#their relationship is both the FUCKIN WORST. and possibly best thing that’s ever happened to the 2 of them

[voltrixz]

Had a YouTube music mix on and a song called “Agony and Ecstasy “ came on and that quite literally just sums up Phobitor.

[lesbian-in-leather]

For the fandom ships ask; Merlin, and Once upon a time?

Oooh thank you!!

Merlin

OTP: This is not going to be the popular choice but honestly,,, Merlin/Morgana. I think they had such a facinating dynamic and I would have loved to see the writers follow through with it, especially in the later series. Doomed from the start and intrinsically linked, everyone telling him it's a bad idea for different reasons, everyone telling her she couldn't possibly be with him........ yeah, that's the good shit

Favourite canon pairing: Arthur and Gwen were SO cute and I'm happy for them (and their third, Merlin)

Worst pairing ever: Gwen/Lancelot, specifically when he got back because obviously. He wasn't him, she was spelled, and worst of all, there was never any resolution. Still haunted by the fact that everyone expect Merlin (including Gwen herself) really thinks she just. Cheated on Arthur. Heartbreaking

Guilty pleasure pairing: Morgana and Gwen <3 They're so cute and also the HEARTBREAK,,, when Morgana comes back and Gwen pretends to still be her friend and,,,,,,,,, THEM. The guilty part comes from the fact that I know a lot of this ship comes form the "get the women out of the way for mlm ship" mentality, but that's obviously not why I like it soooooo

A pairing you want to see more: Honestly both Morgana/Gwen and Merlin/Morgana. I know everyone loves Arthur/Merlin and they ARE fuckin valid and cute, but I really feel more people should multi-ship because Merlin has SUCH good dynamics with other people, and despite people *saying* they ship Morgana/Gwen there is a suspicious lack of content for them

That pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”: Honestly I feel like I haven't spent enough time in the fandom for this?? I can't think of any, but that might just be because, again, I am a shameless multi-shipper and polyam enjoyer

Favourite non-romantic pair: Gwen and Merlin! I know they had a lil fling early on, but they became such a solid platonic duo and also I think it'd be really funny when they just casually mention that one time they kissed. Everyone would be scandalous (Arthur especially. "What do you mean you kissed Merlin before me??")

Once Upon a Time

OTP: Swanqueen!!!!! Obviously. They were in LOVE and I will DIE on this hill

Favourite canon pairing: Okay okay okay I know this is controversial BUT. For the reasons of "I enjoy fucked up people and their fucked up dynamics" ........Rumple/Evil Queen

Worst pairing ever: Robin/Regina. I liked that she was happy and that's about the only good thing I have to say about it like,,, come on. I just. Why

Guilty pleasure pairing: Okay okay hear me out. Captain Hook/Evil Queen. I just feel like, in the enchanted forest,,,,,,,, some shit happened. And I also think it makes their dynamic funnier when they meet again in Storybrook (see the non-romantic pair)

A pairing you want to see more: Ruby/Belle! Ruby was obviously fruity af and I always thought they'd be a cute couple but there is. not much support there lmao

That pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no”: Honestly? Belle/Rumple. She deserved better! Girlie was NOT down with the atrocities and they were wayyyy too much a part of him. Every time he tried to twist himself in knots to be a Good Person (especially when he was the Dark One?? Like, we saw with Emma, it was such a strong compulsion warping their minds, he very much tried to resist it but he also. Literally couldn't. The fuckin saviour couldn't like why are you blaming him) and failed, she'd get so mad and leave and then,,,, the writers would throw them back together again. Like lads. Let them go. Please

Favourite non-romantic pair: Regina/Killian. I think their interactions were SO fucking funny and she hated him so much. The bullying. The nicknames. Him sitting there like a wet cat. His best scenes were when he was alone with her and wish we'd lent into that instead of pushing his ~relationship~ with Emma

Send me a fandom and I'll answer these questions!

[stemmmm]

head in my fucking hands (part 6 finale)

great for battler to acknowledge this girl is beato's (and his! shes calling him father!) daughter but could he not have immediately followed it up with the idea of eventually dragging her around naked on a leash

what i want, i think what i need in order to find any satisfaction in the result of this story, is for baby beato to Never become proper beatrice. she remains a different person forever, on account of She's Not The Same Person and Making Her Into The Same Person Will Be Torturous Abuse. i would be very happy if the original beato with all her memories of battler returns, things spoken by other characters previously have felt like they implied that could happen given enough time. I just NEED her to not overwrite this little baby. i need us to not be creepy to this fucking baby.

TAZ the suffering game is looking.........bad. actually no its looking great because I am Suffering through the servant lovestory plotline (its just boring as shit to me, ive been told this exact story like 4 times now. in sequence)

honestly im stunned jessica has agreed to play because if it were me making the choice: 1. i wouldn't want to get in the way of my cousin's long established relationship 2. i dont want kanon to stay on the island forever, in fact 3. i dont want to stay on the island forever!! 4. why should i believe in any of this magic bs that game out of nowhere, fuck you? 5. i decide things for myself, i just found out my crush likes me back Today, i need more time to explore the relationship. if it doesnt work out it doesn't work out and that's not because of whatever shit you're pulling with "magic" now.

also baby beato being invited to this after battler resolved privately to be nicer to her sets this up to be such a major self fulfilling prophecy. at least his jumping in before she succeeded mmmmaybe defeated that purpose? who knows!

I'll be real, I don't think George eagerly declaring he'll kill his mom for Shannon means anything other than that he REALLY wanted to kill his mom

matching Jessica with kyrie was the best (worst) possible choice bc any uncertainty she could ever have would always be crushed by how mad fucked up kyrie is lmao

speaking of! I'm sure it was mentioned previously but being reminded that her and whatserfaces due dates were the same day has given me fodder for my standing theory that battler is kyries son. it was THE OTHER WOMAN who miscarried, and because Rudolph was already married to her, he went and somehow got the babies switched without kyrie knowing. explains why he and ange look SO perfectly similar (not that it matters that much) and ALSO explains why when Rudolph first brought up having a secret, he said he was gonna be killed. because battler and kyrie both were gonna crazy murder him for having done that.

I'm very happy that battler was immediately able to see Erika's situation for what it is: fuckin shit! I will say tho, don't see how the packing tape is going to help her. that trick has only seemed really helpful to witches in the past ?

ok good to get confirmation that my assumptions were right. the way she's cornered battler is complete bullshit though. just because you can retroactively make door seals doesnt mean you can retroactively do Fucking Anything You Want without telling the GM until they'd be fucked over by it?? thats not how games fucking work??? thats not how anything works? its cheap as hell

BUT. I LOVE the way that it's managed to establish that battler never once killed anyone. i was going on so much before about how i didnt like the beatrice situation that i didn't even have the thought to get a word in on how weird it was for battler to just accept killing his whole family when he couldn't even bring himself to accuse any one of them of murder. to announce he never killed them is sweet <3 my boy is back, he never left!

ALSO the closed room having been alluded to the whole time coming around was magnificent atmosphere. best horror this series has had so far

the shit between the pairs of lovers makes me want all of them to die. its so stupid. its so dumb. why why whyyyyy are we digging so deeply into this, insisting again and again "furniture cant love furniture cant love theyre furniture theyre furniture" when we have spent the entire full rest of the game saying no, theyre just people. its stupid this is stupid its doing nothing its accomplishing nothingggg

beato beato beato beato beatooooooo

i love that her whole plan is that she's irresistible. you cant say no to her. i made such a good puzzle, dont you want to see it? you've heard so much about this pussy from everyone, you dont even want a taste?

the fact that it was the puzzle shit that made her remember everything gives me the impression that because beato died when she was down bad she just impressed the battler love on what remained of her and fucked up completely because she was like ohhh be made just for him and serve him and also be someone who can play with him like one of the guyyysssssss.... and made the most demure, sweet little thing that could never kick battler and call him a bitch. she was so lovesick or whatever that she forgot her core being is making shitty puzzles everyone hates but can't help but get trapped in them and become obsessed. and also the crazy murder. anyways glad to see u back boo. i hope it is you with all your memories bc that'd be real sad and disappointing otherwise

oh no its sad and disappointing

hey wait... wait... wait,,, chotto a minute...... why does beato have to be so god damn simpering and babylike to be a wife or romantic in any way to battler. why does she have to be a different person to be lovable. battler said himself that he doesn't like that. hey. hey. this sucks. this sucks really bad. whys battler got a child bride. hey. why can she only say things that are kind in a baby voice. hey why are we acting like this is actually beatrice. just because she looks the same and loves battler means they should get married about it? so genuine connection means nothing?

i feel like... i didn't learn a damn thing here? i dont feel like i understand beato any better than when it started, tho i guess maybe i understand the reasons for doing magic a little more...? is it because i had love so i could see it... but it kinda makes me feel like this part accomplished nothing, like i could have honestly skipped it. all this part managed to do for me is lose like. all the good faith i had. we've firmly resolved things in a way that i think... is shit.

now accepting petitions to pick up episode 7 because. eugh. these last two parts have been dreadful for me.

part 5 (+?) thread

ep1 ep2 ep3 ep4

erika furudo is bern's fucking self-insert oc................ i knew they had to be the same person because they Look Like That and also. Name. but. oh my god this is funny. she's managed to say a single line btw, this is just spoiler knowledge and inference running

ah! ok so we are doing answer arc-ass answer arcs. cool i'm fine with that! makes things a lot easier to follow especially since more inane bullshit's gonna get thrown in

hate haaaaate seeing beato like this tho :(((( this is miserable, she makes me so sad, and battler saying over and over again "dw boo i'm gonna kill u for sure" also makes me so sad. get well soon queen!!!!!!!!

i may be wrong but i get the impression that this was kind of the same as the evolution of the real life beato's situation/personality.... and in that sense i can't imagine any of this ending well but i want it to so baddd because i love herrrrr she deserves the worllldddddddd

it's nice of them to rewind things for battler's sake but uh. erika's a bit of a fucking cunt huh. no love in this game, indeed. we are bringing out peoples worst and making sure battler has as miserable of a time as possible. it's interesting to see that the epitaph is solved before any murder but know that people still die in the end tho.

also love that we're saying kinzo's dead for real, none of this with natsuhi is happening. open your eyes battler, look. nothing's there. really good moment.

battler's been confronting the epitaph in terms of why it exists rather than solving it, and there's definitely been much spoken of miracles, added onto by lambda saying there'd be no point in the riddle if it wasn't hard which would add ammunition for a miracle to happen, though there's still the insistence that beato has nothing to gain from the riddle existing... at least materially. and she doesn't kill for pleasure. so there's the obvious point that she made the epitaph because she wanted to play with someone, specifically battler since he always lives, and battler himself mentioned the play aspect though I dont know how serious he was about that. beato's very obviously just wanted to play with him from the beginning, even though her kidnapping and torturing of him in the first place pretty heavily obscured that. if we accept play as her reason for it existing and doing the murder games, that still leaves the miracle up in the air. does the chance of a miracle occurring not count as a potential material gain? is doing something purposely to try and create a miracle not... a reason for doing it? is the miracle that beato could Actually be revived in some way or is there something else?

[buckys-black-dress]

i don't care, i'm in love

a/n: alright sexies, part two! of my last thing you guys liked! idk if anyone's noticed just yet but the titles are from tame impala's song 'new person, same old mistakes' because the song is fire asf. anyways. enough talking, here it is! enjoy! (sorry this took so long lol, i had no idea where i was going w this plot after part 1.)

warnings: penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), choking, cursing. this story is 18+ !!! tap off if you're a minor. this is your warning.

wc: 4k words

[bucky barnes x fem!reader]

read part one here!

-

It's been a few days since your outburst with Bucky in the kitchen. While you haven't made eye contact with him whenever you've been in the same room, you've practically felt his looks from across the room.

The air had definitely shifted in any room where you were both present. Nobody still knows about your past relationship, and you don't intend on telling anyone about it.

You've decided to let Bucky stew in silence, not allowing any leeway. If he wanted to be stubborn, this is where it would land him. He chose his own fate in the end, and now he would have to suffer the consequences.

And it was pretty awkward, to say the least. It was currently movie night in the Avengers Tower, and you were all in the movie theater. Tony had selected a rom-com tonight, as superheroes do. You were sat with Natasha on a loveseat, your legs swung over hers as your shared snacks were laid on your lap for the both of you.

She had, of course, noticed your change in demeanor since your impromptu break-up. You hadn't divulged in the details with her, not wanting to out the relationship. Even though you wanted to be petty as ever, you decided you were going to be the mature one in this situation.

And then Bucky walks in.

With a... another girl?

Maybe you weren't taking the high road after all.

You instantly feel a heat wash over your body, making you want to scream and cry and laugh in incredulity all at the same time.

What the fuck?

"Hey guys, I brought a date to movie night, if that's alright..." His voice sounded like nails on a blackboard to you right now. "This is Sophia."

He says it so simply that no one knows what to say. Everyone spares a glance at you, and for a second, you wonder if he had told anyone.

But everyone had somewhat of an idea that Bucky likes you!

So now, everyone was a bit confused.

"Uhm, yeah, nice to meet ya. Take a seat anywhere." Steve's voice cuts the suffocating silence.

You make brief eye contact with Bucky, but you look away as fast as you had looked in the first place. You felt like there was a golf ball lodged in your throat, and if you didn't stop yourself, you think you would've strangled that motherfu-

You're led out of your train of thought by a light tap on your arm. Natasha gives you a look that's saying, you look like you're about to kill someone. Are you okay?

You shake your head, letting her know you're just fine. Everything's fine. Bucky's over there, with another girl, who's holding his hand. And you've been here wondering for the past two months what's been so wrong about you that he couldn't do the same with you. Let alone even tell people you were in a relationship.

And you're not going to lie. This stung. Really bad.

Although you wanted to sit here and act as unbothered as possible, it was hard. You wanted to enjoy your night, watch your movie, and go to bed. This was a turn of events that you weren't expecting in the least.

The tension in the room was too much, everyone exchanging glances back and forth between you, Bucky, and Sophia. They were all confused. There was an obvious tension between you and Bucky, and although it was never anything serious to them, they all thought he would man up soon enough and ask you out.

Now, sympathetic looks were being shot across the room between all the team members, and no one could say really say anything.

Suddenly, Steve sits up in his seat and glares at his friend.

"Buck, can ya help me bring some snacks from the kitchen?" The blond asks, not waiting for a reply from the brunet.

Once they're safely out of earshot from the movie room, Steve grasps Bucky's shoulder in a tight hold that has Bucky wincing.

"What the hell, man?" His voice comes out strained and laced with confusion.

"Buck, I think I should be asking you that question." Steve says. "Don't play fuckin' dumb with me. You know what I wanna talk about."

"Well, please do enlighten me-"

"Oh would ya drop it? Sophia? I'm sure she's a great gal, but for the past six months you've been bitchin' and moanin' about Y/N." Steve cuts his friend off, trying to gauge the situation.

"I just... things went south. I needed somethin' new... somethin' different." Bucky's voice was meek, almost like he was afraid to admit this to his best friend of 90 years.

"What... whaddaya mean things went... south? Did you tell her you liked her and she rejected you or somethin'?" The blond asks, brows pulled together in confusion.

"I just... I can't really explain to you what happened but... it was bad. I fucked up, Stevie." Bucky's head is still tilted downwards in guilt.

"Buck, you know you can tell me anything, right?" A hand is placed on his shoulder, and he wants to shrug it off, I don't deserve any comfort, he thinks. I did this all by myself.

"Can I just... I'll tell you. But you can't tell anyone. Especially Tony or Nat. Or Wanda." Steve gives him a brief nod, motioning for Bucky to go on.

"Y/N and I had been... seeing each other for the past two months..." Bucky starts to explain, and Steve's eyes are jut about popping out of their sockets by the time he finishes explaining.

A few moments pass, and silence soaks the air surrounding them.

"You... you two were dating... in secret? You didn't tell me?" The look Steve gave Bucky made the latter's insides twist in the worst way possible. He should've told his best friend.

"Steve, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. We agreed to keep it between us until... "

"Until she decided she'd had enough."

"Yeah."

A pregnant pause and flat face followed, and flat face followed, and Bucky's now realizing how much he's fucked up. Not in the first place, per se, but by bringing Sophia here.

"So can you tell me why you've dragged that poor girl here?" Steve breaks the silence first.

"I-I... I met her at a bar a couple nights ago. Needed to get out, have a drink. She came up to me and asked me for my number, and... yeah."

What Bucky didn't explain is that as soon as she started talking to him, she had immediately realized he was painfully in love with someone else. She had been kind, understanding of his situation. Instead of trying to get in bed with him, she sat down with him while he explained to her how he got himself in this mess.

"You know... I can help you..." Sophia tells him with innocent eyes.

"Really? How?" Bucky's tone was incredulous, like the mere idea of doing something about this whole thing was possible.

"Well, she seems to care about you a lot. But maybe you just need to get a... reaction out of her. She's unbothered now, she says she 'moved on.' Show her she hasn't." She explains.

"But...how?"

And thus... this situation was born.

"So... Sophia has absolutely no interest in you, and you brought her here to make Y/N jealous?" Steve looks at his friend like he has three heads, and Bucky now realizes just how dumb this all looks.

"Well... yeah. This was a bad idea, wasn't it? I should just go take Sophia home-"

"No! You already got this far, and if you do that it might give Y/N the wrong idea. Just- just go with it for the rest of the night and see what happens." Steve says. "Now, let's get the snacks."

Bucky helps him, and they head back into the movie room. He notices your tense form against Natasha. Sophia's making conversation with Sam, and if you were in a cartoon, you're sure there would be steam coming out of your ears.

The movie goes by in a blur, and even though your eyes were glued to the screen, you feel like you didn't even watch the movie. You were too busy being hyperaware of the way Sophia held onto Bucky's arm like if was her lifeline, and quite frankly, you wanted to punch the living daylights out of the both of them.

Once the movie's finished and the lights turn on, you waste no time in heading to your room after a quick goodnight to everyone.

You're getting ready for bed with slams of closet doors and dresser drawers, absolutely enraged with everything. Why was this bothering you so much? But more importantly, how was Bucky so quick to move on? Like you were nothing to him? Like you were the dirt under his shoe?

And although you were too proud to say it, it stung like a motherfucker.

Before you could get ahead of yourself, a knock is coming from your door.

You're sure it's Natasha trying to make sure you're alright, but after months of acting unaffected, all you wanted to do was get under your covers and cry.

"Nat, I'm sorry but I'm really not in the mood-" But when you swung the door open, it was none other than your ex-boyfriend."What the hell are you doing here?"

Your tone was venomous, and all Bucky could see was the tiredness and rage behind your irises.

"I- Can I talk to you?" His voice is timid, like he's afraid to even ask for your time.

"About what? Don't you have someone to tend to?" You wonder out loud, and you can't help the way your heart twists at the thought of Bucky and Sophia. The way he had no problem holding her, touching her, loving her.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N."

It even hurt to think that.

"What do you want, Barnes?" You query in an indifferent tone.

"I-I waned to talk to you, alone." He responds, and his palms are sliding down his thighs to wipe off the sweat.

"Don't you have to take your date home?"

He was quiet for a moment, trying to gauge how to handle you right now. One wrong word or move, and he was out.

"Y/N, can I please just talk to you? One night we're sleeping in each others' beds, and the next we're strangers? How- how does that even make sense?" He's trying to make sense of the past few weeks and the events that led up to the demise of your relationship.

He knows, but he doesn't want to say it out loud.

"Well, I wonder who's fault that was?" You ask snarkily.

Apparently, you weren't afraid to say it.

"You were the one that did this. I get it. This was new for you, but at some point, enough was enough! I- I was basically dirt under your shoe, James! I- I couldn't fucking take it anymore! I just- you were so easy with Steve and Natasha. And then you would shake me off like I was some pest, some bug." You choked on your words, tears pricking behind your eyes. You turned away before Bucky could see them, not wanting to let him see you like this.

You've put on a tough front, because you didn't want anyone to think that you'd get so hung up over some boy, but it was hard to do so when you were giving your all into a relationship while you got the bare minimum back.

Bucky watches you from your doorway, and as you turn away, he takes this as a sign to come in and shut the door behind him.

"Y/N, please, let me talk. I-I just need to talk. To get it all out. I'm begging you, please." And beg he did. He was on the floor, quite literally on his knees. You couldn't even comprehend how not even an hour ago, he brought a new girl in.

And now he was on his knees before you. Begging.

"Get up."

Your voice cracked, but it was still strong. You weren't in the mood to have a man beg at your feet, and you felt it was quite pathetic that he was on his knees right now when he's the reason you two had ended up like this.

Whatever this was.

"O-Okay. Does that mean I can talk?" He asks tentatively, rising to his feet slowly.

"You have five minutes."

He was quiet at first, and you wondered if he even had anything to say. If he was just here to waste your time, to cause even more heartache-

"I- Can I just start off by saying, in the almost three months we were together, I never, ever, wanted to make you feel anything less than what you really are. You're kind, caring, beautiful, the smartest person I've ever met. But above all those things, you were patient with me. And that was never something I had before with someone else. No one was as patient and as attentive as you were, and I need you to know." He pauses, catching his breath from his rambling.

"Know what?" Your tone was venomous, trying to hold back the tears prickling behind your eyes.

"That I have dreamt of a girl like you for decades. You are everything-" he chokes on his words, eyes glossing over, "everything I've ever wanted, and more. And I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you. How I made you feel, and how I felt the need to hide us. I should've just been honest with everyone from the start, and it cost me everything in the end. So I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you, in any way possible. Because you deserve it. You deserve so much better than someone who- who doesn't know how to love. How to hold your hand and not want to cry because he feels like he doesn't deserve it. You deserve the entire universe, Y/N."

Bucky finishes speaking, looking so deeply into your eyes that you can't help but let the facade crack.

Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You sniffle, trying to take a deep breath.

"Wh-what about... Sophia?" You struggle to ask through your emotions, trying to hold yourself back from flinging yourself into his arms.

"I- She's... not relevant. I met her at a bar the day we... ended things, and she said 'it was clear I was going through a heartbreak,' and that she wanted to help me get you back." Bucky laughs a bit at the whole situation now, and how fucking badly he had fucked up.

"But if you don't want to get back together, I understand. Just know, I still feel the same. But if you give me another chance, I promise you it'll be different. I promise to spend all my time making it up to you, and I don't want to hide anything about us. To anyone." He affirms, moving to hold your hands in his.

