#but hear me out. It's called hatefucking

[chocum]

WY@ !

— “even i know you ain’t no good for me, but you feel so good to me” feat. toji fushiguro & nanami kento (separate)

WARNING. you know you shouldn’t be messing with them, but fuck it feels good. femreader (she/her) v in p, dirty talk. missionary, hatefucking toj, namis ur boss, corruption kink kinda in nanamis, pervy nanami, ( 1.3k ) note. kindaaa ib wy@ by brent faiyaz mhm. thank you all for the support, hope u all enjoy bc i genuinely enjoyed writing this !!

TOJI FUSHIGURO — YOUR EX

“look at how fucking wet you are f’me baby. making a mess all over my fingers. i know you fucking miss me. cmonnn, come back to be, doll”

you’re trying so hard to mask the raw, carnal desire that pools and swirls deep in the pit of your core, refusing to stroke at his overgrown ego any further because being here, pressed up against his stupidly muscular frame after yelling hitting, and swearing to the heavens down to hell that he’d never see you again is already more than enough.

“n-no” you spit, an attempt to sound firm but it only comes out as a little whine making him erupt in laughter as he brings his dripping, slicked-up fingers— they’re glistening, covered in your mess, to your face, spreading them in front of you to make you watch how you web and coat every inch of his thick digits, “dunno why you’re tryna act all hard ‘s obvious you want me. pussy’s basically talkin’ ta me.”

“shut up and fuck me already” you never fail to bite.

“only ‘cause you asked soo nicely,” but he always bites back.

now he’s folding you over, pushing against the backs of your thighs so he can bully his thick cock into your more than welcoming pussy— he’s fucking into you like he hates you, knocking the air out of your lungs with every stroke, his pelvis brushing up against your clit because he’s soo deep, reminding you who your walls belong to.

“shiit toj’ it’s-“

“oh, now i’m toj’, hm?” he tilts his head, black hair hanging to the side, raising his pitch to mock your whiny tone. you hate him. originally you had only came over to pick up some clothes you had left when you first moved out. it all happened too quick, the argument starting over something so small, you were bound to forget some things.

you told him you were coming over to get your things; he knew. so the lack of a shirt, the towel that loosely wrapped underneath the deep cut of his v-line was no coincidence. one second you were looking through his drawers for your stuff, the next— well, now you’re getting the shit fucked out of you.

each time he drags his heavy cock against your walls stuffing your little pussy, each time he calls you his, tells you how dirty you are for him, you slowly start to forget why you broke up with him in the first place.

“playin’ tug a war with my, dick baby. shits so tight fuuuuck, nobody been in it since me, huh?”

you shake your head against the sheets, your resolve now dry and gone thanks to his cock pressing your sweet spot over and over and over, moans flowing past your slack jaw, “no. no one”

“good fucking girl. you know nobody can fuck you like i do. who pussy is this?” he’s grunting out straight filth and he’s got that stupid smirk on his face, teeth flashing underneath the characteristic scar.

but you don’t want to give into him— fighting till the end, so you mumble a “yours” your head falling to the side to avoid his dark eyes, opting to stare at the blank walls that have heard your scream for him time and time again.

but he stops, fully plugging you up, making your body tense and keen. “can’t hear you, doll?”

you truly do hate him, “‘m not movin’ till you answer my question. you can lay there and warm my cock all night, ‘s fine by me.” with every fiber in your being.

but still, you whine out a desperate “‘s yours” a little louder, heat spreading and scorching every inch of your body like waves of molten lava. because you need it. so bare and exposed for him, so vulnerable.

“who?”

“your’s toji! your pussy, all yours!”

he loves breaking you down like this, pounding you to a pulp, leaving you so small and empty underneath him to pick up and glue back together.

“there you go” he hums, “wasn’t so hard was it?” before rocking against you again, finally, finally scratching that itch so deep in your cunt only he can reach it. he knows it and with how you keep coming back, he knows you know it, too.

KENTO NANAMI — YOUR BOSS

mr. nanami, or kento as he repeatedly encourages you to call him with a sweet honeyed smile, has a thing for the cute, bright-eyed new girls that come into the office. he’ll fuck em a few times, dump out his warm cum, empty his balls then move onto the next.

but with you, it was different.

you didn’t stumble into his office as hurriedly as the others, didn’t pick up on the subtle hints he would drop, brushing his hand against your shoulder, grazing your blouse or squeezing your arm with his large hands, reassuring you when worried about your workload like a good boss should.

but you never got it. and it made him want you even more.

so he decided to make it painstakingly obvious. saying he needed you to stay later than everyone else that night to fill out some very important paperwork you missed when you were first hired.

walking into his office .. felt different, he felt different. its dark and most importantly, his desk is empty, not a single sheet of “important paperwork” in sight on the brownish wood that raises and decorates his modernly adorned office.

“sir?” you chime, grabbing his attention because he was lost in thought, adjusting himself against his black office chair with a grunt.

he smiles at you, sweetly, to hide his hunger. like a big bad wolf in sheep’s clothing “yes, come in. over here. next to me”

you shuffle over to where he sits, his back to the tall windows that loom and overlook the city, perched up on the top floor.

“come sit” he’s humming, patting at the large bulge in his lap making you gulp. but you obey with a shaky, “o-ok”

he’s your boss after all.

you sit, your thighs opening, spread for him on either side of his, making your tight pencil skirt rise and bunch up around your ass. his hands move to map your now exposed upper thighs, a smile growing on his lips.

“you’re such a hard worker. always turning in high-quality work. on time, too. i wanted to give you a reward.”

he moves higher, higher, and oh.

you’re not wearing any panties.

.. which is odd because he peaked earlier when you were bending over to pick up some dropped papers— could'nt help his curious eyes, and he could’ve sworn you had on cute little thong. yellow. his favorite. did you take them off? just for him? fuck, you know exactly how to drive him crazy, maybe you weren’t so innocent after all.

“would you like that?” he pulls you in closer, your bare cunt now flushed against his unfortunately clothed cock, drooling onto the cottony fabric of his dress pants.

and you smile, “i’d like anything you give me, kento.”

the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. twitching against you as he unbuckles his pants, the sound of metal clacking filling your ears and making you squirm against him, your pussy clenching around nothing needy for his thick cock.

he barely pushes them down, just enough to let his cock spring out, hissing when you move forward to press your sloppy, messy cunt against him. then he groans, grabbing at the back of your neck underneath your hair to make you watch as he slides in, forcing his cock past your puffy lips into your tight little hole.

you’re already hooked on the stretch. your jaw slacking open at how he fills you all the way up. your perv of a boss, slicking your walls with his precum.

“how — fuck, how long have you wanted to fuck me, hm?”

you press your hand against his chest, using it as leverage to roll and rock your hips against him.

“since i first laid my eyes on you, sweetheart”

[tusks-and-claws]

I’m Not What You Need (But I Am)

Miguel O’Hara x female reader

Summary:  “When you sit there/acting like you know me/acting like you only brought me here to get below me”

You have a concern to bring to Miguel, but when he hears what you really think of him, he doesn’t let you off so easily

Tags/warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, kind of missionary idk what to call it, dominant Miguel, brat taming, orgasm denial, dirty talk, choking, sort of strangers to lovers, maybe a little bit of a hatefuck if you squint, reader is a Spider person, def a bit out of character

Wordcount: 3.5k

Find on Ao3 here :3

"Why are you coming to me with such trivial annoyances?" Miguel O'Hara asked you from the platform of his lab, at least ten feet above you. He was tapping on various screens, not giving you eye contact. It felt purposeful, pointed. 

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to know when fights broke out. Keeping the peace and all that." You felt yourself growing warm, anxiety fluttering in your stomach. 

"What I want," he said, his tone growing short. "Is for people to sort out their own bullshit, so I can worry about what's important. Which, if you haven't noticed, is much bigger than you and I and some stupid fight in the lobby."

As soon as he said it, you knew he was right. But he was still being an asshole. You were only trying to help.

You put your hands up in defense. "I just thought you'd wanna know." Then whispered under your breath "douchebag," as you turned to walk away.

But your progress was halted by something tugging at your wrist. You looked down to see what it was, and closed your eyes, quietly cursing yourself. Neon red webbing. 

"You wanna run that by me again?" Miguel asked. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat. "Nothing, it was nothing. I'll just leave." 

You tried to pull free, but he was reeling you in, like a helpless fish on a hook. "Oh, no," he said, sounding somewhat amused. "No, I heard you. 'Douchebag,' eh? Not very creative. But…" he paused when you were closer, close enough that he could look directly down at you. "I want to hear you say it again. Face to face, this time."

You frowned. "How can we be 'face to face' when you're so high above me?"

He wagged a finger at you. "You've got a point there." In a sudden flash of tingling, your Spider sense triggered. But Miguel was too fast, he'd been doing this for far longer than you had. In an instant, you were wrapped in neon red and being hoisted upward onto the platform. He planted you right in front of him, putting his hands on his hips and leaning down so his eyes were level with yours. "Happy?"

You huffed. Why was he like this? A self-satisfied grin played at the edges of his plush lips as he scrutinized you with bloodshot eyes. Finally registering how close he was, and how huge he was, you started turning red. He could throw you around like you weighed nothing, couldn't he? He had just lifted you up here with hardly any effort. You'd never thought about another Spider like this. Sure, you were all strong, but there was something in Miguel's upper body that you couldn't free from your thoughts, something in those massive shoulders, something-

"Well?" He asked, breaking your trance. "I don't have all day."

You met his eyes. They looked so tired. You didn't want to insult him anymore. You wanted to leave and pretend like the thoughts you had about him never existed. 

But you knew what he needed to hear. 

"Douchebag," you repeated. 

He smiled, and it was humorless. "It's nice to know that this is what people think of me. That I did this for all of us, and everyone in our worlds. And the word that comes to mind when people talk to me is…?" He raised an eyebrow prompting you. 

"...Douchebag."

"That's right!" He pointed a finger at you. "I don't ask for much. I ask for people to listen and respect the operation. And that means respecting my time, too, eh? No more coming right to me with petty fights that people can solve on their own." 

You just stared back up at him, hardly registering his words. Respect time, no more fights, whatever. His hair looked so soft. 

"Got it?" He asked, starting to sound frustrated again. 

You nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

"G-got it." 

"Good." He patted your shoulder. What an odd gesture. It was very nearly caring. "Let's get you out of here." He flexed his hand, talons coming free. He quickly swiped at the webbing he had wrapped you in, the strands snapping and falling to the floor in shreds.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. His brow furrowed. "Listen, I know I'm scary, but I'm just doing my job."

You shook your head. "I'm- I'm not scared."

"Are you not? Dios mio, I can hear your blood pumping." 

His heightened senses were going to be your death sentence. The longer he stood staring at you, the worse your thoughts became. But you couldn't bring yourself to move away from his attention. You crossed your arms, trying to make yourself small so he would stop looking at you. 

He raised an eyebrow. "What, do you wanna be friends or something?"

No, you thought, I want us to be something different. 

Despite your best efforts, you blurted out, "no, in all honesty, I've never really liked you that much." Why did you say that? What was wrong with you? 

He cocked his head, his eyes widening, processing what you just said. He started to nod. "Oh, wow. Great. Thank you so much. What a productive conversation. And you're still here because…?"

"Because you getting the last word in is infuriating to me." You couldn't stop yourself. You knew this was bad, but you couldn't stop.

"How do you think I feel? You came here for the sole purpose of bothering me and now you won't leave me the shock alone." He pointed at you again, forefinger lightly jabbing your collarbone. "You. Can. Leave. This is my lab, you little brat." He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and you could just barely see his elongated canines, gleaming and sharp in the light of the lab's computer screens. 

Oh no.

You stood there, just blinking at him. You've never seen someone so annoyed looking so attractive at the same time. It wasn't fucking fair.

He suddenly started, the anger from his face vanishing, confusion taking its place. "Oh yeah?" He asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone. "That's why your heart is pounding?"

Fuck.

"What, uh… what do you-"

"Don't play dumb with me.” He placed a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. “I can smell that you're turned on. Is that why you came here to bother me? So you could gawk at me? And maybe I'd fuck you if you were lucky."

You backed up, nearly slipping off the edge of the raised platform. Miguel reached out and caught your hand, pulling you in close to him. Unconsciously, you splayed your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His body was so warm and inviting, and you were drawn into it like a little planet circling a blazing sun. 

What was happening, what were you doing?

"Is that what you thought?" He asked, seeming to echo the questions you asked yourself, his voice growing more quiet as he looked down at you.

You quickly raised your hands away from him, closing them into loose fists and crossing your arms again. "No," you said, truthfully. 

"But you're thinking it now." He nodded. "Aren't you?"

After a pause, you nodded too.

"I really need to hear you say it." He probed.

"I'm…. I'm thinking about it now."

"Oh, are you? Thinking about what?"

You swore under your breath, doing a poor job of hiding a scowl. You should've known he wasn't going to make it easy for you. 

"Thinking about you fucking me." You grimaced after admitting it, waiting for him to mock you and disown you. 

He smiled. "That's funny. I thought I was a douchebag." 

"Fuck you, man!" You threw your arms up into the air, turning around and preparing to hop down from the platform. 

“No no no, come on, now,” he said, grasping your wrist with a large, warm hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “Why don’t you give me a chance to change your mind?”

You looked him in the eyes, and there was a small spark there. You sighed, unable to deny the reaction your body had to him. You wanted him. And he was offering himself to you. What reality was this where that was even possible? Not ten minutes ago, you were hardly closer than strangers. “Okay,” you said, offering him a small grin. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, I won’t.” In another swift movement, he swept you up into his arms and laid you down on your back on the lab floor. He was above you, arms on either side of your head, boxing you in. You could hardly see anything past those vast shoulders. You swallowed. He raised one hand to your head, petting your hair. “Look at that. You really are so pretty. Couldn’t help thinking it even when you were pissing me off earlier.”

You furrowed your brow. “I thought you wanted to change my mind, asshole, is this-”

He cut you off as his hand lowered, skating down your side and brushing against your breast before traveling even further. You exhaled shakily, trying to prepare yourself for this. Miguel O'Hara was touching you. Miguel O'Hara was going to fuck you. 

When he reached the curvature of your hips, he fondly squeezed, humming to himself. "Soft… so soft. You wouldn't want an asshole like me to eat you out, would you?"

Your brain short-circuited at how blatant he was. "No, I- I would, I really fucking would, Miguel."

"Oh, are we on a first name basis, now?" He hooked a clawed finger into the fabric of your suit, ripping a huge gash into it so he could access you. That… that was your good suit. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep yourself from quipping back at him as he scooted downward, wrapping his arms around your thighs and lining himself up with your pussy. You threw your head back in anticipation, screwing your eyes shut. How was this real? How was-

You gasped as his tongue made gentle contact with your sex, slowly and carefully licking a long swipe from your opening to your clit, like he was savoring the first taste of you. 

"You taste even better than you smell, amor." 

Fuck, he was savoring you. You trembled beneath him, your hands tentatively reaching down to tangle with his hair. And it was even softer than you thought it would be. 

"That's it," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." 

You listened, your grip on his hair tightening. As if that were his cue, he brought his tongue back to your aching pussy, lapping at the wetness that was all but dripping from you. Your body immediately felt too hot on the metal floor, and you were convinced that you were beginning to melt under the warmth of his tongue. The almost-penetration was sending you spiraling; he was giving you nothing that you needed while somehow simultaneously answering your every secret desire. You needed that mouth on your clit. Your greedy, aroused body needed more, more. You had him all to yourself and he was teasing you. It wasn't fair. 

You whimpered as you gripped soft locks of his hair, waiting for him to take the plunge. Waiting…. And waiting. But he just kept lapping contentedly at your entrance, just barely dipping his tongue inside. The feeling was pleasant but infuriating. What was he trying to do? Did he want you to beg for it?

Oh.

…He couldn't be serious. 

But that was the only conclusion you could reach. After all, he'd been asking to hear you say things this entire encounter, prompting you to be vocal. All you had to do was swallow your pride. 

"M-Miguel…?" You asked, your voice quiet.

He stopped, picking his head up slightly, looking at you from under his thick brows. "Mm? What is it?"

"Please, um… please…." Your voice caught in your throat. Why was this so difficult?

"Oh, you're begging me now? What could you possibly be begging for… Isn't this what you wanted?"

You narrowed your eyes as he held your gaze with that lackadaisical expression. 

"Please," you started, feeling humiliated. "Please suck on my clit."

"Good girl. All you had to do was ask." In no time at all, his mouth was back on you. He zeroed in on your clit, taking the sensitive bundle of nerves into the wet warmth of his mouth, sucking on it just as you needed. The feeling was so intense and you couldn't suppress any of the noises that escaped you. And the noises he made didn't help in the slightest. He was humming as he worked your clit, the gentle vibrations of his voice adding to the overstimulation. He stopped for a moment to instead use his tongue, and the pointed attention was delicious.

"How are you feeling, amor?" He asked without fully pulling away from you, his voice slightly lisping from the contact. 

"Good," you gasped, feeling like you were getting close to the edge. "So, so good. Please keep going."

"Tell me when you're going to cum."

"Yes, yes I will." 

He continued his efforts, mercilessly devouring you, a cacophony of wet sounds rising to meet your ears. You could feel your orgasm building, your body singing. He was playing you like an instrument. That warm, pulsating feeling was building deep inside your core, threatening to burst apart with every second. 

Your grip on his hair tightened. "Miguel, I'm- I'm gonna-" 

Your back started arching and you closed your eyes as… nothing happened. He pulled his head away from you. You opened your eyes to see him looking at you from between your legs, one of his eyebrows raised. 

"Wha- what?" 

He smirked. "Oh, this? It's nothing... It's just that douchebags usually don't care about making women cum."

Your jaw dropped open. This again? You gritted your teeth, your clit swollen and thrumming with your pulse. You needed release. 

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice desperate. 

He raised his eyebrows, amused. "Oh, wow, that was fast." His tone was so matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry for calling you a douchebag and an asshole, I was wrong about you. Please let me cum." You spat the words out so quickly that you hardly registered what you were saying. 

"How could I say no to that?" He returned to you, gripping your thighs more firmly than he had before, shamelessly moaning into you as you started to curl up off the hard metal floor. Your orgasm was so close, it was right within your grasp. Your breath started going ragged as you held onto him for dear life. In a white hot burst of pleasure, you came, swearing loudly as Miguel drank up every bit of you, letting you ride your orgasm out on his skillful tongue. He slowed down right as you did, matching your pace perfectly until you were a heaving mess on the floor in front of him.

"My turn, now," his voice came through the fog, it sounded distant. But you could feel strong arms lifting you up and all but dropping you onto your back on one of the lab's computer consoles, its screen turning off in response. He dismissed a section of his high tech suit, his manhood coming free. You couldn't help but gawk at him. His body was unreal. From the small window he created, you could see hard lines of muscle carved into golden skin. Your head started spinning again. 

He began pumping his hard cock as he looked down at you, spreading your legs further open with his free hand. "See how easy it is to get what you want when you aren't being a brat?" The way his muscles flexed through his tight suit while he worked himself was maddening. You wanted- no, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him inside you. 

You nodded your head, answering his question. 

"So, tell me what you want." 

"I want you to fuck me," you answered, still panting from your orgasm. "I want to feel you so badly. Please, Miguel."

"You're a fast learner," he purred, bringing his cock to your folds and lubricating himself on the mess you two had made. He slid over your slick entrance, his head touching your aching clit as he moved up and down. "I'll fuck this pretty cunt for you, since you asked so nicely." 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you, inch by thick inch. You moaned, the feeling of finally being full was luscious, he was pressing at your walls from all angles. At last, when he was in up to the hilt, he stayed there for a moment while his large hands found your waist. 

"My God, look at you. You took all of me, and so shocking well. You," he exhaled, seemingly taking a second to compose himself. "You feel so good." 

"Thank you," you whispered, breathless. He was praising you. It was… nice to hear. Stubbornness be damned.

He chuckled to himself. "Please and thank you? You really do learn fast. You've earned this, amor." And with that, he pulled himself out of you, slamming back in with a hard slap. Over and over, he fucked you with the entire length of his cock, hitting spots inside of you that you weren't sure even existed. "Lemme hear you, I wanna hear it all."

You obeyed. "O-oh my God, Miguel, fuck. It's… it's so good. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you."

Thanking him fueled his fire; his grip on your waist tightening, red eyes sparkling wildly. "Good girl, that's it… watching my cock disappear inside of you… it's making me crazy. You like getting fucked by someone you hated before all this? You wanna get filled up by someone you don't even like?"

"Yes, please." Your back arched into him, the pressure from his unwavering thrusts overwhelming you. The feeling was impossibly perfect, your body tingling from your head to your toes. He really did fit inside of you so well.  

"You'll get it, baby. Keep being good for me, you'll get it." 

As he continued, his hands roamed your body. Groping at your breasts, resting on the soft slope of your stomach. You grabbed one of his traveling hands, a rogue feeling overtaking you as you brought it up to your throat. 

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Y-yeah? You want me to choke you?” He sounded excited.

“P-please,” you huffed, grabbing onto his forearm.

“Holy shit, you’re something else.” He began applying gentle pressure to your airway as he kept fucking you. It was the perfect amount of constriction; suppressing your breath intake just enough for your head to feel pleasantly airy. He was good at that, why was he so good at that?

Between the way he was pounding you and the way he was choking you, your muscles started to bear down on him.

"Yes, yes, squeeze that cock. Good girl. You’re gonna get what you want.” 

You clenched down on him, your orgasm rocking you to your core as he fucked you through it. It hit you in giant waves, crashing over you and pulling you into the undertow. You felt completely drunk on it. The warmth of it was everywhere in your body, all the way up to your fingertips. Your head swam, your eyes rolling back into your head. Miguel swore to himself, his tempo becoming more irregular. He released your throat, hands flying down to grip the console. You thought you could hear it cracking. 

“God, you’re tight. I’m gonna fill you up.”

“Yes,” you rasped, your body shaking. 

