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justfranzz · 8 months

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A Ledge and the Sun

Ledge Gorman wasn't special.

Everyone knew that, most of all him.

His name wasn't really Ledge - it was Shawn. When he was sixteen years old, feeling insane with anonymity, he climbed out the window of his high school science class and walked along the concrete lip that jutted out of the wall.

His science teacher yelled at him to come in. His classmates, who didn't know his name (no one ever remembered his name), just watched.

Gray Meder smiled, punching another student in the arm and taking the two twenty dollar bills that were reluctantly offered. "Told ya the pushover would do it."

Shawn reached the edge of the lip. His fingers dug into the cracks in the brick wall, blood leaking from his fingertips where the skin scraped off.

His science teacher was still yelling, sounding almost in hysterics; he threatened to call Shawn's parents, call the cops, fail Shawn in the class, something.

Shawn gazed down at the ground below. He was only on the second floor, and the sports equipment shed was right below where he perched. It was only about a seven foot drop. He'd survive for sure, just might break a bone or two if he landed wrong.

Logic didn't make him any less terrified.

He glanced back one more time. He saw Gray's cocksure grin, the way the boy casually flicked his hand as if to say, Go on. Do it.

Shawn took one deep breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and jumped.

For a moment, he felt like he was flying, like the wind had swept under his armpits and lifted him into the sky. For a moment, he was a leaf, swirling and dipping and rising with the breeze, making the world his plaything.

Then he was falling.

Too late, much too late, Shawn realized that he had jumped too far. He was going to miss the shed entirely.

His foot just grazed the tin roof of the shed, jerking his ankle to the side at an odd angle.

Hot asphalt raced up to meet him.

Sharp, lancing pain as his arms shot out to brace his fall.

Hello, the asphalt said. So nice of you to join us. Won't you stay a while?

His head slammed into the black tar, and he was out.

When he woke up in the hospital, they told him he had broken his right wrist and three of his fingers, fractured his radius in two places, twisted his ankle, and gotten a mild concussion to boot. Everything hurt. For the first time, at sixteen years old, Shawn thought, I want to die.

His father picked him up. They didn't speak the whole car ride home.

When they arrived, his father spoke, his voice a harsh whisper. "Don't ever do something so foolish again," he said, eyes firmly locked on the front door, unable to look at his son.

His stupid, un-special failure of a son.

They didn't speak of it after that.

Three days later, when he returned to school, Gray slid a five dollar bill across the desk to Shawn. He stared at it for a moment, flexing his unbroken fingers, trying to ignore the aching pain that had wrapped itself around him like an old friend.

"You said twenty."

"Oh, did I? Must've changed my mind." Gray leered at him, greasy hair plastered to his forehead. "You didn't jump far enough, Ledge Boy."

No one remembered his name after that, either. He became Ledge, the crazy kid who had jumped from the second story for a measly five bucks.

They were right, he thought, staring out the window. He was a ledge. He wasn't a person. He was a decoration, just another brick in the wall, held together by glue and mortar.

He felt some kinship for the ledge he had jumped from. We're the same, you and I. See your cracks, there - look, we match. And he thought of the x-rays they had shown him in the hospital, the splinters and cobweb cracks in his bones. He was just another old, forgotten piece of concrete, forever fading into the background, never to be noticed.

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Two years later, at eighteen, Ledge was rejected for the first time. Her name was Mary Crosh. She had short dark hair, striking green eyes, and freckles like a constellation across her skin. Mary loved history, and she had a mind like a whipcord, quick and always ready to strike.

She did it gently, kindly - she had always kind of seen him as a brother - it wasn't him, she just didn't have time for a boyfriend right now - they could still be friends if he wanted? - he seemed sweet but she just didn't feel the same - it just wasn't the right time - maybe after they graduated…

Ledge wished she had been cruel. He wished she had taken the heart he offered and thrown it to the ground, spit on it, crushed it beneath her heel. Then, at least, he could hate her, could resent her; then he could say, "I dodged a bullet on that one! She wasn't worth liking at all."

Lying curled under his blankets at three a.m. that night, dried tear tracks heavy on his skin, Ledge thought for the second time in his life:

I want to die.

Two weeks later, when he walked in on her making out with the quarterback of the football team, Ledge lost a little piece of himself, a piece he would never get back.

But he knew, he had always known, that she would reject him. That she would end up kissing some football player.

Because he was Ledge. The kid who nobody remembered except for jumping out of a window, and even that was forgotten eventually. The kid who was as un-special, as anonymous, as generic and forgettable as anyone can be.

He was as lovable as the concrete ledge just outside the window, and every bit as cracked and broken.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Mary wanted to go to Southern New Hampshire University. They had a good history program, she said. She wanted to be a history teacher.

Ledge would be a teacher too, he decided. He would go to SNHU, and maybe he would have classes with Mary, and maybe then the time would be right. Maybe then she would love him.

There was lots of history in architecture, after all, and he was the oldest piece of walking concrete he knew.

She wouldn't love him. Not now, not after he got a degree, not ever. He knew that. But he didn't know where else to go. Bricks of concrete don't have dreams. Support beams don't make goals, cornerstones don't join clubs, wooden floors don't have career plans.

He didn't care much for kids, didn't know the first thing about teaching, but he could learn. He had to learn. He had nowhere else to go.

So he would follow Mary, and he would become someone who was more than architecture, and if she never noticed him that was fine, at least he would have a clear path. At least he would have a goal. At least he would have a degree and a job.

He looked up guides for writing college applications, pretended he knew what he was doing, that he was a normal high school kid applying for a normal school with normal hopes and dreams.

With an anticlimactic click of his mouse, the application was sent in. He let out a quiet breath, slumped back in his chair, stared at the little box that said "submitted."

He was a ledge, he was a shitty college application, he was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner of his room, he was a forgotten, half-drained can of soda.

Ledge turned off his computer monitor and went to bed.

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A week before his nineteenth birthday, Ledge got a letter in the mail from SNHU. He opened it with trembling hands, the scars from his once-broken fingers itching with adrenaline.

Dear Mr. Gorman… Thank you for applying to Southern New Hampshire… we regret to inform you that we are unable to offer you… this year's selection has been competitive… cannot accept every applicant… honored that you considered us as one of your choices… respectfully…

Ledge didn't cry. He just tossed the letter in the garbage, all of his hopes and dreams going with it. He packed a duffel bag with his clothes and some of his favorite books, grabbed his phone charger, and left.

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At nineteen, he got his first job.

Working as a convenience store cashier all night - the graveyard shift paid better - no one else was willing to work it - reading whatever books he could get his hands on by day - cleaning his uniform at the laundromat - sleeping in his car because he couldn't drag himself up the stairs to his apartment - he dreamed of a shed he had missed once - maybe he could have fallen in love with it instead - green eyes and freckles haunted him - then he was waking up, putting on his uniform, going to guard the pretzels and the Coke Products and the shitty cheap sandwiches.

After three months, they hired a new guy, one who was willing to work the night shift. They didn't talk much at first, but there's not much to do for eight hours straight while the rest of the world is busy courting their dreams.

His name was Ben, and he was twenty-three, and he always smelled like cigarette smoke. They quickly found out that they were nothing alike. Ben was someone special - he played in a band, not a big one but they made some money from shows, not enough though, that's why he worked here, he had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to, but he didn't have the money for a ring or a wedding, that's why he got the second job.

Ben talked a lot. "Momma says I came outta the womb talkin'," he would say in lieu of an apology. "Jus' up n' babblin', right from the start. Ain't never been able to shut me up since."

After a few days, he finally asked.

"What's up with your name, kid? Didja get 'Ledge' from your momma, or did it find you?"

Ledge didn't answer. Ben waited in silence for a few minutes before a wordless agreement passed between them. The older man jumped into a story - something about a duck and a can of spray paint - seamlessly, as if the silence had never happened.

Ben didn't ask any more personal questions after that.

They spent their nights like that - Ben talking all night, Ledge just listening.

It saved him, in a way, all of the words. At first they were just that - words. But slowly, over months, they built up a little hearth in his chest, warming him from the inside. Ben was like the Sun, giving and giving and giving every day and never taking anything in return. He never expected anything back, didn't even expect Ledge to listen most days, and his carefree warmth restored something in Ledge that he had lost when he was sixteen years old.

For just a few hours every day, stuck in that cold, unforgiving convenience store, Ledge relaxed. He was no longer an impersonal slab of concrete, a pothole on the side of the road, a decrepit stop sign on an upaved back road.

For exactly eight hours, Ledge was a person. He was a boy, he was a book nerd, he liked the color red, he missed his father, he wanted to be loved, he wished he had gone to college, he wanted to play sports and be a jock and have sex and get married to a woman with a whipcord brain.

For the first time since he jumped, Ledge thought, I don't want to die.

The first time Ledge laughed, Ben froze, just for a split second. He jumped right back into his story as if he'd never stopped, but he didn't even try to hold back the huge grin that stretched across his face.

They became sort of friends, after that. They hung out after work - Ben would smoke a cigarette or five and talk about his girl, Delilah, and Ledge would just sit and listen, imagining short dark hair and green eyes.

"You can't even get it, until you've seen 'er," Ben would say. "She's somethin' else. Taller n' Mount Everest - six-foot-three - legs that go on forever, I mean forever, you could look at 'er for ten years and never get to the bottom - kisses like lightnin' man, lightnin' - don't even get me started on the sex - I'm gonna put a ring on her finger n' love her forever - I'd give 'er every star in the sky if she asked…"

Then, a month and a half later, they broke up.

"I was gonna propose, but she said she wanted to talk before I could. I thought, 'It's okay, I'll tell her after. S'prolly somethin' about the vacation we were plannin'.'" He paused, sniffled weakly.

"She wanted me to leave the band," he whispered, seeming dim for the first time since they had met. "She said she needs me to stay in one place. Wants t' settle down, for good. Says she can't handle me bein' on tour all the time, always bein' away from 'er… she even thought I was cheatin', man."

For the first time in the six months they had known each other, Ledge saw him cry. Not nice, pretty, quiet tears; ugly, sobbing cries that wrenched right from his heart and out his chest.

"I loved 'er," he gasped, face twisted like he was in unbearable physical pain. "I still love her. I wanted t' build my life on her, man. I wanted to give her everythin'. But… she… she asked for the one thing I can't give. I can't leave the band. Those guys are my family, man, they're my whole world. She asked me to choose between my heart n' my lungs, and I just couldn't do it."

They sat in the back for another hour like that, Ben crumpled in on himself like a withering flower, Ledge just sitting next to him in silence.

Finally, Ben grew silent, too exhausted to cry any more. He gazed dully at the polished floor beneath them, fingers running over the ring he wore, the one he had almost given to his heart.

"Thank you," he murmured into the space between them, red eyes meeting Ledge's. He nodded, opened his mouth, closed it. He didn't know what to say.

"My name is Shawn," he finally said. Ben sat up a little, and Ledge bit his lip, trying not to look at him out of the corner of his eye. If he thought too hard, or moved, or looked at the man next to him, he would lose his courage.

Ben waited.

"I jumped out of a window. Second story. I was in tenth grade."

Ben blinked, fingers stilling on the ring. "You- what? Why?"

Ledge pressed his lips together, reminding himself that it was okay, this was Ben.

"I… was desperate." He sighed harshly, and suddenly the words were bubbling out of him, and he couldn't stop. "My dad doesn't love me. He never has. Or, maybe he did when I was little, but he doesn't now. I wanted to be noticed. I wanted someone to remember me.

"This kid, he was stupid, it was stupid, he bet me twenty bucks I wouldn't jump out of the window. I… I thought my father would talk to me, if I did. I thought he would punish me, at least. So… I climbed out on the ledge outside the window and I jumped. That's- that's why they called me Ledge. It… stuck, I guess. Maybe with me most of all."

He told Ben about flying, and about Mary, and about how he was a ledge and a pothole and everything else, and about Southern New Hampshire University, and about not being able to cry, and about everything else he could think to say. By the time he was done, he felt full, like somehow instead of leaving his mouth the words had tunneled backwards down his throat into his chest.

Ben was quiet for a bit, before he offered a small, genuine smile. "I don't think you're a ledge, man. For what it's worth. I think you're a person."

For the first time in three years, Ledge cried. Ben cried again too, this time for his friend, wet sobs that sounded almost painful.

Ledge silently thanked whatever god may or may not be out there for giving him the Sun, for giving him this bright, warm friend who didn't care that he wasn't special.

As they cleaned up at the end of their shift, Ben sighed. "I'm gonna quit here," he said, staring down at the mop in his hands. "I was only here for Delilah… jus' to save up for the ring n' the wedding. I stayed here longer than I was plannin' cuz, well. You're here."

And he offered up another smile, the barest glimmer of his usual radiance shining in it.

"But now, I mean… I just don't got any reason to stay longer."

Ledge was silent for a few minutes, just taking this in. He had always known Ben would leave eventually. He was going to leave from the start. It was like he had said - he was only there to save for the ring.

Ledge sighed. Why was he still there? He had enough saved up to move to a better part of town, get a better job. But… he didn't want that. Not really. There was nothing waiting for him there but more work, more sleepless nights, more of being a ledge.

But still, maybe it would be better than staying here for the rest of his miserable life, rotting in one place like an old, forgotten tomato.

"I'll probably quit too," he murmured aloud. Ben stilled, looking very thoughtful for a moment. He continued to mop, slower now, every stroke full of intent.

"How would you feel about joining my band?" He offered it casually, like it didn't matter, like he didn't care what the answer was. The set of his shoulders gave him away, poorly concealed tension revealing what he wished the answer would be.

Ledge blinked. "I- me? Join a band? I can't play a kazoo to save my life."

"You wouldn't have to play! You could be like a sort of… manager. Our last one jus' quit recently, n' we've been lookin' for a new one. Are you any good with numbers?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Then you'll do fine! You'll jus' be manager in name, we'll do all the heavy liftin'. You can live in the studio with us - little building we bought last month, a bit cramped but it's home - and we'll give you a cut of every cent we make, can't always promise consistent payments but by god we'll pay you when we can - you can work a second job, all of us do - if you want you can help us get new gigs, you look like a good persuader - you can stay with us as long as you want - I don't have no one else but you now that Delilah's gone… please, Shawn-"

The sound of his old name, so foreign to him now after so many years, struck Shawn somewhere deep inside him, in a place he didn't even know existed anymore. He stood in silence for only a moment more, weighing the pros and cons, seriously considering the offer.

"Alright," he finally said, watching Ben's face light up like a light bulb. "Okay. I'll join. Where do I sign?"

Ben jumped into the air, pumping a fist with a loud "WHOOO!" The mop clattered to the floor unnoticed, forgotten in the excitement.

Shawn found the man's enthusiasm contagious, and soon they were grinning at each other madly, already making plans to pack and move Shawn's stuff to the studio.

"We're gonna make it big, man," Ben said, shining like the Sun in mid August. "I promise you, we're gonna make it. We're gonna live like kings, man. And everybody's gonna know our names."

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

When he was twenty-one years old, they got their first major gig. They had survived so far on playing at small bars and open mics, taking tips where they could, even busking on the street when things got really thin.

Shawn found that he rather liked being the band's manager. Organizing the schedule was soothing for him; he had control over something for the first time in his life. Working out the financial side was easy too. The numbers never lied, even when they were depressing, and math had never been a struggle for him.

