#everyone is sending you dirty look after dirty look and waiting for you to burn something or drop plates and he's just GRINNING

[workofheart]

extra help | gojo satoru

what’s a teacher to do when his student is building up so much cursed energy? help her get it under control, of course.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: smut, 18+ (minors dni), teacher/student relations (reader is of age), fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, unprotected sex (do not do this), lowkey corruption, squirting, exhibitionism (?), creampie, gojo refers to himself as “teacher” because i said so

note: barely edited, something to ease the brainrot. gojo satoru hollow me challenge. 

“Can you maybe, I don’t know, shut the fuck up?”

The jab spews out of your mouth before you can stop it. Your filter is long gone, the thoughts that pop into your head forming into verbal words without the chance to even process them. Once you hear it, you mentally slap yourself. Now you just look like an asshole.

“Jeez, no need to be a bitch about it,” mutters Nobara. She rests on the concrete steps on her elbows, appearing utterly disinterested with her head tossed back and eyes closed, soaking in the fresh air.

“I’m not being a bitch.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!”

“You kind of are,” Megumi says quietly, shrugging slightly when your incredulous expression finds his to be stoic and unmoving. He leans down to scratch behind one of his dog’s ears. His nonchalance boils your blood even further, effectively working you up past your melting point. A bitter laugh leaves your mouth.

“...You motherfucker-”

“Good morning, everybody!”

You sigh, lips hanging open with the rest of your insult frozen where it was interrupted. From over the small hill behind you, Gojo Satoru greets everyone with a bright energy you aren’t capable of returning this early in the day. 

You try your best to shake it off. The other students wave back happily as you sulk, aimlessly stretching your arms over your head in an attempt to push out the thousand things running through your mind, not one of which you’re capable of dealing with.

And maybe it is a good morning - the sun is out, the air is cool, there’s not a breeze passing by to mess up your hair. It’s a lovely day to be training. Megumi has been walking his dogs around the field, Yuuji has been racing himself from one end to the other, meanwhile the others take turns sparring. The springtime weather is rewarding, which is why it’s such a shame you can’t enjoy it.

Gojo reaches up a hand to lift one side of his blindfold. Though he’s standing all the way over on the steps, you can see his eyes clearly, crystalline blue and staring with scrutiny. The man leans forward into his gaze, and the way he’s inspecting you soon irritates you further.

“What’s with all the cursed energy?” he asks, letting his blindfold fall over his eye again. 

Yuuji perks up at the comment from where he’s been sitting after his run, pulling out blades of grass between his fingertips. “So it’s not just me?” he pipes up, pushing himself up to his feet. He seems relieved, turning his attention to you. “I thought maybe you just had a bad day but it seems like it’s seeping off you all the time now.”

Your lips press into a thin line as your eyelids droop in annoyance, trying to think up a reasonable answer quick. Unfortunately, you don’t get the time to do so.

“I don’t need to see it to feel it,” Maki adds. She finishes tying up her laces, objectivity unmoving with the deadpan spreading across your features. Your jaw tenses. “Didn’t want to say anything in case it would make you angrier.”

“Too late!” you snap, huffing as you place your arms over your chest. The number of eyes on you has your cheeks burning, and paired with your current vexation, makes you feel even worse.

“Well, what are you angry about?” Yuuji asks. 

“I’m not angry about anything.”

“That sounds a little defensive,” Gojo comments.

“You seem frustrated, that’s all.” Yuuji looks at you with a genuine curiosity that makes it hard to be mad at him. His doe eyes couldn’t possibly imagine what the real issue at hand is.

“Yeah, she’s frustrated all right,”  Nobara juts in. Her tone is whiney and annoyed, and you hope the glare you send her will shut her up, but she acts as if she doesn’t see it, only looking down at her nails in distaste. Then comes the zinger. “It’s because she hasn’t gotten laid in months.”

“That is not true!” you yell, but the obvious rage bubbling out of you gives it away. 

“Cursed energy can build from that?”

“It would explain a lot.”

“That sounds definitely defensive.”

“Shut up!” you shout, throwing your hands over your face to hide your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Then you’re sitting back on the field, hanging your head low over your knees. Quietly, you mutter, “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”

☆☆☆

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

The walk here had been nerve wracking enough. Your heart had been stuck in your throat since the track this morning, if not from the sheer embarrassment of Nobara telling everyone you were sexually frustrated, then surely from the way Gojo had asked you to meet with him later in an old classroom rather seriously before walking off.

It scared you half to death upon hearing it, and just thinking about it scared the other half, so you’re hanging on by the thinnest of threads. The others comments hadn’t helped either, teasing about the frightening methods he’d use to dispel the energy, or how he’d berate you for being so stupid, or whatever else the maniac of a man had to offer.

Gojo leans back lazily in his chair, long legs thrown over the desk for his comfort and leisure. He stretches, letting out a satisfied groan with his arms straightened behind his head as you close the door behind you. 

“About time you got here. Been waiting forever.”

The lights are off, but evening sun pours in through the wall of windows that look out over the courtyard to brighten the room. He tosses a small apple plush above him with a smooth flick of his wrist, catching it on its down arc with ease. It looks like a marble with how it sits in his massive palms.

“Well, this wing is on the other side of campus,” you swallow, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly. That reminds you...“Why are we this far, anyway?”

He sighs, placing the toy back down at the top of his desk and resting his chin on his palm. You can feel his eyes on you through his blindfold. “To solve your problem, of course.”

“My… my problem? No, I don’t have any problems,” you say with a shake of your head as genuine as you can muster, a nervous smile flashing across your expression as he stands. His hand trails along the desk as he moves around it. When you get the feeling he doesn’t believe you, you start again, “If it’s about what Nobara said, it’s really no big deal-” 

“While you’re a talented sorcerer, you’re not a very good liar.” He comes to a stop in front of you, towering over your small frame. His head is turned down toward you but you refrain from making eye contact. Trying to maintain your composure, you look straight into his chest and then avert your eyes to the sid, looking anywhere else in the room but him - the chalkboard, the windows, the posters on the wall - that is, until he takes your chin in his hand and tugs your face up to look at him directly.

He’s taken off his blindfold, the black cloth crumpled in his palm and already tossed to the floor.

The way you’re staring at him, that desire that lies just below the fear, has his dick tenting in his pants. When he focuses, he can see the cursed energy radiating from your body, dark and cloudy as it surrounds you. “Yuuji’s right, it’s practically seeping from you,” he coos, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

He drinks in your apprehension with a sadistic sort of delight, and you don’t miss the feel of his eyes as they trace down your body. “My student is struggling,” he says tenderly, tapping his index finger along your cheek lightly. “What kind of teacher would I be if I didn’t help?” 

He eats up the way you look at him, swept away and hazy, your brain turning to mush at the sound of his voice. Heat pools in your panties, and the subtle manner in which your thighs shift against each other is not lost on him.

The tension in the air is electrifying. Leaning down to your ear, he says what’s been on his mind for weeks. “Don’t think I can’t hear you at night, touching yourself, trying so hard to make it go away on your own.”

His words leave your throat dry and stomach churning. Your face burns, thinking of him listening to your pitiful attempts to get off. Clearly, the sleepless nights of trying to cum, letting slip the small whimpers you couldn’t care to hold back, hands buried in your panties and writhing in your bed sheets, were no secret to anyone but you.

You’re almost mortified. You would be, if it wasn’t for your hot teacher standing in front of you, smiling as he remembers how pretty you sounded, offering to fuck the shit out of you to sate your frustration.

And god, just how pretty you sound. He’d never admit it sober, but the times he’s taken “random” late night walks around the buildings that have ended up at the outside of your bedroom door are far too many to count. Palming himself through his trousers, panting as he pictures you just through the slab of wood exactly how he plans on having you now.

“I...I don’t know if we should be doing this,” you mumble in a moment of clarity, gaze flickering to the window in the door that lets you see into the empty hallway just outside. Swallowing hard, scenarios of your classmates walking by, peering through, clouds your head. “What if someone…”

“They’re on the other side of campus, remember?” he teases. His fingers slide back along your jaw, brushing your hair from your forehead before settling to cup the side of your face. “You can make all the noise you want out here.”

Heat spreads through your core and inner thighs accompanied by a visible shiver, a pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The proximity alone is making you wet. His presence is overwhelming with the unimaginable power he holds over you.

His neck tilts down to reach you, hovering with his lips not a breath away from yours. Gojo waits. Tentative, you press your mouth to his and your eyes flutter shut, feeling him smile as his hands make contact with your hips. He’s gentle and slow, his lips pillowy and soft against yours, moving carefully as if not to scare you away.

He muffles a timid whimper with his mouth and takes the lead, kissing you harder and pulling you into a firm lip lock before spinning you around and walking you backwards toward the desk. Hesitant hands reach up to his shoulders, something Gojo senses immediately, shy hands working up the confidence to splay over his broad shoulders. He knows you so well by now - there’s a reason you’re his favorite student.

“Let me help, princess,” he insists, breaking away to quell your uncertainty. “You know I’m the only one who can.” Gojo’s voice is hypnotizing, his promises filling your head with a desiring haze.

Your tiny, timid fingers hanging around his neck, crawling up his nape as if searching for safety, have him reeling. He might just devour you, so cute and innocent and willing in front of him.

You’re melting into his touch as his hands squeeze your hips, rubbing up your sides until they lay a firm grasp on your hips, sitting you fully on the desk. His touch is teasing and featherlight as he drags it up your calves, hiking up your skirt to get where he wants to be, situated right between your thighs.

“None of the other guys fuck you the way you need to be fucked, right?”

He may be cocky, but it’s for good reason.

Gojo Satoru is older, he’s experienced, he knows what he’s doing. He knows you, in fact, more than you think. Don’t be fooled - he sees you sneaking off campus, sees the texts you send to the boys in the nearest town, overhears how you talk to them over the phone when you think no one is listening. He also sees how disappointed you look every time you return from one of your escapades. 

You’re mature for your age, but no one is willing to fuck you like it. Except him, of course.

A large hand cradles the back of your head to keep kissing you. His mouth is ravishing, absolutely eating up the feeble mewls that escape you. Deft fingers unbutton your uniform with ease and slip it down your shoulders to reveal your chest as if he’s done it a thousand times.

He moves to unclasp your bra, but is surprised to meet your bare skin. He pulls back from your mouth to meet your eyes, and you already know what he’s thinking with the way he looks down at you, head tilted back with a dark mirth.

“No bra?” he inquires, rolling your perky buds between his fingers, and your lack of verbal response, that guilt in the slight raise of your eyebrows, tells him everything he needs to know. “Naughty girl. Makes me think you were expecting this.” He makes you purr like a kitten, free hand kneading at your chest, coaxing out sweet little noises that make his dick throb in his pants. 

You inhale sharply at a particular tweak of your nipple that has your body tingling, arching into him. “Sir, I-” 

His mouth is on your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot below your ear, just next to your jaw. The feel of his teeth gently scraping down sends chills through your shoulders and down your back, subconsciously tilting your head to the side and exposing more to him, inviting him to your body even further.

“It’s okay, you can tell me how bad you need my cock,” he says against your skin.

Your body flushes hot beneath him. A hand cups your clothed core. The friction has your hips lifting in desperate motions for more, pushing against his fingers for some kind of relief.

“Poor thing, too horny for your own good,” he says, peering down at you. He tugs at the tiny, delicate bow sewn into the lace band of your panties, a smug expression passing over his features. “But don’t worry, teacher’s here to make you feel better.”

He hooks his pointer finger underneath the center of your panties and pulls it up, forcing the fabric taught against your slit between your folds, urging a cry to fall from your lips. You’re absolutely aching for more, pussy desperate for contact as your hips buck. His opposite thumb goes straight to your swollen clit where it bulges through the thin cotton, reducing you to whines as he applies light pressure. 

“So sensitive,” he says with a teasing lilt in his tone, caught between looking at your pussy and your dazed expression. “You want my fingers?”

He knows he’s supposed to be helping you, but he can’t stop himself with how cute you look like this. He’s already thinking of just how far he can push you, just what he can get you to admit to him.

“Yes, please,” you’re begging, pulling your lips under your teeth, and how can he say no? He has no other choice but to indulge you.

He pulls your panties to the side and finally, his long, thick fingers sink inside you without warning, pushing a lewd moan from your throat.

He groans at the way you pulse around his digits. Your walls suck him right in. “Fuck, look at your pretty little cunt. Feels good, huh?”

Your mouth falls open as you nod, staring at him through half-mast, glassy eyes. Light amusement covers his face as he works your walls diligently, curling up and massaging that spongy spot he knows you like from the sounds you’re making.

“Yeah, I know it does. Need it so bad, don’t you?”

“Yes, ah, need it so much,” you whine. At this point, you’d follow his every command, answer his every question, if it means he’ll keep doing what he’s doing. He connects his lips to yours again, swallowing up the noises that leave your throat, before moving down. He trails his mouth over your sensitive, flushed skin, burning to the touch as he leaves harsh, bruising marks behind. He’s kneeling down and throwing your legs over his shoulders without hesitation.

He has you desperate and shameless with how he’s making you feel. It doesn’t matter that he’s your teacher, it doesn’t matter that you’ll have to face him in class after the fact, all that matters is how hot and aching your core is, how bad you need him there to fix it. “More, sir, p-please.”

He groans at the name you’ve given him, that you’re addressing him by so earnestly. He never even asked you to, so when it spills out of your mouth so submissively, he can’t help the way it goes straight to his cock. “So polite, aren’t you? Let me hear you, be specific.” 

His fingers leave you clenching around nothing as he pulls them out of you, watching the string of slick stretch until it breaks. He slips them right into his mouth, licking your arousal off of his fingers, humming in delight. 

You’re fixated on his glossy, wet lips, entranced by the slight smile to his words. “Please, your mouth,” you plead breathlessly through a gulp. 

He presses a chaste kiss to the plush of your thigh, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His lips ghost over the tops of your knee socks and nip at the slight pudge that squeezes out.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs. Then, he’s diving in, latching his warm, wet mouth onto your pussy. You feel yourself gush under his lips as his tongue laves harsh strokes against your entrance. He has you quivering, your hips moving on their own accord over his face.

You squirm under his relentless tongue, swiping through your slick and spreading it all over your inner thighs. He laps at your fluttering hole before suckling your clit into his mouth, hot tongue flicking over it before releasing with a playful pop.

He thrives off of the whimpers leaving your mouth. A loud moan tears from you as his fingers plunge into you again, hands shooting to his snowy locks to ground yourself. You’re throwing your head back, keening in the firm grip he has pushing back your leg, his tongue swiping at you expertly while the pads of his fingers curl up into the spot you need him at, keeping his head pressed tight to your drooling cunt.

Pointed flicks of his tongue target your clit, puffy and sensitive, and you can’t help the way your hips buck up for more, babbling nonsense. His firm muscle prods at your hole before flattening and licking wide and short strokes up your folds.

“Aw, you wanna cum, don’t you? Gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You only have the strength to nod, eyes squeezing shut and your lips parted in choked breaths.

“Look at me,” he commands sternly, and your lids are prying open immediately, struggling to keep your gaze on him with the pleasure he’s relentlessly forcing on your body. His plump lips are lustrous with your arousal. “Go ahead. Cum.”

His eyes bore into you as your face contorts, body tensing all over as you tip over the edge. That coil in your stomach which Gojo has so masterfully built snaps like a rubber band, shattering your mind as pleasure ripples through your body. You’re still as your release surges through you, making him moan against your pussy.

“That’s it, there you go,” he says with a growl as you take your first breath after the inhibiting pleasure fades, eyes darkening as he watches you, keeping pressure on your nub with his thumb, smooth strokes working you through your high. 

He carefully helps you drop to your feet, rubbing soothing circles into your hips, planting kisses to your temples before spinning you around to face the desk. You’re wobbly, but it’s nothing he can’t compensate for with his natural strength.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” he mumbles, large hands exploring the expanse of your back. He pushes you down, gentle fingers trailing up your spine until they find their hold on your hips like they were meant to be, loving how pliant you are beneath him.

The anticipation has you dripping, heart pounding as he flips up your skirt again, pussy aching to be filled. You hear the tugging of his trousers down to the floor, and a hefty exhale as he gives himself a few strokes in his palm.

His cock, hot and heavy and hard, presses into you slowly. You feel his girth immediately, cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate his size. It’s instant relief, finally the pleasure you’ve been desperate for, a drug you have to be careful of or you might just get addicted.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”

You’re stuffed to the brim, focusing on how full you are, his fingers massaging the flesh of your ass as he gives you a moment to adjust. He feels his self-restraint thinning as you squeeze him. He’s gonna make you drool for him, make his cute innocent student into his little whore, make sure teacher’s the only one who touches you like this.

At first, his pace is slow and steady, sensual pumps that expertly drag against your gummy walls. You can feel his tip spreading you open, every burning curve and vein and ridge of his head as your pussy molds to him. But once your legs start shifting back for more, he speeds up the rocking of his hips, fucking you brainless on his cock. 

“How we feeling, princess?” he pants. He’s the only thing you can think about, mind scrambled from the white hot feel of being fucked so well.

He doesn’t have to ask to know - the string of heedless whimpers that you make are evidence enough, on top of the obscene squelches that echo every time he pounds into your sopping cunt. He pulls your wrists back from where they cling to the desk, white knuckled, to your sides. A strong arm snakes around your front, pinning your arms and waist close to his chest, caging you in while the other seeks purchase on your breast.

“F-Fuck, I- ah - so good, sir,” you sob, feeling your brain blank with the way his grip moves up to your neck, expertly pushing into the sides to cut off your blood flow. It’s dizzying, your pussy tightening around him for more.

And then he stops.

You’re about to whine, your walls fluttering around him, begging him to move, when his hand reaches to cover your mouth. He shushes you gently, snapping quietly towards the door. 

Someone is calling your name outside. “Hellooo? Hey Y/N, you over here?” It’s Yuuji, pacing the upper floor, walking straight down the hall and soon to pass the very door.

Your heart jolts in panic - why would he come looking for you? Why would anyone? The whole point of being out here was so that no one would come, right?

“Sorry to go back on my word, princess,” Gojo whispers. A wave of his hand creates a small masking barrier in front of the window, but it does nothing to hide the sound. “Gonna have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nod your head, wiggling back against his hips pressed hard and unmoving to your ass. He pulls out slow and thrusts back, mindful of the noise of contact. It takes all your focus to bite back your moans.

“Don’t want your classmates seeing how slutty you are for a good fuck, do you? What if they walked in, saw you like this on your teacher’s cock?”

The thought has your hole constricting his length. You can already envision Yuuji’s shocked expression as he stares you down, his respected senior, nothing more than a babbling mess as Gojo Satoru fucks you raw in an empty classroom. The man behind you holds back a laugh.

The footsteps pass without the hint of something much filthier than extra help transpiring beyond the thin walls. You think you might have even seen a tuft of pink hair whizz by in the corner of your vision - whatever the matter, he’s gone, and you can finally catch your breath.

“Dirty girl,” Gojo rasps from behind you, slamming into you roughly, a sinister smile tugging at the corners of his lips while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, “you - hah - you fucking love it.” 

That spring in the base of your tummy starts to coil taut, rising faster than ever. “Love it,” you choke, stimulated tears forming at your lash line, “love it so much!”

His pace is relentless, your slick gushing all around him. He’s building you up just to break you down, the only one who can help you take the edge off.

“Tell me what you want,” he says through gritted teeth, “I’ll give it to you.”

Holding you tight to his chest with locked arms, he completely covers your body with his tall stature, inescapable and confining.

“Fuck, wanna - wanna cum so bad, so bad, sir.”

His large hand trails its way over your waist, soft fingers moving down, down, until they slip right over that little sensitive bundle at your front, cool and wet, that has your breath catching audibly in your throat. 

Gojo places his mouth just behind your ear, tone soft and sultry. The pad of his index finger rubs firm circles over your swollen, aching clit. It elicits a filthy sound from you that makes his cock twitch inside you. “Right there, huh?” He feels you clench as your legs tremble beneath him.

Your climax crashes over you in hot, unforgiving waves, tightening your walls and creaming all over every inch of his length. “Come on, give it all to teacher,” he encourages through heavy pants, making your skin prickle, and it’s just what you need. A chorus of loud, high pitched, breathless moans tumbles from your mouth as you ride it out. 

You’re drenching his fingers, making a mess as your squirt drips down and coats his cock, making him growl into your hair. He coaches you through it, stringing out his praises, “Just like that, mhm, good girl.”

His eyes fall shut as your cunt suffocates his cock, feeling his hips stutter as you suck him in. With a guttural, hungry groan, he’s burying his load in your waiting hole. He snaps against you once, twice more, hard and quick as he starts to come down.

A moment passes to catch your breaths, heartbeats beginning to slow in tandem. Gojo nuzzles his face into the back of your neck and sighs before placing an affectionate kiss there. 

Your legs are jelly beneath you so he’s careful when he releases his grasp, slowly turning you around to face him and sit back on the desk. 

“You alright?” he asks, wiping away the wetness under your eyes.

It’s safe to say that you’re relieved, in more ways than one. Your shoulders feel lighter and as does your chest, like everything you’ve been shackled to has been lifted off with a good fuck.

“Yeah, much better.” There’s a tired grin to your words.

He wipes away the sheen of sweat that has collected on his hairline and reaches over you to grab a few tissues off the desk. He’s gentle as he cleans you up, dabbing up sweat and cum from where it drips down your thighs. 

“You should get some rest. I’ll get you out of class tomorrow morning if you need it. Make up an excuse or something.” He pulls up his own trousers and helps you button up your top again, then lowering you back to the floor so you can be on your way.

“Let me know if you ever need any more assistance,” he winks, patting the top of your head. He smooths down a few stray hairs, putting you back together in at least a somewhat presentable way. “My help is always available to students that need it.”

Because while all that cursed energy may be under control, your relations are far from over. 

[yeoreos]

hate sex || jjk (m)

pairing :: jungkook x reader

genre :: 18+, fwb!au, smut, basically pwp

summary :: jungkook decides to show you how much he loves hates you.

warnings :: jungkook is in love with you, smut (corruption kink, big dick!jk, size kink, pussy slapping if you squint, oral (f. and m.), overstimulation, unprotected sex [be safe], sex in front of a mirror, denied orgasm, overstimulation, dirty talk, hair pulling, crying but it’s because jungkook is not showing any mercy on oc, hard dom!jk, somewhat brat!reader, a pinch of soft dom!jk, tattooed!jk, i think that’s it?)

wc :: 3.6k (of pure smut)

note :: first imagine ever please be kind :(( lowercase intended !!! (unedited)

“strawberry funnel cake frappuccino for y/n?”

your ears perked up at your name being called by the barista, indicating that your order is ready. you pushed past people, shocked at how packed it was despite it being a wednesday morning.

as for your situation, however, you needed that coffee. last night, the night of your date with your tinder match, didn’t happen. you realized how much time and energy you wasted looking your best for someone that didn’t even appreciate it. the rest of the night, you spent crying; not for your date, but for the makeup look you worked so hard on not to even get a reaction from anybody. but you didn’t let that stop you.

you grabbed your phone from the beige purse you had in your hands and threw the purse on your bed. from the lockscreen, you swiped left to open the camera app. from the angle it was in, the camera captured your feet. 

a few small pictures to upload to instagram wouldn’t hurt, right? and so for the next hour or two you spent in the bathroom having a photoshoot, silently thanking yourself for not throwing away the tripod that sat in the corner of your room, serving no purpose until that moment.

you took a few snaps in the bathtub with the water reaching the brim and your favorite scent littered into the water, along with a few rose petals to decorate it. this is going to be amazing. 

you sat in the bathtub, naked, careful not to let the water touch your face. with one person’s face in mind, you took the pictures, added a filter on them, and posted them onto your instagram, without a caption, because you sucked at those.

locking your phone, you sat in bed and went back to sleep, approximately around the time when the sun started rising, so of course you needed that coffee.

your best friend, Jimin, had heard all about it and had even been the first one to like and comment on your post. he commented so many times about how good you looked and how it was your date’s loss that he stood you up. it got to the point where he almost got shadow banned.

that was until he flooded your private message with more comments.

there was a specific comment, however, which caught your eye.

jeonjk97: damn babygirl

of course jungkook would comment something like that. but it didn’t fail to make you feel like you were on top of the world. 

fuck him and fuck his stupid self.

and the situation you were in was exactly that.

jungkook always had a preference when it came to girls. although he wasn’t the playboy type, he was still a boy and needed his desires to be satisfied. he preferred the innocent ones; “they have the tightest cunts” he would say.

but it was more to it than that. he knew that the innocence was fun to break down, to stain it with his touch where he knew his one-night stand would come back for more and fall to his feet, practically kissing it. he wanted to watch the way they would turn from someone so pure to someone equivalent to him in bed.

he figured that you were a virgin by the way you almost always had your nose in a book. but the first time he asked you to come over, he was shocked to see that the person you showed to everyone was nothing but a mask to hide it all. 

this was the first time you had caught jungkook’s intriguing eyes.

jungkook always reminded himself that he was only there to take, not to give, but it was getting harder and harder to do that each time you gave yourself to him. for him to use but he couldn’t. not when saw you as something more than just a quick fuck.

to make matters worse, you hated him with all of your guts, yelling out words that shouldn’t be uttered to him when the two of you weren’t in the premises of your (and sometimes his) bedroom.

“you’re a small, pretty thing, aren’t you?” he murmured to himself, standing next to your bed. you were sitting up on it, looking at him with a fire behind your eyes and a small smirk playing on your red lips. at that moment, he didn’t care about the feelings he had as all he wanted to was to take his cock out of the confines of his boxers and fuck your throat until you were gagging and choking on it, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage and a request to let you catch your breath.

“yes.” with your chest heaving up and down, the wetness between your thighs became more, the ghost of your orgasm pulling at every nerve in your body. that tingling feeling in your veins has you in a haze, wanting nothing more than just him.

he smirked, his purple hair falling over his eyes, and from the light hitting his back, it casted a shadow over them, making everything more exciting. every feeling and craving of touch for him was heightened, and you were getting tired of waiting.

“hurry the fuck up, jeon!” 

bad mistake.

immediately, he went up to you and grabbed you by the neck, pulling you so you were propped on your knees and in front of him. jungkook looked down at your lips and bit his own, thinking about the pretty sounds that would be coming out of them in a few moments.

with his free hand, he trailed his fingers down, teasingly running them down your skin to your shorts. the ghost of his fingers has your breath caught in your throat and as soon as he reaches your clothed mound, he presses his fingers down. you let out a sound near a gasp and shut your eyes immediately. a harsh slap is delivered to your pussy and you mewl out in pleasure.

“don’t raise your voice at me, understand?” his fingers toying your clothed clit was making it hard for you to voice anything back, so you nod your head instead. “words, baby.” 

oh he was evil.

“y-yes.” he smirked, satisfied with your response. he had never seen you so desperate for him in all the times he had spent with you.

he was aware of the fact that your panties had been soaked with your arousal, wetting his fingers in the process. “tell me what you want, princess.”

you swallowed air, choking on your own words for a second. you couldn’t believe what you were about to ask for. “i want- want you to fuck me...” with the way you trailed off, jungkook was sure it was more than just that, so he quirked a brow, giving you permission to speak further, “want you to fuck me like you hate me.”

something in jungkook seemed to snap because his eyes went a shade darker and an animalistic growl rumbled from deep within his throat.

all of a sudden, you were thrown onto the bed as jungkook got on his knees and tore your panties open, a loud gasp echoed throughout the room.

at first, jungkook took all the time in the world, leisurely toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a moaning mess underneath his tongue, tugging on his bright locks like the floor was lava or something like that. it was only until you begged him to go faster, that he sped up the process of his tongue, assaulting your pussy. his strong grip on your thigh blocked you from distancing yourself from him and whenever you would, he suck on your clit, pulling it into his mouth and using his tongue to abuse the little nub. you grinded your hips into him, embarrassed of how good you were feeling, despite your strong negative feelings towards him on a daily basis. 