And surprisingly, you didn't pull away.

No matter how much your brain was screaming, yelling to pull away!

But you couldn't. You wanted to believe every word that came out of his mouth, and you didn't care if anyone thought you were being naive or stupid. You just wanted to hold him again, to call him James again, and to have him whisper sweet nothings in your ears.

And as all these thoughts were running through your head, you see Bucky slowly backing away, assuming your silence meant you were telling him to leave.

"I-Wait. Wait. We have a- a lot to talk about, but I'm not giving up on us yet. But I want a full explanation, top to bottom about everything. And- you have to promise me things will be different between us. We can't have things like they were before, and-"

And before you could continue your rambles, you were stopped by the feeling of his lips on yours.

You could feel his rough ones moulding against your soft, cherry-flavoured ones from your lip balm. His eyes were closed, and so were yours. Any thoughts you had were thrown out the window, and all you could focus on right now was him.

He was invading all your senses in the best way possible. In this moment, you realized he was being completely honest and truthful in what he'd said earlier. Of course, you wouldn't let him forget about all this so easily, but right now, all that mattered were his hands running all over your waist and neck.

"J-James," you breathed out, disconnecting from him.

His eyes search yours, wondering if this is where you give him the boot, and tell him to leave it at this.

But oh, was he wrong.

"Lock the door for me?"

His mouth is akin to that of a fish out of water, wondering to himself if his brain was conjuring this image in his head after weeks of not having you.

"A-Are you sure? If you don't want to we don't have to-" And now he's the one getting cut off with your lips.

It had been enough suffering for the both of you these past few weeks.

"James, I'm sure. Help a girl out?" You smile coyly, slowly walking backwards until you reach your bed and sit down. Your eyes stay on James' blue ones while he rushes to lock to door.

He's hovering over you, waiting to see if you'll make a move.

"Well, aren't you gonna fuck me?"

At those words, the man above you snaps out of his stupor, and lets out an animalistic growl, lunging at you and making both your bodies fall back onto the fluffy white duvet of your bed.

"Can I take this off of you?" James hands are pinching at the fabric of your t-shirt, and you fervently nod in response.

"Words, honey." He coaxes and receives a meek but clear 'yes' from you.

He wastes no time slipping it off your form, only breaking apart from you for air to do so.

Soon enough, your panting forms were both almost bare, left down to just underwear. James slowly moves to settle himself between your thighs, but your hand catches onto his wrist before he could move any further.

"You don't have to, James. I want you inside me already." Although you usually never complained about getting head, you were aching to feel him inside you.

"C'mon angel, I've missed how your sweet lil' pussy tastes." The words coming out of his mouth combined with the feeling of the small pecks he's placing against your inner thighs have you practically shaking.

Along with his scruff giving the sensitive skin a delicious burn, you couldn't bring yourself to say no to James.

He guides your soaked panties down your legs, placing your calves against his shoulders to hold them open.

"Mmm, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to have my mouth between these legs again, sugar. Missed ya so much." He mumbles to you, licking a broad stripe up your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth, and you scramble to find something to grab onto.

With one hand in his brunet locks, Bucky continues his ministrations. He alternates between using his tongue and sucking on your sensitive button, building up your climax.

James listens to your small gasps and whimpers, paying attention to what brought you the most pleasure.

"Oh!" You let out a whimper at the feeling of Bucky's fingers hitting your sweet spot inside you.

Before you knew it, the throbbing in your heat was spreading all through your body, causing your first earth-shattering orgasm of the night.

You're chanting James over and over again, like a prayer.

"That's it, sweetheart, give it all t'me." He coaxes you through your high, allowing for you to come down.

Your eyes are bleary and you barely sense James coming back up over you. His fingers are opening your mouth, allowing you to taste them.

"Taste yourself, honey. So sweet, missed havin' you." He leaves pecks on your forehead, nose, and cheek, before circling back to your mouth when he pulls his fingers back out.

When he pulls away again, his nose is brushing against yours. You still feel like you're floating, but you open your eyes slowly to be met with his bright cerulean ones.

"You have a condom?" James' voice is gravelly as he speaks against your lips.

"No, I'm clean and still on the pill. Wanna feel all of you." You whisper while your fingers roam through his locks.

"A-Are you sure?" He asks, trying to ignore the involuntary twitch of his cock at your words.

"I'm sure, James. I've never been more sure of doing anything with anyone." You say, letting your hand move down to his boxers.

Your hand dips into the waistband, grasping him with your palm.

"Wanna feel all of this." You barely speak, but he understands every word you say.

Before you know it, his underwear is off and thrown somewhere across the room.

James sits back, running his cock through your juices for lubrication, eliciting a sigh from the both of you.

"Fuck, I missed you so much, doll." He grits out while he pushes into you slowly. "Can't believe I was so stupid and almost lost ya for good."

"I-I'm right here, baby. You won't ever lose me." You reassure him, letting him fill you to the brim.

"God, can't get enough of this tight pussy, baby." James is thrusting at an even pace now, and you can feel every inch of him inside you.

You release moans of ecstacy and pleasure in his ear as he stays above you, and while you're only half-conscious of what you're doing, you grab his metal arm and bring it to your throat.

His eyes shoot open but his pace never falters, looking at you for silent reassurance.

The white-hot feeling in your core builds at the feeling, not wanting it to stop.

"You sure?"

"Yes, please." All he needed was your whimper to moan at the sight of his hand around your throat.

"H-Holy shit. I- Come with me baby, c'mon." His voice is strained, like it's paining him to speak.

"I'm- I'm coming James. Come with me, baby." You gasp out, feeling the stirring in your belly reach its' peak.

Soon enough, you're both coming undone, breathing into each others' mouths while working through your highs together.

You feel him spurting inside you, painting your walls white. His rocking slowly comes to a stop, allowing him to open his eyes and focus on you. Your thumbs are brushing over his cheekbones, soaking in him just being here, with you.

"C'mon, let me get you cleaned up, angel." James slowly pulls out of you, being careful to not hurt you.

You see the light flicker on in your bathroom and hear the sink running. He returns with a rag and brushes it gently between your legs, feeling you shiver at how sensitive you are.

"Sorry, honey." James' whisper comes from below, and you smile down with soft eyes.

You were completely besotted for this man.

Once the rag is thrown into your laundry hamper, Bucky retrieves his boxers and pulls them on.

For a moment, you feel a flash through your body, your heart seizing at the thought of him leaving now.

"A-Are you leaving?" You barely recognize your own voice, feeling pathetic for feeling so vulnerable.

Bucky just looks at you. He's dumbfounded at you right now. How could you think that after everything, especially after what had just happened, that he would leave you. How he could ever let you go again.

And again, the question is just another painful reminder of how much he's hurt you.

"No, sweetheart. Just wanted to grab a shirt for you to sleep in." He gives you a soft smile, quenching the ache of your heart.

Once he sits you up and slips the large shirt over your frame, he slips back into his spot next to you under the duvet. Your legs immediately tangle with his, head on his shoulder and arm thrown across his torso.

"Never gonna let you go again, honey." He tells you, placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Love you, James." You mumble in a half-asleep response into his chest, the words reverberating into his skin.

Bucky hopes you don't feel his heart racing, but replies with the same words that you hear before slipping into a deep slumber. And the last thing you hear before you slip under are the sweetest words to ever be spoken.

"I love you more, Y/N."

[zodiakuroo]

Cupid’s Bullet

Dabi comes home with a very special Valentine’s Day surprise for you.

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Contains: dubcon/noncon, mentions of death, unhealthy relationship, gun play, fear play, forced orgasms, squirting, mindbreak, angst (if you squint?), quirk usage, one slap but it’s a hard one :3, overstimulation, creampie

Word count: 5.3k

Notes: pls this title is so cringe but it's like bullet instead of arrow cause... ya know but anyways happy valentine’s day from scumbag boyfie!dabi

Dating a villain meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some scorched heroes. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss’ bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you’d prefer not to know about. And while you weren’t necessarily okay with a lot of what Dabi did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn’t scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Dabi could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn’t care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he’s found something to tether him to this existence.

Ok so maybe he didn’t use those words exactly, but he doesn’t have to. You know that’s what he means when he spoils you with expensive, stolen clothes and jewellery, when he offers to burn alive any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any “normal couple” experiences.  That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine’s Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Dabi had been gone for close to a month now and you didn’t expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don’t jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of burnt flesh, ash and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Dabi’s scent and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

“Welcome home.” You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn’t matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his dark hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. “Sit up doll. Got a surprise for ya.”

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he’s really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Dabi expectantly. Your boyfriend is smiling wide, skin pulled so taut you think one of his staples might give out. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It’s so cliché you can’t help but let out a small snort. “What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You know… for Valentine’s Day?” He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn’t your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn’t want him to be.

“Well now I feel awful. I didn’t get you anything.” You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

“’S like a toy… so it’s technically for you but kinda for both of us.” It’s unusual to see Dabi this excited. The way he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

“Like a sex toy?” A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

“Are we playing fuckin’ 20 questions? Just open it.” He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don’t comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn’t falter. You’ve never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It’s definitely the real deal.

“Dabi, this isn’t a toy.” You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says “Doll, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?”

“O-okay? What do you want to do with it?” You ask, placing offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

“Ever heard of Russian Roulette?” Dabi, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Dabi is quick to pull you back.

“It’s real easy doll. No need to look so scared.” He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. “6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens.”

The look on his face is positively demented. Azure eyes wide and bright, patchwork face contorted into a a sinister smile, white teeth and silver staples gleaming in the dim light.

“Baby,” you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. “I don’t know about thi-“

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you’re unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

“You see now doll?” He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. “You’ve gone and wasted a shot.”

Dabi climbs off of you and you’re left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

“You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?” Dabi prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes being to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Dabi has in store for you.

“Good. Now strip.” He command and like a good girl, you obey.

Your arms feel like they’re made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Dabi’s old ones). You can’t stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can’t be happening. It’s Dabi. He wouldn’t hurt you. He promised you that.

“Oh cut the fuckin’ waterworks.” He snaps. “As long as you listen, you’ll be fine.”

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he’s leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. “Fair warning, I’m more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy. But you know that already.” He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it’s like you can’t get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of gun in your boyfriend’s hand, you still you bring your own hand between your legs, but you can’t concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Dabi’s standards.

He only scoffs before-

CLICK

You scream again, body nearly flying off the bed before you curl yourself up into a ball. The fright is enough to stop your heart. For a second you believe it has.

“Doll,” Dabi’s gruff voice brings you back to earth, reminding you that you’re very much alive and whether or not you stay that way is entirely up to him. “You’re ruining my surprise. Got it ‘specially for you and now you’re being a brat.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.

“So-sorry.-“ your voice breaks. “I’ll be good.”

You’re still struggling to comprehend how any of this is real. You thought you knew him. You thought he loved you. And here he is, treating your life like it’s a game. You can’t help but think that this is your own fault. You thought you were above everyone else, the exception to your boyfriend’s villain behaviour.

“Yeah?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Then show me.” He challenges you. Dabi slips off his t-shirt and moves between your legs to get a better view, pressing on your knees to split them apart.

Self-preservation kicks in. There is one way out of this alive and that’s doing what he says. You spread yourself even wider, showing him all of you. Your hands, glide over your smooth thighs, kneading the pudgy flesh as you get closer and closer your sex, teasing yourself the way he would.  Your fingers find your clit and just a little pressure makes your eyes melt shut. Probably for best anyway. It makes it easier to imagine anything but this. You drag those fingers through your delicate folds, letting out breathy sighs as heat begins to bloom between your thighs.

You pretend, its Dabi’s touch. In your mind’s eye you see the two of you, limbs tangled with Dabi on top, resting his forehead against yours. It’s one of those nights where he wants to go slow. So slow that the sensation of his cock dragging in and out of is you bordering on torturous. It’s one of those nights where he wants to lay his head on your chest, mouthing at your breasts, laving your nipples with his wet tongue while you tell him, in that sensual voice  that you love him, that he’s perfect, that he’s yours.  Because it’s one of those nights, where everything feels like too much for him and the only person that he really has on his side is you.

It’s not long before you’re leaking. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, there’s a voice chastising you for being so easy for him… even now. There’s almost no resistance as two of your fingers, press into your entrance. Your fingers are no match for Dabi’s, they never hit all those deep, hidden spots  that make you see stars but still, you start to move them slowly, brushing your thumb over your clit every so often.

“Look at me.” You feel his breath waft over your pussy.

Eyelids fluttering open and you meet his gaze. It stuns you a little and your hands come to a standstill. He is handsome, breathtakingly so, even though he thinks you’re lying whenever you when you tell him that. The way he stares at you, with love and adoration in his eyes, it’s almost like the fantasy you were just imagining. Almost like the fantasy you’ve been living in this whole time. It’s enough to make you forget the situation you’re in. Then the muzzle of the gun is pressed to your clit, snapping you back to reality fast enough to give you whiplash.

“Fucking slut.” He growls and smacks your hand away from your pussy.

You jerk as he starts to move it the gun circles over your sensitive nub and then dipping down to your tight slit to gather up your juices.

“All those fuckin’ tears but look how wet you are.” He says more to himself than you as he admires the way your slick leaves a sheen on the barrel. With his eyes trained directly on yours, his perfectly pink tongue pokes out to lick it clean, groaning at the taste.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapped around your legs, guiding them over his broad shoulders. He kisses you on your mons before his tongue begins greedily lapping at your hole. “Tastes so good doll.” He mutters with his nose pressed against your clit. He slips the wet muscle inside of you making you whine.  You reflexively grab onto his black hair, tugging on the stands and he lets out a groan of approval. He moves up to your clit, circling it with his tongue before suckling on it. While he brushes just the tip of a finger over your cunt, making it clench around nothing while you desperately buck your hips, in an attempt to have it inside you.

The way he’s eating you out is almost romantic?

Or it would be, if it weren’t for the metal digging into your flesh.

“Doll,” He places a sloppy kiss on your clit, lighting dragging his teeth over the hood. “Want you to squirt for me.”

A lump forms in your throat. You can count on one hand the amount of times that has happened. You’re not sure of the odds that you’d be able to right now and it’s not a gamble you’re willing to take. “Dabi, I don’t think I can….”

CLICK

You thrash, screaming so loud it makes your throat burn.

Dabi still holds you open, keeping you in place. “I wasn’t asking.” He makes sure to maintain eye contact as he drops a fat glob of spit right on to your clit before diving face first into your cunt once again.

He pushes 2 of his long, lithe fingers into your tight entrance. It’s unexpected and you wince. He drags his right hand (the one holding the gun) up your torso, resting the muzzle underneath your breast, right over your racing heart. A reminder of what’s at stake. He envelopes your sensitive clit with his lips, moving his fingers in tandem with the suction. You’re consumed by desire as Dabi brings you so close to the edge.

“Dee-Deeper please.” Your pant out.

He smiles against your mound before complying with your request. “Right here?” His fingers press against that squishy patch deep inside you and your eyes roll back.

“Nnnggg yeah.” You’re barely able to mewl out. You dig your heels into his back and grind against his face, chasing your high. Dabi keeps hitting that spot with astonishing precision but you hold off for as long as you can, letting the pleasurable sensation build until the pressure in your core becomes unbearable. When it finally snaps because you can’t hold it anymore, your eyes squeeze shut, hands flying to his biceps and you dig your nails into the sinewy muscle. You gush around his fingers and all over his face. Dabi doesn’t move though, flicking your clit with his tongue repeatedly until you’re trembling and whimpering, pushing him away from your pussy. He finally relents, a pop echoing around the room as he lets go of you.

He gives you a predatory look, scared face and chest wet with the remnants of your orgasm. “You made such a mess baby but I’m glad you’re finally having fun.” He’s just as out of breath as you are but far more composed.

Your head is still fuzzy and limbs are still twitching but your boyfriend doesn’t let you recover. “C’mon, doll. My turn.” He begins to undo his belt, silver buckle clinking as he rushes to drag it through the loops of his jeans

You pull yourself on to all fours, now eye level with his crotch. He pulls down his pants and boxers in one go, his erection almost hitting you in the face.

“You’ve been lucky so far.” He taps the bulbous head of his cock on your lips, smearing your lips with the pre that dribbles out of it. “But I wouldn’t test it if I were you. Open.”

Your mouth is already watering at the sight of him. So long, thick and veiny. It’s disgusting actually, this Pavlovian response. He fucks you deeper, stretches you wider and makes you feel better than anyone ever had. You wonder briefly, if anyone ever could fuck you as good as Dabi.

You stick out your tongue and he slides himself between your lips, groaning as he pushes into your mouth, slowly, inch by inch. He fills your mouth completely and you shut your eyes, savouring the salty taste of him but you feel the muzzle press against your temple and making them shoot open. “Atta girl. Lemme see those pretty eyes.” He grunts as he plunges into your throat. You bob your head up and down his shaft, the hand at the back of your head setting a brutal pace. The room is filled with the sounds of you gagging and his hefty sac smacking against your chin.

“So good to me baby.” He tilts his head back, losing himself in the pleasure. The wet heat of your mouth surrounding him while your saliva leaks out, dripping down his balls. Dabi is big and heavy, stretching you so wide and making you jaw ache from the weight of him. You’re already lightheaded from the lack of air, no matter how much you try breathing through your nose. You don’t dare to complain though.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly, stretching a string of saliva from the head of his dick to your tongue that’s hanging out of your mouth. You pant like a bitch attempting to catch your breath. He doesn’t give you much time before he’s in your throat again, back to fucking your face.

“I love you so much. You love me?” He sounds so sweet, totally blissed out.

He stops thrusting and tilts your head up to look at him, blinking tear-clumped lashes. You try utter a ‘Yes, I love you.’ but with his shaft gagging you, it comes out all garbled. The muscles in your throat convulse around the deep intrusion. “You’d do anything for me right?” He asks, jabbing the muzzle even harder into your temple, finger resting lightly on the trigger. You nod, watching Dabi lose his composure bit by bit. “Yeah. That’s why you’re my girl.” He pushes himself even deeper inside you, making you finally take all of him, until your nose meets his pubic hair and holding you there. “Fuck.”

CLICK

“Hmmhhhhngggh” You squeal around him but you can’t pull off because of the grip he has on your scalp. When he lets you go you’re choking and coughing up a lewd mixture of spit and pre-cum.

“Wh- Why” You blubber, voice hoarse. You don’t understand. You were doing exactly what he asked. You were being good.

“Sorry baby. Felt so good, my finger slipped.” He doesn’t even try to hide his mischievous smirk. The fucker is definitely not sorry.

You want to beg him to stop this ridiculous game because you see now there’s no way you can win because Dabi doesn’t play fair.

He doesn’t give you the chance though, already shuffling off his bottoms all the way and propping himself up against the headboard. “C’mon pretty baby.” He tugs on your ankle.  Wanna see you bounce on my dick.”

You clumsily position yourself atop his lap quickly, before you can even think about it. You know he doesn’t need a reason to pull that trigger but still, you don’t want to give him one.

He grinds his tip along your heat, piercings dragging across your clit over and over again. It’s something he does whenever you have sex, to rile you up. And just like all those other times, it’s working. Circumstances be damned. “Needa feel this hot little pussy. Give it to me doll.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You nod as you lift yourself off of him to hover your dripping wet hole over his hard dick. You slowly squat down on onto him, the fat head stretching you out, burning with every inch you take. You mewl, making futile attempts to blink away tears. You get halfway before you have to stop, resting your hands on his shoulders trying to gain leverage. You’re outright crying now, wet droplets landing on Dabi’s chest.

“’S matter doll.”

I’m terrified. You yell in your head but stay silent, choosing to focus on relaxing your ever-tightening hole in order to take more of him.

“Oh, I know.” He coos, voice dripping with condescension. “’S too big for your tiny cunny.” He leans forward to kiss away the salty tears. “But you can take it. I know you can.” He cups your jaw, stroking your cheek with a calloused thumb. “You can do it for me”

You start to move slowly up and down, using gravity to force more of his monstrous cock inside you with shallow movements. You really are trying your best but that’s apparently not good enough for Dabi and he lets you know that by pressing the barrel of the gun into your stomach. You freeze, horrified, more tears start falling from your eyes. You open your mouth to beg him to just give you a little time. You’re trying.

“Quit being a baby and just take it.” He says before you even get the chance.

“I’m trying Dabi, please just-“

CLICK

He cuts off your plea.  He’s not interested in your excuses.

The rotation of the cylinder sends vibrations through your abdomen. Amidst the shock, you release your grip on his shoulders and impale yourself on his shaft by mistake. The combination of the searing stretch and the blunt head of his cock kissing your cervix is so overwhelming that you collapse forward, head falling on to your boyfriend’s chest. You feel the rumbles of his chuckles while he’s quite literally splitting you open.

“See? Knew you could. Just needed a little scare. Isn’t that right.” He rubs your back as if to comfort you. He lets out a low whistle. “But looks like you’re all out of chances doll. Now bounce.” He gives you a spank with an inhumanly warm hand, making you squeal and leaving your cheek tender.  

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders again. Dabi’s sapphire eyes are practically glowing, daring you to be stupid enough to defy him one more time.

You pull off almost entirely, keeping just his tip inside of you, before spearing his shaft into you again.

“Good girl.” When he praises you with that raspy voice makes you keen and desperate for more of it.

His hand snakes its way up your torso to cup one of your breasts. Your back arches, pushing into his scorching hot touch, forgetting momentarily about his other hand and what he’s holding in it.  He gropes your chest, tweaks and twists at your nipples, leaving red, inflamed hand prints in his wake. You’re practically delirious with pleasure, babbling out incoherent streams of his name along with “yes” and “more”.  All the while, he murmurs praises about how good you are and how much he loves you. It’s confusing and you can’t process any of it.

“Who owns this perfect pussy?”

“Dabi. Fuck. Dabi.” Your tongue lolls out of your mouth in the most obscene way, drooling down your chin. Your plush walls pulse around him as he hits that sensitive spot every time you sink down on him.

“That’s right it’s all fuckin mine. My pretty baby.” Dabi’s eyes are focus on where your two bodies are connected watching the translucent ring of your cream appear and disappear as you ride him.

“Preeeettyyy.” You slur and he laughs at how fucked out you are, brain completely jumbled between the fear, the pain and the bliss all combined into ecstasy.