After two years of raising awareness - passing out flyers, creating a social media page, and taking whatever openings they could - Where We Were finally, slowly but surely, began to pick up more followers.

In May, Shawn opened the email he had created for the band. He made it a habit to check it at least once a day. Usually the page was depressingly empty, but today, there was an email from an address he didn't recognize - "bhrofficial." Curious, Shawn clicked on the message.

As he read through, he felt his heartbeat quicken. It couldn't be real. It couldn't. They only had two thousand followers on their Instagram and Twitter accounts, less than that on Spotify. There was no way it was real.

Please be real.

A few minutes and a quick google search later, he was rocking back and forth in his chair, unable to stop the smile that split across his face.

"Benny," he called urgently, shooting up from his chair. "Benny, you gotta come look at this. Ben!"

The older man ducked into the room, holding some old equipment. "Hey man, what's up-?"

Wordlessly, Shawn moved aside and pointed at the computer screen, practically vibrating with nervous excitement. Ben carefully set down the equipment, then bent over the table to read.

His jaw dropped open just slightly as he scanned over the email. He looked to Shawn, eyes wide, disbelief etched across his face. Shawn just nodded excitedly, lost for words.

"Is it real?" Ben whispered, as if afraid speaking too loud would make the email magically disappear.

"Yeah, I checked the website and that's their official email. It's real. We have a real gig."

They just grinned at each other for a moment, filled with excitement that had nowhere to go. Then, Ben was hugging him, and he was hugging back, and then they were spinning around the room in a crazed dance, laughing wildly.

"We got a gig!" Ben shouted. "Oh my god, we got a- I don't even-"

He took Shawn's face in his hands, kissing him soundly on the lips. Shawn could only grin up at him in response, and then they were dragging each other out of the room, racing to the kitchen, yelling for the other members.

Over the time they had lived together in the studio, things had changed between them. It had happened slowly but surely, the space between them shifting from friendship to brotherhood to… something else. They hadn't put a label on it, hadn't talked about it, but they both knew it was there. This wasn't the first time they had kissed - Ben would get excited, overwhelmed with emotion, and it would just kind of… happen.

The first time, Ben had immediately frozen, looked guilty and a bit afraid. But Shawn had laughed, and leaned in to give him a tentative peck in return, and Ben knew it was okay, that they were okay.

For the second time in his life, Ledge had thought, I don't want to die.

Ever since then, it was almost routine. Shawn found that he looked forward to it every time, found himself hoping for it.

He expected to have a crisis over his sexuality, but it never came. He liked Ben. Loved him, even, maybe. That was all that mattered. He didn't care what it meant or didn't mean about him, because it was Ben, and he was the Sun, and he was warm and soft and kind and messy, and Shawn was just grateful that he got to love him.

The rest of the band knew about it; it was hard to keep something like that secret when you've lived together in close quarters for almost two years. They'd never officially announced it, never put it into words, but somehow Shawn just… knew. A well timed pat to his shoulder told him he was accepted, a fist bump and a slap to his back said that he was a part of the band, no matter what, always and forever.

"We got a gig at the Blue Hill Resort," Ben said excitedly, hands constantly moving from his hips to the air in front of him to Shawn's shoulders, unable to stay still. His energy was contagious; soon they were all laughing, slapping each other on the back, cheering.

"How soon?" Jane, the drummer, asked. She was a thin slip of a woman, but she could knock a grown man flat on his back in ten seconds. Shawn had quickly learned to both respect and fear her.

"Three weeks."

Abu whistled, long and low. "That's a bit tight. We'll have to rehearse every day… but we should be able to make it."

Abu was tall, built like an ox, with broad shoulders and big hands. He played the bass with surprising precision and tenderness, rarely ever missing a note.

Abu was the oldest of the group at thirty-five. Once, when he was nearly passed out drunk, he told Shawn that he didn't have anything left except for the band. All of his dreams were spent, too far out of his reach, left behind with his twenties. This group, this family, was all that was left for him.

"We've got it in the bag," Mark jumped in, flexing his fingers in anticipation. He could draw sounds from a keyboard that Shawn never knew existed - odd, discordant notes somehow blended together into eerily beautiful harmony. "We're gonna blow this out of the park!"

"We'll have to decide what songs to play." That was Drea - best rhythm guitarist in New Hampshire, Ben would always say. She was always the most focused of them all. She kept them on track - without her, they probably would have fallen apart ages ago.

"I, uh. I actually wrote a song… if- well, I was thinking maybe we could have it on the roster?"

All eyes turned to Shawn, surprise written on most of their faces. Only Ben was unaffected, having known about the secret project for a while.

"S'good," he commented, slinging an arm around Shawn's shoulder. "I give it my vote."

Abu grinned. "It's settled then. Show us this new song of yours, kid."

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Shawn took a deep breath in, let it out slowly. This was it. This was the day. They had practiced like mad, twice a day for the last week straight, but he didn't feel the slightest bit prepared. He wasn't even the one going up onstage, but he could feel knots forming in his stomach like balls of lead, heavy and cold.

Ben clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a confident smile. "We're gonna knock them offa their fuckin' asses, man. Jus' you wait."

Shawn didn't feel even a bit less anxious, but he smiled anyway, leaning up to kiss Ben softly on the cheek. Ben froze, flushed - Shawn had never initiated before.

"For good luck," Shawn whispered, unable to hold back a smile.

Ben rubbed the back of his neck, flustered, then rewarded the kiss with a blindingly bright smile. "Yeah."

"C'mon, lovebirds, we gotta get set up," Jane drawled, leaning against the wall with a teasing smile. The two sprang apart, and she laughed heartily.

"You go on ahead n' sit in the audience," Ben said, giving him a look that said everything they didn't have time to put into words, probably couldn't even if they did have time. "We'll take care of everythin' back here."

Shawn nodded, hoping Ben could see the response in his own face. The older man smiled softly, and he knew the message had gotten across.

He found his seat in the front row and prayed to whatever was or wasn't out there that they would do well.

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It was a huge fucking success.

When the band finished their song roster, the crowd cheered wildly, calling for not one but two encores.

Finally, Ben had to take the mic, waving a hand for the crowd to quiet down. "S'been a pleasure playin' for you all, but I'm afraid our time's up-" the crowd booed loudly- "I know, I know, I wish we could stay too! But we gotta go. Thank you, we've been Where We Were. Have a great night and stay rockin', everyone!"

The roar of the crowd was deafening, noise that felt like it shook the room all the way up to its rafters. Shawn cheered along with them, winding through the surging crowd to the backstage area, meeting the band there.

Ben kissed him on the lips, right in front of everyone, and Shawn kissed him back. He didn't even care if the backstage techs caught them. He didn't care about much of anything but Ben, at that moment.

They stumbled to the dressing room, the rest of the band still putting away the equipment and rolling their eyes at the two, and then they were pressed against each other, kissing, and it wasn't like before, it wasn't a quick stolen peck in the studio, it was hard and hungry and real. It said we fucking did it, it said I love you for forever, it said a million other things they couldn't put into words.

Shawn smiled, he couldn't help it; and then they were both grinning, far too wide to keep kissing. Shawn laughed, feeling light and free and alive.

"We got lucky, huh?" He said, curling his hand around the back of Ben's neck. At the questioning look sent his way, he continued, "that your previous manager quit when they did. Otherwise, I never would have joined the band, and we never would have ended up here."

Ben smiled, the mischievous kind of smile you give when you have a secret.

"What?" Ben just kissed him again, and Shawn laughed, pulling back. "Benny, spit it out, what is it?"

"We never had a manager." He had the conscience to look at least a little sheepish, but mostly he just looked proud.

"You- what? But you said-"

"I needed you to join the band, man, I didn't know how else to get you to say yes. And it wasn't entirely a lie! We had talked about hiring someone for the position before, we had just... Never found the right person. Not until you."

Shawn lightly punched Ben's shoulder, giving him a faux look of disapproval. It only lasted for a moment, though, before they were both bursting out laughing, too high off of their victory to stay serious for long.

Then they were pressed against the counter, and Ben was tugging on his shirt and kissing his jawline and murmuring, "is this okay?" and Shawn was nodding, because it was Ben, of course it was, and he'd been waiting for this for so, so long without even realizing it.

Shawn's shirt was halfway off, Ben's lips on his neck, when there was a knock on the door, and Abu called in, "All decent in there, kids?"

"Finish this at home?" Ben asked, and Shawn wanted to say you are my home, but he knew what Ben meant, so he just nodded and touched the older man's face gently instead.

And Ben laughed, and said yes, get the fuck in here, Abu, and he pulled Shawn out with him past the ox who played the bass, and out of the dressing room and through the halls and out the front door, all the way to his car.

They got in, Ben laughing and Shawn crying a little because they had made it, god damnit they had made it, and in the agreement with the Blue Hill Resort they were promised seven thousand dollars, and Shawn had a future, and he knew where he wanted to go and who he wanted to go there with.

They were still laughing, and flirting, and celebrating when they pulled out of the parking lot. Shawn decided to be brave, decided that Ben was worth it, so he put his hand tentatively on the older man's thigh.

Ben looked surprised for a moment, and then he was smiling, and he was looking at Shawn like he was the only thing in the world, and he didn't see the semi barreling towards them, the tired driver who didn't process that he was drifting into cross traffic until just a few seconds too late.

Ben was smiling, and then he was lurching to the side as the semi hit just behind his door, and then the windows were shattering and his head was hitting the dashboard and then they were rolling, and Shawn's vision was blurring, and he was hitting the pavement all over again, black asphalt coming up to say it missed him, and where had he been, and why had he waited so long to jump again?

And suddenly he was sixteen again, with a broken wrist and broken fingers and a fractured arm and a concussion and a sprained ankle, and he was back on the ledge, and he had never really left, he had been there ever since the moment he climbed out of that window, and Mary was telling him the timing wasn't right, and SNHU was sending him a cold, impersonal rejection letter, and then he was lying in a ditch in a mangled car, his seatbelt digging painfully into his ribs.

Ledge forced his eyes open. Everything hurt. Something smelled like it was burning, but he couldn't think, couldn't tell what.

He managed to tilt his head sideways just a little, earning himself a sharp jolt of pain.

Ben lay sprawled over the steering wheel, a large shard of glass from the shattered windshield punched through his right eye and out the back of his head. Blood dribbled down his face and onto the dashboard. He wasn't smiling anymore.

It looked like some weird cartoon, it was such an odd angle, and Ledge was laughing, and then he was sobbing, and then he was throwing up, and then he saw the fire, and it was on the hood of the car, and it was moving steadily towards him, and he couldn't move, he couldn't move, he couldn't move.

For the third time in his life, Ledge thought, I don't want to die.

But the fire inched closer still, and his heavy limbs refused to move, and then it was in the cab of the car, and then it was catching his pant leg, and then it was on him, and he was screaming, agony grating through his veins, and then it was going dark, and he couldn't force his eyes to stay open any longer.

As his consciousness faded away and his mind blanked out into white noise, a thought occurred to Ledge.

Surrounded by fire, breathing out his last, he thought that he had always been a ledge. It hadn't started when he was sixteen. It had started much, much earlier. He couldn't say when.

He thought what cruel irony it was that he was born a ledge, and now after everything he would die as one. Or maybe… he had never stopped being one, even in the in between moments. He was doomed to be un-special forever. He had always known that, from the very start.

He knew, deep inside, that no one would remember him. The news would cover the crash briefly, and then life would move on. The band would find a new manager. The world would continue to march on without him.

Everything faded to silence.

#written by me #my work #do not repost #give cred if used #writeblr #writing #original story #short story #original work #5798 words #tw depression #tw suicidal thoughts #tw mild gore #franz writes

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subspencer · 3 years

Text

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

taglist: @suburban--gothic @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @amoeebaa @reidingmelodies

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds self insert

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obscureamor · 3 years

Text

— quiet

♡˖°꒰ ukai keishin x fem! reader

❥ t/w | nsfw, public sex, exhibitionism, daddy kink, mentions of keishin drinking, light choking, 18 y/o manager, spiritual successor to ‘gold’

» certain feelings are revealed after keishin sneaks into your room at training camp.

The room is dully illuminated, faint slithers of moonlight creeping in from gaps in the curtains. Your eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, but every touch of his hands on your body feels like ecstasy. You can hear his gruff pants loud in your ear, the way he groans your name as you moan.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters, drawn-out and breathy. “I need you to be quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that?”

Keishin’s voice is soft as he speaks into your ear. It’s such a contrast to the way he’s thrusting into you. He’s hitting deep, strokes short and your eyes flit over to Kiyoko as she murmurs incoherent words in her sleep. The image of her is obscured with every snap of Keishin’s hips, your body moving with each thrust and eyes clouding with tears at all the sensations.

His voice. Your friend right next to you. It all makes your head spin, giving you whiplash as you clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds leaving you. Keishin isn't supposed to be here and when he said he had a surprise for you tonight— you didn’t think he meant this.

Your eyes snap shut to try and focus on everything around you. Keishin smells of cigarettes and booze with a dash of mint. It hits you all at once with his face against your neck, lips latched onto the junction of your shoulder while he sucks deep bruises into the skin. A harsh bite has you keening into your hand at the sensation causing a curse to leave his mouth at the alluring sound.

His hands grip your hips tight, so tight you can feel his blunt nails digging into your skin, little crescent shapes being engraved into the flesh. It makes you shiver, puffy lips parting as you pant out allowing drool to leak onto the pillow. The cold metal of the ring on his finger burns you, brands itself into your skin and all you can think about is—

Keishin. Keishin. Keishin. Keishin.

“Kei... Kei, I—” your words are cut off when he shifts his hips, hitting that spot deep inside you. Your hands shakily fall to his biceps, nails sinking into the skin and your thighs snap inward when his hand falls to your hard little clit. His thumb is moving in circles and your walls just greedily suck him in.

“Look at her...” he hisses, “look at her when you cum all over daddy’s cock.”

It’s embarrassing. Your skin feels hot. Your mind feels muddled. And you look at Kiyoko, heated cheek pressed into your pillow as you admire her features. Her soft lips are parted, silky hair fanned out around her as she lays on her back. The usual glasses she wears are placed neatly beside her and—

“Shit, shit, shit, oh god!” you whine out as Keishin pinches your clit harshly.

“Shut up…” He breathes out, hand coming to wrap around your mouth. His eyes are locked onto your center before he stops his movements altogether— robbing you of your end. A sob leaves you, eyes tightly clenching shut and tears now leak down your face. There’s a moment of silence before you open them again, locking eyes with him almost immediately. “You’re always so fucking loud.”

‘M’sorry, M’sorry’ oozes from your mouth. It’s muffled and muddled like the lines that are being crossed, lines that no one seems to care about anymore and the longer you stare at Kiyoko the more you realize you’d gladly do anything for Keishin— he knows it too.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your sloppy pussy right next to your best friend.” He rolls his hips into you, the words leaving him in a whisper. Somehow his voice drops even more with his next words, “You must really love me, huh?”

You do.

You both know you do and he loves you just as equally… maybe even more. Keishin’s hand leaves your face to grasp yours, fingers lacing before placing them down beside your face on the side furthest from Kiyoko. He noses at your neck, flesh being bitten softly as he thrusts into you steadily.