“perfect little pussy,” he mumbled against your clit, “made for me to fuck.” that was all it took for your orgasm to come crashing down on you, legs shaking, sinful sounds escaping your lips.

but that wasn’t it, he wanted to fuck you like he hated you, so he showed no mercy again when he entered two fingers into you right after your orgasm, the burning stretch making teas accumulate in the corner of your eyes. his mouth was back on your clit, still sensitive mind you, before you could protest any further. his hooded eyes stared at you, wondering how someone could look so beautiful in this situation.

it was only until your back arched off your bed as your mouth was gaped with no sound coming out, fingers holding onto dear life in his hair and pressing his face further between your thighs, that you came for the second time just by his mouth.

it wasn’t like you were against the idea, because in all honesty, you did ask for him to use you, but oh god if you knew the dangerous territory you were stepping in, you would’ve backed away a long time ago.

after you had calmed down from your high, although heart still racing, you slid down to the floor and got on your knees. jungkook wasn’t expecting this, all he wanted to do now was to fuck you until he rearranged your guts, but who was he to back down from your request of sucking his dick.

jungkook was haste to unbuckle his belt, already envisioning how you would look sucking his cock. however, he didn’t have to envision that for too long, because without any restrictions, you licked the crown of his dick, sending a shiver to go down his spine.

as for you, however, you didn’t realize how much you missed his dick until it was right in front of you and you could finally touch it. the pre-cum shined on his tip and it was waiting (im)patiently for you to give it some sort of relief. he reaches down for your hand and brings it to his dick, indicating that you do the action here. you grab it’s base and glide his tip over your mouth, smearing his arousal on your lips.

you part your lips and he allows you to have control over how much you were going to take in. when your warm mouth closes around him, he breathes out loud. you swirl your tongue over the head and taste the salty pre-cum. the feeling of his veiny cock feels so good in your mouth and you couldn’t wait for it to be shoved in your pussy. you start bobbing your head, using your hands for the parts your mouth couldn’t cover.

“oh fuck,” jungkook curses and entangles his fingers in your hair, pushing it back and holding it into a makeshift ponytail. it wasn’t until he wasn’t satisfied with how much you were taking into your mouth, that he starts bucking his hips into your mouth, going slow at first, then deciding to stay at a ruthless pace.

you opened your mouth and slacked your jaw, allowing him to use you as he pleased. jungkook curses underneath his breath when your submissiveness turns him on even more, but he’s quick to guide his cock in and out of your mouth. and truth be told, he could probably do this in his sleep with the amount of times he’s fucked your mouth. you gag around him, eyes glistening with warm tears as he continues his pace. jungkook holds your head when the feeling is too much and he becomes vocal.

letting out loud moans and groans, jungkook goes insane, almost cumming then and there.

but he couldn’t. he wanted to cum inside of your pussy.

your scalp physically hurt when he let go of your hair and slipped his dick out of your mouth, permitting you to catch a breath which he stole.

he picked you up by your waist and threw you on the bed, your head into the soft covers of your bedsheet. jungkook held you by your hips, pulling them up, so your ass was in the air and your head was in the mattress. 

he took his sweet time teasing and making you push your ass back for more, but he wouldn’t give himself to you just yet. he wanted to teach you your lesson.

and once he bottomed out, you moaned into the sheets, aware that you were drooling on them. it just felt that good. you loved it all. loved the way he was balls deep into you, loved the way he gripped your hips that it was going to leave marks, loved the way he was chanting your name like a mantra when you clenched around him, loved the way that he was the one fucking you.

as much as you would hate to admit it, jungkook was an all-rounder; perfect at everything he did whether it be sports, gaming, cooking, fashion. you name it, he could do it. including fucking you and that was your favorite part about him. that no matter how much the two of you hated (and one even loved, but that’s a conversation for another day) each other, you would always go back to each other like two opposites on a magnet. 

this view was nice, but jungkook wanted more. he wanted to see your face contort in pleasure, but at the same time, he wanted to see the way your cunt would take his cock. so, from the corner of his eye, he peeks at the mirror and considers the idea for a bit before moving around on the bed so you guys were in front of the mirror.

“w-what are you doing- mph!” jungkook enters you without even giving you a chance to complete your sentence. he brutally snaps his hips so his dick dives into your pussy, your walls doing nothing but contracting against his shaft.

jungkook bends down and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling it as your neck cranes over to see the two of you in the mirror. through your reflection, you could see the way jungkook looks back with the same hungry and lustful eyes. your eyes travelled to your position and the sight alone had you gushing for him, more wetness pooling. you look at the way your hair now looked like (and probably did) it had knots in them, your lipstick smeared across your lips and some parts of it getting on your cheek and chin, your mascara smudged over your eyes. you looked bad, but a good type of bad. it had jungkook ramming his hips into yours even more.

“look at you,” he says although that was what you were doing the whole time, “such a dirty slut. who’s making you feel this good, huh? who?!”

“y-you, oh fuck jungkook, please don’t stop, don’t stop please, i’m going to-”

“don’t you dare.” the way the words came out of jungkook’s chest has your heart rate speeding up and you could’ve sworn he got harder inside of you. 

in response, you mewl and shake beneath him, finding it hard to hold in your orgasm. with the way your vision blurred, you knew you were close, your release so close yet so far away. 

jungkook leaves open mouthed kisses along the side of your neck, sucking into your skin, leaving a dark purple mouth he knew you were going to try to cover up the next day. for a little while, jungkook stills his hips, ravishing in the way your mouth is hung open and hands were shaking, trying their best to support the weight of your body. he holds that position, his lips pressing tender kisses on your neck. although you desperately want him to fuck you, another part of you wants to cherish this moment. 

so, you close your eyes in return and moan.

once he finished torturing the delicate skin of your neck, his eyes get drunk on your body, intoxicating him. at first, he watches through the mirror, watching the way your chest heaved for air. his eyes soon travelled to your back, to your ass, where he saw how deep he was buried into your cunt.

“your cunt is taking me so well, babe.”

once he sees that you were ready to take more, he pulls back and in one swift thrust, he pushed into you, a scream ripping through you. he does that again and again, causing the same reaction from you. jungkook once again stops when he’s fully inside of you, torturing you just to make you beg for him. you need him to fuck you relentlessly, so that’s exactly what you vocalize.

“please, jungkook,” your voice is nothing but a whisper, “please fuck me.”

“you should hear yourself, baby, the way you’re desperately begging for me. begging to be fucked,” he chuckles, “you already came once? or was it twice? how greedy can you be.”

“i’m you’re slut, jungkook. please fuck me.”

it was a light switch. something in him flicked and jungkook immediately started snapping his hips into you. “say that again, you little whore. who’s slut are you?”

“jungkook’s. only jungkook’s- fuck!”

he pushed his cock back before slamming into you with both of his hands on your hips. the lewd and slick sound of your pussy and your wetness leaving onto his cock echoes throughout the room and you could’ve sworn jungkook whimpered.

when that wasn’t enough, the sex god behind you takes both of your hands, pulling it behind you, setting yet another brutal pace. he can’t help but wrap his tattooed arms around your small, fragile ones. his eyes lock with yours, your throat protruding a gulp of air you had swallowed. 

“you look so pretty, your hands behind you as i’m fucking you, i wish you could see yourself. fuck,” he rumbles.

you moan at his words, because you couldn’t agree more. his hands were perfect; every inch of your body that he would touch, lick, kiss, all belonged to him. you belonged to him and jungkook was going to make sure you were aware of that by the end of the night tonight.

“moan louder,” he says while thrusting into you. “let everyone hear how much of a little slut you are for me.” he emphasizes the last word. his possessiveness was showing, but did either of you care? no.

as you give him exactly what he wants, he smiles while letting his cock fill you up, his hips hitting against yours with aggression. this all causes sparks of pleasure to coarse through your body, your veins felt like they were lit on fire, but not in the bad way. it was in a way only he could make you feel.

as you look at him through the mirror, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. you watch the way he looks back at you with a cloudiness in his eyes and the way his pink tongue swipe across his bottom lips. jungkook keeps growling your name, thrusting into you with a different urgency every time

“please- jungkook please, i need to cum!” you were begging, not even caring how pathetic you looked and sounded.

“not until i tell you to,” the evil tone in his voice was evident and you didn’t know how longer you could hold in your release.

jungkook noticed the way tears freely fell from your eyes. something took over him, a sense of care. halting his hips, he leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to your neck. “just a little longer, yeah? you’re my good girl, and my good girl can do it. it’ll feel amazing, i promise.” you shuddered, a whole new feeling blossoming inside of you. a radiating warmth coursing throughout your body.

his hands could feel the way your body trembled and quivered underneath him with each thrust. the way he started his merciless pace had you losing yourself to the feeling of lust and desire. your face scrunches up, a feeling of your coil about to snap in your stomach.

jungkook quickly noticed and brings one of his hands which were previously wrapped around your wrists, made their way around your waist and to your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves. it wasn’t long until you were coming undone, with jungkook whispering praises and sweet nothingness into your ear.

a few moments and pumps later, jungkook feels his dick twitch inside of you. pulling out, he cums on you: your ass, your back, and your cunt.

still feeling high from your euphoria, the two of you stay in that position.

completely mesmerized in your afterglow, jungkook looks at you, you doing the same. the eye contact is far more intimate than what the two of you did just now. he never found anyone more beautiful after sex, but you? it was like a whole new perspective.

jungkook pulls his dick out a grabs a tissue from the table near your bed in order to clean you up, followed by a small, tender kiss pressed onto your temple. “you did so well,” he whispers and you feel your knees become weak. it was either due to exhaustion or because of his words.

you hoped it was not the latter.

[sinner-as-saint]

we can’t stop, we’re enemies.

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader AU

Run-through: After the events of the last battle against Thanos, you teamed up with Sam and Bucky to carry on your superhero duties. You got along with Sam just fine, he was a really good friend to you. Bucky however, was not. From constant banters, to unnecessary hand-to-hand combat, to purposely getting each other in trouble during risky missions, to being the main cause of Sam’s migraines; it was safe to say that you and Bucky considered yourselves to be each other’s nemesis. Although that soon changes when, courtesy of your silly banters, a certain mission goes slightly wrong - one which involves strong chemicals which, unbeknownst to you, were designed to mess with the brain and hormones, thus encouraging the need to breed and procreate amongst all those who inhale it...

Themes: enemies-to-lovers, smut, sex pollen trope, dirty talk, swear words, fluff

“How is it going up there Sam, talk to me.” 

You spoke, waiting to hear from Sam through the ear piece. 

The three of you were on a mission on unfamiliar lands. Rumor had it that some shady organization was conducting illegal experiments. The whole location was spooky, and you needed to be thorough and quick. So Sam decided to get an aerial view along with Red Wing, and see if there are any threats coming your way while you and Bucky decided to check out the underground laboratories. 

The whole place was shadowy and old, it almost seemed like no one had been here in a long time. But still, these people were criminals so you had to gather every evidence you could which would lead you their way. 

And so far, after exploring the place for the past half an hour, you found nothing major. Just weird laboratory glassware filled with liquids and what not. 

“Sam?” you called out again into the ear piece, keeping your gun at the ready. “Say something damn it.” 

His reply came. “There’s something sketchy about the building at the back, I’m gonna go check it out. But you have to promise me you won’t kill each other by the time I get back.” 

You and Bucky sent death glares at each other in disgust. He was on the other side of the lab, flipping through files and papers, while you were searching the cabinets and drawers. The two of you were separated by a steel workstation. Dark leather jacket, metal arm exposed; you’d find him handsome if he wasn’t so annoying. 

“Sure, whatever.” Bucky mumbled, being his grumpy self. 

You frowned at him, “Dude, drop your fucking attitude.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes at you, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Sam roared through the ear piece, “Enough! Focus, you two are in the labs and we don’t know what’s in there. Just, maybe look out for each other. Okay? I’m going in.”

“Be careful, Sam.” You spoke, sending another dirty look at Bucky. 

“Yeah y-,” 

Sam got cut off. All you could hear was some static noises and then complete silence. 

“Sam? Can you hear us?” Bucky tried reaching out but neither of you could hear him. “This isn’t good.” 

“Damn it!” You cursed. “Maybe he flew out of range. Or maybe we’re too deep under.” 

For once in his life he nodded, agreeing with you. “Let’s just hurry up and see what we can find. We need to get out of here as fast as we can and get to the Jet.” He said, flipping through more and more files and papers, his metal arm glistening in the poorly lit room. 

You sassed in the same tone he used before, “Don’t tell me what to do.” And you earned yourself another glare from him. 

Fifteen minutes later and you two still had nothing to work with. 

“This is useless. There’s nothing here, this is just bullshit.” Bucky complained, slamming down a file on the workstation so hard that it made you jump. 

You were annoyed. You slammed a cabinet shut and turned to face him. “Oh I’m sorry princess, is work getting too tiring? Do you need a break? Hmm?” 

“Shut up, you’re the one who keeps whining all the time.” He wasn’t wrong. 

You stepped forward, grabbing the edge of the cold workstation. “Well maybe if you’d quit complaining and actually do your part of the job, then I wouldn’t have to whine about always doing everything on my own and you taking credit for it in front of Sam.” 

He leaned forward, his metal arm already denting his side of the edge of the workstation. “Maybe if you’d stop bitching about everything and everyone all the time then maybe we’d get along and actually get shit done.” 

You leaned in too. “Or maybe if just me and Sam teamed up, we’d work better. I still don’t know why he keeps you around. Take your metal arm away, what are you? Exactly, just a hundred year old, confused man.” 

He smirked. “And what are you? Just a spoilt, whiny brat who knows how to use a gun?” He knew just what to say to get the reaction he wanted out of you. 

In less than a few seconds you had your loaded gun out in front of you, aiming it at his forehead. “And guess what, she never misses a target.” You spat at him. 

You had done this before; aiming guns at each other until Sam comes to break the tension. But Sam wasn’t here this time. 

Bucky knew you would never pull the trigger on him so he gave you a handsome, arrogant smirk which only pissed you off even more. “Come on, shoot.” He provoked you. 

“Stop pissing me off.” You warned. 

“Or what? You’re gonna shoot me for calling you a whiny, spoilt brat? See, that’s exactly what brats do.” 

“James, stop.” Oh he was getting on your nerves. You were agitated. 

He just smirked and went on. “I actually believe that that might be your superpower, destroying people by annoying them to death with how much of a brat you can actually be.” 

You glared at him, unmoving, furious. You placed your forefinger on the trigger. “Say brat one more time and I will blow your fucking head off and when Sam asks, I’ll make it seem like an accident.” 

He leaned closer, aligning his forehead to the barrel of your gun. He stared at you with his stormy, ocean blue eyes; inciting you to just pull the damn trigger. He watched you with mischief in his eyes. “Brat.” He mouthed, smirking right after and waiting for your reaction. 

You clenched your jaw and shifted your aim just a little so that the bullet misses him but still shoots right by his ear. You pulled the trigger without hesitation, shooting at the shelf filled with dark red and brown liquids behind Bucky. 

Bucky maintained his calm and composure despite the loud sound of the shattering glass falling on the tiles right behind him. “Brat.” He said again, out loud this time. 

“I hate you.” You lowered your gun but then noticed something behind Bucky. Smoke, or some sort of vapor oozing out of the broken flasks and test tubes. You froze for a second. “Bucky, look.” You walked around the workstation and joined him on the other side. 

The vapor quickly filled the room like thick fog, reducing visibility and making your throat burn a little. You coughed; once, twice. You looked beside you and Bucky was standing there with a look of horror on his face. 

The moment his supersoldier sense got a whiff of the vapor, something in him ignited. No… 

“We have to get out of here. Now.” You heard his voice, then felt his cold fingers wrap around your wrists as he tugged you along, making his way out of the lab. He tried to hold his breath but he couldn’t hold it very long. He tried to find the door to exit the room but that was hard too because neither of you could see properly. 

“This stuff,” you spoke in between coughs, “will probably kill us, won’t it?” You held on tightly to his arm. “You need to get us out of here now.” The vapor was reducing your visibility more and more. 

He felt the side of the wall, looking for the metal handle of the door through which you entered the lab. “It won’t kill us.” He growled as he looked beside him. You were standing close to him, so close, holding on to his arm tightly, a thin layer of sweat covered your face. 

It was almost funny how you had your gun aimed at him just a minute ago and now you were relying on him for protection. 

“How can you be so sure? Do you know what this stuff is?” You asked. 

He sighed. He knew. “I have a hunch, but let’s hope I’m wrong.” He felt warm. Deep inside something stirred in him. Animalistic, primal, feral. It was there, pressing and burning. Guess he wasn’t wrong. 

He finally found the door and he pushed it open, letting the two of you out and you took off running at once. You tried to reach Sam. A couple tries later, he finally responded. “I got some names, I think we got what we’re looking for. Where are you guys?” 

“We found…. uh, nothing. We’re on our way to the jet, meet us there.” Bucky responded, running beside you. 

You were confused out of your mind, not to mention you felt feverish. Hot, and you were sweating more than usual in places you’d rather not think about. Something in you was yearning to break free. You felt chained, you needed release. You felt like something had awakened inside of you; a deep hunger. Aroused, you felt aroused. Or was it just the adrenaline rush? 

By the time you tried to figure out what was actually going on with you, you both had made it to the Jet. 

“I feel sick.” you mumbled, stumbling on your way inside the jet. “I think… I think that smoke poisoned me.” You placed your palm against the side of the plane to hold on so you don’t fall. You felt like gravity wasn’t pulling you down anymore. You were a little out of breath. 

Then you felt a cold hand on your shoulder. You grimaced as it only ignited the fire which you just found out had been burning inside you since you left the lab. 

“You’re not poisoned. You’re not sick, you’re gonna be okay. We just have to… we have to get home.” Bucky was worse than you were. His enhanced senses allowed him to feel everything you felt, times ten perhaps. 

His heart raced as he got a whiff of your fading perfume, mixed with the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your natural, raw scent. He could feel your arousal from here, and it pulled him in so easily. All he wanted to do was to tear your suit off, pin you up against the side of the Jet and fuck the living hell out of you, stretch you out and just rail you until you could no longer take it. 

Fuck. 

You looked up at him; heart racing, palms sweating and even your mouth was salivating more than usual. “You know what that thing was, don’t you?” You asked, ignoring the way his cold hand upon your shoulder made you want to lean into his touch even more. “What was it?” 

You saw the look in his hooded eyes. Bucky sighed, pulling his hand away from you and the loss of contact made you whimper ever so quietly. You felt warmer and more and more breathless with each second that passed by. 

“They used to make those substances, long ago back when I was with HYDRA. I didn’t expect to find those here. They were used to… to try and see if they could get super soldiers to procreate naturally.” Bucky explained and waited for your reaction. 

“Sex pollen. Correct?” 

He nodded, “Yes.” 

You were a little shaken, but relieved knowing that at least it wasn’t poison and you wouldn’t be dying a painful death. “That’s… I mean, it could have been poison.” You didn’t know how to react after you pieced it all together. “How long before it wears off?” 

“Twenty-four hours unless...” 

“Unless what?” 

“Unless you fuck it out of your system well enough.”

That had you surprised. “Oh. Well that’s just great, isn’t it? Fucking perfect. I’m screwed.” 

Bucky tried his hardest to refrain himself from leaning in and biting that sassy mouth of yours, shoving his tongue past your lips to shut you up, to hear you moan and gasp and cry out his name as he takes you however he wants to… 

“We.” He corrected you. “It’ll get worse every hour.” He replied. 

You sighed and moved away from him, unzipping your combat suit partly and removing the jacket because you couldn’t handle the heat. Bucky cursed as you stripped into just a tank top and tight pants, right in front of him. He felt his cock get harder. 

“Can you not?” He sounded pissed off again; frustrated. “This is all your doing. The least you can do is make this a little bit easier for both of us.” 

His words made you turn around and glare at him. “How is this my doing? I didn’t even know what was in that lab.” 

He stepped forward, instinctively. The sight of your exposed neck and your soft skin was making him think of unspeakable things that he wanted to do to you. As he advanced, you tried not to look down at his cock, straining against his zipper. Your heart raced as you took in the size of his bulge. Enhanced super soldier indeed. 

“Had you not been a spoiled brat who can’t take a joke, you wouldn’t have tried to shoot at me nor would you have shot those flasks!” He argued, feeling more and more warm as he got closer to you. 

You took a step forward as well, fueled by annoyance, lust and anger. “Who was it who provoked me into doing that because they couldn’t keep their fucking mouth shut, huh? That’s right, your annoying ass!” 

Bucky pushed you against the side of the Jet without a second thought. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with his hand while pressing his body into you, his metal arm circling around your waist and pressing you further into him. 

He hadn’t thought this through. He hadn’t thought about how your warm breath would feel against his skin, or how warm your body would be under his touch. You felt feverish, having him this close. His tall, large frame and his tight grip made your whimper under him. Your body reacted to him naturally. 

All you felt was warm, his body heat, his scent. The feeling of his cold leather jacket against your flushed skin. You wanted him. Or rather, your body did. 

“Don’t you provoke me now, you fucking whiny brat.” He whispered, menacingly into your ear. 

You tried to ignore the shivers his voice sent down your entire body. But he saw it. And you could feel his erection press against your crotch. Just to mess with him, you discreetly moved your hips against his, making him hiss loudly. 

“What are you gonna do about it, dipshit?” You sassed, knowing that given his intensified senses he must be feeling much worse than you. 

He groaned as you kept grinding against him, your pulsating core rubbing against the bulge in his pants. And that only made it worse for both of you. 

“Fuck…” Bucky swore, before quickly pulling away from you, but not releasing you yet. “You’re such a bitch.” His body was screaming for you, each nerve ending of his was on fire. A fire only you could douse. 

You were just the same, on the edge and wanting to reach out for him; knowing he would satiate your hunger better than anyone could. Your body was throbbing as you stared into his eyes, your gaze lowering down to his dog tags. How you wanted those dangling right above your face… 

You heard someone clear their throat. It wasn’t Bucky. 

“Something you two need to tell me? Or is this just your new way of trying to kill each other?” A deep voice asked from behind Bucky. 

“Sam! Are you okay?” You escaped Bucky’s grip and rushed to Sam. 

He seemed alright to you. He nodded. “Yeah, we just need to get home. I need to notify the team and see what we should do next. What was in those labs?” 

You glared at Bucky. His smug face alone was pissing you off, but God right now you wanted to ride that man until the sun came tomorrow morning. 

“Just a bunch of useless experiments. Nothing major.” He glared at you as he said the last bit to Sam. 

The ride back home was one of the most painful, annoying and frustrating situations you had ever undergone. Each time you felt like someone was watching you, you’d turn your head to the side and find Bucky staring; and his stares would make your body tremble in need. 

Meanwhile he was having a hard time too, in more ways than one. He could feel his blood rush south even at the brief sound of your voice whenever you sighed in annoyance or talked to Sam. Luckily the latter could not pick up on the thick, sexual tension. 

Once at the compound, you each hurried to your own rooms and that’s where you stayed until the evening. Sam found it weird that you both skipped dinner but he didn’t need another headache today so he went to bed, telling himself that he’d deal with you two tomorrow morning. 

Bucky was a mess. Even after an hour under the cold shower his body was still calling out for you. He tried taking care of his business on his own, but that wasn’t working. He was still so hard it was painful. Nothing could make this better, nothing could soothe the pain - nothing but you. He needed you so badly it was driving him insane, like he was an animal in heat being asked to suppress his feral desires towards his mate. Being away from you was painful. He couldn’t help but hate you for no reason at all usually, but he’d do what it takes to be inside you and make you scream his name right now. 

You were equally as troubled at the super soldier. You tried taking a warm bath and tried to think of other things you could focus on, but nothing worked. Your toys didn’t seem appealing tonight, you needed him, all of him. You shivered at the thought of his taut, virile body under yours, or above. His masculine scent, the sound of his moans, would he bite?… fuck. You could feel your arousal leak out of you every now and then, it was insane how aroused you were. You couldn’t look at him for long without getting unnecessarily annoyed, but you would do anything just to have him rearrange your guts right now. 

What made it worse was that neither of you could stand each other at all. Enemies, you called yourselves. But right now you couldn’t help but crave each other in the most salacious way possible. 

Fuck this. You couldn’t take this anymore. You decided to swallow your pride and make your way to his room and ask him if you two could come to an agreement on how to fight this thing because it would be impossible to go another twenty hours feeling like this. You were burning from the inside. This was unbearable. 

Just as you opened your bedroom door, you were slightly surprised to find Bucky standing right outside your door. His metal hand up midair, as though he was to knock on your door and you happened to open the door just in time. You almost drooled at the sight of him; sweatpants and a tight, white t-shirt. You swallowed and cleared your throat. 

“Hey.” You greeted him, not knowing how to deal with this situation. You felt so drawn to him in that moment, so damn restless and needy that it was hard to breathe right while looking at him. 

“I was, uh, about to knock…” He didn’t know how he got here, he didn’t remember. Maybe it was the chemicals messing with his brain and turning him into a hungry beast. He didn’t care that he was knocking on your door in the middle of the night, he wanted you. He was craving you and that’s all he knew. Also the oversized t-shirt, the only you were wearing at the time, was not helping at all. 

“Yeah, um…” you rambled then stopped talking the moment you found him staring into your eyes with a wild look in his eyes. 

That was it. 

You grabbed him by the waistband of his sweats and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. Before Bucky could process anything, you had him pushed against your closed door and your mouth was on his, kissing him hungrily. Your hands slowly slipped under his tight t-shirt and you lazily trailed your hands up and down his toned abs. 

His hands gripped your hips on either side as he kissed you back with just as much ardor as you did. His body ignited the moment he felt your lips and hands on him, yet the heat was weirdly satisfying; it stimulated him but calmed him down at the same time. It felt perfect. This was just what he needed, you. 

Your movements were rapid and passionate, fiery. Hands roaming each other's body, touching and feeling and exploring; making each other moan like you were both touch-starved. 

You let out a soft moan when you felt his tongue slip past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his metal hand slipped under your shirt. Your body was tingling wherever he touched you. His touch made you feel way better than you had felt in the past few hours and you were grateful. Your moans sent his mind straight to the gutter and he couldn’t wait to be inside you. 

“I need you…” you whispered against his lips as you pulled away to catch your breath. “I need you to fuck me… right here, right now.” Your demands made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his eyes. 

“Oh?” he managed to still find the energy to be an ass to you. “Why don’t you go on and beg for it, then?” 

You scoffed, leaning in to lick his lips while you hand dipped into his pants. You grabbed his erected cock and gave it a little, gentle squeeze. He moaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever. Like he was desperate for one thing and one thing only; you. You whispered, “You need me too, Bucky. I’m not gonna beg you, I’m doing you a favor here.” You slid your closed fist up and down his length and made him moan some more before you let go and watched him groan and clench his jaw in annoyance. 

He looked down at you, panting in need just as you were. His hand slid into your hair and he gripped it, tugging on it just enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Still a fucking brat with that annoying attitude I see?” He leaned in to bite your exposed neck, making your cry out in pain before he licked the spot, soothing it. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll fuck all that attitude out of you.” 

He let go of your hair but tightened his grip around your waist as he placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like there’s no tomorrow; biting your lip and bruising your already swollen mouth. He was wild, and you needed it and more. 

He pushed you down on your bed, and stood back to watch you for a moment. How did he never realize that you were so naturally beautiful? He looked down at you like a predator looking at his meal; fiercely, ready to ruin you and make you scream and beg and satiate his hunger. As well as yours. 

“Well, if you’re done staring…” you knelt on your bed and reached out for him, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him closer. “I want you in me. Now.” Your demanding tone riled him up. 

Bucky grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back again. “If you wanna get fucked, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?” 

You glared at him, shooting death glares right at him while your hand palmed him through his sweatpants. “I fucking hate you.” You spat at him, whimpering as he pushed you back down on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you this time. 

“I hate you too.” He knelt on your bed, straddling your waist as he tore your oversized shirt in half and off your body, throwing the pieces of fabric somewhere on your bedroom floor. You laid beneath him in just your underwear and he growled. 

“That was my favorite shirt, you fucking idiot.” You whispered, breathless, shivers dancing down your spine as he traced your mouth with his two fingers, slipping them past your lips once, then twice then trailing his now wet fingers down your neck, till your belly button. 

“You think I care?” he leaned down and took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his metal hand. The contrast of his warm mouth around one and his cold hand around the other was driving you crazy. He bit, and tugged and licked; making your back arch off the bed as you purred in pleasure. 

Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his erection again to try and alleviate the pain. You were desperate. Bucky pinched and rolled one of your nipples while he lightly grazed the other with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan. 

“Please… please, I need you. Please…” You muttered under your breath, knowing he could hear you. Bucky smirked as he pulled away from your chest, ignoring the way his cock throbbed. “What’s so fucking funny?” You grabbed him by the throat, pulling his face closer to yours. 

His metal arm reached down in between your legs and he ripped your underwear off. The fabric hurt just a little when it tore against your skin. “Just that it's the first time I heard you asking for something so politely. It’s not so hard after all, is it?” 

Now he was pissing you off. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and flipped the two of you around. You got on top of him and straddled his waist, trapping him under you like he had you before. You had better control like this. 

You grabbed him by the jaw and leaned in to kiss his lips, fiercely. “Stop fucking playing, Barnes.” You whispered against his lips, grinding against his hard cock again. He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure as you kissed down to his neck, nibbling on his skin along his throat. 

He moaned, hands gripping your hips and guiding you as you rubbed your bare core against his clothed erection. “No? I thought brats liked games?” He mumbled. 