He growled as he came inside of you, bearing his fangs in clenched teeth once more, and you could feel his cock twitch followed by the heat of his seed as it stuffed you full. He lingered over you, his eyes looking frenzied as his gaze flicked over your face, his chest heaving with every recovering breath. 

You released a deep sigh, smiling tenderly at him. “Thank you, Miguel.”

“You, uh,” he started awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. He still hadn’t even pulled out of you yet. “You earned it,” he repeated. 

He took a short, unsure step back, as he pulled his length free from you. You could feel his cum leaking from you upon his release. There was so much of it. 

He held his hand out to you to help you up, and you grasped it, smiling again as you got to your feet. 

“I’ll clean this mess up, but you.…” He scanned your frame. “...I’ve got a pair of pants on one of the lab chairs down there.” He pointed toward a particularly cluttered section of his space. “Bringing them back would be a much better excuse to see me than a fight in the lobby.”

[yndrgrl]

yandere! bakugou uses you to get to someone else, but ends up falling for you instead

long ass fic. fem! reader. regular! au. enemies to lovers. lowkey crack! fic. tsundere! bakugou.

warnings: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, somnaphilia (idk how to spell it), degrading, bullying, spitting, public sex, hatefuck

a/n: requests are open :) (plz request something, idk what else to write about 😭)

---

"no." that's all you said. so flat, so robotic. that's all you wanted to say.

bakugou was a pushy man, however. "it wasn't a question."

"oh for real?" you gasped, putting both hands to your cheeks to show your faux shock. "no."

"listen, you're gonna help me win over uraraka-"

"no, i'm not, bakugou," you denied once more. you don't even know why he came to you in the first place. it was clear as day that uraraka had a major crush on izuku, & izuku liked uraraka just as much.

honestly, what surprised you the most is that bakugou even had a crush. i guess it makes sense that it would be on uraraka though.

"yes, you are because i have something over you," bakugou threatened lowly.

you scoffed, "oh, do you now?" there wasn't really much he could have over you that would make you help him-

he slammed a journal on the desk, a slam echoing throughout the library. it was your personal diary.

you lunged for your journal, but he snatched it & threw it into his bag. you screamed at him, "how'd you get that, you sicko?!" the only way he would've gotten that was by breaking into your dorm room.

"are you going to help me or not?"

yes, you could've bought a nicer, leather journal with handcrafted pieces of paper, glued recent pictures of your life & decorated the pages with washi tape, stickers, & colored markers, but you didn't want to start over yet. your journal is a year & a half old, every page nearly filled; it's a deep dive into your mind. every overwhelming event in your life, every good memory, every goal you strive to achieve is written down in that book. bakugou katsuki had that all in his possession.

that's why, two days after you found out what he has, you're sitting with your usual study group in your designated, outdoor study area-- plus bakugou. your bluetooth speaker played a playlist shared throughout the group. you sat on the edge with uraraka beside you & bakugou across from you.

"y/n," someone said, catching your attention; it was uraraka. "i didn't know you & bakugou were friends."

you wanted to laugh. you quickly told her, "we're not-"

"we're good friends," katsuki overlapped with his lie. his scowl upturned into the smallest smile when uraraka glanced up at him.

"oh wow, i had no idea! the two of you are so hard-headed, i wouldn't have expected the two of you to get along so great," she said back with a giggle. you loved uraraka, but she's too friendly sometimes.

bakugou, trying to play into the cool-bad-boy character, said, "yeah, well she makes it hard sometimes, but it helps when she has cute friends, i guess."

never in your life did you think you would hear big, tough bakugou flirt in your life.

they continued their conversation that you tuned out, rereading your notes & constructing plans on how to get your journal so you could expose him. everyone was invested in their own stuff. obviously, bakugou & uraraka were talking amongst themselves. momo was explaining to jirou & mina some math topic that they were sobbing about. tsu was on her laptop as she tried finishing a power point that was due the next day.

your chin was propped up by your hand, humming the song that started playing. "um, excuse me," a masculine voice called out. it caught the attention everyone at the table. you heard bakugou scoff, & you could only assume he rolled his eyes.

you looked up at the source of the voice. he was right in front of you, face red, cheeky smile. he was cute in the way that a puppy eager for a treat was. "you're y/n, right?"

"yeah, i am," you confirmed, matching his grin.

he introduced himself by saying his name & told you that he was in the hero-support program. he then said, "i just wanted to say that you're just really pretty."

compliments were one thing. compliments from complete strangers always messed you up though. "oh, th-thanks." you're so awkward.

"so like, maybe i could get your number, & we could go on a date or two?"

you glanced back at all your friends, who all had big smiles as a way of non-verbally saying, "get your manz, bitch!!"

bakugou on the other hand, had an expression of confusion & anger-- the anger was permanent though.

"i mean, i don't give out my phone number, but maybe we can snap or something?"

the guy nodded with enthusiasm, pulling out his phone to give you his username. "cool, well sorry for wasting your guys' time," the boy said to you friends before turning to you & saying, "i'll hit you up later?"

"can't wait," you replied back.

as soon as he was out of earshot, mina squealed, "oh my god! you're such a flirt!"

jirou teased, "you're so awkward, it's literally so funny."

"you're my pretty best friend," tsu croaked with a laugh.

"guys, nothing is gonna happen," you said with a blush. "i'm just gonna be his friend."

"how does it feel to be hit on for the first time, loser?" bakugou yawned, as if he's been hit on ten million times by fan girls & milfs or something.

mina retaliated, "what are you talking about? y/n gets hit on all the time!"

uraraka jumped in, "yeah, what's was that? guy number five?"

"y/n?" bakugou questioned, & all your friends nodded. "that thing? doubt it."

"what's there to doubt? you just saw it," you growled at him, he annoyed you so badly.

after that study session, he got uraraka's number like he hoped for, but he was more curious about you. he never realized until that day how often you do actually get men's attention. bakugou always assumed you were some bookworm, writer nerd who leeched off of his darling, uraraka for popularity & personality.

"i don't get it," bakugou muttered, staring at your figure across the cafeteria. he was surrounded by his friends, who all followed his gaze.

kirishima groaned, "dude, just ask uraraka out already." it was routine that bakugou would say something about how shitty nerd, deku, isn't good enough for her affections or how he would be a better match for her.

"no, it's not that," bakugou corrected, glare not breaking off of you. this caught kirishima, denki, sero, & mina -who sometimes sat with you as well- off guard.

"what are you talking about, bro," denki asked.

"i don't get it. she's not even that cute," bakugou scoffed, slouching back into the bench. his eyes finally tore away from you & awase from class 1-b.

"who?"

"y/n, i think," mina assumed, & when bakugou didn't deny it, they all knew she was right. "why does it even bother you?"

"it doesn't," he said, glancing back at you. awase left you, & in his place was the floating, fighting machine uraraka. he didn't feel the need to say anything about her though, but he felt like he had to. "she's weird, uraraka shouldn't even be friends with her."

"there it is," sero sighed, making all the others laugh.

"shut up," bakugou scowled at them. everyone was used to it, so they weren't that threatened.

"but seriously, bakubro, don't hate on y/n just cuz she's best friends with uraraka, & you're jealous," kirishima told him. he always did this to the blonde. he wasn't scared to tell him off.

bakugou, infuriated, yelled, "i'm not jealous of her, okay? it's just stupid how she has everyone wrapped around her finger, so don't be some dumb, y/n defenders. hop off her fuckin' dick."

"i'm just saying, man. she's super cool, has a useful quirk, & is an awesome fighter," kirishima said, holding his hands as a way to show he was backing down.

"if i were you, bakugou, i would be trying to be her friend," mina said.

mina's words played on repeat in bakugou's head for a week. it was driving him crazy. even though that bridge of being friends was already burned & he kept telling himself he doesn't care, he can't help but want to be closer to you.

he said it was all for uraraka in the end. after all, when they were texting the other day, she said that she would want a future partner to get along with her friends or else it'll be a deal breaker.

bakugou deduced that if he was on favorable terms with you that uraraka would fall for him-- & maybe you too. he felt himself physically jolt when he thought that. why in fucks name would he want you to fall for him? he thought for a second. it's not like he wants to be with you or anything, but he doesn't want you with anyone else.

he somehow found himself in front of your dorm door past curfew. bakugou, at this time, was usually asleep, dreaming about a life where him & uraraka lived happily ever after. however, tonight was different. he didn't feel like thinking about the short-haired brunette.

he doesn't even know why he's outside your door.

in his head, he rationalized that he just loves uraraka so much that he'd give up sleep to become your friend. it was such an urgent situation that he didn't even bother putting on shirt.

he fished in his sweatpants' pocket for a lock pick, the same one he used to break into your dorm the first time to steal your journal. bakugou jammed it into the lock, opening the door with ease. he shut the door carefully before stalking further into your room.

there you were on your bed. swaddled in your fluffy duvet, cuddling a stuffed animal. you must've felt his presence because your sleeping self started shifting & ended up kicking off your blanket. you ended up on your stomach, one leg crunched towards your side while the bottom leg laid straight. you faced away from bakugou.

his breath hitched, something inside him twitched. bakugou couldn't help but stare. he had to admit that you had the body of his dream girl. wait no, his dream girl was uraraka-

he cut his own thoughts off when he saw how your ass looked in that position. the blue hue from the moonlight flowed into the room because, for some reason, you felt no need to close your curtains. he could make the shape of you so clearly. he reached for you.

he told himself that he wouldn't be cheating on his soon-to-be lover. it's just a touch, a friendly touch that friends share with each other.

his fingertips ghosted over your exposed thighs. you were wearing nothing but thong & an oversized band tee. the gentle touches turned into full-palm caresses. her skin is so smooth, bakugou thought. he loomed closer to you, inhaling deeply. she smells so nice.

he climbed over you with the agility of a shadow. the bed didn't even creak. he kneeled over legs, & his hands found your plush ass. he kneaded your bare butt, shifting you so you were fully on your stomach. you remained unmoving; you usually take melatonin gummies right before bed anyways.

bakugou kept groping your ass while his cock hardened into its full length. his hands wandered, thumbs grazing over your entrance. he grasped you, & he spread your ass cheeks apart. you must be dreaming about something dirty because your thong was soaked.

bakugou readjusted himself so he was on level with your ass. "this is just what friends do," he hazily whispered to himself. "friends help friends get better."

he blew on the wet patch, watching your pussy twitch through your panties. bakugou waited for a second, trying to grasp at any sort of self-control but, when you subconsciously propped your ass higher for him, he couldn't help it. he mentally apologized to uraraka before he dove into your ass.

his tongue licked your clothed slit, & he felt how thin your thong truly was. he only got an inkling of what you tasted like, & he craved more. bakugou lapped you juices through your panties, dampening the light grey cloth into a darker shade. his jaw hinged open to allow his tongue to delve further down.

he found your clit through your thong. he pressed his tongue against you, & sleeping, unsuspecting you let out a moan. "oh fuck," bakugou whispered in response, diving back into your pussy.

he pulled your thong up. it rode higher in your ass, then the part the was covering your pussy disappeared between your lips.

he started eating you out again, groaning in pleasure when he finally got to touch your bare skin. he slurped your juices over & over.

bakugou didn't realize that he pulled his sweatpants & boxers down to his knees. he pulled away from your pussy, a string of your juices & his saliva connecting him to you.

on his knees, he positioned his big cock between your ass. a moment of clarity hit him, it wasn't right, he knew that deep down. you really didn't do anything to him.

your phone next to your pillow buzzed. he grabbed it, his hung cock still pressed against you. it was a message from uraraka that read, "wait what did you wanna tell me about bakugou earlier? you looked so concerned haha."

you were trying to tell him? what a fucking bitch, bakugou thought with pure hatred. you were trying to sabotage him with your words, your pretty little mouth, with your dumb, stupid body.

his rationality was once again thrown out of the door. uraraka would want me to show y/n her place, he thought. he climbed off of you. he had to show you what your mouth was meant for. your mouth wasn't meant for snitching, it was meant for sucking cock-- his cock.

bakugou turned your head & pulled it at the edge of the bed. thankfully, it's like your body already knew what was gonna happen, your mouth was already agape. he pushed his tip past your lips. your tongue lazily stroked against his length. he moved his dick in & out of your throat, & yet somehow you still remained motionless.

his control turned into animalistic thrusts, gagging you over & over, & you still stayed asleep. "fuckin' stupid bitch," he groaned, throwing his head back. your throat expanded with each thrust to accommodate his thickness & length.

spit & his precum spilled out of your mouth & onto your silk pillowcase. because you were sideways, his heavy balls slapped against your face, nose shoved into his pubes. you gargled & gagged in your sleep, but you still handled him so well.

his passionate angry finally swelled up & shot down your throat. even though he was cumming, he kept half-assed thrusting in your throat, coating every inch with white. all for uraraka, remember? because bakugou completely forgot what drove him to do what he just did.

the next day, as you entered the classroom, he heard you tell to uraraka about how the melatonin gummies really worked. "yeah, i was completely knocked out! i drooled so much, my pillow was drenched. it was disgusting."

"really? i know that they're good, but i never drooled that much. maybe you really needed that sleep."

as they passed bakugou's seat, uraraka waved at him with pink cheeks. "hey, bakugou."

"uraraka," he said back to her. he watched your smile drop into a frown, your eyes rolling. he was winning over uraraka, he knew that, but he didn't feel satisfied. he yearned the banter between the two of you more than uraraka's affections. "what was that, idiot?"

uraraka was shocked at first, thinking he was talking to her until she heard you shoot back, "shouldn't you be watching ochaco instead of me?" if he didn't know any better, it sounded like you were jealous.

"y/n, let's calm down," uraraka sheepishly suggested, but it only angered you more. why was she on that weirdo's side? why wasn't she on your side? even after you told her what he did to you, she didn't even care; in fact, she seemed flattered.

"yeah, calm down," bakugou chimed in with that disgusting, cocky smile, "go in the back & drool all over your desk."

"eavesdropping now? you really are obsessed," you huffed, marching towards your desk that was, in fact, in the back of the classroom. you thought uraraka was right behind you, but by the time you turned around to sit in your chair, you noticed her take a seat next to bakugou.

the bell rang, & in rolled your sleepy teacher, mr. aizawa. he called roll, held an hour long lecture while you took notes, then assigned a 4-page essay with three sites sources. after he was done, he questioned, "now that we're done with that, what is happening today?"

iida's hand shot up along with his entire body.

"go ahead, iida."

"the 1a students from ketsubutsu academy are training with us today." oh right, you completely forgot about that. you were not in the mood to socialize with those uptight, cocky rich kids today. even though you took the melatonin gummies the night before to ensure a goods night sleep, you got everything but that. you felt like you were melting all night, & now you just felt restless.

"good, iida is correct," mr. aizawa confirmed. "they're already waiting in training facility a, so get dressed & be there in 10 minutes."

"yes sir!" & they all scurried out of the classroom.

your entire class entered the facility in their hero costumes. like mr. aizawa said, the visiting students were already there, stretching & warming up. mr. aizawa, once he noticed his entire class, announced that on the white board was everyone's names & assigned training group for the day.

everyone, including the other class, crowded around the board to find their names. "y/n!" your best friend, who you were extremely pissed off at, cheered. "we're all in the same group!" we... all?

you look at uraraka to see who she was referring to. "it's just my luck," you groaned, of course it was bakugou. "i just had to be put in a group with you!" you wanted to shout at everyone. you wanted to shout at uraraka for being swooned by a creep, you wanted to yell at mr. aizawa for putting you in a group with bakugou, & you wanted to scream, jump, yell, & hit bakugou over the head with a bat just for being the aggravating, prideful bastard he is.

"we just had to have a weak fuckin' nerd in your group?" he said to uraraka, but glanced to his side to meet your eye. your fuming expression really got him going. "there's no one more annoying than you-"

"are you y/n?" someone questioned. that just be the last person in your group.

you looked up at him, & with a half-hearted smile, you said, "i am."

"nice, i'm in your group," he told you, "i'm yo shindo. & i must admit, i was not excited for this whole group training thing until i saw a pretty girl like you was in my group."

oh, so he was a flirt? honestly, you didn't mind at all; you needed something to distract you & what's a better distraction than a buff playboy?

"honestly me too, but i think it'll be fun with you," you said back, but you overthought what you said. was it cringy?

bakugou was watching the whole exchange, brows furrowed, vein popping through his skin on his forehead. uraraka noticed, & because with the new-found knowledge that bakugou really liked her, she stroked his arm & asked, "are you okay?"

he looked at her with the same look of anger, now mixed with discomfort, & shrugged her off. "yeah, i'm fine."

he turned his attention back to you & shindo. bakugou's hands sparked ever so suddenly when he took in the scene in front of him. you were eating up all of shindo's praises & brags. your hands tried to squeeze around his biceps but you just couldn't connect your hands. "wow, your muscles are so big~ you must be strong."

"of course i am, i gotta be so i can impress pretty girls like you after all," he winked at you. for a moment, you glanced at bakugou, feeling his harsh glare, & he looked like he was about to explode. you didn't know why though, doesn't he have what he wanted already? he has uraraka right there, & yet he's still mad at you. he still owes you your journal too, so the two of you were not on good terms.

"sorry, i didn't mean to get carried away," you told shindo, pulling your hands away.

as the two of you walked towards uraraka & bakugou, shindo said, "i don't mind, you can touch me wherever, whenever."

you couldn't help but laugh out loud. "god, you're such a flirt!"

"you seem to love it though-"

"y/n, would you stop being a hoe for one second & train like you're supposed to?" bakugou said to you, hands stuffed inside his pockets, looking so nonchalant. you blinked a moment, & you waited for uraraka to say something or to rush by your side. she didn't do any of that

all she said was, with a giggle & eyes staring at bakugou, "that was mean." yeah, it was. it really was. the tips of your ears burned in humiliation, your palms became sweaty, & your breathing was uneven. after uraraka was done ogling bakugou, she looked at you, & her eyes widened. never in her entire childhood friendship did she see that expression on your face.

"dude, i don't know who think you are, but don't talk to her like that," shindo said, stepping forward & slightly in front of you. your tense shoulders relaxed just a bit-- someone is in your corner.

the amused bakugou turned pissed off when your new, little boy-toy went to your rescue, even though he knew you didn't need rescuing. "h-hey, let's save it for training, yeah-"

"i'll talk to y/n however i want, damn weak fuck," bakugou replied, copying his movements & stepping forward. "you're just like her: fucks anything that moves, huh?"

"bakugou-"

"that's it!" you shouted as you shoved bakugou away from shindo. the three of them -bakugou, uraraka, & shindo- were shocked to say the least. he pushed you too far all for entertainment & some obsession. "you're such a goddamn coward, you know that? all you are is a bully who's play-pretending to be a hero! you're such a control freak that, even after you stole my best friend, you still need to have something over me, so you won't give me back my stupid journal. & worst of all, you just stare & glare & act like i'm scum when you're the actual piece of shit! & you're not even ashamed! you want everyone to know! i hate you so much!"

after your tangent/rant, you walked away, quirk firing left & right. you didn't need to hear whatever bakugou was going to say next, it was probably be something so degrading that winds up in her next journal entry.

the three of the gawked at you, watching you walk straight to the state-of-the-art punching bags. uraraka was the first to speak. "i'll talk to her. i've never seen her that... mad. it was like she was a whole new person-"

"you guys are terrible classmates. there was no reason to say any of that. i'll go talk with her," shindo cut uraraka off. before either of them could do anything, bakugou was already strutting towards you, gauntlets sparking.

"who does she think she is?" they heard him utter. they were out of earshot, however, when he said, "making me fuckin' hard then walking away. damn tease."

he caught up to you in no time. you were almost to the punching bags when he grabbed your wrist, his hand was warm & a stinging sensation engulfed your wrist.

uraraka & shindo watched as the two of you screamed at each other, you shoving him, him glaring at you, you throwing a piece of your costume at him. honestly, it would've been comedic if it wasn't for bakugou pressing your buttons.

"what are they? toxic exes or something?" shindo questioned as they began to walk towards the fighting two.

"oh, no, not at all! i would've known," uraraka told him, "they're just... um... friends i think. maybe enemies."

"i can tell that much."

when the actual training began, you & bakugou tried to separate from each other. you were paired with shindo & him with uraraka. but, because of the conditioning & the way today's training was set up, it was inevitable that you two would interact again.

like at lunch, the two of you sat across each other at a table, eating your lunches. you didn't bother speaking, you didn't even want to see bakugou ever again, after all.

or at the water fountain, when he said, "hurry up." & so you took longer, even though you weren't thirsty anymore.

or when you had to rotate partners & bakugou was your only option. the two of you, against the rules, threw quirk-backed attacks each other.

& that's how you two ended up being excused early. while everyone else was getting better, you were locked out & forced to change back into your school uniform, & the only person with you was bakugou.

when you left the changing room, he was leaning against the wall-- almost like he was waiting for you. "you done being mad at me?"

"no, i'm not, & i'll never stop being mad at you," you said, walking right past him. he followed close behind you.

"listen, i didn't mean to embarrass you. i didn't know you'd get so pissy."

"what did you think was gonna happen?!"

"i don't know, okay?" the two of you were yelling at this point.

"you have ochaco, can you please just give me my journal & leave me alone? you two can be happy far, far away from me," you said, cursing yourself for choking up. you mentally prepared for the teasing & "witty" comebacks bakugou had in store.

instead, he asks, "are you jealous?"

"what?"

"are you jealous?"

you scoffed, opening the door to the dorm building. "don't flatter yourself, big guy."

"i'm being serious," he said to you as he leaned on the counter. you were so hungry that you didn't really care bakugou was watching you cook. "because i was."

"what are you getting at, bakugou?" you asked, putting a pot of water on the stove, bringing it to a boil.

"i was so jealous today," he said.

"of what?"

"of damn shindo kid," he responded back. your angered expression contorted into a puzzled one as you looked up at him. when you didn't reply, he continued, "if i knew stupid one liners got your attention, i would've been doing that sooner."

you couldn't believe what you were hearing. the guy who's been making the past few months hell was confessing something you never expected. "what about ochaco, hm? i thought you needed her to breath or something."

