#but anything more than that is disgusting and should be hidden away like it's shameful

[observethewalrus]

.

[thesoggiestboyintown]

ok i know i already talked about this but i wanted to add more and go in depth about this. there is so many reasons why noel could dream about monique.

it could be that he was raised to think this is true love, like if he wants boys to love him he just has to let it happen. he has to let men use and abuse him, let them control his mood and actions. he’s so desperate for this type of love, this type of pain because he thinks that’s the only love that could exist for men like him. that men will only him for his body and desperation. that the only way he could get love is to accept any form, even if it hurt him.

or again, it could be connected to his dad. maybe his dad was so rude, so degrading, he just thinks it’s acceptable. he thinks its how men should love him. why wouldn’t it be? his dad hit him out love, why shouldn’t other men? they only do this to show they care, right? his dad did it to him, possibly his mother. why shouldn’t other men? it’s how they show they love him after all.

or maybe it’s just to feel something. he’s so bored, so tired of feeling unloved. he’s so lonely, he would accept anything. any type of love, affection, even if he was discarded right away. he’s just so numb, so fucking lonely, he just wants to be seen as an option. he wants to be seen as useful, something convenient. he’s never even been a second chose, not even on the list. but someone is willing to use him, to make him feel anything but numb. even if that was pain, that was something. even if it was mental torture and emotional pain, it was better than feeling unused and inconvenient.

maybe he was in past relationships, but they were just hidden. (got this idea from the fic Now We Know What YOLO Really Means. it’s by Never_Ending_Carnival, please go read it.) All the boys that have given him attention would never admit it. it was shameful to even look at noel, let alone love him publicly. it was disgusting, dangerous. why would they be so proud to date noel? so because he was treated like a secret, a disease, maybe he feels like he deserves bad love. he deserves to be treated like shit because that’s all he was shown. he deserves bad love because he is bad. he deserves bad love because it’s familiar to him. it’s predictable. it’s easy.

[numerousbees1106]

Wasteland Scraps

Various cut tidbits from my Wastelands story! These are from various chapters, specifically chapters 5-8 :)

…

Where was he?

His limbs were heavy and somewhat tingly, but otherwise responsive and relatively pain-free. He moved to cover his face with a hand, only to smack someone else in their face.

“Uhnhgggg…” said person groaned.

“Max,” Piett called, recognizing that groan from a few-too-many drunken Imperial hangouts.

“Hnng?” Veers moaned again, twitching.

“Max, get off of me.”

The Imperial General swiftly rolled over, flopping next to Piett with no shortage of wordless complaint.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Piett scanned their surroundings.

It seemed to be a medical room of some sort, with a blinding, sterile atmosphere and an abundance of related machinery. An active bacta tank sat in the middle of the room, and a quick buzz from the Mindlink confirmed who it was.

He had been so certain that this week would be his last. Now, bound in chains and forced to kneel in absolute darkness, he wished more than ever that he had died like he was supposed to.

He remembered shattering the mindscape (he refused to think about why he had spiraled, lest he spiral again) and causing his Hivemind to collapse, injured but alive. The others in the group hadn’t been so lucky, and neither had the remainder of all the lifeforms in the base - even the stray tookas loitering around had not been spared.

He remembered his Master looming over him, a scowl on his features as he ordered Red Guards to lift him to a nearby hoverstretcher. He remembered watching as medics from his own fleet approached Piett and Veers, and he remembered the way his Master instructed the guards to cover him with a sheet, lest anyone else see. He remembered the shame, the humiliation that such an order brought, like he was something disgusting that needed to be hidden from view.

Mostly, he remembered how his severed jaw hung grimly from the wire necklace, glinting in the light, making him sick with fear.

“You must grow stronger,” Lord Vader insisted. “It is pertinent for our relationship for you to be able to defeat me in battle, for you to be able to kill me should the need arise.”

Piett blinked at him, stunned.

“Why, in all the Galaxy, would that be a needed skill?” Piett snapped, horrified.

Vader simply tilted his head, equally perplexed.

“It is important for relationships to be balanced, to be equal,” he said, finally. “I have been researching healthy relationships, and that seems to be a recurring sentiment.”

Piett pushed away the amusing absurd mental image of Lord Vader googling “how to have healthy relationship??? help???” and instead continued to stare at his idiot other.

“I must admit, I do not have very much experience with ‘healthy relationships’ or ‘boundaries’ or any of the other things I found in the advice I have received. I suppose that I will be… learning.”

Piett took a deep breath, resisting the urge to place his face in his palms.

“My Lord. Darling. Babe. That’s not what that means.”

Silence, save for the rhythmic breathing.

“They don’t mean physical prowess when they talk about a balanced relationship dynamic, though it is incredibly sweet that you thought so.”

“Then what do they mean?” Vader huffed, annoyed.

“They mean, like, financially, or when it comes to household chores, and stuff,” Piett replied.

“I… I do not have any money, personally,” Vader admitted. Piett just stared at him, unsure of what he meant.

“If necessary, I am permitted by the Emperor to utilize funds given to me, but I do not have anything else.”

“Hold on, excuse me?” Piett squawked, incredulous. “Aren’t you getting paid?”

Another blank stare from underneath the mask - Piett could feel it.

“For what?” He asked.

“For your job.”

“I do not have a job.”

“Then what do you call this?”

Staring at the screen, he found himself enraptured in what he saw, yet in disbelief of it at the same time.

After passing out in the mindscape, Piett had awoken to the crisp, sterile atmosphere of Recovery. The front of his skull had been fractured, just above his frontal lobe, and the medics said it was a miracle that he survived, let alone that he’d continue to survive with no further complications or long-lasting effects. Even more shocking, they said, was that the same exact thing had happened to General Veers.

He had felt much the same way hearing that tale as he did now, staring at the I-SORE (a rather unfortunate name, if you asked Piett - the place really was beautiful, and in no way an actual eyesore) report, seeing his name listed as the co-discoverer of a new species of warbler.

Of course, when Lord Vader had inexplicably called to him, a small bird in his hands, he had been… perplexed? Bemused? Experiencing an odd mixture of ‘what in the galaxy is happening’ and ‘oh shining stars that is SO romantic’? Either way, he didn’t quite know how to express, with words, the confusing mixture of emotions he felt.

He hadn’t seen what Lord Vader had opted to name the bird, or if he had even decided to name it at all. In fact, he hadn’t even known Lord Vader to be the least bit interested in birds, and Piett couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling he felt in his chest when he realized they possibly had a (very unexpected) shared interest. Still, never in his wildest of dreams could he have imagined that Lord Vader would have named the bird after him. And yet, staring in front of him in unyielding text were the words Piett’s Warbler, and Piett felt ready to just pass out then and there.

[borderlinemediocre]

TW for… everything

Those visceral body reactions to flashbacks and triggers, the dead inside feeling when you think about the extreme abuse and neglect you suffered, the weight of healing yourself because no one before you could be bothered to heal themselves. I’m exhausted and fucking pissed off.

Growing up we were shamed out of calling anything “mine”, including body parts. For example I couldn’t say “my arm”, I had to say “the arm.” I couldn’t wear a neckline below my collarbone, or wear shorts. When I was a toddler my mother would call me a slut because of what my father would do to me. She would call me disgusting and say I should marry him. He would say I was perfect and no boy would ever be good enough for me while sleeping naked in the same bed with me. He would tell me to sleep without underwear. He would beat the shit out of my brother and burn him with cigarettes. My mother would smoke around us as punishment because we both had asthma and it would give us asthma attacks. We were homeless and slept in abandoned houses or at shelters. I got lead poisoning. If we’d cry they’d lock us in a room and drive away. My father made me watch horror movies from a young age because it was “funny” that I was so scared.

My mother would rock herself to sleep every night and once when I was 7 I asked why. She said her older sister used to be raped by her dad every night, and rocking back and forth is how she could comfort herself to sleep. I assume she did the same when it was happening to me.

My father got arrested multiple times for domestic violence. I remember once, one of the cops found me cowering in a corner and went out to his car to get me a stuffed animal to comfort me while my father was screaming and resisting arrest in the basement. The next day some different cops came to confiscate the guns my father had.

But they pulled it together every time CPS investigated. Our parents told us not to say a word to anyone about what our life was like. They’d clean whatever space we were living in and put us in nice clothes. They’d stop drinking for the day. One of the days, though, after CPS left and determined everything was fine, my father had a grand mal seizure from not drinking for 12 hours. My mother attempted suicide three times in front of us. When I was in my early teens and was physically assaulted at a concert and was at the hospital while they checked for internal bleeding, I called my father and told him what happened. He laughed and said “cool.”

In college I was the only one working, and I worked every hour I could so we could eat and I could afford gas for my old, broken down car, and books for school. I applied to every scholarship I could find and took out as many loans as the government would let me so I could finish school. I was so brainwashed that I felt the need to support them, like they deserved to be taken care of. And it was all my responsibility.

My father’s father raped his daughter (my aunt) because she came out as a lesbian and he told her she’s not gay, she just wants to be with him. My lineage is full of and tainted with this trauma and abuse and it’s all gone unchecked, ignored, hidden. Until me.

I go to twice weekly psychotherapy, have meds that help, a much needed support system, a chosen family who loves me and who I love more than I can put into words. But this shit is so fucking hard. I made it out, got a degree, make good money, bought my own house. And this shit is still so fucking hard I can barely hold it together sometimes. Everything is a fucking trigger. Everything feels dangerous, and I still never feel clean. My husband has to come to the bathroom with me as a support because it’s scary to be in my own bathroom. I was misdiagnosed with OCD because of what my coping mechanisms look like. I have an ACE score of 10. I’m just. Fucking tired. I want to move on, focus on my life and how great it is now.

But what I need to do is tell my story to family and friends, and stop covering for my abusers. They deserve to be seen for what they are. Telling the truth is cathartic, but also fucking sucks and is draining and painful. It’s a long process and not fucking fair.

[fakeboitherottengirl]

I don’t even really watch that much gore anymore i prefer SFX in a good horror movie to the real thing but I also didn’t grow up in a house where gore was taboo, my dad watched all sorts of shit in front of me and my mom encouraged me to watch more horror movies when I went through a squeemish phase in my pre-teens and my soulmate’s brother showed it to us as a kid when the grainy  glitchy taliban beheadings were popping up online and I was always allowed to play with roadkill or the neighbor’s cat’s kills or whatever drowned in the pool as a kid and IDK what the science behind this is but when I feel the overwhelming urge to cut watching gore somehow scratches that itch without indulging in my SH urges so I consider it harm reduction.  Its not like the cartel gets a royalties check when I watch them flay a face and as a horror writer it is also a useful medical reference but I grew up thinking gore was more normal than porn (I watched gore in the open on the family computer.  I watched porn hidden in shame in my basement on a laptop that only I had access to only when I was completely alone in the house).  Even in college almost everybody I knew was into gore we used to watch it during speed benders in a jam packed dorm room huddled around the laptop of the one kid who knew how to use tor.  Like nowdays I only really watch it when a particular video sounds interesting or when Im trying to prevent a SH episode or sometimes with @xannexfrank because it is funny to torture her fiancé with it but this idea of gore being taboo is sort of novel to me because Ive always been in households/social circles where it was normalized and even encouraged but id LOVE to see yall come this hard for people who watch porn which is proven to cause neurological damage to the point where they declared it unethical to expose somebody to it for the purpose of scientific study because it causes so much damage (which is not the case for gore, you can still show that in a lab setting) like i bet half of you either watch porn or fuck men who watch porn so you think ur throwing stones from some ivory tower of purity meanwhile ur actually hucking rocks from a ditch.  Also I don’t watch animal, child, or female gore the gore I watch is grown male criminals killing other grown male criminals but yeah gore was something that was never taboo in my household and I was bullied really badly by both family and peers during my squeemish phase so I became obsessed with being able to watch anything without being upset by it and now i have no healthy sense of shock or disgust and honestly if theres something to see I want to see it, if u told me there was a dead body on my lawn id look out the window at the very least to see what there was to be seen if u don’t watch gore IDK what to tell u, ur metal is in the mail and should arrive shortly since ur such a pure angel even though ud never think of asking ur Nigel to give up his porn addiction and still watch movies by Weinstein and Polanski and Hitchcock and Kubrick while patting urself on the back about how pure u are.  Theres nothing that annoys me more than somebody who prides themselves on abstinence because chances are the media ur supporting isn’t as ethically sourced as ud like to believe no matter how PG the content is.  Staying pure is literally impossible if u intend to consume any media at all, if ur too proud to gawk at a spectacle im sorry uve lost ur sense of wonder but im not going to look away just so I can pat myself on the back for being slightly closer to an impossible standard of purity.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨6/End

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) cucking, violence, blood, some untagged extreme events.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Here’s the grand finale, I hope you all enjoy it!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You breathed shakily as you clipped the chain of diamonds around your neck. Clark stood and you watched him place his gun down. He rolled his head back and cracked his neck as he shrugged off his jacket. He slung it over the corner of the upholstered chair and your fingers fluttered down the front of your dress.

“Marcus,” he called tauntingly and clapped his hands, “I think you should see this with both eyes, don’t make me take one out.”

“Stop,” you hissed, “please.”

“What do you care about him, sweetheart? He’s a pimp,” he said brusquely.

You lowered your eyes and sniffed. He nudged you with a bent knuckle then hooked his finger under the strap of your dress.

“It’s getting late,” he warned, “let’s go.”

You stepped away from him and pushed down the zipper hidden underneath your arm. You kept your gaze to the floor as you slid the straps down your arms and shimmied out of the taut fabric. You flung the dress away and bent to undo your strappy heels. Clark tutted as he got close and slapped your ass.

“I like those, they go well with the necklace,” he purred and traced his finger up your back to snap the band of your bra.

You winced and stood. You reached back and unhooked the bra and tossed it at him with venom. You exhaled and pushed down your panties as he hummed. It took all your strength and pride not to cover yourself and cower. He came up behind you and traced your shaped with his fingertips.

“Come on,” he gripped your waist and walked you around, only feet from Marcus as he stopped you in front of the ladder, “up.”

“What?” you grabbed the rungs as he urged you closer.

“Go up,” he repeated brusquely.

You climbed carefully and when you got to the top, he tickled the back of your thigh.

“Turn around, sweetheart, and take a seat,” he demanded.

You heard Marcus sob against the gag and you turned as you tried not to slip. You sat on the top of the ladder as you faced Clark and he grasped your knees. He pushed until you let him part your legs and you felt the cool air along your cunt. He bit tip of his tongue out and kneaded your thighs.

“I’ve been patient, I can keep on,” he taunted as he leaned in and his hot breath grazed your folds, “I want to savour this, sweetheart.”

He flicked his tongue along your cunt and you hissed and clung to the sides of the ladder. He pushed your legs back so that your feet hooked around the rungs and held your hips in place. You gasped at the sensation that steamed from your loins and bit your lip. 

You put your bent finger between your teeth and moaned. His tongue moved faster as if encouraged by your weak drawl and your heart fluttered wildly. You dropped your hand to your throat and the diamonds pressed to your palm. You gulped and leaned your head back as you tried to stifle a whine.

He kept more fervent with each lap, and you pushed your thighs against his face. You looked down without thinking and the height made you dizzy. You rasped and grabbed the back of his head as you feared you would fall. He growled and sucked on your clit. You groaned as your lungs burned and your eardrums pulsed. 

You panted as the flames licked at your flesh. You turned your head away from Marcus in shame as you felt the sudden peak rising. Your hand slipped down to grasp the back of Clark’s neck and you squirmed as you came into his mouth. He kept the pressure on your clit and teased it lightly with his teeth until your legs hung limp and slowly dragged his lips down your thigh, a trail of your arousal left along your skin.