You pulled away from his neck and looked down at his smug face. “You are so fucking annoying.” You reached down in between your bodies and lowered his sweatpants all the way down until he kicked them off. You grabbed his cock and stroked him gently, agonizingly slow. He moaned shamelessly, and eventually caught on that you were just teasing him even more. 

“Don’t tease me…” he sounded just as breathless as you were. 

“Why? Not so fond of games anymore?” you sassed, rubbing your throbbing core against his thigh while you stroked him so gently that he felt like he was losing his mind. 

He growled as he grabbed you by the waist and flipped the two of you around, him being on top again. “Enough,” he growled in your ear, “Spread those legs for me.” He ordered, settling in between them as you spread your legs to accommodate him. He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more as he aligned the tip of his cock to your opening. “Now stay still, don’t move.” 

You braced yourself for him, but nothing could have prepared you for that. His length stretched you open until he was seated deep inside you, filling you up entirely to a point where you couldn’t even think of anything else other than him being balls deep inside you. 

You moaned as he removed himself entirely and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear, “Fuck….” you heard him moan; panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. 

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. He kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you over and over again, making your eyes tear up. The burning need subsided a little bit as his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “Buck… faster, please,” You whimpered. 

He chuckled into your ear, “Needy little brat…” he mumbled as he sped up into you, making you lose your ability to focus on anything else other than him and his body. He pulled away from your face to look down at you, his metal hand coming up to wrap itself around your throat. “This is what you wanted since we left that lab, huh? For me to fuck your greedy little cunt? Hmm?” He taunted as he stretched you out completely. You lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist; allowing him to thrust deeper into you. 

You felt tears escaping your eyes as he pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours fucking deeper into you. He was relentless; each moan which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough. 

You felt a pressure form in between your hips, your body begging for release. “Bucky… please.” You moaned, begging. For something, anything. You’d take anything at this point. But right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he pulled out. 

“Please what?” He surprised himself with how he was able to tease you in this situation when all he wanted was to make both of you cum over and over again. 

“I need to cum, Bucky please,” you cried, with tears in your eyes. 

Bucky leaned in to kiss your swollen lips, not minding the tears. “Do you deserve it?” He asked, and you nodded immediately, your body shaking with how bad you needed to cum. “Oh you do, do you?” 

You nodded again. “Please…please...” 

“Well since you asked nicely…” Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his muscular body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again. 

He rocked into you from behind. His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how that drove you insane, he could by the way your walls gripped his cock. 

“Feel that, little brat? That’s all you’re good for… to take my cock like a good little slut.” He whispered. 

You groaned at the sound of his raspy voice, his words making you milk him even harder. “You wish, you dipshit.” You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. You whimpered, and he chuckled now that he had you at his mercy. 

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently as he bent down to whisper in your ear, “I can assure you that no one is ever gonna fuck you this good,” he boasted as he very gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. “Fuck… please....” you cried. 

You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. “Cum for me. Now.” 

You didn’t have to be told twice. You came undone, hard and fast; moaning his name as you did. Bucky came right after you. 

You collapsed onto your bed, sprawled unevenly and not even caring. Your eyes were shut in fatigue, your heart racing and you could feel Bucky’s body heat right next to you. He was catching his breath too, mumbling something under his breath which you couldn’t catch. 

For the first time in hours, you felt at ease. Your body wasn’t yearning anymore, but the hunger was still there. So when Bucky got up to leave, you grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back into bed with you. 

He smirked as he fell helplessly onto your bed again, right next to you. “You want more, you greedy little brat?” 

You punched his arm before getting up and getting on top of him again, sliding your body down his cock. He hissed as you did. 

“Just another round.” You whispered, loving the sight of him under you. His tan skin against your white sheets, him moaning as you slowly lifted up and sank back down on his cock. Oh fuck… 

You placed your hands on his muscular chest to hold yourself up as you sped up, riding him like you’ve been dreaming of this whole time. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you up and down his cock until you both found a pleasurable pace. 

You weren’t going to last too long, but you just needed to have him buried deep inside you again. His thick, girthy cock stretched you open as you took him as best you could, moaning and whimpering desperately as he groaned and gasped under you. 

Your walls gripping him and milking him like they had earlier, not even a few minutes ago. You felt the pressure forming nicely in between your hips again. You let out a loud moan as you felt his cock reach places it hadn’t before, turning you into a mess. 

His grip on your hips tightened as he brought you down on his cock with force each time and thrusting upwards to fuck you deeper. “Cum for me.” He threw his head back, growling. “Cum for me again…” 

Your hand grabbed him by the jaw and you leaned in to press your lips against his, claiming his open mouth and muffling his animalistic growls as you came undone around him again. Your orgasm then triggered his. 

You fell limp on top of him right after and he instinctively cradled your head. “You okay?” 

You nodded, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other but neither of you minding it. “Yeah.” 

Bucky gently rolled to his side, letting you down on your side of the bed. You tried your best to calm your racing heart. Not to mention you felt much, much better than earlier. 

Bucky got up to leave again, and you grabbed his hand before he got completely out of your bed. He turned to face you with a smirk then groaned dramatically, “Woman please, I’m not a machine. The pain will subside now, I believe we’ve done pretty good at fucking it out of our systems. I can’t go all night, seriously.” 

You were in a haze so his words made you giggle. “You’re really leaving?” 

He looked down at you, sprawled on your bed. Your face was glowing, you looked ethereal. “You want me to stay?” He asked, wondering where the sassy brat in you went. 

You nodded. 

He smirked, getting back into bed next to you, “What, now you're obsessed with me?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up. I’m just saying since I might need you again in the morning, you might as well just sleep here.”  

He pretended to be hurt. “Wow.” He didn’t mind that at all. He got under the covers with you, “So… is it just the chemicals or are we…?” 

You snuggled closer to his side, he wrapped his arm around you, tucking your head under his chin. “Shh, I still hate you.” Your tired, soft voice reminded him of a sleepy kitten. 

He held you closer. “Of course.” He looked down at you and saw that you had already fallen asleep on his chest. He cracked a soft smile, whispering under his breath, “Brat.” 

[kirishoshego]

Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn’t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

[juletheghoul]

Burning Hour (Part 3)

This series has completely taken over my life and I am so happy you are all enjoying it so much - thank you for all of the lovely messages and comments - I treasure them deeply.

So - you shouldn't be surprised that this particular moment on the red carpet absolutely inspired a scene in this story and I regret nothing. Hope you all enjoy this fantasy that's keeping me going lol.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, fingering/touching / slight dirty talk (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4

—

You floated through the morning.

Your dreams were full of kisses, of declarations of love and beskar glinting under the sun and it was hard to concentrate on anything.

You smiled to yourself as you broke your fast with warm bread and butter, feeling his eyes on you from his place behind your father.

“Your highness-” Your father’s advisor came through the door holding the usual paperwork, things for him to look over, letters to read. “-A letter has come for the Princess.” He turned to you then with a smile. He was an old man, grandfatherly and sweet. He handed it to you and you noticed from the corner of your eye Din’s helmet turn towards you.

It was a small letter and you noticed how beautiful the script was as you opened it.

Dearest Princess,

I would be honoured if you were to join me here at my home for dinner. My messenger awaits your response and if you agree, I will send my personal household guard to accompany you. I also imagine your knight will be in attendance, I welcome him and whoever else you choose to bring at my table. Ruby as well of course.

Hoping you’ll say yes.

Ever yours,

Poe. D.

“It’s from Poe, he asks that I join him this evening for dinner.” You were frowning at the letter, conflicted because you wanted to stay home, wanted to meet Din in the garden again. A tiny part of you however, the tiniest part wanted to say yes - wanted to see how Poe would behave. Part of you wanted him to do something unforgivable to wipe the smiles off your parents faces.

“Oh but you must go!” Your father’s voice boomed through the room and you imagined that you could almost hear Din’s jaw clenching.

“Yes my darling, you must go. What does the letter say?” Your mother held her hand out and you handed it to her. She smiled as she read it. “Din, you must accompany her.” She was smiling big, excited at the prospect of a match having been made. No one bothered to ask if you wanted to go.

“Yes of course, let his messenger know that the Princess will be in attendance. She will go, Din- I leave her safety in your hands. Take you who must.” It had been decided for you, and you had to accept it. You felt Mila’s hand grasp yours under the table in understanding.

-

“Which gown would you like to wear your highness?” She asked sadly as you put on your undergarments and you sighed.

Whichever one makes everyone leave me alone.

“Whichever you think would look best sweetling, I have no preference.” You said the words and they were honest. Yes - Poe was charming and sweet, handsome and in another life you would have been faint with excitement at his interest in you but you were in love with Din. He was the one you wanted to share a meal with. He was the one you wanted to kiss in the open - to have holding your hand as you sat together in front of the hearth. He was the one you wanted in your bed.

“How about this one?” She held out a lovely powder blue gown. You would have said no, something more plain but you had to be seen to be making an effort.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t comment on it.

“I will tie a blue ribbon around Ruby’s neck to match, and I think you have some sapphires as well.” She brought over a tray of jewelry for you to peruse while she laced up your gown.

Your mind drifted to an interesting place. You imagined you were preparing for dinner with Din and imagined your knight picking out jewels for you to wear.

Would he prefer diamonds? Would he like me better in opals or emeralds?

You had a feeling he wouldn’t mind either way, but it was lovely to pretend even for a moment. She placed a dark blue cloak about your shoulders and stood back.

“You look beautiful Princess, the blue looks lovely against your skin.” She held up a silvered looking glass and you saw the reflection of a happy woman, although why she was happy - no one could know.

“Thank you sweetling, let's get this night over with shall we?” You smiled at her as you both made your way outside.

---

Din, along with five of his best knights, waited for her to set out for Damerons home. Damerons own household guard waited as well, having been sent to accompany her and he surveyed them. They seemed competent enough, he gave them their space nonetheless.

It was getting more and more difficult to put the future out of his mind - he knew that the Princess would marry at some point, it was her duty as Queen. She might even marry Poe - he knew that objectively they were a good match but his mind simply couldn’t stay objective. Not when it came to her.

This whole thing was moving faster than he hoped and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

You have to face facts Djarin, you’ll never marry her. You are a knight, she is a Princess, there is no place for you. Maybe you should just let her go.

It was in him to do so, to ignore his feelings for her; to find Gisela and ask her to marry him - have a couple of little ones and pray for things to work out. The harsh words to get her to hate him on the tip of his tongue but they evaporated like dew on a sunny day when he saw her come out to meet him.

She was a gem- a bright, glittering thing that he wanted so desperately to hold onto.

“I am ready Sir, shall we?” She smiled shyly and he nodded.

“Of course Princess, allow me.” He guided her into the wheelhouse, dreading and cherishing every single second.

--

The ride was uneventful, the road was quiet thankfully with nothing to see but long swathes of trees and greenery in the gloaming of the evening.

Ruby was napping softly in your lap but woke quickly when you arrived, her little tail wagging happily at the prospect of exploring.

“Yes my little darling - we are here.” She was in Mila’s arms when you pet her, the two of you waiting for the wheelhouse to come to a stop.

Din opened the door for you, he was helping you climb down when you heard Poe’s voice sounding out.

“Princess, I am so pleased you agreed to come-” He was striding over, his squire on his heels. “-I am happy to see you all. Please - be welcome.” He was smiling big at everyone as his guards retreated, no doubt returning to their posts. He crouched quickly to pet Ruby before approaching you.

“Hello Poe, I thank you for your invitation.” You smiled as you took in your surroundings. His home was a beautiful sprawling estate. He must have been wealthier than you thought. “You must give me a tour of the grounds - I would love to see the gardens.” You smiled at him as he offered you his arm.

“Of course Princess, I will show you whatever you wish after our meal - unless you’d like to go now?” He paused for a moment.

“After dinner would be just fine.” You answered as he guided all of you inside.

--

You weren’t sure what to expect about his home when the letter had come in earlier but it was a pleasant surprise. There were fresh cut flowers everywhere, painstakingly detailed tapestries hung up on the walls as you made your way to the large dining room. Lush carpets and plush chairs, truly a man who enjoyed his comforts.

“You have a lovely home Poe.” You smiled as he led you to your seat.

“I thank you Princess -“ He turned to Din and the other Mandalorians waiting by the table. “-Please, sit with us. I meant what I said, you are all welcome at my table.” He gestured to them to sit.

“I do not wish to intrude, we would be happy to eat with the rest of your household guard.” Din replied, his voice was clipped however.

“Nonsense. I insist, I dare say the Princess would be more comfortable if you were to join us.” He said it with an easy smile and Din hesitated slightly before agreeing. They all sat, lining their helmets up before them.

Din barely spoke.

He had never been one for long speeches - you were unsure whether it was because of the helmet, or just his nature. The other Mandalorians were friendlier and Poe took it all in stride. You could see that he took nothing personal and treated them just as he treated you.

Aside from Din’s cool demeanor and Poe’s etiquette, the dinner went well. The food was wonderful and you didn’t fail to notice some of your favourites on the menu.

“I took the liberty of finding out what you like to eat.” He said it quietly, not wanting to draw attention and you favoured him with a smile. It was hard not to like him, he was very thoughtful.

Once the meal was done, he fulfilled his promise and escorted you outside. It was much more open than the gardens back home - everything illuminated by torches and lanterns. There were flowers and neatly pruned shrubbery surrounding the large building. You noticed a stable on one side, as well a modest greenhouse on the other.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re used to but I enjoy it. The kennels are just behind the stables and there are flowers and different fruit trees just to the right there - that’s where they get the most sun. I’m afraid the night doesn’t do it justice, it’s much lovelier during the day.” He was walking you through the grounds, your arm tucked under his as your party followed.

“It’s lovely, truly.” You were sincere and you couldn’t help but look up, the sky awash in stars. “I would imagine you must spend a lot of time out here.” You let him guide the way.

“Not as often as I'd like to, but I try. Perhaps when we marry I’ll make more of an effort.” He said it with a wink and you scoffed loudly but without malice.

“Oh is that so? Well then I suppose I’ll have to change some things around since in your mind I’ll live here hm?” Your tone was playful but sarcastic and you were acutely aware of Din following the two of you.

“Oh yes Princess, I am quite sure. My home is yours and you may do with it what you will. I live only to make you happy.” He was just as playful and as annoyed as you were that he was so confident in your union, it was also aggravatingly refreshing to be able to speak to someone so honestly - better yet for them to respond in kind.

You ignored it, Poe was charming, that’s all.

Much to your annoyance, the night was enjoyable. Poe was an excellent host and it was later than you had originally planned when you set off for home. The woods were pitch black in some spots, it made you anxious to ride in the wheelhouse while the world outside seemed like it didn’t exist. The soft light of the moon doing nothing to pierce through the darkness of the road at times.

Reaching the palace had been a relief and you said as much when you stepped out.

“You should have told me Princess, I would have ridden in it with you - if it would have helped.” He spoke as he guided you inside. You had wanted to, but the temptation of having him so close would have been too much - and as much as Mila knew about your feelings towards him - you didn’t want her to see you kissing him.

You patted his arm in silent thanks and he said nothing else.

When you reached your room you hesitated at the door, wanting him to pull you away somewhere but he didn’t - instead he waited until Mila got in. He took his helmet off and you smiled at the state of his hair. Your fingers itched to ruffle through it.

“Princess, if it’s not too late, I would ask you to join me for a midnight ride.” He waited for your answer and your smile widened.

“Of course! Would you permit me to change quickly?” You didn’t want to ride in such a stuffy gown - as beautiful as it was.

“I will wait however long it takes.” He motioned for you to go and you did - urging Mila to help you once you reached your bedchamber.

“The soft linen dress I think - with the long shift and the heavy cloak. I want to be comfortable and warm.” You changed as fast as humanly possible - all but ripping the jewelry off and within a few minutes you were rushing out the door. The two of you making your way towards the stables as silently as possible.

You watched him work deftly, his skilled hands saddling his horse with ease. One horse, not two.

“Are we to ride together?” You looked at him confused.

“Is this a problem for you Princess? I thought it might be quicker to get us to safety should something happen if we were on the same horse. I could saddle you your own if you prefer - we just wouldn’t travel too far.” He hesitated momentarily and your heart leapt at the thought that he would be holding you so closely.

“I trust your judgment Sir, one horse it is.” You kept your voice neutral and he nodded, finishing his work quickly. Once he was done - he helped you up and pulled himself up behind you. The cool beskar pressed up against your back as his arms reached around you to grab the reins.

Your dress pooled up around your thighs slightly, but your legs were covered by your big cloak but it was exciting nonetheless. You felt exposed, with his proximity it excited you way more than it should have. It felt forbidden, taboo and thrilling to have it feel like he was holding you. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his body slightly but he didn’t complain.

The ride through the forest was quiet except for the sound of the night birds, the crickets and the creatures that prowled at this time. The sound of the horses' steps, the sound of its breathing mixing with yours as well as Din’s. He rode through trees, through the little paths only he seemed to know and after a while you were beside a lake. The soft sound of the water kissing the shore added to the nightsong and you were happy that he had brought you here. He had been silent the whole ride, but you felt him take his helmet off behind you and secure it somehow to the saddle.

“You should know that you looked exceptionally lovely today Princess, blue is your colour.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered. You turned slightly to look back but you couldn’t fully face him, the angle awkward but he kissed you just under your ear to let you know it was okay.

“I thank you Sir, I hoped you would like it.” You leaned back into his arms to tuck your head under his chin.

“You wore that for me? I thought you wore it for Dameron.” His hands came up to hold onto your arms as he pressed little kisses to your neck.

“I always dress for you.” You left it at that, hoping he would understand that despite everything- he was the one you wanted.

“Can I confess something?” His hand came up to slowly undo the cloak tied at your throat.

“Yes, anything.” You answered almost breathlessly, watching his hands open up the cloak to expose your shoulders, the skin of your thighs poking out where the dress had bunched up even more.

“You might think me wicked but, I thought about what it would be like to kiss you.” His hand trailed down as he spoke, rubbing at your thighs over your dress and you watched them in the low light of the moon, mesmerized.

“You’ve kissed me before Sir, you could kiss me now.” You turned a little more but he stopped you.

“I wasn’t thinking about kissing your mouth lovely girl, I was thinking about kissing you somewhere else.” His hands slowly gathered the fabric of your dress, bunching it in his fist - lifting it inch by inch to bare your legs to him. “May I show you where I want to kiss you?” He stopped but you clung onto his arms around you.

“Yes - please show me.” You felt is other hand join the fray and soon he had exposed your lower half to the cool night air. Your undergarments were damp you knew it - the arousal pooling low in your belly at the thought that he might touch you where you most wanted him to. He didn’t disappoint.

His hand trailed up your inner thigh lightly, slowly, up until he skillfully slid it into your undergarments. He groaned deep in his chest when he touched your bare sex.

“Right here. I long to kiss you, taste you here.” His touch was feather light on the lips of your womanhood, slipping along the seam of you. You whimpered, no one had ever touched you here and you felt the slick dripping out of you as you let him explore. “Would you let me Princess? Would you let me bury my tongue right here?” He dipped his fingers low, parting you slightly to dip his fingers just at the entrance - collecting your arousal onto his fingers before slipping them out and bringing them to his mouth behind you. You moaned at the sound of him sucking you off of them and you nodded frantically.

“Yes Din, I would let you - I’m yours.” You moaned the words and his other hand held you in place.

“And I am yours.” He responded before bringing his hand back to where you craved it, this time he spread the lips of your cunt open wide, honing his middle finger on the pearl of your sex. He rubbed tight, slow circles around it and you moaned - trying desperately to open your legs wider. He chuckled darkly behind you.

“Does that feel good Princess?” He turned your face with his other hand, twisting his upper body enough to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, not quite aligned but it sent a shiver of arousal through you and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher- his finger relentless as he sped up a little.

“Yes - Gods yes - it feels so good Din, I thought about you too.” You moaned the words into his mouth. “I think about you touching me like this, when I do it to myself.” He groaned at your confession, his tongue thick in your mouth when he kissed you again.

His finger dipped low to collect more wetness and the glide of it was just right, just slippery enough to send you over the edge and you almost screamed. Your body seizing up with pleasure as your sex clenched around nothing. He cooed into your ear as you rode it out.

“You are intoxicating my lovely one.” He kissed your neck, as he lowered your skirts.

You watched him, blissed out and boneless as he licked his fingers before grabbing the reins again and slowly making his way back to the palace.

-

Mila was snoring softly when you slipped into the room and you were careful not to wake her and as tired as you were from travel it took you a long time to fall asleep. Your heart full of love for Din and a hunger you couldn’t satiate filled your belly. It was a craving for his body, for his kisses, for physical love a woman shared with her husband. You fell asleep hoping - though secretly knowing- that he craved you the same way.

—-

As happy as you were when you awoke the next morning, it was quickly dampened - your father informed you that Poe was to arrive at the Palace as his honoured guest. That he was to stay for a time as a gesture of good will.

You saw right through it.

Your parents had decided that Poe was the suitor they wanted for you and they weren’t being at all subtle.

They informed you with big smiles on their faces, no doubt in hopes of pushing you towards him. It was exhausting - this constant reminder that you would never be truly free to live the life you wanted with Din.

When Poe arrived, he was happy - taking this as a sign that he was winning you over.

“Greetings Princess, I cannot tell you how happy I am to be able to spend more time with you.” He was all smiles and you had no choice but to smile back.

“It will be interesting for sure.” With the way you felt about Din, the intense desire to be around him was at the forefront of your mind. As well as the way Din behaved around Poe, it would definitely be interesting to say the least.

—

Your father invited Poe to dine at your private table, and he engaged him in conversation almost the whole night. They spoke of the future, of how Poe would help rule if he were indeed to marry you. Your mother smiled silently, happy to let the conversation center around the two of you.

Din stood still behind your fathers chair and you wanted nothing more than to pull him to sit with you. To talk to him, kiss him and feed him from your own plate.

“I would want to help people to be quite honest, extend a hand to those that aren’t as fortunate as us. There are people out there starving and that doesn’t sit right with me.” He was honest, to a fault like he said but you admired that.

“That’s very noble of you my boy.” The king nodded.

“It’s very honourable isn’t it my darling?” Your mother smiled at you and you smiled back, nodding around a bite of your food.

“I’m sure the Princess and I could do much and more to help the people who need it the most, if she would let me that is.” He had a shy, genuine smile for you, tentatively reaching over and taking your hand in his. You couldn’t very well snatch it back but you felt Din’s eyes burning into the interaction.

This could get messy.

“Princess, I would humbly ask that you accompany me for a walk through the grounds - chaperoned by your knight of course.” He asked as the remnants of the meal were taken away.

“Oh I’m sure she’d love to join you wouldn’t you sweetling?” Your mother cooed, and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes of course.” You let him guide you, Din following closely behind.

—

“I hope I’m not intruding - I know that the King and Queen are very keen for this to work between us.” He held your hand as you walked arm in arm and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Yes they are aren’t they.” Your tone came out a little more exasperated than you’d hoped but he was well aware that you were not to be swayed by him so easily, you knew he should expect some hesitancy from you.

“I understand that you aren’t impressed and that I am most likely not your first choice. For all I know you might already have your eye on someone else.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at Din. “Regardless of that Princess, I know this must be difficult for you but I beg of you to give me a chance to show you that there is potential here. I believe that in time you might come to love me.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

“You are selling yourself quite hard Poe, I appreciate that you understand that my feelings for you aren’t where you want them to be.” You looked up at him apologetically, expecting him to have a sad look on his face but he surprised you; he was smiling - content to listen to you speak.

“I know, it’s not in you right now but I believe you will see me in a different light. I have faith.” He left the conversation there.

——

It was hard to find time to meet with Din, Poe seemed to be everywhere and his determination seemingly had no bounds.

Your mother found you as you dressed for the day - she had a note from Poe. He was asking you to accompany him into town to hand out some supplies. You couldn’t refuse him, not when your mother had delivered it herself.

“Will Din accompany us?” You asked it offhand, your voice neutral - your face a mask of nonchalance.

“No your father is going on a hunt and Din will be protecting him, there will be other guards with you.” She said it with a shake of her hand as she searched your wardrobe for an appropriate dress. “This will do nicely.” She picked out an off the shoulder, deep berry coloured dress that was not at all practical for a day out in the city.

It would have to do.

-

He had taken you to an orphanage in the heart of the city. There were kids running around of all ages and the older ones ran towards Poe when you entered - recognizing him. He had a big smile on his face as they hugged him around the middle, all decorum forgotten.

“Poe did you bring us anything?” A boy of about twelve years was eager, looking around you to the entourage of guards waiting behind you.

“Of course, brought all of you some good stuff like I always do.” He ruffled the boys hair before he held his hand out to you, you smiled and stepped forward. “I have someone very special here with me today, this is the Princess. Come on over and say hello.” He called them over to you and you saw some of the little girls eyes light up. They flocked to you, asking you if you were indeed the Princess. Asked you if you had a crown, and most importantly why you were there. They were precious.

“She’s here to help just like I am.” Poe answered for you.

A little girl of about six pulled on your dress and you lowered yourself slightly to be at her level.

“Princess, I like your dress, you’re so pretty.” She was smiling at you, her hair was a tangle but her eyes were bright.

“Thank you sweetling, you are much prettier I must say.” You moved the hair out of her eyes and she smiled wide, her little hand clutching at a makeshift cloth doll.

You helped Poe hand out toys and new clothes and there was food for them to eat. You spent the day playing with them and learning about their lives. The women who ran the orphanage knew him and you saw that all of the talk of helping the less fortunate was real, he had already been doing much more than you had ever even imagined.

It was hard to deny the little spark of something that he held within you.

He was handsome, he was kind and smart- funny and generous and with the way his eyes found yours throughout the day; he felt something for you. His eyes were piercing, dark and mysterious and for the first time, he gave you butterflies.

One of the little ones was showing you his space within the building, his bed and his tiny toy horse. He was waxing poetic about how one day he would be a knight. You were smiling at him when Poe stood next to you, his gaze heavy and it sent a flush crawling up your neck to light up your ears.

The fabric at his neck was crumpled and you couldn’t help but reach up to fix it, your arm extended over to him and his gaze focused on it, reached up to hold it to his neck. He placed a delicate kiss to your bicep and pulled you closer. The act was small, but so intimate it did something to you. Melted a tiny piece of you that up until now was frozen to him and he saw it on your face. Felt it in the way you let him hold you close, your arm still around his neck, his hand moving down to hold onto your waist.

The little boy was in front of you now, asking Poe if he would ever give him a real horse and he laughed, not unkindly.

“One day my boy, one day I will give you a horse - only if you promise to behave and be on your best behaviour. Can you do that?” The little boy nodded sagely promising he would. You didn’t pull your arm away, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

—-

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[randynova]

♡𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷♡

𝓖𝓾𝓷 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐺𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠):𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡(𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝)! 𝐺𝑢𝑛

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

“Why couldn’t this have waited until another day?” Gun muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off his taut frame, and neatly folding it, placing it onto the roof of his car. He was glad he hadn't put his jacket on, having left it in his passenger seat. “I can’t dirty my clothes again, [Name] will be mad if I get blood on it.” He rolled his broad shoulders until they released a satisfying crack, his thick muscles bulging as he stretched his arms across his scarred chest. Gun peered at a nearby store, the digital clock displaying in big white numbers, ‘7:45 PM’. He groaned, his lips curling into a scowl whilst his arms fell to his side. He didn’t have enough time to deal with this.

“Hmm, and it’s almost time for our date. Fuck.” Gun whispered to himself. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. He removed his shades and revealed his dark gaze, placing his favorite accessory to his side as well. “I’ll make this quick, Goo. I have more important places to be.”

Goo laughed, grinning in his spot as he balanced a pole in his hands. He rolled his eyes, arching a brow at his partner. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gun, maybe if you didn’t spend all your time by [Name]’s side, we could have dealt with this matter much earlier. That girl has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, huh?”

“Shut it,” Gun said, already racing towards the blonde and thrusting his fist, knuckles colliding with metal. Upon the cold sensation meeting his skin, he wanted to absolutely kill Goo and rip him to shreds. This would take longer than he wanted, wasting his already precious, short time. He backed off, having a considerable distance between the two, stretching his fingers a few times before clenching them again. He growled, spitting venomously,  “You just like picking fights.” 

“You did too. Before you met her, y’know,” Goo tutted, waving his finger in the air. He scoffed, voice low, “Who would’ve thought? Gun going soft for a girl. Psh, pathetic. Never thought I’d live to see the day...” The blonde trailed off, his face becoming stoic, his mind wandering. You truly had to be someone exceptional if you managed to have a guy like Gun to fall for you. He always wondered who you were, how you looked like, what you did, but Gun had kept you a secret from the world of crime. He hid almost every known trace abou you and tied every loose end that implicated you existed. No one knew who you were and no one could find you — unless Gun allowed them to. 