"yeah, i guess i liked her at first, & that's why i needed your help," he admitted. he then fished a journal, your journal, out of his bag & stood up. he walked towards you, hand outstretched with your beloved diary in his grasp. you reached out for it when he lifted it above your head with a taunting smirk. "but then i realized that i wanted you this entire time."

--nsfw starts here--

"you're just saying stupid things to get a rise out of me, bakugou," you rolled your eyes at him. you placed a hand on his chest as you jumped for your journal, fingers touching it ever so lightly. it was just out of reach.

you thought you had it, he brought the notebook down. however, you didn't have it. he threw it on the counter behind you, & the hand the was holding it snakes around your waist. his other hand grabbed your face, stroking your cheek as he kissed you.

you don't know why, but you found your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. without breaking your lips apart, he pushed you against the counter, pinning you between his two arms now. his tongue, the tongue that craved you since that unknown night, licked your lips before fighting yours for dominance. his thigh was between your legs. he pressed your core against him, & you moaned.

bakugou shut off the burner during your kiss. he was expecting the two of you to escape into his room, but when you threw off his tie & unbuttoned his shirt eagerly, he knew he needed you right then & there.

the two of you broke your kiss, & he placed his head in the crook of your neck. "you get off on making me jealous, don't you? that's why you were flirting with stupid shindo?"

"wh-whatever, you jerk. you act like you weren't basically grinding on ochaco in front of me all the time?"

bakugou laughed into the nape of your neck. "grinding? all we did was talk."

"same fuckin' thing," you growled in frustration.

"i didn't know you were so jealous of her."

"oh, fuck off, asshole," you said. you were quickly shut up by him biting your sensitive spots all over your neck, sucking & licking to create hickeys.

he took off your tie & ripped open your shirt. he unhooked your bra, throwing it god knows where. "take this fuckin' thing off," he uttered, helping you out of your torn clothes.

"h-hey!"

"shut up, & take it. i'll buy you a new one," he said before fondling your breasts. you bit your lip as your grinded against his meaty thigh. your wetness, even though you had panties on, began staining his slacks.

"bakugou~" you whispered, voice shaking.

"it's katsuki tonight, dummy," he told you, turning you around & bending you over the counter. you brushed your journal out of the way as you pressed you tits onto the cold, granite countertop.

with three fingers, he pinched your pussy through your panties so his middle one snuck in between your lips. "stop being a tease & fuck me already." if only you knew.

"be patient, woman," scowled katsuki, smacking your ass. he set of small sparks when he hit your cheek. "you can't take this cock yet. i'm doing you a goddamn favor."

you doubted him, you really did. he was so cocky & arrogant, how could you not? "i can take your tiny dick any day, don't underestimate me."

katsuki let out a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "you really think so, dumb bitch?" he unclicked his belt, dropping his pants & boxers around his ankles. he started to grind against your ass, & you swore up & down it felt like deja vu.

you gasped as you felt his length between your ass. you've had dreams about cocks that big, sure, but you didn't know they actually existed. "wh-what the fuck?"

"what? still think you take me? still think i'm tiny, sweetheart?" katsuki taunted as he took off your panties. he pressed your thighs around his cock, the base of it stimulating your swollen clit. he thrusted gently; it was so against his brash, aggressive character.

you were not one to back down, so at least you stayed true to your character. "yeah, i can take your skinny ass dick-" you were cut off by katsuki spreading your ass & shoving his girthy length into your throbbing heat. you screamed, tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to adjust to him.

he wouldn't let you though. katsuki, once inside your tight pussy, started pounding you. he shoved his cock head into your g-spot over & over, making you quiver & pulsate around him. "sl-sl-slow d-down!" you begged between thrusts. in response, he pulled your head back with your hair. you arched uncomfortably; your pelvis was still against the edge of the counter, but your head was pulled so far back that you could see katsuki's face.

"you think you're all that? you think you can just flirt with all these other guys in front of me? you fuckin' slut," he spat into your mouth, not that it mattered since it mixed with your drool & fell out of your mouth & onto your cold body. "i own you now. i own this mouth, i own this pussy, i own this ass, i own you."

"f-f-"

"c'mon, pathetic whore. say it."

"fuck y-you, katsuki." oh, you were a brat through & through clearly.

katsuki has had enough of your retaliation. you were supposed to be a brainless bimbo begging for more, yet here you were, surprising him again. any bit of consciousness you had, he was going to fuck out if you.

he, without pulling out, let go of your hair & made you stand up. he grabbed both your legs & hoisted you into this air. his hands found their way behind your head, & you couldn't move. you were nothing more than a cum dumpster to him now. "you know, if anyone walks through that door, they're gonna see you folded in half, tears streaming down your face with my cock balls deep in your dripping pussy, & they'd realize how much of a slut you are, & they'd know that you're all mine."

you didn't mean to, but your pussy clenched around his cock tighter as more of your juices squirted onto the linoleum floor. "oh, you like that, princess?"

you moaned in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he praised you. "aw, how pathetic. you must love when i call you cute nicknames & tell you how good you're doing." with whatever head movement you had, you nodded.

"that's a shame because you've been nothing but dirty, i can't treat you like a good girl until you deserve it."

"p-please! i'll do anything!" you cried out, then you started twitch uncontrollably around him. a white, hot wave of pleasure washed over you as you creamed all over his cock. he wasn't done yet, he still abused your cervix, making you beg for him to stop, or at least slow down.

his thrusts turned rapid as he started to groan about how you were all his, how he wasn't going to let any other man look at you, how he would be the only one you ever think about. you knew that was all true. "y/n, you fuckin' bitch, i hate you & your pretty, little face. take it all," he yelled as he unloaded his load into your tight pussy.

you screamed in overwhelming pleasure, squirting all over him once again. the two of you caught your breaths. he set you down once his cock finally stopped twitched, & he spun you around to embrace you. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i promise i'll be the best boyfriend in the world, just give me a chance. i know we're enemies or whatever, but i don't wanna be that anymore, & i don't want to be whatever this is; just fucking like we hate each other then go our separate ways." you've never seen this side of katsuki before.

"i-i'd like that, i'd like to be your girlfriend."

you hated him. you hated how he made you feel. you hated how he infected your mind, how he ruined you for any other man. you hated how you knew you needed him.

[ghostsstolemymoxie]

A request here for smut! enemies to lovers hot hate sex on a mission then people over the intercom back at the mansion here oops 🤭

AHHH OK I love this ideaaaa, just hoping I did it justice <3

【You're so gorgeous - then you start talkin'!】

Logan x F! Reader - Enemies to lovers: Hatefuck edition Divider credit @cafekitsune Tags: No use of Y/n, explicit content (18+, MDNI), unprotected p in v (be smarter than Logan and reader folks), rough sex, spitting, unintentional voyeurism, accidental exhibitionism Please don't click read more unless you're over 18 and willing to see 18+ content and the above tagged content. WC: 3k words

"He's the most arrogant, boorish, misogynistic, vile bastard I have ever met in my life!" You hissed down the comms, trying very hard to hide the scowl etched into your features. "Yes, but he's also your partner on this mission," Ororo replied, calmly, her voice crackling somewhat as it travelled into your ear through the wireless bud for your communications.

All around you, all you could hear was chatter, laughter and bawdy noises.

Serves you right, really. After all, you'd been so desperate to get back into the swing of things and get onto the missions since your injury, you had begged Charles to assign you the next mission, not even caring what it was.

Lo and behold, it leads to you and Logan being sent out on an intel-gathering mission at a casino just by the Canadian border. All you needed to do was listen out for some plan to do with Sentinels being built. Charles had been stingy with the details, though you weren't quite sure why. You supposed he'd given the brief more to Logan - the experienced X-man.

As though summoned by your distasteful thoughts, Logan soon joined you in the casino, already holding a glass in his hand. Whiskey, no doubt, with plenty of ice. He stepped up alongside you, glancing you up and down and taking in your black-tie attire with a smirk on his face. "You scrub up nice. Makes sense. You're only here as arm candy." He grumbled, taking a sip of his whiskey. In truth, it was a wonder that his muscles didn't burst free from the white suit he was wearing, but this was no time for gawking at the wonderful body attached to this awful man. "Has anyone ever told you that you're the worst person they've ever met?" You mock, even as you follow him to one of the tables. "Has anyone told you that you've got a smart mouth? That's not an attractive quality in a lady, y'know." Logan's retort was fast and icy, barbed in a way that only Logan's tone could be.

"Both of you, you need to focus on gathering intel, not on bickering." It was Scott's turn this time, shrill down the comms as he made sure that both of you heard. From the scowl on Logan's face, he heard perfectly.

A friend of Bolivar Trask was on the roulette table tonight - and apparently, he got loose lips after enough scotch. So, Logan took his seat at the same table, keeping his head down and focusing on looking inconspicuous, whilst you lingered at his side, playing the part of the pretty girlfriend attending alongside her man. Logan chugged the rest of his whiskey, holding out the glass to you. "Get me another one, won't you sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. God, that was the worst word he could use for you. It only made you angry. He had that stupid smirk on his face, too, that said he only knew how mad it made you. Despite his mockery though, you kept your composure, putting a smile on your pretty, painted lips. "Sure thing, hun." You said, leaning in, feigning a kiss on his cheek as you whispered: "Call me sweetheart again, and I'll cut your dick off."

He replied only with a scoff, as you headed to the bar, a scowl plastered on your face. The only way you knew it was because you glimpsed it in the mirror whilst waiting to be served. Once seen, it was schooled quickly, though that didn't stop a passerby from noticing.

Whilst you waited for the bartender, idly listening over your comms to hear whatever was being said at the roulette table, you barely noticed his presence, until he sided up right alongside you. He was a handsome guy, though regrettably not as handsome as your begrudging date for the evening, who remained at the table, unaware.

"Now, what could possibly make such a pretty face look so grumpy?" He asked, cooing the words so condescendingly. "I'm not grumpy." You reply, sourly, before forgetting that whilst you can always hear on comms, they can always hear you. A creak across the room sounds as Logan turns to look at you, and a look of something spreads across his face at the sight of the younger man quite obviously coming onto you. You didn't know what that something was, but it lit a strange, desperate spark in your stomach for just a brief moment.

Still, you needed to deal with the interloper first, so you turned back to him. "I'm kind of in a rush. I'm just here to get my partner a drink." "Partner, huh?" He chuckled. "I get it. Long-term relationship but no ring… has he convinced you that being partners is just as good as being married?"

He had clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick, though it was probably more your fault for saying partner rather than boyfriend. "It's not like that." You reply, trying to think of the best phrasing to get him to just leave you alone. "Then what's it like, gorgeous?"

The moron was grinning, missing the point as if he was a professional. All you could do was just roll your eyes and try to catch the bartender's attention. Sooner rather than later.

As you turned to speak to the bartender, the guy spoke up again, this time laying a hand on your arm as he did so. "Come on, Honey, you can tell me. I've been told I'm a wonderful listener. I've had my shoulders wet once or twice. I've got something else I'd love for you to get wet too."

The crudeness wasn't lost on you, and the thought of doing anything with this guy made your nose crinkle in disgust. But before you could reply with anything, you felt the guy's grip get snatched off of you as another, larger hand slid its way around your waist.

"Somethin' I can help you with, bub?" Logan's voice rumbled from behind you, and it clearly rattled the other guy to be challenged by him. After all, Logan was 300 lbs of muscle and adamantium and had the mug of a mean bastard to go with it. Even if that mean bastard was ruggedly handsome and carved from the finest Canadian oak.

You could have defended yourself. You knew this easily, and you were certain Logan did too, though the intensity of his gaze whilst he stared down the other guy forced a needy sensation in your core, betraying any lingering sense of feminism you had.

"No, just talking to the lady here." The guy replied, as politely as he could muster up, despite the fact he was no doubt shitting his pants. "Botherin' her, more like." Logan scoffed. "That cologne of yours is vile, by the way. You should probably try and wear something that doesn't smell like shit next time you try and flirt with a lady. Especially one who's spoken for."

The guy stammered, tripping over himself in trying to respond, his eyes running from you, then back to Logan, lips flapping comically but with no sound coming out.

Logan took this opportunity to tug you away from the bar instead. "C'mon, Sweetheart. Let's go have a talk." He snarled. "Logan, what are you doing? You need to focus on the meeting! Now is not the time for it!" Scott's voice down the communicator was cut off when Logan tore his out of his ear and yours as well (though he was uncharacteristically gentle as he plucked it from your ear).

He stuffed them both in his pocket, dragging you past the roulette table and the blackjack and into the men's bathroom. A single cubicle, with a lock on it that he immediately clicked shut the second that you were both in.

"What the Hell are you thinking?" You snap up at him, tearing your arm from his grip. Logan didn't reply instantly. His nostrils were flared, his beautiful mouth twisted in a vicious sneer and his whole body vibrating with the kind of energy that was more animal than human. His arms were tense, you could see the seams of his jacket nearly fraying at the effort, whilst those Hazel eyes of his burned into yours.

"I'm thinkin' about how furious I am." He snarled in reply, after a moment to think. "I'm thinkin' about how idiotic you are for even strikin' up a conversation with that guy in the damn first place. I'm thinkin'…" One tantalising step forward, and all of a sudden you were braced against the tiled wall. Thankfully the casino was clean, or at least looked it. Logan loomed over you, his breath heavy and stuttering, and for a moment you wondered if he had finally snapped and was going to drive those claws of his into your chest and finally be done with it. "I'm thinkin'… Dammit, that dress is good on you."

You blink, a few times as you look up at him, trying to confirm that you'd heard him correctly, that his eyes truly were raking down your body like that and not that you'd just dreamed it.

"Logan-" "Shut up." He snapped, cutting you off. "Just… shut up. Stop talking. God, you're so gorgeous and then you start talkin'!"

Despite your indignation, you didn't get a chance to reply. In moments he had gripped at your ass, squeezing full handfuls and lifting you from the ground, only to move you, seating you along the counter where the sink was, his eyes burning into yours all the while. He dropped you onto the counter with a thud, and in moments he was ruching up the fabric of your dress, the fabric slipping upwards from your ankles up to your mid-thigh. Hastily, you tried to tug it back down but he was far stronger, and it was a better option to have the dress lifted than torn, especially considering you'd both need to head back out to the floor. Now that there was a little give, he burrowed his strong thigh between your own, until his body was firmly planted between your knees.

"God, what am I doing?" He groaned, hanging his head, his hands planted on either side of your hips, trapping you in place. "You don't want this. You hate me as much as I can't stand you. But… I can't take this anymore. The… the tension, the burning, the need. The ache." His voice trembled as he spoke, his shoulders jerking with his difficult breaths.

As if all at once, you seemed to realise his intention here. He wanted you. Needed you. In a way almost primal and carnal, that seemed completely separate to the mission, or their usual distaste of one another.

A searing hot coil tightened in your gut, pulsating with desperation you didn't know you had in you. It had been a while, that much was for certain. 6 months? A year? Longer? Too long, by all measures. Too long since you'd shared your body with someone so vulnerably, so intimately.

And God, how you longed to share it with Logan.

"Shove me away." He demanded. "Shove me away. Smack me. Tell me I'm a brute and a bastard and you don't wanna fuck me. Do it. Because if you don't, I'm not stopping, mission be damned."

Instead, disobedient to his pleading, you slid your hands up his chest, feeling every ridge and valley even through his tuxedo. There were no words shared, no refusals or acceptances. Only a gentle touch between the fiercest of enemies.

His eyes flared, bright and incensed, and in moments he had shrugged off his jacket, tossing it haphazardly backwards, not caring where it landed, before dropping to his knees.

His hands planted themselves defiantly on your inner thighs, holding them open as he brought his face towards your core, whilst your needy fingers kept your skirt bunched up and out of his way. Logan didn't even bother to pull your panties aside, at first. He pressed chaste kisses at first to the seam of your womanhood, feeling how it slicked at his attention, enjoying the way you reacted to his attention, the way the scent of your desire seemed to permeate the air around him from every angle. He hummed into his kisses as well, the vibration only making that coil in your gut tighter. At the attempts to close your thighs, he only snarled, his grip getting firmer as he held them apart, shooting a glare up at you as if to warn you that if you didn't stop, he wouldn't keep going.

You relaxed your thighs, and he quickly crooked a finger around the gusset of your panties, tugging them to the side, taking in the sight of you with a cocked, eager eyebrow.

"You got a pretty pussy, sweetheart. She's a needy thing, huh?" He teased, before toying with his thumb, running along the seam a moment before holding you open, just in time for him to dive in again.

He kissed you as if he wanted to devour you like a hound starved for days on end would lap at the sweetest, most delicious meal. Quickly, he shrugged your thighs onto his shoulders, holding you against his face, as he slung one arm around you, holding your thigh in place on him and sliding his hand over the plane of your hip before he began to rub at your swollen clit, whilst his tongue diverted his focus to your weeping honeypot.

There couldn't be a finer sight anywhere in the world. You didn't care you were in a casino bathroom, or that you were meant to be working tonight on an important mission. Life or death meant jack shit compared to the sight of Logan kneeling between your legs and devouring you. He even seemed to hum in delight as your hand tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, nearly drowning him in your need.

He pulled back a moment later, strings of your desire still connecting you to his lips, before he swiped them away, licking them from his fingers.

At your whine, he only scoffed. "You don't finish anywhere but on my cock. You understand me?" He grumbled, standing up again, and unfastening his trousers, letting them and his boxers fall in a puddle on the floor in one swift, easy movement. When you glanced down, you could see he was already at full mast. Larger, thicker, veinier than any you had ever had before. It throbbed in his hand, with 3 beads of precum already leaking down his shaft. He palmed himself a moment, letting out a groan, holding his head in line with your clit as he rocked back and forth, gently. Just enough to soak himself in you.

"Mmm… I don't think you're wet enough." He grumbled, a smirk on his face. You were dripping on the counter, you could feel that already, so you knew he was lying, leading up to something. "So what are you gonna do about it?" You ask, locking your gaze with his own.

He pumps his fist along his cock still as he grins back at you, not averting his gaze as he spat, a thick glob of saliva landing right where his cock met your cunt. He smeared it on himself, on you - on where you both would soon become one - and he chuckled. "I always wanted to spit on you. Never thought you'd get so red from it." "I'm not red from tha-" You went to protest, but before you could finish, he had bucked, his entirety sheathed inside of you in one agonisingly ecstatic movement. All of him was buried in your warmth, and your walls shuddered around him. You didn't know which one of you had let out that moan - but you had a sneaky feeling it was both of you.

Your hand gripped his shirt, holding onto the fabric tightly, seeking to anchor yourself however you could, feeling how your body pulsated around him, acclimatising to his invasion. "Fuck," He cursed, resting his forehead on your shoulder, forcing himself to remain in place, not moving until you'd gotten used to him. "What, has it been so long since you've had a dick you re-virginised? You're so tight…" He ground his hips against your own, not yet pulling out, but making sure to give you that friction that brought another moan from your lips. "This pretty pussy's been needing a stretch. Don't worry, Princess, I'll give her a workout."

With that, he pulled back, each inch that he rescinded leaving you clenching down on nothing, feeling desperate without him. Against your will, you whined, tangling your fist further in the fabric of his shirt, urging him back again. Even after pulling out so slowly, he bucked in fast, torturous and barbaric in his speed. He bucked so hard that your entire body jolted with the collision between you, but he pulled back as if he wanted to watch you crying at the loss of him.

"What's the matter, Princess? You look about ready to sob." He mocked, before grunting as he thrust back in, just as hard, and you cried out in your mixed delight and pleasure. "You're the worst," You retort, through gritted teeth, trying to maintain your brain function even as every slight movement of his cock penetrating you seemed to make you want to melt into him, drooling and moaning like a moron who knew nothing other than taking Logan's cock. "Am I?" He purred in return, grinding his teeth as he let out three sharp thrusts in succession, robbing you of your breath as you forced your nails into his chest, drawing a groan of animalistic delight from him.

"Sounds to me like you're 'boutta cum, Princess. If I'm the worst… maybe I'll just stop." "No!" God, your voice sounded so breathy as it echoed back around the room, and Logan lit up at the sound. "No?" He parrotted, lips pursed and eyes amused, before he tutted. "No what? Use your words." "No, don't stop." "You don't want me to stop. 'cause I'm not the worst, right?" "N-not the worst…" You repeated. "Not the worst. Good girl, Princess. I'm the man who's 'boutta make you cum all over my cock, ain't I? I'm the best I am at what I do. And what I do is fucking girls like you 'til you're stupid. Right?"

By now your tongue had gone numb. You couldn't form a word in your mind, let alone in your throat or mouth. Instead, all that passed your lips were gasps and mewls and needy moans, as you forced yourself to nod, trying to get your point across.

It seemed Logan was too far gone as well, as he grinned down at you, feral and angry and delighted.

He leaned in, pressing heated, feverish kisses all over your neck, up and along the column of your throat before his forehead rested on yours.

"Fuck, Princess. I'm not gonna last much longer…" He panted out, his thrusts becoming faster and faster, no longer taunting you, and instead chasing his peak. His free hand reached down as well, his fingers splayed over your womb whilst his thumb played with your red, sensitive clit, eliciting another loud moan from you.

"Where'd you want it?" Logan snarled. "Tell me, and fast before I… ngh." He bucked, his movements sloppy and desperate. You longed for his warmth inside of you. To feel him spill and buck and ride out his afterglow whilst still nestled in your perfect pussy. To watch the look on his face as he pulled out and saw his own seed oozing from you. "Inside," You demand, the only full word you've managed in a long while. "P…please… inside. Inside." "Wish is my command, darlin'." He grunted out.

His lips crashed against your own, tasking of whiskey and pine and your own sweet nectar, the sensation of receiving a kiss from Logan so tender and desperate finally being enough to tip you over that final cliff.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, tugging him closer, as your pussy fluttered all around him, milking him for all he was worth, as a wave of white-hot euphoria rolled over your mind. Your moans were swallowed by Logan's mouth, as he kept kissing you, letting his own moans and grunts escape as well, the shared sounds of your pleasure rumbling in the caverns of your mouths. "Just like that." He rumbled, between open mouth kisses, murmuring into the plush flesh of your lips. "Cum all over me baby. Make my fuckin' day."