“Mmm,” he stood and shoved his hand between your legs. He pushed a finger into you suddenly and the ladder teetered beneath you. He steadied it with his other hand and added another finger, “listen to her, Marcus. How could you let this go? Priceless.”

He pulled his fingers from your cunt and held them up so that they glistened in the light. He presented them to Marcus and raised them to his mouth to suck them clean. You grimaced and looked away once more.

“Sweetheart,” he turned back and kicked the bottom rung, “you can turn around.”

You blinked at him and swallowed. You trembled as you stood on a rung and he caught you before you could fall. He helped turn you around and placed your hands at the top of the ladder and he guided you to the bottom rung. You gripped it tightly as he groped your ass and smacked it several times so the sound reverberated. 

Your flesh stung as he pressed himself to your back and nuzzled your head. He gripped your hips and rubbed his thumbs along your hips. He pulled your waist back so you were bent slightly against the ladder. He pushed apart your ass as slid two fingers down to your cunt.

He ran his fingertips along your wet folds and unzipped his pants with his other hand. You quivered as he came flush against you and bent his knees as he prodded at you from below. His tip brushed along your entrance and he coated himself in your juices before he slid just inside.

You bent your head and gulped in air as he stretched you. You reached back as he pushed in another inch and you pressed your hand to his stomach blindly. He grabbed your hand and twisted your arm behind your back. He thrust into you completely and bent to whisper along the shell of your ear.

“Feel that,” he jerked his hips so that you cried out, “perfect fit.”

“Please…” you croaked.

“Please… more?” he mocked and drew his hips back, only to slam into you again.

“Nnngghhh,” you groaned and clung to the ladder as he rocked slowly.

“This is real art, Marcus,” Clark said as he ran his hands up your side and cupped your tits, “look at her… listen to her.”

“Pl--” you couldn’t speak as your walls tightened around him snugly, begging for more even as the strained around him.

“Mmmmm,” he kissed your neck and sent a shiver through you, “so sweet.”

He nibbled playfully then sank his teeth in as he sped up. He grunted and stood back as his hips clapped against your ass. His motion stuttered for just a moment and suddenly a loop of cloth fell over your head and around your neck. He pulled the tie until it was taut around your throat and wrapped the tails around his hand.

“Ah, look at her wearing her leash like a good kitten,” he purred, “my kitten.”

You shook your head and moaned through your clamped lips. Why did it have to feel so good?

He grabbed your chin with his other hand and turned your face towards Marcus. Your head lolled in his grip and your lashes fluttered as you saw the shadow of the man you loved. You couldn’t just let that go, not in a night. A tear trickled from your eye and leaked down the side of Clark’s hand.

He kept his hand firm around your jaw and his other arm swept around your waist. He lifted you from the ladder and you squeaked. He carried you to the chair, his cock buried as deep as it would go. He bent his legs as he placed you on the cushion and you latched onto the back as he began to fuck you again; harder, faster than before.

Your voice rang out as your groans grew almost to wails. All your anger and sadness bubbled over as the pleasure forced it from your lungs. You bared your teeth and blinked through the blur. Marcus shook his head as the stool wobbled beneath him. You hated him, you hated the man behind you. You hated that you were so stupid.

You came with a shrill cry and Clark dropped your head against the back of the chair. You hugged the upholstery and whimpered as he sped up. He lifted your legs off the seat as he rutted into you, his growls savage and carnal. Your nails dug into the fabric and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the swell of ecstasy.

He rammed into you so hard you were crushed against the seat. He supported himself against the arms of the chair as he pounded into you. He huffed and swore under his breath as you felt him quake and he spilled into you. You braced yourself, disgusted by him and how great it felt.

When he finished, he lingered inside you, his knee against the edge of the seat. He slid out of you slowly and his cum dripped out of you as you sat back to catch your breath, your arms shaky as you pushed away from the cushion. He went to the table where your paints were and he took a clean rag from the bunch to wipe himself. He whistled and caught his breath.

“Did you like the show?” he taunted Marcus and tossed the dirty cloth at him, “I sure did.”

Marcus grumbled through the gag and you backed off the chair. Your walls were tender and tingly, your legs trembling, and your soul racked with shock and spite. You could hardly see as the dim light made your head ache and you shook your head as you tried to escape the afterglow that drained the energy from you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her,” Clark continued, “I can give her anything she wants and what can you do, hmm?” 

You fell against the small square table and your hand scrambled for the dark pistol. You stood straight and turned to limp over towards the men. Clark’s back was to you as your heels knocked clumsily against the wood. As you neared, Marcus lifted his head and his brow wrinkled.

You aimed at Clark but before you could pull the trigger, his arm was around yours. He pushed the gun down and you fired into the floor. He overpowered you easily as his hand wrapped around yours and you fought for control of the gun. He chuckled darkly and forced your arm forward.

He pointed the barrel at Marcus as you tried to push it away and another shot went off and left your ears ringing. You screamed as you watched the blood spread across your boyfriend’s chest. Clark released you and you fell to the floor as the gun spun across the floor. 

You got to your knees and dragged yourself over to Marcus. You reached to touch his bleeding chest and more spread onto the gag shoved into his mouth. The red stained your hands and dripped down your arms as you rose to cradle his head and his breath rattled as you pulled the cloth from his mouth. His eyes rolled back and you felt the strength leave him entirely.

“No, no, no,” you grabbed his chin and smacked his cheek, “please, please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Marcus…”

You were yanked back suddenly and nearly fell over on the strappy heels. Clark spun you to face him and you hit his chest. You looked up at him as he pushed your face against him and embraced you. He hushed you as he pet your head.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s alright,” he cooed, “you won’t be alone.”

Tears flowed down your cheeks and choked you. You sniffled and shook your head as you pushed weakly against Clark, “you’re a monster.”

“You pulled the gun, sweetheart. We could’ve been done…” he snarled as he dragged you over to the window and spun you against the glass, “but the adrenaline always get my blood pumping.”

He pressed you to the glass as your hands streaked scarlet along the window. You heard his zipper again and in an instant, he was inside you. You were on the toes of the heels as he shook the glass and thrust into you deliberately. You leaned your forehead to the cold pane and stared out into the night, the metallic smell of blood tugging at your nostrils.

🎨

You didn’t sleep, you didn’t even lay down as Clark moved your body how he wanted. The water couldn’t be hot enough to scald away your guilt and the memories of a night that never ended. The afterglow of the shower and your night did little to ease the horror of your existence. You felt as if the blood still stained your hands as you buttoned up the borrowed shirt.

You went to the window of the spacious bedroom and looked out as you heard the voices below. The black plastic bags loaded into the back of an equally dark car. You sobbed and smothered it with the loose cuff of the shirt. That was how you said goodbye, watching the remnants of your boyfriend thrown away like trash.

“Sweetheart?” Clark’s voice set your hair on edge and you turned to face him, a towel hung loosely around his waist, “I know it’s hard now--”

“How can you be okay?” you edge away from him as he neared, “he’s dead. You shot him.”

“Wasn’t my finger on the trigger,” he planted his hand against the wall and blocked you with his arm, “you shouldn’t play with guns.”

You sniffed and mopped up the last of your tears. He was so callous, so calculating. It chilled you completely.

“Who are those men?”

“A few soldiers,” he said as he dropped his arm and grabbed your hand, “you look tired. You should sleep.”

“I can’t,” you tried to tug away but he kept a hold of you.

“Well, if you’ve still got the energy,” he pulled you against him and snaked his hands down to your ass.

“You’re horrible,” you uttered as you grasped his thick biceps.

“To some,” he bent so that his nose touched yours, “but I can be real good to you, sweetheart.”

You stared at him, worn and weak. He kissed you and you let him. Marcus was dead because of you. You thought he was the selfish one for wanting everything this man had, but hadn’t you wanted the same? You came here to paint because you wanted to get paid. You were no different and now he was gone and you were stuck exactly where you belonged. It was what you deserved.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he parted and turned you to walk you backwards to the bed, “you’re gonna need your sleep.”

He nudged you down onto the bed. He went to the window and drew the long drapes and the room dimmed. He swept away his towel and let it pile on the floor as he climbed up next to you and reclined with a sigh. You laid back on the pillow and looked up at your reflection in the mirror set into the ceiling.

“Now that is art,” he winked at your reflection as he reached to caress your cheek, “you’ll see it soon enough.”

[charliedawn]

Marvel x Chubbyreader imagine

Imagine going shopping and one of the employees/customers bodyshaming you.

You find a cute dress and try it on. You get out of the dressing room and Tony's awestruck expression is enough for you to beam with pride.

" What do you think ?"

For once, Tony remains silent and only takes out his credit card as an answer.

" I'm buying this dress, and there's nothing you can do about it."

You giggle, but then someone's nasty comment makes it's way in your ear.

" Look at all that fat, it even moves when she laughs. It's disgusting. Nobody wants to see that.."

Tony stops dead in his tracks and turns towards the man with a fake smile before simply stating.

" You're fired."

The employee only laughs mockingly before replying confidently.

" I don't even work for you."

But, Tony walks to him and stares right at him with a death stare.

" I don't care, a**h*le. I buy the shop, thereby I become your boss and fire you. Now, get out of my sight before I pulverize your a**."

The employee doesn't say anything else and just walks away, not before glancing one last time at you with hatred. Tony wraps his arm around you defensively until he is definitely gone. However, the damage has been done and you finally utter weakly.

" M..Maybe I should just put the dress back.."

But, Tony doesn't let go and whispers in your ear in an hungry tone.

" Don't you dare.."

He then pays for the dress and as soon as you're in the car, he kisses you with such passion that it takes your breath away.

" Home ?"

You ask and he nods before replying in agreement.

" Home."

You already knew that Bucky was handsome..But, that didn't mean that it hurt less when people made comments about it. You spot a beautiful dress and the employee quickly takes out the dress with a huge smile.

" Here you go ! I'm sure you'll be perfect in it !"

You smile happily and nod before entering the dressing room. However, you don't even have to time to get out that you hear the same employee talking to one of the other customers.

" Oh my God ! Did you see that ?! It's a shame to let oneself go this far ! They look like a freaking mammoth in a dress. If she is like this..I can only imagine the man accompanying her !"

You don't dare get out as they start laughing together. You feel tears in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. However, the door of your dressing room opens and Bucky gets in, worried since you seemed to be taking a long time. The moment his eyes land on you, he finds you gorgeous in the dress and promises himself to buy it. But then, he sees you face and crouches in front of you with a worried expression.

" What happened ?"

You don't have to answer as the employee outside makes her voice heard again.

" Are you finished, miss ? Or do you have some trouble putting it on ? Do you want a bigger size ?"

He automatically understands and clenches his jaw, glaring at the door before looking back at you with a small smile.

" Did you hear that doll ? Sounded like a death wish to me.."

He takes your hand and kicks the door open, shocking the woman that falls on her butt and looks up at the you with a glare, not noticing Bucky standing behind you.

" Watch where you're going, you big ugly..!"

She doesn't have the time to finish her sentence as Bucky steps out and crouches in front of her to take her by the jaw harshly.

" Next time you even look at her with anything else than admiration or respect, I will make sure that you can't look at all..Understood ?"

The woman only nods in agreement and Bucky stands up, satisfied. He takes you by the waist and leaves the shop after having paid for the dress. You arrive in the parking and Bucky opens the door of his car for you.

" Now, let's go dancing..Okay ?"

Bucky asks and, when you don't answer, he turns around to see you with a frown on your face.

" Are you sure we should still go on that date ? People will still look at us and I think it would maybe be better if..Mmmmppphhh !"

You don't have the time to finish your sentence that he pins you to a nearby wall and kisses you with his hand wrapped around your throat.

" Now, I will only accept two answers from you. Dancing or kissing ? Your choice."

You smile and kiss him hungrily again. Looks like the choice is made.

" Yuck..Look at those stretch marks. They should go cover all of that up.."

Sam can't believe what he is hearing and looks at the man with anger radiating from him. You want to say that it's fine, but Sam doesn't give up and glares at the man while trying to remain calm.

" Man, shut the hell up. She is perfect in every way and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, wrong with having tiger stripes. It just means that if you were in the wild, they would be the one surving.."

You have tears in your eyes at his beautiful metaphor, but the man only laughs mockingly while eyeing you up and down.

" If the tiger is as slow and overfed as this one, won't be a problem outrunning it.."

Sam walks towards the employee and stands just in front of him before replying.

" That's where you're wrong..because this tiger is always accompanied by a falcon that will not hesitate before ripping the eyes of its prey.."

He doesn't understand until Sam punches him straight in the nose. The man whimpers in pain on the floor while Sam doesn't wait before grabbing your hand and stepping over the whimpering man.

" Come on, tiger..Let's go home.."

Vision was clearly excited when you asked him if he wanted to go shopping with you. He was starting to worry about you as you hadn't come out of your room for a while. When you both arrive, your eyes immediately see a very interesting dress that you want to try automatically. It calls you and you drag Vision along as he looks at you with a wide smile, happy to see you so happy. You take the dress and try it on. However, when you get out, you didn't plan on another person being there.

" Oh my God ! You're going to damage the dress ! Take it off !"

The man nearly shrieks and Vision frowns up at the man.

" What do you mean ? You think the dress isn't a good fit ?"

The man sneers in disdain before lookin at you with clear disgust written all over his features.

" No..SHE's not a good fit for the dress.."

Vision's eyes widen perceptibly and you can see his fingers digging into the arms of the chair. However, he still succeeds in remaining calm and answers with cold smile.

" Oh, I see..Apologies my good sir, I thought you were just mistaking, but I can see now that you're just a moron."

The man is shocked and gapes at the insult like a fish out of water.

" What did you call me ?!"

He finally shouts in indignation, but Vision, far from being intimidated, only continues to smile falsely before repeating.

" A moron. Should I repeat it again, sir ? Are you perhaps deaf ?"

The man becomes as red as a tomato and wants to slap Vision that only takes a step to the side. In an instant, he restrains the man on the floor and, in his usual polite smile, says.

" Now, the lady here is doing her best to manage her insecurities. It took weeks for me to reassure her that she is perfectly fine, and you ? You just destroyed all of my efforts with one sentence."

He is about to break the man's arm when you gently run your hand on his back soothingly. He seems to remember where he is and gets up in an instant. He then takes you by the hand to pay for the dress and get out of the shop. You wait until you are in the parking lot before stopping and making him look at you. He seems as upset as you and you try to calm him down by gently kissing him on the lips.

" Sorry..He just was so mean to you and I.."

You kiss him again and he finally melts into the kiss.

" Never say sorry for acting heroically..You acted amazing out there.."

He smiles proudly before picking you up.

" Vision ! What are you doing ?!"

You exclaim before he answers with a small smile.

" I'm taking my wife home."

He then takes back his original form and flies up in the air.

" Miss, I need you to step out of the dress. There is the scale on your right, we don't accept anything outside of size Medium in here."

You are about to reply when Scott suddenly stands up and glares at the salesman.

" No one. Tells. My. Wife. That. She. Looks. Fat."

Scott would normally go with the pacifist approach, but when it comes to directly insulting you about the thing that you're most insecure about ? Get prepared for full-on mad Scott. He will make a scene. He will physically attack the employee. It will take you to physically restrain him from scratching the man too much. He will ask to talk to his boss and will not go without a sincere apology. Don't mess with angry Scott.

" Get up ! Come on ! I'm not finished with you !"

He wouldn't say anything because you told him that you didn't want him to kill anyone again. But give him the chance ? And he would take the man's tongue and cut it so he may never speak again.

" Come on, let's go, Loki..The dress is not that important anyway.."

You take his hand and try to gently guide him outside of the dressing lounge. But, the employee adds before you could avoid any more problems.