Goo found it so irritating how he was unable to know the girl who made such a notorious gangster go soft. 

He only met you once and that was by pure sheer luck; dropping by unexpectedly at one of Gun's apartments, only to be met with the sight of you. Seeing how Gun reacted, he knew you were supposed to be kept hush-hush. But boy, did he have a field day the next time he saw the man.

Goo had to meet you again. Or at least, know you more.

Only when Gun’s fist connected with Goo’s face did the man snap out of his thoughts, the impact of such force throwing him a few feet backwards. He dug his feet into the floor, a high-pitched screech coming from his shoes as the rubber burned against the pavement. With his sleeve, Goo wiped his cheek, seeing a speck of blood staining his clothes. Goo chuckled, standing up straight with a grin, “If I can remember right, you told me you got Eli Jang in trouble for basically the same thing. What was her name again? Heather?”

Goo blocked the upcoming attack, his pole raised and crossed above his face. He pushed Gun back with an effortless swing of the pole. He tilted his head and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “How is [Name] any different from Heather? What does she have on you?”

Gun twisted his neck gently until he heard a crack, looking back at Goo as he hissed with venom, “Nothing.”

“Let me think, let me think….” Goo hummed, racking his mind for any possibility that someone like Gun would stay with a woman longer than one night. His face lit up and he broke out into a wide grin, pointing a finger at Gun. “Aha! You got the poor girl knocked up, right?! See, I always tell you to wear protection! Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, hm? Shaaame.” 

“Ugh, fuck no. I don’t want kids and neither does she. We made that clear at the beginning," Gun said with a sneer, annoyed beyond comprehension at Goo's antics. 

“Awe, I really thought she held something over you. How about this: I’ll stop fighting you if you tell me why you’re still with such a pretty girl like [Name]? Deal?" Goo offered, slinging the pole onto his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he spat maliciously, knowing each word would wind and rile Gun's emotions. "She deserves better than a perverted gangster, you both know that.”

Gun stayed silent, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. Goo’s last words struck a chord in him, sending a pang through his heart upon hearing an insecurity he’ll never admit to. Of course. Everyone told you to stay away from a man like Gun. People kept telling you you will only get hurt in the end, that a better man will come along and sweep you off your feet if you just waited, or you could always do better than him. But you never listened. You stayed by his side, even when the whole world looked down on you two. Even for months, he tried convincing himself he felt nothing for you, but after a while, he finally accepted that someone managed to tear down his walls and enter his hollow, cold heart — you. 

You were just a different kind of girl - no- a different kind of woman. A special woman he had the pleasure of meeting. One he wouldn’t dare let go of now that he has the privilege of calling you ‘mine’. And by any god out there, he won’t be a stupid fool to lose you.

Gun sighed. “I tell you and you’ll put this stupid fight behind us, right?”

Goo placed a hand over his chest, replying shortly, “You have my word.~”

“[Name] is just that special person you meet once in your life. One you know you can’t let go of because there isn’t another like her. Simple as that.”

“What?! Ugh, don’t be boring! Tell me more!”

“You asked why I  stayed with her and I told you.”

“Yeah, but I expected a story, not some sad attempt at an old man’s wise words.”

A low guttural sound rumbled in Gun’s throat, his eye twitching. “Maybe when I’m in a better mood I’ll tell you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my woman.”

Goo groaned and tossed his pole to the side, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Fiiine, but you owe me a story. "

"Whatever—damnit," Gun looked at the clock once again and his face contorted into one of pure irate. "I'm late."

'8:12 PM'

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Your head rested on your hand, balancing a glass of wine between your fingers, twirling the cup as the liquid swished around. Your eyes were looking down on the glory of Gangdong, the shimmering, blinding lights of the city mesmerizing you. The city always looked beautiful at this time of night. You just wished you could enjoy it with the person you cherished. A sigh leaves your lips and you look away, eyes trailing to the other tables over the balcony. 

The lingering eyes of many strange men didn't faze you anymore, the two burly boys surrounding your table always making them avert their gaze as fast as it landed. A courtesy of your boyfriend, who was at least thirteen minutes late, who insisted on you needing to be guarded at all times. You knew if he were here, no one would dare to even breathe in your direction, let alone glance. 

The cool air pricked your skin and a shiver passed through your body, reminding you of where you were. For a man as smart as him, Gun tended to neglect keeping the season in mind when planning your dates. Nonetheless, you were happy he went out of his way to take you out on such a busy schedule. 

You jumped in your seat, snapping out of your thoughts. A jacket was wrapped around your frame, warmth immediately enveloping you as the fabric made contact with your bare skin. You looked up and smiled. 

Gun stood behind you, towering over your sitting form as he made sure you were nice and covered. His coat basically swallowed you whole. A small stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, it’s fluffy fur peeking out. He walked over to take his seat, pulling the chair out, and wasting no time to slip in. He waved to the guards and they nodded, beginning to clear the scene of people.

“Sorry I’m late, [Name],” Gun started, taking the stuffie out from underneath his arm and presenting it to you. Oh, how adorable. "I brought you a gift as an apology."

A small brown otter sat in his palms, barely taking up Gun's hands. It’s beady, plastic eyes looked straight at you, a little smile stitched onto its snout. A snort left you. The sight of such a well-dressed, intimidating man carrying such an adorable toy was  amusing. "Really now? Just a cute toy, Gun?"

Gun sighed and sat up a bit from his chair, leaning over the table, and cupping your face as he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As quick as it started, Gun's lips left and he was seated once again. You pout. "Don't give me that look, [Name]. We can do more at home if you want but not here."

"It's not wrong to be disappointed in no kiss on the mouth after not seeing your boyfriend for such a long time. Don't you think I deserve it?"

Gun smirked, placing his shades on the table and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He gave a light squeeze and you didn't miss a beat as you squeezed his coarse hand back. The way you pursed your lips and looked at him with such glossy, innocent eyes made his heart swell. With such a pretty, cute face, it was hard to say no to you. "Hmm, maybe. But Olly told me you crossed paths with Hostel A." Gun spoke, slipping his hands from yours and picking up his dinnerware, quickly cutting the savory meat into pieces. He didn't hesitate to put a piece up to your mouth, a hand underneath so as to not have the juice leak. "I was told you nearly broke the Uncles' bones and Big Daddy himself."

Your face scrunched up and you scoffed, shaking your head. You placed the stuffed animal to the side, petting it. "Figured those assholes wouldn’t tell you everything. The ‘uncles’ wouldn’t leave me alone and I thought Olly was another one of those bastards,” you snap, sitting back in your seat with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was trying to help when he dresses like that? I thought he was trying to assault me for God’s sake!”

Gun placed down his fork on his plate and his face twisted into one of fury, eyes turning cold and rigid as all the warmth disappeared whilst his lips curled back into a nasty frown. You almost thought his infamous scowl was directed towards you, but you knew better. You dear boyfriend wouldn't dare lay a single finger on you if it didn't bring you pleasure. "They what?" 

You smiled softly, placing your hand over his as it clenched into a fist. With your small attempt at trying to soothe him by rubbing small circles, you spoke with a bit of hesitation, "Ah, yeah. They kept trying to get my number and wouldn't let me leave the booth I was in. I had no other choice than to use the training you taught me. Since I never met Olly, I really thought he was just another one of them and I reacted before thinking, making me attack him too."

Gun scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to your explanation with disbelief, every word fueling his rage of someone daring to hit on his woman. Every fiber in Gun's body screamed, wanting to feel their skin underneath his fists as he pounded them into oblivion. But the only thing stopping him was his date with you. For now, he'll put his anger aside to be with you and keep you happy. Who knows how long he'll be gone and when he'll see you again. The man has to make every second count. 

Yet, he couldn’t let this go unpunished.

"Fuck." Gun leans closer to you and sits on the edge of his chair. Placing his hand over yours, he slips his fingers to grasp your palm, and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing tender kisses against your knuckles. His thumb grazing softly across your fingers and his eyes flutter shut. You couldn't help but stare in awe, never quite seeing him like this.

So careful with you, so gentle, you were surprised he wasn't seething in his seat and threatening to break their heads open. Gun opens his eyes and looks up at you, shaking in his seat. “I promise I’ll have those fuckers begging on their knees for your forgiveness. They should know better than to treat a woman with such rudeness and disrespect. Shit, I’ll go right now. I’ll beat them till-”

Your sweet laugh reaches his ears, cutting him off from his little speech. You lean in and pull in his hand to your lips, pressing a tender peck to his coarse knuckles. Gun felt his heart race and skip a beat at the sight, shock crossing his features. You look up, looking at your boyfriend with mirthful eyes. “As much fun as that sounds, I'd rather you stay here. Please? I want to spend as much time with you before you go back to work.”

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in your words. He looked away, clicking his tongue before he broke out into a small smile, a blush blooming across his cheeks and the tip of his ears burning a bright red. “Of course, [Name]. Though, you could’ve just said you like spending time with me.”

Giggling, you lower your hands and shake your head. “Gun, of course I like spending time with you. You’re my favorite person and I love you after all.” Your voice said those three words with such fondness, it’s as if the man was in a dream. 

If your words from before didn’t send Gun over the edge, your proclamation of love surely did now. He looked down, grinning like an idiot, showing a soft, bashful side he’s never revealed to anyone before. He swore his heart would jump out of his throat from how fast it was pounding against his ribcage. Gun grasped your hand tightly and sighed blissfully, Gently, he spoke, gazing at you with loving eyes, “I love you too.”

You smiled.

The tension in the air grew to be too much and both of you found it unbearable, wanting to do what both of you have been waiting for for weeks.

Both of you sat up and leaned over the table, closing the gap between you two as your lips interlocked, slipping together like if you were made for eachother. The kiss sparked and fed the fire both of you held in your hearts, burning brighter with every moment you spent at one another’s side. Gun couldn’t help but smile against your mouth.

As much as he hated being apart from you for so long, moments like these made the long hours worth it. If working so much meant he could provide for you, then he wouldn't mind doing it for the rest of his life if you had a roof over your head and a nice, warm meal at night.

Afterall, you were his woman.

And he loved you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .

✦✦✦✦✦✦

[fang-natic]

hide and seek

<omega!tsukishima x top!m reader>

author's notes: i jacked off, did some algebra, and then speedran this in three hours or something. i have two exams to prepare for. what am i doing

cw: noncon, a/b/o dynamics, locker room, semi-public, breeding, creampie, knotting, humiliation, light bondage, plugging, virginity loss, degradation, biting, mentions of blackmail at the end

He tried so hard to hide it. Took on this superior, know-it-all sporty persona and limited how many people he really talked to, but you could tell the moment you laid eyes on him. Even despite how he acted, you could tell he wasn't anything like the proud beta he claimed to be.

Maybe that's why you wanted him. You don't usually care, you're popular enough that you could have any omega you wanted, but the fact that he bothered hiding it made him desirable. That's why you corner him in the locker room one day, slamming him against the metal and kissing him before he knew what was happening, and by the time he realized you were already ripping away his shorts and boxers.

"Y/N-!" He grunts, struggling against you as you grab his small cock, tugging on it ruthlessly as he fights back a groan. "W-what are you-"

"You really thought you could hide it from me, didn't you? Tsukishima-chan," You growl, twisting your hand and making him cry out. "You're not as clever as you think, omega."

His face pales, anger and confusion getting replaced by fear in a split second. "I don't know what you're talking a-ah!" He tries to play it off, but you press a finger against his hole and he gasps, back arching. He's tight, as expected of a virgin, but he's already wet - no surprise, given how roughly you're handling him, and your pheromones that no doubt must be working against whatever suppressors he'd been using. You laugh, and press a little harder, and that little bit of pressure is all it takes for your finger to breech him. His walls clamp down on your digit, practically sucking you in, and if that wasn't just more evidence to the secret, slutty omega that he was, you didn't know what was.

The hands clawing at your shoulders aren't so much there to push you away anymore, as they are to help keep him propped up as his legs threaten to give away, leaning against the lockers with eyes closed and filthy sounds escaping his mouth. You lift up one of his thighs to give yourself more access, and thrust into him with two fingers, scissoring slowly so he can feel every inch of the stretch, can hear his own slick squelching with every slow push. Two fingers wouldn't be nearly enough to prep him, but you always liked it tight. As you press up against his prostate, his back arches, and he moans wantonly into the thankfully empty locker room.

His eyes shoot open when he hears his own whorish voice echoed back at him, and he slaps a hand over his mouth. Just as quickly, you grab his wrist and wrench it away, claiming his mouth in a rough kiss and biting his lip bloody, licking the metallic taste off of his tongue.

"Don't hold back, Tsukishima-chan," You croon as you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting to his mouth, as he blinks dumbly. "You should show off how much of a slutty omega you are. It's the least you can do after lying to everyone, isn't it?"

"M'not an omega." he insists, voice trembling.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, right. And this little pussy isn't aching to get bred." You punctuate that sentence with a sharp press, digging into his prostate, and he actually squeals, knocking his head against the metal as you rub relentlessly at that little bundle of nerves, his tiny cock sticking straight up and leaking. You laugh, and pull your hand out in one sharp movement, before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and dragging it up over his head, wrapping it around his wrists to keep them tied behind his back.

You turn him over, pressing his bare chest and face against the cool metal and making him yelp, gripping him by the bindings around his wrists. They're not very tight, and he could break free if he tried, but he's surprisingly pliant to your touch, and his back is flushed so prettily. His legs are weak, so you have to help prop him up with one hand on his hip.

"Still think you're not an omega?" You whisper right in his ear as you pull out your cock and line it up against his slick hole. You don't bother giving him time to reply as you force yourself in, with one powerful push. It's not easy, because you definitely didn't prepare him enough, and it's tight enough to almost hurt. But the sight of his face, his mouth dropping open in a gasp, tensing up and then going limp with pain even as his dick stayed erect, was enough to have you setting a ruthless pace. Each deep thrust slams against his prostate, rattling the metal lockers, making his eyes roll up; he couldn't even moan, and judging by the way his breathing was stuttered and erratic, you could guess that you were basically fucking the breath out of him.

"Nn-no-sto-" He manages, and you laugh and reposition your grip on his hips, driving deeper. "Hurts-"

"Don't lie to me," You snap, landing a sharp slap against his ass, and he cries out. "Look at you. You're taking me so perfectly, your tight hole is practically begging to get bred. It's practically milking me." His pale skin somehow gets even redder with your words. "You should thank me for breeding your dirty pussy. Go on, say 'thank you'."

He sinks his teeth in his bottom lip in resolute refusal. What a stubborn brat. With a growl, you land another slap against his other cheek, turning it bright red, and his shoulders actually shake with a sob, though you can feel his ass tighten up at the same time. "Well? Tsuki-chan? I can't hear you. I won't let you cum until you do." To make your point, you reach around and pinch the base of his cock, still dripping pathetically against his stomach. "Say 'Y/N-senpai, thank you for breeding my dirty pussy.' If you're so smart, you should be able to say that, shouldn't you?"

He's tearing up behind his glasses, struggling to focus on you. "Puh-please," He stammers, "I-I won't tell anyone, just-"

You click your tongue. "That's not what I told you to say," You tut, and you pull out, sitting down heavily on the bench. You drag Tsukishima down with you, positioning him so he's facing you, cupping his cheeks, and holding him over your waiting cock. "Did I already fuck the brains out of you? Last chance before I tie you up and leave you here for everyone else to find. I don't waste time with disobedient omegas like you."

He shakes in your grip, and you can tell he's having a hard time deciding what to do. Between knowing that he shouldn't be wanting this, that this should be his nightmare scenario, and the fact that he was finally allowing his omega side be satisfied for once, all those brilliant cogs in his head was burning out in a thick haze of arousal. His hips twitch downwards, his body betraying him, and tears finally spill out of his eyes.

"Th-thank you, Y/N-s-senpai," He stutters out. "For b-breeding my dirty pussy."

You smirk, and drag him down. From this position, you're able to fuck him deeper than ever, and his head shoots back in a wail as you bottom out. "That's a good boy." You wrap your arms around his waist and fuck up into him, pulling him down at the same time. His legs lock around your own waist, pulling him closer to you, and he's moaning without restraint now, fully given in to instincts and the sensation of being fucked. From this angle, you can bite marks into his collarbone and chest, and pull his nipples between your teeth, making him moan louder, drool spilling out the corner of his mouth.

When you finally cum inside him, it's enough to send him over the edge too, the sensation of hot seed filling him enough to his cock spurt over his bare stomach. He practically passes out against your chest, face nestled against your shoulder as you pull the t-shirt off of his arms, using it to wipe up the mess he left on his abdomen.

You lay him out on his back on the bench, spreading his legs apart to show off his hole, flushed and almost leaking your cum onto the wood. You chuckle, whipping out your phone to snap a few pictures of the pretty sight, before pulling a silver plug from your pocket and shoving it into his hole. You're tempted to leave him here like this, for all his teammates to find, but the whole point of blackmail was ensuring that you had all the cards to yourself first. You settle for grabbing a spare pair of shorts from your duffle and sliding them on him, before draping the soiled t-shirt over his torso.

You reach up and swipe a thumb at the corner of his eyes, beneath his glasses, clearing away the tears before you go.

[badassbuchanan]

My Girl

Request: Could you writer some sort of frenemies thing with Bucky where everyone thinks you hate each other but then Loki starts flirting with you and it makes Bucky really jealous??

Warnings: smut; non!con turned fucking sickly sweet, fingering, slut shaming, unprotected sex, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, angst.

Word count: 7968

A/N: I apologise for messing with your hearts like this - I also strayed a bit from the request (sorry anon!) x

“Buchanan, you fucker!” Y/N yelled from across the compound moments before Bucky strutted into the boardroom with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the team’s head’s turned to follow the loud noise of Y/N yelling, watching the long haired super soldier enter the room with a smug look on his face.

“Not again.” Bruce sighed softly, his head falling into his hand as he prepared himself for another bickering match between Y/N and Bucky. 

“Don’t you walk away from me.” Y/N followed Bucky into the room, her eyes fixed on the back of his head as he casually made his way over to the others. 

“Guys, cut it out.” Tony spoke sternly, trying to control the two avengers who were constantly at each other’s throats. 

“Just wait until you hear what he said.” Y/N looked over at Tony who’s palms were pressed against the edge of the large conference table. He shook his head, looking between the two is disbelief. 

“I don't ca-”

“Don’t be such a baby.” Bucky retaliated to Y/N childishly before Tony could speak. The super soldier slumped down in the empty seat next to Cap, his eyes focused on her from across the room as his elbows rested on the arm rests of the swivel chair. Neither of them cared that they’d bought the whole room into the argument. “All I said was I’d rather take my chances with spider-boy than have Y/N as my partner on a mission.” 

“This is coming from the guy who couldn’t even hold on to a train.” She growled as she pulled out the seat next to Nat, who was smiling an amusement at how well Y/N stood up for herself. Bucky scoffed at her comment, shaking his head as he thought of something to anger her further.

Peter’s face screwed up in shock after realising his name had been mentioned, his arms coming up to cross over his body defensively. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked as a devious smile appear on Bucky’s face. Peter glanced over at Tony for help, but he was too annoyed to care about the youngest avenger’s feelings. 

“It means-” Y/N words were cut off by a loud bang of Tony’s hand hitting the desk. The sound made everyone jolt slightly, the room immediately silencing.

“Enough!” He yelled furiously, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he glared between the bickering pair. “I didn’t call this meeting to hear you two fight. You’re already late, now stop acting like children and listen up.” 

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop the laughter that was building up inside of her from hearing Tony yell as she glared over at Bucky.

“Asshole.” She mouthed to Bucky, who was already smirking at the fact that they’d been told off like toddlers. 

“Snitch.” He whispered back cheekily, secretly liking the way he knew it would make her laugh. Bucky liked being the only reason she got frustrated, wound up and tense. But he also liked being the only reason she smiled, laughed and blushed.

Bucky had this hold on Y/N that couldn’t be explained. She’d tried to reason with herself, telling her inner-self it was just her caring nature that made her feel sorry for him, even when he was a complete dick to her. He was constantly doing things to purposely annoy her or to get a reaction. It gave him a thrill. Like a power trip that sent pleasure to his brain. And he took advantage of that any chance he got.

“Now, over the past few weeks the threats from the Beyonders have increased noticeably.” Tony stood up straight, tugging his collar back into place as he clicked the button of the control he was holding. The screen changed, a mathematical graph appearing to prove Tony’s point. 

Y/N chanced a glance over at Bucky, his fingers on each hand intwined as he swivelled lightly in the chair. God, he was so infuriating. There wasn’t a day that went by without him getting on her last nerve. He frustrated her beyond belief. But for some twisted reason, she loved it. 

“Now we don’t know a lot about who they are, what they want or where they came from.” Tony continued, the room dead silent as he flicked to the next slide.

Bucky bit the inside of his lip, a frown appearing on his brows as he zoned out to what Tony was saying. He was bored already, deciding to look down at his metal hand as he wiggled his fingers to amuse himself, studying the mechanics of it.

He felt a pair of eyes burning into him, glancing over to Y/N. A smug smile washed over his face when he noticed her already looking at him. He gave her a quick wink, pouting his lips into a kissing motion as she rolled her eyes. 

“So, we’ve had to call on the help of an old acquaintance.” Tony turned to face the team again, his fingers lightly tapping on the table in front of him as his eyes darted around the room. Luckily by that point, Y/N and Bucky had both turned their eyes back to the spokesman. 

Tony’s tongue quickly darted out to the corner of his mouth, the unknown reaction of the team was making him anxious.

“Excuse me, Mr Stark. Thor and Loki have just landed. Should I send them in?” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came through the intercom, immediately causing a few murmurs from the team. 

“Loki’s here?” Y/N’s eyes lit up immediately as she looked up at Tony for confirmation. Bucky’s head shot round to where she sat, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered who the hell Loki was and why Y/N was so excited to see him. 

“You called Loki?” Steve almost shot up out of his chair, a look of betrayal on his face as he stared at Tony, waiting for an explanation. “Tony, he is not an acquaintance.” 

The fact that Steve was so put off by the mention of Loki had Bucky even more concerned. If Steve had a problem with him, so did he. Especially since Y/N liked him. As the room grew louder in outbursts of resentment regarding Tony’s decision, so did Bucky’s brain. 

He watched Y/N try and fix her hair subtly, sitting up straighter in her chair as an unusual feeling flooded through him. He wasn't angry, but he sure as hell wasn’t happy. 

The beep of the boardroom door opening quickly silenced the group, Y/N’s head turning to watch the God of Thunder walk into the room. “Hello everyone.” Thor nodded with a sweet smile, pleased to be back with his friends again. “Good to see you all.”

It was almost as if a cold wind engulfed the room as Bucky watched the dark haired, chiseled faced, pale god strut into the room. Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he felt a wave of overwhelming hate flood through his body. He noticed Loki’s hair was longer than his own. His eyes brighter. His smile wider. His jaw sharper. 

“Greetings, all.” His voice was slicker. He was charismatic. He was charming. He was everything Bucky wasn’t and he fucking hated him. Bucky felt his heartbeat quicken as he watched Loki greet everyone individually, stopping in his tracks as he reached Y/N’s chair. 

She’d turned to face him, her eyes lit up like fireworks as she looked up at the god of mischief who had put his hands over his mouth. “My god,” Loki gasped softly as he pulled his best puppy dog face, leaning his hands on the arms of Y/N chair to get close to her. “Y/N, you look more beautiful every time I see you, my love.” 

Bucky felt his jaw clench so tight he was sure it would break. His hands closed into tight fists as he sat up a little straighter in his chair. He was livid. Livid at the fact that this green-eyed hot shot thought he could waltz in and steal Y/N away from him. Bucky was the only one that made her smile. He was the only one that got to have her attention. 

“Oh, Loki, stop, you’re making me blush.” She giggled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck like they belonged there. Loki turned his face towards her, leaving a gentle kiss on her flushed cheek before he stood back up. Bucky had never made her giggle like that. He’d never kissed her cheek before. He’d spent every damn day with her and he never got her to blush like a little school girl.

“Maybe later you can show me your favourite spots and we can talk about what's changed since I was last here.” Loki spoke softly, taking Y/N’s hand in his as he pulled it against his chest dotingly.

A few snickers broke out from the rest of the team, not surprised one bit at Loki and Y/N’s interaction. Believe it or not, Y/N wasn’t Loki’s biggest fan. She would never actually progress their friendship to anything more than flirting, deep down she didn’t trust him just as much as Steve didn’t. But Y/N did love the attention that Loki gave her. How he treated her like a princess and devoted himself to her every word. She liked how he complimented her and made a fuss. She liked how he made her feel special in a room full of people.

But all that Bucky saw unravelling in front of his eyes was the start of one of those soppy rom-coms that he despised. “We have training later, Y/N.” His words came out a lot more aggressive than he originally intended. 

The whole room’s attention turned to him, straight faced and stiffened body. Loki stood up straight as a glimmer shone in his eyes. He noticed how on edge the super soldier looked.

“Yeah, we’ll still have time to train, Bucky.” She spoke with a level of concern, noticing the unusual seriousness on Bucky’s face. “I wouldn’t skip on the opportunity to kick your ass.” She smirked, face immediately dropping as she watched Bucky quickly divert his eyes away, not entertaining her with his usual sarcastic response.

“Bucky?” Loki’s voice was low as thoughts flew through his brain at a million miles per hour. He smiled deviously, eyes squinting as his heart jumped at the chance to cause mischief. “James Buchanan Barnes. The winter soldier.” 

Bucky clenched his jaw again as his eyes flickered up to Loki before back to the table, he could feel his anger bubbling over. Loki had been getting under his skin ever since he walked through the damn door. 

“Hydra’s most successful experiment, their deadliest weapon.” Loki made a quick move around the table to stand in front of Bucky, his eyes widening with excitement as he held his hand out in front of him. “May I say what a pleasure it is to meet you.”

Steve noticed Bucky’s metal hand grip tightly around the arm of his chair as he politely lifted his flesh arm to quickly shake Loki’s hand. Bucky smiled as he momentarily looked up at the long haired god, using all of his will power to stay calm. 

“How did it feel to know how many people you killed once you got your mind back?” Loki’s words were slow and full of deviance as Bucky’s metal arm began whirring into action. 

Y/N watched worriedly, she annoyed the crap out of Bucky all the time, but she’d never seen him so angry. Her heart sunk as she watched Bucky’s eyes darken, a soft, lost look on his face that disappeared so quick she almost thought she’d imagined it.

Steve’s eyes widened as he watched the event unfold. “I think that’s enough chit chat, Loki.” He spoke sternly, Loki’s eyes immediately glancing over to Steve. He knew the fact that Steve had to step in meant he’d done a good job of infuriating Bucky. “Why don’t you just get on with what you came here to do.” 

Loki stayed silent, pleased with his work as he flickered quick a smile, striding back up to the front of the room where Tony stood. 

“The Beyonders are a race of extra-dimensional entities powerful enough to collect planets.” Loki went straight into ‘business mode’, his charismatic nature immediately made most of the room forget what he’d just said to Bucky.

But Steve was concerned, and embarrassingly enough, so was Y/N. Yes, she loved to aggravate Bucky, wind him up until he was chasing her down the hallway or whining at her to stop being a brat. But it was never to hurt him, she made sure of that. Not like what Loki had just done. She tried to silently get his attention by glancing over at him every now and then, but Bucky’s eyes didn’t budge from the table. 

“Their nature is so alien that they are unable to leave their own dimension and for millennia were never observed by any being of the Earth dimension.” Loki continued to teach the team about the threat they were facing, the room silent as mostly everyone paid attention. “To interact with the Earth dimension they must operate through agents.”

“So basically, what Loki is saying is, it’s not just one race we’re up against here. It’s gunna be a big ass battle.” Tony interjected Loki’s speech, he’d read the room enough to know he’d lost the attention of three of his avengers already. There was no need for this to continue. “That’s all you need to know for now. We’ll regroup tomorrow for another meeting. Thank you, Loki.” 

The team stood up, casually making their way out of the room after Tony had ended the meeting. Y/N lagged behind, watching Steve and Sam mumbling something incoherent to Bucky.

By the looks of things he didn’t want to listen to what they had to say, the long haired super soldier pushed past his oldest friend with a frown on his face, not lifting his eyes even once as he left the room.

Y/N sighed as she watched Bucky storm out of the room, she’d never seen him act out so much, he was always so internal with his emotions. She didn’t like the way Loki brought up Bucky’s past in front of everyone like that. She almost felt protective over Bucky, like she was the only one who should be able to tease him about that kind of stuff.

The look on Bucky’s face when Loki had mentioned the Winter Soldier’s assassinations made Y/N’s heart ache. It was as if everything came flooding back to him in an instant, like a bad dream he couldn’t wake up from. 