“Keishin,” you keen. “Faster, please, please, please, daddy. I promise— promise I’ll be quiet, I just—”

He knows you like it rough, like it when he drives into you so harshly you can’t breathe and your eyes roll back into your skull. He knows you like it when you have finger-shaped bruises on your hips the next day from him grabbing you so roughly. He pulls back, lips curling into a smirk at your fucked out ramblings. “You want daddy to pound into this little pussy?”

“Yeah, daddy… fucking ruin me.” His eyes widen. “Ruin me, please,” you repeat.

There’s not a second wasted as Keishin's free hand comes up to wrap around your throat. His hips snap into yours with such harshness you know you’re going to be sore tomorrow. The chain around your neck catches his eyes as it glimmers with every jolt of your body. The branding ‘K’ and gold ring reminding him of every little thing you two have done together. He can distantly hear you saying his name, crying it out as if he’s your god— the very and only thing you worship.

There’s a dull papping that makes its way through the room and the both of you wonder how none of the faculty in the room over has woken yet. In some fucked up way Keishin hopes they can hear you, hopes the coaches that were talking about your tight little body can hear that he’s the only one who gets to ruin it, claim it, own it.

He needs them to know that all of you belongs to him and he knows he can say the same for himself. Keishin knows he doesn’t express it as much as he should but— he’s yours. The thoughts cause him to lean in, lips capturing yours as you moan into his mouth. His hand squeezes yours three times, each for a single word he still has so much trouble saying; I. Love. You.

You’re so lost in each other you forget about the other person in the room, sounds being swallowed by your mouths and sweet nothings whispered in your ear. In the corner of your eye, you see movement— Keishin notices it too.

Kiyoko’s moving.

She’s facing you now and your breath hitches when she reaches out blindly to grab for your hand. There’s a whine that leaves her unconscious state when she can’t find it. You can tell beneath her eyelids her eyes are flickering almost as if they’re searching around for you and in an effort to keep her asleep, you reach out. Her hand is soft in yours and it’s such a contrast to Keishin’s calloused hands. The ones that are holding onto you as he slams into you roughly right now.

You can see her mouth moving, lips forming your name and you try to wrestle your hand out of Keishin’s grip, needing something— anything —to muffle the sounds about to leave your mouth. You can feel the hand wrapped around your throat squeeze before moving up to your jaw, turning your head to the side to face Kiyoko. You can only wonder what her reaction would be like if she woke up right now, wonder what her face would look like at the sight of the team’s coach fucking you brainless.

“Daddy, lemme look at you, please…” you mutter, lip being bitten raw as you swallow all your sounds.

At the sight, his thumb falls onto your bottom lip pulling it out between your teeth before speaking, “Naw, don’t do that... Let daddy hear those sweet sounds before he cums, alright?”

You hum and Keishin’s body seems even closer than before like he’s melted into you as his pelvis rubs against your clit. The friction has you holding Kiyoko’s hand even tighter— mind not even worried about the consequences —and when she whines out your name in her sleep, your walls just pulse and cream around his cock. You cry out his name only to be muffled by his mouth, by his tongue as it laps at every crevice as if he’s never kissed you before. His cock twitches when you bite down on his lip and warmth fills you when he catches sight of the glimmering ‘K’ resting between your tits.

Keishin pulls out one last time before pushing back in swiftly. He hisses when your walls clench at the action and you can feel his cum seep down beneath you both. He lets out a curse at the sight; your pretty pussy stuffed to the brim with his cum. Even though he’s seen it so many times, he’ll never get over it.

Your tired eyes flicker about, taking everything in. Kiyoko’s still asleep even with her hand almost being crushed by your death grip. The rustling of her blankets is the only thing that can be heard apart from your breathing. Her hand pulls away from yours as she turns over, away from you, away from Keishin and it’s only now that you register his hand toying with your necklace.

“Keishin… I—”

“I’m—”

You both go to speak, cutting each other off, and instead of attempting again— you don’t. He places his head on your chest, fingers still fiddling with the chain. Immediately, your hands move to run through his hair, the thought of what you were both about to say festering in your minds.

He needs to tell you. He has to tell you. And so he does.

“I’m tired of hiding this shit,” Keishin speaks so suddenly, determination laced in his voice. “One day… I’ll put a ring on your finger, not on some fucking chain where nobody can see it.”

Doubt flows through him when you don’t respond. It has him second-guessing himself, mouth opening to try and save whatever you have left, but he stops when he hears you take a shuddering breath.

“I’d like that,” you whisper through a watery smile, “a lot actually...”

It’s quiet after. The both of you relish in each other’s company, forgetting about where you are at that very moment. Completely content and you know in the morning you’ll have to pretend like this never happened… like you’re not in love with Ukai Keishin.

» a/n | happy valentine’s day! i’m sending everyone lots of love and smooches! i hope you enjoyed this! (つω`｡)♡

#haikyuu x reader #ukai keishin x reader #ukai x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #nads! nads! indulges!#ukai/manager au #tw daddy kink #tw public sex #tw exhibitionism

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darkmulti · 3 years

Note

I see your request is open for hc yay!

Can i request A!JKxO!Reader where jK has a huge dick and reader is a virgin and also his mate. So JK marries her and forcefully deflowered her and forcing orgasms out of her (bleeding/blood play while deflowering her is up to you). She found out JK’s obsessions of forcing orgasms out of hers until she passed out every night. JK also has a breeding and breastfeeding kink so he wanna knock her up just so he can breastfeed on her. He locked her up, all the time he spends with her is used to breed her while forcing as many orgasms out of her. Ok thats too long of an ask, sorry.. 🥺 thanks! 💜

-> I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH SHAUSHSHS

⚠️: NON CON, mention of blood, breeding kink, breast feeding kink, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia kink, angst, death, murder, slapping, somnophilia kink, rough sex

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Virgin!reader

-> sorry for any mistakes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your breed and Jungkook’s breed are not on good terms

The reason why is because your breed have better senses and are a lot stronger

Jungkook’s breed is the second strongest and let me tell you, they don’t like second place

Since they outdo your breed in numbers, they travel around in large packs and kill wolves your kind

If they eliminate all of you, they’ll be on top

Your parents raised you to stay away from them

They’re just trying to keep you safe because you’re their only child

They allowed you to explore the forest, but you couldn’t go too far

They still needed to be able to smell you out

You’re parents also told you howl if you felt like you were in danger

And you can only explore during the day time

Once it’s night, you must stay close to your parents so they can protect you

One day, you were sitting close to edge of a cliff

This was your favourite spot because it gave the perfect view of the sun setting

10 minutes later, you decided to go back to your pack only to be horrified by the scene

Your pack… everyone was dead

Blood everywhere

Bite marks all over their body

You walked into the crime scene more and saw your parents dead on the ground, next to each other

You immediately burst out into tears, not believing what you’re seeing

“Mom! Mom, please! Wake up!” You nudged her but it was too late

You sat down in between your parents and grieved the whole night

Why couldn’t they kill you too?

You were about to close your eyes but, caught an unfamiliar scent

Your natural instincts kicked in and you got up

You started looking around but that’s when something attacked you from behind

You fall to the ground and knock out after they give you one hard blow to the head

The next morning, you woke up in a bed

You frantically looked around, trying to put the pieces together, but that’s when he popped out of no where

His scent didn’t fail to reach you and once you inhaled it, you remembered all the traumatizing events of last night

Your heart rate increased and you immediately started to panic

“Where’s my mom?! Where am I?! Take me home!”

You started to freak out

“My mom told me to stay away from monsters like you! Leave me alone!”

You let out a piercing howl and made a run for it

However, Jungkook was faster and much, much stronger

He got a hold of your wrist and dragged you back to the room

He quickly pulled out his phone and shoved it in your face

You were squirming around at first but once you heard a familiar cry, you stopped

Jungkook was showing you live footage of wolves your breed, tied up god knows where and howling for help

Your heart crumbled into a million pieces

“W-why are you doing this to us?” You choked on your sobs while watching your breed beg for mercy

“Marry me, and I’ll let them go.”

You looked at him, appalled

“Marry? I won’t marry you. After you killed my family, you want to get married?!”

You pushed him away from you and slapped him

Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue and quickly dialed a number

“Kill them all.”

You look up wide eyed and shouted “No!”

“You don’t wanna marry me so, now I have to kill them.”

“Wait! No! I’ll marry you! Please set them free!”

Jungkook smirked in victory and told his buddies to stop

“Wedding is tomorrow. Everything is planned, all you have to do is get all dolled up for me and say “I do.”

He left your room as you sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping your tears away

The next day was the worst day of your life

They woke you up early so, they could start getting you ready for the wedding

Once you said “I do” at the alter and signed the paper, Jungkook lips turned into a evil grin

After sealing your marriage with your first kiss, Jungkook drove you both back to your new house

Once you got inside you turned around and faced him

“I did what you asked. I got married to you and now, I’m your mate. You got what you wanted. Now show me live footage that you’re letting the wolves go.”

“You’re so cute, y’know? You really fell for it. The footage wasn’t live. Those wolves have been dead for a while. I could show you the footage of me killing them, if you’d like.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach

“What do you mean? It wasn’t real?!”

“You’re so naive, little one.”

You look at him, dumbfounded

“Why did you kill all of them? Why did you kill my pack? I just don’t understand. Why did you kill all of them just to marry me in the end?”

“Lower your voice, I don’t like being talked to in that way.”

“Go fuck yourself!” You yelled and turned around to leave

He pulled you back and carried you downstairs to the basement while you kept thrashing and yelling

“Let me go, you sick bastard! I don’t want to be near you. Your scent is disgusting!”

You made the worst mistake of your life that night

That was the first time you made him angry

He tried controlling himself but, after you insulted his scent, he wasn’t going to go easy on you

One hard slap after another shut you up pretty quickly

Now, you were terrified of him

Your cheeks were warm and stinging as hot tears glided down

All you could think was “why?”

Why was this happening to you?

Why was only your breed being targeted?

Why did he kill all those wolves?

It mentally tore you apart

You couldn’t wrap your head around anything going on

Before you could fight back, Jungkook got on top of you and pulled your dress down

“W-what’re you doing?!” You quickly grab your dress and struggled to keep it up

“No! No, please! I’m not ready! Please, I’m not ready! I hate you!”

You began to panic, so naturally you howled

“Please! I want my first to be someone I love! Please, don’t do this to me! I’ve never done anything bad in my life! You can kill me if you’d like!”

Crying and fighting wasn’t enough to stop Jungkook

He pushed his whole length in and started fucking you hard without letting you adjust

You frantically cover your breast and private part with your hands but he flipped you around and took you from behind

You felt disgusting and worthless

Your blood was streaming down your thigh and it covered his cock

Jungkook grabbed your ripped wedding dress and wiped up all the blood so, you’ll never forget this day

He threw it in front of you to make you feel even more bad about yourself

You looked away from the dress and focused on your breathing

The speed he was going at was unbearable therefore, it was quite hard to catch your breath

You started to cry for help, calling for anyone who was brave enough to save you

Jungkook’s size wasn’t easy to adjust to

It felt like you were being ripped apart

Especially because it was your first time

“P-please! S-slower! I can’t-”

Your voice cracked in between your sobs

You felt his cock grow inside of you and his tip began rubbing against your cervix

The pain was too much to handle so, you started to cry harder

“No! Too much! I can’t take it!” You wailed, trying to move away from him

He pulled you right back and went as deep as he possibly could

You came around him and thought it was over

Little did you know, it was just the beginning

Hours later, you were under him sobbing hysterically

You were filled with his cum to the point where it was leaking out of you

There was literally a puddle of cum in between your legs

You had bruises all over your arms and body because of his tight grip

And his strong scent made your head spin

You were a helpless, mess

Hickeys covered your neck, collarbone and jawline

Your lips were swollen from all the rough kisses

Your clit was burning from overstimulation

Your cheek was red and bruised

But, Jungkook didn’t plan on stopping

You felt like you were going to pass out when suddenly ripples of forced pleasure pushed through your body

You held your breath and tried fighting off the feeling but it was impossible

You started to cry more, not being able to handle the fierce orgasm

You sobbed uncontrollably, not know what was happening to your body

Before you could open your eyes again, you passed out

Jungkook hovered over you again and fucked you 10x harder after watching you spasm around him

He didn’t care that you were unconscious

You looked so hot in that moment, he couldn’t resist

This continued on for the rest of the year until he purposely impregnated you

If his offspring had a mix of his genes and a mix of your genes, it’d definitely be one of the strongest wolves to ever live

You were crying so hard, telling him to stop because you weren’t on anything

After you found out you were pregnant, he blamed it on you

“You have one fucking job and it was to take your pill.”

“I ran out of pills and I told you that night! I told you to stop. Jungkook, I tried my best to warn you but you didn’t listen-”

He pushed you back on the bed and forced another orgasm out of you, not caring about your pregnancy

You couldn’t fight him off so, you stayed still and hoped for the best

You didn’t want to stress out because it would be bad for your baby

Although you were pregnant, Jungkook demanded sex

Even when you were 8 months pregnant, he still fucked you as hard as he could

You were in so much pain but handled it for your child

The next month, you gave birth

You were obviously new to the mom life and it was quite difficult to adjust

Usually, women have to wait 4-6 weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse

The doctor explained it to both you and Jungkook, so it’s not like he doesn’t know

After you breast feed your newborn son, you tuck him into bed and go to your shared bedroom

You were still in a lot of pain and really wanted some rest

Jungkook was out hunting and when he came home, he was a bit intoxicated

You smelt the alcohol the moment he stepped in the house

He stumbled his way upstairs and slammed the door shut, scaring your newborn

Your son started to cry so you quickly got up to put him back to sleep but Jungkook didn’t allow you

“See what you’ve done? You wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you had just taken your pill.”

You ignored him and went to your son’s room to put him back to sleep

Jungkook followed you to his room and pulled you out before you could pick up your son

“Did you listen to what I said? I’m fed up with this attitude of yours.”

“Let’s not fight in front of him. We’ll talk in the room.”

You escaped his grip and put your son back to sleep

When you enter your room, you see Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his belt in hand

Your heart dropped to your stomach

“N-not today. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.”

He scoffed, “do you really think I give a shit?”

He raised his voice a little and you gestured him to keep it down

“Don’t yell, he’s sleeping.”

“This is my house, I can talk however I’d like.”

There was no winning against him, especially if he’s intoxicated

You thought you could hold him off for the night until he’s sober again, but you were completely wrong

You were going to your side of the bed when he whipped his belt below your butt

He pulled you by the hair onto the bed and pulled down your night shorts

“I can’t, Jungkook! It hasn’t been 4 weeks! No!”