" Yeah..The dress would be wasted on you anyway.."

This is the last straw. He turns towards the man with a dagger in hand and threatens him by putting it against his throat.

" One more word, and I will skin you like the pitiful human scum that you are ! Now, address one more time to my future wife with this sort of disgusting behavior, and your may find a thousand snakes hidden in your bed."

You drag him outside, grabbing your clothes and paying quickly. Loki frowns, upset at the fact that you didn't let him finish. You run out and it's only when you're in the car that you turn towards Loki with tears in your eyes.

" Loki. One more complaint and they will throw you in a cell again. Is that really what you want ?! Don't make idiots the reason we are separated again.."

He understands your concern and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb before kissing your forehead.

" Never..I just don't like how people treat you around here. It's so unusual. In Asgard, we don't care about the size, we care about how a woman fights. Here, you are called weak by strangers, and when you try to defend yourself, you are blamed. It just doesn't make any sense.."

You laugh at his perplexity before answering him with a kiss on the cheek.

" Never change, Loki.."

Sometimes, when you're alone like this, Loki seems almost innocent. He hasn't been shaped to understand human flaws, he even has trouble understanding why. But, this is why you love him.

" Hey, fata**! Move out of the way ! You are blocking my view !"

A customer yells at you as you just got out of the dressing room. She tries to get in, but Stephen only arks an eyebrow and uses his time stone on her.

" W..Where..?"

She stammers and Stephen quickly answers.

" You are in my realm. I was just checking if you are relevant in any dimension or time-line..Guess what ? You are not. I could send you to another planet and nobody would come looking for you. Now, do I make myself clear when I say to never speak so rudely to anyone again, and especially not her ?"

The woman nods her head vividly and Stephen smiles before making them both come back to reality. The customer looks shocked for a moment, but she only humphs and walks away. You look at him with an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

" Stephen..What did you do ?"

You ask, but he only smiles innocently at you.

" Nothing, dear. Just had to get some things done..By the way, this dress is lovely. I'll pay for it."

You quickly nod and get back in the dressing room. However, you can't seem to be able to open the back zip and finally ask for Stephen's help. He wants to act casual, but is still nervous when you ask for his help..He still enters and pulls the zip down, marveling on the exposed skin of your back in the process. He slowly runs his fingers up and down your back before kissing your neck shortly and getting out. You still smile. At least, you had your approval on the dress..

The moment you enter, everybody stares at you, Thor had insisted on coming with you in his mighty armor and you just knew it would attract many eyes..and the comments didn't take long to arrive..

" Did you see that ?! How did she manage to pull him off ?! I mean..Why her ?! It's surprising."

You hide behind Thor in shame and he quickly notices why. He approaches the man and leans in front of him with a fake smile.

" Is it though ?"

The employee seems taken aback and takes a moment to answer.

" What ?"

" Surprising ? Is it normal for humans to act in such a way when they have flaws themselves ? I mean, your brain is the size of a poptart, and you don't see me complaining about it now, do I ? I don't think you're even worthy of gazing upon her. She's a queen. A woman who has been by my side from the beginning to the end and who never left my side, even when death was upon us. Would you have done the same ? What are you compared to her ?"

Both you and the employee are shocked by Thor's words and he then takes you by the waist to kiss you in front of everyone, even going as far as squeezing your hips. You blush vividly, but he then takes a step back and looks around before shouting for everyone to hear while pointing you with his index.

" This is my woman ! She is just the way I want her and if everyone has a problem with that, he can come and talk to me !"

That quickly shuts everyone up and he then takes your hand, having spotted a very gorgeous red dress that he just knows would look good on you..or off you. 😏😂

Thor can be very confused about many human things, but he knows when something is wrong with his human and will do everything to make you feel better.

He wouldn't say anything, but as soon as your home..He would take his arrows and bow.

" Where are you going ?"

" Out."

He would simply reply and you already know that if you let him go, the employee will be psychologically scarred for the rest of his life..You post yourself in front of the door and refuse to let him pass.

" Come on, darling. Move. I just wanna talk to him..I just wanna talk to him.."

He would try to reassure you, but then, he would remember how ashamed you seemed when buying said dress. His mindset completely shifts to murderous mode as he tries to get past you.

" I just wanna kill him..I just wanna kill him.."

You wrap your arms around his waist and refuse to move.

" Come on ! You're stronger than this, my love ! Don't do it !"

He finally sighs in defeat before nodding in agreement. However, he takes you by the arms for you to get up and gently kisses you.

" I would do anything for you..Okay ?"

You smile and nod, knowing that he means it.

" I know.."

" Hey there.."

You try to ignore the woman openly flirting with your boyfriend, but it's hard when she whispers something in his ear. Something that makes him cross his arms and frown.

" I'm sorry ?"

He says, apparently confused and the woman only giggles before wrapping her arms around his arm.

" You heard me cutie, come with me and leave the pig behind.."

You nearly choke on your own saliva as she repeats high enough for you to hear..You turn around and see an angry Steve that suddenly gets up and glares down at the woman.

" Oh no..You misunderstood. I was genuinely sorry for the fact that no amount of make-up will ever be able to cover your mean heart. Now, leave us Regina George, before I decide to make you leave."

The woman's eyes widen and she turns around with a loud dramatic humph. In an instant, Steve is by your side and covers your face with kisses.

" Don't listen to her. She isn't worth it..And her perfume was just horrible, I need to wash it off when we get home."

You smile with tears in your eyes, reassured and extremely grateful for having such a perfect man in your life..

" Wait..How do you know Mean Girls ?"

You suddenly inquire as you remember that the movie only got out a few years ago..He smiles before blushing almost embarrassingly. He then admits while massaging the back of his neck with his hand nervously.

" I decided to culture myself..And I also heard Hawkeye talk about how his girl has been going crazy over that movie..So, I decided to check it out.."

Your eyes widen at the information and you smile almost mischievously.

" This is actually very "unlike" you, Rogers..Listening on doors..Are you turning to the Dark Side of the Force ?"

He looks back at you with an arked eyebrow, visibly confused and you sigh loudly.

" Oh come on ! Star Wars ! Don't tell me you've watched Mean Girls but never heard about Star Wars ! "

He only shrugs and you suddenly take him by the arm to drag him towards the exit.

" B..But the dress ?!"

He exclaims and you only reply with a slight grin.

" The dress can wait. We've got other very important matters to intend to !"

He suddenly gets out of your grip to run to get the dress and pay for it before coming back to you. He then grabs your hand with a huge smile.

" Now, we can go."

[multifandhoem]

server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

“Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

[lexosaurus]

Going Angst Week 2021: Instinct

Read: [1: birth]

Warning: Ghost Hunger

---

Ectoplasm was poisonous to humans. Danny knew that, it was one of the first things his parents had drilled into him when he was a kid.

If humans ingested small amounts of ectoplasm, they’d be sick but would likely be fine the next day. If they ingested large amounts of ectoplasm, they’d be rushed to the ER to get their stomach pumped, and if they didn’t make it there in time, they’d die.

Danny had accidentally eaten ectoplasm-infused cookies enough times in his childhood to be able to taste it’s gross battery-acid flavor. He’d felt enough stomach cramps from his mother’s cooking before Jazz insisted that they install a second fridge in the lab to store their samples inside of to know how much the human body hated the substance. 

Ectoplasm was poison. Period.

So then why was it that when he stared down longingly at the carnage before him, did he want nothing more than to dip his hand into the delicious pool of green and scoop it into his mouth?

He knew he should leave—his parents would be arriving soon—but as he stared down at the unfortunate remains of the giant ectoplasm mosquito on the pavement, all he could think about was how hungry he was and how sick he’d been all week and this was it, this was the thing that would cure him, he just needed to reach down...

Danny shook his head in disgust. He was still partially human, he couldn’t just eat ectoplasm. 

But he was so, so hungry.

Nothing he’d eaten in the past week had satisfied his hunger. No, this was something else. Something that originated deep down in his core. No human food could fix this, he knew that on instinct.

Ectoplasm was poison.

But he was starving.

Danny closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten these strange cravings. They’d been happening ever since he learned how to shoot ghost-rays with his hands. 

At first, it was easy to ignore. Just a twinge of his stomach here, a slight watering of his mouth there. Little annoyances, but nothing he couldn’t blame on exhaustion or academic stress.

But lately, the hunger had been getting worse. Just looking at a pool of ectoplasm made his heart skip a beat, and the sight of an entire ghost mosquito carcass was enough to make him want to collapse in relief.

He needed to do something. Leave. He couldn’t stay here, he was going to lose it. 

God, this was horrible. He was disgusting for even entertaining the idea.

Danny glanced back at the mosquito. Its core had smashed somehow during the fight, allowing its fresh ectoplasm to pool onto the pavement before it. The sun was setting, and it was hitting the fresh green in just the right way.

“Shut up,” Danny snapped. He wasn’t some feral vampire, he was Danny Phantom. Amity Park’s local ghost protector. He wasn’t just going to…

He glanced around. No one was here, and no one was passing by on the street either. Maybe he could afford just one little taste…

...just one…

...no one else had to know…

...he just needed to reach down and…

His fingers brushed the cool liquid, and as if he were shocked he jolted up, pressing his back into the brick building behind him and breathing hard. 

That was close. Too close. He needed to get out of here quickly before he lost control.

But as he stared back down at the gooey carcass, it was as if a trance had overtaken him. His mind fogged up, and all his worries and stresses seemed to melt away.

The only thing he knew was that he was starving, and there was food. 

Danny crouched down over the mosquito and shyly stuck his hand back out over the glowing pool of liquid. He hesitated, as if there were still some part of his mind that was trying to resist when he knew that he just needed to chill out, Danny. It’s okay. Trust yourself.

He was a ghost. He knew what he was doing.

Closing his eyes, he dipped his hand into the ectoplasm. He shuddered, allowing his hands to explore the cool liquid. It felt...nice. And his hunger seemed to yell louder until he couldn’t ignore the voice in his head goading him to eat the ectoplasm, just eat it, eat the ectoplasm, eat the food.

He brought his hand up to his mouth, and it was as if something inside him shorted out. 

His brain switched off, all thoughts left his body. The only thing that mattered was the ectoplasm, the food, his hunger, god this tasted so nice. 

His world was green, and that was all he needed.

---

“What’s wrong with me?” Danny cried. “Why can’t I stop?”

His hands were plastered in ectoplasm, and he could feel the sticky substance dripping down his suit, threading in his hair, smearing across his face.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Vlad said, hardly looking up from his paperwork on his desk. “You’re starving yourself.”

“But—but I don’t…” Danny collapsed in a chair and buried his head in his hands. 

“Daniel, really. I thought you were better than this pointless drivel.”

Danny shook his head. In a muffled voice, he whimpered, “Please, just tell me how to make this stop. I—I can’t stop. Please. I don’t want to be this monster.”

Vlad sighed and set down his pen. “Halfas have unique biologies in that due to the nature of our deaths, we have naturally powerful cores. The more powerful the ghost core, the more self-generating ectoplasm they can produce for their bodies, which then can offset any ectoplasm lost through daily functions. Like blood cells. Except, if you use more ectoplasm than your body can produce, it starts looking for other ways to replenish it. Typically for ghosts, the ambient ectoplasm in the Ghost Zone would do. But in the human world, there isn’t enough ambient ectoplasm for us to use, so we starve until our core takes matters into its own hands.”

“So, what. I have to move to the Ghost Zone? I don’t understand. Do you get like this?” Danny lifted his head up to see Vlad massaging his temples.

“Well unlike you, I’m not a complete moron who lets themselves get to the point where they can no longer control themselves.”

“But I don't want to do this! I don’t want to...to eat other ghosts.”

“Then don’t.” Vlad stood and yanked Danny through the floor and into his lab. He shoved Danny into the corner of the room. “Clean yourself up. I won’t have you dripping used ectoplasm all over my clean floors.”

Danny hung his head in a mixture of shock and shame as the hot water from the decontamination shower sprayed down on his body, washing the green stains from his suit onto the floor and down the drain.

Meanwhile, Vlad flitted around the lab, wasting no time in between plucking various tubes and files from their shelves to simultaneously berate Danny. “Really, Daniel, I know you’re an idiot but even you can’t be this appallingly stupid. There are many ways to consume ectoplasm that don’t involve tearing the cores out of your adversaries. Of course, if you continue to insist on being a toddler about your different biology then I have no doubt you’ll be back in this sorry state sooner than you can imagine.”

“Please, just tell me what to do.”

Vlad pulled out what appeared to be glowing green lettuce. “These are ectoplasmic vegetables. They grow in the Ghost Zone. I tend to prefer them with a nice cherry vinaigrette and paired with a glass of dry chardonnay. Do you understand, Daniel? The Ghost Zone is a parallel of the human dimension. If there are plants in the human world, there will also exist a variation of those plants in the Ghost Zone. You find the right ally, and you have your dinner.”

Danny stared dumbly at the plant. He’d only been to the Ghost Zone once before, when he was terrified his parents were getting divorced. And that trip had left him too scared to even think about going back.

“Where do you get yours from?” Danny asked.

Vlad put the lettuce back in the metal refrigerator. “Skulker. You know, my lackey? You may have heard of him.”

“Right.” Danny furrowed his brows. He couldn’t ask Skulker if he could have some of the plants—the ghost wanted to kill him. Again.

But he didn’t know anyone else who had ecto-plants either.

“I don’t know where I’d get them. I don’t know any ghosts.”

“Well, that seems like a personal problem.”

“Please!” Danny begged. “There has to be another way. I don’t know anyone! I can’t do this again. Please, Vlad.”

The true question was hidden underneath. But Danny knew what Vlad was going to say, and judging by Vlad’s vicious smirk, Danny’s assumptions were correct.

“Maybe if you stopped fighting your true nature, you wouldn’t have to beg for my food like a pathetic child.”

“Vlad, I—I don’t know what to do.”

Vlad transformed into his ghost form, his eyes glowing a harsh red against the dim light. “You may be a human, but you’re also a ghost. It’s time you started acting like one.”

He could feel it. His core, taunting him from under his skin. Telling him to give in, just trust it, trust his instincts.

But he couldn’t do it. He was scared, he didn’t understand why his instincts were telling him to act certain ways and do certain things. Why were the emotions of his friends and family suddenly so important to him? Why did he feel so compelled to play protector to the town? Why did he have to try to be so normal around Sam and Tucker?

Why couldn’t he go too long without transforming into his ghost form? Why did it feel like an addiction that was impossible to break?

What was wrong with him?

Give in, just give in. 

“I can’t.”

“You have to, Daniel.”

“But if I do that…”

“Then you’ll finally be admitting the truth of what you are. Why is that so wrong?”

Because I’m a ghost, ghosts are evil, ghosts are wrong, they shouldn’t exist, ghosts and humans don’t mix, ghosts are cruel creatures, they’re selfish, they’ll only act in their own self-interest.

But that was what his parents had told him. Was that true?

Did he know anything about ghosts?

Not really. Except for one, crucial thing:

Ghosts were different. 

Danny Fenton couldn’t be different.

---

<previous / next>

[sohin-ace]

Josuke & Okuyasu - Magazine

Inspired by that one fanart I can't use because I can't find the artist.

Enjoy~

'Boys will be boys'.

We don't count the times this excuse was used to justify the hormone-driven and often stupid decisions or behaviors of male teenagers.

This applies to our two protagonists, Josuke and Okuyasu who just happened to be at that age where boys were curious about their own selves but most importantly of course, curious about the opposite sex.

They couldn't really be blamed, sexuality was a normal part of a teenager's life after all. Which may or may not imply them oogling questionable things here and there or watching specific videos, for instance.

Josuke and Okuyasu decided to feast their eyes as a part of their numerous 'bro dates' as they called them, and made it a regular thing.