Y/N and Bucky had never discussed such personal things, no way. She didn’t know that he suffered from PTSD, flashbacks and social anxiety. She didn’t know about the nights he lay awake haunted by his past. All she saw was a grumpy looking soldier who only smiled when he was making fun of her.

“Darling,” Loki’s sudden call to her knocked Y/N out of her thoughts. Her head was forced to turn to the side by the god of mischief, whose hands were on her shoulders. He smiled down at her dotingly, eyes bright as he fed her attention-needy ego. “What do you say we make the most of this alone time we’ve been so generously given, hm?”

She smiled softly up at him, although her eyes were glazed over as her mind wandered off again. “Sorry Loki, but I should go and get ready for training.” Her voice was monotone and quiet as she suddenly wasn’t so interested in the attention of the man in front of her. 

She left the room and wandered through the compound, stopping in her tracks when she saw Sam, Steve and Nat talking in the kitchen. “Hey, Steve.” Y/N called out, confused as to why she was suddenly so concerned about the metal armed man. 

As all three of the avenger’s heads turned to where she was standing, Y/N began second guessing her decision to ask if Bucky was okay. She hated Bucky, he annoyed the shit out of her. Even if she asked, the team would just think she was asking to make sure he wasn’t okay. What if they thought she’d take Loki’s side? Or worse. What if they thought she’d set Loki up to hurt Bucky? Even worse than that. What if Bucky thought Y/N had set Loki up to hurt him? 

“Never mind.” She sighed as she bit the inside of her lip, continuing her walk through the compound until she reached her room. 

She quickly changed into a red sports bra with navy detailing and leggings to match. She looked in the mirror after tying her training shoes and tied her hair into a high pony tail. She turned around, shamelessly checking out her ass before making her way down to the training room. 

She waited for a whole half an hour for Bucky to show, but he never did. She stood up from where she’d eventually laid down on the rubber floor mat, she couldn’t help but feel guilty about what had happened earlier. Bucky obviously blamed her, why else wouldn’t he show? He’d never been late before. 

“He didn’t show, huh?” Y/N glanced up as Steve walked into the room, tight grey top and black shorts. 

She shook her head, lifting her arms to tighten her pony tail before placing her hands on her hips. “Any idea where he is?” 

“In his room.” Steve shrugged, knowing that’s where Bucky spent most of his time. He started throwing controlled practice punches at the punching bag in front of him, stopping as he watched Y/N walk towards the door. “Maybe take it easy on him. I know he can annoy you sometimes but, I just think he’s having a bad day.” 

She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as she turned back to face Steve, he really thought she was going to yell at him for not showing up to training. She couldn’t blame him for thinking that, any other day and that's probably exactly what she would’ve done. “Loki was really out of line earlier, I actually just want to make sure Bucky’s okay.” 

Steve smiled proudly at her from where he was taping up his hands, nodding slightly as if he were giving her the ‘go ahead’. There weren’t many people, even living in the compound, that would be willing to go out of their way to make sure Bucky was okay. It was partly his own fault, he was very stand-offish. 

“Come in.” Y/N was surprised when she heard Bucky’s voice call out from beyond the door after she’d knocked. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting a response. 

She opened the door slowly, noticing his neatly kept room with minimal belongings. She looked over Bucky who was standing by the foot of his bed, he was wearing different clothes from earlier. That, his slicked back hair and the scent of peppermint told Y/N that he’d just had a shower. 

“What do you want?” Bucky mumbled bluntly, turning his back to her as he walked over to his desk to grab a newspaper. Y/N shut the door behind her quietly, watching as he glared at her before diverting his eyes away. He rubbed his face in his hand, sighing out of frustration when she didn’t answer. “I said what do you want?” 

“Woah, at ease soldier.” She chuckled lightly, trying to make a joke to calm her nerves. She’d never been in Bucky’s room before. She’d never genuinely asked him about his feelings. She had no clue how he’d react. What if he made fun of her? “So this is why you bailed on our training, huh?” She smiled softly, pointing at the newspaper in his hand. 

“I’m surprised you even noticed I wasn’t there.” Bucky scoffed out spitefully, referring to Loki asking to spend time with her. 

“Of course I noticed.” Y/N frowned in confusion, watching Bucky roll his eyes as he slammed the newspaper back on the table. 

“Why? Because you and your boyfriend didn’t have anyone to make fun of?” Bucky raised his voice, eyes squinting in anger as glared at her from where he stood. “Is that why you’re here now, hm? Didn’t get enough time to piss me off earlier? Or do you just wanna see how far you can push me before I snap?”

“Loki is not my boyfriend.” She screwed her face up, raising her voice to match his as she waved her hands in the air.

“Yeah, well, you suit each other.” Bucky snapped back sarcastically, a deep crease between his eyebrows formed as he frowned. 

Y/N clenched her jaw, a burning heat rising up in her as her anger took control. “I came here to make sure you were okay, asshole!” She yelled furiously back at him, crossing her arms defensively.

“Oh yeah? Since when do you care about me?” Bucky spoke sarcastically, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he crossed his arms and waited for her response.

“Believe it or not, Bucky, some of us do care about you!” She snapped back at his sarcasm, her chest heaving with fury as she watched him immediately jolt off of the wall. “Normal people care about people other than themselves.”

“And I don’t?” His voice lowered drastically, he started walking towards her as if she were his prey. “Why? Because I have no feelings?” He clenched his fists by his sides, watching her press her back against the door as he stalked closer.

“I don’t know! No one knows what goes on in that cyborg brain of yours!” She argued, agrivated that she had tried to do the right thing by coming to see him, but his stubbornness was causing an argument.

“So that’s how you see me, huh? A robot with no emotion? An empty vessel? A killing machine?” Y/N gasped as Bucky’s metal hand tightened around her throat, pushing her head back against the door harshly. Her eyes widened innocently, trying to regain her breath as his face came square with hers. “You don’t know shit about me. About the constant fucking torture inside my head.”

“You didn’t kill those people, Bucky, it was Hydra. I saw the way you looked like a scared little puppy when Loki mentioned the-“

“The what?” Bucky growled huskily, keeping her head in place as his eyes stared into hers. He watched her pupils dialate as he squeezed the sides of her neck with his metal fingers.

His heart had stopped for a moment when she’d told him that Hydra was the one she blamed for what he’d done. He didn’t expect anyone to think that way, especially not her. A wave of emotion flooded through him, not jealously this time, but...what? Whatever it was, it caused butterflies in his tummy.

Bucky felt his cock twitch slightly at the sight of her submitting it him, for once in her life not fighting him. “The winter soldier?” Bucky whispered into her ear, Y/N’s eyes closing as she started to feel her pussy tingle. “Is that what this is all about? You wanna meet him? Wanna see me turn into a monster? Watch the light disappear from my eyes as I fucking destroy you?”

She couldn’t explain why his threats turned her on, all she knew was that she’d never been so aroused in her life. Her chest was heaving as he whispered in her ear, her panties flooding as his metal arm choked her.

The look she gave Bucky sent his head into a spin. She looked so helpless and innocent beneath his hand, but there was a hint of desire in her eyes. She wanted him, she wanted to please him, she wanted him to take whatever he wanted from her.

“You don’t scare me.” She whimpered softly, her lips parting as she tried to breathe. Bucky’s eyes flickered over her lips as an uncontrollable urge to kiss her washed over him.

“Still so mouthy.” He shook his head with a tut, their lips almost touching as he jolted his hand, pushing her head against the wall with more force. She let out a small cry. “You know there are other ways to get attention, baby.”

Y/N’s arousal was soaking through the material covering her crotch, her pebbled nipples rubbing against her sports bra. “Well it’s not my fault you’re always pissing me off.” She whispered bravely, her eyes fixed on his which had grown noticeably darker.

“Oh?” Bucky arched his eyebrow, tilting his head back slightly to assert his dominance. “You don’t like when I wind you up? When I say things to purposely get you to snap?” He leaned his head down, his lips tickling the delicate skin just behind where his fingers finished pressing into her neck. 

Y/N listened closely to his words, realising that Bucky hadn’t been treating her that way because he hated her. He hadn’t been constantly on at her because he didn’t get along with her. In fact, he did it because he knew exactly what she liked. Exactly what kind of interactions she thrived off of. The kind that would always bring her back for more. 

Bucky took her silence as an agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued kissing her neck softly. “I know exactly what gets you going, don’t I?” He continued, finally letting go of her neck as his metal arm trailed down her chest. 

Y/N let out a shaky breath as her throat was now unrestricted, her eyes dropping to where his hand was on her. Bucky’s flesh palm was planted firmly on the wall next to her head, trapping her there. 

“Is that why you’re always so frustrated around me? Hm? Constantly coming back for more?” He kissed her cheek, almost affectionately as he watched her squirm under his touch. “Such a needy little attention whore.” 

She didn’t bite back, her head lifted to lean against the wall, her thighs desperately rubbing together to relieve some of the tension building between her thighs. She liked it.

Bucky chuckled deeply, looking down at where his fingers had dropped to play with the waistband of her exercise leggings. He hooked the tips of his metal fingers inside, entertaining himself as he looked back up at her. “Tell me honestly, baby, whose attention do you crave most?” 

“Yours.” She whimpered desperately, not even taking a moment to think. His lips ghosted over hers, his eyes big and innocent as he brushed their noses together. 

“Not that green goblin who calls himself a god?” Bucky tested as he stepped closer, their bodies touching as his hand pressed against her lower stomach. She whimpered at the feeling of his cold metal fingers on her bare skin, so close to where she needed him most. 

“No.” She submitted to him instantly, shaking her head as Bucky slowly pushed his hand further down into her pants. 

He stopped when he reached the band of her panties, a loud gulp erupted from Y/N’s throat as Bucky teased her even more. “You sure? S’not too late to go running back to him.” 

“No, Bucky, I want you.” She breathed out shakily, almost crying in frustration as Bucky licked his lips, her words were like music to his ears. Her hand came down to rest on his lower tummy, feeling his muscles through the thin material of his t-shirt. 

“Why, Y/N?” He growled as their breaths hit each others lips, she clawed softly at his stomach, overwhelmed with pleasure before he’d even begun. “Tell me why you want me and not him.” 

She felt exhausted, like her body could collapse at any moment. She was in a euphoric state from his light touches and words alone. She looked down at his lips, her eyes half shut as she grabbed hold of his metal wrist, pushing his hand down into her panties. 

Y/N let out a soft moan as his metal fingers slipped between her slick folds, her head hitting the wall with a thud. She looked up at Bucky, watching his eyes fall to where his hand disappeared into her leggings. His brows were furrowed in a frown, his mouth slightly hung open as he slipped his fingers deeper into her. “Because only you make me wet.” 

Bucky lost control, pushing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss as two of his metal fingers slipped into her hole. Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hand flying up to hold the back of his neck, pulling him down harder onto her lips. If only he’d known. If only he’d known that every cocky remark, every teasing comment left her this wet. 

“God, if Id’ve known all it took to shut you up was my fingers in your wet little hole I would’ve fucked you a long time ago.” Bucky chuckled darkly, his words were condescending. He pushed his tongue between her lips, a growl escaping his throat as she sucked on his warm muscle. 

His fingers moved in and out of her aching pussy, his whole hand drenched in her arousal. Y/N whimpered when he curled his fingers inside of her, hitting a spot of pleasure that she didn't know was there. 

“Bucky.” She moaned against his lips, her hips bucking into his hand as his thumb moved to rub her throbbing clit. She tugged on his hair, her arms resting on his shoulders as she steadied herself. 

“You wanna cum, don’t you?” He asked smugly, tilting his head before pressing their lips together sensually. “You wanna cum all over metal hand, you horny little slut.” 

“Yeah.” She whimpered out breathlessly, sucking on his top lip as she rocked her hips against his hand, pushing them further inside of her. “Make me cum, please, Bucky.” 

“I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, you hear me?” Bucky growled into her mouth, biting down on her lip hard enough to hurt. He felt Y/N’s hips rut against his hand again, a smile appearing on his lips as he felt how desperate she was. 

She whimpered, her back arching off of the wall as she rolled her hips toward him. She looked up into his eyes innocently, like he was the only person in the world.

Bucky felt his cock pressing harshly against the material of his track pants, desperate for attention. He watched her bounce on his fingers, her hand moving from his shoulder to pull the tight material of her sports bra over her tits, letting them bounce freely.

Bucky’s eyes darkened at the sight of her boobs, his fingers speeding up inside her tight pussy as he met every movement of her hips. “Fuck yourself on my hand, just like that, make yourself cum.”

Her thighs clenched around his hand, controlling his movements as she clung to his wrist, fucking herself on his hand just like he’d told her to. “Shit, Bucky.”

Y/N clenched rapidly around his metal fingers, his thumb harshly pressed against her sensitive nub as she felt her orgasm taking over.

She leaned in to press her lips against his, hoping to muffle the moans, but Bucky was too fast. He moved his head out of reach, smiling down at her deviously as she came.

Her moans filled the room, her nails digging in to his shoulder as she bucked her hips unrhythmatically into his palm. “Fuck.” She whimpered as she clung to his chest, trying to calm down from the overwhelming sensation.

Bucky pulled his fingers out of her before she could even catch a breath, little moans escaping her lips as she watched him suck his fingers soaked in her juices.

“Shit.” He breathed heavily as he looked down at where his fingers had just been, a noticble wet patch covering the material of her leggings. “You’re so fucking wet, soaked right through your leggings.”

Y/N whimpered in response, tugging his metal hand down to her mouth as she sucked on his fingers. Bucky clenched his jaw as he watched her submissively take his fingers, her soft plump lips wrapping around them.

“Bucky,” she breathed shakily as he pulled his fingers from her mouth to hold her hips. She wrapped her hands around his biceps as she pulled body against hers. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiled darkly at her desperate state, his cock throbbing as he tilted his head to the side. “It’s gunna hurt.” He chuckled, enjoying the thought of impaling her on his cock. 

“Good,” She pouted as she ran her hands down his muscular form, desperate to feel his cock in her hand. “I want it to hurt.”

Bucky immediately caught on to what she was doing, his hands quickly moving to grab her wrists tightly. He skilfully used his strength to spin her around, her exposed chest pressing hard against the wall as he held her hands behind the small of her back.

Y/N let out a small cry, his body pressed tightly against her back. She felt the outline of his cock pressing against her ass cheek as she ground back into him. 

“Don’t you dare try and take control.” Bucky growled deeply, his head dropping as he watched his bulge rub against her. 

Bucky groaned at the feeling, he let go of her wrists, her palms moving to press against the wall. His hands quickly moved to pull the waistband of her leggings and panties down to free her ass. 

He gulped loudly as he watched the wetness pool down onto her panties. Bucky had to stop himself from dropping to his knees and fucking her with his tongue. 

“Come on Bucky,” Y/N whined desperately as she kicked her bottoms off the rest of the way, almost crying out of frustration. “Don’t you wanna fuck the brat out of me?” She turned her head to look at him, biting her lip as she watched him tugging on his cock that he’d pulled out of the confinements of his pants. 

He was huge. Her lips parted in a gasp as she took in the beauty of his cock. She had to stop herself from turning around and sucking him off. Bucky lifted his flesh hand up to her mouth, watching as she obediently licked a strip up his palm with her tongue. 

Bucky looked her almost naked form up and down, moving his wet hand to lubricate his cock as he tugged himself off. “God, you make me so wet, Bucky.” She moaned sensually, spreading her legs a little wider as she felt her juices running down the inside of her thigh. 

He closed his eyes, letting his metal fingers dig into her hip as he positioned himself behind her, lining his tip up with her dripping heat. He bit his lip, forcing his cock into her tight walls as she moaned like a pornstar for him.

“Oh, yes.” She screamed at the feeling of his thick length stretching her pussy. “Fuck, Bucky.” She felt his cock twitch inside of her, encouraging her to moan louder. She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek against the cold wall as she tried to adjust to his monstrous size. 

“Good girl, let everyone know who you belong to.” Bucky moaned as he stilled, fully sheathed inside of her. Her pussy clenched around him, hugging his thick shaft trying to milk him of his cum. 

“You’re so big.” She whimpered submissively, trying to stop her hips from jolting to get used to his cock throbbing inside of her. Bucky could tell that she was already fucked out, his cock was too much for her to take. But for once, she wasn’t answering him back or being a pain in his ass. She was begging him. 

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip as he suddenly began moving his hips in and out of her, the action easy because of how wet she was. He held her hips in place as she cried out, still trying to adjust to his size. Her tits bounced as she lost control of her body, pushing her palm harder against the wall as she steadied herself. 

“No, Bucky, wait.” She whimpered, moving her other hand back to push his hip back, needing a little more time to adjust. A dull ache took over her pussy as he fucked her relentlessly, easily fighting against where her hand was pushing him away. 

“You said you wanted it to hurt.” He growled dominantly, pulling her hips back against his cock as he fucked into her, treating her like his own little sex doll. His cock twitched at the sound of her erotic moans filling the room loudly, a grunt erupting from his lips as he watched his cock disappear into her pussy. 

Her clit throbbed with pleasure, her ass being pulled back harshly against his skin. Slapping sounds grew louder with her pussy still dripping with arousal, his cock easily slipping in and out of her. 

“I do,” She breathed heavily, her head spinning with pleasure as she dropped her hand from his hip, the feeling of needing to help him feel better overwhelming her senses. “Take it all out on me, Buck.” 

His hips didn’t let up, fucking deep into her as he felt a different feeling flow through his body. He looked at the girl in front of him, so ready to help him fuck away his problems. So ready to help him, where most people would’ve run.

Bucky’s heart felt like mush, a moan leaving his lips as Y/N arched her back into his touch. He moved his body forward to press his chest flush against her back, his metal hand pressing into the wall.

He’d pushed his cock deeper into her with the new angle, another loud moan of his name escaping her lips as she leaned her head back against his shoulder.

Bucky felt her pussy clenching around him again, his flesh arm wrapping around her chest to hug her tighter against him. She started circling her hips on his cock, a deep growl came from his chest as he fucked her.

“Did you mean it?” He whispered into her ear, fucking deep inside of her as he made her moan for him. She whimpered softly, her eyes closing in pure bliss as she felt his cock pressing against her cervix. 

She turned her head towards him, her eyes darkened and fucked out as she looked at his face. His stubble scratched her cheek, his eyes glistening in the dull light of the room. He waited for an answer for what seemed like a lifetime, his thrusts getting rougher as he clenched his thighs. 

“Did you mean it?” He repeated the question, feeling his balls slapping against her skin. Y/N looked up into his eyes, noticing the softness in them which wasn’t there before. “Did you mean it when you said you’re not scared of me?”

A warm feeling flooded Y/N’s heart as she saw that look again - the scared puppy look that she’d seen when Loki mentioned the winter soldier. Her chest tightened around itself, the pain in his eyes was so deep it almost hurt her to see. 

“Yes,” She nodded softly, her hand moving to play with his hair as she watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to her lips. “Of course I meant it.” Her eyebrows raised, almost to confirm her sincerity as she pressed her lips to his. 

Bucky sighed in relief as he felt her lips against his, embarrassingly too shy to do it himself. He deepened his thrusts, hugging her body as he fucked up into her. But now it was more than fucking, it was like they were connected on a completely different level. Like they understood each other more than anyone else would ever understand them. Y/N had never seen this side of him before and it was making her fall in love. and that scared her.

She pushed her ass back against him, moaning into the kiss as she felt his cock twitching inside her walls. She knew she was close, her clit tingling at the full feeling of his length fucking her. Bucky knew it too, he felt the way she was squeezing around him. 

He felt an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through his veins, his heart almost beating out of his chest as he slid his cock out of her. Before she could protest, Bucky spun Y/N to face him, his chest heaving as she pressed her hand against his peck. 

“Do you think you could ever love me?” He nudged her nose with his, looking down at the floor as he breathed shakily. Her eyes saddened at his vulnerability, wondering how many times that thought had crossed his mind, thinking the answer was no. “Do you think anyone could ever love me?” 

“God, you’re such a fucking idiot sometimes, Barnes.” She sighed with a sad smile, a little chuckle escaping her lips as Bucky looked up at her eyes in a moment of bravery. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his automatically move to hold her hips. She felt his throbbing cock against her crotch, ignoring the sexual desire as she focused on taking care of his feelings. “Of course I love you.” She admitted shyly, the flush on her cheeks not just from the raw fucking. 

Bucky tried to control the smile from beaming on his face, but he failed miserably. She looked up at the handsome soldier, her heart skipping a beat knowing she was the reason for his happiness. “Why else do you think I constantly bug you? Or instantly forgive you for all the things you do to make me mad, hm?” She played with his hair as Bucky licked his lips, admiring her through hooded eyes. 

She squealed as Bucky suddenly pressed his lips against hers deeply, giggling like a little school girl as he picked her up by her thighs. Bucky’s heart fluttered at the sound of her laughing, her hand cupping his stubble-covered face as she tilted her head into the kiss. 

Bucky turned them around, walking them over to his bed as he flicked his tongue between her parted lips. She moaned into the kiss, feeling herself falling before her back landed on the soft mattress. 

She opened her eyes when Bucky took his lips away, a small pouty smile on her lips as she watched him lifting his shirt over his head. She ran her hand down his bare chest as Bucky threw the material to the floor. 

Y/N took the opportunity to lift her sports bra the rest of the way off, letting it join Bucky’s t-shirt. He sat up between her legs, admiring her now fully naked form as he tugged his tracksuit pants off. 

Bucky hovered back over her, his hands coming to rest either side of her head as he followed her eyes to where his metal arm fused with his skin. He gulped loudly as her hand came up towards the modification, her eyes meeting his to ask for permission. 

Bucky nodded nervously, still in slight disbelief that she hadn’t run away yet. He felt her soft fingers trace the frame of the metal shoulder, following the boarder which connected to his flesh. His heart skipped a beat as she watched a soft smile cover her face, moving her eyes back up to meet his. “It’s so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” He smiled down at her bashfully, moving his hand to grab hold of hers as he leaned down towards her lips. 

“My goodness, did I just hear old man Barnes call me-” 

He cut off her sass with a kiss, a chuckle erupting from both of them as he shook his head. “Don’t ruin the moment.” She scrunched his face up with a smile, looking down at her dotingly. 

“Sorry.” She giggled cheekily, wrapping her thighs around his hips as she pulled him closer. Her nails scratched lightly down his back as she lifted her head to kiss him again. 

Bucky groaned, feeling his cock rub against her pussy lips. A moan escaped Y/N’s lips as she tugged on his hair, feeling his cock pushing back inside her. 

“Fuck.” She let out in a whimper, her eyes big and innocent as she felt him bottom out inside of her. She tilted her head to the side, her other hand holding his chest as she deepened the kiss. 

Bucky started fucking her deep and slow, feeling every clench of her needy pussy. He breathed heavily through his nose, short grunts vibrating in his throat as he twitched inside of her. 

“Y/N,” He moaned deeply, letting their lips brush against each other as her breath tickled his face. “I love you.” He clenched his jaw as he felt his orgasm approaching fast. 

Her tits bounced against his chest, her back arching at the feeling of him filling her sweet cunt with his cock. “I love you, Buck.” She let out with a cry, Bucky’s skin rubbing her throbbing clit as her thighs clenched around his body, a wave of euphoria erupted through her body. 

“Oh, Bucky.” Her hips erratically bucked up to meet his, her pussy pulsing around him as she came. Her nails dug harder into his back, leaving imprints that would at least last a day. 

“Fuck.” Bucky moaned into her neck, his brows furrowing into a frown as he muffled his grunts against her skin. The feeling of her coming on top of him had Bucky’s hands gripping tightly at the bedsheets. “I’m gunna cum.” 

“Bucky,” She whimpered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck soothingly as she hugged him close, rolling her hips onto his. “Can you cum inside me?” 

“You want me to?” He groaned softly, trying to stop himself from cumming so soon, but the feeling of her was too good. 

“Please.” She nodded as Bucky turned his head to look at her, hovering his lips against hers for a second before pressing them against his passionately. He felt his orgasm hit, his hips rutting into her as he filled her with his cum. 

Y/N looked down at where their bodies were connected, watching his cock slide into her overstimulated pussy as he rode out his high. She whimpered softly as she rubbed his shoulder soothingly, his softening cock slipping out of her. 

Bucky looked down too, both watching as his cum dribbled out of her pussy. He smiled proudly before looking back up at her, tracing his finger over her cheek lightly. “Guess the team will be happy that this means our constant bickering will stop.” Bucky chuckled sweetly, looking down at her face. 

“What does this mean?” She prodded him lightly with her finger, smiling up at him as she admired his gorgeous eyes. 

“It means you’re my girl.” He mumbled before kissing her lips softly. 

“Do I get a say in this at all?” She faked a shocked look and giggled in amusement, watching the cheeky smile appear on his face. 

Bucky shook his head before kissing her again. “No.” He smiled softly, the feeling of pure happiness making him kiss her over and over.

“Okay, fine, I’ll be your girl.” She let out a fake sigh of exasperation, her heart thudding against her chest like she’d never felt before. “But I just have one question.” 

“Okay.” Bucky dragged out the word suspiciously, sitting up on his knees as he rubbed the tops of her thighs. 

“Do you honestly think me being your girlfriend means I’m not gunna still constantly annoy the shit out of you?” She let out lowly with a smirk, watching Bucky groan dramatically as he dropped down next to her on the bed, a huge smile on his face.

He knew she was right, but he didn't mind at all. In fact, he never minded before anyway.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

[tomhsource]

desire - t.h.

pairing → tom x fem!reader

summary → you’ve always hated your co-star until one day, he looks so god damn good that you just can’t help yourself. 

warnings → smut (18+), MINORS DNI. swearing. smut warnings below!

word count → 2k

a/n → please let me know if you would like a part two! this was from a request that i got - ‘could you write something with reader always hating tom until one day he has her begging him to fuck her and he's being all cocky?’. please feel free to send more request in! gif not mine.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*

smut warnings → fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, begging, lots of dom!tom.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*

had you known that working with tom was going to be the biggest mistake of your life, you’d have never taken the job. no matter how great the pay was, you’d never hated somebody as much as you hated him. the way he sauntered around, always acting as if he owned the room wherever he went, caused an anger to bubble up in your chest. who the hell did he think he was? it didn’t help that everyone else thought he was so charming, every interviewer you came across gushing about how amazing he was, adding to his ever-growing ego. you really hate him, but something about him today has you torn.

tom is watching you from across the room, his eyes flicking between you and the current interviewer, an expression of vague interest planted firmly across his face so as to not come off as rude, but whenever you catch his gaze, a twinkle glints in his eye.

a fire is rising inside of you. whether it’s burning hatred or a darker desire, you aren’t sure. all you know is that you can’t take your eyes off of him either. he looks so god damn good today, his brown curls ruffled atop his head, as if he’s just rolled out of bed but somehow still perfectly styled. the red patterned shirt he wears hangs from his body, not giving much away, and you find yourself craving his body, to find out what he’s hiding under there. his pants are clinging to his legs, almost a little too snug, and the way he rests his chin on his hand against the arm of his chair, his fingers ever so close to his lips, drawing attention to them, makes you wonder what it would be like to kiss him…

you reach the end of the interview, barely saying a word, too distracted to give a more detailed account of your memories of set, or your favourite scene that you couldn’t wait for the fans to see. every answer had been brief, your every thought invaded with images of tom, until the interview is over.

you thank the interviewer, heading over to a catering table for a bottle of water, watching tom as he crosses the room and makes his way to the door, probably heading for his dressing room. your mind wanders for a moment - what if you went after him? images flash in your mind of what he could do to you... no, you’re being ridiculous, you hate each other. still, you find your feet moving towards the door to follow him, faster than your rational mind can keep up. by the time you reach him, the door is closed and you hesitate for a moment. 

before you can walk away, the door swings open again and tom almost walks into you, not expecting you to be on the other side of his dressing room door. his lips twist into a smirk and he clicks his tongue, “oh, can i help you?” he leans against the door frame. 

“no,” you’re quick to respond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you need anything from him. 

“really? looks like you’re all worked up about something?” you can hear the cockiness in his voice and you want to punch him for being so smug. he knows what he’s done to you, knows exactly how he’s managed to make you feel about him. 

“god, you’re such an asshole,” you groan, but push him back into his dressing room nonetheless. 

“don’t know what you mean...” he trails off, walking away from you to lean against a table, picking a few grapes from the fruit bowl that sits on top of it. you slam the door shut and turn to face him.

“please, all those looks you were giving me during that last interview?” you challenge and he chuckles, looking down to his feet and back up at you. “what, was that your way of flirting?” 

“oh love, if i was flirting with you, you’d know about it.” 

you stand there in silence for a moment, the two of you staring at each other from opposite sides of the room. 