Jungkook always gets what he wants

His body weight kept you down as his cock plunged deep inside your cunt

You haven’t healed properly, so the pain was intolerable

You covered your mouth with your hand and sobbed

You still needed to be quiet but it hurts so bad

You pushed your face into your pillow and attempted to let out quiet whimpers

“It hurts! Please, slower!” You whispered

Jungkook purposely went faster and the skin slapping was so loud, you were afraid it’d wake up the baby

You were gasping for air, trying to get his body weight off of you so you could breathe normally

An hour after, you had another orgasm

You clutched onto the bedsheets and tried your hardest to remain silent

Jungkook came inside you again and collapsed on top of you, making you groan

He grabbed your right breast and began sucking as hard as he could until milk squirted onto his tongue

You tried squirming around to get him off, but the more resistant you are the more aggressive he gets

In the end, you passed out like always

You kept your distance from him and gave all your attention to your son

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him 24/7

So, he gave your son to his parents for a full month and kept you locked up in the basement

For that whole month, he fucke you senselessly

You were having orgasms every night; you couldn’t do it anymore

He’d bite down on your nipples and manhandle you all sorts of ways

You were exhausted but your son’s life was always on the line

Jungkook could easily hurt him

He doesn’t really care about your son

(I mean, he does but he acts like he doesn’t so he can use it against you.)

Jungkook only looks at your son as your weakness

He’ll make you have three orgasms in a row and if you tell him to stop or slow down, he mentions your son and it immediately shuts you up

He loved having so much power over you

He could literally fuck you for the rest of your life

You didn’t understand why this was happening to you, but there was nothing that you could do about it

There’s no one that could help you and even if there was, Jungkook will always one step ahead

No one dares to mess with him

I know this has lots of mistakes. I’m so sorry😭

#non con #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut

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juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Dulcis Part 2

Here we are everyone - part 2 - please be warned that this doesn't have a happy ending (I don't think anyone expected there to be a happy ending for this story) and I understand that this is quite toxic. So no hard feelings if you're not into that - go ahead and scroll past it. I took some liberties with Carols job, I don't actually remember whether or not her career is mentioned in the movie so it is what it is.

To everyone who took a moment to comment / reblog / message me about this story - thanks so much and I hope you enjoy.

Thanks to my ladies for letting me send you paragraph upon paragraph of my Dave filth. @frannyzooey @foli-vora @mouthymandalorian

Dave (Murder Daddy) York x F!Reader

Pairing: David York x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5K (are we even surprised at this point)

Warnings: **TRIGGER WARNING** NSFW 18+ INFIDELITY! (reader is engaged, David is married) language, Smut, PIV sex (wrap it up), dirty talk, **daddy kink** oral (f receiving) vaginal fingering, squirting, semi-public sex praise & aftercare, heavy guilt, violence / death- let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist

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It was disorienting when you woke up. This was not your bed, this was not your room, this is not Charlie.

The both of you must have fallen asleep after everything you’d done. Your phone was still beeping, it was what had woken you up in the first place. You looked at the time - it was two am.

Babe? What the hell is going on? Are you okay?

Jesus Christ.

You had six missed calls from Charlie - you had your phone on silent while you and Dave did...your thing. You quickly called him while Dave slept and hoped he wasn’t on his way home.

The guilt was so intense as you laid there, naked with Dave’s cum dried and flaky on the inside of your thighs. The fact that he answered right away made it worse.

“Babe??” He sounded frantic - genuinely worried, which hurt even more.

“Hey- I’m so sorry, I grabbed dinner and then ended up passing out! I was more tired than I thought.” You laughed lightly - trying to keep your voice down so as not to wake Dave. This all felt so wrong and you suddenly wanted to be far away from everyone and everything. You could hear Jack in the background telling Charlie he was being ridiculous.

“Just glad you’re okay - we usually talk before bed and I was worried that we barely spoke today. Just being paranoid I guess.” You could hear his worry and his relief at having heard from you. Dave turned to face you and you gave him a look that said quiet,he lifted his eyebrows at you. Scooting closer to you.

“Yeah I’m okay babe it’s all good. I’m sorry I wasn’t talkative today-” Your voice hitched at the end of your sentence when Dave started kissing your neck. His hand rubbing at the soft skin of your belly, slowly making its way up to cup your breast possessively. You swallowed hard, this was too much. Charlie kept speaking but you had a lump in your throat as you tried to tell Dave to stop with a look.

He ignored you. Charlie was telling you about his day while Dave made his way between your legs, putting your them on his shoulders. You were trying to close them as Charlie's voice sounded in your ear, but he held them open. He ran a finger through your folds, collecting your arousal and making a show of tasting you.

“That’s awesome babe - did you have fun?” You tried to keep your voice normal but he was kissing your thighs and spreading you open. He looked up at you through his lashes as he speared you with two thick fingers, curling them just so. It was hard to focus with him hitting that spongy spot inside you that made you see stars. You could hear the wet noises your cunt was making and the blush crept up your chest.

“Sorry babe I’m so tired, let me call you tomorrow - love you!” You were trying to close your legs and Dave let you, putting them together over one shoulder. His fingers didn’t stop however, it only made you tighter, made you feel him more this way.

You hung up as Charlie said his goodbyes and you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were so close to falling off the cliff. He stopped then when you hung up and you whimpered. He shifted so he was kneeling, holding your legs together in one arm as he guided himself to your opening.

You moaned at the stretch - you’d lost count how many times he’d fucked you and even though your pussy was puffy and sore you didn’t want him to stop. Your arousal flowing freely despite how tired you were.

“Has he ever made you this wet? Does he know how to fuck this pretty pussy? My pretty pussy?” His strokes were slow and thorough, burying himself to the hilt and slowly pulling all the way out, watching himself disappear fully into your slicked cunt. His balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, a soft pap pap pap accompanying the wet sounds of body sucking him in.

How could you still be this turned on? How could you still be leaking slick onto the ruined bedspread after having him inside you so many times? How the fuck could he ask you this right now? You couldn’t answer, not when it felt so good. He didn’t like that though, you knew the rules.

He pulled all the way out and waited until you answered.

“No - no one has ever fucked me like this, no one has ever made me this wet before, please - please make me cum again, please daddy.” You tried to reach up to pull him close to you but he didn’t let you - he guided himself into you once more and set a brutal pace.

He opened your legs wide - holding them by the back of your thighs - just above your knees. He nearly folded your body in half as he pushed your legs up into your chest. The new angle made you wail, he was hitting something deep, something that made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Does that feel good? Look how cock-dumb you are right now, so fucking pretty, taking my dick so well… god, I could fuck this pussy for hours..” He was snapping his hips, hitting your pelvis hard and it was too much, something huge was happening inside you, you felt it in your stomach and it was spreading, blinding you.

It was like you were floating for a moment, suspended in air as felt yourself pushing him out of your body. You shuddered violently and felt the liquid gush of your orgasm between you.

“Fuck baby, fuck that’s so good. So fucking good...my good girl.” He was stroking himself against your ruined cunt, the thick tip of him rubbing your clit as you shuddered. You felt him cum on your mound but you could barely move. He rubbed his cock through your folds, through your combined liquids. You felt tired, bone tired. You felt filthy, never having been this wanton with anyone before - it was scarily satisfying, and you needed comfort.

Maybe it was his depravity, the way he made you mad with lust but you always needed something after and he knew how to give it to you.

He got up and walked over to his bathroom and cleaned himself up, bringing a warm wet rag with him. This is the only thing Dave did gently.

He opened your legs and cleaned you thoroughly, every trace of himself, every drop of your own arousal. You winced slightly, your pussy was sensitive and sore.

“You did so good baby, such a good girl for me. You took me so well - this pussy was made for me. So perfect and pretty and just for me. You know you’re my favourite right?” He rubbed soothing circles over the soft skin of your belly and it made you uncharacteristically needy for him.

“Yes - Just for you.” You repeated softly. You wanted him closer.

He took the blanket out from under you, it was soaked and he tossed it into the hamper beside the dresser, stopping to grab another from the closet. He covered you with it and got into bed beside you. You half expected him to tell you to get dressed but he didn’t, he laid with you and pulled you into his chest. He rubbed soothing circles onto your back while you listened to his heartbeat in your ear.

“Sleep baby, you deserve it. I’ll drive you home in the morning.” He kissed your forehead - the tenderness after everything you’d done was overwhelming. “Do you need some water?” He seemed to remember how long you’d been in bed together and now that he mentioned it you were parched.

“Yes please -” Before you had finished he was up and out of the room. You looked around, felt the bed underneath you. It smelled like sex and sweat and his wife's perfume.

You should have been ashamed of yourself. The guilt was always present and you felt it now but the slithering thing had wrapped itself around it, choking the life out of it and when you saw him walk into the room with a big glass of water and a little smile you couldn’t be bothered.

“Here- drink this and then we can get some sleep.” He watched as you drank, a guilty look flickering across his face when he saw how thirsty you were, you drained the whole glass and handed it back to him. Wiping a few drops from your chin with the back of your hand.

He got into bed behind you and spooned you, you were tucked into his chest - his hand rubbing your arm while you drifted off, you couldn’t remember ever being this comfortable.

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

All the softness was gone the next morning.

You saw it clearly then, there are two versions of Dave - that you know of.

The confident, cocky powerhouse with a big dick that fucks you like a god and makes you see stars through your pussy. The David that is cool, calm and collected - indifferent and laissez faire about you and your life and the destruction he’s wrought.

Then there’s aftercare David. The soft, soothing David. The one that makes you feel safe and calls you his best girl and makes you want to leave everything behind. Makes you want to worship him and do whatever it takes to hear those words.

My good girl, my best girl

But you aren’t a good girl are you, you’re a cheater. You’re a manipulator and your fiance is worrying about you while you’re getting fucked three ways from Sunday in a married man's bed.

The slithering thing has no loyalties - and it turns on you now in the cold light of day.

You think all these things and more as you get dressed, as you gather any evidence of your night with David in his room, in his marital bed and slink away to wait for him to take you home. You vaguely wonder if he’ll fuck Carol in this bed tonight. Will he think of you?

Does he say those filthy things to her? Does he make her beg and plead and call him daddy? Somehow you don’t think so, and if he does - you definitely shouldn’t care.

You’re quiet on the way home, the guilt and the shame are eating you alive. Consuming you from the inside out and every time you think about what you did, what you let him do to you your stomach roils. You want to scrape David out of your mind and out of your body. Exorcise yourself of him. You can’t even bear to look at him and yet you dread getting out of the car.

Your mind and your body are at war, and he can see it. He can see the way your thighs clench and he can imagine that you're remembering scenes from last night. Can see that you won’t look him in the eye.

Charlie texts you then and it compounds the guilt, makes it solid and gives it heft in your stomach.

Hope you slept well - going on a hike with Jack, talk later - love you xo

You text him back quickly, telling him to be careful and that you loved him too. How can you say these words to him when all you’re thinking about is the pleasant ache at your core? When you’re thinking about inviting David inside - to your haven, to Charlies space. You don’t do it though, you can’t.

When you arrive at your building he pulls into a visitors parking spot and you half expect him to say something filthy and leave you on edge all day but what you don't know is that David is excellent at reading people. He saw your thoughts splayed across your face the whole drive home. What you don’t know is that David doesn't like or love you- David is obsessed with you.

David wants to own you and how you feel about that doesn’t matter to him.

He unlocks the doors after the car is parked and he gives you a moment to collect your things, but only a small moment. He turns to look at you and when you reciprocate he leans over - slowly, watching your mouth as he comes closer and closer.

You know he’s giving you time to pull away but you can’t, even now, even after everything you’ve thought about and the horrible thoughts and the guilt. After all that you cannot pull away.

Instead you lean in too, meeting him halfway and he kisses you roughly, biting your lip, crushing his mouth to yours cruelly. A clashing of teeth and tongues and gasps. His kiss is a reflection of how he feels about you, it’s not soft or loving. It’s all consuming and vulgar and his tongue is licking deep into your mouth. He’s pulling a groan out of you and you can’t help but grab at his hair while he does so and it shames you that even now, you crave him.

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David didn’t know when the switch had happened.

There were things he knew for a certainty, first was that his marriage was a sham. Maybe he had felt something for Carol long ago, when they first met and he had married her because she was as good as any to be a cover. With the way he made a living, he needed his home life to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Second was that he was fond of his girls, they were the good parts of him and they were to be protected.

Third was that he needed more of you. He’d had a taste of your heat, of your whimpers as he drove into you. You were so responsive and pliable, you took everything he gave you and you still wanted more.

He needs more.

“All good on that cellphone you asked me to trace.” His colleague dropped off the files on his desk as he finished typing up his report. Now he would know where you were at all times. Would be able to see everything you did on your phone. He could read every text, every email - could see every call.

There was a little part of his brain that genuinely tried to tell him this was wrong. That you were going to get married to someone else - that he had his own family; but then he could see you writhing underneath him, could hear you begging for him to fuck you harder. Telling him you were his and his alone and he couldn’t give that up.

This was better.

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

It was easy to focus on work the week after. You could make the argument that your weekend with Dave made you better. Yeah right.

You planned so many activities for the kids you barely had time to think about anything - including your wedding planning commitments. You had venues to visit, you had cakes to taste and a rehearsal dinner to plan. You decided to throw yourself into that too.

You walked through the grocery store slowly, it was early enough in the day that it was still relatively empty. Your mind bouncing from one trivial thing to the next, going over your list, reminding yourself to do a load of laundry when you get home.

Maybe I'll make pork chops tonight, I really have to clean out the fridge.

It starts out as a prickle across your skin, heavy eyes on you; tracking you through the grocery store. You try to find the source but you can’t so you try to focus on the aisle in front of you. What did you need again?

Peanut butter - that’s right- but it doesn’t go away, it persists until you’re slightly alarmed and you don’t know why.

Your phone dings then and when you check your heart races- it’s Dave.

I want you.

There’s no preamble and you can’t deal with this right now, you can’t just drop everything whenever he messages you; so you ignore it. You’re busy.

When you go to pay the feeling hasn’t gone away, there is something at play here and it’s making you uncomfortable, enough to rush out to your car and look out for your surroundings when you hastily shove your bags into the trunk of your car.

“Why did you ignore me baby?” His voice startles you as you’re closing the trunk. Was it him that had you so keyed up?

“Dave… what are you doing here?” You were a little relieved that it was him, but only a little.

“I came to do some groceries, saw you and texted but you didn’t answer. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were ignoring me, but you aren’t right honey?” He moved closer to you, pinning you with his gaze. There was something cold in his eyes but you felt the arousal burning in your belly regardless.

You’d never know why, but there were warning bells going off in your brain; they were screaming at you to get away as fast as you could but he was staring at your lips and your legs wouldn’t move.

“No, I was just busy. I c-can’t just drop…” your back was curving to get away from him but there was nowhere to go. “I cannot just drop everything when you message me David. I have a life.” You put a little steel into your voice. You were in the middle of the grocery store parking lot for goodness sake.

He didn’t say anything, as he put his hands on your waist - grabbing onto you when he dipped his head to place a chaste kiss on your exposed collar bone. It flustered you and you had to bite the soft sigh but it came out anyway. You were lost then.

He led you to the backseat of your car and opened the door, sitting you inside with your legs still outside the car. The words were at the back of your throat, stuck behind your molars, coming forth to the tip of your tongue but never further. Your mind tried desperately to rebel, to shake you like an unruly child and snap you out of your madness but your body was pliable, changeable to his proverbial wind.

Instead you sat with him crouched in front of you just outside the car - his hands undoing your jeans and bringing them down along with your panties to leave you bare to anyone who happened to look inside your car. It was exhilarating and terrifying the way you let this man expose you this way.