Of course, they made these moments very secret. Only them could know what sinful things they were doing after school. They trusted no one else than each other and nobody should ever know about their activities.

They especially couldn't let a girl know about their shenanigans. Oh no, that would be an absolute disaster if they were to be caught red-handed by a girl from their school. They would have to carry the heavy title of 'disgusting perverts', stamped right on their foreheads for the rest of their highschool years, if not their life.

One day as they got out of school, they decided to check out the X-rated section of a local konbini, section placed strategically in the far corner of the shop, and opened some nice porn magazine for their needy eyes. As one does.

"Yoooo Josuke check this out!" Okuyasu exclaimed to his friend while pointing to one of the pages, already blushing madly and coughing up an impressed chuckle.

"Oh my god!!" Josuke whisper-yelled to his friend, trying to not catch people's attention. "That's hot! You think those boobs are real?"

They kept on drooling over pictures of sexy women in bikinis or underwear and posing suggestively for 10 more solid minutes, completely forgetting about their surroundings.

They weren't really worried about getting caught as the section they were in was pretty far away from the entrance of the store and nobody really passed by this corner of the shop anyways.

As they were in their own little fantasy world, they didn't notice a certain H/C haired female coming up behind them.

"Hey isn't that the red head girl from last time?" Josuke commented as he pointed at a certain picture.

"The one who was licking a cherry? Yeah I think so." Replied his tan best friend who started chuckling.

"Who even licks cherries like that?"

"I don't know but she can lick my cherry if you know what I'm sayin'~"

They both snorted obnoxiously and stupidly to themselves until they suddenly heard a very familiar someone right behind them.

"Hey guys! What's up!"

The boys jumped, screaming high pitched 'Eeeks' and 'Uwahs' at the sound of your sweet voice startling them into the worst heart attack they'd ever experience, threatening to cut their short lives even shorter.

Josuke nearly dropped the lewd magazine from his clammy hands and they both turned around abruptly, sweating bullets as they desperately and clumsily hid the piece of dirty evidence behind their backs.

'Oh no. God, everything but not this...' They both thought in unison, as if connected.

The last thing they could have ever expected or wanted, was seeing YOU, of all people, here out of all places and now, out of all times. They really had the worst luck. Suddenly, getting struck by thunder seemed appealing.

"O-o-oh hey Y/N-chan..." Okuyasu stuttered shakily, still sweating profusely.

"What uh... Ahem... What are you doing... here...?" Josuke continued clearing his tight throat and eyeing his best friend with rising anxiety.

The boys were silently communicating, trying to come up with anything, any excuse to either hide their shameful crime from you, or make you leave as soon as possible. They had to work their so-called 'bro-telepathy' like they never did before.

"I was passing by to get some strawberry milk, but then I recognized your hair in the distance! I'm so glad to see you!" You smiled angelically at them while showing them your little pink carton of strawberry milk like it was some prize.

You were beaming so brightly at them, they almost had to squint at your radiating light and beauty. Oh no this was bad, they were both striked by you like an arrow right through their heart.

'She.... SHE'S TOO CUTE FOR THIS WORLD!' They both screamed in their heads.

You, in particular, should never know about what they were doing. EVER. You were way too pure and too innocent for this. Who knows what your reaction would be if you discovered their lewd secrets? Would you judge them? Be disgusted by them? Never talk to them ever again? They couldn't possibly risk that.

Sadly, they were not as glad to see you here as you were to see them. You eventually asked them the oh-so-dreaded question that they wished you'd never ask.

"So, what were you boys doing? Reading manga?" You leaned over to the side slightly trying to see what they were hiding behind their backs and they both panicked.

Obviously you didn't notice the big 'R18' sign over all three of your heads and surely, you couldn't know what this part of the store was since you probably never checked it in your entire life.

In an amazingly coordinated moment, Josuke swiftly handed the magazine to Okuyasu while walking towards you, passing in front of the Jobro, the action completely hidden from your sight.

Josuke came in front of you and grabbed your shoulders, smiling big and trying to act as natural as he could.

"Aah um yes! Manga! Actually there's this one manga I wanted to show you, good thing you're here!" The pompadour-haired haafu was still obviously in utter panick, even if he tried his best to play it cool.

As Josuke was trying to deflect your attention from their guilty pleasure, Okuyasu took this advantage to turn around and scurriedly hide the magazine back in it's original shelf.

You were confused at their shady behavior and furrowed your eyebrows a little bit. You noticed Josuke was sweating and panting slightly, but your eyes traveled to Okuyasu fumbling with the magazines behind and you tried to make out what he was doing.

But Josuke wouldn't let you discover their evil plan for anything in the world, and so, he cupped both your cheeks in his large hands earning a gasp from you as he almost squished them, and turned your head back to face him.

He leaned down to your height and your eyes widened, puzzled by his spontaneous actions.

"Y/N Look at me! Look at my eyes!" He stared at you with a serious expression and you blushed at his sudden bold act and how close he was.

"J-jojo...?" You yelped as your heart was beating fast in your chest.

You were so confused as to what the hell was going on and why they were acting so weird. You knew the two could be up to some truly bizarre adventures sometimes, but that was just so strange.

Whatever they were trying to distract you from, it was working. His face was so close to yours, and his big hands were so warm, you subconsciously put your small ones over his wrists in response, face now red with blood and adrenaline.

You were beyond puzzled at everything that was happening, but you were so lost in Josuke's ocean blue eyes, you completely forgot about what Okuyasu was hiding so clumsily.

Speak of the devil, the tan male suddenly came up to you both, and Josuke released you from his grasp as his best friend made a surprisingly genius offer.

"Ohh Y/N, you didn't pay for that milk yet, right? Good, it's my treat then! Josuke, let's get some too! I'm thirsty."

The scar-faced boy casually wrapped a large arm around your shoulders and swiflty turned you around in his strong hold, effectively dragging you away from the adult section of the store, and barely letting you any time to even glance at the overly sexual display around you.

"Eh? What about that manga you wanted to show me?" You looked back at Josuke, regaining your composure slowly.

"Oh that? Never mind, it's not important anyway- Hey Okuyasu, do you want banana flavor or chocolate?" The fourth Jojo quickly changed the subject as he opened the fridge doors and picked up some drinks.

"You guys are acting so weird today..." You loved the boys, and they usually brought you into their messes, that wasn't anything new, but sometimes you really couldn't understand them. "I'll go wait in line while you guys make up your minds."

You gently patted Okuyasu's chest who almost forgot to let you go and you walked away towards the cash register.

When you were finally out of earshot, they both stared at each other, thinking of how they just dodged a bullet so big, it might as well just have been an atomic bomb.

"D-dude... That was so clutch man...." Josuke sighed, still swallowing his stress out and his best friend only shut his eyes and cringed before grabbing his drink.

"Just shut up, let's not talk about it..."

"Aaahh!!" Okuyasu let out a loud sigh of delight as he sipped his banana milk. "Man, that hit the spot."

"Yeah! Nothing better than some fresh milk in the summer. Great idea Y/N."

You three walked out of the store and headed back home, enjoying your drinks. You giggled at their over-the-top reaction and handed them your own carton.

"You guys want to try strawberry flavor?"

"Oohh~" Okuyasu gushed before smirking and taking the item from your hands. "An indirect kiss from my little Y/N! Lucky~"

Josuke gasped and snatched the drink as well, snickering when he was done. "Can't say no when she's the one who proposed huehue!"

"Well you both drank from the same straw, so technically you two kissed too!" You laughed at their priceless shocked facial expressions.

"WHAT?!"

"Naah dude, no homo, no homo." Josuke patted his friend's back, reassuring him with the holy expression famous for saving countless men from potential homosexuality.

Okuyasu sighed in relief. "Yeah, no homo! Still in the bro zone, bro."

You snorted at their questionable reasoning and kept on walking when you suddenly saw two familiar faces coming towards you.

"Oh! It's Koichi and Yukako!" You waved and smiled at the couple who approached you.

"Oh hey guys, what are you doing?" The short male greeted with a smile.

"Oh nothing much, I bumped into them in the konbini." You sheepishly answered and Yukako quirked an eyebrow at the two suspicious looking males next to you.

"Really?" She feigned, still staring at them. "What were they doing without you I wonder..."

"I don't know, reading manga I think? I'm not sure, they wouldn't tell me." You tried to look between her and them and they seemed to glare at the girl as hard as she did them.

"Huh?" She scoffed and shifted her weight on one leg." I bet you guys were reading porn again. Y/N I can't believe your patience around those guys."

"HUUUHHH???" Koichi yelled in pure surprise at the revelation and you three widened your eyes.

"YOU FREAKIN- OH MY GOD SHUT UP!" Okuyasu gasped and screamed at the girl who was smirking in victory.

"W-what?" You stuttered and looked at the two visibly stressed boys. "Po-... I don't- ... What??"

"Y/N DON'T LISTEN TO HER SHE'S LYING!" Josuke guiltily tried to reason as you covered your mouth in shock.

"Well it's the truth, right? Did I hit a sensitive subject, perhaps?" The brunette chuckled cutely, infuriating your friends even more.

"YOU'RE DEAD!!!"

Josuke sprinted towards Yukako who easily hoisted her awe-struck boyfriend over her shoulder and ran for dear life, having no regrets whatsoever.

An old one. A very old fic, it hurts to read it. I'm going to go ahead and post some old stuff I wrote just to get them out of my drafts. I hope they'll be enough for my beautiful gangsters.

[arvandus]

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY!  1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it.  Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught.  Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

 All of the above?

 All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire.  Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name.  The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

 Like his hands.  You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight.  They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand.  They were a thing to be feared and avoided.  But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like?  You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

 Or his lips.  They were always covered by his mask.  You never, ever saw him without it.  You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin.  Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

 It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive.  Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

 You bet that part of him was soft too.

 The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes.  They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes.  But they lacked the warmth of Heaven.  Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

 The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore.  Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.  

 He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own.  That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing.  Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization.  You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates.  No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

 First impressions were everything to Kai.  Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion.  As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again.  You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips.  After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster.  And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

 The message he sent was clear: adapt or die.  When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

 So, you adapted.  As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path.  The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

 And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad.  Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him.  But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either.  Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often.  But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it.  And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth.  But it was just a job, right?  You didn’t need warmth.

 So why did you feel so dissatisfied?  Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

 The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

 You craved his attention.  It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care.  To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction.  The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

 As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust.  They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were.  It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.”  You wanted him.  At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse.  After all, this was Overhaul.  Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain.  It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.  

 You began to act different in front of him.  Nothing too obvious, of course.  After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all.  All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

 So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance.  You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes.  Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings.  In the end though, it made no difference.  There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

 Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside.  It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening.  Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone.  No papers remained on his desk.  His gloves and plague mask were gone.  With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

 Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood.  It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints.  You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

 You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution.  No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

 You should have just left it at that.  But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

 That should have been your first clue.

 But your mental alarms never sounded.  Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

 You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right?  Left for the evening.  What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit?  With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

 That should have been your second clue.

 But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment.  You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes.  It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction.  If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

 Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot.  Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded.  What if those were his fingers?  The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more.  You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it.  Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

 You shouldn’t be doing this.  Not here of all places.  But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations.  After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it.  And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him.  Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

 And dear God, did you need it.  You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties.  Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

 What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  He was gone, right?  And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left.  He’d be none the wiser.

 Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get.  You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

 So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in.  A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart.  In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill.  It felt so fucking good.  The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat.  You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

 “Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

 “What do you think you’re doing?”

 The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

 There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

 Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic.  You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

 FUCK. Of course.  You forgot to check outside.  He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

 Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  You hadn’t heard him enter.  How long had he been standing there??

 “I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask.  His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

 Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

 “I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”

 “I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

 “I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

 “Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

 You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

 “I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

 You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing.  His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

 “Look at you...” he grumbled.  “Disgusting.”

 His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression.  His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

 He was going to kill you.  You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less.  But you weren’t ready for it.  You didn’t want to die.

 You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare.  “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

 “Overhaul.”

 “Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me.  I meant no disrespect.”

 “No disrespect?” he sneered.  “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

 His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him.  You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence.  He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.  

 “Clean it up.”

 With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.  

 You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather.  Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame.  His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you.  It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge.  He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

 Not that you’d try to.  You knew better.

 When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.  

 It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life.  But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “I... I was just...” you stammered.

 “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

 You swallowed and set down the trashcan.  He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you.  Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head.  You stopped breathing.

 There was something... electric in the air.  You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps.  His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face.  Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely.  Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released.  After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

 Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes.  The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra.  Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier.  You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

 And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

 A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

 Hope.

 Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in.  “Follow me.”

 Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair.  Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

 “Sit.”

 Confusion.

 “W-What??” you stuttered.

 “I said sit.” He replied.

 You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt.  You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you.  His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

 “Continue.” He stated.

 “What? What do you mean?” you asked.

 His eyes stared at you knowingly.  “You didn’t get to cum, did you?”  You shook your head, stunned at his words.  “Continue.” He repeated.

 “Right here?”

 “Where else?  It was good enough for you earlier.”  His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed.  “Continue.”

 Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction.  So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

 With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access.  Chisaki didn’t look down.  Not right away, at least.  Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent.  With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you.  It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening.  You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.  

 Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to.  You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers.  It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened.  Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat.  Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him.  You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel.  You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him.  Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build.  It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat.  But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least.  You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

 With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal.  Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge.  You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat.   Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

 You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths.  Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum.  You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit.  The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

 You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure.  Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

 You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants.  Was he trying to hide it?  Because he was failing.  Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

 “Again.” He ordered.

 Your eyes bulged.  “Again?”

 He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently.  You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight.  He wanted you to do it again?

 At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired.  But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you.  No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing.  It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare.  Do it again and see what happens.

 Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

 Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb.  Except for your clit.  That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core.  With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips.  It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it.  Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki.  Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

 It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length.  You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly.  It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.  

 You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you.  With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith.  You wanted it.  You wanted to cum so badly.  But you wanted to see him even more.  So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts.  You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered.  With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips.  The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

 It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

 You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down.  You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

 It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum.  Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

 You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

 “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.  

 He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

 “Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

 You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes.  Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter.  He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand.  Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him.  You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask.  Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you.  It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

 It was the push your sensitive body needed.  You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first.  Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure.  With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

 You were given no respite.  As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

 “Again.”

 Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity.  You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation.  It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

 Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out.  “B-But... I can’t....”

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly.  He was smirking at you. Cruelly.  

 “You can, and you will.” He said.  A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings.  “Again.” He repeated.

 Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes.  You stared at the exposed skin in awe.  It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed.  Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine.  Maybe… maybe if you were good…

 You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit.  Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily.  Watching him masturbate to you was delicious.  He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light.  You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger?  Maybe both?

 You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand.  The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to.  It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

 But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

 He continued his strokes, slow and easy.  Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him.  His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need.  It was happening... he was going to cum...

 But he never did.  Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

 Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

 Maybe he was waiting for you.  Or maybe he had his own agenda.  But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

 The hypocrite.

 Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted.  But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.  

 It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation.  The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him.  You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

 “Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged.  Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours.  Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

 Chisaki froze mid-stroke.  “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

 “Please,” You begged.  “Don’t you want to?”

 His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before.  After all, what you were asking was no small order.  You knew how he felt about touch.  No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

 But that was why you begged. And pleaded.  And groveled.  Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

 “Please...” you whined one last time.  “I’ll do anything.  I need you, Kai...”

 Something about you using his given name did something.  His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck.  Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat.  You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie.  He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable.  He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence.  Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

 You waited.

 “Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

 Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you.  Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

 “So fucking filthy.” He breathed.  The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

 He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

 “...And needy.” He added.