You barely even felt the sensation you'd so longed for as Logan buried himself as deep as he could inside of you, spilling every drop of his cum inside of you, whilst you squeezed every ounce he was worth, the pair of you riding out your orgasms at once.

It took a few seconds for you to catch your breath. Both of you had heaving chests and red faces. Logan pulled free from your lips, though not before offering one teasing, apologetic lip to the seam of your mouth, as though to apologise for kissing so hard and leaving you swollen.

You slid an arm around his shoulders, a silent plea not to pull away, as you pulled him in for one more kiss.

But he froze halfway, and glanced down at his trousers, his eyes growing wide and his jaw tensing.

"Logan? What's the matter?" You ask, leaning forward and glancing down as well, brow furrowed. "I didn't mute the comms." He replied, bluntly.

Didn't mute the comms. The comms that had been in his pocket, and would have picked up their activities.

"Get back to the blackbird, you two. Now. Before you're kicked out of the casino." Scott's voice, tinny and furious, escaped the two comms, even from where they were buried in Logan's discarded trousers. "And don't think for a moment you're not going to be punished for this."

Logan chuckled, reaching down to fasten his trousers back on, returning his gaze to you. "I dunno about you, Princess… but I don't care if I get punished. We're doing that again on the way back. C'mon."

You slid your panties and your dress back into place, stood from the counter and took his hand, heading out of the casino with him, already brimming with excitement for round two - this time with muted comms.

I hope you enjoyed and hope I did this justice - I've not really written enemies to lovers before so this was super fun <3 Feedback is super appreciated so please let me know if you enjoyed!! If you're interested, my requests are open so please feel free to send me any questions, ideas or headcanons you'd like me to explore (please just make sure you've read my pinned post first) TYSM for reading and hope you enjoy <3

[ginevrapng]

Can I request something with remus for kinktober? Maybe you're a slytherin and you don't like each other. The kink being hatefucking

if someone asked you who's the worst person in all of hogwarts you'd be able to answer automatically, remus lupin, the bane of your existence. that gryffindor prefect who you always get paired up with on night duties as you're a prefect too.

"just piss of lupin," you hiss at him for the millionth time. even his breathing annoys you.

"oh don't get your knickers in a twist princess," he replies fed up with you.

"don't call me that." you hate when he calls you that, all because you're a slytherin pureblood.

next thing you know he's grabbing your tie pulling you towards him and kissing you, "shut the fuck up, god you're so fucking annoying." he mumbles angrily against your lips.

you want to stop and want to hate his lips against you, you hate him but you can't say the same about the way his lips are pressed against. you kiss him back with just the same passion as he's kissing you, his lips are slightly chapped and you can smell his sandalwood shampoo, making you heady. you bite his lip, making him groan and push you against the wall.

he tilts your head with his fingertips under your chin to look at him as you see pupils filled with lust. "i'm going to fuck you. hard. and you're going to take it," he says harshly and with his hands still on your chin he moves your head up and down.

"there's no way in salazar that is ever going to happen." you reply defiantly, not wanting to give in to him, not wanting him to get his own way.

remus chuckled darkly and looked down at you with dark eyes, almost like you were prey. "no? are you sure about that." you don't answer, you really do hate him. you pull his hair and pull him down as stand on your tippy toes meeting him half way and smashing your lips together again, giving him the answer he needs. he smirks, grabs hold of your hand and pulls you into an empty classroom.

one second you've walked into the room, the next he's lifting you onto a desk, surprising you with his strength. he doesn't talk and keeps silent as he shoves down his trousers just enough to be able to pull his dick out. you look at him in a daze, thinking that you've never been with someone as big as remus before and you're finding it hard not to stare. when remus notices it makes him cocky but his irritation for you and need to dominate you overshadows it.

"what are you waiting for?" he spits out venomously. you rush to take of your underwear, just wanting him in you. as he looks down at you, he grabs your throat, not choking you just putting his hand around your neck. "i'm doing to fuck you so hard you won't even be able to talk."

"that's a lot of talk lupin." you snap back at him.

he grins darkly and it makes you shiver, "oh princess, it's not talk." he thrusts into you, pushing into you without stopping before pulling out and setting a brutal pace, hard and fast. you wince at the sudden pain and remus groans at how good you feel wrapped around his cock. the pain quickly subsides to pleasure and you start moaning loudly.

"tsk princess, don't be so loud. do you want the whole castle to hear you?" he says condescendingly. you moan louder. "fuck, you're such a slut." he forces two fingers down your throat he's about to tell you to suck them before you do it yourself, moaning and sucking around his fingers causing him to get closer to his finish. you grab hold of his arm, trying to stabilise yourself, remus is thrusting into you so hard the table is shaking and you're nearly falling off.

you're crying constantly, the pleasure overwhelming. "lupin. pl- plea- pl," you're trying to get the words out but you can't through his fingers down your throat.

"pl.. plea.. pl, what? what slut?" he mocks you. the next thing either of you know is that you're pushing your body against his, arching your back and cumming hard. remus groans and leans down in the crook of your neck before your own orgasm triggers his. he pulls out and flops down on the table next to you, placing his arm on his forehead, "i hate you," he says breathing deeply.

"likewise," you say controlling your breathing and wiping the tears from your face.

[partycatty]

dark star johnny hatefucking his gf/bf over the balcony in his mansion, and acting like he’s gonna drop them off of the balcony if they misbehave in any way

this one has been SIMMERINGGGG in my inbox ive been too excited to write it LOLOL, also i changed this prompt just a smidge

dark star!johnny cage > fall for me

warnings: SMUT AS FUCK, UR LIFE IS BEING THREATENED BUT UR INTO IT LOL, again ds!jc is just literally insane !! also exhibitionism !! and also cnc !! jesus this man needs hella warnings!

notes: IM SORRY U GUYS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG YOU ALL HAVE BEEN SO PATIENT SO IM REWARDING YOU

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 6*

[ masterlist ]

• dark star!johnny has a short temper, one he enjoys putting out on you. oftentimes, you didn't actually do anything, he's just mad at the idea of you going against him and that's typically enough to rile him up alone.

• this time around, you were a whopping ten minutes behind getting ready for one of his A-List parties. something about your makeup just didn't feel right no matter how many times you applied your eyeshadow or concealer, so adjustment after adjustment left johnny tapping his foot outside of the bedroom door.

• "baby~," he'd sing-song shout from the crack of the door. "this party is a big networking deal for me, and you're already fucking it up~!"

• "i didn't fuck anything up," you reply from the vanity seat, trying to focus on your lip liner. "we'll be on time, you baby."

• "don't you talk back to me!" he slams his palm again the wood, making you jump and, yet again, smear your liner. your lower your head to the vanity, bumping your forehead against the surface with a sigh.

• he eventually unlocks the bedroom door using his master key and ushers you out of the door with the temper of a toddler. his hand grabs your upper arm as you're placed into his luxury car and he drives off with a huff.

• johnny refuses to speak to you the entire time you're at the party, mostly ignoring you to bump shoulders with directors and writers. he wouldn't ever publically admit it, but roles were running dry as his agent turned up with no jobs, so he brought it up to himself to make some damn money.

• will probably call you the "ball and chain" or "the missus" in a super objectifying way as he gestures at you, trying to make the older higher-ups laugh. you had enough of it.

• deciding no longer to be his personal punchline, you wander away from the bustling, hot celebrity room and find a balcony. you were always the one to prefer fresh, open air and city skylines while johnny would rather be the one in the midst of the aforementioned city. you took advantage of this independence and leaned over the glass, savoring in the way the wind cools your damp skin.

• you only get to enjoy a few minutes in the quiet bliss before you hear the door slide open. at first, you expect it to be another partygoer hoping to squeeze in a quick smoke break, but you're horribly disappointed to be ripped from your tranquility by none other that your boyfriend.

• johnny stands at the door, fists clenched and jacket swirling in the wind. his eyes look dark, his brows furrowed.

• "where'd you go?" he asks, crossing his arms.

• you look at him like he's stupid (because he is). "the balcony?" you reply. johnny shakes his head.

• "that's not what i meant."

• "well, i left your side because i was tired of being shit on for an hour straight."

• "nobody's shitting on anyone!" johnny throws his arms in the air at your admittance, like he had no idea how cruel he was being. "they're just jokes! you're being dramatic. i thought you loved attention."

• "johnny-" you pinch your nose. "i have literally never said that."

• "but you show it! through your actions!"

• "oh my god, you're delusional," you turn away from him with a groan, trying to ignore the whiny bastard behind you. that proves a hard task when you hear his boots step up behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and head buried in your neck.

• "you know i want you here," he mumbles into your skin, rocking you gently. you turn your face away from him, not falling for his charm.

• "you don't show it," you mutter in response, trying to take a step away from him but his grasp only strengthens.

• "i could," he hums, pressing his front to your backside. "or i could punish you for making us late."

• you swivel your head, craning your neck to glare at him. "seriously? now?" he breathes into your neck, agreeing breathlessly. "no, johnny. not here. people will see."

• "isn't that the fun part?" he grunts, grinding his hips into your ass. "don't be boring. you've been boring all night."

• his hands hike up your skirt hungrily, exposing your nearly-naked ass to the cold air. you shiver and yelp out, which only makes you jump back against him even harder. he shudders at the contact.

• "come on," he whispers, hands snaking up to squeeze your chest. "don't make me be mean. you know i don't like being mean to you." his fingers find your hardened nipples, massaging them with pinched fingers.

• attempting to crane your neck to ensure the balcony's doors are locked, johnny notices your diverted attention and holds your jaw, angling it out toward the city.

• "you see that?" he breathes, now fully grinding against you. "that's my city, baby. i'm the king of hollywood, isn't that right?"

• "i guess," you reply, gasping at his erection sliding against you.

• SMACK! johnny didn't like that answer. you lurch forward from the hard slap to your ass.

• "say it," he growls, biting your neck. "or i'm gonna make you."

• "you're the king of hollywood," your voice is comically flat, exhausted from always having to gas him up for the dumbest things. johnny picks up on your unenthusiastic tone and spins you around by your hips, sitting you on the balcony ledge. his lips latch onto your throat, sucking and biting hungrily.

• his fingers danced on your panties, sliding them aside. as much as you wanted to be annoyed with him, he is so unimaginably fine. and you're the type of person that likes to be manhandled. both traits he ate up.

• before you could say anything more, johnny's fingers dove into your mouth, collecting a good amount of your saliva before using it on your pussy, shoving two fingers inside making you cry out in surprise.

• "not here, right?" he breathes, savoring the way your breathing gets heavier and your skin warms from his touch. "then we'd better be quick. and quiet." his fingers scissor inside of you, making you moan with a hand shut over your lips.

• johnny was impatient, not finding any joy in fingering you, so he glanced behind him to ensure the coast was clear before whipping his dick out, holding his shirt up by his teeth. he lined himself up, eyes focused on your bodies merging rather than your expressions.

• didn't matter how many times you get it on, you will never be fully ready for how long his dick is. while not the thickest, it just feels seemingly endless as it's embracing your walls.

• he spins you around again, throwing your front over the balcony ledge and holding you by your hips. surely, if he were to let go, you'd fall. and it wasn't a short drop.

• "fuck," he hissed as his tip met your entrance. "i control you, isn't that right?"

• a distant "mhm" slips from your lips as johnny shoves himself inside again with a slapping thrust. his gasp slides into whimper territory as he bottoms out.

• "fuck yeah i do," he growls, now going at an unholy pace. he hated the progression of sex - it was either all or nothing. "could drop you right now."

• you're pulled from your lust when you look down, noticing the rocky way down to a small river. damn these celebrities and their hillside mansions. you swallow thickly, hoping he was joking.

• "please don't," you beg in a whisper, interrupted by gasps with each thrust. "please don't let go."

• johnny could only laugh loudly at your plea, bruising your hips with his grip as he ruthlessly pounded. he was sticking true to his word about being quick, because his breakneck pace was making your cunt flutter.

• "nobody would even notice," he moans, his shirt dropping from his teeth and falling back down his front. "i'm the star."

• "you're the star," you parrot in a sick mix of lust and fear. "you're my everything."

• "i could fucking throw you off for making us late. could drop you — haah — you like it when i play god, don't you? you wanna fall for me, baby?"

• his brows knit and eyes screw shut as he finds his release inside of you. you try hard to not laugh at the fact that his own dirty talking is making him close. his grip loosens as he concentrates, and you fearfully try to hold yourself against the balcony so you don't topple forward.

• "joh— john—" you worriedly look down again, your stomach flipping as it nears an orgasm - and potential death. "johnny, please—"

• "hmm?" johnny tilts his head, a cocky smirk on his lips and exposing his beautiful pearly white teeth.

• your brain feels torn in half. you want to beg him to hold on, but you also want to cum so badly. unable to decide on an outcome, your voice sputters out pathetic begs, not entirely coherent as your mind grows foggy with an overwhelming amount of emotion.

• thankfully, your body decides for you. your knees buckle inward and his hold on you tightens. you cry out, cumming around his dick as your voice echoes through the hills. you swear a flock of birds takes off from how loudly you orgasm.

• "haah — don't fucking fall—" johnny's hands pull you impossibly closer. "not when i'm clo— ngh —"

• you find no peace after finishing, just johnny's hips slamming into your ass as his pants grow uneven. it's not long before he spills inside of you, holding you there as you're filled up.

• johnny's the first one to pull away, pulling out and making you whimper from the emptiness. you turn around to face him, your ass still bare, red, and spilling with semen. his phone's in his hand when he snaps a couple photos of this puppy eyed look.

• "you look so pathetic," he laughs, the flash of his camera making you shield your eyes. "i bet hollywood heard those moans. all thanks to me."

• you pull up your own panties and johnny visibly twitches seeing a droplet of his cum seep through. shockingly, he places a quick, chaste kiss to your lips.

• "and you're welcome for not dropping you," he winks with a toothy grin, thinking it was some kind of joke. a deep, dark part of you knew he probably genuinely considered dropping you. you were just lucky you were only ten minutes late, who knows what he'd do if you were an hour late.

• as you're pondering your life and near-death experience, johnny returns to the party, waiting for you at the door. it would be best if you stuck by him for the rest of the party.

[tonixe]

malignant —- adjective. disposed to cause harm, suffering, or distress deliberately; feeling or showing ill will or hatred.

𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 -—- ♱

Coriolanus has a big jealousy problem, every time you talk to other men even the ones he knows, he gets jealous really fast, imagine mid-conversation with a stranger he pulls you and mutters an 'excuse me' as he drags you off.

Starts fighting with you that your cheating on him, calling you a slut and a whore for talking to men other than him. You just say that he's just a friend or someone you knew, and he wouldn't believe you, and drag you off to the washroom.

Coriolanus who really rough on you—when he's fucking you, grabbing your hair, and ripping you out of your dress. Just him hatefucking you, you're not even enjoying it just your screams falling death to his ears. The screams echo throughout the manor, even the maids and Butler hearing your useless pleas.

Coriolanus is cold, He wouldn't even care about your battered body, his hands gripping onto your waist, marking your body. Now, Coriolanus is never rough with you or hits you, but when he's jealous, he can't help it...you just have to brace for impact; His hands harshly gripping your chin, as he lowers his head towards, his blue eyes staring into yours, and tears couldn't help but to fall out from the induced pain you have been through. His cruel words come out of his mouth, calling you a slut or a whore. Your lips are bitten up, and tears dripping down from your cheeks.

If he's really mad at you it's face down, ass up. His hands smack the plush of your ass, as you scream his cock slipping in and out of you. His hands forcefully burying your face into the mattress, making you almost suffocate. He knew that you deserved the punishment, his wife couldn't be whoring herself around. He finishes himself inside of you, just for his cum dripping out of you mixing with your blood.

He might forgive you if just take it, but he'll never take his eyes off of you...ever

Coriolanus who needs an heir! Imagine if Coriolanus wants to have a baby, he would make it keen to you, though you didn't feel ready to have a copy of you and Coriolanus running around.

The many sacrifices you would have to make, and Coriolanus just doing the bare minimum...didn't sit right with you. Always saying no, or ignoring it, making him get angry by the second.

One day you were just tending to the manor, fixing your skirt, and then a rushing maid, came up to you with a scared expression on her face, her mouth muttering out words, "Coriolanus, want you at his office, my lady" she looks at you in fear, her body trembling. You nodded, walking down the empty manor, your heels stepping down on the delicate floors, leading to the desolate, ominous-feeling office awaiting your presence to him. Your hands on the golden handle, opening up the Roman panel doors.

With the click of the door, as you opened to Coriolanus already examining you,

You felt like prey to a predator. You didn't want to close the door, feeling an uneasy sensation in your stomach, closing the door. "You called," you remarked, You couldn't help but look away from him. You felt alarms going off in your head, your conscious warning you of what was going to come, and the next thing that happened, was your body on the bare floor, your dress hoisted up as Coriolanus thrust into you, tears staining your vision, "Your going to be a wonderful mother" his haunting words echoing in your head, during the assault.

Coriolanus abused your body with his touch, fucking himself into you and pumping his come right after, making sure you were going to pregnant with his heir. Even if it meant him tracking your cycle and knowing when you ovulate

Coriolanus who wants an heir so badly! making sure he throws out all of your birth control pills, making sure that his sacrifices don't go to waste, and that all your movements are being tracked by the staff and peacekeepers.

Coriolanus's plan worked! looking at your now round and big belly carry his children! He would be so delighted, though you always had a scared expression etched on your beautiful face when you saw him, especially when you delivered the news to him

But you would have never known what he did for this to happen, it wasn't for your pretty little head to think about, no?

That's right it wasn't for your head to think about at all!

[amourisms]

idk if you’re inactive but i love your writing.. i would kill for some dumbification with dick

maybe it can start like a hatefuck👀

ohmygosh i'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get to this but i hope you enjoy :)

blue.

summary : dick can get a little animalistic when the person he finds most irritating wears his colour.

pairing : dick grayson x fem!reader

warnings : hate sex, dumbification, pet name ( princess ), manhandling / overall rough sex, degradation, fingering, unprotected sex, bit of praise, overstimulation, hickeys n marking, cum eating.

wc : 1.7k

a/n : its 4:27am but i just rly wanted to get this out so major apologies if its a little sloppy. sidenote can you tell i’ve got a major thing about being spoken to in the third person in this?

everything about him set you aflame. although half the time you struggled pinpointing whether it was a fire filled with hate or lust which unbeknownst to you, was a feeling dick was conflicted in as well. even now when you were dancing and flirting with his best friend, wally west. 

it was just another small celebration with your group of heroes as dick sat on the couch of titans tower’s living room, keeping his conversation with donna and roy in the back of his head as his teeth gritted at the sight of the person who irritated him most all over his best mate. yet out of everything, the fact that it was wally next to you and not him was deemed the most annoying thing you've ever done. especially when you were wearing such a dress that framed your body so perfectly that it somehow made you even more picturesque with hints of your blue bra being shown. so when you left wally briefly to go freshen up in the bathroom, his unmistakable grip on your arm stopped you before you could even reach your destination. 

he dragged you to one of the many bedrooms within titans tower and quickly locked the door after pulling you inside. "you and wally, huh?" dick had asked with a tone concocted with jealousy and anger though that's exactly what you wanted from him.

"what about it?" you seethed back at him, confused as to why he cared. he took a step closer, backing you in the door behind you and making you shrink under his harsh gaze. 

"what about it is that i hear your soft calls of my name and your pretty little moans in the dead of night when you think no one's awake, just to find you flirting with my best friend right in front of me." 

feeling a little embarrassed now knowing that he's heard you all those times, almost made you back down. though something in you just wanted to piss him off, "you catch the times i screamed out wally's name too?". you were lying but staring him down as he did you, dick was starting to have small doubts. 

your faces remained inches away, until in a blur of your own thoughts you decided to close the gap and kiss him. dick reacted quickly, kissing you back intensely. his right hand was gripping your hip roughly whilst the other relaxed in your hair. you had bought a hand to lay flat on his chest as the other found his on your hip to drag down to your pussy. dick smirked into the heated kiss as his fingers ran up and down your clothed slit, feeling the lace of your underwear and more importantly how wet for him you were even through the fabric.

lifting your legs to attach around his hips he bought you to the bed, tossing you on there with ease. he took the moment to take off his shirt, revealing his alluring torso then he wasted no time in bunching up your dress to your waist, revealing your blue lace underwear. nightwing blue. 

"christ, y/n, you're such a whore." he scoffed, but he couldn't help but manage to get harder knowing you were wearing his colours whilst flirting with his best friend. it made him feel like you would always be his, his to use like his own personal fleshlight, and that's exactly what he intended to do to you tonight. 

his fingers moved underneath the bands of your panties, and as much as he hated taking his colour off you he loved seeing your pretty glistening pussy more. his middle and ring finger ran long strokes up and down your slit, teasing you, as he bought his body on top of you he began to suck marks on your neck. just at that moment, dick plunged a finger into your sopping cunt in a singular smooth motion making you gasp. 

as he added another finger, he continued sucking on your skin moving down your neck, careless of the marks that were sure to be left in his wake. after all, he was determined to show everyone you were his. 

your breathing was heavy and whimpers were being squeezed out of you as his long, slender fingers skilfully found your sweet spot inside you. his thumb began to work your clit, his fingers finding a pace that coaxed moans out of you effortlessly. "you're much more tolerable like this," he told you as your brain couldn't even register what was happening anymore besides the blinding pleasure of just his fingers, "all soaked and dumb for me."

with that, your orgasm came crashing, and a smirk grew on dick's face as you clenched around his fingers. "you're so easy to please," he spoke softly as he continued to finger-fuck you through it. as you came down from your high, dick removed his fingers from your pussy, leaving you with an achingly empty feeling.

your mouth couldn't comprehend anything your mind was saying only allowing for a "please…" to leave your lips, though he seemed to understand you.