“Doll.” He groans. “I feel ya squeezin’ me. You gonna cum?”

He’s right. You nod as you feel that coil tightening again, threatening to snap at any second. The man finally starts putting in work, pounding into you every time you pull off of him. Dabi abandons the gun in favour of playing with your clit, rubbing quick sloppy circles. “Yeah? Gonna cream and gush around me? Want you to baby.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking, biting and licking while he assaults your sopping wet pussy. “C’mon doll, please.”

With that you orgasm. He grabs your hips pulling you flush against his thighs, fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips up into you until your high finally subsides.

He doesn’t let you catch your breath before he’s got the revolver pressed hard underneath your chin. “Now make me cum.” You almost collapse but the harsh grip he has on your hair suspends you upright.

Your mind is so foggy and Dabi gives you a small smile, appreciating the perplexed look in your droopy eyes. But he’s not done with you yet.

“Hey.” You’re ripped from your daze, when he slaps you across the face, sending your head swinging to the side. “Don’t pass out on me now.”  

“So-sorry! ‘M sorry!” You grovel as you slam your tired body down on his dick once again, trying to ignore the throbbing on your cheek, the ringing in your ears, and the ache in your battered cunt.  You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm but you don’t have a choice and you don’t dare deny him anything. Your thighs are quaking and burning with every movement but your boyfriend is unimpressed.

“You can do better than that doll.” He lets out a bitter laugh, enjoying every second of tormenting you. “It’s like you want your brains splattered on the ceiling.”

You start crying again, shaking your head frantically. In the time that you’ve been with Dabi, you’ve learned certain tricks, you know he likes it, but in this panic/lust induced frenzy, you can’t remember any of them. Instead, you bounce, mindlessly on him while your gummy walls clench tighter around him every time he nudges at your a-spot. Your legs are going numb from all the effort and you plop down, limp onto his lap, taking him to the hilt.

Dabi tsks at you, reminding you that you can’t rest just yet. You swivel your hips, grinding your pelvis against his while he’s buried deep in your wet heat. You pray to whatever deity is listening that he’s getting close, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“If I don’t bust in the next 5 seconds.” His hand finds your clit again, you grind across his fingers has you rock against him. “Bang!” He emphasises the word by bringing a heated palm down on your ass.

A choked sob bubbles at the back of your throat, making him snicker

Hands pressed to his chest, you ride him like a woman possessed, the last bits of adrenaline kicking in. Your sloppy cunt squelches every time you drive yourself down on his cock just motivating you to fuck him harder.

“Five.” He grits out.

“Dabi, please!” But you’re met with icy, apathetic eyes staring back at you, feeling the terror that the rest of the city does when they so much as hear his name.

“Four.” He rubs your already raw clit, faster and you can feel another orgasm building, much quicker than your last two.

Your body feels so heavy but you can’t stop moving, not unless you want him to- “Please cum!” You beg. “Need your cum.”

“Three.”

He starts to fuck up into you again with unforgiving force.

“Wh-Why?!” is all you can manage as your mind starts to fog up again, the need to come becoming all the more urgent.

“Two.” He ignores your question, transfixed on your tits bounce in his face. You’re getting close to your third orgasm of the night and it seems Dabi is determined to get you there.

You still can’t believe this is real. You never thought that Dabi would treat you like this. You were supposed to be special.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Moreover, you can’t believe how your own body is betraying you. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum. Again.

“One.”

You cry out his name one last time, unsure if it’s out of fear or pleasure. You dig your nails into his arms again, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself as you cum around him. The orgasm that rips through you makes it difficult for you to be sure of anything.

What you are sure of is the fact that there was no bang or bullet.

Just one last CLICK (practically drowned out by your screaming) and the sensation of Dabi’s hot cum flooding your womb. He has a bruising grip on your hips, gun now discarded, and he ruts up into to making sure to stuff your cunt absolutely full of him. He begins to laugh as he softens inside you.

Your head is still spinning but once you’re able to push yourself off of him, you can finally make sense of what just happened.

He was fucking with you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You yell, using weak and quivering arms to throw pillows at him while you cry so hard it makes you dry heave.

Your asshole of a boyfriend starts cackling, clutching his abdomen as if he just pulled the world’s funniest prank while your heart is beating so hard and fast you think it might break through your ribcage.

“You should have seen your face. You were so fuckin’ scared.”

You become nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat as you come to a sickening realisation.

This is not your Dabi. This is the Dabi that the rest of the world gets to see.

Evil, sadistic, merciless. This is the real Dabi.

You attempt to scramble off of the bed to get away from him, feeling overwhelmed by the humiliation. But Dabi grabs your wrist and yanks you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms. A gesture you used to treasure but now it just made your skin crawl. “C’mon Doll you didn’t think I was being serious did you?”

You writhe in his hold, hitting against his hard, toned chest with pathetic fists. “Don’t be such a crybaby. It was just a joke.” He strokes your hair oh so tenderly. But you won’t fall for that again. Dabi is a villain through and through. You know that now.  

It’s no use fighting him off though, all the fight in you is used up. You don’t know what else to do. So you do the easy thing: nuzzle your head into his chest, tremors rocking your body as you hiccup, while he holds you. That way you can pretend that you feel safe with him, just like you used to.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, doll. I love you.”

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

rating all the leading soprano (or in a couple cases, mezzo)/tenor duos in verdi’s 26 operas:

leonora/riccardo (oberto, conte di san bonifacio): riccardo is a dick and i’m so glad leonora and cuniza teamed up to shame him 0/10

giulietta/edoardo (un giorno di regno): they’re adorable as frick and they’re utter dumbasses. also giulietta definitely is wearing the pants in the relationship. 9/10

fenena/ismaele (nabucco): adorable. both gentle badasses. ismaele did make one Bad Decision but did save fenena in the process so yeah 9.5/10

giselda/oronte (i lombardi alla prima crociata): did nothing wrong ever except exist in a world where people are Racist TM. deserved so much better 10/10

elvira/ernani (ernani): dumbasses. hearts of gold. ernani needs to get his head out of his ass. 8/10

lucrezia/jacopo (i due foscari): THESE TWO ARE PERFECT AND DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER 10/10

giovanna/carlo (giovanna d’arco): why is this even a thing 0/10

alzira/zamoro (alzira): not a lot of strong opinions, zamoro falls into the trap of I Think Without Evidence My Girlfriend Is Cheating On Me but ends up murdering the colonialist bastard trying to force her into an arranged marriage, so that makes up for it. 6/10

odabella/foresto (attila): ODABELLA YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM 0/10

macduff and the lady barely interact so no rating lmaooooooooo

amalia/carlo (i masnadieri): he litchrally murders her because…reasons??? 0/10

medora/corrado (il corsaro): most vanilla couple in all verdi 3/10

gulnara/corrado (il corsaro): this is more interesting than the other couple but it never actually happens 6.5/10???

lida/arrigo (la battaglia di legnano): i like the backstory i developed around this ship WAY more than the ship itself (and also they would probably have been better off in an OT3 with rolando). 1/10

luisa/rodolfo (luisa miller): starts off as the most adorable thing ever but RAPIDLY goes south in the WORST way possible 0/10

lina/stiffelio (stiffelio): “but she cheated on him” your honor i fuckin love these messed-up people just trying their best with a lot of awful shit and i fully believe everything works out for them in the end BECAUSE THEY LOVE EACH OTHER 9.5/10

gilda/the duke (rigoletto): NOPE NOPE NOPE DO I EVEN HAVE TO EXPLAIN THIS -100000000/10

leonora/manrico (il trovatore): this ship is TRYING to be elvira/ernani but it isn’t sorry 3/10

violetta/alfredo (la traviata): i hate alfredo and what he did to violetta but i love violetta so much and i understand why she feels the way she does about him so 4/10

elena/arrigo (i vespri siciliani): look everyone loves a Murder Soprano Who Wants Love and her sweet tenor baby except when they have massive communication issues 8.5/10

maria-amelia/gabriele (simon boccanegra): the only reason i’m not giving this a 0/10 is because gabriele genuinely loves her and realizes He Fucked Up though i still don’t really like them 2/10

amelia/gustavo (un ballo in maschera): i have lots of feelings about them 8.5/10

amelia/gustavo/renato (un ballo in maschera): YES THIS OT3 IS ELITE 10/10

leonora/alvaro (la forza del destino): doesn’t have enough stage time to make a big call but they seem like they would’ve been a great couple if only leonora’s family wasn’t racist and alvaro wasn’t the plaything of fate…8/10

élisabeth/carlos (don carlos): incredibly cute in act i, obviously weird after that, but i love them both and i find their relationship extremely interesting 9/10 overall, 0/10 as an actual couple post act i

aida/radames (aida): the second most vanilla couple in verdi although i admire them both for just trying their best even though they’re both horrible at it 5/10

desdemona/otello (otello): basically the same for the same reasons as luisa/rodolfo 0/10

nannetta/fenton (falstaff): the most adorable young couple ever 10/10

[writersmorgue]

Nightmare Material

15+ for graphic descriptions of violence, blood, and gore

can be read as slash or platonic

not proofread

-

“SHUT UP DEKU! OH MY GOD, CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?!”

The common room goes silent.

“Woah, Bakubro, he just asked if you were busy,” Kirishima chuckles nervously.

Katsuki looks over to Deku who, as expected, already has tears welling in his eyes.

“Shitty crybaby, of course I’m busy can’t you fuckin’ see? Go bother someone who cares.”

Deku sniffles like the pathetic little child that he is, and nods, “Ok Kacchan.”

“Fuckin’ annoying ass-” Katsuki mutters, ignoring the glares as he stomps out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time before slamming the door shut behind him, imagining the flinches of his classmates as he does so.

Fuck that fucking nerd, always looking down at him. Asking him for help on math of all things, when he fuckin’ knows that’s Katsuki’s worst subject. Fuck him.

The little shit shouldn’t even be here, he’s not on Katsuki’s level. Just gonna get himself killed.

After a few minutes of grumbling into his pillow, there’s a knock at Katsuki’s door, followed by a meek, “Blasty?”

He groans dramatically and flops over onto his back, propelling himself up with a few controlled explosions.

“Fuckin’ what-” He swings the door open and comes face to face with the entire idiot squad.

Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari all stand in front of him, Sero nervously wringing his hands, Kaminari avoiding eye contact, and Kirishima giving him a look.

Mina steps to the front of them, patting Kirishima’s shoulder as she does so.

“Blasty, you really gotta stop.” She stares him straight in the eyes, not backing down no matter how hard he glares.

“Stop fuckin’ what.”

Kirishima places a hand on Mina’s chest, stalling her step forward into Katsuki’s space. “You know what, Bakugo.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Oh please, like the little shit can’t handle some yelling. I’ve seen discount hot topic make his ears bleed-”

“This isn’t about Jirou. This is about you. You need to sort your shit out.” Sero’s frowning, a rare sight.

“Oh?” Katsuki quirks an eyebrow, “Or what?”

There’s a tense silence before Kaminari sniffs. “Or- or we won’t be your friends anymore!!” He stutters, bottom lip wobbling.

The rest of the group nods, one by one giving him a last glance.

Katsuki stands there for a few minutes, mainly thinking, but also fuming

How dare they treat him like that, like trash. He’s not trash, and he’s not the bad guy. He’s just trying to save Deku before it’s too late. Stupid idiot won’t last a day in the hero business, even with his new freak quirk. All it’s good for is hurting the nerd.

“Stupid Deku and his stupid protection squad, fuckin’ blind idiots.” He grumbles, slamming the door and returning to his lair.

He changes his clothes, resigning himself to finishing his weekend at the gym instead of on next week’s homework.

Bakugo stomps through the common room on the way to their practice room, a few of his classmates shoot him glares but he’s ignored for the most part. Something noticeably purposeful since he’s not exactly being quiet. Even Kirishima refuses to acknowledge his presence.

Yeah, that hurts.

He runs for two hours, lifts for one, and finishes with core for thirty minutes before his post-workout cooldown ritual. Thoroughly satiated and tired to the bone, he heads back to his dorm. Ignored this way too, he doesn’t bother saying goodnight to anyone. Not that he would usually. Not that he misses Ashido’s “Night blasty!!” on his way up the stairs.

He doesn’t give a shit.

He scrubs at his body with his last bits of energy and brushes his teeth half dead on his feet. Exhausted, he flops down on his bed and passes out almost immediately.

…

Someone’s screaming.

Katsuki lunges toward Shigaraki, whose hand barely grazes Izuku’s neck.

Izuku? When did he ever call the nerd something other than-

“DEKU!!!” Oh, he was the one screaming. He blasts himself forward and pushes Izuku out of the way, his dusted skin flaking off into the breeze as green hair skids to a stop on the ground below.

“Damn BRAT-” Shigaraki mutters, angrily scrunching his hand in mid-air before turning his attention to Katsuki. “YOU.” He points a cracked, pointed finger at Katsuki.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it old man?” He snorts, preparing his arms to blast again, he can feel the resistance from his last jump.

“You saved the little shit,” Shigaraki mutters to himself, nails dragging roughly down his neck, “must have a relationship, must be close to my enemy. Must die-”

Katsuki raises his hand, palms crackling in defiance, but he’s geared to go anyway.

Nothing happens.

“Fuck goddamnit!” His one fucking chance to get a drop on the guy and he’s out of juice? Fucking really?!

He’s so caught up in his fury he doesn’t notice the mad glint in the enemy’s eye. The way he smiles brokenly, bloody tongue barely peeking out.

“Poor little hero.” He mutters.

Katsuki jerks his head up just in time to see five fingers inches away from his face.

Well, this was fun.

“KATSUKI-” There’s pressure on his side and he falls, belatedly realizing he was pushed out of the way.

He looks hits the ground hard, hearing the reverberated snap of his ankle as it breaks.

“FALL HERO!! FALL BEFORE ME! YOUR NEW GO-”

Shigaraki falls to the ground as Todoroki whacks him over the head with a piece of rebar.

HIs normally stoic expression is frantic, he’s got fresh tears streaking down his face, and his forehead is covered in dried blood.

He tears his eyes away from the downed villain as Kirishima comes to cuff him, and screams in anguish at the sight of Izuku- Something Katsuki is still trying to wrap his head around.

A startled, almost pained sound escapes Katsuki as he half limps, half runs towards his best friend.

...best friend?

“IZUKU!”

Izuku has long since crumbled to his knees, clutching what remains of the left side of his face. Still slowly crumbling away. Blood pours down his arm and neck, making it difficult to see, but the sight of his eye frantically widening as Katsuki sits next to him is enough.

He removes his hand and sobs, throwing himself onto Katsuki.

“Eih- hgo-” He chokes, blood soaking Katsuki’s own suit as he rocks them both.

“Shh, it’s okay, Izuku.” He whispers, making eye contact with a sobbing Todoroki, who nods in approval.

“Izuku you’re gonna be fine.” The shock has yet to remove itself from Katsuki’s voice, and his words are filled with cracks and sobs, but he hopes it’s what Izuku needs.

“Aa- aah” Izuku’s broken kacchan followed by a fresh flow of blood down Katuski’s neck.

“I love you, Izuku. It’s gonna be alright.”

Izuku whimpers, clutching onto the blond’s neck for dear life.

And then he goes limp.

Katsuki’s eyes bug out, and he pulls Izuku arm’s length away. The gruesome sight that greets him is one he’ll never forget.

Izuku’s left eye hangs loosely down the side of his mangled cheekbone and jaw. Katsuki can see teeth starting to crumble as the decay works its way through his face. His nose is completely exposed, with no flesh left. No cute freckles. No scrunch when he smiles. And his other eye, possibly the worst part, stares lifelessly at Katsuki. The last remnants of tears make their way down his face.

He looks… terrified.

He died scared in the arms of his abuser. Someone who never even apologized to him. For fucking anything. Some vile part of Katsuki reminds him.

He saved me because I couldn’t do my fucking job.

He thrusts Izuku’s lifeless body into Shouto’s arms, who lets out a heartwrenching sob. Katsuki scrambles back, and can vaguely register the sound of pink cheeks vomiting behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” becoming increasingly more desperate with each utterance of the word, “FUCK!” Kirishima comes up behind him, picking him off the dust-covered ground and holding him to his chest. “This is all my fault!!!” He wails, “He fucking saved me, I couldn’t- this isn’t right no no NO-”

“Shhhh Katsuki-” Eijirou soothes him through his own tears, always the constant in Katsuki’s life. Well, after Deku.

Deku Deku Deku.

Dead Deku.

Because of you.

Katsuki takes another good look at Deku’s face where Shouto had freaked and discarded him on the ground. The unnatural bend of his arms, the bloody drool escaping his parted- if you can even call that a mouth anymore, his eyes.

And he screams.

He screams and he screams and he screams until someone shakes him so hard he wakes up.

Wait-

“BAKUGO!!! WAKE UP PLEASE-” Shitty hair screams at him, shaking his shoulders desperately as he thrashes in his sheets.

He stills, staring up at Kirishima with a shocked expression.

“Wh-”

“You were having a nightmare,” Kirishima explains, gasping for breath like he just ran a marathon.

Katsuki looks to the doorway where half of the boys in their class stand, expressions varying from worried to shocked.

He looks back at Kirishima, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat, “It- it wasn’t real?”

Katsuki looks to the door, half expecting to see Izuku there.

Missing an ear, you can see his tongue through his cheek.

Katsuki gulps, “Where’s Izuku?” He murmurs into the quiet room.

“Izuku?” Someone in the hallway mutters.

“Uh,” Kirishima catches himself before he can say something dumb, “Izu?- Uh- Midoriya is probably in his room. Didn’t think you’d want him here, but he knows. You kinda woke up the whole dorm.”

Kirishima has barely finished the sentence before he’s jumping out of bed, pajamas be damned, and sprinting toward the stairs. When he gets to Izuku’s floor he makes a hard right, Icyhot shouting something about being nice behind him.

Katsuki can yell at him later.

Running gives him time to think, and the more Katsuki thinks the more he realizes that his nightmare might as well have been a prophecy. Izuku would pull some martyr shit like that, but it was only Katsuki’s fault in the first place that he was put in that situation. He’s the only one to blame. Izuku had done everything right, and Katsuki managed to fuck it up.

Hollow socket, tendons hanging, blood turning his green suit a muddied brown.

Katsuki knocks on the door frantically, scared about what he’ll see when Izuku answers.

There’s some rustling from inside before Izuku peeks out, green curls messy from sleep.

“Wh- I thought Aoyama said you were having a nightmare.” His eyebrows furrow.

“I was,” Katsuki breathes, taking in how whole his rival is. “But it wasn’t real.”

He reaches out hesitantly and brushes an unruly lock of green out of Izuku’s left eye.

“Everything’s where it should be-” He chuckles almost in bewilderment.

He drags his fingers gently down Izuku’s cheek, tracing where the decay had rotted away skin, now whole.

A few of the classmates who followed him gasp in surprise when Katsuki clutches Izuku’s shoulders and buries his face in soft green hair. Completely breaking down as he sobs.

Izuku freezes, terrified of ruining the moment, even though he really wants to ask someone what the fuck is happening.

He gives Kirishima a questioning look as he hesitantly rubs along Katsuki’s back.

The redhead just shrugs.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

Aaaand the damn breaks.

Izuku sobs as Katsuki clutches him tighter, their friends begin to awkwardly back out of the hallway after witnessing whatever that was.

“Wh- Kacchan?” He pulls away reluctantly, but he needs to see Katsuki’s face.

The blond’s eyes are red and puffy, same as his cheeks, but he’s dead serious.

“I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, you’re a really good guy.” He heaves in a breath, “And- I know you’ll be a great hero someday.”

“Kacchan… why?”

Katsuki looks away, “I just- thought about some things,” He doesn’t mention that the thinking involved seeing his classmate’s bloodied corpse, “realized how full of myself I am. You really did just want help on that math homework, huh?” He huffs, shaking his head at his past self.

“I did. What else would I have wanted?”

Katsuki sniffs, angrily rubbing at his eyes, “I don’t know, Izuku. I’m a fucking idiot.”

Izuku smiles sadly, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be your friend, Kacchan.

The blond nods, “Yeah, I think I see that now. Can- can we still do that? Be friends?”

Izuku beams, rubbing his own tears away and pulling Katsuki into another tight hug.

“There’s nothing I want more, Katsuki.”

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 7/?

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N Any Name (your best friend’s name), (Name) - your ex’s name !genderneutral (Don’t use a DC character! Y/N hasn’t dated any other DC character!) :)

3.5k words, my god. And they’ve still only known each other for 4 days and we’re on part 7. I do not know how to finish this.

Lol, Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, Heated moments, There is French in this one, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Falling asleep in Jason’s arms after that escapade the two of them pulled the night before was something magical to say the least. Of course, they only got like 5 hours of sleep before they had to wake up and get out, at risk of Y/N being caught in the building, although the thrill of it excited the both of them deeply, but that’s obvious. They liked breaking the rules already.

Riding back home seemed a lot less like a journey to her this time, she just wanted to spend more time with Jason, but he had work and she didn’t want to hang out at Wayne Enterprises. She’d probably go to the library today, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do today, but she always thought that was the most exciting thing ever. “I don’t know what I’m even going to do tomorrow,” one of her friends asked when she moved to Gotham, ‘How exciting!’ she answered.

That friend said the next day she ran through the streets of Metropolis with her arms outstretched like a kid, and she did it in Y/N’s honor. “I told you!” she said, “How exciting that sometimes you never know what you’re going to do tomorrow!”.

These thoughts swirled in her head as Jason drove her back home when, like clockwork, like it was out of a movie, he said,

“I have no idea what I’m even going to do today.”

She laughed, “I always say ‘How exciting!’ when someone says that to me.”

“Really?”

“One of my friends back home, when I gave her that advice, she then spent the next day running around the city with her arms outstretched in my honor, it was apparently one of the more fun things she’s ever done, so” she paused, “I really mean it. how exciting! The possibilities are endless, are they not?”

“Well, not really, I have work to do,” he frowned.

“So own it. Make the office your bitch. Take charge, take lead.”

“Why not?” he said in agreement.

“Why the fuck not.”

-------------------------------------------

Jason walked her to her door, “Won’t you be late?” she asked,

“Dad knows where I am, I don’t think I’ll have my ass handed to me.”

“You never know,” she laughed.