 From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch.  But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about.  Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

 “I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself.  His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

 You were pathetic.  But you didn’t care.  You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you.  And if he wanted you to beg?  To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock?  You’d do that too.

 His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning.  A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

 Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first.  So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.”  He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

 You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous.  It made you want to cry.  You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

 But it never came.  And his hand never ventured further.  Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.  Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words.  “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

 Chisaki tsked.  “You’re afraid.  Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

 His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

 “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

 Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk.  The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

 Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

 “Kai!” you protested.

 He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered.  “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

 The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before.  Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there.  But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade.  Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

 Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

 He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand.  His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

 He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow.  Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between.  And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast.  His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return.  You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft.  The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

 The temptation was too much.  He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust.  Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles.  With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting.  You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore.  You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

 It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls.  His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face.  It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic.  Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore.  But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

 Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth.  Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

 “Shut up.” He growled.

 You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him.  And it didn’t matter to you either.  You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast.  All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint.  That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

 “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

 His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

 “So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.”  His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

 You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted.  It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock.  Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls.  It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

 The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep.  But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling.  Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up.  Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

 But he never did.  Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock.  You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state.  A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

 But he never did that either.  Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance.  Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes...  His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

 Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth.  It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected.  The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

 Whatever it was, it was short-lived.  He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips.  And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow.  No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

 You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his.  But you were quickly learning you couldn’t.  His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left.  And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?  

 The sun could never be controlled.

 And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

 Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

 “Again.”

[just-patchy]

Hell of Heaven | Stefano Fuoco

Title taken from Paradise Lost, gif choice is somewhat intentional

CW: mentions of wet dreams, mentions of sex/lust as a concept, self loathing, negative portrayal of religion, mentions of somewhat raunchy humour between teenagers

Stefano vividly remembers a particular mass he attended as a child.

He couldn’t have been older than eight or nine, his small chubby self wandering into the church when he found himself available and bored on the occasional Sunday. He remembers the priest giving long droning speeches of God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, before going into a scathing, demeaning session on certain pictures of certain women, hidden behind rehearsed kindness, upholding a pretension of nobleness and honour. He remembers the old man at the altar casually reducing those women to their bodies, measuring them on scales of chastity and rotting morals. He remembers how Father Acacius droned on about ‘respecting your body’, that the only truly right marriage was strictly that between a man and a woman, that lovemaking was strictly for reproduction and nothing more, and anyone who’d have sexual intercourse for selfish pleasure was guilty of lust. He remembers how simultaneously warm and ice cold the church felt with every word that sounded and echoed about the packed church. The adults around him nodded along to every word that fell from those thin withered lips, unseeing eyes focused on the shrivelled elder as they listened intently. And there he was, a small lost lamb with eyes like spilt blood and all the ignorance of any sheltered child.

He couldn’t explain why the speech stuck in his mind, until he woke up at age thirteen, with impure shades of white staining his shorts and bedsheets like blood, the scorching hellfire dancing in his veins, the brief flashes of untamed raven hair and daring, dashing smiles permanently etched into his bones.

His nanny found him gasping for air as he tried to drag the defiled laundry to the nearest garbage disposal, and quietly murmured comforting words and the other servants made quick work of the sheets and his shorts, the hum of the laundry machine indiscernible from the other side of the house in his room. With his parents away for work, he blearily recalls the brief biology lesson she gave him, how it was normal and healthy for a boy his age to go through such things, and yet he only felt the disgusting filthy slimy thing in his shorts that made him wash his hands over and over, until no amount of luxurious cream could keep up with the frequency of dried cracks decorating his skin.

He hides his newfound shame from his friends, puts on an innocent expression practised many times in the mirror and pretends not to hear the way they talk about the pretty girl from the next class over. He’d probably be slapped on the back and deemed a proper man should he mention the foul fantasy, so far as he left out certain details. Yet, the burning humiliation at the base of his spine stops him from saying anything, save for the way he subtly ducks away from Harley’s touch for a while.

He eventually forces the befouling feelings down, stamps them out the same way he does flames on expensive carpets when his tricks go wrong. He continues to be deemed an virtuous, pure church boy who can’t look at anyone in the eye out of shyness rather than out of guilt and disgrace. That is the role he’s assigned to, and only bad actors fail to deliver what their audiences want. He quietly makes sure to zone out of improper conversations, carefully avoiding looking at women’s body parts put on display in dirty magazines like beef at a butcher’s shop. He sits still and poised, angling himself to look like a pretty porcelain doll as he smiles bashfully when asked about his ‘preferences’. He speaks nothing of the additional three pairs of shorts he’s ruined, now burning a hole through the bottom of his drawer. He can almost taste the ‘sweetness’ his friends go on and on about beyond the heavy bitterness of bile threatening to crawl up his throat, but he bans himself from tasting the forbidden fruit, refusing to let the nectar so much as touch his tongue as the boys around him greedily suckled and milked every last drop.

He delivers his act, adding improvs that slowly become part of his routine, and by the time he enters Night Raven, he’s revised and polished so much that the elaborate set up is as shiny as the goblet of Blood in every mass. It’s almost inseparable from his actual personality, lines blurring as more and more of his performance seeps through the cracks in his facade and mixes with the scorching darkness beneath. The flames of impurity dancing along flesh and bone and threatening to expose him in a large flashy show of combustion. The shame weighing down his lower half becomes a constant comfort that he’s doing well, that he’s holding up, that’s he’s still pure and innocent to the outside world, and no one but him would know how wrong that perception was. No one would know the piling weight of sin and lust that rests on his shoulders, no one would know how defiled and disgusting he was underneath all the conservative layers.

It takes a long time for him to come around to the concept of fanservice. Johnathan and Mordred have no problem, with their natural charisma and polished images. Johnathan drops flirty one-liners that leave Stefano’s cheeks burning and Mordred’s built stature has him standing around the corner to calm the sweltering heat in his gut. Yet, when he’s encouraged to do the same, “for sales and promotions”, they say, his body runs hot and cold, a lump of coal in his throat and a knife at his neck. He dares not move, too scared that once the blood is spilled, so will all the impurities and shame he’s been hiding for the past years of his life.

And he was correct.

It’s difficult for him, now, to not let his gaze linger on Azul’s beauty mark and soft lips that would taste like sea salt, to not trace the pale, slender column of Idia’s neck and wish he could unzip the oversized baggy hoodie of his. He finds it difficult to look at the Leech twins at all, and has never been so grateful as to be a head shorter so he doesn’t have to acknowledge their mischievous, knowing looks and coy smiles. He’s practically burned by Kalim’s presence, desperately looking at anywhere else other than the sharp collarbone and intricate designs on his arm. The fire in his body is fuelled by the added guilt of being around someone so pure, naive, ignorant, unlike himself who had been long tainted and was in the process of falling down a never-ending void of temptation. It feels as though his hands can never be clean, of blood or slime, he can’t tell where one ends and the other begins anymore. They all seem to blend into a permanent stain on his hands, and he wonders if he should start wearing gloves.

The voices of the church echo, sometimes, when Gian’s comforting weight drapes all across his back as he purrs. He can almost hear Father Acacius, feel the weight of his judgmental stare as he casually remarks, “A harlot, how unfortunate…Bring your…’friend’ to our next gathering, perhaps he can benefit from the Lord’s word,” and all of a sudden, it feels as though the agonising pain has been suddenly doused, icy chills dragging up his spine despite the warm body against his back. The warm reds and browns of Florenetta fade away into the freezing white and gold, and Stefano feels like he’s the same pudgy child he was back then, a lost black lamb standing in a courthouse decorated with the Sign of God, with a large living cross splayed across his shoulders.

Growing a year older and slowly maturing into an adult did nothing to help the shame he felt, the base instincts he held as he carefully tried not to look anyone out of fear that lust will spill out of his throat. John had figured it out, he was sure of it, and he was grateful the fox decided to say nothing aside from placing a bottle of laundry stain remover on the counter of Stef’s bathroom. Anyone had to have seen his fear, really. His act was becoming less refined, less polished, more tainted and dirty and disgusting. He doesn’t want people to look at him, doesn’t want people to see the mindless animal he’s slowly becoming, one that lives off of instinct to eat and fuck and take as much as he can—as it can—without giving anything in return.

He feels envy sear into his vision in pastel blues, when a familiar first year comes into view. He feels shame for such childish, petty emotions, unfitting of someone like him, of his status and prestige and one that has much more than others could wish to have. He shouldn’t be feeling envy or jealousy or lust, not when he’s nearing that age where he could be baptised, even though the thought of being dunked into a pool of cold, unfeeling holiness threatens to choke and drown him. He has a loving busy family, blessed with talent, wealth, and surprisingly steady jobs for someone in the entertainment industry. Yet Stefano can’t even keep his own emotions and base desires in check like some ragged creature that crawled out of nowhere, and the absolute shame burned him to the core.

The lava in his veins has been boiling for a long time, and eventually it overflows, when John makes an offhanded comment on how sensual Stefano has become as he develops, the hard lines and sharp contours of a traditionally masculine figure replaced with soft curves and seduction skills all the more effective with how unaware he is most of the time. It’s meant as a joke, a little harmless jab at how uptight and shy he is. Yet Stefano feels the telltale burn of tears not a second later, his only warning before he starts crying, or is he really? The tears roll down his cheeks, but he doesn’t know what to feel or how to feel.

Part of him mourns the facade that’s finally been broken, like an old haunted porcelain doll he’s held onto ever since that first dream. He murmurs “I’m sorry” into Mordred’s shoulder over and over, grasping at John’s fluffy tail that’s wrapped itself around his waist. He’s failed to live up to expectations, and he doesn’t know whether to feel guilty over that or over the fact that he’s not that all sorry. He feels free for once, the weight of the cross lifted from his back. He feels like he could actually breathe and move without the shameful fire burning up his limbs and organs, as if it’s rebelled and burning the church in the recesses of his mind into ashes along with Father Acacius and everyone in it.

He wears stiletto heels and effortlessly slides down into splits, he hangs off of poles and sways his hips and explores this new side to his body and self that he’s kept locked up since he was thirteen. He laughs in amusement and embarrassment at all the comments of fans panicking in the best way possible no matter how many times he repeats such daring, scandalous performances, he feels much more comfortable tossing a casual wink or flirty line for his supporters.

He’s never been so thrilled to read the barrages of hate comments, and lights a bonfire every night in their honour. Shallow and fickle people focusing a little too hard on the ‘good, pure Christian boy’ image he’s cultivated over the years, offended when he wears shirts cropped short enough that they’re “barely shirts” with low rise sweats that show off his tummy. They insist that he’s “only 18”, “barely legal”, that “his old stuff was better” because he wasn’t as “slutty” or “sexualised”.

To that, he uploads a video with even more daring choreography, dances he’s only ever done in the safety of his room or one of the numerous studios in Florenetta’s dorm, where it’s only him and the mirror. Daring was a bit of an understatement, really. He was surprised Headmaster Crowley had nothing to say about it (though the man barely had much of an opinion at all when it came to the workings of Florenetta). His saving grace was likely how the video was shot, dimly lit with neon lights that illuminated his barely-clothed body in shades of blue and purple, the camera angles highlighting his graceful movements.

He’d be lying if he didn’t do it out of spite, but more than anything, the absolute joy pumping through his body, the way he throws himself into the steps and hair flips and floor work, and the way he looks over at his mediocre figure in the mirror for the first time, takes all the little flaws from head to toe, and whispers confidently, “I look good.” The sound of his shackles shattering to the floor and the feeling of air rushing into his lungs like he’s never truly breathed before, it was all too blissful to ever be interrupted by some stranger’s harsh repetitive words of chastity.

They say he’s changed, and that they miss the old Stefano, but really, he’s never changed at heart. He still goes red when Gian gives him a friendly slap on his behind, or when John gently offers some tea late at night away from prying eyes in that soft smooth voice of trust that makes him swoon. He still hesitates to snuggle up against Mordred, especially when the ace decides to go about shirtless, turns away when Lulu skips into practice wearing a sports bra and biker shorts because she couldn’t be bothered, and gets just as flustered as Marius when the younger boy catches wind of Stefano’s recent image change. He’s still mortified when his classmates come up to him teasing him about how “erotic” he’s gotten lately, as if he’s never registered the idea that those who know him in person would also watch his videos.

It’s simply that he doesn’t bother putting up a pure white Christian wall anymore. He lets his admiration be known, joining in on the excited hollers as he watches his friends excel in the most beautiful way possible. He doesn’t shy away from putting his body on display like a decorated canvas, a work of art, and finds hiding the tiny blemishes and rolls a bother. Frankly, despite what some of his fans liked to believe, he didn’t have much of a problem being ‘sexy’. It was simply another aspect of himself that both he and they could learn to love in the long run.

And if he smiles to himself quietly while he reads through all the excited and positive feedback he’s gotten, loose-limbed and warm from a long hot soak in the bath, no one else has to know.

[whumperooni]

After reading about gilf Enji I had this idea which I hope isn't TOO cursed ;; so, we all like to humiliate Natsu right? imagine that papa Natsu has the biggest hots for his cute lil girl, he adores her and would want nothing more than to make her his leetle wifey BUT, she seems to like to spend all of her time with her grandpa, she's so clingy to him and so in love, so imagine Natsus heartbreak when he goes to pick her up and finds cutie and enji getting all hot in the kitchen (1/2)

(2/2) and Natsu can do nothing more than just stand there and stare at his little girl whimpering and moaning and raining loving words and praise while getting railed by Enji fucking Todoroki, the man Natsuo still hates the most and HE of all people got to claim his little girl, like wow Natsuo got not only humiliated but also cucked by his own father

Cursed???? Cursed????? Oh, nonny, this is blessed.

I took some liberties- as per usual! But I hope you still like it, nonny ♡

tags/warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, possessive thoughts and behavior, voyeurism, unintentional cucking

“daddy, i went to grandfather’s ^~^ can you pick me up later?”

Natsuo’s eyes close. He takes a deep breath and one more, another after that.

It doesn’t calm him. It doesn’t stop him from gritting his teeth and crushing his phone in his fist.

This is the third time this week that you’ve gone to grandfather’s. This is the third time this week that he’s had to drag himself to that hated residence and face his father, struggle with the envy over your sweet smile and the kisses you press to Enji’s cheek.

Why do you have to be so enraptured with your grandfather? Why can’t you spend more time with your father- with Natsuo?

He wants you here at home. He wants you to be his good little girl and take care of his home instead of running around doing chores for your grandfather in your short skirts and aprons, your knee high socks. You’re supposed to be daddy’s little girl preparing him dinner and snuggling up next to him on the couch, letting him dote his never ending adoration on you.

You’re supposed to be his- not Enji’s.

A sigh escapes him and Natsuo scrubs at his face, frowns as he slumps his cheek into his palm after.

He can’t decide if this is more preferable to you having a boyfriend or not; Natsuo doesn’t know what he’d do if you told him some horny little prick had captured your heart.

Your heart belongs to him- your daddy.

No one else can have it.

Natsuo’s frown grows and he glances at his phone, sends off a quick little “okay angel. i’ll be there in a bit” to you before standing from his desk.

As much as he wants to rush over and scoop you up and away, he waits. He knows how much you love Enji and he wants you to be happy- no matter how bitter it may make him.

Natsuo busies himself with taking the laundry from the dryer, folding it up. It’s mostly yours and it’s not long before he comes across a pair of cute lace panties tucked among the rest of the clothes.

He stares down at the panties- tongue darting out to lick his lips and chest moving with a deep, deep breath.

He hasn’t seen these ones before; they must be new.

Natsuo’s thumbs smooth over the lace and a slow blush begins to creep across his cheeks, his mind conjures an unbidden image of you in one of his t-shirt, the panties discarded on the floor.

He’s disgusting.