“try me.”

his eyes darken at the dare and your breathing quickens as he takes steps towards you, painfully slowly. you don’t have chance to think, backing up against the door until you’re cornered, tom’s body inches from yours, his hands either side of your head, resting on the wall behind you. 

“look at you,” he smirks, his voice barely a whisper. “haven’t even done anything and you’re already shaking.” 

“m’not,” you try to argue but your body says otherwise, your chest rising and falling rapidly, a heat radiating off of you. tom is close enough that you can smell the cologne on his neck, the mint on his breath. 

“not true darling,” one of his hands lets go of the wall to trail his fingers down your arm, making you shudder. “you’ve only gotta tell me what you want and we can forget all this nonsense.”

you close your eyes and gulp; this cannot be happening. your mind is telling you to stop this now, before it goes too far, but the tingles in your stomach and the ache between your legs is telling you different. 

“what do you want?” his lips brush against yours, he’s so close now, “tell me baby.”

“you,” your voice is barely audible and tom lets out a scoff.

“didn’t catch that,” his hand is on your waist now, tugging you in closer.

“for fuck sake, you, okay? i need you,” the last words come out as a whisper, your confidence faltering when you look up into those deep brown eyes. 

in seconds, his lips come crashing down on yours and he’s kissing you, messy and uncoordinated. the lust that has been building throughout the day means you’re both far too eager as his hands roam your back, the dress that you’re wearing exposing the bare skin. small moans escape you as his hands trail down to your ass, squeezing as he pulls you in closer. your own hands tug at the hair in the nape of his neck, pulling him away from you.

“this doesn’t change anything, okay?” 

“mm, just scratching an itch,” he agrees before he pounces back on you, his lips attacking your neck now and you’re pulling at the hem of his shirt. faster than unbuttoning it, tom pulls at it from behind his neck, effortlessly sliding out of it, throwing it into a crumpled ball in the corner. 

as he continues to kiss you, you flick off the straps of your dress, wriggling out of it without pulling away from him and when tom realises you’re standing before him in your bra and panties, he groans against your lips, “fuck.”

“you gonna stand there staring all day or you gonna get to work holland?”

he stares at you for a moment and shakes his head, not quite believing this new side of you.

“who put you in charge, huh?” he tugs at your thigh, lifting your leg up around his waist. you’re just about losing yourself in him when he pulls you backwards, dragging you down on top of him as he falls back into the armchair in the corner. you continue making out, your hips grinding down into him and you can feel how hard he’s getting from the friction, though he’s doing nothing to move things along.

“tom,” you whine his name against his lips, “i wanna feel you.” your words are all it takes for him to slide his hands up your thighs, fingers lightly trailing the insides before he slips his hand beneath you, making you gasp. “gotta make sure you’re nice and wet for me first darling.”

he pushes your panties to the side, one finger sliding between your folds, “well that didn’t take long, did it?” he whispers in your ear before his teeth playfully pull at the lobe.

“more,” you breath out, facing up to the ceiling so that your chest is pushed out towards him.

“say please,” he growls.

“please-” your pleas are cut off by the gasp that rips from your throat as tom adds a second finger, pushing the two inside you now, his thumb pressed up against your clit.

you’re a mess, moans and curses tumbling from your lips, getting louder each time he pulls his fingers away and thrusts them back in. his free hand snakes up to your neck, squeezing lightly to quieten you down, “you tryna get us caught princess?”

you shake your head no and remember that there’s a whole lot of people on the opposite side of the door, waiting to prep you for your next interview, and you attempt to choke back the sounds escaping you.

“take your panties off,” he grunts in your ear and you stand to wriggle them off but tom grabs your wrist, “keep the heels on.”

you nod and do as he says, standing in front of him, awaiting his next instruction. tom pats his thigh and you spread your legs, attempting to resume your previous position, draped over his lap but he stops you, “just the one sweetheart.”

you’re confused for a second before the lightbulb moment hits and you raise your eyebrows at him, “seriously?”

“d’you wanna come or not?” he’s daring you to disobey.

“but your pants-” you start to object and you can tell he’s getting more and more impatient so you continue, “but there’s always the wardrobe department for that.”

you lower yourself down over one leg, your heat colliding with the rough material of his pants. your eyes flutter at the sensation as you begin to rock your hips back and forth, and tom begins to kiss you again, his hands guiding your hips.

it feels amazing, grinding down against his muscular thigh, and with tom’s thumb rubbing circles into your clit, adding to the pleasure, you’re inching closer and closer to your high.

“that’s it,” tom coos, encouraging you to fall apart, “you gonna come all over my thigh like the dirty girl i know you are?”

“yes,” you choke out, your fingers squeezing tom’s free hand tightly as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach.

“say it,” he demands.

“fuck- tom- i’m gonna come, i’m- i’m coming,” you whine loudly, not giving a damn who can hear you right now. your orgasm hits, waves of pleasure washing over you, over and over again as tom continues to flick his thumb over that little bundle of nerves until you’re quivering.

your hips still, panting with your body slumped against his chest, you try to catch your breath and calm down. before you can even begin to think clearly, there’s a knock at the door, “three minutes tom, you ready?”

your eyes widen and you look up at tom who wears a similar expression of ‘oh shit’. you quickly climb out of his lap, rushing to grab your clothes as tom wriggles out of his pants, hastening to find a clean pair that isn’t stained with your slick.

“where the hell are my-” you look up to see tom holding up your panties but when you try to grab them, you pulls his hand back and stuffs them into the pocket of his fresh pants. “if you want them back, you’re gonna have to come back for round two tonight,” he says with a smirk.

“and that,” you motion towards the obvious bulge in his pants, your eyebrow raised, “how are you gonna hide that?” 

tom looks down and cocks his head to the side with a shrug, “i’ve got two minutes,” he winks. “see you out there,” you shake your head, stifling a laugh.

heading for the door, you take one glance back at tom who is already unbuckling his belt to alleviate his problem, before heading out to prep for your next interview.

[shadowhuntresso]

Stressfull days with a (demi) god

Rain x fem!Mortal!reader

Warning: 18+,smut

It was a normal, borring day in Outworld. You are working in a small buissnes to earn your money. You denied the money your boyfriend offered you, after all, you're royalty now your don't need to work. You can be lucky dating an (demi) god like rain, as he always says. Rain dosen't like the idea that his future queen his making her hands dirty. Your hands should be wrabbed in the most expensive and finest silk he can buy. It's actually pritty cute how he carries you on his hands. Like today, Rain noticed rather quickly how tense you were. Groaning the whole time and holding your back, this can't be healthy for an Mortal, he thinks. Even though Rain is not known for being a gentel or carring persona, he goes all in on you, expecally today. Lighting some candels and making the bed plus holding some massage oil ready he waits for you to arrive in your chared bedroom. ''hello my little cloud",Rain says and aproches you. You came just out of the shower, a fluffy towel is covering your devine body and hugs perfectly around your waist. You chuckle at the nickname and lean against him once he stood infront of you "hello Rain", you sight, his smell never fails to comfort you. Rain smells like blueberry (most likely his shampoo). You took a deep breath and hide your face against his neck. A chuckle escapes Rain and he pulls you in closer "May I touch your body love?", his voice sending chills down your spine you nod, this is going to be interesting. Rain rarely gets intimate with you due to him being very stressed. You took every oportunity you can get to get this man to ruin you, you are unhealthy addicted to his dick, even thinking about it makes your mouth water. Lost in thoughts you don't notice as he picks you up and lies you carefully down on the kingsized bed. The feeling of the fluffy pillows against your head and neck gets you back to reality. "What do you plan to do?", you asks, blushing a little as Rain starts to undress himself slowly "What do you wish me to do?", Rain raises amused an eyebrow, now standing just in his underwear infront of you and turning you on your stomach. "Just touch me please", you almost whisper, it was very clear to him how much you crave him right now. Taking the towel from your body and throwing it behind him, Rain runs hims hands up and down your back, sitting on your lower back. "I saw the look you just gave me, y/n", it almost sounded like a threat, is he pissed off? Was he not planing on taking you? Thoughts like these are drowing your brain and make you silent. Rains voice broke the silent as it apears close next to your ear "If you only would know what I'm planing on doing to you. Every other god would be ashamed on this",this was a promise and a threat. A promise that oh yes, tomorrow you need to call in sick, this (demi) god will defenetly ruin you and a threat that he feels very dominant today. This was too much temtaiton not to opey. Your mind wanted to test him, bringing him to his limits this wouldn't end good, you actually did this at the beginning of your intimacy. Rain chuckls and starts massaging your back with some fancy oil, it smelled really good, making your hormons going crazy, you're pritty sure Rain can smell the head inbetween your thights and he did. It made him crazy, he thought about the taste, god it was too long ago since he ate you out like a meal. Almost growling he cleared his throat, he dosen't allow you to know what effect you have on him, how would that look? Edinian (demi) god gets hard by an mortal so easly, this would get him teased not just by you, but by almost everyone. He can't resist you anymore by now, his dick is half hardend but his desire is burning, the way your skin is feeling under him makes him crazy.

Rain suddently stops and lays down next to you "let me taste you darling" almost out of breath he whispers, pulling you on his face. This is new, but not unpleasent, the way his tounge plays you and his hands grabbing and digging into the skin of your thights has you screaming. Rain is a very talented lover, secretly a natural pleaser, but of course no one knows. Moaning his name you came, hard on his tounge. "Where did that came from Rain?", you asks, panting and holding yourself against the headboard of the bed, your legs are shaking, he defently knows how to play your body. It was almost emberrasing how fast he can make you cum.

Knowing him you knew, this man was not done with you. Rain carefully placed you next to him and climes ontop of you, trapping you with his arms on the bed. No words are needed to know for the both of you what comes next. Freeing himself from his underwear he stroaks his dick a few times. You spread your legs, salvia and your own cum are running down from your entrance, this is a big turn on for him, either his cum or saliva or both running down your legs, marking you makes him proud and actually turns him on. Rain looks you in the eyes as he enters you, god he is big. The way he streches you makes you sigh in pleasure, he touches every spot inside you, it is addicting. Moving, Rain is feeling nothing but pleasure, he likes to say you are perfectly shaped inside for his dick. You two are moaning and touching each other. Silently praising his body you kisses his chest, running your hands over it and scratching his back. "God I...you...this feels so good Rain", you try to say, to form a normal sentence his hard with Rain now raming inside you, abusing your sweet spot with his dick. "You feel so amazing araound me" Rain whispers, trying to hold back a moan. Rain moves his upper body up, gripping the headboard of the bed and starts to roughly fuck you now. Panting and groaning he looks down at you. You can see his muscels tense with every deep thrusts he make, flexing and moving. This is when you now notice a familiar feeling inside you "shit...Rain I'm gonna cum", you warned him. That's when you look up into his face, this is was throws you over the egde. Eyes half closed, mouth a little partend, sweat forming on his forhead, pink cheeks and pants coming from his throat. Feeling you cuming he licks his lips, closes his eyes and chuckls "You can't resists me that I even make you cum by just looking at you", it amuses him how he turns you on just to cum himself deep inside you "fuck..", a rather loud moan escapes his lips and he holds still. His warm seed his filling you compleatly, running down to your ass. Rain lays next to you after taking himself out of you and pulls you close "I think I need to take you again in a few minutes", he chuckls. "And why is that?" you giggled not knowing what fate will take you. Turning you back around he pulls your ass against his pelvis and your upper body into the bed "I can't resist you".

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [2/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: it seems this may be a little bit of a slow burn, based on the pacing and where I am in chapter three right now... Enjoy!

You woke up to the sound of metal clanging together, an unpleasant alarm if you’d ever heard one. “Get up, get dressed, and be in the training room in two minutes,” Four said, banging the metal together one last time before leaving the room. 

Everyone scrambled to get dressed in their new black Dauntless clothes, and as people entered the training area, they began to form a semicircle around Four and Eric. “Ok, let’s get started,” Four said, clapping his hands together. “There are two stages of training. The first is physical, you will push your bodies to the breaking point and you will master the methods of combat. The second is mental, again breaking point. You’ll face your worst fears and conquer them--unless they get you first. You’ll be trained separately from the Dauntless-born, but you’ll be ranked together. After initiations, rankings will determine what jobs you move into: leadership, guarding the fence, or keeping the factionless from killing each other.”

“The rankings will also determine who gets cut,” Eric cut in, rising from where he sat on a concrete slab. An uneasy whisper spread throughout the initiates. No one knew about this, and you had to admit, you were getting a bit nervous yourself. “At the end of each stage of training, the lowest-ranking initiates will be leaving us,” Eric continued. 

“To do what?” asked Al.

“Well, you can’t go home to your families, so you’ll be factionless.”

Another wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd of initiates, but it was quickly silenced by Eric’s glare. “Someone should have told us,” Christina said.

“Why? Would you have chosen differently? Out of fear?” Eric replied challengingly. “I mean, if that’s the case, you might as well get out now. If you’re really one of us, it won’t matter to you that you might fail, alright? You chose us. Now, we get to choose you.” Eric looked at each initiate, his blue eyes challenging each person to look away. Some people did, others didn’t. You didn’t. 

Instead, you held his intense gaze as the itch to prove others wrong that had been inside you since the day you were born rose up, ready to be set free. What Eric said was scary, but it didn’t matter--all your years of studying the faction system told you that they would try to scare the initiates, and while you hadn’t expected this, you had known it wouldn’t be easy. But you had worked your ass off for years to be top of the class in Erudite, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to do the same here, in your new faction. 

--

“Everyone, get some water before we move into the next segment of training,” Four called out. It took everything in you not to bend over as some others were doing; you knew standing up straight, getting fresh air in your lungs, would make the cramp in your abdomen go away faster, even if it hurt more now. 

“Tris, stand up straight,” you whispered to your friend, who was red-faced after running twenty laps around the room, which was everyone’s warm-up for the day. 

“Just so you know, tomorrow we won’t just be running laps,” Four said, surveying all the tired initiates. “So get used to this.” 

You sighed, mentally thanking yourself for joining a small workout group in Erudite. It was fairly new, and it was only created because studies showed that after some physical activity, the brain was better equipped to come back to problems it struggled with earlier and continue working whereas remaining stagnant was more likely to result in burnout and fatigue. The workouts were nothing like this, but you were still appreciative of them.

“Alright, everyone find a punching bag and start hitting. Eric and I will be walking around correcting your form, but it’s on you to put our advice into practice. Go,” Four announced after barely even a minute of the “break” had gone by. 

Turning on your heel, you walked over to the nearest punching bag and lined yourself up. Feet spread evenly about as wide as your shoulders, then step the left foot forward just a bit. Knees bent slightly, fists raised high. Then, you get to punching. 

After what felt like an hour of hearing Four quietly critiquing other students between Eric’s shouts of disappointment at other initiates, the two trainers finally got to your area of the training room. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Four walking up to Tris, slightly adjusting her position and giving helpful tips. Another set of footsteps came to a stop behind you, which meant Eric would be the one helping you. Your shoulders tensed for a moment, but you quickly forced yourself into a more relaxed position and continued punching. Just pretend he isn’t there, you told yourself. After hitting the punching bag six times, called out “Stop” from behind you. He walked over to your side and took a fighting stance. “Make sure your hips are square, like this, so when you throw a punch with the hand that is further back, you can twist your hips and use core strength to put more power into it,” he said stoically, and you did your best to mimic his stance. “No, like this,” he said, grabbing your hips and twisting them, holding you firmly in place for a second before letting go. “Try it now,” he said. You started throwing punches again, and he nodded before silently walking away. When you paused to readjust your stance, you heard Eric yell “Did I say you could stop, Y/N? No, I did not; keep going!” You took a deep breath and began the next onslaught of punches as the room fell quiet save for the sound of fists hitting punching bags, a rhythmic thumping sound. 

“First jumper!” Eric called out, disrupting the steady beat and sense of calmness in the room. “In the ring.” Beside him, Four sighed and looked down at his feet, and you had a bad feeling about whatever was about to happen. “Last jumper,” he continued, looking at a girl with dark hair--you think you may have heard her friends call her Molly, but you aren’t entirely sure. “Time to fight.”

Tris and the girl stepped up to the ring. “How long do we fight for?” the girl asked.

“Until one of you can’t continue,” Eric said in response. 

“Or one of you concedes,” Four interjected, stepping forward. 

“According to the old rules,” Eric corrected. “With the new rules, no one concedes.”

“You really want to lose someone in their first fight?”

“Well, a brave man never surrenders.” 

“Lucky for you, those weren’t the rules when we fought.”

Eric clenched his jaw, irritated, before saying “You’ll be scored on this, so fight hard.” Tris and the other girl squared up and began to circle each other, but Eric was getting impatient. “Go!” he barked. 

After nearly falling off the mat, Tris lunged, but the other girl dodged, twisted, and retaliated with a swing of her own, landing a punch to Tris’ face. As Tris retreated, the other girl pressed her advantage, catching Tris’ waist, bending her over, and punching her stomach a few times before Tris managed to break free of her hold. Just as she reached the end of the mat and turned, Tris was met with another punch to the face, sending her to the floor. The other girl--Molly--glanced at Eric since Tris was down, and he nodded, signaling Molly to send one last blow Tris’ way, knocking her out. As you watched the fight, you felt bad for your friend; she was much smaller than Molly, and part of you wanted to speak up about the cruelty that the trainers were showing, but you shoved it down. There was no need to compromise your position right now. 

“Next,” Eric yelled, pointing to a girl named Selene and a former Candor named Peter who had made fun of Tris, calling her a Stiff several times. You secretly hoped Selene would kick his ass, but it was unlikely, he was tall and strong, plus he was willing to fight dirty--he’d admitted as much in the dorm area. Guess he still couldn’t keep his mouth shut, even though he’d left Candor.

Selene was tough; what she lacked in strength she made up for in endurance, but after a few rounds of dodging Peter’s punches, he finally landed one to her solar plexus, stunning her, allowing him to sweep her legs out from underneath her and kick her as she lay on the ground. You clenched your jaw as he did so, feeling anger rise up inside of you. Selene was unable to fight, that was the stopping point of the fights, but Peter was still kicking her. And Eric, the emotionless person that he was, didn’t do anything. 

“Peter,” you said, “stop it.” Peter turned towards you and smirked.

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” he taunted. You considered for a second before turning to Eric. 

Looking up at him, you steeled yourself. “I know we don’t get to determine the fighting order, or who we fight, but I would like to fight Peter. Now,” you said, sure to keep your voice level and maintain eye contact with the leader. 

He raised an eyebrow at you curiously, and thankfully, Peter had stopped kicking Selene when you started speaking to Eric. Selene scooted to the edge of the mat, but that was as far as she could move without assistance. “You two,” Eric yelled at two initiates, “help Four get this one,” he pointed at Selene, “to the infirmary.” Then he turned back to you. “What are you waiting for, initiate? Get up there.” For a moment you were stunned, you didn’t actually think you would end up fighting Peter, and you knew that both Eric and Peter were expecting you to lose quickly. You caught Four’s eye as he carried Selene out with the help of two initiates, and you looked around to see Christina, Tris, Will, Al, Edward, Molly, and a few other initiates staring at you like you were mad. Maybe you were, but it was too late to back out now. You stood in a low, sturdy fighting stance, just like Eric had shown you. Peter did the same. For a moment, the room was dead silent as your eyes locked with his, and then both of you whipped into action. 

Peter went right for the face punch, but you quickly blocked upward and threw a low roundhouse kick at his knee, making him wobble. He recovered quickly, and he quickly used his height to his advantage, moving to grab your shoulder and slam you into the ground. You were smart though, and you let him move you slightly before turning the downwards motion into momentum that allowed you to do a somersault, twisting his arm and landing on your feet. As he was turning around to face you, you sent a snap kick right to the back of his knee, making it buckle. You moved quickly to his other side, ready to send a few punches to his face and knock him out, but he sprung forward, wrapping strong hands around your neck and squeezing. For a moment you panicked, hitting his arms, but they didn’t move. Everyone was sure that was it for you, but you had another trick up your sleeve--Peter was overly confident this would weaken you and in the process of squeezing, he had left his own body defenseless. So you kicked him in the groin. Hard. He called out and released you, and as he leaned over in an instinctual reaction to pain, you kicked his forehead with your knee, shoved him to the side, knocking him over, and kicked him again, this time in the solar plexus. You stood there, stone-faced, and when Peter didn’t make a move to fight back, you turned to Eric, who nodded, and you jumped down from the mat. 

You landed next to Will, Tris, and Christina, all of whom were staring at you in a mixture of horror and admiration. You blushed in embarrassment and looked at the ground, thinking to yourself, What the hell did I just do? You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize the next two initiates were on the mat and fighting, and you only came back to yourself when Eric yyelled, “Hey! Are you deaf, initiate? I said go grab some ice for your neck, I don’t want to hear complaints about it tomorrow!” 

You nodded to your friends and said “I’ll be back in a minute,” shocked at how hoarse your voice was. “Just going to… yeah,” you trailed off before walking quickly towards the infirmary. 

A/N: can you tell I love writing fight scenes? also I do martial arts and have played sports my whole life, so I love when I get to use my knowledge of anatomy and physiology two write action scenes :)

Tag List: @shykoolaid

[slasherbaby]

Call Me [read on ao3 or under the cut! ♡]

Pairing: Danny Johnson x Trans Masc reader (he/him pronouns)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, very mild breeding kink, knifeplay, cock/cunt used to describe the reader’s junk

Length: 4676 words

“Fuck,” Danny grunted into the phone, his voice low and forced. From sound alone, you can tell how he’s holding himself. It doesn’t take much imagination to envision the way his jaw strained, his eyebrows pulled down in the middle. “Wanna slide right into that cunt, fuck. Know you’d be so wet, such a fucking slut for me.”

Historically speaking, you’ve never been into dirty talk. It always sounded stiff, the guy talking to you usually too unsure of himself to sound even remotely sexy. But god, did it feel different with Danny. His deep voice, the rough edge around each syllable, and the naturally monotone way he spoke has always been enough to drive you crazy, ever since the first ‘hello.’

“Maybe I’d suck on that pretty fucking cock too, gotta make sure my baby’s nice and hard before I fuck him, right?”

It’s easy to picture how he’d look, looking up at you with his dark, dilated eyes. Holding your gaze as he worked your cock in his mouth. You bite down on your lower lip, stifling a groan at the sparks of pain that follow.

The laugh that comes through the receiver is rough and hoarse, sending a shiver of delight up your spine. “Don’t hide from me, angel. I already know how much of a whore you are,” Another laugh rasps through. “Everyone knows how you act at the bar after a few drinks, fucking brat. Drooling for attention, dancing around like you’re asking for it. Giving a show to everyone.”

“Yours,” You gasp, your voice just a touch away from sounding desperate. It’s the truth, afterall, but Danny already knows it. You both know that he’s the only one you’d let touch you, the only one you want to touch you. “Just yours.”

“And don’t fucking forget it.” Danny’s voice drops into a growl, making you whimper. “I’m the only one who gets you like this. You’re fucking mine, baby. Mine and mine alone.”

Another gasp falls from your lips, nodding your head even though you know he can’t see. Your cock is hard and aching, but you move your fingers away from where you’ve been circling it, going lower and lower until you reach your entrance.

“Danny…” You groan, squeezing your eyes shut as you wait for him to keep talking, to keep bringing you closer to the edge.

“You’ve got no idea how crazy it makes me to see how people look at you. Makes me wanna put a collar on you, fucking let everyone know who you belong to.” There’s a grunt from the other side of the phone, slick noises punctuating every breath Danny takes. “Or maybe the next time you wanna act like a whore, I’ll make you wear that little red dress in your closet. You know the one, don’t you?”

You groan out a noise of confirmation, chest swelling up when he hums in approval.

“I’ll bring you out to Walleyes with me after work, and I’ll fuck you in the bathroom. I know how dirty sluts like you want it, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to fill you up real good before sending you off to dance. Without your panties, of course. Gotta see if you can keep my come in without it dripping out. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know I would. Letting everyone know how fucking good I breed my baby.”

Your hole clenches around nothing, desperately seeking out something to fill it as Danny spews filth into your ear. Pretending it’s Danny, you slowly push in a single digit. It’s not nearly enough to satisfy, but that’s nothing you aren’t used to.

Adding another finger gives you a bit of a stretch, but it pales in comparison to how Danny’s fingers would feel. His hand dwarfs yours, his fingers long and thick and perfect for curling up at just the right angle.

“S’not enough.” You groan as you thrust into yourself, but it’s hardly a groan of pleasure.

“What’s not enough?”

“My fingers, it’s-” Another groan comes from your lips, but this time it’s filled with frustration. You’ve been pent up all day, even though you just saw Danny the night before. And yet you still can’t satisfy yourself. Not by yourself, anyway.

You know you could come in a matter of minutes if you really wanted to. From your fingers pressed against your cock. It’s how you usually get off, rubbing one out quickly. Rarely do you try and fuck yourself, only dipping down to collect some of your wet and use it to make your cock nice and slick to finish yourself off.

But those orgasms are bland. Fun, of course, but not what you really want. You want the thigh shaking, eye rolling, screaming orgasm that you know can only come from being properly fucked.

Little tears of frustration well up in your eyes as you adjust your hips, trying and failing to find a better angle. “It’s just not enough.”

“Baby,” Danny coos mockingly, his deep voice vibrating through the phone. “You don’t have anything else to fill you up? No toys?”

Your first instinct is to snap back at him, but you refrain, biting down on your tongue instead. It’s embarrassing, how needy you feel. But your desire’s rolling off of you in waves of heat, and it’s a thirst you can’t quench on your own.

“Don’t make fun of me,” You mumble, pressing the side of your face into your pillow. “S’not my fault…”

“Are you pouting?” Danny’s voice is a shade away from being more condescending than you can bear, his tone unlawfully sweet. You can tell he’s talking through a grin. “Fucking yourself while pouting? Fuck, angel. You’re too much.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence, but it’s not from the way you're grinding your hips. The lump in your throat and the tears in your eyes don’t do anything but make you feel stupid, so fucking stupid that a part of you wants to hang up right then and there. As delicious as his voice is, you crave your boyfriend’s touch more than phone sex.

“Darling, are you crying?”

You sniffle, shaking your head. You’re too far gone, too lost in your head to realize he won’t be able to see you. After a moment, you hear Danny chuckle. It’s too much, your face is burning something fierce and you can’t handle anymore embarrassment. With a click, you hang up the phone, pulling your fingers out of yourself and cramming your face properly into the pillow.

A minute passes in silence, before you hear the sound of your phone trilling next to you. You pick it up before it can get to the second ring, fully ready to apologize for acting like such a baby. It was supposed to be a sexy thing, not something so dramatic.

“Danny?”

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

You roll over, facing the ceiling with a pinched expression. “I-“

“I’ll be over in thirty.”

“Minutes?” You sit completely upright, clutching onto your phone like a vice.

“Be ready for me, Angel. ”

Your heart jolts in your chest when the line cuts out, and you immediately drop your phone back onto the receiver. You slap your hand over your face, covering up the grin that’s started to grow.

You didn’t expect Danny to be so… down? Especially so late at night, when he has work in the morning, nonetheless. Jumping off the bed, you rush to your dresser, grabbing the folded robe on top of it.

You slip your arms through the sleeves before turning to face the mirror, eyes darting across your body. It’s a simple little thing, something vintage and pretty that caught your eye when you were shopping for clothes a while back. It’s light blue, made from silky satin that hardly reaches your upper thighs and delicate white lace that kisses the hem of the fabric. You tie the robe shut at the small of your waist, looping the sash into a messy bow at the front.

There’s a knock at your door the second you finish looking yourself over, making you nearly jump out of your skin in surprise. You leave your bedroom in a rush, but as you pass by the living room to get to the front door, you pause. Licking your lips, you shoot a glance towards the grandfather clock. Hardly five minutes had passed since he called you.

There was no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place that fast. The excitement in your chest pops, deflating like a sad balloon as you approach the front door, leaning forward with your hands against the wood. When you look through the keyhole, you frown. There’s no one in sight.

“Probably just kids messing around…” You murmur, fiddling with sash at your waist.

But before you can turn away from the door, something leather slams over your mouth, and your cheek is being shoved up against the wood. You try to kick back at whoever grabbed you, but it’s no use. They have an iron grip, and all fighting back gets you is their front shoved against your back, holding you tight against the front door.

You can’t move your hands with the way they’ve been trapped between your body and the door, no matter how hard you struggle against it. They release your mouth, but you’re still too stunned to speak. It’s only then, when you feel the sharp end of a blade press against your thigh, that you realize how vulnerable you are.

“My boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute now.” You grit out as they put the tip of their knife against your sensitive inner thigh. They press hard, hard enough to break skin if you don’t open your legs wider, so you’re forced to move with it. “He’s big and tall and he’ll-“ You’re breath hitches as the person behind you trails the knife up, getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. “He’s a scary motherfucker and he’ll fucking kill you if you touch me!” Your voice breaks as you shout, and to your surprise, the person actually pulls the knife away.