He laughed too and slightly pecked her lips. He wanted more, he was hungry for more out of that kiss, but work and life gets in the way of their relationship, and he really whined when he had to break away, but she laughed at it.

“Slow your roll Tiger, one day,” she mused.

“You say that like you don’t want more.”

“This isn’t about me,” she retorted, “So, shut up, respectfully.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her hand, “You have a thing for doing that, huh?” she joked.

“I literally don’t know how to answer that, I think I’m losing my touch with flirting,” he joked back.

“Okay, okay, you need to get going now.”

“Fine! You want to get rid of me so badly, I get it,” he joked and walked back to the car and she waved him off. She hated that time he left, a lot. She knew it was healthy to take a day’s break if they’ve been on 3 back-to-back dates, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

She opened her door and walked in, thinking A/N was asleep so she wouldn’t be barraged for her hair being a mess, but, boy oh boy, was this girl waiting for her to get home.

“What happened? Why’s your hair a mess? Oh my god, did you have sex?” she asked.

“No, but we kissed, will you take that as information while I shower or do you want all the details now?”

“You can shower, you can shower. I’m not that needy.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N joked and went to go shower.

And like she always did, she opened her phone and looked at the news before answering her friends,

Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd's Girlfriend’s Name Revealed!

She laughed, cause it wasn’t her name. She didn’t think he was seeing anyone else, and they used her picture, so she knew they just fucked it. She forwarded the article to Jason with the caption �� Fuckin’ idiots’ .

She then answered Artemis, who asked Did you two kiss? Dick’s up my ass about it ‘cause he knows we’re friends.

I want to take that out of context so badly. She joked with Artemis.

I knew this man had a terrible name that would come to haunt me, but did ‘ya kiss?

Yeah we did. Get Dick out of your ass, though, that’s weird, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

Shut up, you’re not funny.

I’m pretty funny.

You are but I’m not going to admit that, girl.

And one of her old friends had texted her, it was someone who Y/N had seen off and on the past few years, they were polite, but she didn’t exactly want to speak to her ex.

Hey.

(Name)? What do you want?

Saw you in the news with the rich boy, guess we’re over?

We have been over for like 5 months, my guy. 

Bitch.

Okay!

People from her hometown were noticing her in the articles and recognizing her. Some would think this is the coolest thing that someone they loved met a nice boy, the money a bonus, some would give her the reaction her ex did, but she knew she was days, hours, maybe minutes away from her parents finding out about her love affair with Jason.  

She shuddered at the thought, she loved her parents, a lot, but something told her that maybe they wouldn’t did Jason to be like she found him. She also knew she could be overthinking it entirely and they’d like the Criminal Psych Major that she knew all-too-well.

But overthinking was fun, apparently. And she couldn’t stop thinking the worst of so much.

------------------------------------------------

When she got changed and just threw on whatever the fuck she saw, she went out to go talk to A/N.

“Hey, nerd. I’m done,” Y/N said.

“Nerd? You’re the one dating the bookworm and  you’re in criminal psychology,” she joked.

“Ha, ha. So, how are things with your lover? Have you secured him yet or are you just doing your own thing still?”

“Still just doing our own thing, don’t really have the time to date while getting my degree and working.”

“I mean, if it works for you I can’t throw judgment.”

“What about Jason? How’re things with you two?”

“You ever seen the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom before?”

“In pictures, why- Don’t tell me he took you there you lucky bitch?!”

“Then I just wont tell you,” she laughed.

“The Ballroom? Oh my god, that’s crazy, he's really pulling out all the stops to make you smile, huh?”

“I would do the same if I had more to offer, but I have barely anything since I bought that place in the dance competition across the country,” she said.

Y/N had bought a place in this competition before she met Jason, and she was heading to it on Saturday, in two days, and she actually had practiced the routine during downtime between her and Jason. She hadn’t exactly told Jason about this, and Jason had asked why she looked strained and like her muscles hurt, but that just never seemed like something you share with your casual partner, to her. She never seemed like her casual competitions were worth anything. A/N had begged to differ since Y/N had met her.

A/N said that Y/N had talent, that she could go somewhere, Y/N saw it as an extra circular that didn’t affect her much. She wasn’t the type of brag, and all her trophies were back home with her parents, anyway.

“Have you told him about your,” insert A/N’s heavy sarcasm, “’Casual’  competitions, yet?”

Idk what the hell happened with that line ya love to see it

“I’ll send him a quick text about it, I guess,” she sighed and sent just a quick, Hey, can’t have a date on Saturday-Sunday, forgot to tell you but I’m going to Cali for a quick dance competition, lol. My bad, shoulda said something.

“Why are you like this, be proud of your accomplishments, dammnit!”

“It’s a casual competition!”

“And you’re talented! I’m this close to just showing him videos of you going at it,” she said, exasperated.

“He already knows, we danced in the Ballroom.”

“Oh my lord,” she laughed, “You’re an enigma, if I had your amount of trophies I wouldn’t be hiding it.”

“Im’ not hiding it! It just kind of never came up.”

And he texted back, Oh damn, are you at least going to kill it? You better, I want to show the live broadcast to my family and brag.

She laughed, “See!”, she exclaimed, showing A/N the texts, “He doesn’t care like you do, nerd.”

A/N laughed, “Sure he doesn’t. Do you want to go to lunch, by the way? I’m bored off of my ass.”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Go get dressed then, and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay okay, meet up in 10?”

“Yes ma’am.”

And off they went.

---------------------------

Y/N texted back Jason for a quick minute before getting dressed, Of course I’m going to kill it, my notes aren’t a representation of my dancing skills.

Well, I hope you win something. And text me. But mainly win something.

Of course I’ll text you, Jay. It gets boring at competitions.

You should go to a Wayne Gala then, god damn, those fuckin bastards are the most boring events this side of America.

Well maybe you’ll invite me one day.

I’ll probably have to if you show up on National TV. The press will finally know your name.

I hope I’m not on National TV then. Fuck the press.

Fuck the press indeed.

Since Y/N didn’t feel the need or want to dress up, she didn’t. Quick shirt and jeans and she was out the door. Sometimes she would dress up for lunch dates with her friends, just because she was bored as fuck and dressing up was fun, but she just didn’t want to do it today. Combat boots, jeans and a shirt were enough most days. You don’t have to be a model just because the press knows your face, she thought, you don’t.

“Who’s driving?” A/N asked.

“I can if you want. I don’t mind,” Y/N said as they walked to the beat up car they loved so much. It was nothing compared to the Porsche she had been in the night before, but it was still running, and you don’t fix something that ain’t broke.

“Maybe your boyfriend will buy you a new car,” A/N joked.

“If anything, he’d buy me a new computer, since mine is getting mailed to me and you’re going to love hearing the sounds that bitch makes,” she retorted.

“Is it bad?”

“Terrible. My sister called it a screaming electronic goat once,” she laughed, “I hate that fucking thing. But if it ain’t broke-”

“Don’t fix it, I know.”

“Exactly.”

--------------------------------------------------

For some reason, they decided in the car to go to McDonald's, because hey, it’s not like Y/N is on a  dance diet or anything. She wasn’t, because she didn’t want to starve herself for the sake of winning a competition. That was even her thought process as she was younger and more vulnerable to her teachers, she always told them she’d never do that. Years later, she still stuck to that mindset.

They got out of the car and like fucking clockwork, the press was in her face.

“You! The girl with no name, Jason Todd’s girlfriend!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she whispered under her breath, “How do they always find me!”

“Tell us about yourself! Are you serious with Jason? How do you feel about his family? How-”

But then she had an idea,

“Quoi? Je parle pas l’Anglais? Qu’est-ce-que vous voulez?” she said, using her bilingual skills to her advantage.

“What? No I mean-”

“Pas de l’Anglais! Désolé mes amis!” and she ran off into the McDonald's with A/N.

“Did you just speak French to get them off your ass, you genius?”

“Spoke very broken French because I wasn’t thinking, but yeah, I did that.”

“I forget you’re multi-talented sometimes, you have a lot hidden under your belt and I try to treat you like a normal person but you’re far from it.”

“I appreciate you for trying, but I think with my new love affair, you aren’t going to get far with those attempts anymore, sorry,” she joked.

Jason texted her, Did you just speak French to avoid the press?

How do you know about that?

We were watching the news during a meeting and they said that you spoke French.

You got to do what you got to do to get by.

That is literally the most genius thing I’ve heard of anyone doing in so long. I think you’ve truly bamboozled them for a while and they might hop off of your back for a while.

You think so? ‘Cause I really hope that’s the case.

My siblings think it’s hilarious, and no one’s leaked that you are just joking with the press, so yeah, they might actually leave you alone.

Let’s fucking go. That is the news of the 21st century.

4 days of knowing each other and you’ve flipped off the press twice, outran them with me once, hid in the Wayne Enterprises Building with me and you’ve spoken French to bamboozle the press. That is impressive.

I feel like the press is going to hate me one day.

Probably. But they also hate most of us most days.

You should probably get back to work.

Yeah, talk to you soon.

She put her phone away and went to stand with A/N, who was waiting for their food.

“Talking to your lover?” she joked.

“When am I not doing that?”

“That’s valid.”

-----------------------------

Going on a lunch date with A/N made a little bit of the harassment just better. They both bonded over how they hated the press before her love affair with Jason, and how their opinions wouldn’t change much unless, knock on wood, one of them went missing. Y/N told her about all the cases where the press and the internet did so much to solve cases around the world, love or hate the press, they did do a lot for solving crime.

She also told A/N that Jason was related to Dr. Barry Allen and Clark Kent, two people the two of them knew well because of the news and the fact that A/N knew Y/N when she wanted to go into forensics and was reading Dr. Barry Allen’s work.

When her mother texted her.

Y/N? Is that you in the press running around with Jason Todd?

Yeah mum, why?

Are you two in a serious relationship?

No mum.

Then why are the vultures so obsessed with you, says your dad.

‘ Cause you two made a pretty girl and he’s high up in the world, I guess, I don’t know. I don’t really like the press.

I can tell. We’re not mad at you honey, but be careful. And your dad says when you two get serious he needs to take Jason fishing.

He doesn’t speak French, mum.

Dad says he’ll work on his English for you.

Well tell everyone I love them, mum.

She panicked a little bit, her parents were nice when they wanted to be, but they were strict, why wouldn’t they be. So this, while being a welcomed surprise. was still a little panicky.

“Your  parents find out?”

“Yeah, they seem chill with it though.”

“Bing in the press sucks when you’re trying to keep your love life out of your parents' eyes, huh?”

“You could say that again,” she joked.

“Being in the press sucks when you’re-”

“I didn’t mean literally!” they laughed.

--------------------------------

Back at Wayne Enterprises, Jason was betting bombarded by his colleges, friends and family about Y/N and how she was able to get around the press’ constant harassment without flaw. And also because Bruce had seen the two enter the building at around 12am the night before. So Jason was called into Bruce’s office that day.

“1, I know everyone is bombarding you, so you can hide out here, son, 2, you and Y/N didn’t have sex in your office right?”

“God no, dad. We just hid here because security is tight as fuck and unable to get past.”

“I saw you two kissing on the cams and heading into your office, Jay.”

“Okay, okay, but we didn't have sex and the intentions were there, dad!”

“Uh huh, pretty girl in your, my, car.”

“Dad, stop it,” he joked.

“Well, her little shenanigans with the press are very amusing, have you told her that?”

“I have.”

“She’s basically not afraid to tell them what we all think.”

“That’s what I said, dad.”

“Well, hold onto that one and don’t let her go.”

“Do you regret doing that with Talia?” Jason asked.

“God no, she’s insane. The son I got out of her antics is literally her spitting image, so if I need to be reminded of her I can just go talk to Damien for a couple minutes.”

“Dami’s a lot like you too, don’t act like his personality is just Talia, he acts like his dad in every aspect and you know that.”

“Lord help any woman or man that kid goes on to date, my god,” the two of them laughed. It was the small things with Bruce that made Jason happy to be a Wayne, even if he didn’t share the last name. Jason grew up on the streets and even before that, his mum and dad didn’t have a lot of money, so the amounts of money that Bruce could shower on him was a lot, but he was okay with just working for his money. And Bruce knew that.

He spent a lot of his workday in Bruce’s office, hiding from the rest of the office, and texting Will.

She knows about your kid.

Well, she’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re bragging about her, means I raised her right.

Shut up. I love that little girl and I’ve helped raise her, Will.

You’re used to my new name?

I changed your contact to Will when you changed your name, so I could remember that that’s your name now and not Roy. I’m hoping I remember it in person though. It would be awkward if I forgot my best friend’s name.

It would be funny to look back on, though.

Like how your relationship with Jade is funny now?

Never stick your dick in crazy.

I wish you would have listened to that sometimes, but then I remember Lian is amazing.

I’m a cliché of dumb choices, what can I say Jaybird.

----------------------

In Y/N’s house, she would always play loud and sad music when she had the chance, some people thought her mental state was fucked, which sometimes it was, but most of the time the sad music went harder than the happy tunes you would catch from the other side of the house.

But even if music was blasting the loudest it could ever be, somehow she would still find herself lost in her thoughts, whether it was new dance routines or a story she would scribble down in her dream journal. there was something about those little fits of artistic passion she would experience from time-to-time.

It’s hard to put into words how those moments reminded her of the simplier times before sh was thrust into stardom, but also how they reminded her of Jason, and untouched mind she longed to know further. She knew there was so much more to the boy she had gone on dates with.

She would end up ignoring her phone for most of the rest of that day, just because she wanted peace and quiet, when A/N’s lover came over and she had to turn the music up louder so she wouldn’t be disrupted by the obvious.

I just got off of work, how are you? How’s your day been? Jason had texted Y/N while she ws turning up the music.

Well, I just had to turn up my music because my roommate’s lover is over, but other than that I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet in my room, waiting for something to do.

Is texting me something to do?

Yes.

That’s sweet of you. Work was boring though so I hope you don’t expect a story.

I don’t, don’t worry. You don’t always need a story for something to do.

Well, I’m going home with my brothers and dad, and we’re probably going to play office chair racing because I’m a bad boy.

You’re a bad boy?

Was that not funny?

It was pretty funny, isn’t that dangerous though?

Yeah actually, my brother broke his leg playing it and another time my little sister broke her leg playing it.

It seems fun but like, damn, two people have gotten injured playing that game, y’know.

Well if I die it’ll be a fun story!

[drabbles-mc]

Five Times Angel Reyes Kissed You, and One Time You Kissed Him

Angel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, mention of death/funerals

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Okay I got this idea at like midnight last night and I’m SO GLAD that I didn’t lose it before being able to sit down and write it. I’m pretty hype about how this came up. We LOVE to see relationships evolve.

Angel Taglist:​ @queenbeered​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)

1.)

You were fifteen, sitting on the front steps of your porch. You were sobbing into your hands, wondering how you could feel so much pain when you hadn’t even taken a beating. First heartbreaks were the worst, or at least that’s what people had told you. Some said it was bound to happen eventually, after all you were young, but that didn’t make the pain go away. You were a teary, sniffling mess. You heard footsteps approaching you and you didn’t even bother to look up to see who it was. You didn’t care.

You felt an arm wrap around you and you heard Angel’s voice, “What happened? I’ll kick his ass.”

You looked up and managed what you could of a smile. You knew him only because he was your best friend’s brother. He was a few years older than you, but he had never treated you like a child. He treated you the same way he treated EZ—like an adult only smaller.

“It’s so fucking stupid,” you wiped the tears off of your face, “He’s not even that cute, right?”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement, “That’s right. You can do way better, Y/N. Fuck that guy.”

You sighed and leaned against him, “Do boys get less stupid as they get older?”

He laughed, “I’ll keep you posted, but so far, no I don’t think so. Sorry,” he squeezed you tight to him, “You gonna be alright?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, “Yea. It just, you know, it kinda blows right now.”

He nodded, “I get it,” he quickly kissed the top of your head, you could feel the pressure through your hair, “You’ll get through it, Y/N. If you change your mind about me kicking his ass, let me know. I’ll fuck up a fifteen-year-old. I don’t care.”

 ---

2.)

You were eighteen, coming down the front steps of your house in your prom dress. You and EZ had decided to go together as friends (as much as both your parents and his tried to insist that maybe it was a little more than that). You both wanted to have a good time and the only way you could be certain of that was if you skipped the drama of trying to find “real dates”. There were worse people to spend the night dancing with, anyway.

Somehow Angel had gotten suckered into being your guys’ chauffer. You were fairly certain it was their parents’ doing—they liked knowing what Angel was up to. He moaned and groaned about it but had gone and got his pickup truck washed in preparation for the big night. He put on a clean dress shirt for the occasion as well, so you knew that despite his sarcastic remarks, he was pretty into the whole thing.

You twirled, loving the way your dress fanned out around you as you did. EZ was leaning against the side of his brother’s truck, chuckling at your theatrics. The two of you posed for pictures, and after each set of parents had burned through at least a few rolls of film each, it was time to get going. Angel held his hand out to help you up into his truck.

When you placed your hand in his, he lifted and kissed the back of it with a laugh, “I will be your driver this evening, Hermosa.”

You laughed and gave an exaggerated courtesy in your gown, “Ah, I can’t wait, Señor.”

He chuckled as he helped you step up into the vehicle, expertly managing not to step on your own dress. He even double-checked to make sure that he didn’t shut any of the fabric in the door.

He nodded to both sets of parents, “I’ll be sure to have them home before midnight.”

 ---

3.)

You were nineteen, and calling him from a college party. EZ was away at Stanford and you didn’t know who else you trusted enough to come and pick you up and also not rat you out to your parents. You weren’t supposed to be at a party—you had lied and said you were staying at a friend’s dorm for a movie night.

“Angelito,” you laughed into the phone, “I need a huge favor.”

His voice was still laden with exhaustion and sleep as he answered, “What the fuck kind of favor do you need at 2AM, Y/N?”

“I need you to come pick me up from a party.”

“You kidding me? Call an Uber.”

You laughed, “I also need a place to crash. I know you have a couch that you’re not using in your living room.”

He sighed but you could hear him shuffling around, getting ready to come get you, “You good enough to ride on the bike? Or do I need to go get Pop’s truck?”

“I can ride!” your response came a little quicker than maybe it should have, but you were dying to have an excuse to ride on the back of Angel’s bike.

“Alright. Text me the address. I’m on my way now.”

He got there quicker than you thought he would. You were outside the house, waiting patiently for him on the front steps. You smiled as you jumped up to go and hug him, stumbling on your first few steps. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he hesitated for a moment before finally caving and hugging you back.

“You owe me for this,” he grumbled.

He handed you his helmet and helped you get on the back of the bike. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, keeping yourself flush up against his back as he took off. You had never experienced anything quite like the feeling of racing down the empty streets like that in the middle of the night.

You walked into his apartment and looked around as he locked the door behind you, “I put a pillow and blankets on the couch for you. I can go grab you a shirt and stuff to sleep in if you wait a second.”

You plopped down on the couch as he walked to his room to get you a few choices of sleep clothes. But as soon as your head hit the pillow and you felt the warmth of the blankets beneath you, you almost immediately fell asleep.

You were hanging onto your consciousness by a thread when you heard him chuckle. He pulled the blanket up over you and kissed your forehead softly, “Sweet dreams, you pain in the ass.”

 ---

4.)

You were twenty-one, and standing in front of Angel and the rest of his family, or rather, what was left of it, at his mother’s wake. You had made your way down the line, offering your condolences like they were going to make things any better for the three men in front of you. Angel was the last in the short line, and you could see it on his face that he desperately wanted to be anywhere else. He couldn’t escape though, not really.

You stepped in and hugged him tightly, “I’m so sorry, Angel.”

You could feel the tension in his body as he tried his hardest to hold back his tears, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Can I do anything? Get you anything?”

“Could you, uh,” he cleared his throat, “grab my water bottle? It’s in the back room I fuckin’ forgot it.”

You nodded, “Yea I got you.”

You tried to make your way through the crowd of people with as little disturbance as possible. You knew that everyone loved the Reyes family, and Marisol especially, but even you were shocked at the number of people who had showed up for the wake. You had the feeling it was going to go well past the allotted time.

You appeared back by Angel’s side, trying to slip him his water bottle without disturbing the conversation he was having. You lightly touched his hand and gestured to the bottle by his feet, “Anything else?”

He shook his head, “No, thank you, Y/N.”

You pulled him into another hug, unable to stop yourself. You had spent a lot of time with EZ during the week leading up to the wake, but Angel had locked himself away. This was the first time you had really seen him since you heard the news and you felt like you were trying to make up for lost time.

“Anything you need,” you whispered, “You come find me, alright? I got you.”

He kissed your cheek and nodded as he pulled away, “Thank you. I, just, thank you.”

You thumbed the tears off of his face, giving him a small smile to let him know that he was going to make it through this. It was going to be a long, painful process, but he was going to get through it.

 ---

5.)

You were twenty-one, and crying on the front steps to Angel’s apartment building. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your best friend had just been sentenced to spend twenty years in prison. Everything was happening so quickly around you and you felt like you couldn’t keep up.

You heard the sound of Angel’s bike and looked up. He saw you sitting on the front steps and his expression immediately fell. He had a feeling that you were going to end up at his place—he knew that you didn’t want to go home and face your family and all of the questions that they would have.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He nodded, “Yea, I know the feeling,” he held out his arms, “C’mere, Y/N.”

You stood up and walked over to him and let him envelop you. Over the years he had made fun of you a lot for being so short, but in that moment you had never been happier to be so small. You were essentially wrapped up in an Angel blanket and for a few moments the world didn’t feel like it was crumbling around you.

“Come on up, I got beer in the fridge,” he offered what he could of a smile as he gestured for you to follow him upstairs.

You sat on his couch, twisting your hands in your lap as he went and got each of you a beer from the kitchen. He collapsed down next to you and handed you a bottle. You managed a small smile and thanked him before taking a long drink from it. The two of you sat there in silence, leaning against each other as you tried to process everything that had happened.

“I don’t have anything to say to make any of this shit any better, you know,” he finally said with a heavy sigh.

You nodded, “I know. I just needed to not be alone. And I couldn’t go home. Not yet.”

“I get it. You wanna crash here tonight?”

“If that’s alright?”

He smiled, “Like I could ever kick you out.”