It’s wrong that he’s a little hard and it’s wrong that he brings the panties up to his nose. It’s wrong that he considers stuffing them in his pocket and it’s wrong that he can’t help imaging you perched in his lap- shivering as he hooks the panties to the side, traces a finger along your slit.

But, god, he just loves his little girl so much- more than anyone, anything. He loves you and he wants you to be his in every sort of way- daughter, wife, lover.

He’ll never tell you- he can’t ever tell you. He has to keep it deep inside, let the shame and sin fester in the darkest parts of his heart.

If you don’t know about it, it can’t hurt you. It can’t be that bad if he keeps it all stuffed down and hidden away.

...right?

(He knows it’s not right.)

A quiet groan works its way up Natsuo’s throat and he squeezes his eyes tight, clenches his hand to keep from touching himself.

...he can’t.

Natsuo’s teeth grit and he places the panties on top of your clothes, resumes folding the laundry.

He’ll get you once he’s done. And he’ll keep his shameful desires all to himself.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ 

It’s a little late once he leaves the house- a call from a business partner and an unexpected favor to the neighbor had Natsuo running late.

But, he’s here now- back at his childhood home- and steeling himself to interact with his father, antsy to get you back and away from this place.

No one answers when he knocks. Natsuo frowns, but slides the door open and toes off his shoes.

You’re not in the living room when he checks and that makes him sigh, call out your name. You don’t answer him, but there’s a noise that sounds further in the house- something that makes his brows furrow.

...what is that?

Another noise and Natsuo’s frown deepens, he begins to slowly head toward it.

It sounds like a- like a-

No, no- of course not. It’s not a moan- his mind is playing tricks on him. It’s just- it’s just-

What the hell is that noise?

Trepidation floods through him and Natsuo swallows hard- hands shaking at his sides as his heart pounds.

One steps. Two steps. Three steps. Four steps.

Four steps and then he’s in the doorway of the kitchen. Four steps and then he’s staring at something his mind can’t comprehend. Four steps and then his heart breaks, his world shatters.

“Ojii-san! Ojii-san! Feels- feels-”

A moan tears through the air and Natsuo places a hand to his mouth- eyes wide as he watches his beloved daughter- his only daughter, his precious child, his heart and love- whine and moan, arch as his father- your grandfather- rocks his hips and slides his dick inside of you.

It’s not horror that rises in Natsuo first- it’s rage. It’s envy. It’s a choked, disgusting, aching wrench of jealousy and anger and heart break.

He watches as you whimper and cling to Enji- nails digging into a broad back and your legs wrapping around a thick waist, mewls leaving you as your grandfather fucks you.

“Ojii-san, feels so good! I can’t- I can’t-”

Enji grunts and Natsuo has to watch- eyes wide and growing teary, mouth numb with his fury- as his father latches his lips to your throat, fucks into you hard enough that the dishes in the cabinets shiver and shake.

“Come, little one,” Enji growls. “Come for me again.”

Again?

A sweet mewl leaves you and so does a hiccuping sob- your hands scrambling up your grandfather’s back until you can curl fingers into his hair, your body tightening as you whine his name again and again and again.

Natsuo’s fingers dig into his cheek as he stifles a yell and he grips the doorway with his free hand, nearly falls to his knees.

That’s his baby girl. That’s his daughter. And you’re- you’re-

“Love you, ojii-san! Love you so much! Please! More! More!”

“Greedy.”

It’s the fondest Natsuo has ever heard his father sound and he hates it- he hates it so fucking much, hates how Enji muffles your moan with a kiss, hates how his big hands grip your waist as he keeps fucking into your dripping cunt.

Why is it him? Why the fuck is it him?!

Tears stain Natsuo’s cheek and his fury has him shaking, his heartbreak has him rooted in the spot- unable to turn away or call out, unable to do anything but stare in his shock and jealousy as he watches each thrust that makes your breast bounce, as he watches each rock that has you whimpering and mewling. You’re flushed and beautiful, eyes heavy lidded and lips unable to stay closed with all the sweet noises leaving you, the pleasure making you a dumb, cooing, gorgeous thing.

He’s imagined the look of ecstasy on your face so many times. It’s always been him giving you pleasure in his mind, though- never this. Never ever this.

A sick wash of envy washes over Natsuo as he watches your fingers twine tighter through salt and pepper hair, as he watches you reach a hand back to grip at a cabinet while your back arches more and your lashes flutter, a low moan leaves you.

He’s hard as he watches you and that’s when the horror comes, when the shame comes crashing in.

How is this happening? How is this happening?!

“Ojii-san! Ojji-san, please! I wanna- I want-”

A cry rips from your lips and Natsuo flinches when Enji lifts you from the counter, when you’re pressed against the kitchen floor- hips lifted up and breasts pressed against the wooden slats, your eyes shut as you whine whenever Enji braces himself over you and fills you with his cock once again.

Fuck, you look so small underneath him.

Natsuo swallows hard and he takes a trembling step back, is still unable to tear his eyes away even as Enji starts rutting into you again, even as his big hands slide to thread his fingers through yours and he leans down to rumble out,

“I’ll give you what you want, little one. Ojii-san will fill you.”

Fill...fill...

Natsuo’s cock throbs and he goes dizzy, stumbles back as Enji presses a kiss to your back.

He hears you mewl out a needy “please” and that hits his limit- breaks him into nothing but tiny little shards.

Natsuo bolts out of the house, panting and gasping and running as fast as he can. He gets in the car and he gets his hand on his cock, ruts into his fist with an angry moan as his mind floods with the image of his sweet daughter being fucked by his father, your grandfather.

He comes and he chokes on a sob, forehead smacking against the steering wheel as he curls up into himself.

How could you do this? Why did it have to be him?

Natsuo grits his teeth and he slams his fist against the dash, shakes as humiliation and envy overwhelms him.

...he should have taken you like he wanted. Maybe then this wouldn’t have happened.

...he’s going to stop this. He’s going to show you who you belong to.

He has to- he can’t lose you to Enji.

Natsuo wipes furious tears from his eyes and he looks dully at his childhood home, feels bile rise in his throat.

His baby girl...his angel...

Natsuo waits in the car quietly- face blank and eyes wet, his heart aching as he counts down the seconds until his daughter is finished being fucked by his father, until he can go inside and take what is his.

[tamakissimp]

B.K- I could never

READ PART ONE HERE

summary: Weeks after meeting Bakugou, you break and call him up for comfort. Unbeknownst to you, he has been dying to hear from you.

warnings: cursing, crying, guilt, Bakugou hating himself?

wordcount: 2099

a/n: the fact that we all just decided that Bakugou smells like caramel is so funny lol

Three weeks, five days, thirteen hours and six minutes. That's how long Bakugou hasn't seen you. To anyone who asked about it, he would groan that he couldn't give a rats ass about you. But he couldn't deny it to himself. Not when he was lying awake at ungodly hours, staring at his phone in hopes that you would call him.

What if you realized how much of a dick he is and decided that you didn't want to see him ever again? The thought of having fucked up after only seeing you for less than three minutes makes his gut curl up. It makes him want to sew his mouth shut to stop the hateful words from flowing out. Every day that passed by without a call from you adds to the pile of guilt building up inside him.

His words never mattered to him. Not when he yelled at his friends. Not when he screams awful words at his parents. Not when he told Izuku to jump off a fucking roof. Never did he think about how his words affected others. But when he saw the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, the cold and broken look in your eyes, that's when he knew he fucked up.

Ever since that godforsaken day, he hasn't said a mean word to his friends. Irritated ones, sure. But Izukua was suddenly spared from the usual insults. Denki didn't get called a dunce for everything he did. His father suddenly got hugs instead of rants about how pathetic he is. The change was weird and it makes everyone feel uneasy, though it wasn't unwelcome. All of a sudden, Bakugou wasn't associated with anger and insult, now it was just anger.

His damned anger, that seemed to grow with every day. Normally, his anger was pointed at others but now it was pointed at himself. Because he was the jackass that hurt you. He was the asshole that tainted your skin with disgusting words.

Why can you only say such hurtful things? He runs his fingers over those letters that taint his wrist. Even though his room is dark, the blue light coming off his phone is enough to illuminate the space to the point where he can still make out the words. Why could he only say hurtful things? It was a conscious decision that he made. The only thing that drove him into pushing people away was himself.

His ringtone sounds through his room. His body perks up. He reads the number on the screen. Unknown. He doesn't waste a second with answering it. "Hello?" he says. The softness of his voice surprises him.

"Hi," you say. He jumps off his bed. "It's...It's Y/n.". Your voice is still as kind as it was that day. Bakugou's heart skips a couple of beats at the sound of it. He didn't know how much he missed it until now.

"Hello, hi. How-How are you doing?" he asks. He doesn't even try to keep his voice down anymore. The people sleeping around him be damned. You're more important than they will ever be.

"I'm good. I'm great," you say. It stays silent for a couple of seconds. "Actually, I'm not. I'm fucking terrible.". Bakugou remains silent. He's sure that if he says anything, he'll fuck up again. "I know this is weird, like really fucking weird but could you....come over?".

Bakugou clams his phone between his cheek and shoulder and quickly starts pulling his shoes onto his feet. "That's...weird. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say. His heart aches at the words. "You know what, just forget it. Forget I called, okay?".

"No," he says firmly. You're silence by him, taking aback for a bit. "I'm coming over, alright? Text me your address.". It isn't a question, it's a command. You need him. You're doing bad, something in you wanted him there so he well crosses all the seven seas just to get to you.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, I'll do that," you say. Bakugou hums in acknowledgement as he closes the door of his dorm behind him. "I'm gonna hang up now, okay? And I'll...I guess I'll see you in a bit.".

"I'll see you," he says. The click of you ending the call bounces through his ears before he grabs his phone and opens his messages. The address you sent him is all too familiar. The general studies dorm. Curses fly out under his breath as he roughly stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. He doesn't have time to wait for the elevator. Instead, he runs towards the stairs.

Bakugou runs down the stairs with a speed that would put Iida to shame. While the walk to the general studies dorms would normal take him five minutes, Bakugou manages to do it in under two. He finds you already standing outside of the building. A blanket is wrapped around your body. The hood of your hoodie is pulled over your head, covering your hair.

As he gets closer and closer to you, the state you're in becomes more clear to him. Your eyes are bloodshot, your chin is wobbling and dried tears have stained your cheeks. Even though you look like you're one second away from breaking, there is still a smile on your lips. That damned smile that makes Bakugou's heart skip a beat. "Hey," you say.

Bakugou doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, head burying in the crook of your neck. The sudden human contact was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. Another stream of tears rushes down your cheeks. Sobs shake through your bones as you bite your lip to keep the sounds in. It's only when the disgusting taste of blood fills your mouth that you let the sounds go.

Pathetic whimpers and sniffles ring through the night as you bury your face into Bakugou's chest. The smell of burnt caramel floods your nose and calms you down. Who knew something so sweet could be so comforting?

"Let it all out," Bakugou whispers. His hands run up and down your spine. Everything feels foreign to him. He is never one to comfort others, though, with you, it comes naturally. His body immediately knows how to calm you down and bring you back to a relaxed state.

You whisper apologies out in between sobs and ragged breaths. Even when you're falling apart in front of a total stranger you're still trying to comfort him. Running your fingers through his hair, saying praises through your apologies. It all tugs onto Bakugou's heart. Nothing in him should deserve someone as kind as you. Yet the universe still decided to tie you to together through an eternal bound of your souls.

Bakugou grabs your wrist and brings it up to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto your soulmate marks. Those words. Those words that caused you so much pain and made you fear for the moment you would meet your soulmate. Those words that he put there.

"Don't be sorry," Bakugou says. "Don't ever be sorry for feeling. Don't be sorry for crying. Got it?". You nod at him. He gently wipes the tears off your face with his thumb. "If you feel shitty, you come to me. You come to me and you do anything that helps.".

You pull away from Bakugou, now standing in front of him. It's only now that you notice his bare arms. He forgot to grab a jacket in his rush. You peel the blanket off your shoulder and hold it out to him. He shakes his head but you just push it closer to him. "Please," you say. He rolls his eyes before taking the plush material from you.

Bakugou wraps it over his shoulder. He was probably going to regret only wearing a tank top tomorrow but right now, he didn't care. "Idiot," he says as he snuggles further into the blanket. "You're going to catch a cold.". You just shake your head as you stuff your hands into the front pouch of your hoodie.

"No, you are," you say. The tears have stopped flowing down your cheeks and a smile adorns them now instead.

"Gonna tell me what's going on?" Bakugou asks. You nod, staring down at the ground. You start to fiddle with your hand. Bakugou lifts his hand and places two fingers on the underside of your chin. He lifts your head up to force you to look at him. "Come on.".

"I'm so sorry for making you wait," you say. Bakugou is taken aback by your words. "I'm your soulmate for fucks sake. And I just ignored you for weeks, that's such an asshole thing to do. I'm sorry.".

Bakugou cups your face. He shakes his head. You stare into his red eyes. There's a certain softness hidden behind the fire burning in them. "Don't. Be. Sorry," Bakugou says. The words are hard for him to say. He never opens himself up to people. Up until a few weeks ago, he did nothing but hurdle insults at people like it was nothing.

It was the only thing he knew how to do; be a bully. Yet here he is. Holding his soulmate like they're made of glass. Afraid to say anything because the has already fucked up the very second he met them. He has permanently marked them with the insults he uses.

"You aren't supposed to be sorry," he continues. "You're supposed to be fucking mad at me. You're supposed to hate me, not be sorry.". You shake your head at his words. You reach your hands up to runs them over his face. Your pointer fingers smooth out the furrow of his brow.

"I could never," you whisper. Bakugou's chin wobbles at your words. Vulnerability is new to him. Just saying these words feel like he's ripping his chest open and showing you his heart.

He's waiting for you to reach in and pull it out. For you to throw his heart on the ground and stomp on it. Instead, you gently stroke it. You say loving words to him while he did nothing to deserve them."How could I hate my soulmate?".

✨bonus✨

The bright sun shines into your skin. Crisp air bites into your nose yet the cold doesn't seem to phase you. Bakugou's hand is intertwined with yours.  You smile at him as he continues to talk about his day.

"So Kiri just came out of nowhere with five fucking bowls of noodles because that idiot order way too fucking much," Bakugou says. You nod at him. Months ago, Bakugou would have referred to his friend as 'shitty hair' or some other demeaning nickname. Now, Kirishima got the privilege of having a kinder nickname; Kiri.

Bakugou looks down at you while you keep on smiling at him. "What's up with the goofy look?" he asks. One of his brows is raised. You shake your head as a giggle escapes your lips. Bakugou's heart warms up at the sound. Even now, months after knowing you, the sounds still make him feel lovesick.

"Nothing," you say. You give his hand a gentle squeeze. You move your eyes from his handsome face to the birds flying out of the tree around you. "Just glad that you're here.".

A blush dusts over Bakugou's cheeks. Every cell in his body is set afire. All he can do is stop walking and pull you into a tight hug. You don't hesitate to return it. His body clings into your almost desperately.

"You always say such sappy shit," he mumbles into your hair. You just laugh as you wiggle yourself out of his grasp a bit. Your hand reaches up to gently stroke his cheek. Bakugou stares into your eyes with a passion you didn't know existed until that cold night outside of your dorms. "I love you," he whispers.

You stay silent for a second. Your mind is too busy with admiring his beauty to register his words. Did he just say that he loves you? Nervousness washes through Bakugou's body. Did he say it too soon? What if you don't love him? Did he fuck up?

"I love you too," you say. Those words shut up every doubt in his mind. A dorky smile spreads over his lips before he pulls you in for a kiss. His kisses are normally rough and hungry. This one is different. It's gently and filled to the brim with love. He pulls away after a few moments. "I love you too," you repeat.