The chuckle that comes next, low and familiar, surprises you as well.

“A ‘scary motherfucker’?” It’s Danny’s voice that greets you, his lips kissing the shell of your ear as he speaks. “Hmm. I guess I am.”

“Danny,” You breathe out, the fear leaving your body like a tidal wave. “What the fuck are you-“

One of his gloved hands cuts you off again before you can finish your sentence, pressing tight against your mouth. His other hand slides eagerly between your legs, slipping inside you without warning.

“You know I don’t like being hung up on.” His voice was far from what you were familiar with, low and grating in your ear. The laugh that follows it equally as foreign. “Ha… should’ve know that you’d get wet from that, fucking slut.”

Like you’re any better, you try to growl, but the leather trapping your mouth makes it impossible to speak, your words coming out in muffled irritation instead.

He laughs, kicking your legs further apart with one of his heavy boots. With a slick sound that makes you blush, he removes his fingers from your slit.

The zipper on his pants hardly makes a noise as he frees himself, but it’s enough to make you press back against him by instinct alone. He moves his hand away from your mouth, pressing his palm against your upper back instead, keeping you pinned to the wall.

You gasp out- something warm and hard pressing up against your entrance. He laughs as he slots his cock between your thighs, right up against your sex, dragging the head along your hardness.

“Danny,” You moan, arching your back and wiggling your hips, hoping to angle it just enough so that he slips inside of you. He’s never taken you like this before, even though you know he’s wanted to, and the rush of it nearly makes your head spin.

“Hmm?” He asks, voice terribly calm for the situation. “What is it? Do you wanna stop?” And just as easily as he started, he pulls back. Grunting a bit before the zipper on his pants is pulled back up. “C’mere.”

You want to cry all over again, so desperately close to getting what you need and yet so far all the same.

“I didn’t mean sto-“

You cut yourself off with a noise of surprise as he grabs you by the hair, pulling you around harshly and forcing you to face him. After he lets go, he takes a few steps back, leather boots thudding heavy against the wooden floor.

You open your mouth, but whatever words you want to say die on your tongue as he reaches out, touching your cheek. The back of his knuckles brush delicately against your cheekbone.

Your stomach does somersaults as he looks you over, taking your body in full. His hand moves down, tracing the outline of your waist through the robe. You can hardly feel his touch, but it makes you shiver all the same.

“I must be the luckiest guy,” Danny murmurs as he takes hold of the end of the bow tying your robe together, slowly pulling it until it comes undone. He lets your robe fall open, the night air cool on your front, and slips his hand inside the fabric to stroke your hip. “To have such a pretty baby.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the praise, but Danny doesn’t let it slide. He takes you by the chin, the pad of his gloved thumb stroking the skin under your lower lip.

“You know that, right?” He nods your head for you, gently tilting your head up and down. You open your eyes, brows slightly furrowed, only to meet his smile. “There we go, pretty thing. Always so ready for me… Always so good…”

You push up on your tiptoes, pressing yourself further into Danny’s touch. You don’t say a word as you slip your hands under his leather jacket, running along the fabric of his shirt before going under it as well. Your lips quirk up when you feel his abdomen tighten, straining with the muscle you already know is there. You trail one of your hands down, letting a stray finger hook into his belt loop.

“Rode all this way,” You murmur, ignoring the way your gut squirms with confusion. There’s no way Danny could’ve gotten to your place so fast, not even if he was speeding the whole way. “And you won’t even kiss me…”

Danny snorts, his hand turning tight on your hip, gripping you hard. “That’s all you want?” He leans down to press his lips against yours, so soft it makes your heart ache.

It’s the contrast with him. The push and pull. So hot and eager one minute, yet so cold and distant the next. But his lips are sweet and kind against yours, and you can’t bring yourself to pick at the scabs of question that litter your relationship with him.

When he pulls back, his voice is rough against your mouth, lips moving like butterfly kisses against yours. “Just one kiss?”

You unzip his jeans in response, nipping at his lower lip when he chuckles.

“Mmhm. That’s what I thought.”

In a quick motion, Danny wraps one arm under your thigh and the other tight around your waist, hoisting you up like you weigh nothing. You nearly yelp at him, your hands slipping out from under his shirt. Before you have the chance to respond, he has your back pressed up against the door once again.

He kisses you with ferocity you’ve never felt from another. Licking into your open mouth, he waits for you to moan before biting down on your lower lip. You grab a fistful of his hair, yanking down when he sinks his teeth down into it again.

Danny works his way down from your lips, sucking dark bruises on your neck and jawline. You gasp and let go of his hair, grabbing onto the back of his neck instead.

“Danny,” You try to speak but the second you start, he’s biting down hard. Right under your jawline, where he knows you’re most sensitive, making you melt into a gasping mess.

He pulls back by a fraction, leaving his lips to rest against the mark he’s made. You can feel the smile on his lips when he speaks, low and so gravely that you swear you can feel it thrumming through your throat. “What was that?”

You laugh, something that starts out soft but turns breathless once he replaces his lips with his tongue. “Choke me,” You rush, as if you’re worried you might forget if he keeps going. The tongue on your neck disappears, and doubt flashes in your mind. “If you want.” You clarify, just as fast. “You can if you want, I mean. I… I don’t mind.”

“Is that right, baby? You don’t mind?”

You nod your head as he adjusts his hips, keeping you stable against the wall so he can pull away from your neck. The look on his face is diabolical, and if you weren’t being held up you’re sure it would be enough to send you to your knees.

“Wanna know what I think?”

You lick over your kiss-bitten lips and nod.

“I think my baby’s a fucking freak.” His hand goes around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure. You press into the touch, exhaling through your nose. Your cheeks are on fire, butterflies batting their wings in your stomach.

“I just... I-” Your stammer is cut off by the hand on your throat tightening, stopping the words before they can fall from your tongue.

Your eyes widen as Danny leans in, propping up his thigh to keep you up against the wall. His hand slides down then, squeezing the inner of your upper thigh. You know where he’s going, and let out a shaky exhale, wrapping your legs tighter around him in anticipation. When he touches you, you bite your lower lip.

“You’re still dripping,” Danny sing-songs, dragging two fingers through your folds. He avoids your cock, but just him touching you is enough for you to groan. “I’d say you’re even more wet now.”

Your eyes bulge as he flexes his arm muscles, the veins on his forearm straining from the pressure. The ease at which he can cut off your breath should scare you, but all you can process is the heavy, humid heat that’s filling up your mind. You don’t struggle for breath, you don’t need to yet, but you do open your mouth when he squeezes even tighter.

“It’s so hot,” He groans, pressing forward until his arm is trapped between both of your chests, and his mouth is panting against your ear. “Feeling how bad you need me,”

If his fist wasn’t wrapped around your throat, you would’ve whined. You can feel his heavy puffs of air on the side of your face, and how his chest moves with every ragged breath. You tilt your hips up, trying to get him to move his fingers down. You’ve been waiting so long, and all you want is to feel him inside you. But he just chuckles, presses closer, stilling your hips.

“Desperate,” Danny rasps. “Fucking slut, can’t come unless I’m inside you?”

Your cheeks burn, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’re nearly spaced out, your head beginning to spin from the lack of oxygen.

“So fucking wet for it, so wet for me,” He inhales shakily, like he’s trying to pull himself together, before letting you breathe again.

You suck in a deep breath, head spinning from the sudden rush of oxygen. He keeps his hand on your throat, not tight enough to choke, but just enough to serve as a reminder of what he could do. Danny presses further up against you, crushing you into the door as he slips a digit inside your heat.

“Oh,” You groan as he adds another, curling them upwards as his thumb starts to massage your cock. “Danny,”

He doesn’t respond, too far gone to speak as he watches you. His eyes are dark and open wide, with an unfamiliar, wild glint in them. The way he works you feels the same, rough and fast, almost in time with his heavy pants.

“You’re driving me crazy,” He grunts, squeezing your neck. “Having you like this-” he cuts himself off with a deep inhale before pulling out completely.

Before you have the time to complain, he’s grabbing you by the hips again, walking a few feet over to the kitchen table, and slamming you down onto it. Your back thuds when it hits the old wood, your eyes wide with shock. He shoves your legs apart, grabbing you by the thighs so he can drag you closer to him.

The skillful way he unbuckles and unzips his pants could almost seem calm if it wasn’t betrayed by the near frantic look in his eyes. He only gets his jeans undone enough to pull his cock out before grabbing you again, pulling until your ass is almost hanging over the table, and thrusting into you.

You can’t be embarrassed by the noise he drags from your throat, something high and strangled and fuck, you know that if it wasn’t for him stretching you out before, he’s big enough that it would’ve hurt. He doesn’t speak as he thrusts, fucking you as you’ve never been fucked before. He’s like a man on the brink, his hands gripping you hard enough to leave bruises.

There’s a moan stuck in your throat, some words too. An assortment of garbled sentences, but each thrust punches them right out until you’re being pounded into a whining, half-crying mess. He’s hitting all the right places, angling his hips just right, and slamming into you until you see stars.

It’s only after you get close, your thighs shaking and straining with the effort, that Danny grabs your throat, squeezing hard as he slows down his thrusts. “If I had my way, I’d keep you like this all the time.”

You swallow back another moan, your eyes still wide when they meet his.

“So wet and open, like you were fucking made for me.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, hard and slow. His hand turns to a fist, cutting off your airflow. “Gonna give you what you need, gonna take good care of my baby,” Danny moves his hand from your thigh to your waist, ghosting over your stomach. “And if you’re good, I might even fuck one into you.”

Your back arches as you come, his words are all you need to go right over the edge. Black ebbs away at your vision as Danny fucks you through it, hard and fast, choking you as you writhe on his cock. He’s set the pace now, and keeps it steady even as you come back down into your body. It’s nearly too much, but you can’t find the strength to articulate your words.

His hand leaves your throat, but only to trail down your chest, moving to your navel. His fingers find your cock easily, and you yelp in some sort of mix between pain and pleasure. It’s too much, and you arch your back off the table, shimming your hips, doing anything to escape his touch. It’s fire, his touch. Blinding, painful, but so damn hot you can’t help but crave more.

It lasts for years, the constant mix between pain and pleasure. The digit on your cock only lets up once Danny’s breathing turns to pants, sweat beading on his forehead. His hips stutter, slowing down for a moment before gripping your hips with a sudden, newfound intensity. Your skin pales where he’s applied pressure, slamming you down hard onto his cock.

“Angel,” Danny groans, fucking into you once, twice, three times. He comes with a growl, his eyes never shutting as he rides out his pleasure.

There’s a whine in your throat, spilling from your lips just as he fills you up. You’ve never done this without a condom before, but now that you have, you don’t know how you could ever go back to wrapping it up. He leans back, still inside you, catching his breath. Sucking in greedy lungfuls as you watch, your chest heaving with the same intensity.

When he moves to pull out, you grab both of his wrists, not giving him the option of letting go of your hips.

“Wait,” You murmur, pulling him in closer. There’s no real strength behind it, but Danny humors you all the same. You bring one of his hands up to your cheek and nuzzle into it, peppering a few light kisses on his knuckles.

He leans forward, and you kiss him softly, both of you smiling into it. You free his hands, having gotten what you wanted, and he moves them to trail down your chest, caressing your sides. He leaves one to rest on your belly, the other one moving to the side of your neck.

“You really liked that, huh?” Danny asks quietly, his voice a low whisper against your skin.

“Shut up.”

He huffs, kissing the side of your head in what you can tell is exasperation.

A part of you wishes you could stay like this forever. It makes you feel safe, having Danny surrounding you so fully. It makes you feel loved. But the smarter part of you knows that he has to be up at six tomorrow morning, and you don’t know if he’ll stay once you fall asleep. If you’re already in the bedroom, clinging to him under the covers, he’ll stay the night. But if you doze off on the kitchen table, you know he’ll only tuck you into bed before leaving.

“Bed?” You ask, looking up at Danny with half lidded eyes. You can feel the fondness in his gaze as he stares down at you, waiting a few seconds before nodding.

“Yeah baby. C’mere.”

His hands are gentle as they slide over your body, and you have to stop him before he can try and carry you himself.

“I can walk, you know. I’m not gonna break.” You try to chastise, but a smile breaks through your facade. He grins back, lips spreading to reveal teeth, sharp and as deadly as ever. But his lips are soft, plush against your skin and gentle in a way that is too hard for your muddled mind to try and describe. “You know that first hand.”

Danny slips his arms around you once more, chuckling softly against your skin. “I sure do.” He leans up, taking you into his arms as he straightens out his body. “It’ll take a lot more to break you, darling. I know that first hand.”

He carries you to bed with your face tucked into the crook of his neck and your arms slung loosely around his shoulders, and he only needs one arm to pull back the sheets, keeping the other around your waist, before laying you down and tucking you in.

“Stay?” The space between your thighs is sore, and your voice is hoarse from his hand wrapped around your neck. But you amplify it just a bit, making your voice a bit more gravely than it ought to. You have to stay. you’re trying to convey. Look what you’ve done to me, you can’t just leave me like this.

He shucks off his jeans and jacket before slipping in beside you. Warming your bed like he has all the times before, with his arms around you and his face buried in your hair.

You shut your eyes to the sound of him murmuring, and even though you can’t quite hear what he’s saying, you repeat the words back on instinct.

“Love you too, Danny. Love you forever.”

[nxrthmizu]

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug 

genre | lila salt, so much salt 

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 

w.c | 8.1k 

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ─���──────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 

Was it...? 

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 

Perhaps it was possible. 

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 

No. 

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 

A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 

“... No.” 

“...” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 

This elicited another round of groans. 

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam! 

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 

Alya was silent. 

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 

The class agreed, nodding along. 

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 

This is your problem now. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 

“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 

[capseycartwright]

“No you don’t understand, I have to get back!” :))))

Their job had its dangerous moments. Eddie didn’t really consider it a dangerous job – no, it wasn’t always dangerous. Sometimes, the job was rescuing cats, and breaking in locked doors, and sometimes – sometimes it was fires like this. It had been a bad fire long before it had been upgraded to a five-alarm fire – a multistorey apartment building that had gone up like a tinder block, clearly not adhering to a single building, or fire safety standard. Half the residents were students, too many people living in each apartment and scared out of their minds, and the rest were families.

The scene was chaos – it had been from the moment the 118 had come on scene, the third unit called in, Hen and Chimney trying to deal with triaging patients and Buck and Eddie right on search and rescue.

Eddie would probably be more scared of his job if he had to do it without Buck. Walking into every rescue, every fire, knowing he had Buck by his side – it made it less terrifying, because Buck was the best goddamned firefighter Eddie had ever met. He was quick, and clever, and he’d always had Eddie’s back, and it made the dangerous moments feel so much less overwhelming.

The evacuation order had come, a few hours into the chaos. Bobby’s voice had cracked over the walkie-talkie, calling them out immediately. The building wasn’t safe, Bobby had roared – they were calling it. It was about to collapse.

Those moments, when that call came through – those were the worst moments, Eddie decided. There were people in the building – they knew that for sure. There was eight people unaccounted for, and they were about to become eight people they weren’t going to be able to save. Eddie had joined the fire department to save – to rescue, to heal, to put out fires – and every day they weren’t able to get everyone out, they were bad days.

Eddie didn’t know the eight people’s names – but he’d imagine who they were, long after they cleared the scene. He’d wonder if they had a partner, or kids, who their families were – what kind of job they had. If they’d been happy. The magnitude of the loss of a human life was too much to comprehend – let alone eight.

Chimney’s wide-eyed look made Eddie’s stomach twist, as he finally made it out of the burning building.

“What?” Eddie looked at his colleague. “What did I miss?”

“Eddie,” Chimney’s voice was hoarse. “Where’s Buck?”

If Eddie didn’t have the medical knowledge to know otherwise, he’d say he was having a heart-attack. “He’s behind me,” he said, sure of his words. Bobby’s evacuation order had come through, and Buck had tapped Eddie on the shoulder, and nodded, letting Eddie lead the way out of the fire. Eddie hadn’t checked, because Buck was always behind him.

“Eddie, he’s not,” Chimney’s voice was gentle, but his worry was clear.

Eddie felt wild, with the knowledge that Buck was still in a burning, collapsing building. He’d barely gotten his mask off, but he was putting it on again, shaking his head. “I’m going in,” he said, not asking – he wasn’t going to ask for permission, not when it came to Buck.

“No, you’re not,” Bobby’s tone was firm as he joined the conversation. “He’ll get out.”

Eddie shook his head. “I’ve got to go back in,” he said in a rush.

“Eddie, I said no.”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to get back – I have to get back inside,” Eddie practically begged, hating the way tears welled in his eyes as he begged Bobby. He had to get back, and he had to make sure Buck was okay – because it couldn’t end like this, in the middle of the night, at a shitty, chaotic apartment block fire.

“Eddie, they called the evacuation, you cannot go back in,” Bobby said. “He’ll get out. Okay?” he didn’t wait for an answer, clicking on his radio. “Firefighter Buckley – report, please.”

Silence. Overwhelming, terrifying silence.

“Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby repeated. “Come in, please.”

The static crackle of the radio felt like it was being played at top volume, Eddie’s heart thundering in his chest. There was – there was so much he still needed to say, things he still needed to tell Buck. He’d been so sure they finally had time, now, because now they were finally on the same page, and Eddie was ready, he was so ready for the next chapter of his life with Buck, and he hadn’t told him.

What if he never had the chance to tell him?

What if – what if Eddie had missed his chance?

“Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby tried again, the tremor in his voice the only indication that he was as worried as Eddie felt, in that moment. “Come in, Buck,” he pleaded. “Please.”

There was an agonising pause, and then a shout – a shout from Hen, of all people, their colleague waving manically from close to the building where she was triaging a patient who needed a gurney.

Eddie’s life felt like it was flashing before his fucking eyes as he realised it was Buck, who was stumbling out of the building, his mask cracked and his helmet damaged, but he was alive – he was alive and Eddie’s feet were moving before his brain fully came back online, Eddie sprinting as best he could in his heavy turnout gear, skidding to a stop as Buck stumbled, and collapsed right into his arms.

“You were supposed to be behind me!” Eddie couldn’t help his accusatory tone, kneeling with Buck in his arms, his best friend’s chest heaving as he tried to suck in some oxygen. How long had he been in there, without a mask? Eddie ripped his own off, sliding it over Buck’s face with a practised ease, letting Buck burrow into his chest.

Eddie held Buck tightly – more tightly than he probably should be, given Buck was definitely showing signs of a concussion and needed to be looked at by an actual medical professional – but he couldn’t help himself, holding tightly to the younger man as tears streamed down his dirty, soot covered face.

Buck’s fingers tapped against Eddie’s arm in a signal that had become so familiar, over the years. Fires were loud, and sometimes you couldn’t talk – so they’d developed their own system for communicating, a series of taps and touches that helped them navigate their worst scenes.

I’m sorry.

Gently cupping the back of Buck’s neck, Eddie traced the letters, unable to say the words, just yet.

I love you.

Buck practically melted, in Eddie’s arms. Two taps, to Eddie’s arm.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin – he knew what that meant.

I know.

send me a prompt from this list

[get-shiggy-with-it]

gin and tonic and bad, bad men

Collab Masterlist

✧ pairing: bartender!dabi x waitstaff!fem!reader

✧ word count: 6k

✧ warnings: misogyny, scummy dabi, noncon/dubcon, yandere vibes, cat calling, toxic relationships, toxic work environment, face fucking (?), smut, semi-public sex (in an alley), alcohol, drunk reader, drunk sex, smoking mention, brief spitting, humiliation, light degradation, probably incorrect use of restaurant terminology, reader is implied female but no body parts are explicitly gendered

✧ summary: Dabi is willing to protect you from those awful, nasty men who torment you at work, but he never does anything on the house -- or the newbie at the bar catches dabi's attention and everyone else's.

✧ a/n: Heyy my first dabi, and he's scummy as hell in this. who's shocked? Not me. This is for the BNHAREM collab and it's a coworker/workplace au! Please go check out all the other works, everyone is so talented! Enjoy~

Dead men tell no tales, but drunk men’s mouths run wild.

Liquor loosens the lips like no other force of nature.

Dabi knows this to be true.

Whiskey runs hot in the blood and makes hands reach to lay claim on whatever is closest, whatever is prettiest within their grasp.

Alcohol on the tongue draws forth cravings from deep, hidden pits in men—bears their ugly truths to the world—and Dabi is the master of this liquid sorcery.

He sits, high and mighty, behind the safety of his bartop and watches the sea of bodies grow loose with vodka and gin and in turn he drinks their secrets. Sees the things they hide in sobriety and knows their nature with a removed certainty that is only found in those who have seen the darkest depths of mankind and come out the other side stinking of their filth.

The mahogany slab that separates Dabi from the waves of slobbering drunkards does nothing to stop the infection from spreading. He knows their thoughts, knows their truth, knows what their hands long to bruise, because they’re his thoughts too.

His truth.

His longing.

Kept only at bay by the simple fact that the boss doesn’t like him drinking on shift. Likes to keep his air of professionalism even if the bar is nothing more than a seedy dive in the bad part of the bad part of town.

Whatever keeps him off Dabi’s back is fine.

“The bar is over there and that door is to the kitchen…”

Toga’s voice pulls him from his stupor. The dirty rag he’d been using to halfheartedly wipe down the counters leaves his skin slick, calluses soft and plump as the water eats at them. She’s showing around one of the new hires. The turn over rate for staff here is so goddamn awful that this is a near weekly occurrence, so Dabi doesn’t pay her much mind as she wanders over.

It isn’t until her face is shoved up against his across the bar that he looks away from his task.

“Say hi to the newbie!” she cackles, smile just deranged enough to keep her safe from the crowds on packed nights.

Toga doesn’t look it but she belongs here too, in the filth and squalor of humans. But not like him. She thrives and gorges herself on their foolishness, twirling through the mob of patrons, always knowing who’s back to pat for gracious tips and who’s to stab when she needs to.

He glances up through his lashes and is both shocked and unsurprised by what he finds.

Hanging off the end of Toga’s arm, you stand out against the dingy background of the taproom. The smog of the bar clings to it’s staff, making their hair dull and their eyes red rimmed. You haven’t been poisoned yet though. The smell of the downpour raging outside still clings to you and errant raindrops drip down your chin like tears.

“Hey,” he grumbles and with another prodding look from Toga tacks on a gruff, “name’s Dabi.”

“He’s our bartender,” Toga provides after his silence and you smile. He guesses cause you don’t know any better.

You’ll learn not to do that down here soon enough.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Your name slips off your lips and onto his like top shelf tequila. There’s rain on your palm as you reach out for him, so when he takes it to shake, you can’t feel the way the grime clings to his skin—can’t feel the roughness etched into his fingers through the chill.

Can’t see him for what he is.

Meanwhile, you’re practically transparent in the dim, neon light of the bar.

The buttons of your shirt are undone too low, he notices as Toga drags you away to the back. He could warn you, should warn you. That when the late night crowd stumbles in, you’ll want those extra inches of skin covered up. That dressing like that is just asking for something to get smacked.

You must be stupid to not know it, because he doesn’t think you do.

You’re not really carrying yourself like a slut, he thinks, watching you trail along behind his boisterous coworker smiling and nodding and eager to please.

He ought to warn you.

But he knows he won’t.

You’ll be gone within a week and Dabi will swiftly forget your name and face just like the others before you. He’ll sneak shots in while his manager’s back is turned and any memory of you will be filtered out by his abused liver.

But for now, Dabi reigns himself back in to polish some of the obvious stains from his glasses and prepares himself for the show. The doors open in an hour, and he wants to be ready for the action.

The drunk antics of all the city's criminals gets old fast when you’re the one who has to clean up their shit.

Fresh meat is the only real entertainment they ever get around here.

So Dabi watches as you don one of the stained, black aprons and doesn’t tell you to cover up that sliver of your chest practically glowing in the electric red and blue light. Just looks on from the relative sanctuary of the bar as Toga instructs you on how to carry the drink trays and waits patiently to see you be devoured.

After you trip on the way back to the kitchen, Dabi pulls a twenty out of his pocket and shoves it in a jar hidden under the bartop. He makes a mental note to tell the chef he’s betting on just under a week you’ll last.

At the very least he’ll get a free performance and a neat hundred out of your inevitable failure.

He goes back to polishing, only looking up once as you breeze past the bar on your way to unlock the gates for the nocturnal animals of the city to filter in as they please.

You smile at him again as you pass.

Dabi tosses another twenty into the jar.

***

Well, he may have lost the bet, but he can’t find it in himself to mourn the forty dollars too hard.

Today would be your two week anniversary, and honestly, Dabi felt a bit of grudging respect for the determination you showed, no matter how pointless it was.

Determination and foolishness often came hand in hand.

He couldn’t help but think you looked more than a little the fool as you smiled and made unbridled eye contact with the patrons while walking your rounds from table to table. You’d learned enough to cover up a bit more, but he can’t be sure if that’s because you’ve started to notice the stares or because a spring cold front has rolled over the city. Either way, he watches you shiver under the gaze of a particularly rowdy guest and feels a chill run up his own spine as he watches the man’s eyes trail up your thighs, drinking down the slivers of bare skin like his fifth beer of the night.

Dabi is intrigued now.

Wonders how you’ve made it out of the fray every night so far.

Wonders what you’re hiding under those skimpy clothes and friendly, thoughtless smiles.

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out.

It’s inevitable really. When you’re working nights there are certain occupational hazards to expect. So when the little clock above the bar reads just past one in the morning, and you drift out once again into the raging mass of bodies, Dabi isn’t shocked to hear the yelp and smash of glasses just a few minutes later.

The first die has been cast.

He looks up from pouring out two fingers of whiskey just in time to catch the man’s hand slipping between your thighs, dirty fingers digging into the flesh and yanking you down onto his spread legs. The tray of drinks you’d been carrying clatters to the floor, lacing the air with the sweet burn of alcohol and futile outrage.

It’s far too loud to hear what the man says to you, but the way his blackened, ragged nails press five perfect, filthy crescents onto your skin—how they mark you as a worthy target, claiming you with their muck—sends a clear enough message.

Dabi wouldn’t bother watching if it wasn’t you trying to squirm your way out of being passed from lap to lap around the booth. He’s isn’t the least bit ashamed to admit how curious he is to see which way you’ll react.

And while he expects passivity—a drawn look with wide eyes, hoping no reaction at all will leave them bored and searching for a more interesting conquest—Dabi finds himself on the wrong side of the tracks once more.

His eyebrows shoot up, quite the reaction from the generally stony bartender, as your hand cracks open palmed across the face of your captor. A strange, heavy silence falls over the bar. It lasts only a few precious seconds but it’s enough to draw the attention of your manager who pulls you, cursing and snarling like a dog without it’s muzzle, back to the kitchen.

It’s your face that does him in—seals both your fates in dripping cream and purple wax.

Working down here, in this pigsty bar with it’s air that clings and dirties and tarnishes, brightness of any kind is foreign.

Alluring.

And your eyes that shine with the glow of reckless willpower have the same draw as the fat wads of cash that slip too easily from drunk fingers into his tip jar. Defiance is a rare currency in the underworld and Dabi’s fingers itch as your secret is revealed.

You believe you’re worth something.

Even as he hears the rasp of his boss’ voice, berating and threatening from behind the swinging doors, Dabi can’t help but hold the image of your smile turned snarl. You’ll get off with a warning because you’ve lasted this long and it’s a hassle to find replacements with pretty enough faces. But only this once, do it again and you’ll be out on the street.

For his part he tries to look sympathetic when you crowd yourself behind the bar and pout with your tail between your legs.

You haven’t spoken to him since that first night and he hasn’t exactly made an attempt at conversation either.

It wasn’t like you were worth the effort before.

But now, as you sniffle and pretend the pin prick tears in your eyes are just from the bite of the liquor slicked floor, Dabi feels an old heat rise in him. Something stokes the embers that laid dying out inside the prison of his ribs, and he welcomes the familiar burn.

Like an old friend, like a knife at his throat.

The man from before approaches the bar to order another drink and his cloudy eyes don’t even seem to register the way you cower from him, back turned and sinking into the peeling wallpaper. They’ve forgotten you already. To them you are one of dozens, not worth the fight it takes when plenty of properly meek flesh hops from table to table, ripe for picking.

But Dabi see’s the flint in your hands and knows it’s you that lit this fire licking up the back of his throat.

With two rough fingers he beckons you over into the soft overhead spotlights of the bar. Like a beast to its master’s call you shuffle forward into his gravitational pull and look up at him warily.

“Wanna learn how to mix?” he asks, even to him his voice sounds harsh with disuse.

“...sure,” you say quietly, after a brief pause.