The two of you spent most of the night not speaking to each other, just sitting next to each other on the couch letting episode after episode of your favorite shows play. You were leaning your head against his shoulder and every now and then he would look over at you to see if you had started to fall asleep yet.

“Want a change of clothes to sleep in?” he offered.

You nodded, “That’d be great.”

He went and grabbed one of his sweatshirts and tossed it to you, “This shit’ll be a dress on you.”

You stood up and started walking towards the bathroom to get changed, thanking him as you went. You knew that he didn’t have to be doing all of this, but he was anyway. It felt nice and that wasn’t something you had felt for a while.

When you came back out of the bathroom he had blankets and pillows on the couch for you. He pulled you into another hug and placed a kiss on your temple as he held you, letting you cry it out a little more before going to sleep. You wished that you could sleep like that, just to feel safe and protected in the chaos that was surrounding you now. He ran his fingers through your hair and all you could think was that you didn’t know he was capable of being so soft.

“If you need anything just yell, alright?”

You nodded, “Thank you, Angel.”

He winked, “I gotchu.”

 ---

1.)

You were twenty-seven and standing on the deck of the Mayans clubhouse, smoking a cigarette. You blew out the smoke, letting it disappear in wisps around you into the night sky. There was music and laughter and conversation drifting out to your ears from the open clubhouse windows and you smiled to yourself as you kept your eyes on the stars.

You heard heavy footsteps followed by the infamous sound of Angel sucking his teeth, “Ay, you shouldn’t be smoking that. Smoking kills, Querida,” he chuckled as he snatched the cigarette from between your fingers, “Let me finish it for you. To protect you.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Yea, always looking out for me, huh?”

“Since the day EZ dragged your sorry ass over to our house when you were in like, fifth grade,” he laughed as he looped his arm around your shoulder.

“Thanks for the invite, by the way,” you nodded back to the clubhouse, “The guys seem pretty cool.”

He took a long drag from your cigarette and smiled at you, “I’m gonna have to bring you to every club party now, aren’t I?”

You laughed and playfully slapped his chest, “Only if you don’t want me to be sad.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “Can’t have that, can we?”

The two of you stood together in silence for a couple minutes. His arm was still wrapped around your shoulders and you leaned into his side, soaking up his scent and body heat. While he was glancing up at the sky you reached and snatched your cigarette back from him, laughing as you ran off to the opposite side of the deck to take a drag before he finished it off.

He laughed, walking over to you. He easily took it from your fingers and held his arm up so it was way out of your reach, “Whatcha gonna do now, Y/N? Grow an extra foot to get your smoke back?”

“If I take you out at the knee I won’t have to do anything like that,” you chuckled as you stood up on your tippy-toes to try and pull his arm back down.

He flicked the last of the cigarette over the railing of the deck, assuring that neither of you were going to be able to finish it. He turned back towards you with a smug grin on his face, “Hah! No taking out my kneecaps.”

You pushed him with both hands on his chest, but he still didn’t budge. He laughed, shaking his head at your attempt to be tough, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

You stepped in close to him, getting as close to eye-to-eye as you were ever going to get with someone who was practically a foot taller than you. “I could easily make you stumble, Angel. Believe me.”

“No chance,” he shook his head with a smirk.

“Wanna bet?”

“Oh, definitely,” he laughed.

Before he could come up with another sassy remark you stood back up on your toes and pulled him down into a kiss. His eyes flew open wide and he stumbled a few steps back, but kept his arms wrapped around you so you stayed close to him, kept kissing him.

You pulled away, laughing as your entire face turned dark red, “Told you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. If you didn’t know better you’d say that his cheeks were turning a little red too. “Alright,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him again, “that’s a loss I’ll gladly take.”

You smiled as you cupped his face, pulling him into another, much softer kiss. You could feel both of your hearts racing as he tried to keep you held as close to him as possible. You wrapped your arms behind his neck as you felt his hands slide down from your hips to your ass, and it made you smile into your kiss. You felt him chuckle his hands slid back up to your hips, and crept farther up your back.

Finally, you had to pull away to catch your breath. Angel had a smile plastered across his face and you knew that you did too. He reached up, gently pushing the hair back out of your face to get a better look at you.

“I could get used to this, Y/N,” he traced his thumb along your cheekbone.

You smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips, “Yea, I think I could too.”

[howdoyousleep3]

Miss K! Have you seen ozarkthedog’s edits of silverfox Senator Chris??? Reminded me of silverfox Senator Rogers oh god and I just know he’s gonna treat little itty bitty baby Intern Bucky so right 😍

YES I am finally getting to this, wowza. First, we must quite literally soak in @ozarkthedog​‘s gorgeous edits, let us drool.

W O W. 

Okay, so keeping those in mind here are some Intern Bucky and Silver Fox Senator thoughts...

This Senator Rogers has known he’s wanted Bucky since the interview, fresh eyes and bubbly spirit and sharp tongue, “You’ll bring somethin’ special to this team, kid…”

Mr. Rogers is all direct touches, wandering eyes, slick lips. He is squeezes on the back of Bucky’s neck, hot praise on his ear, proud eyes. The Senator is obvious, so much so that Bucky questions if what he is experiencing is indeed what he thinks it is or if this is the same treatment everyone else receives

It isn’t

One late evening proves just that. A one-on-one meeting, a lingering hand on Bucky’s waist that pulls him in tight between Senator Rogers’ thighs after a few tense seconds

A whispered, “Hear an awful lot’a hissin’ and spittin’ comin’ out of that mouth, Barnes. I’ve been wonderin’ if it’s possible for it to be sweet. God, it’s gotta be sweet sometimes, right? Look at it…” and a swipe of a thumb along his bottom lip is all it takes for Bucky’s insides to crumble and fall apart

He didn’t stand a chance against such an advancement

It was the, “Feisty bratty boys like you love callin’ a man like me ‘Daddy’. Ain’t that right, honey?” that sent him dick-first into this whirlwind secret physical relationship with Senator Rogers

Getting involved with his much older boss is simultaneously the worst and best thing that has ever happened to Bucky. He is both the dumbest but the most well-fucked he will ever be in his life

Bucky earned this scholarship and position, fought for it with his test scores, his grades, his involvement in the community and at school. He has tenacity, shows grit, fights for all things just. But get him on his knees in front of Senator Rogers and that rich and smooth voice, skilled hands, and high expectations, and Bucky is one dumb fuck

Mr. Rogers, Daddy, has rules, has expectations that he will not waiver on, will not soften on. Steve is a hard Daddy, only gives Bucky praise and reward when Bucky deserves it, tells Bucky to do better when he doesn’t. He runs a tight ship, both within this thing they have going and outside of that realm, in his career and office

Bucky’s favorite rule, and the one he has trouble with the most, is eye contact

No matter what Bucky is doing (sucking the Senator off as he continues diligently working at his desk, going sweet settled between those thighs with his mouth full, bouncing in the Senator’s lap and fucking himself on that fat cock) Mr. Rogers always expects Bucky’s eyes to be on him

“Wanna see you lookin’ at me any time I look at you. Daddy wants to see what he does to you, baby. Can you do that for me? Hmm, practice?”

Bucky tucked between the Senator’s legs behind the older man’s desk, putting his mouth to work, lazy and long strokes and suckles just like Mr. Rogers said he wanted. Bucky’s eyelids so very heavy, whimpering each time the Senator clicks his tongue or snaps his finger, pinches Bucky’s ear

Senator Rogers says training Bucky is his “goddamn favorite” because Bucky always wants to fight, is quick to retaliate, wants to snap and bite and throw a fit, “but with Daddy you wouldn’t fuckin’ dare. Know you’re gonna be sweet just for me…”

The Senator training Bucky to properly deepthroat his cock was remarkably memorable, something that Bucky touched himself for weeks and months to come, something that was so very intense

Daddy is big, and Bucky can take big, but Daddy is thick, very much so, toe-curlingly so. Bucky had made the mistake of scoffing, of rolling his eyes and dismissing Daddy’s warnings

He ended up sputtering around a mouthful of cock, drool on his chin, tears in his eyes, Daddy telling him to “hold it, hold it. Whats’a matter, sugar? Thought you said you could take it...” 

Bucky has never wanted to be good for anyone. He prides himself in his confidence, the fight that courses through each and every bone in his body. He’s never met someone that makes him yearn to be good, to be sweet, but Bucky wants to do everything right for Mr. Rogers

There’s nothing better when the Senator purrs, hums, when he curses low under his breath, when Bucky makes him come just like the older man told him to

There’s nothing sweeter when he refers to Bucky as “kitten”, when Bucky gets cockdrunk and his sweet lil’ brain dissolves like cotton candy in a puddle 

“S’a boy, there you go. Just love keepin’ Daddy’s dick wet, don’t you? Look how dumb you are for it. Yeah lemme have you, lemme have all’a you, come on…”

Nothing but the best for Daddy, absolutely nothing less, taps on Bucky’s cheeks, his thighs when he is caught slipping up 

Which happens a lot because Daddy can last so fucking long

This Daddy has stamina, this Daddy fucks for pleasure, prolongs it as long as he can. He has such control over his body that it makes Bucky’s own feel like it’s been put through the ringer after Daddy is done using it 

“Look at that,” Steve tends to say, hands spreading Bucky’s ass cheeks apart, a looker. “That’s a happy boy pussy right there, ain’t it, Buck? All that pretty pink, tight and warm all for me, huh? Yeah, know it is, s’right. This pussy hungry? S’it ready to be fed, is it ready for Daddy to fuck it full?” 

There is absolutely nothing Senator Rogers loves more than seeing the aftermath of their fuck. He never fails to grip Bucky’s chin, to give him a good once-over and a hot kiss, after he pulls himself out of Bucky’s body

Bucky is well-trained, knows to stay where he is once Daddy pulls out, no matter how messy he feels

Daddy’s purrs and sighs and curses as he sits and watches his come drip out of Bucky’s pussy, down his balls, down his thigh, bring Bucky far too much joy

"Fuck, that’s nice. Show me, show Daddy all of it, c’mon. You know what I like to see,” are shamefully Bucky’s favorite moments, where he lays in whatever position he is in and works the Senator’s come from his ass, where Steve rumbles and plays with him, plays with Bucky’s bitty hole and his own come, occasionally dropping his head down and using his mouth to continue to savor and enjoy the remnants of their fuck

This tends to be Bucky’s favorite moment for another reason as well, where he’s rewarded if he’s done a good job. Sometimes Senator Rogers leaves him waiting, leaves him hard, but other times he touches Bucky, hot and heavy, tells him he can come for being so good 

Bucky is to always say thank you as he comes, always squeals it as Daddy milks him for what he’s worth, “thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy...!” 

There’s always a debrief, always skin-on-skin contact, always a discussion of what was acceptable and what can be improved upon. It always leaves Bucky wanting to do better, looking forward to the next time the Senator gets to coach Bucky through a fuck...

Lord have mercy this got away from me. I hope these thoughts suffice! Similar yet a little different than my normal Senator. A little more filthy but more strict, hehe. No projection here, no no...👀 Thank you, nonnie! Also, another thank you to @ozarkthedog! 💕✨💖

[tigerdrop]

Cringe is dead, talk to me about the funny half-life men and their relationship

okay here is my essay. it is titled These Guys Actually Like Each Other, and Gordon Freeman Is Just Kind Of A Dick*

(disclaimer: these are just my 2 cents. dont take me too seriously! im just some guy online who has watched this shit too many times.)

first things first. these guys actually like each other. this is a key aspect of their relationship. benrey, obviously and textually, digs gordon freeman - you dont flirt that heavily with guys you arent into, and so much of what he says and does is geared around making gordon crack up. thats pretty gay.

but the counterpart to this is that gordon freemans pretty fucking gay for benrey, too. you may say, “oh, but word of god says its not requited!” and to you i will say: bull shit. gordon is uniquely obsessed with benrey compared to all the other characters. if gordon didnt like the fucking guy, he wouldnt giggle with him and share in-jokes with him and bring him up every 5 seconds when benreys not around. thats concern, bro. thats worry. thats real shit

but i cant blame people for thinking that gordon freeman genuinely doesnt like benrey. benreys partially responsible for some of the worst things that have happened to him, the Arm Thing among them. and gordons very insistent afterward that he doesnt like benrey. he even goes so far as to try to kill benrey a couple times. to this, i must argue that gordon freeman is just kind of a dick.

lets talk facts here. canon. Lore. from the moment we hop into gordons shoes, we can see that he is a jerk to every npc on his way into black mesa. this is his default: a dude who just runs his mouth and says rude shit. he calls tommy a freak within 5 minutes of meeting him. he infantilizes the guy and barely considers him a real scientist. he doubts that bubby is a real name for like no fuckin reason. in “real life”, this is because its funny, and wayne is trying to make a funny half-life stream. in a textual sense, this is because gordon “hlvrai” freeman is a dick. this is the way he acts, consistently, throughout the series.

(brief aside: this is why the whole “gordon is a nice guy and a great dad” characterization baffles me. the way he actually acts in canon is, in short, bitchy and lacking in self-awareness. and i love that for him, i really do. it makes the moments where he just tries to be a nice guy stand out. but thats the thing: his intermittent moments of decency and kindness are not the whole of his personality! this dude kind of sucks most of the time!)

the way that gordons general asshole attitude extends to benrey is complicated. in fairness, benrey makes it his job to annoy the shit out of gordon as much as possible, and that warrants a negative attitude, but gordons pretty paranoid and ends up blaming benrey for nearly everything that happens to him, regardless of if its warranted. this is a pattern he exhibits both before and after the Arm Thing. its a little bit of a dick move! especially considering that, prior to the whole “betrayal” subplot (which was not exactly planned very far in advance), benrey is no more malicious or annoying than anybody else gordons having to travel with.

(okay, this is kind of a subjective evaluation, but still. my point stands that benrey is not any more of a hindrance to his progress than anybody else in the science crew, and neither is he particularly more violent or murderous. hell, gordon freeman has probably killed more guys than benrey. benrey just tends to get.......special treatment.)

all that said, i am still convinced that gordon really fucking likes benrey. please consider with me the following: it would be remarkably easy for gordon to just ignore him and do what he has to do, but he doesnt. he could stop engaging. he could stop thinking about benrey. he could stop bringing benrey up to the rest of the crew every time benrey leaves to do his own thing for awhile. but he doesnt. and, again, yeah, the extra-textual reason for this is “two guys are doing an improv comedy thing and bouncing off of scorpy is kind of the point”, but within the text it reads to me as gordon not being about to get the dude off his mind.

and this is in addition to all the times we see gordon being genuinely nice and receptive toward benrey! its in the little things: laughing the hardest and longest at benreys jokes. only ever reciprocating that stupid underwater “BBBBB” thing with benrey. trying to catch benrey when he falls, despite his insistence moments earlier that benrey should hop in the wack ass crystal generator and get hypermurdered. fondly remarking that benreys sweet voice sounds beautiful. his sort of flustered responses to most of benreys overt flirting. none of this is the way normal people react to a guy they hate. this is all fuckin gay to me, man.

its this combination of the outward insistence that gordon hates benrey with his inner eagerness to be around him and think about him and engage with him that gives off strong “repression” vibes, to me. for whatever reason - pride, embarrassment, resentment - gordon maintains a front of hating the guy and wanting to kill him for a lot of the series, but it doesnt gel with the way he fucking giggles and plays along half the time that benrey starts fucking with him. its a game, and that game is one of the only ways gordon knows to manifest affection for him.

(remember “oh my god, hes got a knife!”? that was the gayest shit i ever seen in my life. tittering like a schoolgirl while benrey chases him around like “im gonna get you haha”. insanity.)

the cool thing about repression is that you can have it manifest in a lot of ways! and this is where things like “headcanons” and “my own personal affection for repressed bisexual men” come in. a lot of how i characterize their relationship is an extrapolation of a lot of things like gordons canonical insecurity issues/anxiety, gordons whole anti-bootboy thing screaming “internet wokeboy who means well but probably has a lot of repressed baggage” to me, etc.

how do you get massive amounts of sexual repression out of what you see in canon, you might ask? well. if wayne would stop having gordon talking about being jerked off by the suit, or talking about chugging a 40-gal drum of potion and having to hold his piss, or worrying about being eaten by benrey the moment he sees benrey at setscale 10, maybe i would have a higher opinion of gordon “hlvrai” freeman and whatever latent psychosexual issues hes got going on. but here we are

i havent even touched yet upon how benrey feels about gordon. this one is helpfully made a little more plain by the fact that benrey very much wants to suck his dick in canon. (i dont even have to go into details. we all know.) but IMO the best part about this ship isnt just that they dig each other, but how. benrey gets overtly flirtatious in the second half of the series, but IMO his preferred method of flirting is just fucking with gordon: chasing him with knives, shoving him around in a bathroom, trying to get scans of his feet. but all in like a slapstick, giggly, fun-and-games sense, you know? at least when it works.

a lot of the time, though, it doesnt work out that way. he clearly just likes doing it whether or not gordon responds positively. which is, you know, Weird. not very nice. but also in line with the way everybody else treats gordon freeman. gordons kind of the universes chew toy in any given universe, and the same holds true here. hes kind of helpless......subjected to 4 demons attempting to make his life as difficult as possible. in a way its cathartic.

sorry. i got sidetracked. anyway, benrey very much likes to mess with him and unnerve him and demean him and i will be perfectly frank with you: that is hot. i have problems and illnesses and one of them is that i am a masochist who goes crazy for that kind of thing. calling gordon a “dirty lil boy” and telling him to “look at the mess [he] made” is some straight up kink scene shit.

i like to imagine that a lot of this behavior isnt caused just by the guy who played him wanting to be funny and antagonistic, but by benrey as a character not really understanding what constitutes “pushing a joke too far”. hes not human, and whatever he is doesnt have a very normative way of understanding the world around him, full of people who actually get hurt for real and die for real. benrey expresses what seems to be genuine surprise and distress after the Arm Thing, as if he didnt know that his actions would have serious consequences. and it doesnt seem to fully sink in afterward, either.

it reads a lot to me like hes used to video game rules and treating people around him like NPCs. if they get hurt, its no big deal, because its not real. he likes jamming random buttons on gordons interface and seeing what comes out. its probably a lot of fun for him, the same way that seeing a streamer or a youtuber suffer for our amusement is fun. its like, you know, in my opinion, gordons very cute when hes frazzled. hes also cute when hes laughing. pushing gordons buttons has a 50/50 chance of either of these things. and this is how he ultimately flirts with gordon: by pulling his pigtails.

but at the same time, benrey does legit care about gordon and knows some boundaries. benreys the one most often shooting at enemies to protect gordon, and he spent most of the last act trying to convince gordon to turn around and not fight him because they were friends (best friends, to be specific). he just lacks a lot of the emotional intelligence it would take to express the feeling of “he digs gordon and likes seeing his face get all red and sweaty regardless of the cause”. and gordon lacks the emotional intelligence it would take to express the fact that he doesnt know if he likes or hates benrey and hes scared as hell that its the former

because, lets be real. unironic benrey-liking is a sign of problems disorder. just look at all these words ive written about it.

can you imagine? this bizarrely powerful, non-human entity that can shrug off gunfire and grow to the size of a building has decided that youre his new plaything. benreys the bored guy booting up skyrim and fucking around in the console, and gordons the hapless favorite follower that hes taken a liking to. its a really fun dynamic IMO

after all this, its safe to say my title is a little misleading. the asterisk stands for * and So Is Benrey, Actually. they are both kind of awful dudes who thrive off of teasing each other and they deserve each other. and i am crazy about it. thank u for coming to my TED talk

[dissonantdreamer]

Do you got any Talia HC?

I have a few, they’ll be under a cut as always because i’m either sparing feeds from a wall of text or creating some mystery. who knows at this point.

some lighter ones first:

she had a very dry sense of humor

she called dina, little yucca,  (emphasis on the yuck) after the plant, whenever dina was annoying her

she can fuckin’ sing, but she hates the attention of singing. for dina though, she’d sing. usually softly and when dina couldn’t fall asleep. dina would ask her to sing old abba songs because she found a cd once and they used to listen to it everyday with their mother before things went to shit.

she protected dina from seeing the worst of what happened to their mother

the glasses she wears are the correct prescription in one eye, some times she’ll walk around with the bad eye closed to give it a rest, it does help with her aim

she is one hell of a sharp shooter, dangerous with a rifle she liked to take people out before they get close over throat slitting or the like (that ends up being dina’s method later in their journey and she hates it because it reminds her of her first non fungal kill)

she killed several raven members on her own and was a capable killer. she only did so when she had to, never sought it as a means until later after she’d been put through so much hell to survive, they lost their mother and she broke.

she was the one that made dina’s bracelet, she also enjoyed embroidery

and now the sad stuff

my biggest head canon is that she is buried in Jackson. the star of david grave is the only one in the cemetery that I have found and it’s placed prominently enough that, if you linger around the level enough dina looks to it. (yes it could be neil being neil but that just makes me inclined to believe there is more to it)  the head canon i have is that talia, after getting dina and herself out of new mexico began trekking as far away a possible from the ravens. her paranoia was part of her trauma and she wouldn’t let them stay in one place for too long, not trusting of other people, as a foil to dina who trusts in the way most kids do. it becomes dangerous and obsessive in a way that dina can’t break her from it. can’t get her sister to breathe for two seconds. the pressure and anxiety chips away at both of them.

They catch wind of jackson from a particularly tough group of folks they run into as they’re approaching wyoming. talia doesn’t want to believe that there is this bastion of the old world, but dina is tired of running, tired of having to leave in the middle of the night because talia heard a noise, it’s put a strain on their relationship and so she decides “jackson it is” and they head toward what ends up being a trap. in my mind this would parallel joel’s “this is what happens when you trust moment” except talia doesn’t feel relief, she feels anger and her paranoia is justified. because the one time she let herself trust is the one time she let dina down and put her in danger she’s not sure she can get them out of. she manages to convince dina to hide and to under no circumstance, no matter what happens stay hidden. because she is going to get them out. it’s a lie, but she needs dina to believe it.

she watches as her sister is tortured for information. the group that told them of jackson didn’t send them to jackson but to the hunters outside, if she had cooperated talia would have helped them infiltrate jackson, but she in her paranoia no longer believes jackson was ever real and she mocks her captors, keeps their focus on her, tells them her traveling companion was bitten and she had to shoot them. from her hiding place dina watches the men leave to set up a new encampment and she runs thinking she can find help, except she disobeys and goes back to realize talia is dead. dina runs into tommy while he is on watch with joel and esther who bring her into jackson and because tommy and maria are the type of people they are, they do their best to give talia a proper burial and dina a proper life. going so far as the sweep the former hunter camp and retrieve the body so dina can mourn.

despite what happened dina doesn’t actively seek revenge because she knows that wouldn’t bring talia back. she remembers her and over time opens up, to jesse first and then ellie about her sister.

there are plenty more floating around that i’ve seen that are really good. i’d like to see more jewish hc for talia (i personally don’t think i’m qualified enough to speak on that aspect of her character as i’m still educating myself)

there is a part of me that wonders if talia’s trauma made dina build up the good parts of her in her memory. i think that would be tragic for her character, to break so fully that dina had to pretend talia was better to ease the pain of loss, so i’m not going to think too hard on it.

anyways that’s some of what i got goin’ on in my brain, thanks for the ask anon :)

[emilycollins00]

Muku + Azami headcanons

For lovely @skateboarding-poet!