“This pretty little pussy has been on my mind since our special weekend.” you could only open your legs slightly with your jeans around your knees. Enough for him to glide his fingers along your puffy lips, your arousal just bleeding through your folds. You watched him touch you, your body doing absolutely nothing to stop him. “It’s mine isn’t it?” He asked and you vaguely registered yourself nodding as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Look how hard you make me baby, constantly craving this wet cunt.” You could see the heft of him when he palmed himself. The outline of his dick pronounced enough to make you groan. He leaned forward to taste you, parting your seam with his tongue, gliding it against your clit. You moaned out and ran your fingers through his hair, the rest of the world and your surroundings forgotten with the action. He couldn’t get enough, pushing his face harder into your mound to get deeper but it wasn’t enough.

Instead he told you to move into the car so he could sit in your backseat, moving your driver's seat up to make room for his legs and you rushed to obey.

That was the word wasn’t it? That’s what you make me do, obey.

The thought came to you but it almost felt like it was someone else in your mind - explaining it to you as you struggled to get at least one leg free from the confines of your jeans. When he finally sat in the backseat you frantically pulled at his zipper, grasping his cock in your hand and lowering yourself onto him as quickly as you could.

You shared a groan when he was fully sheathed by your wet heat. He bucked up quickly, the both of you so close already; the knowledge that anyone could look in and see you riding him at any time only served to make you leak onto his lap. It made his cock twitch to think that you wanted him enough to let him take you like this - out in the open.

You were just as frantic as you rolled your hips, your fingers clutching at his shirt, his hair, his shoulders; whatever you could reach. His hand snaked up and he wrapped it around your throat, applying the barest amount of pressure and you moaned.

“Fuck baby, you like this? Does my good girl like when I grab her throat?” He squeezed a little and your body answered him by dripping more arousal onto his lap. Your cunt definitely liked it.

“Look at how wet you get, fuck. Are you mine baby?” He asked as he put a little more force into his movements. His feet were planted firmly as he bucked up, you moaned a yes daddy as he held you tightly. “Rub your clit, make yourself cum on my big dick.” He moaned into your ear and once again you obeyed. When your pussy fluttered with your orgasm his thrusts became erratic along with his words. Ramblings about owning you, about you never being able to get rid of him, words whispered fervently onto your skin as he painted your insides with his release.

You came to your senses before he did and you wanted to get dressed.

“I have to go Dave let me get dressed.” You tried to get off him but he held you tightly.

“What if I don’t want you to go? What if I want you to sit on my cock all day? Keep it warm for me.” He was kissing your neck, pulling your shirt down to kiss the tops of your breasts.

“Stop David, I have to go home and so do you. Playtime is over.” You were getting a little braver now that the fog of lust had cleared. He looked at you then and any softness was gone - his eyes grew cold and his hand came to your throat again.

“You said this pussy is mine. Were you lying?” His hand held your throat possessively and you felt him hardening inside you once more.

“What are you talking about? When we fuck you own me, but outside of this I have a life, I’ll be married soon and you have your wife and kids. This cannot continue no matter how much I enjoy it. You know that right? We have to be realistic here.” His eyes narrowed in a way that you didn’t recognize, he had a faraway look and you had to bring him back to you. “I meant what I said before. No one has ever made me feel the way you do, no one has ever fucked me the way you do and I lose my mind around you but you have to know it cannot continue.” You gently pulled his hand away from your throat, and kissed him as softly as you could. You were chasing the comfort he usually gave you.

For a moment it seemed like he wouldn’t be swayed, but what you soon realized was that you affected him just as much as he affected you. You pulled him close, whimpering into his mouth. There was a heady feeling in the power you felt, at being the one to calm him and you took it as far as you could.

“You know it’s yours daddy, my pussy is only for you. We had a lot of fun, you made me cum so hard. I’m going to be feeling your cock for hours. So big and hard inside me.” You kissed his neck, relishing the feeling of his dick twitching at your words. His hands held you almost violently, as if he couldn't get you close enough.

“It is mine isn’t it.” He spoke into your neck, making you bounce on him again, chasing the friction so he could cum again.

The second time was slower, you were fucking him now. Your hips a slow grind on his cock, his cum and your arousal making it so slippery, so much better. He was whining into your neck and you felt so fucking powerful. You weren’t thinking about the implications of your actions. You weren’t thinking how he would perceive this as your admittance to his ownership over you.

You didn’t realize the mistake you were making.

“It’s mine, you’re mine baby- tell me - fuck - tell me you’re mine.” He groaned the words.

“I’m yours, only yours. My cunt, my tits - my body. Yours all yours.” You whimpered as you came again, clamping down on his cock almost painfully tight. It triggered his own release and as you sat there slowly stroking each other, he was calculating his next move.

——————

You didn’t think about the interaction much, your ability to compartmentalize this part of you - the part you willingly gave to him should have shocked you; but even that was tucked away. When you were home with Charlie - it was a daydream. You never actually did those things? You didn’t open your legs like a whore every time Dave looked at you- that had to be someone else.

It was easy to be distracted with the rehearsal dinner coming up, the two of you finally agreeing on a really nice restaurant downtown. It felt better to have the invitations sent, felt like you were finally doing something to contribute to your own wedding. It made you guilty to think you’d barely done anything in that department but say yes. Charlie had taken care of all of the arrangements up until now, that had to change.

---

You should have felt guilty that all you could think of while you got ready for the rehearsal dinner was the fact that Dave hadn’t reached out since the morning in the parking lot. You should have been relieved, the... indiscretion had run its course and now you were where you were supposed to be. With Charlie… Right?

You could hear him rummaging in the closet, his movements becoming more and more erratic and his voice was rising.

“Babe - have you seen my tie? I could have sworn I hung it with my suit but it’s gone.” He looked through his garment bag furiously and you took pity. You assumed it must have fallen somewhere but you were soon sharing his frustration. It was nowhere to be found.

It was too late to do anything about it now, he wore another tie and you quickly made your way towards the restaurant.

It was nice to see everyone there, you had reserved a few tables near the back and your wedding party and close family had all come out to celebrate the two of you. Charlie was in a good mood, his hand finding a way to touch you and keep you close. The slithering thing however - raged. It was thrashing and screaming inside you, seeking out Dave as you drank your wine. You imagined how it would have been if you’d been marrying him instead. You imagined him meeting your family - your mother might have thought you were a bit young for him. Your father might have been impressed that he was well established, a secure job - a good future for you. You could almost feel his hand gripping your thigh under the table - whispering filth into your ear as you tried to eat.

“I’d let that man crack me open like a walnut.” Your best friend and maid of honour broke you out of your daydream to point out a man walking with his family towards a table not far from yours. Had he heard your thoughts? It felt like your stomach fell out of your body when his dark eyes locked on yours.

“Oh god.” It came out involuntarily. Your friend took it as an agreement to her statement.

“Right? What a dilf.” She was swooning - he was so fucking handsome.

Alice caught sight of you then and waved excitedly. You gave her a small wave back.

“You know him?” Your friend grabbed your arm excitedly.

“Yes - that’s my student Alice, her parents Carol and Dave.” It felt wrong to say his name out loud. Like everyone would know all the things you’d done once it was out in the air. You saw Carol smile at you then - saying something to Dave whose eyes had never left yours. Your blood ran cold when they walked over to your table.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. York, how’s your evening going?” You smiled as naturally as you could when they each shook your hand. Both of them smiled and made small talk.

“Hey babe who’s this?” Charlie came over and put his hand on the small of your back.

“Mr. and Mrs. York - this is my fiance Charlie. Charlie, these are the parents of my student Alice.” He shook hands with Carol, and then David. You could feel the flush creeping up your neck seeing them shake hands.

“Please, call me David - I feel like I know your fiance so well - Alice talks about her all the time.” He smiled, the very picture of friendliness. Charlie was all smiles.

My little golden retriever. The slithering thing was cruel tonight.

David smiled at you, while Carol prattled on about what a lovely couple you were - how gorgeous your children would be and how excited she was for you. David smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You could see the cracks in it, especially as Charlie tucked you into his side.

When the incredibly awkward meeting was over and you were sitting with your maid of honour again she was reeling, asking you questions about Dave. You had to gently remind her - and yourself - that he was married.

“Yes yes I know - but it’s fun to imagine right? God I bet he has a big dick. I just know he does. Would probably fuck you into the mattress, look at those hands.” She was almost drooling and you really couldn’t blame her. You knew the truth.

As the night went on you were getting more and more flustered as you felt David's eyes on you, he was suffocating you. What the fuck were the odds that he would be here tonight? You thought he might have done it on purpose but that would be insane. How could he possibly know? There was no logical way the knowledge could have gotten back to him. You briefly thought about him surprising you at the grocery store; just a coincidence, right?

You had to get away all of a sudden. With everyone enjoying themselves, with the wine flowing along with the conversation it was easy to slip away to the bathroom. You weren’t alone for long though, someone knocked on the door and kept knocking no matter how many times you said it was busy so you hurried to finish, not wanting to hold up the line.

David pushed you back in when you opened the door and before you could register what was happening he was kissing you. If anyone had asked you later on you would have denied it, but you were just as frantic.

You pulled at his hair and yanked him closer, and then somewhat came to your senses after the initial passion. You were in the bathroom at your wedding rehearsal dinner.

“David - stop, we can’t. I have to get back - Carol and Charlie…” He was hiking up your dress as you spoke and although your words said one thing, your actions said another. You were helping him, opening his belt and pulling down his pants to wrap your hand around his cock.

“Charlie?” His tone was mocking as he ripped your underwear, almost burning your thigh with the force of it. You moaned -

Charlie doesn’t make me feel like this. You couldn’t even summon up the guilt, not with how you were dripping, glossy and wet for him. Not with how hard his cock was for you - not with how he rubbed it through your folds as he hiked your leg high on his hip.

“Charlie doesn’t make you this wet does he baby, doesn’t fuck this wet little pussy like daddy does” He wasn’t gentle, he buried himself to the hilt and it knocked the air out of you. He held onto your throat with one hand as he snapped his hips forward hard and fast, your cunt practically sucking him in. His hand tightened slightly when you didn’t answer him.

“No, no he - fuck - no he doesn’t.” His pace was bruising, it was rough and you didn’t want it to stop. It wasn’t enough for him though.

“You have to remember who this fucking pussy belongs to… I’m going to make you cum while Charlie is outside. You’re going to feel me while you’re with him.” He pulled out and you whimpered, he stood off to the side and put your leg on the toilet then he slid two fingers into your swollen cunt, curling them and hitting that spongy spot with a brutal speed. The pressure was so intense you couldn’t even scream.

“There it is - going to squirt for me?” He was whispering in your ear as his hand almost blurred between your legs. You left your body as you felt the wet gush of your orgasm. It was all over the floor and dripping down your legs.

If he wasn’t holding you, you would have slid down the wall.

“That’s it, what a good girl.” He was back between your legs, slamming himself back into you - your arousal wetting his pant legs but he didn’t care. “Open your fucking mouth.” He snarled into your face, his hand ever present at your throat and you did. He spit into it - “Swallow.” You felt depraved, you felt disgusting, you were wetter than you’d ever fucking been and if he stopped you would have died.

His thrusts were becoming more and more erratic.

“I’m going to cum in this pretty mouth, and then you’re going to kiss Charlie.” He pulled out and you scrambled to get onto your knees. He held you by the hinge of your jaw and stroked himself onto your tongue. You swallowed as much as you could, reaching up to catch whatever dripped out.

“Kiss him when you get to the table, daddy’s watching.” he spoke calmly as he put himself away. He didn’t even bother washing his hands before he slipped out; leaving you to clean up the mess.

---

You looked in the mirror when he left and it was like you were looking at a stranger. Who was this woman looking back at you? With the red marks on her neck, with the ruined underwear that had to be thrown out. Red knees and lips.

That’s you, that’s always been you

The slithering thing was sated and happy, basking in the afterglow of the violent orgasm Dave had ripped from you.

No one noticed you when you went back to your table, the red lips were assumed to be wine stains. The red flush the alcohol. David’s eyes bored into you as you kissed Charlie, terrified he’d know but he didn’t. The slithering thing cheered while you wilted, your conscience finally convincing you that this might have gotten out of control.

The guilt was building and building as they came to say goodbye, Carol congratulating you once more and David shaking Charlie’s hand.

“It’s so funny, I didn’t notice before but I was going to wear a tie just like that tonight.” Charlie was smiling. Even the slithering thing stilled - no longer celebrating as a terrifying thought crept into your mind.

“What a coincidence.” David smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

---

There was an impenetrable fog that obscured every and all thought. A cumulonimbus cloud thick enough to swim through. It covered everything in a gauzy haze and made it so difficult to focus on anything; it caused basic tasks to be completed almost instinctively.

You got home, but didn’t remember how. You took a shower, washed your face. You were in bed with Charlie; comfortable in clean pyjamas and yet still, you couldn’t understand how.

Had David broken into your apartment somehow? Getting into the building - unfortunately - wouldn’t be too hard you could understand that. He could charm his way in, or happen to catch someone as they walked out but how did he get into your unit? Your locks still worked. Neither of you had come home to a broken down door.

How would he even know which unit was ours?

You kept going back and forth within your own mind, wrestling yourself with the logic of it. On the one hand, there was no fucking way he had done this. It was absolutely insane. David York did not break into your apartment just to steal your fiance’s tie. The implications of it were too big for you to handle. It would have meant that he knew about your rehearsal dinner, which logically speaking - he couldn’t. You hadn’t told him.

He would have had to know which day Charlie bought his suit and tie, which again - you knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t know that the dinner was scheduled for tonight and that it would be at that specific restaurant. Were you actually considering that he would somehow manage to find out all of this information and then proceed to use it by wearing the tie - he somehow manager to steal - just to fuck with you? You sighed heavily - thankful that Charlie was blessedly fast asleep.

You were then forced to consider the alternative, which was that he had done just that. Found a way to keep tabs on you. You thought back to all of your interactions with him, painstakingly running through the events through your mind to a time where he would have access to… to what? What could he possibly do? You knew he had some sort of office job. Government? Police? What did he even do? You were startled to realize you didn’t actually know.

The question remained, and multiplied - growing from simply how, to when? His only chance would have been when you were in his home, but even then - what could he have done, the two of you had been together, busy.

You fell asleep

The slithering thing whispered, seeming to make amends and changing its tune with the fear you felt now, along with arousal at the thought of Dave. You’d both been asleep though, hadn't you?

Your phone flashed then - a text message from your best friend - congratulating you and stating how excited she was about the wedding, about how hot that dad had been with some smiley faces. You looked at your phone curiously then. Could this be how?

All of the information about the dinner, about Charlie's shopping trip - it was all here. The invitations had been sent through email. Anyone with access to your phone would know all of the details Dave would have needed to do the things you were -only a little seriously- suspecting him of. It still begs the question though, how could he have access to your phone?

You didn’t fall asleep until very late, looking at your phone with fearful suspicion.

——

It was difficult to concentrate.

Even after a few days, your mind was still clouded with doubt; you didn’t know what to think. It was hard to quantify all of the implications of your mistake and at this point you had no idea what to do about it. There was no way out that wouldn’t be messy.

You never had a choice

When did the slithering thing start sounding like Dave?

The startling realization hit you then, you’d never had any control over the situation; he had successfully invaded every part of you.