[alengmae]

Every Story Is Us (CH 5)

(AN: I was convinced by Jess to post this here. IDK why Jess but you work in mysterious ways. To read this in AO3 and my other drabbles, visit here.)

“What you seek is seeking you.”

~Rumi

Penelope choked on her the tiny sip of wine she took. She started coughing but her date carried on like nothing was amiss.

“Yeah, you remind me so much of her. You should meet Mother. I just know she will love you,” he gushed further. He gave her an expectant grin.

She gaped at him in astonishment. They literally just sat down not fifteen minutes ago, yet he was already talking about her meeting his mother on their first date. She knew it was a bad idea to trust Eloise and Fran’s idea. Tinder dates were really not her style. And, based on her first date, she felt vindicated.

She was about to set the record straight when the server came to their table and took their order. She opened her mouth to speak but her date was a lot faster.

“She’ll have the Steak Diane. You don’t mind me ordering for you, right?” he asked as he turned to her.

Penelope was too dumbfounded to respond. He was hitting all her red flags and he was completely oblivious to her irritation, which was awfully apparent since the server’s professional smile turned into a wince. She only raised her glass of wine to the server, who understood immediately her need for more booze. If the server were considerate, she would bring an entire bottle for her.

“Oh and separate bill,” he added before explaining to her with a hint of condescension, “I like to go Dutch on the first date. You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t!”

Honestly, she didn’t mind at all. If anything, she would have insisted on it. She felt that he was the type to lord it over after dinner, expecting for something in return. But the way he went on another tangent about his mother, she just knew she was not going to last the appetizer course.

She cursed Eloise and Fran heavily in her head. They insisted she try out the app and look where it got her. She should have followed Daphne’s instructions, to never get caught up in her younger sisters’ shenanigans. As she listened to her date drone on and on, one thing became clear in her mind. She needed new friends.

Nay, better friends.

She just moved from Ireland to London for work. And she met Eloise, a fellow teacher, not too long ago and they clicked immediately. Soon, she was invited to all their brunches and dinners. She fell in love with her family instantly, all eight of them. Although, there was a Bridgerton brother she has not met yet. Seemingly, that Bridgerton was off traveling the world and was on a lengthy tour this time around. And, if he was anything like his siblings, she knew she would come to love him too. But, right now, that love she felt for all things Bridgerton started to wane. She said she didn’t want a date but no, Eloise and Fran had to drag her kicking and screaming into one.

She was pulled out of her reverie when her date grasped her hand. He gently caressed her with his clammy hand and she nearly shivered from disgust because why was his hand so wet?

“I just knew as soon as I saw your picture you’d be the one. Even mother said you’d be a good wife with your wide-set hips,” he beamed at her.

“Oh my god,” she gasped out loud. She tugged her hand back and excused herself to the restroom. She needed to get out of this date. Never in her life had she felt so uncomfortable. She frantically dialed Eloise to come save her but there was no reception at all. Her annoyance reached an all-time high. Was there a fucking signal blocker installed in this facility? She lingered outside the restroom, hidden by the stately plants decorating the restaurant, and repeatedly scrolled through her phone for a miracle. She was close to screaming in frustration.

It was then she felt a finger lightly poke her back. She swiveled around and saw the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He was exactly her type: tall, dark and handsome. He was incredibly fit, and wearing clothes that highlighted his muscular body. He had on a sympathetic smile and lips that were begging to be kissed. Well, hello there. Maybe his attractiveness short-circuited her brain because she just stood there gaping at him like an idiot.

“Sorry,” he modestly started, “I couldn’t help but notice. Are you alright?”

Penelope nodded, heat spreading on her cheeks. She must have looked like a mad woman, pacing to and fro in front of the restroom. She smiled weakly at him.

“Are you sure?” He glanced in the direction of her date and she grimaced. Her date was openly picking his nose in public at the moment. Penelope had to close her eyes in an effort not to shudder in repugnance. “Anne told me you might need saving.”

She perked up at the name of her server. She might have found her salvation after all. “I…actually, I might,” she bashfully admitted. “I need rescuing from my date. It’s a Tinder date.” She felt the need to explain why. Obviously, this handsome man in front of her probably think she was crazy for going on this date in the first place. And, just in case he might be interested, she wanted to make herself appear saner.

“No worries. I’m your guy,” he reassured her. When he grinned at her, she swore it went straight between her legs. The pull of her attraction to him was insanely intense. She had never felt anything like this before with other men.

“Colin, by the way,” he held out his hand, which she met coyly. “Penelope.”

She marveled at how long his fingers were compared to hers, how rough his skin was against hers and how dry his hands was compared to her date. Her mind started to wander to more wanton thoughts as he shook her hand. His fingers should be illegal, she mused. When he let go, she already mourned the loss of contact.

“Alright, Penelope. I’ll be your knight in shining armor tonight,” he stated excitedly.

Ugh, and he’s charming too? How the hell was he real?

He urged her back to her date without a game plan, only a wink. She got too pre-occupied with said wink to even ask about how he planned on rescuing her. She reluctantly sat down across her date again.

“You sure took your time there,” her date stated said evenly. “I hate waiting. Be more prudent next time.”

She almost threw the basket of breadsticks to his face. Colin better come right away or else, she will stab the man in front of her in the eye with a breadstick. Before she could openly berate him, Colin marched to their table purposefully. He stopped with a loud dramatic gasp.

“Penelope, how could you?” he bellowed scandalously. “After ten years of marriage, this is what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck…” she mumbled in shock at his theatrical display. Her date appeared to be equally confused at the scene in front of them.

“And you left Colin Jr at home by himself to meet up with this man?” Colin continued his melodrama without pausing. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Wait, you have a kid?” her date’s furious question jerked her from her bewilderment.

“I-“

“I thought you were a virgin!” he cut her off, for the nth time this night.

“That’s where you draw the line? Me not being a virgin?” her incredulous voice was shrill in affront.

Even Colin stopped with his dramatics with a revolted, “Dude.”

Thankfully, this was the moment her date decided to storm out. “Mother was right, after all. Never trust anyone from the internet,” he spat at her before he left.

Penelope hissed back, “It goes both ways!” She clutched her wine glass and chugged the contents in one go.

Colin took her date’s seat and stared at her, eyes twinkling in amusement.

She glared at him. “And you, Colin Jr really?” she asked with a huff.

“I got carried away. You should have seen your face!” He laughed out loud. But she had a sneaking suspicion that he planned it all from the start. She supposed, once that her outrage had passed, it was hilarious. She started giggling with him.

He was about to stand when the food came out, along with a bottle of wine. Penelope stopped him from leaving. “It’s a shame to waste all these food I’d end up paying for. And really want to thank you for saving me from that horrible date.”

He appeared hesitate so she added further, “After ten years of marriage, this is the least I could do.”

He laughed out loud again. It definitely was her libido acting up because she felt herself swoon slightly to his baritone laughter. She found herself wondering if he had a Tinder account. He gestured for her to pick which plate was hers. She gratefully took her previous date’s salmon dish and pushed the steak towards him. They ate, happily chatting about everything under the sun. He regaled her with stories of his vast travels, one story similarly exciting as the next. She offered her childhood tales from her Irish motherland. He started talking about his work, and how he just came back from Morocco after missing his boisterous family. And she started opening up about her insecurity of being in an unfamiliar country all by herself. He held her hand in consolation as she admitted succumbing to homesickness sometimes. He comforted her by recounting comical anecdotes from his travels.

If she was awestruck by his good-looks, she was even more enamored by his wit and sense of humor. He made her laugh so hard but he also made her think. There was nothing sexier than a sharp intellect. He was becoming more dangerous to her as more times passed.

They stayed together until it was closing time. And she barely noticed the passage of time. It wasn’t until Anne cleared her throat in front of them that they noted that they were the only patrons in the restaurant left. She awkwardly asked for the cheque but Colin stopped her.

“This one’s on me, Anne.”

Their server nodded and bid them a good night before leaving.

“What? Wait, Anne!” She tried stopping her but her pleas fell on deaf ears. “I was supposed to treat you,” she grumbled lightly to Colin.

He shrugged. “How can I ask the mother of my child, Colin Jr, to pay for our date?”

She paused, blushing profusely. “Even if she dared to date someone else tonight?” she teased playfully.

He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Even when she tried to date someone else tonight. And might I add, she looks absolutely lovely tonight.”

Smooth like fucking butter. Her face must be red as a tomato right now, she reckoned. “Well, Colin Jr’s dad is not bad looking either.”

He beamed at her. She wanted to look away because he was too beautiful, it’s just not right. But he gently grasped her hand and asked softly, “Can I have your number? I really liked our time together and I really like you.”

“I like you too,” she replied, breathless.

He started leaning towards her, eyes locked on her lips. She did the same, magnetically slanting her body closer to his. Just when they were a fraction of an inch away, the kitchen door busted open with Anne bustling out.

“Boss, do you want-oops! My bad!” She retreated as fast as she came.

Damn it, Anne! Her scowl must have been a sight since he started chortling. He kissed the back of her hand reverently after to assuage her.

“Wait, she said boss?”

It was his turn to be sheepish. “I own this place.”

She blinked. That explained his intervention. “I clearly chose the wrong place to cheat on Colin Jr’s father.”

“I don’t know. I thought you were at the perfect place and time. I think I’m plenty lucky tonight,” he said sincerely.

She didn’t think she should voice out that if he kept on being sweet like that, he will get even luckier tonight. She only replied, “I’m glad.”

She exchanged numbers with him eagerly before bidding him a good night. But before she could step out from the restaurant, he gathered her in his arms and crashed his lips against hers. And it was magic and satisfaction and bliss and release all rolled into one. She clung to him, desperate against the tide of overwhelming emotions. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she was completely swept away. It felt as if she would come undone with just a flick of his tongue. When they broke apart, they were gasping for air and sporting giddy grins.

“Good night, Colin,” she called out sweetly.

“Good night, Penelope.”

She didn’t sleep at all that night. The butterflies in her stomach were too flighty. And her excitement could not be abated, even as she knew she was attending a Bridgerton brunch the next day. She was groggy when she came in but a smile could not seem to leave her face.

Eloise pulled her aside to interrogate her about her Tinder date last night but the flurry of excitement filled the room. Everyone was enthusiastic for some reason. “The long lost Bridgerton is finally coming home. The prodigal son has returned,” Eloise said wryly. But Penelope detected her friend’s delight beneath all the sarcasm.

“Oh, that’s good,” she could not help but mirror her friend’s pleasant demeanor. She was already riding the high from last night. Another cause for celebration was just the cherry on top.

“Yeah, apparently he came back yesterday from Morocco in secret so he could surprise us. But Hyacinth still can’t keep her trap shut, ruining the surprise.”

“Morocco?”

It was then that she heard a familiar voice bellow out his greetings. She whipped her head fast and her eyes met his across the room. It was cliché but she would swear to anyone who would listen that at that moment, time slowed down. When their eyes met, it felt like nothing else mattered. And her heart leapt in anticipation as he crossed the sea of people to meet her.

“Penelope?”

“Colin.”

“You two know each other?” Eloise asked, awed.

She smiled brightly, eyes locked onto Colin. “Of course! We’ve been married, what…ten years now?”

He snickered harder upon seeing everyone’s bewildered faces. “Colin Jr missed you last night.”

Eloise interrupted again, “Is he talking about his dick?”

Penelope chose to ignore her friend now that Colin intertwined his hand with hers. “Did he now? I should go visit him some time.”

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic with your visit.”

“So how does tonight sound?” she asked, playful in her inquiry but nervous with his answer.

He kissed the back of her hand sweetly. “Perfect. I know a place. They serve the best Steak Diane.”

She laughed.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Lover

Day 8, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Lover (or, five times Lavender felt Ron slipping away, and the one time she didn't)

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Lavender Brown, but also heavy insinuations on Ron x Hermione 

Prompt: 5+1

Rating: T (for fabricated insinuations)

TW: Teen heartbreak and all the drama that comes with it.

Author's note: While I am primarily a Romione writer, I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here's a little Lav redemption. After all, she was only a girl who fell for a boy and pursued a perfectly unattached boy.

******

9 November 1996

I think he knows his hands around a cold glass 

Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine.

-I Think He Knows

The Gryffindor common room was aglow in crimson and gold, filled to capacity for the celebration of today’s victory against Slytherin. Seamus and Dean managed to smuggle in a boatload of Butterbeer for everyone, which masked the two bottles of Firewhisky Seamus was passing around their inner circle. Parvati and Lavender were lounging in the same armchair on the far side of the room.

  Lavender’s never been one to pay close attention to a Quidditch match. Sure, she was all about the parties and house spirit following a match, and if Hogwarts had a cheer squad, she’d be the first person to sign up. But sitting in the stands, watching a match for an indeterminable amount of time? She could think of at least five other things to do that didn’t involve the wind claiming victim to her hair as players whizzed by on broomsticks.

  Now that they were inside and out of the crisp November air, she could enjoy the party with her friends. Though, it’d be much more enjoyable if a certain redhead would stop flashing a grin in her direction and just come over to talk to her instead.

  “You're staring again,” Parvati chided.

  Lavender sighed in response. She couldn’t help it. He’d filled out over the summer, and Quidditch training had been kind to his physique. Red hair wasn’t a feature she ever gravitated to in the past, but freckles and those bright blue eyes were her downfall. Not to mention his infectious smile and the way he was always able to make everyone around him laugh. Ron Weasley was a good guy, and Lavender wanted to get to know him better.

  “He’s single, right?” Her fingers twirled her curly blonde hair between her fingers as she watched him take a swig of Butterbeer from the cold glass in his hands.

  “As single as the last time you asked me,” Parvati responded with an air of nonchalance in her tone.

  Lavender wasn’t surprised by her bored tone. There was only so much they could talk about when it came to Ron, considering neither knew that much about him. She contemplated Parvati’s response, weighing the options of trying to pursue something. A voice in the back of Lavender’s mind was screaming at her to ask what her other roommate’s thoughts were on the matter concerning Lavender asking Ron out, but Hermione was nowhere to be found. 

  Besides, did it really matter what she thought? Hermione has had all the time in the world to make a move on Ron if she really wanted to. She had no claim on the redheaded Gryffindor. As far as Lavender knew, he was fair game, and at the rate Ron kept glancing in her direction, she was sure it meant something.

  So, Lavender swiped the bottle of Firewhisky from the space between Parvati’s legs and the arm of the chair, where she’d been keeping it hidden, and took a large swig. She’d need the liquid courage for what she’d just decided to do.

  “What are you—” Parvati started to ask before Lavender cut her off.

  “I’m going for it.”

  Without another thought, Lavender hopped off the chair and marched over to Ron, who had just set his empty glass down on the table behind him. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether she was going to say anything or not and let the wide lopsided grin that erupted on his face decide for her when he saw her approaching.

  “Hey, Lavender! What’d you think of the—”

  Lavender didn’t wait to hear the rest of Ron’s question as she threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. His eager response paired with his hands finding a home on her hips egged her on as she refused to break the kiss right away. It was sloppy, and he was inexperienced, but he didn’t pull away at her advances. 

  I can teach him a thing or two and whip him into boyfriend material in no time.

  When they finally did pull apart, it was to a chorus of catcalls around the room. A coy smile passed over her lips as she asked, “should we find someplace a little more private?”

  ♚

20 December 1996

  Kiss me once, cause I know you had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause you waited your whole life

~Paper Rings

  “So, what do you want to do tonight?” 

  Lavender bounced up and down on the sofa next to Ron. It was the last night before the Christmas hols, and she wanted to make the most of it since she wouldn’t get to kiss him for two weeks. But something was off. Ron seemed distracted, and he kept looking past her, which was beginning to grate on Lavender’s nerves.