"don't worry, princess, i know how much of a slut you are," he began as he unbuckled his belt and removed his pants, "i know how much you need it."

your mind was in a haze as dick began repositioning himself, so when he laid down on the bed your brows furrowed in confusion until he grabbed you and positioned you over him, "show me just how much." he told you nonchalantly.

your hands rested on his shoulders as you began to drop down on his cock, filling you up perfectly. you sat atop his pelvis for a moment, adjusting to his size in which he took the time to take your dress straps off your shoulders and pushing the fabric covering your tits down so he could see your matching nightwing blue lace bra. just the sight of it made him groan. he couldn't define what it was in his head, but you in his colour just seemed so right. 

when you finally adjusted to him, you gathered up all the power left in you – which granted wasn't a lot – and began moving up and down on his cock. already riding on your knees was restrictive and now considering your sensitivity you just didn't have it in you to go any faster. 

growing tired of the pace dick gripped your hips and began slamming you down on his cock with his hands, "poor baby, can't even ride like the slut i know she is" he spat harshly.

even with his extra assistance and mindless babbles rolling off your tongue, it still wasn't enough to please dick. remembering you all up on wally west of all people? he needed to take all this pent up frustration he had with you out, and with that he planted his feet on the mattress and began thrusting into you at a brutal pace. 

your head rested in the crook of his neck with a hand gripping his shoulder and another planted firmly on his chest, allowing him to hear your angelic sounds even louder in his ear. the sound of it all was so pornographic with skin slapping against skin, your cries of pleasure and his deep groans. you were glad all the rooms were soundproof although a little part of dick wanted everyone to hear. 

nothing in your mind was coherent, your thoughts were stuck in the overwhelming pleasure dick gave you and that was the only word you ended up being able to say. his name came out of your mouth like a mantra. it was him and only him, and hearing you stuck on every word besides his name his earlier doubts had completely dissolved. you were his and you knew it. 

dick's thrusts were unfaltering, much alike the stream of curses and calls of his name escaping your cluttered mind. you were completely thoughtless on his cock. 

a muffled string of m's left his lips as he took note of your completely fucked out state, "you're taking my cock so well, baby." he would take a picture of this moment if he could. the lewdness of it all only made him go harder and faster. you cuddled up in the crook of his neck as one of his hands explored every crevice of your body whilst the other traced the marks littered everywhere above your breasts. to him it was ecstasy.

he could've sworn he hated you half an hour ago, though he couldn't deny how mesmerising you were right now. "that's my girl," he cooed in your ear as you were still whimpering at his every thrust, "spewing nonsense like the brainless whore she is." the knot in your stomach wound tighter and tighter and your walls only clenched around him tighter making him murmur a small "fuck…".

you called out his name as you came, your eyes shutting and your sensitive pussy spasming around his cock. your hands had managed to move all over his torso and was now gripping tightly onto his hair and bicep, especially now that his thrusts were relentless.

he flipped the both of you over, grabbing you with ease and tossing you on your back as he now was chasing after his own high. he was still ramming into your poor, aching cunt making your mind blind with such a level of overstimulation. one hand of his began groping your tits through the material of your bra as the other drew circles on your clit. it wasn't long before your third orgasm of the night washed over you leaving you to yet again spasm and tighten on his cock. 

a deep groan came from his throat this time as he muttered "gonna, fuck– cum" he told you in a broken sentence. with that he pulled out and laid his cock on your stomach, cumming on your tits. seeing his length reach your belly button was almost enough to make you cum for the fourth time. 

your head was still dizzy, though you could feel his slender fingers lightly trace stray lines on your chest. "open" he told you softly as he brought those same fingers to your lips that were now covered in his cum and as you did what he said, he pushed his fingers deep into your mouth letting you suck them clean.

[t4tozier]

hello. starbreaker ask moment!! first of all, wanted to say that your playlists are absolutely excellent; have been going through them, and Good Looking and Coming Down being on jace's playlist both hit me like a ton of bricks. (the latter, I've always loved and WHOA is it applicable; the former is new to me, and WHOA is it also applicable.) second of all, your takes on what classes the two of them would be if they couldn't, for whatever reason, be their canon ones? (sorcerer and barbarian/paladin, respectively.) typed all that out and went "wait, am I also asking for class swap AU here? whoa" so that's a subset question if you're interested in that too!

yay i'm so glad you enjoy the playlists i have been listening to the starbreaker and porter ones nonstop. i'm ngl i haven't even listened to jace's all the way through yet because his songs are like slow and sad for the most part and i just haven't been in that mood. i actually moved a lot of songs from shattered over to smoke and iron because i needed to make a jace playlist and i thought it was fun to have shattered reflect more of the hatefuck dynamic and jace's playlist to be the obsessive religious devotion songs. i cannot take the credit for coming down that was all my darling natalie beeprich but i do think good looking is so jace. i can't remember when/where i found that one tbh i remember hearing the song before but it may have come up on the suggested for shattered which is how i come up with a lot of my playlists.

okay now to the actual question lol!! this is sooo fascinating i really have to think about it. this is going under a cut bc it’s already too long

i can't see jace as anything other than a caster but i think he has the stats for bard, specifically eloquence bard.

silver tongue means he can practically never fail a deception or persuasion check

unfailing and infectious inspiration aren't as useful to a solo adventurer, but i can see a young fresh jace excited to join a party and then be left with all of these useful abilities that he rarely gets the opportunity to use. it does end up coming in handy later on when he starts working with porter and the rat grinders (plus, with the way his mirror image works, i could see him being able to grant them bardics as well)

porter was harder for me to figure out because it felt like a cop out to make him a fighter. but i think an interesting flip would be to see him as a full paladin instead. in my personal canon, i think he took the oath of devotion before switching to main-classing barbarian, but here, i'm thinking about oath of conquest paladin porter.

this part from dnd beyond specifically sticks out to me in relation to porter, especially with the "survival of the fittest" nature of his goliath background:

Strength Above All. You shall rule until a stronger one arises. Then you must grow mightier and meet the challenge, or fall to your own ruin.

he gets some great spells to intimidate and dominate, and at higher levels he has the ability to physically punish those who hurt him without even taking an action to do it. he also would get resistance to all damage at 20th level and would crit on a 19 or 20.

now in terms of class swaps:

i also felt it was a cop out to make jace a wild magic barbarian, so instead, we're going with the path of the zealot. this ties in well with the deification of porter, and i also think it's funny that it's a hell of a lot easier to raise him from the dead than anyone else due to a lack of needing material components for revivify or any other spell to raise the dead. porter PWKs him? just call buddy over, he'll be back in under a minute. i also think Rage makes for a very fun dynamic between the two of them; jace rises from the dead and immediately goes for porter's throat. he just throws a shocking grasp back at him. it's fun we're having fun :)

i think it is also fun to have porter be a draconic bloodline sorcerer. he gets additional AC from his draconic resilience, and he can resist lightning damage which is rarer than other types of resistance. he also gets dragon wings which i just think is cool. i don't really see porter as a caster in general but i do think for someone who values his ancestry so much he would take pride in getting his magic from his bloodline.

[setsugekka]

『paradise lost』 ; 08

❝ annihilation ❞

↳ and so, here you are: the consequences of your actions. the unraveling of a man that you love, and the dissolution of everything that the two of you had been so carelessly working towards.

⎯ ୨previous୧ ⎯  ○  ⎯ ୨series mlist୧ ⎯ ○ ⎯ ୨next୧ ⎯

『 pairing 』 : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

『 genre 』 : romance, angst, explicit sexual content.

『 rating 』 : mature

『 word count 』 : 8k

『 warnings 』 : hatefuck and all of the horrors that come along with that. it’s like watching a trainwreck in slow motion tbh. extreme carelessness emotionally, mean things are said, name calling, slut shaming, etc.

Arriving much quicker than Hongjoong had ever anticipated, made evident to you by the drop of his features upon opening the door to his loft, you don't bother to give him the time to protest, pushing past him with little effort to stop you on his end.

Seonghwa's place wasn't that far out, anyways.

Hair now black and slicked back up and off his forehead, perfectly done and obviously dressed with somewhere to be that evening; all black everything, actually. Pressed slacks and immaculately fitted suit jacket — Hongjoong looks a bit more put together than typical of him, less 'alternative art guy' and more 'business professional,' or rather even—

—dressed for going out somewhere, with someone.

Your face drops even more, and you know now more than ever, you have no business feeling the way that you do at the mere implications that you've fabricated in your mind. The idea that Hongjoong could be planning to spend the evening with someone else, a date. Really now, more than ever before, it's none of your fucking business.

He has every right, and had it been his intent, he certainly would have earned it.

Selfish as ever, you can't help yourself, though. Even after everything else that just took place — Seonghwa, the video, the phone call — you just can't help yourself, being anything but who and what you are. Selfish.

“Wh—where are you going?” you manage to stutter out, features laced with what could only be described as disgust at the mere sight of him. A man that's done nothing wrong, and nothing deserving of them.

A man who under normal circumstances; accepting of your faults, of the way that you're quick to jealousy, who coddles and loves you in spite of it all. Hongjoong laughs at the question, turning his gaze from you. The audacity.

“That's rich, really,” he says, eyes glancing up towards you again as the both of you still in the doorway, but only momentarily, before he begins reaching down for a pair of freshly cleaned and shined dress shoes. “You're really something else, you know that?”

“Joong—“

Hongjoong stands suddenly at the name, a pet name of sorts; a precious shortening that you had fallen into over time and that he once especially loved to hear fall from your lips in the throes of passion, when he knew he was being so good to you that you couldn't utter the entirety of it.

And for what?

“What's really sick about it is that I still want to tell you. I still want to ease your worries, quell your fears of where I am or who I might be with or what I might be doing,” he finally answers, voice louder and pointed, the hurt still horrifically evident in the way that it courses through his body.

“Because the idea that something I do might hurt you literally fucking kills me, even now.”

Eyebrows pressed as closely together as possible, lips pursed, you watch him. The man that you love, the man that you've torn apart.

“Do you know what that feels like? Or do you just ignore the texts and pretend it's not happening?”

Never laid a hand on you with ill intent, the words feel like a punch to the chest all the same.

Hongjoong bends down for his shoes again, beginning to slip them on. “Friend has a gallery opening tonight that I said I’d go to, that's where I'm going.”

“Can I stay here?”

You fumble the words out, just barely. Voice shaken and knowing his whereabouts offering little solace given everything else going on around them. It's barely a logical question, anyway. Stay for what? Until he returns? For when he returns? You practically live there, after all. But it's not something you put any deep insight into before tossing them out there.

Typically the way that you move throughout the world, it seems.

He sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess. Do whatever you want. That's what you do, anyways.”

“Can we please just talk?”

Eyes locked on the man bent before you, you watch as he slowly stands again, a roll of the eyes as he sighs as if entirely fed up with the topic at hand already. Fed up with you. With this.

“I tried to talk,” he begins, raise of the eyebrows and cock of the head that tells you he's doing his best to keep his anger under control. Kim Hongjoong, never raised his voice with you, never loud, never aggressive.

You were testing him, though. Your mere presence was a test.

“But you were busy. Not much to say, now.”

The both of you pause, looking at each other, faces full of twisted emotions bit back in an attempt to remain calm and assert the existence of upper hand in the scenario — you less so, fully willing and able to acquiesce this fight. You lost. You fucked up. You know.

So how can we fix it, can it even be fixed?

It's wrong, and you know it, but it's the only thing you feel as though you have, now. An aggressive approach to appeal to the broken part of him that reluctantly still cares for you, still wants you — still loves you.

“Hongjoong, I lov—“

“Don't.”

Cutting you off, he steps forward suddenly with palms clasping around your face — it's not violent, or with any intent to hurt you — the way that a lover would grasp their partner with intent to kiss them passionately, lovingly.

“Don't do that, you can't do that, you're so fucking—“

Hongjoong pauses, gazing deeply into your eyes with only a few inches off from you — holding you firmly in his hands, in place, you could escape from him but you wish not to. Unsure of his intentions but feeling as though whatever they may be, you would willingly accept them now more than ever.

He never finishes the thought, though, lips harshly crashing onto your own — full of teeth and tongue in an instant — it feels wrong, in some way. A kiss that drips with hurt; a man that knows nothing else in that moment beyond the fact that he wants and loves you even in spite of everything. Everything that you've done, everything that you've put him through.

It feels wrong, and you know that it is, but the warmth of feeling him with you again proving to be far too strong for you to muster up the courage to break away from. Maybe now, more than ever before, the two of you just need one another.

Logically, you know that whatever this is won't fix it, but you need him, and evidently, he needs you, as well.

Needs to have you back, reclaim you, undo whatever it was that Seonghwa did an hour ago.

Hongjoong drops his hands from your face to shrug his jacket off and to the floor, pushing you back and towards the couch that the two of you are no stranger to experiencing one another on — but the thought of a couch so soon after your romp with Seonghwa — bringing back the memories of such a thing, proves to be too much for you to overcome so soon. Back of your thighs hitting the armrest, mouths still sloppy, toothy kisses — the strong taste of tequila on his tongue from what you could only imagine to be a shot or two he downed after the phone call — you pull back briefly to speak, to protest only slightly.

The words catch in your throat as you take his features into your vision — the glistening of particularly moist eyes as Hongjoong's meet your own.

It kills him, being with you now, yet it's still the only thing he wants — even at his own self-destruction.

But Hongjoong doesn't bother pulling his face from yours to hide the evidence of his emotions, instead, he allows you to take it in. 'This is what you do to me, maybe you can finally feel it, too.'

And so, you do. You deserve it, after all. The way your chest feels as though it's caving in on itself as you look into his slightly bloodshot eyes — and the juxtaposition of his fingers making quick work of the button on the front of your pants, then zipper, then thumbs hooked into the sides before he spins you by the hips again. It's happening so fast and with such little thought put into it.

And not a word spoken, either.

This isn't him. Normally such a caring, considerate, gentle and attentive lover — but the haste in which he's now trying to take you is foreign. The man standing behind you now, feeling like a stranger.

It certainly does feel familiar, and in all of the wrong ways. You finally remember what it was that you wanted to say to begin with.

“Not here, Joong—“ you breathe out just as his hand meets the small of your back and you begin to hear the sound of his belt buckle.

He pauses, because of course he does.

And then you hear him continue with his belt.

“Why? Why not here?”

You think it's the first time he's ever met your reluctance with questioning of the reason behind it, and you don't particularly want to detail it, either.

“Just—“

“Remember the safe word, right?”

“Yes!” you bite back, getting somewhat annoyed at the way that he won't let you speak, at the way that he's being.

You feel him shuffle his slacks down around his thighs a bit from behind you, gritting your teeth and fingernails digging into the red cushion of the couch that you'd grown to love. So many memories of the both of you smiling and laughing and loving on it.

Only to be dwindled down to this. Whatever this even is.

“Why?” he asks again, this time louder, but before you get a chance to reply, it becomes evident that the reasoning dawns on him, having seen the video, after all. “Oh, is it because he just fucked you like this? Is that it? Guilty?”

You don't answer, thoughts being brought to the way his hand slides down from the small of your back to your panties — no doubt still bearing evidence of your deeds just earlier in the night, you can't see Hongjoong's face, and for once, you're thankful for it.

You think to yourself now, that you're pretty sure you know precisely what he thinks of you, anyways.

Hongjoong shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek as if contemplating precisely the way to move forward with this particular endeavor, fingers curling around the fabric of worn and used panties that he now wants nothing to do with and pulling them off towards the side as much as he can manage — the sound of tearing elastic ripping through the otherwise quiet apartment, and you grimace at the sound, at the feeling.

At him.

Feeling the tip of his cock against you from behind, threatening to enter you, your heartbeat increases all that much more. You want him, you want him desperately, now more than ever before, and even in spite of how terribly wrong it feels in this moment. In this way. The unignorable feeling that you two should not be engaging in this right now, how it won't fix anything — the carnal desire that Hongjoong has for you, to have you, physically, mentally, emotionally, and the same for you to be had by him — overwhelming all logic and sense.

It's something the two of you can figure out, later. You're not happy with the way that it's going down, but you're not going to stop him either, because you need him to need you, and if this is how he has to do it — punishing, thoughtless, hurtful — then so be it.

You earned it.

“Did you think of me?” he finally says, normally talkative and bright during sexual endeavors, now cold and quiet — and this, this not what you had been hoping for, either. “When he fucked you, did you think of me even a little bit?”

“God, Hongjoong, what the fuck?” you spit, craning your head back from your bent position in an attempt to look at him. Furrowed eyebrows. Truly a stranger to you, now.

“Just curious if I even crossed your mind,” he says as his hips slowly press forward, your body taking his length as you groan out at the intrusion.

Hips snapping forward suddenly to push the rest of himself into you in an instant, you grit your teeth and screw your eyes shut.

“Did he at least wear a condom? Or have you just that little care for me now, too?”

You wonder if he's genuinely asking or not, considering he's already buried inside of you — perhaps simply a risk he's willing to take in an attempt to reclaim what he believes to be his in the best way he knows how.

“Yes, he wore a condom, Jesus Christ,” you answer with a hiss, but the man behind you only chuckles. 

“Can't know with you anymore, don't know if I ever really did.”

Like a knife twisting in your chest, the words tumbling from his mouth. A man who once loved to shower you with praise and words of adoration as he made love to you, now a second and a third harsh snap of his hips against you — nearly painful at the drive — and nothing kind to say at all.

You sort of hate the fact that he feels heavenly inside of you, the harshness behind the otherwise perfect fit of him. Would it be so wrong to enjoy it? To come?

Quickly settling into a steady, fast rhythm, Hongjoong doesn't bother reaching down to rub you through what he may hope to eventually be your orgasm, one hand instead opting to reach up and into your hair as the other settles on the small of your back again to keep you settled there. “This what you need from me?” he grunts out between thrusts, voice broken — unsure if it's the act or the emotions behind it.

“Need me to fuck you like a whore? Is that it?”

It's not dirty talk, you know that. Trying to ignore the way your arousal reacts to it as if it is, you clench your eyes shut again, hating the way that even this, in this moment, is making him feel. The desperate need for one another in any way, however the two of you may achieve it, yet manifesting in the most ugly way imaginable.

He's never said that word to you before.

“Hongjoong, please—“ you whine, partially from the words and how much they hurt, and partially from the exquisite drag of his cock against your walls.

But before you can finish the sentence, Hongjoong has you up and off of your chest, hand still in your hair as he pulls you around and to the wall just on the opposite side. Only a few footsteps away until you're back against it, grip of his fingers into the strands so much tighter than before and offering almost no mobility to your head, his mouth meets your own again as he nips and bites at your bottom lip, dragging down your jaw and to your neck to suck marks into the skin — barely faded marks made by him not even a week ago still — as if a caveman's attempt at reclaiming what's his.

“I miss you so much, every time you're gone,” he whispers into your neck, a sudden and unexpected admission of himself, his feelings. The Hongjoong that you truly know and love slipping through the cracks of a worn down, bitter man otherwise before you this evening. It feels comforting, to hear him again, to know that he's still down in there somewhere.

The guilt bubbles up all over again on the other side of the coin, knowing that he's still in there. After everything that you have put him through, and even through this, he's still there.

“I really, really—“

The words are so soft as they spill out in breaths on your hot skin, Hongjoong's hand hiking your leg up to grant himself access to you again as he slides back inside with ease. Bringing his mouth up just in time for the both of you to groan against each other's lips at the feeling — for the first time in the night, it feels right, it feels reminiscent of him.

“—fucking hate you. I hate what you've done to me.”

It catches you off guard, then another sharp snap of his cock into you has you reeling all over again, a moan reluctantly falling from your mouth and into his due to his proximity, you look into his eyes in an attempt to parse through the situation — the thoughts, the feelings he's experiencing.

Slightly hooded eyes filled with lust, desperation, anger stare back at you, as if enjoying watching the way you fall apart for him all the same as before, but for what reason you aren't quite sure.

Is this make up sex, or something entirely different?

But everything aside, the long, quick drags of his cock inside of you, hard against all of the places he knows you love, sends you quickly towards your own orgasm — not sure if it's his intention or not to let you come, you whine out his name as your hands come up and around his neck, clenching hard into the black shirt he currently adorn — nails sinking into bare skin at areas where the shirt moves out of place, and Hongjoong hisses at the feeling of the contact, head thrown back briefly as his eyes roll only to then kiss you hard again.

“Gonna come for me, baby?” he asks, lips pressed into your own as he does and eyes never breaking contact with your own. “Like when I treat you poorly? Don't give a fuck about you?—“

A few harder drives into you. “Gonna take my cum, slut?”

Slut. So that's what he thinks of you.

Who could blame him, really.

And it's the first time that Hongjoong says something nasty to you that takes you out of it a little bit. Heart sinking, your mind comes back to you at the utterance of the words against your mouth — as if you're supposed to love it, but truthfully, knowing that he's past the point of caring whether you do or not.

Hongjoong's painted fingernails curling harder into your hair again as his thrusts become faster, more erratic in an effort to chase his orgasm, you find that yours has seemingly been lost to the drop of one single word.

And he doesn't seem to care in the slightest.

Hissing at the pain to your scalp, you wince slightly. “Hongjoong, it hurts—“

“Now you know how I feel.”

A thoughtless reply from him in a way you never could have anticipated, and before you have a chance to think through it, you feel the pulsating of his cock as he buries deep into you, releasing hard and heavy and with a bit back groan against the shell of your ear.

Immediately upon finishing, the man relinquishes his hold onto you, hands opting instead to splay against the wall on either side of you as you remain propped up against it, watching the way he attempts to catch his breath again quickly and regain composure — stuffing himself back into his pants almost as quickly as he had finished off, as well — as if now fully present and completely aware of all of the ways that this is so astonishingly fucked up.

Pulling back from you, you take note of the light sheen of sweat on his forehead, then beautifully long lashes as his eyes make their way back up to meet yours for the first time since finishing the endeavor.

What you don't expect to find, is the tears brimming his eyes, however.

Slamming a fist against the wall, you realize that it's coming back to him far quicker than you had expected — the events that had just transpired. Words said, feelings ignored.