The situation had become so dire, so panic-inducing that Charlie had taken notice of your far off expression. You were unusually quiet, lost in thought and guilt alike more often than not.

You tried to reassure him that it was just stress, not getting enough sleep, anxiety over the upcoming wedding but you knew he imagined it was cold-feet. You were ashamed to admit that maybe it was. Maybe after all this, this taste of the forbidden fruit had soured everything else.

Charlie’s optimism became naivety. His willingness to compromise had become a weakness. Dave had poisoned every aspect of your life, ruining you for other men and for what? He’d made you no promises, no assurances of what would happen as a result of your indiscretion but he demanded everything from you; no regard for your life.

The worst part was you knew all of this, you were well aware of exactly what his terms were and you took it with your greedy little hands and your greedy little cunt.

You have no one to blame but yourself

—-

One week until the wedding

Things hadn’t gotten better.

The cure for a guilty conscience however, in your opinion, was working yourself to the point of exhaustion. Throwing every ounce of energy into teaching your class, activities and creative exercises left no room for Dave.

The side effect however was no better, Charlie hovered - borderline berating you for working too hard. You vaguely wondered to yourself if you wanted Charlie to catch you. Maybe he didn’t pay as much attention to you as he should have, maybe you should have been paying more attention to him?

No - this was your guilty conscience trying to deflect your abhorrent behaviour; this was the slithering thing changing it’s tactic by turning you against Charlie. The truth was that Charlie was giving you the benefit of the doubt, he was convinced that this was all pre-wedding jitters which to be fair, it should have been.

---

Five days until the wedding.

You should have been finalizing plans. You should have been excited and jittery and planning your honeymoon - which you hadn’t. You hadn’t said a word about the upcoming ceremony, and if Charlie brought it up you quickly changed the subject.

“I spoke to the florist, everything is all set. All we have to do now is show up.” He said it almost tentatively. Approaching the subject like a bomb technician. You responded with an mhm as you flitted around the kitchen, gathering your supplies for the school day.

“Babe, are you okay?” He faced you head on now, a little grown on his face.

“Of course, just running late.” You didn’t look him in the eye and while this would have worked a few weeks ago, it didn’t today.

“Stop, give me a second- please.” He stood in front of you, holding you by your shoulders so you were forced to confront him. “I’m not sure what’s going on, whether it’s stress from work, or nervous about the wedding but i'm here, it’s me, it’s us.” He was holding you, trying to connect with you on the same level you’d always been connected to each other but there was a wall; it’s name is David.

“Charlie, I’m fine. It’s all good - I’m stressed from work and this whole big wedding thing is giving me anxiety and frankly I don’t have time for this.” You gently pulled away from him, and much to your annoyance - he let you go, sighing heavily.

“You know I love you right?” His voice pulled at your heart, for a moment you were yourself- remembering the sweet boy that made you laugh. The lovely man in front of you who did everything he could to make you happy - but then you imagined David. He wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.

“Yes, I know - I love you too. Everything will be fine I promise.” You kissed him quickly as you ran out the door.

-----

Four days until the wedding

You stared at your phone while you waited for the steady trickle of parents, you wanted to smooth things over with Charlie but you didn’t know how to. Worst of all you didn’t actually know whether or not you even wanted to at this point. The thoughts jumbled together maddeningly before being interrupted by the soft knock from the first set of parents for the night. It went smoothly, until it was Carol's turn.

When Carol York walked into your classroom your heart fell into your stomach.

She sat and chatted with you, asking about the wedding and your fiance. It was difficult not to feel awkward - not with all of the truly filthy things you'd let her husband do to you. You studied her while she prattled away about Alice’s grades and home life. Her wedding ring drew your attention first, it was ostentatious. A huge rock on her delicate finger - her bag was designer, so were her shoes.

What does she do? What does David do?

You let her talk, trying to subtly gain some insight into her psyche - maybe you were trying to understand why David was so relentless in his pursuit of you. Maybe you wanted to compare yourself to this woman.

“What do you do Mrs York?” You asked her, trying not to jump onto the subject of her husband right away.

“Oh please, call me Carol! I work for a design firm, mostly commercial buildings and offices. Corporate design you could say.” She smiled, so friendly; you wondered whether it was blissful ignorance or a mutual understanding that it was all for show that kept her and David together. Neither one would have been preferable.

“That’s lovely, and what about Mr. York - what does he do?” If your face had given anything away, she didn’t mention it.

“Oh David works for the government. It’s all terribly bureaucratic and boring. I swear though sometimes it’s like the man works for the CIA with how secretive he can be about his work, like I need to know everything that happens. An office is an office and they’re all the same aren’t they?” Her laugh was soft.

Blissful ignorance the slithering thing decided.

You thought about her a lot after she left, lingering on Davids job and what he could have access to. Was he really CIA? That was a slightly terrifying thought.

Your thoughts circled back around however and the truth of the matter was that neither Carol or Charlie deserved to be treated this way. The knock at the door startled you - your head snapping up to see who was here. The school had been empty with Carol being your last appointment.

“How was the meeting with my wife?” Dave was leaning against the door frame.

Your stomach dropped.

“What are you doing here? Carol just left - did you see her in the parking lot?” The audacity of this man was perplexing, how could he show up here and risk his wife seeing him.

“I saw her leave, she didn’t see me.” He walked over to you but you held your ground - looking up into his handsome face. The shame hit you like a bolt of lightning when he looked into your eyes, it hit you because all of the contemplating - all of the regret and the shame at having done all you had went right out the window.

“So where does Carol think you are right now?” You had to know.

“Same place Charlie thinks you are. At work.” He couldn’t keep the mocking tone out of his voice when saying Charlie's name. It was curious that he could seemingly hate Charlie - he was just your Carol.

“What do you do?” The question bubbled out of your mouth almost of its own volition and you saw his eyes narrow slightly.

“I work for the government.” He didn’t elaborate and his expression said the matter was closed. You had an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach along with the all too familiar ache of arousal his very presence seemed to inspire.

“I’m curious.” You didn’t think you could say more than that, there was a voice in the back of your mind, quieter than the slithering thing but much stronger.

Don’t ask too many questions - he won’t like that

You listened.

“I missed you baby, didn’t you miss me?” The flip had switched when you backed off, this was what he was here for. You couldn't lie to him.

“Yes - I did.” You stared up at him, at his mouth. The plush bottom lip you liked to bite because it made him groan. The tawny skin of his neck - it made you want to stand up on your tippy toes to kiss him there.

“What are you thinking about?” It came out almost playful, was it so obvious?

“Your neck.” There was no point in lying to him. “I want to kiss it.” Your body carried you closer to him and he made space for you in his arms, hugging you close to him. This was uncharacteristic of him. This kind of comfort usually came after he’d wrung every ounce of pleasure and decency from you and it felt so intimate. It felt more vulgar because he was showing how he felt about you. How he wanted to feel about you.

You couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled. How your face fit perfectly into the crook of his neck. Even though the knowledge that this could not last, this could not end well, this was the best part. Feeling close to him and even more so - feeling wanted by him.

Utterly enveloped by him.

The mood shifted however as it always does when in his presence, and now his face was in the crook of your neck. Seeking out your warmth and your scent and your skin.

“I’ve missed you so much - think about you constantly.” He spoke between fervent kisses that burned you. “Think about your mouth, your tits, your sweet little cunt and I get so hard for you baby.” He was leaving a blazing path with his mouth. His words searing you just as ardently.

“Tell me, tell me how much you want me.” You needed to hear it, maybe it would all be worth it, the pain and the destruction this would invariably cause in your life as well as his. All would be worth it because he wanted you so badly.

“I want you so much, every minute of every day. I can’t focus, I have to have you. You belong to me.” He was crowding you, his hands seeking out every part of you available to him and he pushed you onto your desk to stand between your legs.

The heat was in your belly now, spreading from your skin into your blood and running through your veins. His words were a forest fire and you couldn’t control it so you let yourself burn for him. Your cunt was weeping and you needed to hear more - everything. You needed him to tell you everything, all of the thoughts, all of the suspicions and the fear were lost when he touched you like this. In these moments with him none of it mattered. Nothing mattered.

“I think about you too, keep telling me- please.” You yanked him by his hair to taste him, forestalling your request by licking into this mouth - as if wanting to taste the truth in his words. He pulled at your leggings and your underwear all at once, leaving you bare for him.

“This pussy owns me as much as I own it, I want to see it dripping in me. My cum sliding out of it - I have to taste it.” He kneeled in front of you and seeing him looking up at you through dark lashes and hooded, lust blown eyes was almost too much. The slick pooled at your entrance and he groaned at the sight of it.

You could feel the flush creeping up your chest at the way he looked up at you. It was almost blasphemous the way he devoured you. His hands were insistent in the way he held your thighs open for him, draping them over his shoulders. You imagined what you looked like then, with your legs spread for him, your heels digging into his back as you ground your hips into the wet heat of his mouth.

He sucked your clit into his mouth and you almost screamed, the coil in your belly winding itself tighter and tighter as he forcibly dragged you over the edge and into oblivion. He hummed onto your skin as he slid two thick fingers into your silken heat. The stretch of his fingers pumping in that maddening rhythm with the wet glide of his tongue over and over and over- It was too much and you grabbed at his hair violently as your orgasm flooded out of you and into his mouth.

—-

Two days until the wedding.

You were meant to finalize a few things today and Charlie had left early in the morning, mentioning a last minute errand he had to run. That had been hours ago and he hadn’t even called.

There was a knock at your apartment door - Charlie must have forgotten his keys again.

“David, what are you doing here?” You felt the colour drain from your face. He pushed his way inside the apartment.

“I needed to see you.” His voice was level but the bile was rising in your throat. Charlie could walk in at any moment.

“David, now is not the time and this is definitely not the place - how did you know where I lived…?” The hairs on the back of your neck were standing on end - his job came to your mind unbidden. He didn’t answer you.

“I need to touch you, I need to fuck you in your bed - in Charlie’s bed.” He had a violent glint in his eye and it startled you just as much as it aroused you.

“Are you crazy? David..” He crashed his lips into yours, giving you no choice.

You wanted to fight him, you wanted to push him away and demand the answers you needed, but you didn’t. You never fought him. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck to get closer. You sighed into his mouth when his tongue plundered yours.

“Take your fucking clothes off now, be good for daddy.” The words almost came out in a growl and you almost ripped them in your haste to obey, the shirt and bra you had been wearing were now a discarded heap on the floor. Your leggings were wrenched down leaving everything but your calves exposed to his touch. He turned you around roughly and pushed your face into your dining room table, your ass on display for him while he undid his belt.

This was how Charlie found you. Naked and panting for a fully clothed man.

“What the fuck?” His voice wasn’t angry, he was too confused for that. His brain hadn’t registered the scene in its entirety until you were scrambling to get your pants up. Apologizing and telling him it wasn’t what he thought it was, which was a lie. It was exactly what he thought it was.

You were about to get fucked by someone else, in your shared apartment, two days before your wedding.

“This whole time, I thought it was nerves. How could you do this to me? Who the fuck are you?” He spoke to you and Dave and while you tried to explain, tried to get your bra back on - David was silent.

Charlie stormed out before you could do anything and David told you to get dressed, that he would go after him.

You had your bra back on, and were just about to run out the door when David burst through your apartment.

“Call an ambulance. Now.”

----

“You say you were both going to grab some lunch and he fell down the stairwell?” The detective was talking to David who had you tucked into his side, a hand rubbing your back in what he imagined was a soothing gesture.

“That’s right, he slipped and fell when we were making our way down. His shoelace must have been untied.” He didn’t even flinch.

You said nothing while David spoke, but you tried to communicate silently to the detective that something was wrong but he barely looked at you. David had handled everything and you knew then that there was nothing to be done. When the interview came to an end, the detective shook his hand, told you how sorry he was and that they would release the body back to you soon.

All you could do was think about all the time David had said you belonged to him. How he would never let you go, and now the only thing keeping you from him was gone.

You were all his.

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

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Revelation

Breach Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst, some blood and anger this chapter.

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: SURPRISE! I somehow got this done this morning so voila!

I won’t demand but do ask for feedback; likes, reblogs, replies, comments, asks, especially on this series, but again, enjoy in your own way! <3 Love you!

A six-hour car ride and a brief flight saw you at a second safehouse; bigger and isolated from the world in a nest of trees. Steve accompanied you alone as Howard disappeared to ‘sort out business’. You watched and listened to it all, always keeping Luka close.

Your room was as big as one of the houses you’d lived in during your days in South America. Luka wanted to stay with you and you wouldn’t have let him sleep anywhere else. James, or Bucky, whoever he was those days, looked grim as he commented how nice it would be for you to have your privacy. You didn’t dare ask him to stay in the room though you wanted it. You had grown used to his presence.

You slept the first night soundly, waking only once or twice to look at the door. The usual shadow wasn’t there. That made you frown and run your fingers through Luka’s hair. You were safe now but that wouldn’t last, it never did.

You woke yawning, the hours of sleep reminding your body of its long-hewn fatigue. You could have slept for days. You peeked out into the hallway and Luka pushed past you, sprinting out the door. You followed him and called him back to you with a reprimand. He was excited about all the new places.

“Mishka, you stay close, we’re only going to get some breakfast,” you said as you took his hand.

“Mama, this place is so big! I wanna stay here forever,” he sang as he tugged on your arm.

“Why, so you can tear the walls down?” you tutted, “What has gotten into you?”

“Papa’s friend, Steve, he told me he fights the bad guys,” Luka swung your arm, “will he fight the ones who hurt you and Papa?”

You stopped just outside the kitchen. You turned Luka to you and bent to look him in his face. “What men, mishka?”

“The one’s we’re running from,” he said innocently.

You gulped and cradled his face in your hands, “don’t you worry about that, my love, me and your father will always keep you safe.”

The boy looked confused but didn’t ask more, he only nodded and you stood with a sigh. You took his hand again and pulled him into the kitchen. You sat him on one of the tall chairs along the island counter and searched the fridge. You poured each of you a bowl of Cheerios and pushed his across to him as you leaned on the other side of the counter and spooned up the cereal.

“You’re here,” James’ voice startled you as he came to a sharp stop just inside the doorway, “you weren’t in your room, I was--”

“You said we’re safe here,” you lowered your spoon, “Luka was hungry.”

“We are safe,” he exhaled and slowly crossed the room to stand at the end of the counter.

“You want some?” you shook the box at him.

“Eat,” he took it and grabbed a bowl of his own, “I’ll get it.”

He added milk and sat beside Luka. Your son smiled at him and received a goofy look in return. There were moments James wasn’t so guarded but those were always reserved for your son, never you. When he looked at you, you only saw his guilt and pain.

“Howard will be here at noon,” James said as he turned back to you and stirred his bowl, “I’ll talk to them first.”

“Talk?” you asked.

“They need to know… everything,” he said reluctantly, “you watch over Luka while I’m with them and try not to worry. We can trust Steve.”

You nodded and scooped another spoonful into your mouth. You chewed and stared at the counter. That wasn’t what you were worried about, how could you explain all that had happened?

✰

After you ate, you took Luka to the living room and Bucky left you again. After some giddy pleas from your son, you turned on the television. There were few times in his life, and yours, that you had the luxury of a screen. You sat and watched puppets spell and count for a while before you grew bored.