It’s my first time writing a rareship but I had so much fun! These two are just so precious, I love them to pieces. Please enjoy! 💕

This ship is basically nonchalantic innocence meets bubbly dreamland and is gorgeous.

Azami might not get why Muku likes reading shojo so much, but while he can feel he’s going to hell just from hearing all the indecent things his boyfriend has read... he won’t judge too much overall.

Muku likes them and they are important to him, so now they are important to Azami too within certains limits of course

Others are not extended the same courtesy though, a.k.a Sakyo

Both of his personalities are pretty calm and chill so whenever they go on dates it’s all about walking around Veludo to shop for make-up and books, visiting animal cafes or just staying at the dorm in each other’s rooms.

Muku adores listening to Azami’s voice. He also discovers Azami tends to hum whenever he’s in a good mood so the summer troupe member will usually peak over the manga he’s reading, his heart skipping a beat at the soft sounds.

I also feel like Azami is not really one to expect praises out of nowhere, so when Muku starts compliment him -as the ball of sunshine he is with no filter whatsoever-.

“...Need something?”

“Oh,no! I was just thinking I really love your eyes Azami-kun, they are  beautiful!”

Azami can never anticipate those and becomes an absolute mess.

On a similar note I don’t think Azami is a looks person as much as he is a personality person, but he can’t deny just how pretty Muku is?? 

Everyone in Mankai can see his eyes softening while unconciously staring at the pink-haired helping Izumi with the dishes or laughing at Misumi’s antics and it’s so blatantly clear how in love he is.

Kisses are too much for Azami’s heart at the beginning of their relationship though, maybe a peck on the cheeks in private but he’s NOT a pervert okay??

The first time Muku ever reached out to held Azami’s hand, boy swore his heart stopped.

“Wha-! A-at least wait until we are married dammit!”

“R-right, I’m sorry! I just thought that- um, your hands always look so soft b-but of course my hands are sweaty and they-”

Before he finishes, a pinkie intertwines with his. Muku has never seen the boy’s ears in such a red color “Azami-kun?”

“Just don’t look at me, okay?. God this is so...”

After the initial shock, Muku squeezes back giggling. 

Later that night, both are still glancing at their own pinkies in their respective rooms and im soft about it.

Of course the whole yakuza family knows Muku by now wouldn’t expect less and you better believe that boy will be protected for life. The Sakisaka’s also adore Azami who brings them the best skin products choosen with the utmost care.

Muku asking opinion to Azuma, Yuki and Sakoda gift ideas for Azami for being always so attentive but he’s so lost.

CDs?? Make up? ah, but make up is expensive, and what if he already has them or worst what if he hates them or-

In the end he makes wool felt dolls of them with Omi’s help. 

“A-as I thought it’s really childish, right? I’m sorry I should have just-!”

“Are they for me”

“Uh?”

“The dolls” Azami takes the one that looks like Muku and glances at the young boy.

“Oh! um- yeah!”

The dolls are now sitting next to each other in his desk and NO ONE is allowed to touch them.

Anyway, Muku going starry-eyed whenever he sees Azami’s skills in action.

Also, whenever Azami gets injured or he just genuinely feels tired from rehearsals, Muku takes his hand unconsciously and places a kiss on it and Azami becomes a blushing mess right away.

But in general Muku knows just how reserved Azami is in the romantic aspect and won’t push him out of his comfort zone until he’s comfortable.

Still, Azami will be more likely to show PDA if he senses Muku needs a comforting presence, tiny kisses in his forehead are a must.

All in all it’s a quiet and slow love, but neither of them would change it for anything.

Extra!

Azami had never been good at showing his feelings, or at least that’s what he heard from others since he was young- deadpan face was it?- he didn’t remember much.

Reality though was quite the opposite. He always seemed to feel too much, respond too quick in waves of emotions. His determination and strong fuse if pressed wrongly often gave him troubles so he opted to lay low, or at least, that was before he entered Mankai.

And then- god, then there was Muku, who had amplified those feelings beyond what he thought it was possible.

Much to Azami’s own surprise due to their evident views on love and its approach, the pink-haired boy had become someone who was eager to learn everything about him, who accepted both the good and the bad. Someone who accepted his passion and pride.

“Azami-kun, you are amazing!”

Of course he had fallen in love.

                                                             .                                                           .

It was a fuzzy feeling whenever lights were out for the day and Azami still got messages from the young summer member, even if they had said their goodbyes half an hour ago before heading to their respectives rooms. It was the Muku who started them most of the time, usually to rant on him about the last story he was reading in a failed attempt to warm Azami up towards that hell of a perverted genre, but he would lie if he said he hadn’t gotten used to them.

His phone vibrates, a light signaling a new message once again.

What do you think, won’t you consider it? It’s one of the best I’ve read!

Azami rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face. His thumb scrolls down softly over the five continuous paragraphs -new record, he also noticed- that consisted the review of Muku’s manga before texting back.

Already told you. Just find me one where there’s no kissing, holding hands or any of that perverted stuff you and that shitty old man enjoy and then I’ll read it.

He could practically visualize the pout forming on Muku’s face as he read his response.

But that kind of shojo manga isn’t romantic at all!

He chuckles. Being in a relationship before marriage was something he had swore wouldn’t happen to him. But his feelings for Muku were real, and he wouldn’t changed them for the world.

Checking the time, he saw it was getting late- they shouldn’t cut more hours for their skin to rest. He was about to write back to notify Muku of his plans to go to sleep when he saw an audio. Turquoise eyes frowned as he tilted his head confused. Muku had never sent him audios before, mainly because they saw each other every day.

He laid back, resting his head on the pillow and clicked on it, vaguely curious.

There it was, that characteristic bubbly voice Azami had learned to distinguish, quieted down probably to not bother Kazunari. Just what-?

“Sweet dreams, Azami-kun”

He definitely jolted and quickly turned to Sakyo’s side, containing his breath until he noticed the annoying snores from his bed. All compose had left him in those three seconds the audio lasted, and Azami swears his chest did a backflip on its own. 

“What the hell...?”

Muku really wasn’t aware of the weigh of his own words.

He stares at the phone, his mind registering what had just happened. Then, as if in a trance, he’s barely aware of his actions before his finger presses the audio again- just one more time.

“Sweet dreams, Azami-kun”

One more time.

“Sweet dreams, Azami-kun”

One more time.

“Sweet dreams-”

One more time.

He could feel the sound of his smile over the phone. The way he drew out his name, so full of affection. His tone was warm and light, and how was he supposed to sleep now, Azami didn’t know.

Groaning, the autumn member covers his face with the back of his hand. Shit, he’s so embarrassed he can feel the heat growing on his cheeks and ears.

He rolls on the bed, taking a quick glance at the few photos of Mankai Omi gave him once to decorate the empty wall. A special warmth showers Azami when he makes contact with those purple eyes, always gentle. They looked back at him with a softness he had rarely encountered before and a smile that made his heart once again leap on his chest.

Oh, he was so done.

“He’s gonna kill me…he’s gonna fuckin’ kill me…”

And yet, he played it once again.

__________________________________________________________

Wishing everyone a wonderful day!  💕

[a-lonely-tatertot]

Finding Home

First / Wattpad / Ao3

A/N: Second to last chapter boiiissss :DD! once again betaed by the amazing @bookwyrminspiration! also @cadence-talle helped with editing after having to deal with me yell way to much about it!

words: 4731

tw: n/a if you do find any please let me know

The sun had set again, in a brilliant display of colors lighting up the sky. Sophie wondered what it would be like to be the sun; the center of everything, endlessly spinning. It was probably dizzying. 

She chuckled at the thought before turning back to her girls.

That was right, her girls. Her Linh and Amy. Linh made her feel like the sun sometimes, all dizzy inside and out, not quite knowing what way to go. Not knowing what was right, only what her instincts told her (even if they were wrong).

Linh held her hand as they walked, finding their way down to the van, old and worn down, but it still held up with only mild complaints. 

"We need more time," Fitz had groaned at the table that morning, Sophie responding with a hum of agreement. The twins weren't back to themselves yet and Sophie couldn't imagine going back to school and pretending that her best friend wasn't living with her pseudo-mom (was she even allowed to call Mari that?). Amy had perked up at Fitz's words, a mischievous smile on her face. 

"Sophie," she started. "Do you remember that cabin Mom and Dad used to take us to?"

Sophie did. All too clearly if she could say. It was a fairly large thing, they went on summer breaks, and whenever they could. Countless memories of laughing and running around as her parents haphazardly yelled at them to not break anything (they tried, they really did—it wasn't Sophie's fault that the vase just had to be right there). "I do," Sophie said hesitantly. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing!" Amy yelled way too conspicuously. "It’s just that it’s super cheap right now, and-" she trailed off. 

Sophie knew for a fact that it definitely wasn't cheap; the place was huge and everyone would be jumping to get at it. But, she hadn't seen her sister this nervous in forever, and it would be nice to see the place again, she had reasoned with herself. 

So, she agreed because god dammit her sister deserved something good. That was how they ended up standing next to the van, giving last minute hugs, and trading promises to see each other soon.

-

She was not panicking. There was no way that she was possibly panicking. Sophie "The Moonlark" fuckin’ Foster did not panic about something as simple as packing for a trip.

Except for the fact that she very much was. And it was very much not okay. 

"AMY!" she yelled, half stuck in her very small closet, as she stood on her tippy toes trying to reach the duffle bag stuffed in the very back. Why had she put it so far up? How had she put it so far up?

"AMY!" she called again. Where the hell was her sister? 

"WHAT!" Amy finally yelled back. 

"GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!" 

A few complaints and grumbles later Amy was standing at her side. "What do you want? I have to pack still," Amy said.

"That’s exactly what I want," Sophie bit back. Amy raised her eyebrow and Sophie groaned. "I mean, what am I even supposed to pack?"

"Clothes?"

"No shit. But like what else."

"Sophie what the fuck how long has it been since you went somewhere?"

"We went to Mari's literally last week!"

"So why don't you know how to pack?"

"Cause that was for like two days! This is two weeks!" Sophie yelled, desperately throwing her hands up in distress. 

Amy muttered something along the lines of "You are helpless," under her breath before grabbing the duffle out of Sophie's hands. "Come on, Soybean. We got shit to do."

"You know, saying my childhood nickname and a curse in the same sentence is really jarring." Amy huffed a laugh before tearing through Sophie's poor closet.

-

The van felt too large and too small all at the same time. Their bags were thrown haphazardly in the back, along with an outrageous amount of snacks. But even with everything there was still room. The thing that made it feel small was the silence. Amy's silence, to be more specific. The worst part was Sophie knew exactly what it was about.

Music drifted through the car, some random song about love feeling like a movie, and it made Sophie want to hit the radio with a hammer. Unfortunately, Amy would murder her if she even made a scratch on the poor van that was already falling apart. So, in a desperate attempt to ignore her relationship problems she changed the station. In the corner of her eye she could see Amy shake her head.

Sophie didn't ask for this, okay? So, it meant that she didn't have to deal with it if it was too much, right? 

She knew she was wrong. Watching the memories, listening in, thinking of the girl she loved as a threat because that’s what she was trained to do! The war was over but its scars were still there. 

She didn't need Amy's eye rolls, or her head shakes of disapproval, she didn't need Fitz's butting in. She didn't need it, okay! She knew. But dear God it hurt.

It hurt when Linh had kissed her that morning. It hurt when she didn't quite know what to do, if she was moving her mouth right, or if Linh could just see straight through her. Every mistake, every broken thought. Every stupid, stupid decision.

And then the question had to come out of Amy's mouth.

That stupid stupid question she had asked a million times over.

"Why do you keep doing it?"

She wanted to cry. Cry until her eyes were dry and her throat hurt and her insides cracked. Because that's what she was, wasn't she? Cracked. Shattered. Broken. Sophie didn't know why she lied. Why she went into the girl who she swore she loved, business. Why couldn't she just stop? Why not?

"I don't know," she said truthfully. Her voice was roughed and scratchy and wrong. 

Amy sighed, "You know I love you. But you've got to tell her. Sooner or later, it’s just gonna tear you to shreds. And we both know you elves don’t do good with guilt."

"No, we don't," Sophie chucked bitterly. 

They settled into uneasy silence after that. For once though, Sophie found herself agreeing with Amy. She needed to tell Linh. They were a ticking time bomb, only good for broken hearts and massive collateral damage.

-

The cabin was exactly how she remembered it. Old wood, old beams, old memories. Glass windows that covered the towering walls, trees that went as far as the eye could see. It was cozy, and Sophie felt small again. Like a little child waiting for her parents to come in carrying their suitcases as she jumped around yelling with all the energy in the world.

It felt like home, welcoming her back with open arms. And she couldn't be happier. 

Well, until Linh had to walk and reality came crashing down. 

And it didn't help that Linh looked good. She wasn't even wearing anything special, a cardigan over a crop top, some worn jeans and nice boots. Her hair had two short braids going around her head like a circlet and connecting in the back like a crown. Sophie hoped she could just die on the spot.

But she couldn't, because Amy was showing her upstairs to put their bags away in their old room (She and Linh weren't rooming together because Amy stated that she didn't want anything gross to happen. She was lying, and Sophie would be eternally grateful for that). 

Sighing, she turned to go up the stairs, finally dragging her gaze away from Linh to haul the bags to their rightful spots. 

After the bags were thrown lazily on the bed Sophie resisted the urge to unpack them just so that she could put it off for longer. So she made her way down the stairs, quietly asked Linh if she would meet her on the porch, and opened the door with a heavy sigh.

The lights were low—in any other circumstance it should have been romantic. Well, it was romantic; to the blissfully unaware Linh. To Sophie it was ironic. 

She was cold, the air chilling her and it took everything in her to not wrap her arms around Linh's waist and bury her head into the crook of Linh's neck. Not right before spilling her guts. She promised Amy. Even if Linh hated her after, she had to do this. 

"I’m sorry." Okay, not a strong start, but still a start.

Linh tilted her head towards her, "Why?"

Her hands moved wildly in front of her, "I- everything."

"Love, you've gotta explain," Linh said, giving Sophie those stupid eyes that seemed to see right through her. 

Sophie sighed, she couldn't push this off any longer. The words fell out of her mouth like a waterfall, her hands following in stumbling movements. Tumbling out, overlapping each other, one not quite getting out fast enough before the next started. She squeezed her eyes shut as if she could block out the world and forget about what she had done, what she was saying, the look on Linh's face.

Oh god that look. 

Sophie didn't think she would ever forget it. 

When the words stopped, and her hands stilled and the world seemed to stop with them. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her shoulders hunch involuntarily, folding in on herself. Part of her wished this was a fight she could win,the match ending with one of them on top and a blade to someone’s throat- because that Sophie knew. Not these emotions that she was taught to shove in a box. Emotions got in the way. They affected decisions. Honestly, Sophie thought she was free of that, being easily swayed like a tree in the wind by her own heart. 

But fear still controlled her.

It made her do things she regretted. Things she hated herself for. 

An iron grip that she couldn't escape.

The worst part about the entire situation was that Linh was silent. If there was one thing Sophie knew, it was that she was shit at reading body language. And seeing that that was the only thing she currently had to gauge Linh's reaction, Sophie was at a loss.

"What the fuck," Linh finally said, staring at the wood like she hoped it would help her. 

Sophie wished it would too. "I’m sorry," she whispered.

"Let me get this straight," Linh sighed. "You watched my memories without my permission, listened in on conversations that I had. And when Amy tried to tell you not to, you didn't listen."

Sophie gulped, "Yup."

"I'm sorry."

It took at least a minute for the words to process. Linh- why was Linh sorry? Sophie was sure the confusion was clear on her face because Linh smiled sadly before speaking again.

"I never meant to lie to you. About coming here when I said that I had been at that road house the entire time. I wanted to tell you I just- I didn't want to think about it, how I pushed everyone away. And when I saw you I saw a fresh start, someone I could be someone else with and I wanted that. So I pretended I was fine. I’m sorry that you had to find out on your own."

Sophie chuckled dryly, “God, we’re both so fucked up.”

Linh laughed quietly. “Do you think,” she said, “that if we didn’t go through everything we did, if you stayed and I didn’t push you away, would we have worked?”

Sophie didn’t like to think about what could’ve happened, a side effect of losing so many friends.She remembered a time that with one word she would burn down the world for Linh. “I think we were doomed to fail,” Sophie said sadly. Because in the end, she loved the idea of Linh and not the girl herself.

Linh only nodded and they both ignored the tears in their eyes. Just walk away, she told herself. it’s time to go now, just walk away.

And Sophie tried, tried to peel herself off that porch, but no matter how hard she pulled she was stuck. Staring at the girl she thought she loved, tears blurring her vision, her head spinning like she was the sun. 

Sophie just wanted to hold Linh because even if she didn’t love her like she thought she did, she still loved her in some way.

Linh’s head turned, her normally bright eyes that could light up the world were dull. There was no light behind them, and Sophie was haunted by the fact that it was eerily similar to the face she wore in the memory of bruised hands Sophie had watched.

In that moment Sophie wanted to take it all back. Her hands itched to hold Linh, to tell her that she didn't do anything wrong, to comfort her. But Sophie had lost that, lost the privilege to hold her. The realization hit her then (though she might have always known) that she didn't love this girl in the beginning. But spending nights together, realizing who Linh was again, she believed she loved her like she had. It hurt a bit, but she’d known for a while that she had fallen again, but she couldn't take back what she did and that had to be okay. 

They stood there a while longer, tears staining both their cheeks, knowing eventually the moment would have to end. It was all gonna be over. It felt like leaving all over again and this time Sophie didn't have the strength to walk away—but Linh did. She left, pulling her hands away from the railing, leaving Sophie to stand in the slowly falling snow alone (she didn't know when it had started, or when the tears in her eyes were colder than normal, tasting like ice on her tongue). 

Eventually, the cold forced her back inside. She found Amy waiting on the couch in the 'Great Hall' (a.k.a. Living Room 2 out of three). There was a book in her hand that dropped as soon as Sophie wandered pitifully into her sister's line of sight.

"Hey," Amy whispered as Sophie put her head in her lap.

"Hi," Sophie responded.

"Hello?" Fitz spoke from the doorway, voice startling both of them.

Sophie still didn't move, barely glancing back at him to see his eyebrow raised. 

"Is she good?" Fitz asked.

"They broke up," Amy supplied when Sophie didn't give an answer.

"That explains why Tam's lookin’ like he's gonna commit murder." Sophie groaned in response, only burying her head further from view and into the blanket. She heard Fitz leave, expecting him to leave her with Amy in her misery only for his footsteps to come back. "Oh yes gimme," Amy said above her, hand leaving Sophie's hair. 

"Nope, it’s for the depressed dumbass." Sophie raised her head to see Fitz grinning. The next thing she knew she was lifted off of the couch, trying to hold onto something, only for Fitz to slip under her and throw her over him and Amy. "There you go, you cat," Fitz laughed and handed her a tub of ice cream. 

At some point the tub of ice cream would become empty, and at some point reality would come crashing down again and she would cry. In the arms of her sister and her best friend. At some point she would fall asleep to be woken up by a knock on the door. But right then she would grin, with Amy's hand in her hair and Fitz trying to decide what movie they should watch. Right then she would feel loved.

-

Someone was banging on the front door and Sophie was about two seconds from committing murder. It wasn't the knocks that had woken her up--no, it was that they meant Fitz was getting up, which meant he had to let go of her, which made her follow him around like a lost puppy because dammit he gave good cuddles.

Sophie honestly didn't give a shit about who was at the door, just waiting for Fitz to open it so that they could go back to the couch and Moana, which was currently paused. What she did not expect was Marella, Keefe, and Dex to be standing outside the door with suitcases and matching grins.

Sophie was too tired for this.

The grins faded as soon as Fitz and Keefe locked eyes and the tension in the room rose. 

"You're- you're here-" Fitz said, his face painted with surprise. 

"I brought friends," Keefe responded. 

"Hello," Marella and Dex greeted.

"Hi," Sophie responded from behind Fitz, who was still locked in a staring contest with Keefe.

Finally, Keefe's eyes moved from Fitz and he grinned again when he saw her, "To be honest I'm not surprised that you and Biana set this up. Need a family reunion after a few years?"

"Biana?" Fitz and Sophie asked in unison. Neither of them had seen her since they had left. It made some part of Sophie queasy to think that Biana was left alone to deal with the council. 

"Yeah? She sent us invites and plane tickets?" Marella spoke up, her eyebrows  knitted together. 

"I had no idea about those," Sophie said. "I haven't heard from Biana since I left. For all I know she's back in the Lost Cities."

"Actually-" a voice with a thick accent came from behind her. For a moment Sophie thought it was Fitz until a flash of light and long brown hair came into view on her left. "Hi," Biana grinned.

Five minutes later the Great Hall was packed with Sophie's friends who she thought she wouldn't see for at least another eight years. But here they were; Marella, Dex and Keefe crammed on a couch, Linh avoiding her eyes as she and Tam talked in hushed tones, Fitz anxiously opening and closing his hands next to her, and Amy and Biana talking in the middle of the room in harsh whispers.

Honestly? Sophie was done with the avoidance of the elephant in the room. "Are you guys going to explain what the hell is going on or?" Sophie finally asked, her exasperation clear. 

"WE'RE HERE!" came from the doorway, a clear answer to Sophie's question. Dex's face paled at the voice, clearly recognizing its owner.