Choking back the sob that threatens to escape him, Hongjoong instead opts to pull away from you completely, settling back against the arm of the couch that had started this whole thing to watch you from a distance — you can only assume that he thinks you want it, from him. After whatever it was that that was.

“I hate this. I'm not—“

Bringing his palms up to his face, you can hear the horror laden in his voice, at himself.

“Hongjoong, it's okay,” you offer, but he just as quickly shakes his head in dismissal.

“I love you, you know that, right? Why are you fucking doing this to me?”

Slowly picking your jeans back up and settling them into place again as you watch the man before you come undone emotionally once again, for the first time ever in regards to him, you don't know what to do. You don't know what's right, or what he needs.

But one thing is for sure, you didn't want his confession to be off of the back of this.

The word still ringing loud and clear through your mind, the ease in which it tumbled from his lips as if he hadn't even thought twice about it — or rather, he had thought it numerous times before, in actuality. Almost certainly not the first time the word had come up in regards to you, and perhaps he had never said it, and almost certainly told himself that he never would, and that it was wrong, and fucked up, and not okay.

He still did.

But even off of the back of the man that you love effectively using you physically with little regard — a result of so much pent up pain and suffering and not knowing anything else — it's not the sex that upsets you, because the sex is what you also wanted. You don't care that he didn't try to get you off, or that he was rougher than usual, and even a little distracted from being entirely present and in the moment with you. You knew the safe word, and chose never to use it.

It's the word. The words that he said. That you know he meant with every fiber of his being, only then able to finally say them to your face, tell you how he really feels about you, with the guise of dirty talk and another guilty fuck for the night.

This one feels far worse, however.

You did this. You did this to him, and you did it to the concept of 'us.'

And it's true that we are only ever responsible for our own actions, that at the end of the day, Hongjoong has to deal with his own demons in relation to the night, and the words and actions displayed going forward. Watching as he sobs into his palms, and finally stepping forward to take him into your arms, to tell him that it's okay, that you're okay, that it doesn't matter and we can finally just move on from this and do better, be better together and for each other — Hongjoong abruptly springs up and away from your touch, wiping smudged eye makeup from his under eyes with the knuckle of his thumbs gently as he sniffles and shakes his head sharply.

“No,” he says, matter of fact and through a hoarse throat. “No, no more.”

You don't know what he means, but the sinking in your chest gives you an idea.

“We're not doing this anymore, I'm not doing this anymore,” he continues on, bending down towards his coat and slinging it on once again — motions hurried and as if he's quick to exit the apartment all of a sudden. It's such a fast switch from how he was only moments ago — hunched over and in on himself, crying into his hands at himself, at this.

And now, one can only assume, that he had taken the time to mourn the loss of you, and of what had been and could have been in the future.

Remaining silent, you don't even want to press him for more, horror splitting through your body, through your veins and bones and the tears welling up in your eyes faster than you can even follow as your throat dries. Please not this, please don't be what you think it is.

Please don't give up on this, on us. I love you. You love me.

“I don't want to see you anymore.”

I don't love you anymore, goodbye.

“Hongjoong—“

Finally able to muster up the courage, the words, with his already out and on the table, it's all you have, you have to do and say something — you can't let it end like this.

Watching Hongjoong quickly slip his shoes on, so rushed and desperately attempting to make his way out of the shared room, he looks back to you only briefly, for a split second — obviously intent on not making or keeping eye contact with you. It makes him feel like a stranger.

So many new sides of him, tonight. All manifested by your wrongdoings.

“Don't,” he chokes out, rummaging through some items on the table near the door, it takes him a hasty moment to finally find his keys, then eyes quickly darting about to locate his phone.

You hate the way he so badly wishes to not be in your presence, when not long ago, your presence was the only thing he wished to have.

“Please,” he says, finally finding his phone and swiping it off of a table across the room before jogging back to the front door and pulling the door slightly ajar. Hongjoong looks back at your eyes again, both glistening with the suffering befallen the situation.

Mourning it. Mourning a love that crashed before it ever really even took off.

“I love you,” Hongjoong finally admits, and it's the strongest his voice has sounded since you arrived there. Gazing upon him as he stands tall, firm in the doorway with keys and door knob in hand — his expression just as equally pained as the first time he had laid eyes on you that evening.

An expression that is so desperate for an alternate ending to this, for a different possibility, for something else that doesn't have to be this.

“—but I can't say it. Not really. Not outside of this. For as fucked up as you are, so am I,” he says, voice now giving way ever so slightly, it's such a pained admission of self-understanding in a way that you feel as though you've never heard from him.

Hongjoong can tell you that he loves you now, only because he hates you equally as much.

“I don't want to lie, and I can't tell you the truth—“ he stutters out again, fingers gripping tightly into the metal keys in his fist as he allows the words out of his mouth.

He can't say the words. The actual words he means. Not past the initial admittance of not wanting to see you anymore, he can't say that the relationship is over — because he doesn't want it to be, and because he knows that he can't adhere to it with the slightest protest. The biggest reason for his needing to escape the fire now — not that you disgust him, or that he feels vile in your presence, but rather still entirely the opposite — an unending, inextinguishable love for you, a desire to have you and be with you that above all else, trumps all else.

You're destroying me, and yet I want nothing more than to be destroyed by you.

“I won't come back tomorrow so please just...have your stuff out in two days, please.”

He's begging you, now. Begging you to stop hurting him, begging you to let him heal and move on from this, from the damage you have inflicted upon him.

And choking out an “okay,” you watch him turn and leave the apartment, the sound of the large, front door slamming and echoing through the empty loft apartment that you had grown so fond of.

That you may never find yourself inside of again.

And with Hongjoong gone, you allow yourself to have it finally — the sob you bit back all this time now ripping through your chest and echoing through just as the door had.

How did we get here? How did it come to this?

“Hello?”

Beyond your initial response to the sound — heart thumping hard in your chest as you sit up straight from bed, automatic physical response one of high alert, because you know you shouldn't be hearing another person — a man, at that — in the apartment.

But you want to, you were hoping to, and as you laid your head down on the pillow that Hongjoong had once bought specifically for you to sleep beside him on, the last time that you likely ever would, you may have sent something of a prayer out into the ether — to someone, and to nothing all at once, that he might come back, have a change of heart and mind.

Find it in himself to forgive you.

And as your heart slows with each seconds passing, you come to realize that while the voice a familiar one — not the one you had been wishing for as sleep had taken you hours prior.

“I'm—“ you quiet after beginning the sentence, realizing that you had taken one of his shirts from the floor of the upstairs loft next to the bed and adorned it to sleep in, not expecting anyone to be finding you in such a way.

But given the circumstances, and the visitor in question, suppose it doesn't matter.

“—upstairs, give me a second,” you finish, voice small and ashamed of having been found like this. Less about the shirt, more about everything else surrounding it.

You wish not to be seen, and to be swallowed up by the ground itself, instead.

Slipping a pair of sweatpants on, you lazily head down to greet the visitor, already well aware of the face that would find you but none happier about it all the same. Barely able to make eye contact with the man as he tosses his keys onto the table, shoes already kicked off in the entrance — you can't help but chuckle to yourself internally about the last time the two of you met and what that looked like.

Hair blonde and fluffy just the same as that night, over sized, gray sweatshirt gracing his torso, it makes him look small, approachable. You aren't used to seeing him like this, but you aren't really used to seeing him at all, you suppose.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you. How are you?”

You watch Wooyoung's features sort of shift, as if realizing the stupidity of the question too long after the fact. He instead opts to pick up a white, plastic bag from the floor carrying what appears to be styrofoam take out containers, and with a small smile, holds it up to you. “Brought you food, let's have breakfast.”

“Um,” you muster out, hating the way you have to say the words and all of the implications behind them, but Wooyoung pauses at the sound, eyes shifting towards you again on the journey to the kitchen. “Hongjoong...isn't here.”

He sighs with a gentle smile. “I know. Let's eat.”

It's quiet over pancakes, even more so with the memories of the last time you sat at this dining room table. Thoughts mixing together of the conversation you had had with Hongjoong here, paired with everything else, you make an attempt to put something in your stomach with Wooyoung there — now obviously sent over by the man you've done so much wrong to in order to look after you — now caring for you the best way he knows how: entirely in his own absence. You can feel the heavy gaze of brown eyes on you occasionally, as if a father watching over his child and making sure they're getting their meals in.

There's kindness there, even love. Even now. Maybe hope.

Wooyoung finishes the last bite of his strawberry before taking a sip of water and leaning back in his chair. You can tell that he doesn't want to be the first one to ask about it — likely not wanting to pry, and all things considered, he's Hongjoong's friend, not yours.

But he's still here. For you. In spite of that.

“Do you know where Hongjoong is?”

It's simple, and you feel guilty for asking. It's really none of your business where he is, now more than ever, but still — the question weighs heavily on your mind.

Wooyoung clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing away briefly before meeting your eyes again. “I shouldn't tell you this, he's my friend, after all—“

“I know.”

“—But, he's at my place.”

It's a relief. You don't expect that Hongjoong went to Wooyoung for another guilty, miserable round even with having a little bit of knowledge of their history together, and figure it far too evil on Hongjoong's end to fuck, or be fucked by, the man and then send him over the next morning to do...whatever it is that Wooyoung is here to do, anyway.

“He had a thing and then he came by late.”

“That's good.”

“It wasn't like that, don't worry.” The man placates the little bit of curiosity regardless, and with a slightly shit-eating grin as if trying to lighten the mood with a joke. You meet him halfway with a perked up corner of your mouth as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

The words slice through your ears like glass — the idea of reliving the events of last night all over again, as if talking about it were to bring any solace or comfort in the aftermath of the destruction you had caused in only an hour or two.

Fiddling with the hem of Hongjoong's t-shirt as the fabric sits pooled in your lap, you stare down at your busy fingers. “I mean, suppose he told you already.”

“He did,” Wooyoung says, nodding once in affirmation of the fact. “He's...not proud. It's sort of why I'm here — well, that, and to help you move.”

Help you move.

There's a lot to take in in such a short sentence you find, but Hongjoong standing firm in his resolve to not do this anymore, not have you anymore being the one that weighs the most heavily at first. Truthfully, you had hoped that Wooyoung had come in an effort to help the both of you work through it.

But, apparently that is not so.

“Not...proud?” you question, looking up and across the table at the man.

He leans forward, elbows pressed against the wood — earnest and serious but gentle all at the same time — such a far cry from the way in which you had met him before.

“You know as well as I do that Hongjoong is a good man. Kind, delicate — he's an art school kid, you know how they are,” he chuckles, waving a hand about in the air. “He's not at all happy with the way that things went down last night between the two of you.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

“I don't really know all of the details, I don't need to,” Wooyoung starts again. “But he didn't apologize, he wants to apologize, he just can't.”

“And why can't he?” you question, voice small and throat dry, the conversation already beginning to bubble up again the feelings from before.

You don't want to cry in front of this man, but he's making it so hard.

“He can't...see you. Talk to you.”

“So he sent you to do it for him.”

Wooyoung frowns at the words — the way that it sounds so pathetic and cowardly, and perhaps that's not even false, but sometimes we have to be so in an effort to protect ourselves from further suffering. “Sort of, yeah.”

The two of you silence, Wooyoung sitting back again and chewing at the inside of his lip as he contemplates the best way to handle the situation going forward. For you, it's the stifling of the burning pain felt deeply in your chest — a kind of pain only expelled by the feeling of one's feelings, and for that, the man sent to help you needs to not be here.

Crying in front of him does neither of you any good. What's the point. It won't bring Hongjoong back here before you're gone.

“I know he's a good man, I...neither of us were in great form last night,” you say, finally acknowledging the words that Wooyoung had delivered.

Wooyoung nods, pushing his chair back from the table and moving to pick up the dishes from it, and just as quickly as the thought comes to you, the tears prick at the corners of your eyes all over again. Wooyoung is all you have, he's your one chance at undoing this, at trying to make it right for the two of you again. Looking up at him, eyes bloodshot and glistening with furrowed brows, you gently take his wrist to stop his movement towards the sink.

“I love him, Wooyoung. He loves me.”

Deeply inhaling, he frowns slightly but nods to you all the same — acknowledging the words in a silent plea to allow him to set the dishes in the sink and that he would then return to you. He does, quickly, taking you by the hand and bringing you to the open living area where the both of you sit on the couch together.

A man with many good qualities, the best being his kindness. Knowing well enough the torment you've put his friend through, and still here, by your side, in the aftermath of it all.

Inhaling heavily again, Wooyoung takes both of your hands into his lap and cradling them within his own as he looks you in your eyes. Delicacy but seriousness in his own simultaneously.

“Sometimes...even when we love someone, and they love us, too much damage has been done, and it's not fixable.”

Your heart drops in an instant, the tears welling up just as fast and all over again.

“I'm not here to advise you one way or another, just like I wouldn't advise him one way or another, either. Truthfully, I adore both of you — individually, and together—“

He pauses, thinking. “—but there's been a lot of hurt. On both sides.”

“You're saying I should move on, give up—“ you choke out, squeezing your fists still harbored under his own.

“I'm saying that you shouldn't wait.”

Waiting for Hongjoong to come around again, the thought that had been bouncing around in your skull from the moment he said the words — that if you simply waited long enough, he would come around. The hurt would eventually subside, and he could and would remember all of the ways in which the two of you made each other so unfathomably happy. That if you just waited, he could heal, love you again like he once did — without the hate lacing the word and making it easy for him to give to you.

And now, Wooyoung is telling you not to, in the nicest way possible. Parsing through the language, the meaning behind it ringing loud and clear to you: for you, he will never recover. The damage you have caused him is irreversible, as far as your relationship to him. He is traumatized by you, and your presence in his life will halt his healing.

Don't wait, he will never come around.

You don't give a response, eyes pulling away from the man and instead looking up to the ceiling, the tears too strong to fight now, and it's just as quickly that Wooyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and pulls you tightly against him in a hug.

You break down into the contact, chest heaving and pained as you sob into his sweater.

Hours later and boxes packed a few minutes before four in the afternoon, Wooyoung comes back inside the apartment after having carried the last to his car to take to your own place. Looking around slowly at your surroundings — the apartment feeling so large and empty despite the fact that you didn't have so many things there to begin with and it still full of all of Hongjoong's things, you sigh — sad, and heavy — Wooyoung slipping his fingers in between your own on one hand as if to offer you more comfort. The two of you meet eyes, and he smiles ever so gently at you.

You wonder if this is the last time you will ever see the man again, and how painful of a loss that is, as well.

“Can I ask you something?” you say, boldly. “Like, not as my friend, or his friend, or even as a therapist just...I don't know, as a person.”

He laughs at the question, snorting through his nose as he nods. “Sure, I'll try.”

“What would you do, if you were me?”

Wooyoung squeezes your hand ever so slightly before pulling from you entirely, and you think in the moment that you've gone too far — pressed your relationship with the man too much and out of his comfort zone with the man that you love to extend you any more kindness, but instead, he shuffles a hand through messy, blonde hair and chuckles again.

“Don't know,” he starts, shaking his head slightly. “Suppose it is the only way to leave, though, isn't it?”

You know he's referring to the way that Hongjoong has — abruptly, suddenly, painfully.

“Suppose you still love them?” you answer back, quiet and almost a whisper as you gaze up at him through somewhat expectant eyes. You know that Wooyoung won't simply say things to make it easier on you, especially not after having just told you not to wait for the man that you want nothing more than to wait for, but still...you can only hope.

And he takes silence for far too long for your liking as he mulls over the question in his mind — perhaps not a scenario in which Wooyoung has ever had to experience himself, and you're happy for the fact, be it on either end of the situation. A man that deals more in quick thrills and fun rather than attempting to dabble in the sides of love, much less forever.

Eyes meeting yours again, he bumps his own shoulder into yours — a sort of playfulness that has no business being in the conversation, in the situation at all, but given the man that you're dealing with, you're unsurprised.

“Suppose you still love them,” he repeats again and to himself, before answering with finality.

“Then you don't leave.”

After dropping you back to your own place of residence and helping you bring your belongings back inside, Wooyoung bids you a pleasant farewell. You're thankful for Hongjoong's kindness — be it out of his love for you or guilt for what he's done to you, now well past five you realize that beyond the pancakes that Wooyoung had brought you much earlier in the morning, you had not eaten.

Not up for cooking, and barely up for eating at all, anyways, you decide on a small café only recently opened up down the block from you. It's nothing special, and no reviews to show for itself given its newness — but with less than an ample appetite, no reason not to give them a chance.

How hard could it be to make a BLT and a coffee, anyways?

Stepping inside with the ringing of a bell on the top of the door, you're actually pleasantly surprised to find other people already seated inside and from what you can tell, happily enjoying their items at their tables. You step forward and towards the counter, out of the way in case someone else were to come through with their mind already made up as you gaze upon the menu — taking in the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread items that line up the back wall on the other side of the register side.

Coming from the back room, a woman greets you happily. “Hello! Welcome to Mountain Breeze Café! Take your time.”

You thank her, turning your attention back up and towards the menu before feeling the presence of another person slinking up and next to you. Assumed to be another patron waiting, you turn to look at him as he, too, looks upon the menu.

“I'm not ready, you can go ahead of me.”

He turns his head to meet your eyes, an ever so slight grin forming on his lips that take form at the ends as dimples — you're a little taken aback by his striking features — sharp and cat-like, with medium-long black hair and a carefully placed slit cut out of his eyebrow.

Honestly, he looks sort of terrifying, but the childish smile dulling his otherwise serious face.

“May I recommend something?” he says, eyes widening and bright. You're now completely taken by the way he softens in an instant. What an intriguing, somewhat bizarre, man.

“Sure...” you reluctantly allow, supposing you're thankful for it given the fact that you've never been before, but all the same alarmed by the outward friendliness of the strange man in the new café.

“I think the melted ham and cheese is best,” he says with a nod. “As for drinks, you can get anything really, they're all good. I like smoothies, though.”

“It's cold outside,” you say to the smoothie comment.

“Goes well with hot food!”

“You're a little weird, huh?” you finally say to him, but he only laughs at the statement as you nod towards the woman waiting to receive your order that you will, in fact, be allowing him to hijack your dining experience.

“Not weird,” he amends, nodding gently and with a slow blink, really almost cat-like even in mannerisms. “It's my café, I own the place.”

Startled at the admission, you stumble over your words a bit, attempting to recall the entirety of a conversation in passing that meant almost nothing to you and hoping that you hadn't said anything rude, or hurtful — you know, just in case the food is good.

“God, I'm sorry,” you start, exhaling heavily. “It's been...a long twenty-four hours. I've had better days.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” he says, and he sounds empathetic, although you can't tell if he's simply putting on a show because it's what he should do in the moment. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your immediate response is to chuckle at the thought, having just spent all afternoon talking about it with Wooyoung, but it's past that that the fact that you don't even know this man dawns on you. How you feel so comfortable with him already that this wasn't the first thought that comes to mind, you may never know.

“With all due respect,” you laugh, turning towards a small, empty table and sitting down at one of the two chairs perched just beside it. “I don't know you, why would I?”

Standing before you, the man looks as though he's thinking for a moment, before the logic of the situation dawns on him in real time. You can't help but feel a sort of child-like innocence from him, as if simple, everyday, real world concepts are still something he's attempting to grapple with each passing moment — as if he's not twenty-however old and a business owner.

“True, in that case—“ he responds, pulling the other chair out and seating himself down into it before finishing the thought.

“—I'm Choi San, and now you do.”

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

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[milkycarnations]

Kinktober 2022

|Week Three| Puppeteer x afab!Reader | recording, hatefuck, safe word | 715 words

kinktober masterlist | name calling, sex as an outlet, fling/friends with benefits, stoplight safe words yellow and green, rough sex, bdsm, choking, pushing boundaries, soft aftercare, basically you and puppet hatefuck so he can feed off of your negative emotions? did i get his character right

Written for @just-a-creep-babe's #creepkinks. I don't write for Puppeteer on my blog, so this one was hard :(!

You understood Puppeteer was a spirit. You understood he wasn't human, that he fed (somehow) on negativity, and that he had taken a special interest in you. That was the extent of what he had told you. He hadn't even bothered to give you a real name to call him by. It was clear he wanted complete control over you - you didn't mind. You were his quick little morsel to keep him satiated, but to tap into your full potential, he needed you in a very unique position. He craved someone who hated him with a passion but couldn't resist being around him, and you were his someone.

"Where are you now?" he said.

"Green," you responded as he wrapped his hands tighter around your neck.

He liked to push you over the edge in a new way each time and he was damn good at it. "The angrier the better," he told you once.

"All that emotion... so invigorating. Don't you feel how your hate fills the room? I can taste it." he gave your throat a little squeeze.

Your brow furrowed as your hearing grew fuzzy. Thinking about every little thing that pissed you off the past week - everything he had done to piss you off - egged you on. It built with the pressure he caused in your pussy, but you couldn't do anything about it. Your legs were tied up to the headboard with your hands. He had you folded in on yourself and completely at his mercy. Your thoughts started to muddle together as he choked you.

Releasing the pressure on your throat, he moved a hand down between your legs - only sliding his fingers across and teasing your hole. You were wet enough to take all of him, but he wouldn't even give you a finger.

"Why are you such a prick?" you bucked your hips as he grazed over your clit, "fucking tease."

"Should I record you and show you just how much of a whiny brat you're being?"

You quieted at the threat. Neither of you had done such a thing before. He tutted. "I see that worry in your eyes," his fingers left you as he walked towards a cabinet in the room. To your surprise, he pulled out a tripod all ready to go, and fiddled with it as he placed his phone on it. He set it facing you on the bed as you squirmed.

"Yellow," you said clearly. It was easy to notice his tone slightly shift and his back straighten slightly as he walked back to you. He had gone over the safeword with you a million times. He knew that yellow didn't mean to stop, but you knew he was scared to take things too far.

Returning back to you, he leaned over your body like before, this time rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. He thought you couldn't, but you noticed his attentive gaze.

"There, now everyone can see your cunt. See you get off on being put in your place, little minx."