Luka tired of the wooden car he’d outgrown a while ago and jumped on the couch. You tried to get him to stop but only found yourself out of breath.

“Mishka! You will break it,” you caught him mid-leap and swung him down onto his feet, “why don’t we play a game?”

“Oooh, hide and seek!” he chimed.

“I don’t know, that might not--”

“Please, papa hates that game but it’s so fun,” he clapped, “please, mama.”

“It is fun when you can only hide in the broom closet. You will get lost in here.”

“Promise, mama, I will not go far, please?”

You sniffed and stared into his hopeful eyes, James’ eyes. “You stay on this floor and do not go past the stairs, understood?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he squealed, “now mama, you have to close your eyes. No peeking.”

“I know how this game works,” you sat and covered your face with your hands, “thirty seconds, mishka.”

“Thirty?” he whined.

“Twenty-nine, twenty-eight…”

You heard his feet stamp away and you smiled, counting louder with each number. When you reached one you got up and went to the hall. You looked up and down for any telltale sign of him. Nothing was different.

You went to the kitchen and searched all the cupboards and the pantry. He wasn’t in there. As you checked the closets and still did not find him, you felt the panic rising in your throat. Your heart hammered as you ran around the stairs, he hadn’t listened!

You heard a voice, a high pitch you knew well. The front door was open just a crack and you ripped it open as you followed Luka’s sing-song. He sang a Russian tune you taught him as he was carried on the back of a dark-haired man. You ran across the porch and past the armored car in the lot.

You tore Luka from the stranger’s back and both cried out in surprise. You put your son down as the man turned to you. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and punched him as hard as you could, just as James taught you. You heard the crack of his nose as you pulled back again.

“You take my son!” you snarled as he put his arm up to block your next strike and your hand gleaned off his chin, “my son! I will kill you.”

“Mama, mama,” you felt Luka tugging at your pants.

“Go inside, Luka,” you barked ready to strangle the man.

“He’s wasn’t taking me, mama, we were playing,” Luka begged, “he’s just a kid, like me.”

You stopped and looked the man in the face. Luka was right, he was sixteen, maybe seventeen, familiar even. You growled and let him go hesitantly. You pulled Luka close to you.

“Who are you?”

“I should ask you the same,” the adolescent stemmed the blood leaking from his nostrils with the heel of his hand and tilted his head back, “you sure pack a punch, lady.”

“Who?” you stepped forward again and he backed away.

“Tony,” he snorted and turned to spit up blood onto the ground, “Tony Stark, Howard’s son.”

“Howard?” you blinked, “oh, I--” you looked down at Luka who looked terrified, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I-- let me help you clean up.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” he chuckled and backed away from you, “I think I can handle this.”

“Mama,” Luka huffed.

“I’m sorry, mishka, I did not know,” you grimaced, “I so very sorry, I really--” you looked at Tony again.

“I’m fine,” he pulled his cuff up to his nose, “really, I shouldn’t have just taken the kid.”

“I couldn’t find him, I was so scared, I--”

“Luka,” James’ voice drew you around. He stood on the porch and descended the steps carefully as he took in the scene, “what’s going on? What are you doing out here?”

“Playing a game,” you said as Tony shook his head.

“What happened to the kid?” James asked as he pointed at the bloodied teen.

“Your wife, that’s what happened,” Tony spat.

“She’s not--

“I thought he was taking Luka,” you interrupted James, “I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s okay,” he took Luka’s hand and pulled the boy close, “you did what I showed you,” he turned to the younger Stark, “you should get that cleaned up or it’ll stay crooked.”

“Uh huh,” Tony dragged his feet through the dirt towards the house, “such a pleasant little family.”

You watched him go and hung your head. You felt awful and held up your shaky hand, your knuckles sore from the assault. Bucky took your hand and looked it over.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I hurt him,” you said, “I hurt a kid.”

“He’s fine,” James assured, “I’ll talk to Stark, it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, papa, we were playing hide and seek and I didn’t tell mama I was going outside--”

“I told you not to play that game,” James looked down at Luka, “this is why, because you scare us.”

“I’m sorry,” Luka repeated.

“Well, everyone’s safe so…” he rubbed his forehead with his gloved hand as his eyes met yours, “it’s your turn, I’ll keep and eye on Luka.”

“My turn?”

“Upstairs, they’re waiting,” James said and raised his hand as if he would touch your shoulder but instead dropped it, “answer the question but you don’t need to talk about what you don’t want to.”

You nodded and swallowed as you looked past him to the front door. There were no questions they could ask that you didn’t dread.

✰

Howard and Steve sat on the other side of the table. It felt like a real interrogation, like you’d done something wrong. And yet, as you explained your time at Hydra, from employee to experiment, neither seemed to flinch, they listened and took notes but did not show the horror you felt.

“Do you know what they were doing to your son the day of your escape?” Stark asked.

“No, I was… sedated for much of it, they took him from me and--” you shook your head, “I was so angry, I never been so angry and when I woke I felt invincible and when the doctor came, I would’ve killed him, I think.”

“And I know it’s probably a moot question but you don’t know what they were giving you? The capsules, the drip?”

“I never seen the charts,” you shrugged and looked down.

Your hands were trembling and you were overwhelmed. It was the first time you said any of it aloud and once you started, it streamed out like a river. Now that it was all out, the emotions began to flow too.

Then the realisation and the fear. It was, easy even for you, to guess what Hydra intended for your son. He was to be like his father, more efficient than his father. You lifted your head, terrified, and glanced between the men furtively.

“My son is not a weapon,” you said, “know that and do not make him one.”

“That is not our intent,” Steve assured softly, “that is not the type of weapon we use. That’s why we’re here, away from SHIELD, away from Hydra, we can’t let this happen to anyone else but given what we know, this experiment wasn’t just shelved. There are others out there and we need to get to them before another Winter Soldier appears.”

“But how… me and James hide for so long,” you said, “we cannot possibly know--”

Steve’s throat constricted and he looked at Howard. They weren’t telling you something.

“What you have told us today is all we need from you,” Stark said evenly, “It is a start for us to uncover the rest.”

“Uncover?” you blinked and frowned, “what do you mean uncover?”

“You and James have given us locations, details, security procedure,” Stark continued, “with that, we can gain access to the information we do need and find out where they’ve moved their new Soldat operation--”

“No,” you snapped as your chest squeezed, “you would send him back there?”

“We didn’t say--”

“You don’t tell me but you think I am stupid. I know James and I know he feels so bad he would go back to die,” you snarled, “he did nothing wrong. It was not him!”

“But… you, uh, he--” Howard began awkwardly.

“Hydra did that, Hydra made him that monster and he doesn’t not owe you anything. He killed the men who would take my child from me and he kept Luka safe, he is done.”

“Look, Bucky is my best friend and I understand, it wasn’t him, but he did those things, even if it wasn’t his choice and this is what we can do, this is the deal we can offer you. He gets us that intel and you get your safe haven.”

“And if he doesn’t come back?” you stood and slammed your hands on the table, “you would kill him all over again, Steven.”

Steve reeled as if you’d slapped him and Howard raised as brow as he looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“You friend? Really?” your English became more fractured as your rage rose and you hit the table again, this time leaving a dent in the metal, “you no friend to know what you send him back to. They not kill him, not his body, and they torture his mind.”

“Please, ma’am,” Howard said calmly, “it was his idea--”

“I don’t care, you let him!” you shouted, “You think him evil but I know he not. He save me and he has son. You would let a father die.”

“Just calm--” Steve intoned.

“No, no be calm,” you began to rant in Russian as you turned and stormed to the door.

“Where-- Wait!’ The men stood and followed after you.

“I go James!” you hollered as you strode out into the hall, “he trouble!”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Winter Soldier #dark winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #dark!winter soldier #fic #series #breach #dark fic #dark!fic #au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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welcomethefears · 3 years

Photo

It wasn’t as if you had meant to end up outside his dorm room after his stupidly early bedtime of 8pm, but the tears streaming down your cheeks combined with the noiseless dorm building were hopefully excuse enough. Not sleeping had taken it’s toll on your body, the constant shaking of your hands as you fruitlessly tried to wipe away made the sobs rack your entire being even harder now that you were trying to stifle your emotions. Your arm tensed multiple times are your brain’s battle raged on, could you really knock on his door? Would you really wake the Pomeranian up from his beauty sleep? Breathing in as deeply as you could, yet disturbed by the shakiness of each inhale, your (e/c) eyes tried to glance around the hallway in order to calm yourself down. Your bare feet on the floor were cold, your toes almost frozen solid. Your oversized hoodie only just covered your legs, and it was almost as if cartoon shiver lines could literally be seen surrounding you. The hallway lights had been off for a while now, and the windows let in large amounts of moonlight. Yet despite all that, the emptiness and stillness of everything around you seemed to crush you. You were so utterly alone, not even the world cared to move for you while you went through this crisis.

And it hurt.

It hurt so badly, the thought that no one even bothered with you when everything felt as if it was crumbling around you. Why were you so stupid to think that he, of all people, would care about someone as worthless as you? The tears started to fall harder, and you could taste the saltiness overwhelm your mouth. With shaky steps you tried to turn away from the dorm, to go back to own and suffer in silence. You thought it was what you deserved, you thought that it was what someone as horrid as you needed.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Asked a gruff voice as your felt calloused fingers grip your shaking wrist. Turning quickly, your (e/c) eyes caught his red ones, red eyes that were tired and narrowed at the same time. Bakugou was staring you down, his hand still clutching your wrist, but surprisingly it was a hold softer than you thought he was capable.

“How’d you know I was here?” You sniffled out, using your other hand to rub at your leaking eyes once again. Bakugou simply rolled his eyes at this as he pulled you quietly into his room, letting you walk in as far as you wanted.

“Your 10 text messages and 3 phone calls woke me up. You’re also horrible at keeping your damn voice down,” He replied gruffly as he shut his door as softly as possible. You couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch him stiffly move to face you, his arms bulging out of his singlet top. You were frozen to the spot now that you processed what was happening. Here you were, your cheeks tear stained and face red, standing in not only a boy’s dorm room, but your crush’s dorm room. His blonde hair seemed almost spikier than it usually was, and as you quickly tried to stop your eyes from connecting, you noticed him cock his head to the side as he often did.

“You really are an idiot aren’t you (n/n)-chan?” Bakugou huffed with a shake of his head, walking straight past you to sit on the edge of his bed. Bakugou watched as you remained glued to your spot, almost frozen in your movements if it wasn’t for the tears running down your face, and muffled sobs shaking your body. Not that you could see, but a frown overtook his own face at your near silent whimpers. Your normally (s/c) skin was dull, and your entire form looked as if it were about to fold in on itself. With a roll of his eyes, he once again softly grabbed your wrist and pulled you down to sit beside him, his own hands coming up to hold yours lightly.

“I’m here (n/n)-chan, what do you need to talk about?” He asked with a grumble and yet you knew. You knew this was the height of vulnerability for him. You had been friends since you had both started at UA surprisingly, and while you had no clue why he liked you, it was clear to Bakugou that there was just something about you. Something that made him a little more sociable. Hell, if it weren’t for your connection, he was certain that he wouldn’t be hanging out with shitty hair or the other bozos in his supposed squad.

“I feel… so worthless Katsuki. I… I don’t know why I’m even here at this school. I’m so useless Katsuki, and no one seems to realise it,” You sobbed, the lump in your throat letting way to more harsh cries. His grip tightened subconsciously on your hands, as he watched your face carefully. Unfortunately, this wasn’t an entirely new experience. He had been woken up by your non-stop calls before you’d moved into dorms, your sobs filled with self-doubt and unfortunately self-hate. He listened as you relentlessly sobbed and split your anxiety ridden guts to him, his thumbs lightly rubbing your thumbs in comfort.

“And I just feel like, everyone should hate me. I’m so horrible and they don’t realize it,” You cried out, your head dropping as your (h/c) hair fell in front of your face.

“You’re not.” Bakugou stated plainly, and although his red eyes were still narrowed, there was a determination in them. He didn’t hate doing this, if anything, deep down his angry little heart, he felt warm in the cheeks at the thought that you had chosen him to trust. You trusted him with your fears and innermost thoughts. But he did hate that you thought of yourself like this.

“But I am. All I do is annoy people, including you. Right now, for example, I’m annoying you,” You wept.

“No, you’re not. (n/n)-chan, you need to tell your lying ass stupid brain to shut the hell the up,” Bakugou replied, finally catching your eye as you brought your head up.

“It’s wrong, it’s telling you lies and to be honest you need to beat it the hell up,” Bakugou told you completely seriously, and you couldn’t help but laugh almost pitifully at his words. He raised a blonde eyebrow at your reaction, before a small smile barely overtook his face.

“No, you’re right. I need to use my quirk to beat my stupid brain into ground for lying to me,” You smiled, your tears finally subsiding as your breathing calmed. Bakugou let out a sigh of relief at this, and felt the tension leave his shoulders.

“You’re right about that. (y/n), you know that people care about you. Shitty hair, dumb Pikachu, even acid chick and flat face,” He huffed, before finally turning his face away from yours. You watched him carefully as a red blush overtook his face.

“And of course, I care about you as well idiot. More than those dumbasses do,” He almost whispered, but of course he made it loud enough so that you could hear. Although it was almost a confession, he knew you needed to hear it right now. He knew you needed reassurance that you were likeable, but he hadn’t realised just how much effect hearing the person you like tell you they care about you can have. Your face flushed before you let go of his hands, jumping into his chest as you felt his arms quickly come up to hug you. He clutched you tightly to his chest, not wanting to let go after your confessions about your thoughts that night.

“I care about you too Katsuki-kun,” You almost whispered, a small grin on your face.

“And thank you. You always listen to me when I’m like this, you make me feel better, and like I’m somebody,” You thanked genuinely, looking him in the eyes with the most thankful look you could muster.

“You’ll always be someone to me,” Bakugou replied with a roll of his red eyes, before knocking his forehead softly into yours. You could only giggle in reply as you held each other close.

Waking him up wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #x reader #bnha x reader #bnha katsuki #katsuki bakugo fluff #fluff #tw anxiety #reader insert #x reader imagine #imagine #bnha #x you #x y/n #mha #katsuki bakugou imagine

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memeadonna · 3 years

Text

Anything for You, Baby

Hello everyone! This is a short little thirst story I wrote for @sendhelpimstupid featuring Sugar Baby Kirishima. The stunning art can be found here. Please visit her page and show her some love!

This story is 18+. Minors DNI

Warnings: Sugar Baby/Sugar Mommy Relationship, Premature Ejaculation, Cross-Dressing, Sub Kirishima, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Mild Choking, Scratching and Biting Mentioned, Vaginal Intercourse, I wrote this in like 3 hours sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes

Word Count: 2,562

Of all the things you were thankful for in life, people were always surprised when you mentioned Kirishima's expensive taste. Your entire relationship had started because he hadn't noticed how much money he'd been spending until one day he was overdrawn. He hadn't added up the totals of his expenses in his head, hadn't realized every time he swiped his card that money left his account. He liked the finer things in life, and how was he supposed to know that his bank account was meant to last him all of his first semester? His parents had told him "figure it out", so he couldn't even ask them for help.

Being at a hero school was tough already – he could barely even enjoy the city nightlife since he was stuck at the dorms between classes doing homework. He didn't even have enough time to get a job outside of school hours. Maybe he wasn't cut out for university, let alone at a prestigious hero school.