You’re warm and soft as he settles behind you, caging you in with his arms under the guise of reaching for a strainer or a jar of olives. Unlike that bastard, now long passed out from drink, Dabi’s face remains free of your claw marks when his chest brushes against you or his hand wanders to the small of your back to move you aside as he serves customers.

He even works up a little smile of his own when you stare, sunny bright over your shoulder at his attempt to distract you from the incident.

The city, the bar, the underground—all of it is an angry, storming ocean filled with angry, storming bodies that swiftly drowns its victims as they desperately tread water in the open, black abyss.

Without him, you’d learn to take the wandering hands and vulgar words or you’d be foolish enough to inhale them in lungfuls and sink to the bottom.

But as you smile and nod while he shows you how long to stir an Old Fashioned, Dabi feels his own neglected determination rise to the challenge.

By the end of the night, you already trail behind him as he does his rounds to each abandoned table. Like a stranded victim to a raft, you cling to the safety he’s dared to provide.

And if he plays his cards right.

He might not come out of this bet so empty handed.

If only you knew, he was no better than the rest of them.

You’d run straight from the trees into the wolf's den.

***

“What’s your favorite drink to make?” you ask.

Dabi glances up at you, his chest pressed against the cool surface of the bar as he surveys the empty taproom. It’s a little over an hour till opening, but the only thing waiting for him outside of this hellhole is an even deeper hellhole, so Dabi almost always finds himself lounging around the abandoned bar. The boss doesn’t care anyway as long as inventory gets taken and any dried blood from the night before is gone by the next day.

You’ve taken to drifting in early too, even sometimes on the nights you don’t work.

Normally, he’d be annoyed, but it’s better you’re here than out on the streets.

At least if you’re bugging him behind the bar, he can keep an eye on you. Dabi’s found recently that you’ve been on his mind with increasing frequency. It’s easier if you’re in his line of sight. There’s a certain reassurance in your dopey little smile and your hand fisted in the back of his shirt—your body knows where you belong even if your pretty little brain hasn’t quite caught up yet.

Pretty.

“My favorite or my best?” he grunts, pushing off the bar and wetting his lips.

“Is there a difference?”

You’re looking at him with what he assumes is meant to be a cocky grin, but he has a hard time taking you seriously with your crossed arms squishing your chest up like that.

“‘Course there is,” he turns to grab one of the highball glasses from it’s rack and sets it down on the counter. “Just because you like something, doesn’t mean you’re good to it.”

When he looks back at you over his shoulder, you’ve got this comical little furrow in your brow.

“To it?”

Dabi presses the tip of his finger into your forehead, “At it, whatever. Don’t frown so much, you’ll look old as fuck soon if you do.”

“You don’t know how old I am,” you scoff and slap his hand away.

“Bet I’m older,” he mumbles, searching the shelves of bottles idly while dropping a few cubes of ice into the glass.

It melts in his palm, slipping through the spaces between his fingers.

Dabi clenches his fist tighter.

“I don’t know about that,” you’re trotting around to the other side of the bar now, slipping into one of the worn, red topped stools and watching him start to mix.

He likes having you for an audience. Any other customer is only concerned with getting his drink as fast a possible, to numb whatever wounds need to be numbed on their insides. But you appreciate the art form of crafting this liquid destruction.

“I’m older where it counts,” he replies simply, pulling a bottle of gin down from near the top shelf and plopping it on the counter.

“Oh really? How’s that?”

Dabi measures out two ounces of sharp, clear liquor and pours it smoothly over the ice. He doesn’t bother looking at you as he works. He knows your eyes won’t leave him.

“Experience,” he offers and doesn’t elaborate.

The tonic water cracks open with a satisfying hiss and bubbles as he tips it into the glass. You trail your fingers through the condensation on the bar absentmindedly.

“I’m not as clueless as you think I am, you know that?”

He does glance at you then, senses the lack of your attention that’s focused on the fading finish of the bar top.

Dabi waits in silence.

You do elaborate.

“There’s some real fucking choice clientele here, but nothing that’s gone down on shifts is like, a new development.”

“No?” he asks because you expect him to respond and because he enjoys the way you perk up when he actually engages in a conversation with you.

He likes that you like it.

His attention.

It’s not often he finds anyone worth the effort.

“No.”

You stare at him expectantly now, eyes flicking between him and the glass as he stirs the drink a few times and grabs a lime wedge.

Dabi rolls his eyes at the clear fishing line you’re casting for more questions, but takes the bait anyway.

He hopes you know how lucky you are.

“What, got groped on the train a few times and now you think you're a seasoned member of the criminal underground?” he squeezes the fruit between two fingers lightly to spread its juice around the rim and lets it float atop the ice. “I fucking knew you were a dramatic little bitch.”

“I am not dramatic,” you pout just like you do every time the boss chews you out.

He gets the distinct feeling you’re just as much of a petulant little brat elsewhere as you are at work. Then again, that is what makes you so interesting. If you didn’t try to gnash those little baby teeth at him every now and again, he wouldn’t have bothered jumping to your rescue so often.

Dabi doesn’t partake in...partners often. People disappoint him, which isn’t shocking considering the amount of shit he’s seen them spew in his years behind the bar. People are dirty and never in the sexy way all those pop songs talk about, and that makes them boring. The allure of inviting someone else into his shoebox little life is shaping them to fit it. You can’t sculpt mud that loses its shape, slips through your fingers and back to the filthy earth where it belongs.

But you haven’t been stained yet.

You sit at his bar looking like a perfect slab of clay, ready for his hands to dip past those sweet, sweet lips and form them to fit only his fingers.

A rare find in a place like this, just like the single malt on his top shelf—unexpected, leaving behind a pleasant burn on his tongue.

He thinks back to that man on the first night he showed you some of the drinks and all the others that came after him. Here, in the bar, you can come scurrying over and hide behind the wall of his chest. You can put Dabi and the counter between you and the mass of hands and whistles.

He hadn’t really bothered to think of what might happen to you when he’s not around.

Who might touch his precious treasure he’s managed to dig out of muck.

Who might try and ruin you before he gets the chance.

His brain is working to rationalize the growing feeling of possession he feels towards the half frown half permanent smile that you fix him with. But he knows.

He knows exactly what he’d like to do to you and how he’d like to do it.

Knows it’s exactly what all those creeps on the train or drunks that stumble in one hour to call would like too.

It’s fine though. People like him wouldn’t be so attracted to people like you if you weren’t asking for it.

And you were asking.

Every time you stood by him, attached at the hip and let him chase off the assholes who tried to get in your pants or practically begged him with your eyes for some scrap of attention—you were asking for him to take control.

Even if you were too stupid to see it for yourself.

Your body knows what you want, even if you deny it with every fiber left of you.

He doesn’t offer another response, just slides the concoction across and into your outstretched hands.

Gin and tonic is simple, bare bones and hard to fuck up. He likes that. Everything else is so goddamn complicated, this type of magic doesn’t need to be.

You seem to forget the weight of the previous conversation and peer curiously down into the glass. Dabi is shameless as he watches your lips wrap around the curved edge and your throat constrict as you swallow.

He likes that more than the floral gin that hits his tongue when you pass the drink back and he sips.

“So which is it, your favorite or your best?”

There’s a pause as he considers the questions before passing the glass back to you.

“My favorite.”

He isn’t looking at the drink when he answers.

“Oh,” you respond quietly, sipping lightly on the drink he’s made and looking at him like he isn’t seconds away from taking you then and there.

“Stay awhile after your shift,” he says, not much thought behind the words. “I’ll drive you home.”

***

You look almost angelic, a beacon amongst the refuse and grime of the back alley, silhouetted by the dying orange glow of a lone street lamp. The door to the kitchen is still rattling in its frame as Dabi pulls you stumbling behind him.

He isn’t angry.

But there’s something burning in him.

In reality, he’d felt the potential of the night the instant he walked through the front doors, slipping behind the bar to clock in only to find you leaned up against the drink racks, ready and waiting.

The same sensation since the first time you’d smiled that dopey smile his way was raging to a crescendo under his skin. He’d been doing you a service all these weeks, keeping you from the prying eyes and fingers of the patrons—keeping them from soiling what was his to ruin.

Tonight he would take what he was owed.

Indulge a bit in what he’d won, the gold nugget he’d plucked from the dirty, city sewer riverbed.

After all, he needed to make sure you were a worthwhile investment.

If the boss thought the restaurant business was risky….well, Dabi knew better.

You struggled a bit as his fingernails dug into the skin on your bicep, but he just tugged harder, clicking his tongue at the jumble of slurred protests you groaned into the sweet summer air. There was a space between the two massive dumpsters out behind the kitchen Dabi used to go to smoke. It was a nice, private little spot. Didn’t smell too great but nothing here did, and that wouldn’t matter when he had you to distract him anyway.

In seconds he had your back to the wall, hidden on either side by steel containers. The brick caught on your uniform and Dabi watched the fabric tighten around your chest and throat. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, but your hands were weak as they shoved at him, easy to gather in one palm and pin down.

He wasn’t exactly sure what put this idea in his head—the urgency in his blood—but it definitely had something to do with that last customer.

It was halfway through your night shift, closing in on one in the morning. Dabi was stuck behind the bar, churning out cheap beers and lines of shots. You’d been forced to brave the sea of regulars, too busy to hide yourself away in the kitchen with Toga or watch with owl-wide eyes as Dabi doled out liquor.

The bar was unusually packed. Not that it was strange for a bar to be full on a Friday night, but he’d never seen the place without an empty seat in sight.

Maybe it was because you were so easily swallowed up by the roiling mass of bodies, or maybe it was because Dabi lost himself in the magic of the drinks—of the mixing and matching and perfecting—that he didn’t notice the man.

That the way this particular customer stared and touched and spoke to you miraculously didn’t end in a smart slap to the face and a screaming session from the manager.

No. It seemed that somewhere along the way he’d let that light in you, the matchstick spark, dwindle just a bit too much, let you sink just a bit too far into the mud of the place. Cause when this man pulled you into his lap and plied you with shot after shot, cheering all the time, calling you his ‘pretty little thing,’ you didn’t put up any fight.

No.

No you smiled that dumb, bright eyed smile at him.

Flashed this nobody asshole Dabi’s sweet little smile and drank the shots he’d poured like Dabi hadn’t wasted the nearly a month driving you home and keeping you safe from the human garbage that wandered in off the street. Like all that work had been for nothing, up in ashes the instant that man’s hand found purchase on your bare thigh and you didn’t so much as squirm in his grip.

You squirm now though.

Fight despite the alcohol blurring your vision and turning your bones to jelly. Normally the boss hates it when his employees drink on shift, but if you want to take it like the fucking slut you were well, who’s Dabi to stop you?

He kept pouring rounds for that table and watched the man tip sweet, top shelf whiskey down your throat. It didn’t take long till you were losing your balance and sinking deeper into the quicksand debris of the bar.

Gin and tonics used to be medicinal—mixed up with quinine to treat malaria. Dabi likes that. Likes the idea that he’s whipping up healing potions instead of Molotovs. Likes the freshness amidst the burn.

But Dabi wants you to burn now.

Wants your throat on fire with the betrayal.

It’s easy to force your knees. The whiskey made you pliant even as you shake your head and look up at him with bleary eyes.

“You’re looking at me now, huh?” he works his tongue across his teeth as the words leave him, spitting straight on your cheek to watch you recoil in disgust. “Didn’t seem too interested in me earlier.”

“I don’t, I’m sorry...what?” you mumble.

He thinks if you were more coherent you might be crying.

Maybe he should have cut you off sooner.

“Don’t act stupid with me,” he still has your hands held above your head and his free hand moves to grip your scalp. “You’ve been behind my bar so many times, there’s no way you don’t know I see everything.”

“Why didn’t you…” Dabi shakes your head as your eyes droop and you gasp at his nails raking your skin. “You could have helped me!”

“What? Help you get fucked by some drunk shit? I don’t think so.”

“No,” you shake your head yourself this time, face screwed up in confusion and as the grit of the alley bites into your knees. “They wouldn’t let me leave, I was scared, Dabi please—”

He is swiftly losing his patience, hand leaving your head to fumble with the clasp of his belt and pants. The look on your face—tears beginning to bead at the corners of your eyes and mouth opening up as words try but fail to find their way off your tongue—is enough to have his cock twitching with interest.

“Listen sweetheart, cause I’m not gonna fucking say this again,” he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest as his dick falls free from his boxers and your eyes go almost all white as he strokes up the ladder of piercings on his shaft. “You might think you’re cut out for this job, but you aren’t shit. Everything’s got a price down here and you’re gonna have to pay the fuck up for what you owe me.”

You look like you want to protest, even in this state—on your knees in an dirty as fuck alley with a fat cock nudging your lips—but he’s got his thumb worked between your teeth, shoving down on your tongue until your jaw pops open and he can sheath himself inside.

The half choke, half sob, half shameful moan that squeezes out past his dick only has Dabi growing harder. It’s been so long since he’s fucked someone’s throat. So long since he’s fucked anything at all, he’s nearly forgotten how goddamn good it feels to have something other than a fist wrapped around him.

His fingers migrate, moving to grip you by the cheeks, keeping your mouth open and jaw locked so you can’t bite him. Not that he thinks you really would.

Your body knows what you want.

And it seems like you really want a fucking dick in your mouth.

He pulls out, listening to the click of the little metal barbells against your teeth and the gasp of air you take before he plunges back in.

“Look at you,” he muses, daring to release your hands which flop uselessly to your sides as he holds your face still and starts to roll his hips. “Don’t know why I waited so long to collect, fucking shit.”

Your neck bulges with every stroke of his hips, and when the ring at the tip of his dick nudges the back of your throat, you gag so pretty he can hardly stand it.

He wonders idly, as you cry and choke on his cock, if you’re thinking about the man in the bar. Wishing it was his length you were lapping at like a good little hole.

Wishing Dabi had been better.

Not like the others.

And for a moment, it has him stilling—the horrid notion that there might have been something not so twisted between you if only he wasn’t scum like the rest, if he wasn’t just hiding his dirt on the inside.

Tar logged lungs and heart.

But then he remembers that if he just fucks you hard enough, you’ll forget all those nasty things until you’re fit just for him. Molded for Dabi right down to the thoughts in your head.

So instead of stopping this now and hoping you’re drunk enough to forget the filth of the alley and the salt of his cum on your tongue, he picks up his pace.

His thighs burn with the effort, not used to this kind of movement after years alone, and your face is a mess of tear tracks and spit that dribbles out in streams around the length of him slamming into your throat.

It’s quick and dirty and hard and everything Dabi has ever been and will always be. Delicious and hot and fresh. His blood is pounding in his ears, drowning out the cries and sobs and whimpers coming from you between his knees. Instead his head is alight with the thought that soon he’ll mark that mouth as his, claim you before the others could. And if the road to hell is paved with good intentions then Dabi doesn’t know where he’s going when he dies, but he’s deep in heaven now.

With a bang and a whimper Dabi will pretend didn’t slip past his lips, he slams past your teeth once more before exploding in your mouth. Thick, white ropes of release coat your tongue and he doesn’t pull out, just works his fingers under your jaw until he feels you swallow around his softening cock.

Only then does he take a step back to survey his work.

Half in shadow, surrounded in trash and debris, cum stained with dirt under your nails, Dabi feels pride well in his chest.

Distantly he thinks that this burning sense of completion, of perfection, of accomplishment, is what an artist must feel—hand finally dropping the brush to gaze upon their life’s work.

A masterpiece.

His perfect, human clay creation.

Your mouth still hangs dumbly open, hands resting on the brick dust coated ground, your eyes are wide and still stare up at him—reminiscent of a peasant gazing onto a king, confused at the power before you. And with the dim burning of the streetlight, illuminating his hair and glinting off the silver piercings adorning his ears, Dabi thinks he must look just that—a king with his crown of bloody jewels.

He watches as you sway and fall forward on your hands and coughing onto the ground. Your chest heaves, your legs shake, and Dabi feels his shoulders soften. He tucks himself away slowly, refastening his belt as your sputtering subsides. With careful steps, he moves to stand in front of you once again, running his hand along the back of your head until your breaths come deeply and his mouth tastes sickly sweet at the way your hands move to grip at his boots.

“Hey,” he mumbles, feeling some strange heat in his face that brings him to his knees before you. “Look at me.”

And you do in an instant.

Dabi half expects a glare, steely and cold like the walk-in but it’s not.

Your eyes are blank and glossy, staring hooded and helpless like a stray cat desperate to be carried away and fed warm milk.

He wipes a bit of his own release from the corner of your mouth and doesn’t question the sudden, intense need to lick behind your teeth. With filthy hands he cups your face and revels in the feel of your swollen lips and the taste of himself on your tongue.

It screams ownership.

And Dabi has never had much to his name so the thought only makes him want to cling harder.

As he pulls away there’s a smear of red dust on your cheek from his thumbs stroking the skin. Marked. Claimed. Coated in a thin layer of grime just like every other poor soul that walks into this place, but that dirt is his. That filth is him, a permanent imprint on your bones.

He thinks you’d look good with his name in black ink etched into your flesh, dark and blatant so anyone who looks at you would know, would see who owns you even when the muck has been washed away.

“You did good,” he says, giving you a smile of his own—maybe his first, surely not his last.

Your voice is nothing more than a sunken ship wreckage of what it once was, interrupted with sniffles and creaks. “I..want to go home….”

“Let me drive you,” his hands reach under your arms to lift you shakily off the ground, head tucked safely into his shoulder as he helps you limp to his car. “Not safe for you to go walking at this time of night. Men can be fucking monsters you know?”

His heart pounds happily in his chest as you nod against him.

“Thanks,” you whisper into his shirt.

Dabi grins wider than he can ever recall. The kind of expression that makes his cheeks ache and his head spin.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” the words drip off his tongue, top shelf truth if he’s ever heard it. “Anytime.”

[tonesplash]

its thanksgiving get nasty (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

summary: you get bored at thanksgiving dinner. unfortunately for edward you wore sandals

warnings: smut,brief footjob, thanksgiving dinner, edward kind of chokes on corn, reader doesn’t like their family, mild injury, fingering, innappropriate use of vampire speed, technically exhibitionism and public sex?? bad dirty talk, and cousin-shaming, reader is afab and might be described as female im not sure

a/n: i wrote this in 24 hours so any sloppiness is not my fault

masterlist

(c/n)= cousins name

When you told him thanksgiving with your family would be boring, you’d meant it’d be for him, looking forward to his reaction to being on the receiving end of your bloodlines ridiculousness while you’d get dinner and a show. But, as it turns out, your family just so happens to get along with Edward much better than they do with you.

The seating situation is a little unconventional, since because your boyfriend-snatching cousin stole the open seat next to Edward before you even made it back from the bathroom, leaving your only viable option directly opposite of him. On the bright side, you had the option of kicking his leg when he’d said something to embarrass you.

 Bless his soul, he’d done his best to bring you into the conversation but apparently, anything you had to say about your relationship had been relayed verbatim to the family group chat you weren't even in by your mother. So, after the third time you’re talked over by the aforementioned horny cousin or some other nosy relative on you’re bored out of your mind.

Everyone had gotten over your piss poor table manners years ago, or were just completely ignoring you at this point because there were no protests when they’d brought the turkey out and you’d stayed slumped low in your seat like a child in church.

Twitter had stopped refreshing ten minutes ago, and when you finally resigned yourself to tuning back into the conversation, your mother was showing Edward your baby pictures again. Idly swinging one bare foot under the table, your bare toe grazes the drape of his dress slacks under the table when you get an idea.

 You’d lost a sandal earlier after Edward had pinned it under his shoe in a vain attempt to stop your pinching and dirtying of his slacks with your filthy soles. You scoot a little further forward in your seat to reach out and press your arch flat against his shin.

Edward doesn’t visibly react, just shifts his leg away, leaving yours to slip to the floor until you reach up again to plant your heel on the seat of the chair. The conversation lulls for a moment as everyone says grace, and he uses the opportunity to grab your ankle and send you a warning glare over the top of your phone.

You meet his gaze and boorishly eat a spoon of mashed potatoes, shrugging as if he couldn’t read in your mind exactly what you were about to do. 

Your cousin asks about his mom car again and when you roll your eyes Edward flicks the outside of your fibula, sure to bruise, and you crinkle your nose, pinching his marble thigh between your toes as best you can through the material.

“Well my father thought it was necessary for my siblings and I to-” 

While he talks, he's soothing the spot he flicked, playing in the stubble leftover from your shoddy shave job this morning, and the absent affection gives you the final motivation to further push your luck. You tease the seam of his left leg with the very tips of your toes, coaxing the unnatural heat of the venom to build in the crotch of his pants, the coolness of the rest of him making it seem even hotter in comparison.

He inhales on a forkful of corn, almost taking it down the wrong pipe, and you fight a smile around the bowl of the spoon as he flawlessly recovers and finishes the thought. You idly wonder if you could be that smooth someday. For now, you press further, pressing a toe against the seam over his cock, stroking up and down as slowly and consistently as you can while stretched under a table because who would’ve thought that footjobs are kind of an athletic feat. 

Edward taps insistently at your leg, harder than he normally would, and you have to hold back a laugh at the idea of him splitting the table because he can’t take a little footsie action. You press forward again, arch encompassing his hardness through the fabric, toes curling against his pubic bone when-

“Ho-oly shit!” Searing pain shoots up from your ankle, and you double over, using everything in you not to shout, Edwards dawning mortification going unnoticed as everyone at the table turns to you at your unexpected outburst.  

“(Y/n)?” Your mother doesn’t seem that happy to have dinner interrupted, and you clutch your stomach as a quick cover.

“Uh, my bad.” You snicker nervously at the sudden attention, bravado gone. Your face feels red-hot. “I actually need to use the bathroom, I think,” you lick your lips and slide out of your chair. “Lady problems.”

The table erupts in a cacophony of gags and groans as the notion of a menstrual cycle is brought up in casual conversation, and it gives you the perfect cover to retreat to the upstairs bathroom. It takes you a minute to make it up the stairs without causing a scene, and just as soon as you close and lock the door behind you and settle down to weep in peace, he’s there, jiggling the doorknob like it’s a drug bust.

“Let me in.”

You’re apparently taking too long because as soon as your injured foot touches the floor, he forces the lock and slips in, shutting the door a little too fast to pass as human. 

“Jesus! Edward, are you trying to lose our deposit?” You lean around him to check for a handprint but he doesn’t respond, wordlessly setting you up on the counter, kneeling to examine your injured ankle, cool fingers soothing to the sore skin. You sit in silence, idly swinging your other leg to distract yourself.

“How'd you make it out?” You can't imagine they’d let the guest of honor go so easily.

“You forgot your bag, I told them I’d just bringing it up to you.” He places your bag next to you as evidence. “Maybe you should start carrying menstrual products for when you actually need them.”

Of course, he breaks your foot and wants to lecture you on responsible uterus care. Edward sighs, taking your foot with the gentlest touch and whispering a kiss into the skin. “It’s only a sprain, but I’m still sorry.” 

“S’Okay.” Your face burns, not expecting his guilt. “Serves me right, huh?” You titter, poking his side with your uninjured foot. He swipes it up before you can start again, halfheartedly laughing with you. 

“Let me wrap it before you get any more ideas.” You hand him the compression wrap from the medicine cabinet, and he gets to work. The wince you give at the pressure is more reflex than anything, but the anxious expression on his face tells you he wasn't going to let this go easily. 

“Y’know…” You poke at him again. The playful contempt in his golden eyes gives you the go-ahead to make your case. “If you’re really feeling torn up about it, seeing you wow my family like that got me a little riled up.”

“Really.” Edward kisses the secured wrapping and releases you, standing to frame you against the counter.

“I’m serious, impressing them isn’t easy, (C/n) is probably shaving in the guest room to steal you from me right now, just thinking about it has got me a little hot under the collar.” You run your hands over his back and through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think?” His hands smooth over your exposed thighs sending a shiver up your spine. You think you've got him, but he's such a tease sometimes you can never really be sure.

“Depends. Is it working?” You still, bracing for some line about ‘responsibility’ and ‘your family waiting for you.’

But then his hands are under your skirt, hooking into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, leaving them to free-fall to your feet. You clutch his auburn hair in your fingers at the shock of open-air against your cunt.

“Do you think I could let you go back to that table smelling like this?” His sweet breath washes against your ear as he huffs a soft laugh. “I’d rather not go downstairs and pretend to care about football when I know you’re here, hot and ready for me.”

You can’t resist him any longer, pulling him close and kissing him with the desperation of a woman who needs to be back downstairs before dessert. His thumb teases over your cunt at first, swirling over your swelling clit and teasing your hole before he finds a focus, using the thumb of his free hand to hold your hood back as his slicked fingers grind the bud into a frenzy while he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

It’s all you can do to hold your breath while he touches you, cool fingers building a knot in your belly, smooth and steady as they batter you up into a frenzy. He adjusts his hand, his ring finger pressing into you and bringing a low ache from rushed preparation, but you welcome it, thighs shaking with the effort to stay open for him as your mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. Edward breaks the kiss to let you breathe , seemingly unbothered until- 

“(C/n) is coming.” 

“Wha-” A particularly deep stroke has you biting your lip as you struggle to concentrate. “What the fuck does she want?”

“She’s going to ask you where I am.” His expression doesn’t match his words, still completely concentrated on ruining you despite the obvious issue.

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!” You hiss back right as she reaches the door. His mouth closes over your pulse point and you don't think you've clenched that hard before in your life.

“Hey (Y/n)? Have you seen Edward?” Her voice is enough of a mood killer that you have to shove your face into his throat to ground yourself in the moment. He adds a second finger, gaining speed, and you pray and hope to any god listening to this that she can't hear the squelches through the door.

“N-no.” You rack your mind for an excuse. His scent is making it harder to concentrate. “I think he went out for a smoke?” Nice one.

“Really? I didn't smell anything on him...” If all your blood flow hadn't been centralized below the waist at this point you'd’ve asked how the hell she knows what he smells like. He's fully abandoned your clit now, leaving it to pulse in the open air while three of his fingers push and pull at your pelvic floor.

“That's cause he unh-” You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the moan before it can be recognized for what it is.“-he vapes!” Edward pulls back from your throat to look at you incredulously, but it's a little hard to be ashamed when he's nearly wrist deep inside you.

“Oh… Well, let him know if you see him that they’re playing charades and I need a partner. You know how it is.”

You forget to reply, too enthralled watching him spit onto his unoccupied fingers and mash the coolness against your clit, causing you to nearly spasm off the counter, losing the sensation as he silently laughs at having to hold you steady. She seemed to have taken your silence as an admission, as you can hear the door at the stoop of the stairs swinging shut after her. Thank God.

“Rub your spot, Sweet, come on, we have to be quick.” He kisses your temple and laughs a bit maniacally at the little whimper that escapes when you bring a hand down to your clit. “Surprisingly, she’s having trouble picturing me in a vape shop.”

You whine around a bitten lip, too far gone to listen to his ribbing. You’re building up to overstimulation with the sloppy way you’re rubbing yourself, and he must feel it too, because in the next second, his fingers are vibrating.

“Come on, (Y/n), don't you want to finish up here and mop the floor with them?” You hadn’t even realized how hazy your vision had gotten until he grabs your chin and levels your lidded eyes with his and says your name again. You nod sluggishly for him, not hearing a word. He laughs again, smiles wide. His teeth are pretty. 

“If you cum right now;” The buzzing grows stronger, your free arm spasming under you as you support yourself. “I’ll rub you raw after on the ride home. You just need to come right now and win charades with me.” 

The buzzing inside grows too strong, and your vision goes white, pulsing in long pulls around his fingers as hot waves of sensation spread from your head to your toes.

Edward kisses you, soft and slow, swallowing any whimpers tempted to escape as you come down, abandoning the counter to clutch his sleeve as the twitching reduces to a tremor.

“Oh my god.“ You laugh, planting your face into his collar as you catch your breath. “I can't believe you used charades to make me come, I'm never gonna forgive you.” 

“I heard the top prize is a ten dollar gift card to…” He squints and checks again. “The Google Play Store.”

“Ew, what could you even do with tha-”

“(Y/N) come help with plates!” Your mother shouts up the stairwell, totally fucking up any release you just had.

“I guess I should run down to the corner store;” Edward smiles, helping you to stand on wobbly legs and smoothing your skirt down. “Don't want to blow your cover.” 

“(Y/N)! Plates!”

“Oh my god;” Your eyes may never return from the back of your skull. “Meet you downstairs?”

He kisses you sweetly one last time, pulling you close and wiping the sheen of sweat off of your face.

“Downstairs.”

With that, he heaves himself out of the narrow sill, and you busy yourself cleaning up as fast as you can.

You just catch him hopping off the roof, and coming around to the front yard. He'll hear you no matter the volume, but you still shout the warning;

“Stay away from my cousin!”