"Biana, Amy," Dex started, staring at the girls in the center of the room with a look of pure terror on his face. "Why, in the Ancients names, are they here?" 

"Sup, bitch," Bex walked through the door, her lips pulled into a smug grin. 

Dex's head fell into his hands with a groan that only got longer when his other two siblings joined them. The triplets weren't all that surprising. Unexpected, until you took into the account that this was probably some elaborate prank that would most definitely have the triplets involved. 

The surprise, though, was the mop of curly brown hair and almost-purple eyes that walked in after them with a fond look of exasperation. Stina Heks was not someone who Sophie thought would be involved in this.

Tam shared her look of confusion, "Will somebody please tell us what the fuck is going on?"

That got a laugh out of the triplets and Amy, while Biana smiled and Stina looked bored. That wasn't much of a surprise, the bored face of Stina was one Sophie knew well (mostly from having to stare at it for hours during Valiant meetings, trying desperately for her to understand that she didn't have a choice to fight like she did). If anything, it was comforting to know she hadn't changed much.

"I don’t even know where to start," Biana said, and Amy laughed awkwardly.

"The beginning," Sophie deadpanned just wishing this would be over so that she could wallow in self pity in peace.

"Well..." Biana trailed off.

"This was a project to get your dumbasses together," Bex started.

Dex looked moderately distressed as he whispered, "Language", which only got an eye roll in response.

"We started it after you three left," Lex said pointing towards Marella, Dex and Keefe, who looked only mildly uncomfortable.

“Because all of you thought that the only way of coping was running away,” Rex finished. The room erupted in a cacophony of half finished excuses before Biana raised her hand, a pointed look on her face. 

“And that was fine! For a while,” she started. “I kept tabs on you to make sure y’all didn’t do anything stupid, until I realized what the heck was going on with Linh-“ 

“Oh great,” Linh growled every head swivling to her in surprise, “another person who doesn’t know how to respect some fucking privacy!” Linh had stood as she spose, anger clear on her face. A sharp pang of guilt found itself stabbing at Sophie’s heart.

“Please, I just wanted to look out for you-“

“Oh shut up. You were doing it so you could feel good about yourself picking up some goddamn charity cases!” With almost every word Linh took a step forward, getting into Biana’s space with a snarl. “Well guess what. I was doing fine until you fucked with my life.”

“Linh-“ Tam called after her as she stormed out of the room. With a sigh he looked back at all the stunned faces; most of them had never seen Linh angry. “I’m sorry, she’s just had a bad day. I’ll go talk to her,” he said before following her out. 

“Christ,” Marella murmured, watching the door. 

The feeling of guilt only grew bigger at that knowing that she was the reason for the outburst. That her stupid fucking instincts could’ve-

“Soph,” Fitz whispered. “Sophie, look at me.” 

She really really didn’t want to. But there was a soft urgency in his voice that made her look. “It’s not your fault, you came clean. How Linh deals with that is entirely up to her, okay?”

Sophie wanted to say that she shouldn't have done anything in the first place but stopped herself. She couldn't go down that rabbit hole, not then not ever. 

Biana sighed, and her shoulders seemed to drop before she started again. "I'm sorry for watching you guys, I tried to stay out of most things just making sure y’all didn't, like, go to jail or fuck up a government or something," she said slowly. 

"Bi," Fitz said, older brother instincts clearly kicking in, "it's okay. We tried to drop off the face of the earth-- we didn't exactly expect you to walk away unaffected."

Murmurs of agreement rang out through the room and slowly Biana’s hunched form seeped away to her normal stance. 

Amy picked up the story. “We realized that you guys weren’t getting better and that frankly the Lost Cities were getting worse.” 

“We might’ve not done it in the best way,” Lex said. “But you guys needed each other. All of you were hiding under facades with a false belief  that you were getting better and it was feeding into the idea to run away. So all we did was point you guys to each other, a little nudge to the right spot.” 

“Oh,” Fitz said next to Sophie as realization dawned on both of them.

“OH MY GOD I WAS RIGHT!” Sophie said as soon as it all made sense. It was all planned! She wasn’t going crazy with paranoia (okay, maybe she was going slightly crazy, but that wasn’t the point)! 

All she got was raised eyebrows and a snort from Amy as a response to her outburst. 

“A little nudge?” Keefe asked. “You literally sent us a weird ass note with plane tickets and money so that we could be here—not very subtle of you.”

“Look, we were working off of what we had-“ Rex spoke, trying to hold in a laugh.

“Very cryptic, good job guys,” Marella laughed.

“Wait okay,” Sophie started. “Was Tam and Fitz ending up at Mari’s planned?”

Bex laughed and Amy grinned, “Nope! That woman just attracts strays somehow.”

Sophie and Fitz shared a knowing smile, remembering how she took them in with no hesitation. 

“One last question: why are you here?” Dex asked, gesturing to Stina.

“I’m moral support,” the girl answered with a shrug, and no one questioned it.

“Keefe- Keefe you can’t fall asleep. It’s only four pm,” Marella said suddenly, shaking the boy's shoulder slightly. 

“But I’m so fucking tired,” Keefe whined.

“Jet lag my beloathed,” Fitz chuckled, and Sophie felt it rumble through his body. 

“Okay sleepy heads,” Biana smiled, because no matter how hard Dex and Marella tried to pretend they weren’t tired their eyes were clearly dropping. "Go to bed, grab a room upstairs that isn't taken." 

"Dinner's at six!" Fitz called out after them and Sophie vaguely wondered if he would make one of Mari's recipes. 

Fitz did actually end up making one of Mari's recipes, a simple chicken and waffles with hashbrowns and bacon. An odd thing to have for dinner, but when it tasted heavenly who was gonna complain?  The smell carried through the house, dragging the occupants to the kitchen with growling stomachs.

Honestly, the sight was delicious and Sophie wanted nothing more than to just smack her face into it like an animal. It looked really good, okay? It was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

It was not, Sophie found out as she basically devoured a chicken strip in one bite, only to find the others looking at her in bewilderment (except for Linh, who was ignoring her existence).

"Jeez, it’s like you have never eaten before," Biana laughed.

Sophie considered throwing a chicken strip at her but held back for the sake of keeping her food to herself.

Meaningless conversation started after that. A million and one questions about where they all ended up, how they got there, all that. It was all fine for a while, Sophie mostly tuning out conversations and trying oh so desperately to keep her eyes off of Linh (she was only moderately failing). It all started to go downhill when some not so subtle giggles erupted from what Sophie had dubbed as the childrens’ end of the table.

The next thing Sophie knew, Keefe was getting smacked in the face with a waffle.

Predictably, chaos broke out after the declaration of war. Sophie chucked a piece of chicken at who she thought was Biana only to be hit in the face with a handful of hashbrowns. Dex, Marella, and Keefe seemed to be teaming up against the triplets—who were absolutely wild. And then Fitz and Biana were on the other side of the table pelting her and Amy with whatever they could get their hands on, Linh was helping the triplets. Tam and Stina stood off to the side, presumably judging them but Sophie didn’t care because she knew that they didn’t hate them until—

A loud smack rang out.

Silence covered the room as everyone’s heads turned to Tam,who had a waffle slowly dripping down his face. In that moment, Keefe looked scared shitless. Slowly, Tam took the waffle off his face, grabbed the tray full of bacon and without hesitation launched it at Keefe with deadly accuracy. Marella was screaming “man down,” the triplets and Amy were cackling, Linh was grinning (Sophie forced herself not to look), and Sophie had never felt more content.

The fight came to an end as everyone’s exhaustion started to show. Giggling like madmen, the large group stumbled their way up the stairs to their respective rooms. Sophie, too tired to think and walking on autopilot, started to follow Linh like a lost puppy to their room. It was their room, right? 

A hand on her arm stopped her. 

The feeling of watching Linh leave, watching Linh yell, saying that she didn't think they would've ever worked, came crashing down on her. Knocking the wind out of her, making her choke. 

With a sad smile Amy dragged her back to their room, handing her pjs, getting her to the bathroom and holding her as she cried. They ended up on the stupidly large bed, Amy running a comforting hand through Sophie's too-long hair, as the moon rose, and the stars watched.

[iridescentjin]

Dearly Beloved

Summary: Your friend from high school, Taehyung, helps you out when you need a wedding date.

Genre: SMUT and a little bit of fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, recreational alcohol use, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz use protection irl), spanking, some biting, dom!Taehyung, brat!reader

a/n: sorry Triv. sorry mom. If digital headstones are a thing by the time I die, please put this gif on mine. I listened to “Earned It” by The Weeknd the whole time I wrote all the nasty stuff.

Word Count: 6473

Your best friend is sweet and kind. She is the most generous person that you’ve ever met, and she can make you laugh harder than anyone on this planet. She has cradled you in her arms as you cried over boys, and, when your dad nearly died of cancer, she was there with you in the hospital every day, coffee in hand, ready to listen or just sit with you.

You take a deep breath through your nose and remind yourself of all of this. You love her more than pretty much anyone on this planet, but in this moment you have never wanted to slap her so much in the whole time you’ve known her.

She has been planning and preparing for her wedding for over a year, and the date is only two weeks away. The extravagance of it isn’t really your style, but she’s one of those people that has been dreaming of her wedding since she was a little girl. She has a vision. 

At this present moment, you are surrounded by small cuts of lumber, empty vases, fake greenery, and tea lights. Your job today is to assemble the centerpieces. You sit in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded on all sides by your craft supplies. She is standing just outside your ring of accoutrements, crying and yelling. You aren’t totally sure what she’s yelling about. Seating arrangements? Maybe someone canceled? Honestly, at this point it’s unintelligible, so you decide it’s best to just let her carry on.

“And you!” you hear, clear as day.

You look up from your project and see her finger pointing toward wear you sit on the carpet. You look behind you, half expecting someone else to be there; you’ve done nothing but help. You turn back to her and barely raise a finger to point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in bewilderment. You mouth, “me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would it be? God.” You know she’s just stressed, so you take a deep breath and clench your fists around the fake greenery in your hands. “When we first started planning, you said you were gonna have a date, and I’m sorry things didn’t work with Yoongi, I really am, but now the seating arrangement is fucked and the whole entrance of the wedding party is fucked. It’s fucked, y/n. Could you just ask Yoongi to go with you?”

“Just ask Yoongi?” you spit back, “You want me to ask the man who broke my heart? Tore it into a million little pieces, who is, mind you, already going to be at the wedding because he’s friends with your future husband, to be my date? So...what? So I can get my hopes up again when he’s nice to me, because of course he will be, and get my heart smashed again? Oh but your seating arrangement will be good, so I should just suck it up. Right. Sure.”

You’re standing now, having spilled tea lights all over the floor with the sudden movement. You are breathing heavily, fists clenched at your side, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Things didn’t work out when you had told your workaholic boyfriend, Yoongi, that you wanted to get more serious, maybe move in together and consider marriage. You don’t think he meant to laugh at you, but he did laugh when you brought it up. He said that it was clear the two of you wanted different things, and he ended it with you. You clearly aren’t over him yet, and she knew that.

Your friends face softens for a moment. You can see the reality of what she said smoothing her features.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so stressed…” she trails off.

“Look, you want me to get a date? I’ll get a fuckin’ date. But I will not be caught dead on Min Yoongi’s arm.” You turn on your heel and let yourself out of her house, slamming the door behind you.

When all the rage fades, you realize what you’ve said that you’re going to do. You also realize that you left all centerpieces unassembled in the middle of the floor. You call your best friends mom and ask her to go over and finish them.

“I am already on my way over there, sweetie. But did I hear right that you are going to get a date for the wedding? Where?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

You know she isn’t trying to be hurtful but c’mon, I know guys! You think to yourself. I know so many guys. I know...Yoongi for one, and Hobi. Granted Hobi is marrying my best friend in two weeks. I know….oh! Jungkook! Jungkook will totally go with me!

“I know guys!” you respond to her with excitement in your voice. “I actually have to call the guy that I’m asking right now though, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again for doing the centerpieces.”

As you hang up, you quickly scroll through the names on your phone until you land on Jeon Jungkook. You tap out the message on your screen quickly and send it away.

You: Hey JK! I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to a wedding in two weeks. It’s out of town, so hotel. All expenses paid. Huh?

You put your phone down feeling optimistic. Jungkook loves to dance, and he’s a fun guy. Not only does he seem like a living human male who will go with you, you actually don’t hate the idea of going together with him. The excitement doesn’t last long.

Jeon Jungkook: y/n! Hey! I wish I could, but I’ll be back home in Busan. I’m so sorry!

You: No prob, buddy. I’ll go with Yoongi 😬

Jeon Jungkook: No! I won’t let you do that! He broke your heart. Let me give you hyung’s number. You remember Tae? From high school? He’s cool, and he’s free (he just asked me to make plans that weekend). Hit him up.

He sends you the contact. Kim Taehyung. You stare at the number for a long time before you type up a text, and you stare at the text for even longer before you send it.

You: Hi Taehyung, this is y/n. JK gave me your number, and he said you might be free in two weeks to be my date to a wedding. Nothing weird or anything! I just can’t go alone, and if I don’t bring a date, my friend is going to make me go with my ex. It’s a long story. Anyway, it is out of town, but your hotel and all your food and stuff would be paid for. Just let me know.

You exhale a deep breath after you hit send. You hope it doesn’t sound too weird or desperate or anything even though you are definitely both weird and desperate. 

Kim Taehyung: sure! I’m always down for an adventure.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which is short-lived when you realize you don’t know anything about Taehyung anymore. You ran in the same circle in high school, connected by your mutual closeness to Jungkook. You text him back asking him to meet you for coffee, so you can go over the plan. The two of you decide to meet that afternoon, and the anxiety in your chest begins to loosen just a tiny bit. 

….

When you get to the coffee shop, you find a spot by the window in the big squashy chairs. You order yourself a latte and play on your phone, waiting for Taehyung. You hear someone softly clear their throat, and your eyes scan the figure in front you. You don’t mean to give him the up-and-down, you really don’t. But the man standing in front of you is not the same Taehyung you remember. You remember a scrawny boy with too much eyeliner (yikes) trying to act like a man while still dealing with all his teenage emotions.

Before you stands, perhaps, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He is tall, taller than he was when you last saw him, and he is fuller too. He is no longer gangly and awkward. He has broad shoulders, firm pecs, and toned arms that you can see straining against the fabric of his tight black shirt. His black hair is long and messy, and tendrils hang down into his eyes. He has a smile on his face when your eyes finally meet his.

“Hi, y/n! It’s been so long!” he exclaims as he reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

You are shocked by the sudden touch and hesitate to put your arms around him. Even while he holds you for a moment with your arms at your sides, you feel comforted and safe. He smells like lavender and chamomile mixed with something else - maybe just his own skin.

When he lets you go, he looks a little embarrassed and backs up into his chair across from yours.

The two of you catch up about what you’ve been up to since high school: college, careers, failed relationships. You tell him all about what happened with Yoongi, but you don’t mention that you’re not over it yet. He tells you that his ex-girlfriend cheated in a one night stand with a girl at a club, and he had been pretty broken up about it.

You set your plans for leaving to get to the wedding early together. You have to be there on Thursday night because the bachelorette party was Friday and the wedding was on Sunday. He agrees, and you say goodbye to one another, this time without the hug. 

****

Thursday afternoon you are packing your bags making sure that you have everything when your phone rings. It’s your best friend, so you take a deep breath before you answer it, trying to stay as calm as possible since she is a total mess. “Good morning, my beautiful best friend and soon-to-be bride,” you say in a syrupy tone that she knows is facetious.

“I have bad news,” she huffs and without pausing she continues, “we booked the hotel when you and Yoongi were still together. So we only booked one room for you and Yoongi. So now Yoongi doesn’t have a room, and your date...Tae or whatever...doesn’t have a room either. And I know that I’m being insensitive right now, but you and Yoongi breaking up is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

She’s definitely crying and spiraling. “I mean...it wasn’t great for me either,” you attempt to joke, but she just sobs harder.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Yoongi will just stay with Hobi until Sunday, then on Sunday, you and Hobi are going to stay together anyway, yeah? So that problem is solved. As for Tae...I’ll talk to him, okay? No big deal,” you console her, unsure what you’re going to say to Tae.

She lets out a long sigh, but her crying seems to be evening out. “You’re right. Okay.” You finish the phone call and send a text to Tae.

You: So...funny story...youandihavetoshareahotelroomnowsorryokaybye

You toss your phone aside and finish packing your bags. As you are loading up the car, Tae pulls up. He looks just as good as he did the other day, wearing a loose t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’s carrying a single leather duffle bag, and he has a huge smile on his face. He almost looks like he’s laughing.

The drive is only three hours, but it is long enough to be boring. You’re glad that you have company, and you and Tae crank up the radio singing along and laughing. You play car games together, and it is an overall good time.

When you get to the hotel, you are a little unsure of what to do or how to handle sharing a room with Tae. You slide the key in the door to the hotel room and exhale in relief when you see there are two beds in the room. You each take up your side and start to settle in.

When it’s time for you to get changed for bed, you awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom to change. Even though you normally just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, you put on a whole pajama get up because you aren’t sure how modest you should be with Tae.

When you come out, he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and gives you that warm, gentle smile again. How does he look so good just sitting on his bed playing on his phone?

“Hey, uh, so I usually just sleep in my underwear...but I can keep a shirt on if you want,” he says casually to you.

“Oh, uh, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable on my behalf, seeing how you’re doing me a favor,” you ramble out.

You wish you said no. As soon as it happens, you really wish you’d told him to keep on a shirt and a parka and snow pants and maybe also a ski mask. To say he is hot is the understatement of the century. His toned honey toned skin is smooth across his chest, taut over his muscles. His boxer briefs sit low on his hips, and your eyes follow the curve of his muscles from his stomach down past his waistline. 

You watch the muscles on his back flex as he climbs into bed. You lay your head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is happening? you think to yourself. You try to blink the images of his nearly naked body out of your head, but they are there even as you eventually fall asleep.

*********

All day Friday you help set up for the wedding. Tae comes by and helps for a while, and, when it’s time for the bachelorette party, he says he’s going to go find something to do in town. The girls all go out, drink, and celebrate your best friend. 

After the bachelorette party, you are feeling light and drunk and, for the first time in a while, you feel your shoulders relax. You say goodbye to the other girls in the lobby of the hotel and head to your room.

When you get there, there’s only one lamp on, and the room is empty besides your bags. You are painfully aware of the silky material of your dress against your skin, especially without a bra on. You feel so hyper-sensitive with the alcohol coursing through your veins. You skate your fingertips up your arms and across your collarbone. You feel yourself soaking your panties, and your nipples are hard against the silky material.

Your head isn’t totally clear, and you slide the straps of your dress off and let it pool on the floor around your feet. You stand in the middle of the floor in nothing but your panties and your heels for a moment, barely touching your skin on your neck and down your chest and belly.

You lie back on the bed, fuzzy head telling you to take care of it. You lick your fingers and take one of your nipples between your index finger and thumb. You feel your hips buck a little bit, feet, still in your heels, planting on the bed. With the way your feet are planted, your legs are open wide, and, if you weren’t wearing underwear, your pussy would be on full display. You bring your hand down to your panties. You run your fingers along the waistband before passing your hand over your covered folds, barely applying any pressure. You have decided to take it slow. You haven’t been with anyone since Yoongi, and you have been too busy to even consider masturbating. Now, you have the time, and you are soaking through your panties. 

You close your eyes, and you see the way that Tae’s shirt fits across his chest, the way the rolled up sleeves accentuated his biceps, the way that his sweatpants yesterday left nothing to the imagination. You see the way his bare chest is broad and smooth, the way his underwear sit on his hips, bulge prevalent. You imagine the way he smelled when he’d pressed you into his chest. You want to drown in his smell. 

You slide your hand into your underwear, drawing languid circles on your clit, sliding your finger through your arousal and back up to your clit. You feel like you are not in control of what your body is doing and small moans start to slip out of your mouth. You feel “Tae” come off your lips over and over.

“What?” you hear from near the door, but you think it might be coming from outside of the room and can’t process its proximity because the things you are doing are overwhelming you.

A whimper that turns into a yelp followed by “oh my god” comes from within the room, and your eyes snap open. Tae is standing at the end of the bed, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.

You scream and try to get up from the bed quickly, but you are drunk and wearing heels, and you lose your balance. Instead of getting away from him, you stumble toward him. He throws his arms out to catch you, steadying you as your mostly naked body presses against him. And you are mortified, but the scent of him makes your pussy clench. In that instance, you’re a little angry that you didn’t get to finish.

“Are you okay? How drunk are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just...we’re both in here. I didn’t know. That’s my bed, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there. Are you okay?” he rambles, trying not to look at you.

You pull away from him quickly covering your chest as you run over to the other side of the room to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. You throw the shirt over your head, and, as you try to put on the sweatpants, you realize you’re still wearing the goddamn heels. You throw them off as quickly as you can and pull the sweatpants on. When you look up from your panicked clothing debacle, Taehyung is looking anywhere but at you.

“Tae...I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m-I’m drunk, and I’m horny. I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

“Wait no…” Tae starts, but you are gone before he can even finish. You go to your best friend’s room, and she welcomes you in. When you tell her what happened, she laughs hard, pretty drunk herself. You agree to not talk about it any further.

*********

Besides avoiding Taehyung, the next day and half go by smoothly. You are busy setting up for the wedding. The hairstylist and makeup artist take care of you before the wedding, and your friend’s mom brings your dress and shoes to you. You haven’t had to go back to your room for anything, but you are dreading sitting next to Tae at the reception. The dread is briefly overshadowed by the love and pride that you have for your best friend and Hobi during the ceremony.

The ceremony goes off seamlessly, and you are so happy for your friends that you forget for a little while to be embarrassed. When it’s time for the reception, you realize that you have to enter with Tae for the processional. He meets you by the doors, looking pretty annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you, and he just offers you his elbow when it’s time for you to enter the banquet hall. You walk in holding his arm, faking a smile, and take your seats at the table, followed by the remaining bridesmaids with their dates.

Throughout dinner, Tae continues to ignore you. You think to yourself if anyone should be avoiding anyone, it’s me avoiding him, but you don’t say anything to him. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and you sit alone, pushing your food around your plate.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear from an all too familiar voice. You force yourself to look up into his eyes, and Yoongi is staring back down at your with a smirk on his face. You don’t have the words to respond, so you just stare at him for a moment.