You settled into his touch, swearing as he shoved a finger inside of you. He pumped in a few times. The sensation had you in heaven. He always told you that as soon as he touched you, you'd lose a few brain cells.

"All this for me?" he moaned.

"Because you're touching me like that," you weakly argued, trying to ignore how good he felt.

"You let me use you so easily. You humans are so fascinating."

Your face scrunched up and you let out a loud whine. You could feel yourself getting close already.

"Are you gonna cry just from me fingering you?"

"Oh, shut up!"

He sped up, wet sounds coming from your cunt as he fucked you with his fingers.

Swearing, you came around him, hips bucking as he helped you finish. He let you sit there for a moment as you cooled down. You were always exhausted after, which you had assumed was because he was essentially acting as some sort of incubus.

"Let's take a break," he'd said, releasing you from the golden strings that kept you up.

"We'll come back to this later. You still have some anger I can fuck out of you another time."

[cannedbeefaroni]

What's the betting that mr manipulate, mansplain, malewife, Calvin acts like a pissy, jealous little brat when he wants your attention and/or he wants you to hate fuck him. And you know what it would work everytime, like call me a fucking slut again you whore I dare you.

He can't keep getting away with it!!

I LIKE YOUR THINKING ANON LEMME WRITE THIS

Summary: Your boyfriend is an annoying brat so you try to put him in his place.

Content: SMUT (MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT), SLUTSHAMING, DEGREDATION, HATEFUCK, femdom, malesub, switch, maledom, femsub, oral sex, p in v sex, Calvin is a piece of shit

Reader is referred to as you/yours and has AFAB genitalia

There you were, lounging on Calvin’s couch in deafening silence. You could hear a wall clock somewhere in the house ticking, and it was driving you insane. You tried to keep to yourself, doing whatever on your phone to occupy yourself while he sat across from you on his laptop, shaking his leg. You glanced over at him, noticing how clearly still upset he was, and you sighed, realizing you had to address the situation once again. 

“Cal, what’s on your mind,” you shoved your phone in your pocket, turning all your attention towards him, but he remained preoccupied. 

“What do you mean? I’m absolutely fine,” he said nonchalantly with a slight sarcastic tone. 

“Oh my g- Cal, if you’re gonna act like a baby over this then you’ll never get over it,” you spat while walking over to him to shut his laptop and force direct eye contact. He rolls his eyes. 

“Look, I’m just saying, am I so wrong and crazy for being mad about you talking to men who are clearly trying to flirt with you? Especially right in front of me?” he whined, making your blood boil. 

“What the hell are you talking about? All this just because one guy was bothering me today?”

“Yeah, well, you were engaging him.”

“Because he wouldn’t leave me alone! God, what was I supposed to do?” you crane your neck downward, glaring at him sitting so smugly on the couch looking up at you. 

“I dunno, maybe yell at the guy ‘hey, fuck you, I have a boyfriend, fuck off’ and don’t make them think they have a chance with you?” he jeers.

“I don’t wanna cause a scene in public! I’m not an immature brat like you.”

“Yeah, well at least I’m not a slut,” he says under his breath, causing you to laugh.

“Oh yeah? Huh? Tell me how you really feel, Calvin. Go ahead,” you exclaim with a mixture of anger and amusement. He shrinks into his seat, but he’s still smiling. 

“I bet you did that on purpose. You knew what you were doing when you decided to go out today in that tiny dress. I could see your whole world in that thing, and I’m pretty sure everyone else could too!” his bratty tone was grating. You seethed, staring at him with narrowed eyes. 

“If you’re trying to get on my nerves it’s working,” you say through gritted teeth. “What are you trying to get out of this?” you lean against the back of the couch, pinning him in place with your arms on either side of him.

“You’re the one making this into a big deal,” he whispers. 

“Do you like it when I get mad at you?” you lean in, staring him down. You begin crawling onto the couch, your knees pressing into the edge of the cushions. “Because right now I wanna kill you.” 

“No,” he sinks into the couch, tensing up. 

“Then why won’t you stop fucking smiling?” your face inches closer to his as you sneer. 

“Because you’re cute when you’re mad,” he grins at you, pushing you over the edge.

“Shut the fuck up,” you slap your hand over his mouth, and he gasps against it. He looks up at you with wide eyes. “Are you kidding? This is really what you wanted out of all this?” you stare into him, and he nods frantically. “You little shit-” you push him down against the couch and climb on top of him, tightly pinning him down. He whimpers with each of your movements, making you lash out, telling him to shut up again. You bring yourself up so you’re sitting on his chest, dangerously close to his face. You pull off your panties from under your skirt, and toss them aside. You get up and hover over his head. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Y-yeah,” he whines under you. 

“Then you’re gonna have to beg for it, slut,” you spat, resting your upper body on your elbows as you kept your pelvis elevated in position. 

“Please, sit on my face,” he mumbles breathlessly. 

“You can do better than that. After that stunt you pulled, you gotta try harder,” you tease. 

“P-please… ma’am,” he whispers. 

“What?”

“Please! Please fuck my face, ma’am. Please let me be your good boy,” he cried out, body convulsing with each breath, making you laugh. 

“God, you sound so stupid when you get like that,” you taunt as you lower yourself, sitting on his face. The second his mouth makes contact, he mouths at your clit, licking it. You don’t hold your weight and let yourself onto him, and he doesn’t oppose. He wraps his arms around your thighs as he eagerly laps you up. His tongue drags to your hole, licking it in circles before sticking it in. He’s madly making out with your pussy as fluids drip down his chin, and you just hang your head down, watching him grovel underneath. His tongue fucks you frantically, and his lips suck on your folds.Your fingers lace through his hair, pushing it back to get a better view of his desperate eyes, then you grab it forcefully. He whines into your pussy as you ride his face. Desperately, he stares up at you, eyes glimmering. You throw your head back in ecstasy, moaning loudly as he whimpers against your pussy. “You better not be fucking touching yourself, you little whore,” you look behind yourself to see his lower half, and he’s palming himself over his pants. You clench your thighs around his face, suffocating him. He squeals, flailing around a little before tapping your thigh to stop. You lift yourself up, letting him catch his breath. His face is beet red, his glasses are askew and slightly fogged up, and the area around his mouth is soaked. “You’re so much prettier when you shut the fuck up,” you coo at him, demeaningly. 

You move down his body and sit on his thighs so you can pull his pants down. His cock springs out, harder than you expected it to be. It bobs against his stomach, red and dripping with precum. You watch it twitch before giving it a few jerks. “So easy. You’re ready to cum just from me sitting on your face.”

“I’m not even close,” he smirks, causing you to grip him tightly, making him whimper in pain. 

“I’d fuck you, but I don’t know if you can even last a minute like this,” you demean as you tightly and slowly stroke his cock. 

“I can last!” he whines. You let go of his aching dick, and he moans desperately at the lack of contact. You grind on his cock torturously slow, and his breathing hitches. Your hand finds his neck, grabbing it as you rut your hips in a circular motion. 

“Are you gonna quit being a little brat and be a good boy for me?” you sneer.

“Mmh,” he turns his head, looking away. 

“Look at me,” you grab his face, squishing his cheeks as you force him to look at you. 

“Mhm. Yes ma’am,” he nods. 

“Good. I wanna use this pretty cock of yours,” you hum, listening to him mewl in pleasure from the way you degrade him. 

You lower yourself onto his swollen dick slowly as he gasps from the sensation. His mouth hangs open as he throws his head back. You began riding him shallowly, leaning forward directly over him, trapping him between your arms. You loosen your hips, swinging them in a circular motion, skin slapping against skin. You grind your hips down on him, taking him deeper, causing him to exhale sharply. His hips twitch as he leaks into you. He stares up at you desperately. 

“Oh my god- fuck, please don’t stop- don’t stop,” he cries, hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. 

“I thought you weren’t even close?” you smirk, bringing your face down to his. You slow your pace, making him groan viscerally from your long, deep strokes. 

“Fuck, you won’t stop clamping down,” he grunts while grabbing onto your hips for dear life. 

“You can’t cum until I say so,” you giggle, slowing your pace, grinding yourself on his base. He continues to grip your body with clawed fingers, grabbing at the fat of your thighs and ass. You lean down and place a sloppy kiss on his wet lips, and his hand comes up to grab the back of your neck, keeping you firmly against him. His lips part as he tilts his head, shoving his tongue down your throat. You make muffled moans against his mouth as he fucks you hard and quickly. He pulls his cock all the way out and shoves it back in all at once, making you squeal. 

“I’ll just have to make you finish first,” he pants against your lips before messily making out with you again. 

“Ugh! I hate you!” you whine, putting your head on his shoulder as he fucks you visciously with his arms squeezed around your waist. You felt like you were losing at a game of who gets to dominate.

“Yeah? You hate me so much you wanna cum all over my cock?” 

“You’re so fucking annoying!” 

“You love how I annoy you,” he grunts in your ear. You lift yourself up, hovering over him as you let your ass bounce on his lap as he fucks you. He stares at your tits as they swing in rhythm with your body, spilling from the low neckline of your top. He moves his hands up your body to your chest, groping you. You gasp as he fondles the tender flesh, and pulls your top all the way down to play with your hardened nipples. “Fuck, you’re getting so close, I can feel it.”

“Shut up!” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut from the overstimulation. You feel his lips latch onto your breast before he sucks and bites gently on it, marking the skin. 

“Come on. Cum for me,” he pulls your head down to whisper against your lips before viciously kissing you, throwing you over the edge. You scream, unable to keep your voice down. Every muscle in your lower half tenses, putting his dick in a vice. Your cunt throbs around him, and you grab his shoulders so tightly your fingers dig into them. In the midst of your orgasm, he pulls out and lifts you off of him, making you sit on your knees, blissfully unaware of him standing up in front of you. You desperately finger yourself, feeling empty, while you stare up at him pumping his cock over your face as his eyes narrow down at you. He grabs your jaw and forces your mouth open before blowing his load all over your face. It shoots out hard, and there’s a lot. You gasp and pant as he rubs the tip of his cock on your tongue to get every last bit out. Once he’s done, he glares down at you with your tongue out for a moment before telling you to swallow, and you do so thickly, cringing at the sour taste. 

“That’s not fair! I was trying to be dominant!” you whine. 

“Try harder next time,” he wipes the cum from your lip with his thumb, then brings it to his mouth, sucking it clean.

[valiantroeagleangel]

Hatefuck.

Ryan Sitkowski x female reader

Kintober day 27. Hate sex, hook-up, unprotected sex, cheating.

This one feels a bit wrong since some hate sex and cheating are involved. Don't cheat on your partner and don't break people's marriage, it's bad. But I had this headcanon of Ryan in my head and I like it very much. Please don't come at me if you don't like this trope. It's just fucking fiction and shitty porn.

That being said, enjoy my loves <3

-Go to hell Ryan it's not my fucking problem. You shouted, slamming the door as you left the recording studio.

God how much you hated Ryan. He was insufferable with you, always making you remarks and picking fights. He was so convinced that he was superior to you, always degrading you and making bad comments about you to the rest of the band.

Why the heck was his problem?

Since you started to work as a sound engineer for the band six months ago, there have been constant arguments between the two of you. The atmosphere was always so heavy that now you were just running away from him, choosing to only interact with him when it was strictly necessary.

-It's not my fault if you suck at your job. Spare us your incompetence and just quit for good. He screamed louder, not sure if you were even hearing him now.

He sighed, sinking into his chair as the other guys looked at him in disapproval.

-What is wrong with you for real? She is doing a good job on the album. Chris pinched his nose, exasperated.

-No she's not. She's a pain in the ass, always whining about everything.

-She's not Ryan, and you know it, you're just unfair to her for god knows what reason.

Chris shook his head, standing up to open the door of the studio.

-What side are you even on dude?

-Hers. Now go apologize, we have a song to finish. He paused but Ryan didn't move. Now.

Reluctantly he got up and left the room, Chris slamming the door after his passage.

Ryan looked for you through the building, complaining and cursing until he found you, taking a coffee in the break room. You turned back as you heard someone coming, your brows furrowing when you knew who it was.

-Do you really think it's time to take a coffee break? You can't capriciously leave a session like that, we're all waiting for you to come back.

Wasn't he supposed to apologize? Yeah, right but seeing you like that just made his blood rush. He did not want to apologize, he wanted to ruin you, spit out his venom on you.

You saw red, will he never let you alone?

Slamming your cup on the counter you took a few steps in his direction. Your index finger pointed in his direction in a threatening way.

-You know what your problem is, Ryan? You're weak. You're the weakest person I know. You see me as a threat for a reason that I still don't get. You want me out of your life because you feel inferior. Because you're insecure.

Unconsciously you stepped closer to him as you continued your monologue, finding yourself inches from him.

-You call me a whiner but you're the one always whining about everything. I'm not going to destroy your life so peace out, dude.

He swallowed hard, looking at you as you kept your angry gaze on him. A long silence settled between you before he decided to speak again.

-But you are fucking destroying my life. He spoke in a low voice, not sure if he was supposed to say that.

You laughed as you stepped back a bit, throwing your arms in the air.

-How the fuck am I supposed to destroy your life? I won't take your job I'm a sound engineer, not a rockstar.

You were hallucinating as you kept laughing bitterly at him.

-God, you're a mad man Ryan. How could you make it so far in life when you think like that?

Rubbing your hands on your face you went to sit on the counter, throwing your feet as he followed you closely.

-You have no idea of what you're talking about. He retorted as his fists clenched.

-Certainly not but I think that you don't know either. You're just trying to cover how much of a coward you are.

His breathing was erratic as he stepped even closer, making you swallow this time. His gaze was menacing you, his arms resting on either side of your body as he bent over you a bit.

You shut down, intimidated by his dominating figure as your stomach squeezed.

-Don’t talk about things that are beyond you.

He was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your face. Leaning on him you kept your gaze on his.

-Fucking coward.

Why were you provoking him like that when he was so close you had no idea, but the tension between you switched. Your heart started to race but not from anger, your cheeks getting hot as you realized you were only inches away from his lips.

-I'll show you how weak I am.

Without letting you have the time to protest he collapsed on you, his lips crashing on yours as his hands came to grab your hips.

Confused and taken aback you pushed him away as he bit your lips, making it bleed.

-What the fuck dude? You started even more angry than before. You're married, why are you even- Oh.

It was at this moment that you realized it. You weren't going to destroy his job, you were going to destroy his marriage.

Your eyes widening you didn't say anything more, looking at him incredulously.

-Don't you fucking dare call me a coward again. You have no idea what I've been through the last months, trying to keep you away, trying to keep me away. He sighed, leaning more on you as he lowered his voice. Trying to avoid that fucking tempting ass of yours.

You squeezed your legs together at his words, your heart racing in your chest.

-You're completely mad, Ryan. You bit your lower lip, the taste of the blood diffusing in your mouth.

-Yes I am. And it's your fault. He breathed out, nearing his mouth to yours as kept staring at your lips. You make me insane.

You didn't move, holding your breath as you saw his lips slightly brushing against yours.

-You can't do that. Your tongue came to moisturize your dry lips as your breathing accelerated. Provocation again? Really?

-You're right, I can't.

But he did it, his tongue coming to caress yours as he kissed you again.

This time you didn't push him away. You don't know why but your hands came to his hair as you let him kiss you, uncertain. Maybe you were as mad as he was. The tension between you was confusing your brain. Ryan was hot, you never just admitted it to yourself as you were blinded by the hate.

His hands quickly came to your waist, pushing you against him as his lips kept kissing you passionately. He waited for this for so long that he thought he was going to explode. But you broke apart as you pulled his hair brutally.

-Stop it, we're not doing this.

He was panting against you, his pupils were dilated looking straight at you as his chest rose violently.

-Get your shit back together Ryan, you're married for fuck sake. You breathed out, his lips already losing themselves against your neck.

But he kept coming for you, pressing himself a little further between your legs making you whimper softly. You were not even sure that he listened to a thing you said. Fuck. That was wrong.

-God, I hate you. You rolled your head back as his lips became more persistent on your skin.

Leaving your neck, they came back to yours as he started to roam his hips urgently, getting needy.

-You're not going to answer a thing I say?

-Just shut up already. How annoying you can be.

He groaned, one of his hands coming to your face, grabbing it as he kept your lips against his, kissing you again.

You didn't know what to do. The anger consumed you as his touch made you go crazy. However, you knew you needed to stop before it was too late. The image of his wife coming to your head. You already had done too much.

Still, the words disappeared in your throat as Ryan's hands came to undo the button of your jeans, quickly working himself before he could think about what he was doing.

He was going to cheat and break his marriage but right now the only thing he could think about was how much he wanted your lips back on his. The feeling was too consuming as the tension of these last months dissipated, turning into pure passion.

You were the only thing playing in his mind, your complaints the only thing he would hear and the only thing he wanted to hear.

Settling a pace rapidly, he came to pull your pants down your legs, lifting you a little. He didn't want you to think, he wanted you to give up on his touch, wanted you to help him release his obsession with you, maybe that after it would stop and you both could go back to a normal life.

-Let me touch you, just for a bit. Hoarsely he asked, his lips kissing under your ear.

You nodded, not wanting to let the words out of your mouth. All of this was becoming way too real.

At your approval one of his hands came to caress your underwear, brushing his fingers on the wet spot that was forming.

-Fuck Ryan. You moaned a bit, surprised as your hand came to cover your mouth quickly.

He smirked against your skin, starting to rub you more.

-You want this as much as I do, don't you? He laughed a bit, mocking you.

Your head rolled back as you squeezed your eyes shut, his hand passing through your underwear as he started to caress you, rubbing your clit urgently, his lips biting to the skin of your shoulder as he lowered his head.

-Stop playing you, asshole. Just fuck me already. You whined, your hips roaming against his hand as you tried to grab his belt.

Yes, you wanted this, and you wanted it now. The more he was waiting the more you thought about his marriage and you didn't want to. You were fucking up real good this time.

He chuckled bitterly, quickly helping you to take his belt off as he opened his pants, putting them and his underwear down a little bit in a sure motion.

-See? You're always whining. He groaned in your ear, pumping himself before thrusting inside of you, not losing time.

You clung on him, your arms surrounding his neck as you pushed yourself against his body. The feeling of him inside you made you dizzy, your stomach tightening on how much you liked it.

After some time of peace, he started to move again, pushing in and out as he firmly grabbed your waist.

Shit, this was good, HE was good. You couldn't think about anything else than the feeling of him filling you up, your hips starting to rock against his, eager for more and more.

You heard him moan, his lips coming for yours as he tried to cover your sounds, fucking you restlessly as he enjoyed himself a bit too much.

-This doesn't change anything. I'll hate you 'til the day I die. You breathed out against his lips.

-Continue to hate me and I will fuck you until I'm the only thing you can think about. Accentuating each one of his words with a deeper thrust making you whine under his touch.

You gasped his name, feeling him throb inside of you. The hate between you was making all of this so hot, creating a suffering pleasure. It needed to end, you were losing your mind as the passion in your stomach was rising.

Ryan was pushing himself deeply, caressing that sweet spot every time making you cry his name. You were overwhelmed by everything that was happening, his hot breath against you making your head buzz.

He was getting closer, you could feel it, his movements becoming more messy and needy. He was fucking you like a beast, his mind completely gone as he was chasing his orgasm simultaneously to yours.

And god it was working, you felt your orgasm wash over yourself, leaving you completely drained under him as you shivered in his arms. His hips still twitching as he cursed, fucking you through your release.

Instinctively he grabbed your hips firmly when you clenched over him, feeling himself lose it all inside of you as is own orgasm left him panting.

Trying to catch your breath you pushed him out of you.

-God Ryan what have we done?

You started to panic as you realized what just happened, the sweet feeling of your pleasure disappearing leaving room for guilt.

He didn't answer, stepping back as he pushed his underwear back on, the door of the room slamming open.

-Ryan what is taking you so long to apologize for god’s sak- Chris appeared, looking at you both incredulously.

Ryan turned back, looking at him shocked as he didn't even put his pants back on.

-Sorry. That was the only thing Chris said before slamming the door back violently.

You were fucked. 

[microscotch]

“I don’t really know what to think anymore. Maxxx is a great guy but he’s so possessive that I just had to make a point, you know?”

“He kinda doesn’t really want to get the message, though...”

-“How about a little exxxtra spice 🔥🔥🔥??”

- “AND TRUST ME, I FRICKIN’ CRUSHED IT THIS MORNING, RIGHT IN FRONT OF MAXXX’S EYES! I’D BE SURPRISED IF SHE’S STILL ABLE TO WA-.”

- “Dude, I SO don’t want to hear about your d-game.” 

“I don’t trust either of them. One day Roz acts all morally superior just ‘cause I was close to crashing my UFO into this hoard of degenerates, and now he brags TO ME about stealing another guy’s girl. Or maybe going for April’s implant ass is his way of dealing with me turning down his hatefuck offer? Whatever complex this qualifies as.”

-”WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING??”

-”Keeping my eyes on your fake ass, literally and figuratively.”

-”Excuse me??? First, there’s nothing fake about daily pilates with Misty Waters. Second, not into girls and third, DON’T STALK ME WHILE YOU’RE TAKING A DUMP.”

“Actually, I just wanted to piss her off.”

-“Drop that hairy piece of filth and be with me, April! We look so much hotter together, plus you can be the no name bimbo breaking my heart in all my music videos once my career really takes off!”

-”Oooo when you put it that way...”

“Maxxx really does know how to charm a girl. Who knows, maybe we truly are meant to be together after all. I mean, if he didn’t care about me, he’d just be looking for another girl as we speak.”

-“Damn April, I gotta give it to you, you really are outdoing everyone in this house!”

-”Embarrassingly low bar, let’s all be honest - I mean, Watcher, I just wasn’t sure about what I wanted. :( ”

-”Pfft, not hard when she’s living with both douchebags.”

-”Jealous much, desert queen Isabella?”

-”I just have class and don’t take every available opportunity because I’m cheap. All that talk about me having dated over 25 football players are just cruel lies!”

-”I haven’t heard anyone talk about it on here besides you-”

-“ALL. THAT. TALK.”