  “Er, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of packing to do still, so I’m not sure if we should really—”

  Lavender was taken aback as Ron threw himself at her, lips clashing together even though he was just in the middle of telling her he was too busy to do anything. Lavender cracked an eyelid open to see Hermione shoot them a disgusted look as she crossed the room and waited by the portrait hole. She clamped her eyes shut a moment later when she sensed Ron’s twitch.

  She wasn’t going to complain about snogging her boyfriend in the middle of the common room, but she kept her ears open.

  “Ah, Granger, looking delicious as ever.”

  Hermione was going to the party with Cormac? She must really be desperate to want to go with that sleazeball. 

  “Let’s get going,” Hermione responded in her usual clipped tone. “I’d rather not be in the vicinity of that much longer.”

  Lavender tried not to be offended by Hermione’s icy words. Ron didn’t deserve to be treated like rubbish, and neither did she. It’s not like Hermione had laid any claim on Ron. She tried to refocus her attention on the snog, but Ron pulled away as soon as the portrait hole closed.

  Huh, well, that was odd.

  “Well, I should go and get packed, then. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  What just happened? Is he really going upstairs after snogging me like that? 

  Lavender was thoroughly confused by Ron’s actions. Nothing seemed to match up tonight, and she didn’t want to leave things like this at the train station tomorrow. She needed to know what was going through his mind.

  “Won-Won, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing'. Why’d you start snogging me when Hermione came down the stairs?”

  “What? I can’t snog my girlfriend? It had nothing to do with Hermione.”

  Ron sounded convincing, but Lavender was still hesitant to believe it.

  “Are you sure? 

  “Yes.”

  Lavender noticed how Ron’s ears turned a bright shade of pink and wondered if he was hiding something. Even if he was, he was her boyfriend, and she decided to trust him. Switching gears, Lavender asked him the other question that was weighing on her mind.

  “Not that I care who Hermione’s going to the Slug Club party with, but why McLaggen? Everyone in Gryffindor knows to stay away from him.”

  “Dunno. Why do you say that?”

  “You don’t know? McLaggen doesn’t like to be told ‘no’.”

  “He—what?” Ron groaned and rubbed the back of his neck while his nostrils flared in annoyance. Or was it anger?

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, well, she shouldn’t be going with him in the first place.”

  “Why?” Lavender peered intently at Ron, waiting for an answer.

  His cheeks were flushed as he shook his head, eyes darting to the boy’s staircase as if he was looking for an escape.

  “Er, no reason…”

  “Won-Won,” warned Lavender.

  “I—er, I think I was supposed to go with Hermione tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lavender sensed his immediate attempt to backpedal the conversation before he even spoke. He was already standing and moving around to the backside of the sofa. Even as he attempted an explanation, Lav gathered the impression that he was trying to convince himself more so than her.

  “Well, she never officially asked me! Besides, we got into a huge row, and now I’m with you, so it doesn’t matter. Look, Lav, I’m tired, and I’ve got a lot to do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Without another word, Ron disappeared up the boy’s staircase, which left Lavender on the sofa, reeling at his words. How had she not known that Hermione had asked him—or tried to ask him—to the party?  He wasn’t trying to get back at Hermione by using Lavender, was he?

  No, that’s ridiculous! He fancies you! You wouldn’t have spent a whole month together if he was trying to get back at your roommate. 

  Lavender pushed her discomfort over Ron’s actions to the back of her mind. She’d know if he wasn’t interested. He probably just misses his friend. It was really a shame Hermione couldn’t be happy for Ron, or Lavender for that matter. But Lav wasn’t going to do anything about it, not while she had Ron all to herself. Maybe she was being selfish, but Ron was her boyfriend, and she intended to keep it that way.

♚

5 January 1997

  Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true

I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

~Cruel Summer

  Lavender was chomping at the bit to spend time with Ron upon their return to Hogwarts the Sunday after New Years, but obligations kept getting in the way. Apparently, Ron was busy with rounds and Prefect meetings during the entire train ride back to the castle, and then Harry had scheduled a team meeting after dinner. She’d given up the hope of seeing him that evening and settled on waiting for him to go down to breakfast the next morning. 

  Lavender hoped Ron wasn’t embarrassed because he never bought her a Christmas gift. They were only together for a month, and there wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend where he could have gone to buy her anything anyways. And since Harry was staying with the Weasleys, she assumed there were more safety wards in place, so the chances he could get to Diagon Alley to shop for her were slim too. 

  It’s not like she intended on getting him a gift, either, but when she saw the opportunity to get two lockets at buy one get one free, she couldn’t resist. She’d purchased one for Parvati’s gift, and her mother had always taught her to never pass up a deal, so she’d had the locket engraved with ‘Won-Won’ and sent it to him for Christmas.

  When Ron came barreling down the stairs the next morning, Lavender was so excited that she pounced on him, which caused him to flail backwards and almost topple over. 

  “Won-Won!” She left a sloppier than intended kiss on his cheek as he turned his face.

  “Hey, Lav. Er, sorry about yesterday.”

  “It’s fine, are you ready for breakfast?”

  He nodded as they exited the portrait hole. They were halfway to the Great Hall when Lavender attempted to engage him in conversation again. She knew he wasn’t a morning person, but she wasn’t willing to wait another few hours.

  “So, how were your holidays?”

  “Huh? Oh, they were good. Yours?”

  “Wonderful! I love going home for Christmas. My younger brother was so excited to see me. I picked out a toy broom for his gift this year, and he spent the whole two weeks riding on it! I was so sad to say goodbye to him again, but Easter will be here before we know it. Maybe you can come home and meet my family for Easter hols.”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

  Lavender could sense from Ron’s lackluster response that he wasn’t paying attention. So, she followed his gaze, and of course, there was Hermione, most likely darting off to the library or wherever she went to avoid her former best friend. Her blood boiled at the way she was treating Ron. At least that’s what she was telling herself. She certainly wasn’t jealous of the way Ron was watching her.

  Lavender reached up and gently turned his face back to focus on her. “Did you like your gift?”

  “Y-yeah, it’s great.”

  “Are you wearing it?” Her hand slid down to feel his chest. Maybe it was concealed under his uniform.

  “Er, no. I—uh—I’ve got it tucked away under my pillow for safekeeping.”

  “Why? You aren’t embarrassed of us, are you?”

  “N-no! I just like to—uh—keep it close when I’m sleeping so I can dream of you!”

  Lavender suppressed a laugh at his attempt to give an excuse to not wear it. It was sweet, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. She threw her arms around him and squealed in response to his reasoning. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable, so Lavender figured a positive reaction would make him feel better about the whole ordeal.

  “That’s so sweet, Won-Won! I’m glad you liked it!”

  His face turned a blotchy red as they entered the hall and found a seat at the Gryffindor table. Lavender chose not to press the issue anymore as she turned to her thoughts instead. Maybe the locket wasn’t the best idea to give a boyfriend of only a month. But she’d never felt this way before. Seamus had been a fun fling, but with Ron, she felt different. He made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and she hoped she hadn’t given him the wrong impression with the gift. 

  She’d just have to make it up to him in other ways. Yes, that was it. Lavender would make sure he knew how much she cared while also making sure his eye didn’t continue wandering toward her roommate and his former best friend.

  ♚

14 February 1997

  Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

~Lover

  Lavender sat alone in the empty classroom, waiting for Ron to show up after rounds. Rounds! Why did he have to have rounds today, of all days?  It was completely and utterly unfair. He promised her he’d meet her in the empty classroom near Gryffindor tower as soon as rounds were over, but it was already ten past eleven, and he was nowhere to be found.

  She hadn’t gotten him anything this time for fear it might embarrass him again, just like the locket. Oh yes, she’d heard Harry telling Neville about his Christmas present while she was searching for a book in the library, and she heard every excruciating detail of how mortified Ron was by it. Apparently, it wasn’t under his pillow after all. It was hidden in the bottom of his trunk. So, for Valentine’s Day, she opted to give him something he could hang onto in his mind instead. 

  At least, that’s what she planned. Lavender took to pacing the classroom for another ten minutes before resigning to the fact that Ron wasn’t coming. A pang of disappointment rippled out from her heart, and she tried to convince herself that maybe he’d forgotten. But ever since they’d returned from Christmas hols, she felt Ron pulling further and further away. Before the two week break, they’d gone off to spend time together every night, snogging in empty classrooms and broom closets, and sometimes even a late-night walk around the castle. Now, she was lucky if she could pry him away from his studies twice a week to spend some quality time together. 

  Sure, they ate meals together and sat next to each other in their shared classes, but it wasn’t like they ever talked that much. Come to think of it, every time she’d try to ask about his life, he’d always deflect to her. And of course, Lavender never had a problem finding something to talk about with her family because she wanted to share everything she could with Ron. Yet now, she was wondering if he actually cared or if he was just being polite.

  Thoughts consumed her mind as she walked silently back to Gryffindor tower. By the time she entered the common room, it was deserted. Part of her thought about checking to see if Ron was back in the dorms, but the other side told her it wasn’t worth it. It’d be his own fault if he got caught sneaking around after hours without her since he’d ditched her on what was supposed to be the most romantic night of the year. 

  The last thing she wanted to do was go up to her dorm and face Hermione’s smug look when she found out Ron ditched his girlfriend tonight, but she wasn’t about to hang around the common room like a rejected piece of garbage. 

  Ron is still yours. Not hers. Even if tonight didn’t go as planned, still make her remember that.

  So, when she entered the girl’s sixth-year dorm, Lavender plastered a smile on her face. Parvati was sitting on her bed while Hermione’s curtains were closed tight.

  “Hey! I was wondering when you were going to show up. Have a good night?”

  “Oh, it was the best!” Lavender gushed. “Ron was so sweet and romantic. He gave me some chocolate frogs, which I know are his favorite, and I gave him...well, you know.”

  She made her voice sound as suggestive as possible, and if Hermione was listening, then that was her own fault.

  “I need to freshen up now. I’m rather sweaty from all that we got up to. And then I should head to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning, Par, I promise. Ron thoroughly wore me out, I’m exhausted.”

  What neither girl realized, though, was that Lavender let out a good cry in the shower instead. Because her boyfriend ditched her on her favorite day of the year.

  ♚

2 March 1997

  Cause I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

It’s death by a thousand cuts

~Death by a Thousand Cuts

  “I’m sure he’s just on a lot of potions, Lav. I wouldn’t think too much of it.”

  Parvati was attempting to comfort her best friend. Lavender had had a rotten weekend. Ron was poisoned yesterday, on his birthday of all days! Not that the day mattered. He was still poisoned, and he could have died!

  What did make it worse was that nobody thought to tell her until well into the afternoon. She’d burst into the Hospital Wing to find his best friend, sister, and her sitting vigil at his bedside. Lavender didn’t think she’d ever been so livid in her life. And then he’d croaked something out in his sleep that sounded like a name, but it was not hers.

  She felt the entire relationship slipping through her fingers. When did things start to take a turn for the worse? What went wrong? Surely he still fancied her because if he didn’t, then why hadn’t he called things off?

  Because he does still fancy you. Of course, he does! Don’t worry about her. She means nothing to him. 

  Lavender tried with all her might to believe it, but it was becoming harder and harder every day. And despite her best friend’s attempts to make her feel better, it wasn’t doing any good. Parvati wasn’t outside the Hospital Wing with Lav when she overheard Ron talking to Harry and asking for Quidditch magazines. There was no question that he was awake, but as soon as she walked in, Ron ‘magically’ appeared to be sleeping again. And Harry had the audacity to cover for him!

  She’d tried to go see him two more times that day, and both times he was ‘sleeping.’ Something happened, and he was avoiding her, and it hurt. But how could she call him out on it when he was ‘asleep’? 

  She thought about whether she should confide in Parvati or just internalize her feelings. Parvati had been there through everything, but Lavender decided she wasn’t ready to bring up her speculations until she had more proof. So instead, Lavender chose to keep her thoughts to herself.

  Did she want to break things off with Ron? No. Was she willing to do what it took to keep him around? Yes. So, Lavender resolved to do whatever it took to keep Ron interested. She’d back off, not be as needy, and keep things cool and breezy. They could make this work. She was sure of it.

   ♚

2 April 1997

  And I don’t want you to (go) I don’t really wanna (fight)

‘Cause nobody’s gonna (win) I just thought you should know

~Miss Americana and the Heart Break Prince

  Lavender entered the common room after Divination to see Ron sitting on the couch next to Harry. The two were furiously scribbling on parchment, and Lavender couldn't help but roll her eyes at what she assumed to be a last-minute attempt to finish one of his assignments. Even so, she figured she’d surprise him and see if he could be persuaded to take a break and go for a walk instead.

  She dropped her bag behind the sofa and covered Ron’s eyes with her hands. “Guess who!”

  “Oi!” Ron flung his arms back, sending ink droplets flying over his and Harry’s parchment, as well as the table and upholstery of the sofa in the process.

  Lavender ripped her hands off his eyes and apologized with a pout. “It’s only me, Won-Won. I just wanted to surprise you.”

  “Oh, er, sorry, Lav. I’m busy right now. I need to finish Snape’s Defense essay.” 

  The words sounded apologetic, but the lack of sympathy in Ron’s expression caused unease to bubble up in Lavender’s stomach. Usually, he’s better about hiding his disinterest in showing affection around his friends. But the way he’d acted just now made her feel like he was downright repulsed by an innocent touch.

  “But that essay isn’t due until tomorrow. I still have to put the final touches on mine as well. Maybe we could go for a walk now and work on it together after dinner?”

  Sure, the snogging was brilliant, but that’s all they ever seemed to do. She wanted to make things work between them, and after five months, she knew they’d never have a successful relationship if it stayed strictly physical. Besides, that clearly wasn’t working in an effort to keep him interested anymore.

  “Sorry, Lav, I can’t. I’ve got rounds tonight.”

  Another pang of hurt emanated in her chest at his rejection. “Oh, well, maybe I could work on it with you now, then?”

  She knew what his answer was going to be before he said anything. He was already packing up his things. 

  “Er, maybe on another assignment. I’ve got to hit the library before dinner and see if I can find one more source. I’ll meet up with you later, though, yeah?”

  Ron was already out of his seat and headed for the door without bothering to wait for a response, which further solidified Lavender’s suspicion that it was an offer he didn’t intend to follow through on. Ordinarily, she would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but it’d been three weeks of him avoiding her ever since he and Hermione had reconciled. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her bag and headed for the girl’s dormitory, where she passed Hermione on the stairwell.

  “Let me guess, Ron’s busy?” Parvati asked, saving Lavender from having to retell the excuse.

  “Yeah. He has rounds tonight, I guess.”

  “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Hermione has rounds tonight, too. Padma said they switched back for the month.”

  Lavender felt as though a fifty-pound weight had been placed on her chest as her heart constricted at Parvati’s news. She knew this was coming but refused to believe it, choosing instead to turn a blind eye to all the signs. A tear escaped out of the corner of her eye as she tried to come to terms with the fact that no matter what she did, Hermione was going to win. Which led her to wonder whether Ron had ever truly been hers at all.

  Well, good. If Ron’s not interested anymore, then he can be a man and break things off. And if he’s too much of a coward to do it on his own, then I’ll do everything in my power to help push him along, all while reminding Hermione that he’s still mine in the process.

Maybe it was spiteful, but Lavender no longer cared. Deep down, she knew their relationship was probably doomed from the start, but that didn’t lessen the pain. Perhaps she never stood a chance, especially knowing his relationship with Hermione never was a typical friendship, but Ron could have told her no all those months ago if that was the case. Their fleeting relationship may have come to pass, but at least Lavender had the memories of time spent together to look back on when he had cared. Because he had cared once, right?