A deep voice from behind you says, “yeah, actually it is,” and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me. His hand feels like it’s burning your skin, and you want to lean into it.

“Oh sorry, man. It didn’t seem like you guys were together,” Yoongi says, confused but still confident.

“Yeah, well, we are. Why don’t we go dance, y/n?” Tae hisses through his teeth.

“I’m kind of talking to Yoongi right now,” you say to him.

“Yeah, that’s all good, but I really like this song. So come dance with me,” he insists, pulling your wrist a little.

“Yeah...okay fine,” you mumble as you take your napkin out of your lap. Yoongi is looking at you dumbfounded, and you shrug and follow Tae to the dance floor. He pulls you in and presses his body fully against yours. Is this some kind of weird possessive shit?

“So you’re going to ignore me all night and then get pressed when Yoongi tries to talk to me?” you snap, annoyed.

“First of all, you left me alone in that hotel room for two days, so who’s really ignoring whom? Why can’t you, for once, just be a good girl and do what I say?”

You can’t deny that the expression “good girl” coming from his mouth does something to you, but you are already heated. “Oh, yes sir. I’ll be the goodest girl because you just dragged me over here and are being an ass, so I better be good for you. Fuck off,” you spit at him, rolling your eyes.

“Well, you told me how Yoongi broke your heart. And you weren’t gonna tell him to get lost, so I did you a favor. You should be thanking me,” he spits out.

“What’s your deal, Tae? It’s not like we’re actually dating or anything.”

You swear he growls in his chest a little bit, then he spins you before pulling you back into his body. “Well, maybe I want to be,” he mutters.

Before you have a chance to talk, the MC comes on and asks everyone to clear the floor for all the first dances, father dances, mother dances, second-cousin dances. It goes on for so long that you decide to return to the table, and Taehyung follows you. You sit down, fully prepared to demand an explanation from him when the photographer comes up to your table.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” she asks with a bright smile.

You can’t bring yourself to say no to her cheeriness, so you agree, doing your best to smile for the camera.

“You know what would be really cute?” the photographer starts, and you feel the dread building in your chest, “if you sat in his lap.”

Oh my gods, ugh. You are incredibly annoyed, but you know that this innocent woman doesn’t understand the very weird situation going on. So you, once again, reluctantly agree. You climb into Taehyung’s lap, and the energy immediately feels different. He clears his throat behind you and slides his arms around your waist. While the photographer tries to get a better angle (why is she taking so long!?), Taehyung starts to slide his hand down your thigh.

“I heard you,” he whispers to you, smile still stretched across his face. “I heard you say my name. You can’t act like you don’t want me. I heard you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. You said my name. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I had such a big crush on you in high school, but you were oblivious. Now, you see me. Now, you want me. I heard you.”

As the photographer walks away, you don’t try to get up. You just shift a little in his lap. With the movement you can feel, very clearly, as if there was hardly any fabric between you at all, the outline of his cock, half-hard against your ass.

“Are...are you not wearing underwear, Tae?” you ask, feeling flustered, face hot.

“I tell you I heard you say my name while you were touching yourself on my bed. And you ask if I’m wearing underwear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me,” he professes with a smirk.

You look around frantically to make sure no one heard him, but your head snaps back to look at him when you feel his fingers teasing the hem of your dress against your thigh. You can feel the movement causing a rush between your thighs, and you can’t focus on anything except the way his hand feels on your skin.

“Tae…” you whisper, trailing off.

“Say it, y/n. Say you want me.”

“We can’t do this here, Tae. There are so many people here,” you say looking around at all of your friends, who you would be mortified if they found Tae with his hand in your dress.

“If you say that you want me right now, I’ll take you upstairs, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” he whispers, letting his hot breath run over your ear.

Shit. Shit. Am I doing this? Fuck it.

“Tae, I want you...right now,” you practically moan.

With that, he’s up out of his seat, adjusting his pants. He ushers you out of the hall with his hand on the small of your back. You clamber into the elevator, and, when the door shuts, he is all over you. His mouth is on your ear and your neck, your collarbone and the curve of your shoulder, you chest and the upper swell of your breast. He’s kissing every exposed inch like he’s been poisoned and the only antidote is in your skin.

The elevator door opens on your floor, and the two of your practically run to your room. He slides the key card in and flings the door open. He kicks it closed behind you, and he takes off his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to look at you, lacing his fingers in the hair on the back of your head down to the nape of your neck. He’s big eyes are peering into yours, searching your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a deep rasp.

“Tae, you’ve already kissed my whole chest. Yes,” you say back with a bite to your tone. You can’t help but want to contradict him and push his buttons.

He smashes his lips into yours, a deep, hungry kiss. All of his annoyance and frustration seems to come out with his kiss too. He nips your bottom lip and pulls it a bit before letting it going. He goes right back to you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I don’t know,” you tease. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“How is ‘babygirl?’ Is that okay with you?” he asks looking into your eyes again.

“Babygirl is fine,” you reply, “but I’m not your good girl.”

He growls at you from his chest, scrunching his nose. You feel the tension in your stomach building and you know that your panties are useless at this point they are so soaked. He leans into you, reaching around your back, unzipping your dress. You shimmy it off your body, letting it pool on the floor around your feet, just like you had down two days before.

You runs his fingertips across your skin from your collarbones over your breasts, gently catching your nipples, down your stomach, across the waistband of your underwear. He bends his knees, setting one on the floor, and he keeps tracing his fingers down your thighs, over your knees, and around your ankles. He presses his mouth to your hip and your thigh while he caresses the inside of your legs up to your thigh and back down to your ankle. Then he pulls the strap off both of your ankles from your shoes and pulls them off your feet. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch from Tae’s fingers, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing with every move he makes. 

While still on his knee, Tae looks up at you through his lashes. He asks in a commanding tone, “Babygirl, if you need me to stop you just say red, okay?” And you nod.

“Now, are you going to be good for me while I lick your pussy?”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest. “I don’t want to be good,” you sass, voice hoarse already.

His teeth bite down on the skin of the inside of your thigh. “Are you talking back to me, babygirl?”

You are too stunned to come up with anything clever, so you just nod.

He bites down again on your other thigh. “Use your words,” he commands.

You are so wet and so overwhelmed. He is too much for you already. “Yes, I was talking back to you,” you pant out.

He stands up from between your thighs, and you feel remiss that you let your brattiness get in the way of having him licking you. He whispers, “you’re being a bad girl.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, unable to stop yourself. His hand comes up to your chin and holds your head so you have to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” he demands. “You better start behaving, you little monster.”

For some reason, him calling you a little monster does something to you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on. “I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”

You lean to kiss him, and he catches your lips in another bruising kiss.

“Lie down on the bed and take your underwear off,” he says as he stands back from you, palming himself through his pants, seeking some relief. 

Once you’re in position, he pushes your legs up, so your knees are bent. You are in the same position that you were just two days ago when he walked in on you. He whispers so pretty, then kisses gently on your clit and down your folds. He barely slides his tongue into your pussy, then drags it all the way up you, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

“So wet for me, babygirl.”

He takes his tongue and draws slow, steady circles on your clit while he brings his hand to your entrance and slides too fingers in. He immediately pushes them all the way in without letting you adjust, then he curls them upward. His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

You groan beneath him. He feels like he knows exactly what your body wants and needs. He is intuitive to your body, and your head is swimming. Your skin is burning, and your hips start to buck, even as he uses one hand to try to still you.

“Tae, I’m going to cum,” you gasp.

“No, you aren’t,” he says against your clit, “you’ll cum when I tell you to cum. And do you know why?”

You shake your head, back arching up off the mattress.

“This pussy is mine. Your orgasms belong to me, understood?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please, Tae…”

“Say it,” he commands for the second time tonight.

You moan as he continues his unforgiving ministrations with his fingers and his tongue. “Fine. This pussy is yours. My orgasms belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispers and pulls his fingers out of you and pulls his mouth away.

“No, no,” you whine at the lost of contact

“You better start being good, babygirl. You better start showing me that you deserve to cum.”

You really don’t mean to say it, but your bratty side comes out again. You look him in the eye and defiantly say, “Make me,” crossing your arms over your chest.

He leans over your body and picks you up, flipping you over easily. He commands you to get on your hands and knees.

“I’m going to punish you, babygirl. Do you remember the word to say if it’s too much?”

“I remember, yes.” You crawl onto your hands and knees and push your ass toward him, taunting him. You have your legs spread, and with the way you have put your head down on the mattress, your pussy is on full display for him. He can see how slick you are for him and because of him. You can feel how swollen your clit is, and all you want is for him to touch you again. Instead, he brings his hand down with a smack on your ass. You hiss from the sting, but you feel yourself growing wetter somehow. You moan and push your ass further back toward him. He lands four more spanks on the same cheek, and it stings as he rubs his hand over the spot. He presses his lips to the tender spot, and then he presses his lips against your wet pussy before pulling away. 

You try to bite back the whine that is trying to escape your chest. You turn to look at Tae over your shoulder, and you should have just kept looking forward. His pupils are huge, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it. His lips are swollen, and his cheeks are pink. You let out a moan at the sight of him. Desperate to cum.

“Please, Tae. Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling like you might cry.

“Turn around, baby girl,” he says a little more gently than his last commands.

You turn around, and he steps up right in front of you as you sit on the end of the bed. He puts his fingers on your chin again and angles your head up to him. He presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, and then he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. You can see the outline of his cock through his tight black pants. You have never wanted a cock more in your life than you want his right now.

You unbutton his pants, and the flesh of his dick is right inside the zipper. So he wasn’t wearing underwear. You push his pants down, and he steps the rest of the way out of them. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it. You look up into his eyes to wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Lie down, babygirl,” he says, and you immediately obey.

His eyes flash with realization for a moment. “I don’t have a condom,” he says in panic, his breathing quickening.

“It’s fine. Are you clean? I’m fine. Birth control. Just fuck me raw,” you can’t think and words are tumbling past your lips.

“I am clean. You’re on birth control? You’re clean?” he asks, slightly more coherent than you are.

“Yes to both. Fuck me raw, Tae, please,” you beg. You feel desperate and crazy.

He pulls your hips to the end of the bed, still standing in front of you. He drags his cock through your arousal, getting his dick slick before he presses against your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, and you feel every millimeter of him exploring every millimeter of you. You let out a loud guttural moan as he continues to push all the way in. He brings his thumb to your clit and pushes messy circles there, and you clench around his dick.

“Fuck, babygirl, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna last long anyway,” he says as he draws himself slowly back out of you and pushes back in slowly.

“Tae…” you pant.

“I know, babygirl. You have to hold on though. Remember your orgasm is mine.”

He starts to thrust in and out of you more urgently. He’s panting, hair falling into his eyes. His breath is ragged as he continues to rub unforgiving circles on your clit. He pushes his hair back with his one free hand, and his tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth. You feel yourself careening toward the edge, and you don’t want to disappoint Tae but also can’t stop it. You pant out his name again.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he whispers as he bites your ear lobe, thrusts becoming erratic. You tumble over the edge, warmth filling your stomach as your pussy clenches around him, and your mind goes black as your eyes pinch shut and all of your muscles contract. You let out a low, loud moan, and Tae is crashing like a wave too. He cums hard and moans a long moan, filling you with cum and continuing to fuck it up into you. His hips only stop when you have regained your senses enough to open your eyes.

After he pulls out of you, he disappears for a second. He returns with a warm washcloth. He sets to work cleaning you and then himself. He takes the towel back to the bathroom, and then climbs into bed next to you. “What can I do to take care of you, babygirl?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I want to cuddle you, and maybe watch The Grinch,” you respond in a sleepy voice.

He gets you both under the covers, then pulls your body close to his. “I’ll try to find it, but we might have to watch something else,” he explains as he grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

“Hey Tae?” you say after you settle on watching HGTV.

He hums in response and pulls his eyes from the screen to look at you. “Can we like...go on a date soon?” you ask, suddenly nervous even though you’re both naked, cuddled in a post sex cocoon.

“I want nothing more than that...and we probably should since your pussy is already mine anyway,” he smiles a huge smile and presses kisses to your temple, cheek, and jawline. You snuggle back in and eventually fall asleep wrapped in one another.

[scarletbluebird13]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a general MK fic where whilst they’re doing something in public (i.e. dinner, shopping), we catch sight of an enemy, and a few moments later, chaos ensues and after we go BAMF, we end up with an injury that is quite serious but we brush it off? Thanks if ever you choose to do this :)

Damn Idiot

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Title: Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: ?(ambiguous) x MC 

Tags: idk what to put here; shonen?? 

Triggers: mention of blood, fighting, stabby-stabby, heavy cursing

Word count: 2038

A/N: Hiya! Thank you for the request, Nonnie! <3 I hope this is at least close to what you wanted - since no character was specified and you requested a fic, I decided to write you a fic with no specifics on who the suitor is -- hopefully his role is ambiguous enough any of the four guys could fit in <3 And I know you probably wanted one of the guys to have the cool action moment -- but MC got snubbed in her own series in all four routes and I didn’t feel right downgrading her capabilities here either -- Hope this is pretty close to what you had in mind, my apologies if it wasn’t what you wanted. Luv you Nonnie! Thank you for your request~ It was appreciated (lol thanks for laying out a general idea for what you wanted and giving me enough creative space) Feedback/criticism always welcome <3 :)

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Palm to palm, interlocking fingers - his warmth seeps into my hand. A welcomed sensation and one I’m used to. A sensation dearly missed. I’ve just returned from a month-long mission in Los Angeles. All the sunshine in that state doesn’t come close to the warmth emanating from his hand. Typically, he’d find a way to be with me - he can be impulsive at times, but then again, what did I reasonably expect when I decided I wanted us to take the next step in our relationship? I’ve missed him so much - all those lonely nights without him…the other side of the bed empty and his smell absent from the sheets. Heh. But the nights we teased each other even though we were on different continents were fantastic. ...I wonder how tonight will go…? 

“What are you smirking about?”  

I glance up at him - but the way he’s so cool and collected in public, you’d never guess that handsome face was capable of mercilessly teasing me.

“What fun is it if I just tell you?”

A smirk tugs at his lips, satisfied with my response as he replies; “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest as he gives my hand a squeeze - it’s embarrassing, but I couldn’t care less. I haven’t seen him in a month - I’ve craved his touch - and right now, it’s like we’re both immune to the stares of onlookers. Murmurs and sharp whispers can’t reach us. Not only could we care less about pda - what they say, what they think; none of it matters. What’s more? Today happens to be our anniversary and since I managed to complete the mission just in time, he’s decided to take me out on a mystery date - though, he’s so unpredictable I don’t have the slightest clue where we’re headed. 

Basking in the rare happiness and serenity, however, lay my own suspicions. 

I’ve had this sinking feeling since we began walking hand-in-hand - like there’s more to the onlookers than just passersby shocked at harmless hand holding. But today’s our day off, so I push my worries out of my mind, letting them settle in the peripheral of my mind’s eye. 

However, it’s not long before my heart begins accelerating with new meaning. 

I hear rapid footsteps approaching from behind - ones with purpose and imperativeness. All my instincts as an agent - and one who just wrapped up a mission the other day, no less - tell me this is no accident and this person means to charge toward us. Careful to not harm an innocent man running late for something or another, I look in the reflection of the window of the store in front of us, and see the man looks sketchy. Even though his eyes are covered, it’s clear he’s burning daggers at us. Whoever the target - the man at my side or myself - my instinct is to place a bullseye on this guy. 

When I see he’s too close and a millisecond would be too late to do anything, I drop the hand at my side, face the person, and land a hard kick to the ribs. In no way is the blow fatal, just enough to send the poor soul to the ground, coughing up blood. 

“___, do you know him?” 

“Oh yeah! He’s my best friend from high school, we used to do everything together- No. Of course I don’t know him.”

“Oh~ So even after kicking a man to the ribs she’s got her spice?”

“Shut up. He’s got friends.” 

And in just a moment, some of the onlookers have come to the man’s side. The others, clearly civilians, run in all directions, screaming.

“You’re a real bitch, you know?” The man with a bloody mouth says. 

“Oh is that the kind of impression I left? Glad I was memorable. Who’s lackey are you? Remind me?”

“Tch. Doesn’t matter. You’ll be face-to-face with him once we beat your sorry ass.” 

“Oooh I’m so scared.” 

“Shut up you bitch!!” I throw a punch at this annoying fool, right in the gut, my hand burning from the impact and my leg doing no better. Bad day to wear heels.  

The sorry excuse for a lackey goes flying before hitting the ground with a dull thud. Taking his place, another lackey from the crowd charges at me, and I’m able to take care of him. But there’s another - and if it weren’t for his timing, I’d have been hit. But he narrowly misses me. And that’s because the one I love steps in, punching the second lackey before he can reach me.

“Why’d you do that? I can handle this.” I say, a bit irritated at him. But I won’t lie, seeing him in action makes my heart pound - in a good way.

“A man who tries to beat a woman is not a man. That’s all.” He says, glaring the motherfucker down.

“This is my fight, not yours. Let me handle it-”

“I told you the same thing about a year ago. What was it you said to me?” He says, throwing a warm look at me from over his shoulder. With that I fall silent, remembering the love I feel for him in that moment a year ago. The same shattering fear of losing him. Of being without him. Wanting him to be okay in the end - it comes back tenfold. He gives me a soft smile before looking away from me, getting ready to fight;

“You don’t have to do this alone. I’m right here. Rely on me. Please.”

Before I know it, we’re taking out lackeys left and right, obliterating them. Rather, we should. At least one of us is an active agent with a severe training regime. 

Even with all that training

you’d think 

that I would consider every possible outcome. 

Good and bad. 

I finish up with the last pitiful excuse for a lackey when I turn around. I see the first guy coming back for another ass whooping with a sharp knife. I’m ready to take him on and disarm him the way I’ve been trained to do under certain circumstances, however, much to my horror, I see something I’ve never wanted to see since I realized how much he means to me. 

His silhouette flashes before me, his back encompassing my field of vision. I hear nothing. Feel the anguish and petrifying panic shock my nervous system. I feel faint. Like I could fall over at any minute. My hands are so pale, so cold, I forget what it means to be warm.

The only thing I see, the only thing I smell

is blood.

I’m ready to fall to my knees and scream his name but I can’t. I can’t stop now. I know I have to take out the last son-of-a-motherfucking-bitch-whore. And I wish it was the sight of his blood staining his back serving as the final thing that snapped me out of it. I wish it didn’t take me hearing his grunt and painful sighs to wake me up. I wish I would’ve sprung into action before he had the reflexes to jump in front of me like that. There’s so much I could wish for - but none of it will come true. Because the truth is I wasn’t fast enough. The truth remains that he got stabbed. And right now, all that matters is that I show the piece of motherfucking shit what happens when they go after someone so close to me. 

With tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision I gather all my strength and run towards the fucker.

Fueled with a hundred fires burning in my core, distressed and angry and scared for his damn life, my movements are hastier and packed with more roaring fireballs than ever before. 

I catch the fucker’s wrist when he tries to stab me, and I twist it as hard as I motherfucking can.  

He screams in agony and tries to reach for his injured wrist with his other hand. And to that one, I merely said ‘hell fucking no’ before punching his uninjured arm’s elbow. My fingers were red and trembling, and they hurt like hell for all the punches I’d been throwing, but I can hardly feel any of the pain. Seeing the piece of shit in front of me writhe in excruciation serves as my anesthetic. You don’t get to be one of the Boss’s top agents by not working for it. 

Pathetic excuse for a lackey gets off easy. It wouldn’t do me any good to murder him (he’s not worth the effort anyway). While he’s distracted with what I’m sure must be the most excruciating pain of his life (I guarantee it is. This hurts more than a seventh grade breakup. More than pineapple on pizza. More than getting shot. I know this because I caused that pain. If this isn’t the worst pain he’s ever been in, I’m not doing my job - even though this is my fuckin day off. My anniversary with my boyfriend of all the damn days. And to top it off, the day after I get back home after not seeing him for an entire month. Fucker has some balls trying to mess with me today), I walk behind him and shove him to the ground. I put some pressure on his leg and ask him one simple question;

“Whose motherfucking lackey are you?”

“Screw you bitch.”

“Wrong answer.” I coldly spit out, putting more pressure on his leg. 

But I stop. I hear a painful sigh, and look up. He’s clutching his wound and walking towards me with a little glint in his eye. And in that moment I forget all about the fucker beneath me and I go over to him instead. 

“Stop walking - it looks like it’s really serious. You’re bleeding out and need-” I’m cut off by his lips on mine. My heart accelerates and it stops at the same time. My body tenses up and warm tears of relief stain my cheeks as I finally reciprocate the kiss. 

“Are you okay?” I ask him, looking deep into those eyes that see more than an agent. See more than a woman. They look past all I am and all I am not and see me for me. 

“Yes, it’s not that bad anyway.” He says, his voice strained.

“Liar. You’re bleeding out. You need help.” 

“No, I swear I’m fine. This is nothing. Besides, are you okay?”

“I’m not the one who’s stabbed, so yeah, I’d say I’m okay.” 

He chuckles a little before slightly grimacing.

“Okay, you need help. Now.” 

“Bet you I don’t.”

“That’s one bet you’d lose and another I wouldn’t ever want to take any chances on.”

“I love you - you’re incredible. I knew you were perfectly capable of taking those guys out on your own - and probably a hundred more - but wow.” 

I hit his shoulder a little bit before staring him down and scolding him;

“I appreciate your help, but I was trained for this. Or did you forget that part? I could’ve handled it much quicker and definitely painless by myself. Why did you jump in front of a knife like that?” 

“Because I didn’t want to lose you. I know you can handle yourself, but I wish you’d rely on me more. You’re not alone anymore. You have me. Or did you forget?”

“But what if I’d lost you?!” I scream, losing all control over my emotions, the reality of how close I could’ve come to losing him forever to the icy grip of death more than I can handle. “Did you think about that before you jumped in front of the fucking knife like that?! You damn idiot!”

He stays silent. All he does is let me sob against his chest. Though I try to be careful, as he was stabbed in the abdomen. He caresses my hair and holds me close. 

“I wasn’t thinking. He’d stabbed me before I knew I was in front of him. I’m so sorry I scared you like that.” He whispers against my hair, placing a gentle kiss atop my head. 

“Thank you for living.”