- Um, well, speaking of looking cheap, where’s Angie?”

“Look, the last day really SUCKED for me and I’m just trying to distract myself from the fact the guy of my dreams chose some bimbo who immediately cheated on him over me.”

“Angie is coming into the living room and all of the sudden starts tickling me. Just like the girls during my bartending days, you haven’t spoken a word to me before, neither when I pulled out a BuzzFeed article from 2017 featuring SimNation’s top 50 worst pick-up lines, or when I asked her for a mint to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth yesterday. Just now when you’re lonely and desperate - I suddenly exist!”

-”Get your claws away from me you freak!”

-”Did YOU OUT OF EVERYONE just call me a freak??? And who put that horrid music on, sounds like 8th graders during band rehearsal after discovering MySpace.”

-”You mean my mixtape I’m aggressively dancing to??”

-”WHAT? NO MAXXX, NEVER!!!! YOUR MUSIC CANNOT BE DESCRIBED IN WORDS!!”

-”Cabs are here!”

“I’m meeting up with this girl I ran into at the club yesterday. I just knew the moment I saw her she was something special... reminds me, should ask for her name again.”

“So everyone is having a good time, we’re dancing, it’s great. And suddenly, out of nowhere...she kisses me.”

-“Oh baby, I couldn’t be more turned on by you than right now, in your sweat stained maxis tracksuit.”

-”Let’s take this somewhere more private, shall we? ;)”

“Maxxx and I need to figure out where we’re at. If we really are ready for a relationship together.”

-“April, I love you, but honestly I think only I deserve you, so I’m ready for this relationship thing if that means I won’t be seeing you near these out of your league morons ever again. It’s unbearably insulting to my looks and charm seeing what the guys you decided are my actual competition look like.”

-“Your face looks just like the Sector 6 aliens I would sometimes see on vacation at Sector 8, so grotesquely deformed I always used to wonder how their organs were even remotely working... say, what do you do for a living?”

“Maybe it was the amount of bubbles clouding her judgment or something, but as much as I can’t stand the girl, this was honestly sad to watch.”

-”Performing human experimentation. But my wife and I are certainly not opposed to extending our selection of interesting subjects.”

-”I mean, yeah, it doesn’t have to be a two-men show but that’s one weird metaphor.”

-“It’s official, these clownshows are dating now. But they’re gonna break up so fucking fast, trust me.”

-“I hate them so much.”

“Angie is my only friend in this house, so obviously I had to let her know about everything I just saw. So pathetic.”

-“Maxxx, can I maybe talk to you for a sec?”

-”Angie, look, you’re a nice girl and will surely find someone, but Maxxx doesn’t want anything from you.”

-”NOT THE THIRD PERSON THING AGAIN, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME??”

“It was going great, the girl and I relocated to the hot tub and then... suddenly I see everything flashing white! I just thought “Wow, must be the best woohoo I ever had.” ‘til I realize...”

“I almost died, would you think this chick even moved a muscle? She just sat there grinning, like she was enjoying it. So no idea if we’re dealing with an actual succubus or if she’s just got some crazy fetish.”

“And that’s not even the worst thing that happened.”

-“CRAP!”

-”Crap indeed.”

[ficbrish]

Black Spot (aka Shenko Pirates) Chapter 7

"It’s a sickness" [AO3]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: Prompt Fic, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Enemies to Lovers, Pirate Captain Shepard, Navy Admiral Kaidan Alenko, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Renegade Kaidan Alenko, Biotic Shepard (Mass Effect), Some Plot, POV Alternating, Eventual Smut, Shameless Smut, Oral Sex, Rough Sex

[[TW/CW: Aggressive throat fucking, penetration, injuries, illness]]

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NSFW content below!

She didn’t want to breathe. The Admiral was the answer, shoving himself far down her throat.

Shepard was floating again, kneeling on the solid riverbank. She could hear, feel, and taste how close he was to the edge.

Her lips abandoned his dick with a sloppy pop, just to watch the denial play over his face. His expression screwed up with a surprised groan. Strain brewed across his brow and tied a bright knot in her stomach.

Shepard waited, watching.

“Hatefuck my face, Admiral,” she demanded, staring boldly into his glazed eyes.

His hands went to the sides of her head. They were warm and guided her mouth back to the tip of his cock. It throbbed, and he whined shoving it between her lips.

His thrusts were harder, faster. Years of broiling resentment from her thwarting his every attempt at victory, every chance for a normal life, went into his movement. Down into her mouth. Rough as he could be without compromising her safety. He let it all out, playing the choking sounds gurgling from her throat like they were an instrument.

“I’m gonna—” he started to pull out, but Shepard tightened her grip on his thighs to let him know he didn’t have to.

“Oh god,” he said, and she felt a liquid warmth coat the bottom of her throat. She pushed him deeper in, swallowing and sucking until she had to pull away gasping.

“You are—” he muttered, astounded, “God, that felt…!”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, “A thank you for your thank you, Admiral.”

“Don’t call me that. Use my name.”

“Kaidan?”

“Yeah. I like when you say it.”

The gravel in his voice made her spine shiver.

“So,” he asked, “How do I taste?”

Her eyes widened, taken aback by another happy revelation, “Oh?”

“Tell me how I taste.”

His eyes were serious. It was an order, but a game. They held her without trapping her.

Shepard searched for an answer. Why did her mind keep wanting to say “almonds” and “a summer day”? Why did it keep insisting that his skin tasted like heat?

Of course, telling him any of that was out of the question. “Better than I expected,” she admitted, still on her knees.

He raised his eyebrow as if to say, That’s all I get?

“Good enough I’d do it again.”

“You’d want to?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She smirked and stood up.

Kaidan got down and propped himself up against a tree. His face was dreamlike, sitting there half-hard and spilling out of his still-open breeches.

Shepard felt her heart and blood conspire against her.

“We should climb up and start boiling water,” she suggested before she got too carried away.

It’s what they were supposed to be doing when they got dressed the first time. The moment Alenko had his breeches back on was the moment she’d decided to stroke his cock and tell him to undo those buttons.

She could feel the ache of him in her esophagus as vividly as she still felt him between her thighs.

But they needed water and she really needed to keep her hands off him. So up they climbed and made their camp. Just like yesterday, they made their fire big enough to hold four coconut halves at once. Two for the buckets, two for them. It was a good setup.

Minus all the time to kill. What’s that thing people say about a watched pot?

The silence that fell between them was different from any of the ones before. Hard borders had been unbelievably crossed, landing them in entirely new territory. The permission to seek whatever they wanted from each other while they tended the fire made their nerves spark with possibility, and all their history still lived vividly underneath it.

“Don’t get excited, because I still hate you but…”

“Okay?”

“It’s nicer now that we’re fucking,” she said, “Turns out you have a use after all.”

Kaidan raised his eyebrow and sighed, “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Not meant to be an insult.”

The water was starting to steam and would soon bubble. Shepard swallowed the dryness in her throat in anticipation of her first sip.

“You ever imagine something like this would happen?” she asked, “Us two keeping each other alive?”

“Ah, no. Definitely not,” he chuckled.

Shepard added another stick to the fire, “And the other thing?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Not really in the habit of fantasizing about the people I try to bring to justice.”

She rolled her eyes, “Boring.”

“So, what about you?” he asked, “Thinking about me like that?”

“Uniform doesn’t do anything for me. Turns me off actually.”

“Funny. I find it has the other effect.”

“Yeah, well I don’t fuck pigs.”

Kaidan awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Until now, I guess.”

“You don’t look like a pig without your uniform on.”

The water was boiling. They let it go for a while before removing the coconuts from the fire to cool. Moving them slowly from the flames with her biotics, Shepard brought them to rest on stacked rocks that elevated them from the ground.

“Do you think anyone is coming?” Shepard asked, watching their precious, clean water evaporate in clouds of steam.

“I don’t know,” Kaidan admitted.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“We uh…”

“Yep.”

They’d left a little daylight for their return back to the beach. The lowering sun glared at their negligence, highlighting all their mistakes.

Kaidan sighed, “We have to do something about that, don’t we?”

They kept forgetting about their shelter. It was really just some leaves and shit on the ground with other leaves tied up over it.

“I mean…” Shepard suggested, “Unless we just wanna die here. Exposure to the elements is a pretty classic way to go.”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Navy Boy? Let’s get to work!” She gave him a little spank, and he tried hard not to laugh.

They worked into the night and almost forgot to set up their fire. Their shelter was finally safe; a true roof over their heads covered a sturdy platform that kept them slightly above the ground. The floor was made from thin tree trunks tied together with plant fiber, and the leaves from those trees were placed over it as padding. They moved their fire slightly further down the beach, where its warmth would still reach them, but a strong wind wouldn’t cause their shelter to catch.

When they were done, Kaidan made a joke, “I know we said this wasn’t serious, but I believe we’ve just moved in together.”

Shepard laughed harder than she should.

They were lying down in their new and improved shelter to celebrate its construction, on their backs next to each other. Shepard rolled over to her side and placed a hand on Kaidan’s chest.

“We could consummate our new quarters,” she suggested, “If you want…”

He made a show of shrugging, “For some folks, it’s tradition.”

“Well… If it’s a tradition!”

Kaidan grabbed her hair to bring her close and nibbled her ear, “I am a pretty traditional man.”

His voice raised the hair on the back of her neck. Her arms prickled like she was cold, but Kaidan’s body was so warm close to hers.

“Hurry up and put your cock in me,” she pleaded.

“Not yet.”

Kaidan took his time. He seemed to kiss every part of her body, excluding her one forbidden spot. She was so wet by the time he put himself in that he seemed to slip, hitting the back of her walls as soon as he entered her.

The full moon was waning, but the sea remained rough. She screamed the name he asked her to. Kaidan. It crashed with the waves.

Alenko held her while they slept, but it was just for warmth. They only had each other and foliage for blankets. Nothing else was behind the way he wrapped his body around hers, or in the way she squeezed his arms close.

They were just cold.

“Good morning,” he said, and kissed her behind the ear.

Shepard felt herself throbbing before she even opened her eyes. She wondered if he could feel her heart pounding in his lap, her backside resting against his other good morning.

She moved his hands under her shirt, onto her breasts. He pressed his pelvis into her back and moaned sleepily.

A lightness pulled at her throat as she spoke, “Get us water and then use me however you want.”

Unlike other biotics, strong feelings rarely made her flare bright blue, but Kaidan’s touch lit her nerves on fire in such a way that the mere anticipation of his hands made her glow all over from arousal.

An Alliance Admiral should run away from such a sight, but there was absolutely no hesitation in his fingers when they dipped under her belt. His tongue still snaked along her neck no matter what light emanated from it. Her brightness even seemed to encourage him, made him more eager.

It was getting harder to reconcile that Kaidan and Admiral Alenko of the Alliance Navy were the same person.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“What happens if nobody comes?”

“You ask that a lot lately.”

“Has it been a week yet?”

“I don’t know.”

In the whole history of Earth and all its sentient species, how many fire pits have seen an honest confession land over their coals?

Tears came out of the pirate Captain’s eyes, “I miss them.”

“Your crew?”

“Yeah.”

“Say I wasn’t an Alliance Admiral,” he offered, “Would telling me about them help?”

She nodded, wiping her tears away.

Kaidan sighed and made a decision, “I wouldn’t—”

“No,” she stopped him, “I can’t risk that.”

He’d forgotten what her mistrust looked like. It was clear across her face, their reality. It blazed in her eyes and struck him in a way he didn’t understand.

“Right,” he agreed, playing with the sand under his feet. “What if you didn’t tell me their names?”

“Because you wouldn’t know who I’m talking about when I mention an exiled Thessian princess?” she quipped sourly.

“Right.”

“Is there anybody you miss?” Her question was genuine. It came from a place that wanted to know if they at least shared what they couldn’t talk about.

“No,” he sighed, unable to give her the answer that would make her feel less alone.

Of course they were grateful for each day that came. It meant they were alive. It also meant they were still lost.

“Has it been a week yet?”

“I think so.”

Whether or not anyone would find them, they'd secured their needs. Their roof proved itself worthy against the next vicious rain. They even enjoyed their routines, coming and going from the river to the beach.

Reaching into each other filled the hours whenever they weren’t just working to survive.

Everything was going to be okay. They could wait.

But one particular concern kept nagging at Kaidan’s anxiety. Every day, he checked and washed out Shepard’s wound. His frown grew deeper every time.

Until one day, her skin got too hot and the next morning, she didn’t wake up. Shepard was still breathing but wouldn’t open her eyes.

“I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to take you to justice.”

He still meant those words when he slid his sword through her shoulder like a knife through butter.

Her skin was so hot you just had to be nearby to know she was burning.

When she wouldn’t respond to her name, Kaidan realized he was alone. No one was coming. Just like when she plummeted into the sea, he was all she had.

“Shit!” he cursed.

[Next Chapter]

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[adelaidedrubman]

i'd like to hear more about the johnjessie hallmark au :)c or even jenna and faith in the hallmark au whichever you feel more like doing (--direwombat)

THANK YOU BELOVED! sorry this took so long it got buried in my asks, but digging it back out in the spirit of the season. also apologies i got really carried away and did both and they’re both super long (partially bc i realize i’m running out of time to actually get anything written before christmas and still want the ideas Out There). DO NOT feel obligated to actually read any of this shit. also warning for sex and drug references on both. you know hallmark

so the johnjess hallmark au actually does in fact exist in full story form for anyone who would like to read it. the concept behind it was basically to be a fun little experiment in parodying and playing with genre conventions the characters don’t fit with, both general and fandom specific. but the basic outline of the story is: 

takes place pre brothers reunion, whilst john is still john duncan and in midst of gentrifying his hometown. (play on the hallmark returning to your hometown thing).

in this universe jestiny’s family never moved from kentucky to north dakota when she was 17. and with the appalachian trail still in reach, she decides to blow the small college fund she’d built for herself on living her dream of hiking it instead. 

she ends her journey in december in rome, georgia (this is technically ~70 miles away from where the appalachian trail ends irl, but it was close enough i decided to fudge it), wandering into a hotel that had previously (at the time jessie had started her hike) been a motel 6, but had since been torn down and replaced with a luxury hotel. and she doesn’t realize it’s christmas eve! 

she knows she can’t afford the hotel, but asks to use the phone because she just wants to call her mom to wish her a merry christmas<3 she’s america’s sweetheart<3

the hotel owner (john, naturally) Takes An Interest, and offers her a free room and invite to an extravagant dinner in the spirit of christmas. 

uh-oh! genre subversion time! jestiny is real life aware of how extremely predatory and disingenuous this all is and goes on a long winded diatribe dragging john for it and telling him he’s a selfish creep and no one will actually be thankful for anything he does ever and will only resent him and everyone like him. 

he’s like “so true!” and gets a boner about that.

jessie explains to the reader she hasn’t gotten laid in 6 months due to the appalachian trail thing and will be meeting john for dinner. 

they spend an hour or so verbally berating each other and being divorced. john pries into jessie’s actual reasons for avoiding her family and calls the dutiful daughter act out for the fraud that it is, possibly ambiguously admits to murder; jessie calls john out for gentrification while not actually knowing the word for gentrification (this was legitimately so annoying to write it honestly could have saved me 3k if she knew the word), calls him cringepathetic for needing to trick someone into having christmas dinner with him in the first place. somewhere in the middle jessie mentions she likes when it snows on christmas, john tells her he’s never seen that happen in georgia. they go back to fighting. it is not very hallmark. 

they resolve to hatefuck. 

on the way to do that they cut through the courtyard. 

re-engage hallmark mode: just in time, it’s snowing! they pause the hatefuck to experience childlike wonder and share a hallmark moment kiss and sit out and watch the snow instead. (another fun fact i found out while researching is that rome, georgia did receive snowfall on christmas eve for the first time in over a century in 2010 — which is another slightly off for their timeline but close enough i could fudge it thing.) 

to share new johnjess content with anyone who has read the original: i’ve also kicked around writing a morning after Christmas Day sequel to the hallmark fic proper but still just in the brainstorming stages because there’s a few different plots i’m considering. but here’s the possibility that’s been on the mind most. (and now that i’ve basically outlined it i feel obliged to go with this version…) 

they wake up the next day sick as shit because they sat out in the snow (what did you think was going to happen idiots this isn’t a hallmark movie) and have to spend all christmas day in painsuffering because they wanted their romantic snow watching time. (and also realistically probably fucked raw in the freezing cold five minutes after the camera cutaway because they can’t engage gratification delay long enough to make it to a bedroom in any universe ever). 

they still spend it together and attempt to take care of each other while bickering and dying. 

jessie screams at john for suggesting they order soup via room service because she’s taking a definitely principled and not just contrarian stance that he’s satan for having anyone staffed on christmas day at all. she berates him and storms out of the bedroom and starts rifling around his cabinets. 

he tantrums and yells and pouts by doing a line and chugging some scotch and storming out of the suite altogether to go for an angrywalk. it ends at the front desk and he (while visibly intoxicated) tells the kid at reception to go home, it’s christmas to Prove A Very Important Point to jessie. kid says it’s fine he doesn’t even celebrate christmas and john yells and tells him to shut up and start celebrating it because he’s spreading the christmas spirit.

scene of john trying to high and drunk and fever delirious work a minimum wage job for the first time in his life. 

he (probably while ignoring guests) makes a series of angry phone calls to his own room to brag to jessie he’s working the front desk himself on christmas, while sick, he hopes that proves to he’s not the spoiled, helpless elitist she thinks he is. 

she doesn’t answer, in his room or hers, which causes him to have a second freakout that she’s left entirely. 

probably right as he’s in the middle of max panic tantrum and getting ready to throw the lobby christmas tree into the fireplace because this is his worst christmas ever and he no longer believes in the holiday season, jessie arrives and asks what the fuck he’s doing. 

and she has soup! It Was All A Misunderstanding, jessie explains she was making homemade soup and didn’t answer the phone because she was trying to find where the fuck he was to give it to him. 

john changes his mind again and decides this means the woman he’s known for twenty-four hours and spent most of those twenty-four hours fighting with is the love of his life and his personal Christmas Miracle after all. 

they eat soup in front of the fireplace and cuddle. 

cut to new years. jessie in fact never left the hotel and they’re still “happily” (you know. by their standards) together, dressed up at a party and just finishing up a regularly scheduled fight to share a midnight kiss! 

the front desk kid from the scene before walks in and interrupts them to serve john with a religious discrimination lawsuit for demanding he celebrate christmas. fin. 

AAAAAND i’m doing faithjen too because i do want to write them a hallmark fic too even though i probably won’t in time. same idea as johnjess, this is mostly parody and the absurdity of fitting the characters into the setting because they are Not A Hallmark Couple. 

their hallmark au would start basically the same as their canon story though — jenna is a hardworking grad student who travels to the offbeat but picturesque rural paradise of hope county for an important project for her thesis, and finds herself increasingly charmed by its residents and smalltown values. (read: researching a cult and wants to stay there and continue studying them like bugs and starts helping them with unethical drug experiments too.) 

also since it’s hallmark, rather than jenna and her previous girlfriend from california having broken up over six months before she ever left for hope county when her gf moved to nyc for art school, they’re still together and she’s the Evil Current Partner from the Big City. 

cue opening scene phone call between jenna and Big City Gf (i’m sorry i never named her), gf is complaining jenna is still stuck in that Stupid Town and Nothing There is worth studying because it’s a Dumb Hick Town, she should just hurry up phone in her thesis and fly to new york in time for the Swanky Nondenominational Holiday Party. on the nose shot of jenna watching from the window of the chemistry lab as faith dance around barefoot in the snow outside and saying “i think there’s lots of interesting things to study here.” 

end call. jenna continues to stare wistfully out the window as she injects someone with terribly painful experimental research chemicals.

she turns her attention back to the station where she’s producing the evil experimental research chemicals and does more science stuff, faith walks in and says she shouldn’t be working this late on christmas eve. jenna says she has to, chemistry has no holidays and matter changes at its own schedule she can’t just rush, the whole bliss batch would go to waste if she left now. faith says let it, there are more important things, playfully chastises jenna for not having christmas spirit and asks her to please come to the christmas eve gathering she and her brothers are having at john’s ranch. jenna considers it, gets a text notification from Big City Gf, then declines. 

faith leaves disappointed and jenna gets back to work, but shortly after she does there’s an explosion at her lab station and she’s knocked out. 

while she’s passed out, she has a vision in which she’s visited by Three Ghosts. 

the first, the ghost of christmas past, who is a woman named lana she’s never actually met before, shows jenna the last few christmases she spent — writing journal articles alone in her apartment while Big City Gf parties. a woman named selena she’s also never met takes over to show her the last christmas she was happy, making christmas cookies with her sister. 

the second ghost, the faith seed who jenna knows, shows her a vision of christmas present — the seed family at the ranch. they’ve gathered in the kitchen to see dinner was burned save for one dish. joseph gives a speech about how it’s alright, what really matters is that they’re together for christmas. they all dine on nothing but watery mac and cheese, but they’re happy. a christmas lesson. 

the third ghost is one of the angels, who brings jenna to a church cemetery to see joseph officiating a funeral for an out of town scientist who died alone in her lab. a tearful faith sings a dirge, then places a bliss flower on a grave, which is — gasp, jenna’s! (and Big City Gf was too busy to come to the funeral…) 

jenna is woken by faith shaking her to consciousness, asks what day it is you know the drill. faith says it’s christmas eve and explains she heard an explosion and came back in. 

jenna tells her about the dream she had while she was passed out. 

faith says it must have been a special christmas vision, given to her from a divine source to show her she needs to have faith in christmas. (actually that’s probably the fic title. have faith in christmas. ha.) 

jenna says logically speaking she’s pretty sure it was the high volume sudden burst of gasses from the hallucinogenic drugs she was producing being released into the air. but it did give her an idea. 

cut to montage of them going around town replacing all the regular mistletoe with bliss mistletoe to secretly dose people. ends with them reaching for the same doorway to hang blisstletoe in and ending up beneath it. hallmark kiss under the mistletoe fadeout. fin.