You had noticed Kirishima's state of panic, and when he confessed to everyone in the dorm that he was out of money, people (Bakugou and his other friends) had made fun of him. Uraraka and Iida had stepped in immediately, chastising them for mocking him. He tried to play it off as no big deal, that he'd figure it out, and the conversation shifted elsewhere.

You'd been born into a wealthy family like Iida and Momo, and on top of that you'd had your own job throughout high school, so you'd saved up lots of money already. "I could hire you," you told him after everyone had left for the night. "Pay you to do things for me."

"I don't need your charity," he'd snapped back. "Did Bakugou put you up to this?"

"I just thought I'd offer to help you since we're friends," you answered calmly, before getting up and heading to your dorm. That night you'd sat up late regretting ever asking him if he needed help.

Early the next morning he was at your door. "What kind of things?" was the first thing he asked, as you rubbed your eyes and blinked up at him blearily. You made him repeat himself twice because the words didn't stick in your brain this early.

"Clean my room, do my laundry," you'd finally told him, offering what you hoped was a kind smile. "Other things when I want them." The blush he gave you at those words more than made up for his harshness last night.

You'd started slowly, of course. You gave him rewards for handing in assignments on time, taken him out to dinner when he got good grades, and little treats for random things. "Do I always need a reason, baby?" you'd asked him one night as he examined the concert tickets, you'd just given him. You'd been delighted to accept the ticket he gave back to you and had secretly smiled to yourself as Denki had whined and complained that Kirishima had promised to take him! But that was back when Kirishima was spending his money on everything. Now he was just spending it on himself.

One day, half-joking, you'd gifted him a French Maid outfit to clean your room in. It was just a little too tight for him (he couldn't even do the zipper up!), but it was the creamy white stockings and cute little heels you were interested in. He tried his hardest to clean your room, but after the third time he rolled his ankle, he ended up with you in his lap, and let's just say that your relationship changed from there.

You'd pushed him back into your bed and felt him up beneath the skirts and ruffles. You left a smattering of dark hickies over his neck and collarbones, moving down his body with clear intent. He was beet red, sitting up and panting as he watched you with wide eyes. Your hands slipped below his skirts and trailed up his legs, and you watched him squirm. "Aw," you teased, revelling in your victory. "What's wrong, does the baby like getting dressed up all cute and ravaged?"

He stammered with a reply for a moment, but you dipped under his skirt and the breathy gasp he let out as you began to kiss up his thighs was more than worth it. A part of you wanted to pull back out and apply lipstick so you could leave more evidence of your kisses, but there was no way in hell you were going to back down now. You settled for more hickies and a few bites, and by the time you reached your prize, he was hard and throbbing.

You were the only person with a dorm on your floor (luck of the draw), so you didn't dare tell him he should quiet down his moaning, especially not as you slid the lacy panties reverently down his thighs.

It was clearly his first time, and he was squirming in your grip as you gave him a teasing lick. A part of you wanted to pull back and tease him some more, but this was too good to pass up. He threw an arm over his eyes and slipped his other hand into your hair. He arched his back as you raked your nails down his thighs, and let out the sweetest noise you'd ever heard, blowing his load directly in your face before you could even get him into your mouth. After you'd finished laughing and wiped his spunk off of your face, you'd given him the sweetest kiss on the cheek. He'd gone beet red as you laughed, and hadn't said no when you promised him a shopping spree because he was just so good for you.

The sales lady at the lingered store had been surprisingly accommodating when you'd asked her if they carried up to a 3X.

He'd been your sugar baby for all of first year, even after he got his own allowance from his parents. He'd been your boyfriend the rest of your university career (of course, you still liked to treat your spoiled baby), and a few years out of school he'd asked you to marry him, with that same sweet expression he always had when he told you he loved you.

The world saw Red Riot as a strong, manly hero that took shit from nobody. They also saw him as hopelessly in love with you (or with Dynamight, depending on which magazine you read). He was a real Man's Man, always on the covers of fitness magazines or advertising sports drinks and protein powders. He advocated for always being chivalrous and brave, but that Manly Men also took the time to be vulnerable and compassionate.

One thing that hadn't changed since your days in university was the fact that your Eijirou loved to be spoiled. Shopping sprees, private chefs, weekends away… his eyes always lit up no matter what you surprised him with. You were both similarly ranked in the charts, and both made a lot of money, but he secretly adored the fact that you had a bank account you filled up every month just for him. He'd buy whatever he wanted with it, whether it was designer clothes or handbags (for either of you), or any number of things (he particularly liked buying new gym equipment that the two of you most certainly didn't need).

Today had been a hard day. You'd been overusing your quirk and your muscles were sore, not to mention you'd been working with one Lord Explosion Murder God which meant that you'd been ordered around all day.

When you got home, a note from your husband was laying on the counter. Eijirou would be home a little late, and you could order whatever for dinner. Grumbling to yourself, you refused to take yet another order from yet another person and reheated leftovers in the fridge. Take that, loving husband!

You ate standing at the counter in your uniform, and after you'd put the dishes away you marched up to your bedroom, already peeling your costume off. You left it on the bathroom floor as you hopped into the shower, and just let the hot water scald your aching muscles. You used Eijirou's body wash because you missed his smell, and changed into your pyjamas while you combed your hair.

You crawled under the covers and scrolled on your phone for a while, wishing your husband would just hurry up and come home already. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms, hear him tell you all about how he would protect you from the bad things in the world.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs woke you from a restless sleep, and you sat up in bed. How long were you asleep? Was that your Eiji?

The door opened, and what greeted you took your breath away. Your husband stood in the doorway with a sheer robe, trimmed with red faux fur. It was tied with a ribbon around his waist and accentuated his hips beautifully. He was wearing red lacy thigh highs and nothing else beneath the robe. He completed the look with a set of Louis Vuitton stilettos, which you noticed in passing due to the stunning everything else the Adonis before you was showing off.

"Hey," he purred. "Heard you had a rough day." He smirked at you as your eyes trailed up and down his body. "Can I make it better?" he took a few steps into the room, undoing the ribbon around his waist teasingly slowly. He opened the robe, letting it fall off his shoulders and rest at his elbows. He had filled out a lot since university, and he was a healthy 7'6 and twice as wide as you. He could lift you with one arm and toss you like a football if he wanted, but as he dropped his robe to the floor and elegantly clicked his way across the room towards you, he had no intention of tossing you around tonight. That thought made sparks dance around your core, and you felt your panties starting to soak.

You sat up on your knees for a better look at him. He ran his hands over his body, shamelessly showing off for you. His dick stood proud and tall and was already leaking for you. You smiled at him as you slipped into your role. "Did you buy that to look pretty for me?" you asked ever so sweetly. "Sounds like you want a reward."

He walked right up to the side of the bed with a breathy "Yes,". You leaned up for a kiss and enjoyed the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he took his time with you.

His hands gently explored your curves, squeezing the plush of your thighs and the soft skin beneath your breasts, and as you pulled back to lick your lips at him, "Anything for you, Baby," felt like the most natural thing to say.

He crawled into bed, careful not to kick you with his knife-shoes, and placed his wrists at the headboard. You attached the restraints with all the care in the world, and ran your hands over your baby's chest, admiring all of the scars that years of hero work had marked him with. "You're beautiful," you told him, leaning down for another kiss.

You painted his chest with kisses and hickies, not caring if they'd be visible the next day. Let people stare. Let people know who your man belonged to.

"I love these too," you ran your hand over his new stockings. "You know lace is my favourite."

"Always the best for mommy," he purred back, pleased with himself as you explored his body. It had become familiar to you; you knew everywhere he was sensitive. You knew how to get him going, how to slow him down, and how to drive him wild. You shrugged off your own pyjamas and he let out a noise of approval, eyes taking in your curves. "You're stunning." He offered, looking absolutely awestruck. If his hands were free, they'd be all over you, but now was not his turn for control.

You slid off your panties and tossed them off the bed, eyeing his body up with increasing lust, before suddenly straddling him and sinking down onto him with a small noise of discomfort. He let out a sharp noise of concern and pleasure, gasping. "You've gotta prep yourself!" He hissed, half-drunk on the tight squeeze.

"Shut up," you answered, and picked up a brutal pace. He let out a strangled noise and arched up into your touch, gasping and whining and looking up at you with eyes clouded by lust as he gave harsh thrusts up into your welcoming body. His hands hardened and unhardened within their restraints, along with a line along his forehead. You wrapped your hands around his throat, and he tilted his head back to bare it to you. His moans crescendoed as you began to put pressure on him, canting your hips faster and faster.

He was drunk off the lust singing in his veins and bent one of his knees to give you better leverage. You freed one of his hands from its restraint and it immediately flew to your hip to help you ride. His tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and his breath came in desperate gasps. "Gonna cum!" he whined, blinking desperately up at you. "Please mommy! Please let me fucking cum I want to cum so bad!" he babbled, blinking his pretty crimson eyes up at you.

You gently caressed his face and smiled down at him. You leaned in closer, giving him a deep kiss. "So do it," you growled. "Knock me up."

His hips faltered and the absolute roar he let out at your challenge sent a pleased shiver through you. He ripped the other restraint right off of the bedframe (along with a chunk of the frame itself) and flipped you onto your back, all without pulling out of you. He kissed you ravenously, his hands squeezing every inch of you. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand as he reached his other down to play with your clit. He threw you over the edge, and as you came around him, his thrusts changed. They were sharp and purposeful as he poured everything he had into your body.

"Mine," he growled out, sinking his fangs into the tender meat of your shoulder. He didn't dare move as the two of you came down from your highs but rolled the two of you back over so he didn't crush you. You laughed a little and cuddled into his chest, enjoying the warmth of a womb full of his cum and the delicious stretch of him inside of you, not to mention the feeling of utter safety that having his arms around you brought. "I love you." He purred, giving your forehead a kiss.

"I love you too," you answered back, smiling up at him with tenderness.

"Did you really mean it?" he traced his hands over your back, massaging your tender shoulders. "You want to start a family?"

"Mhm," you nodded tiredly, before looking back up at him once again, echoing your earlier promise: "Anything for you, Baby."

Taglist: @malicealieness (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me an ask requesting it)

#Kirishima Eijirou #sub kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima ejiro x reader #Kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #Bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha eijiro x reader #sendhelpimstupid #Memeadonna

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angryschnauzer · 3 years

Text

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.

Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.

A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;

“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”

Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.

Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.

As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;

“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”

“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”

The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;

“Hey Sue!”

“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”

“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”

“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”

A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;

“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.

“Hey”

The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;

“Oh, Hi Walter”

“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”

“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”

Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;

“Where did you want me to sit?”

“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.

“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”

Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;

“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.

Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;

“Oh wow, what is that?”

“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.

“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”

Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.

“You want yours still mooing too?”

“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.

As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.

As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;

“What? Do i have something on my face?”

“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”

Walter’s face dropped;

“She left”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”

“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”

“True”

Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;

“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”

The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;

“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”

You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;

“Potty training?”

“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”

The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;

“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”

As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;

“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”

“And Eggies?” Mikey asked

“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”

As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;

“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”

“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”

“You make that?” Walter asked

Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;

“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”

With a weak smile Walter nodded;

“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”

You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;

“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”

With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat.

You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.

Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;

“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”

As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;

“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.

Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;

“What the fuck…”

Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;

“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”

Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;

“Think we need a chat Walt”

The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;

“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”

You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;

“I have so many questions...”

“Okay”

“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”

Walter chuckled;

“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”

Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.

“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked

Walter cleared his throat;

“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”

“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice

Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;

“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”

“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”

Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;

“Because she’s bleeding”

You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;

“Oh… I should go and sort that out”

Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;

“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”

When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;

“Luna won’t appreciate it”

Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;

“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”

You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;

“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”

With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;

“What… the… FUCK?”

#blackwater lake #henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #werewolf!sy #Vampire!Walter

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emf005 · 3 years

Text

Disguised Part 1

Jack x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fights, angst

Hop you guys like! Sorry it took so long to get this out I have had one heck of a week.. lolol.. Please comment and let me know what you think!

Ten Years Earlier:

There were flames everywhere. As a seven year old you had no clue what was happening. It was hot, but it was winter. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs.

Your skin was alive with pain and stinging. You felt painfully numb. Was that even a feeling?

You coughed. And then coughed again, harder.

The room swam and you tripped over something, hitting the floor with full force. You stared at the door you had been searching for. There it was, finally. But out of reach. Why did it seem everything was always out of reach for you? Just too small to reach the top shelf, just too young to sit with the grown ups, just too female to do anything of importance…

Tears leaked from your eyes, and not just from physical pain.

The door opened and more smoke fled in. You heard footsteps running in and, with the last bit of energy you pushed yourself up. You saw the blurry edges of a familiar neighbor.

Charlie?

Then you passed out.

You woke up in a cot a few days later. Looking around the small room you realized that you were alone.

Where were you?

You heard voices and then footsteps. You shut your eyes tight again just as the door opened.

Someone sat down on your bed.

“I’s knows yous ain’t sleepin’.” Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Charles. A crutch leaned on the cot, but you didn’t pay mind. You jumped onto him, ignoring the pulling of your healing burns. You buried your head in his neck. He grabbed onto you and held you close, just as frightened as you, though he’d tell you he wasn’t. He was three years older than you and the brother you never had.

"What happened? Where am I? Where's mum and dad?" You asked. The questions pouring out of you. The last you saw them, they had been unconscious in the living room.

Instead of answering he just hugged you to his chest tighter…

Present day:

"Strike!" The Newsies, your unofficial brothers, screamed in response to Jack's very lengthy and moving monologue.

He leapt off the stage and started talking to Charles… Well, Crutchie now. He hadn't gone by that name since the fire happened and you two became newsies.

Nobody knew you were a girl and you preferred to keep it that way… although, A bit of extra attention from a certain Jack Kelly wouldn't be so bad. But beggars can't be choosers.

You watched as Katherin Plummer walked up to him and you felt your stomach drop. Rich, pretty, and successful. How could you beat that? Especially when he didn’t know you were a girl and he didn’t know your feelings.You sighed and walked to meet up with them, tasseling Race’s hair as you walked by him. He shoved you and you laughed.

“Hey!” You leaned on Crutchie’s shoulder as you joined the group. “Beautiful speech, Jacky-boy,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’s think you’s gotta future as a politician.”

“Oh hardy hardy har, Scabs.”

Scabs.

Your name.

It was pretty appropriate for a few reasons. When you and Crutchie first joined you had healing burn marks and cuts all over your body. All of them scabbing. You also always had some sort of cut on you. That you were picking at, hence all your scars. Being a newsie, especially one with a big secret, caused a lot of anxiety, you couldn’t help it.

You smirked at him and shook your head.

“So, wheres we go from here?”

“That's a question for Davey.”

“Well, where is-” before you could get your statement out, chaos broke out. You turned around to see the Delancies break into the theatre with cops on their heels. You swore, and Jack pulled Katherine to get her out of the way. She willingly applied.

Delicate little-

You didn’t get to finish your thought before you had started shoving the cops and Delancies, entering the brawl with full force.

You watched as all the boys started to get their asses kicked and then get out of the theatre. You and Jack somehow ended up side by side, fighting the delancies as the cops chased after the others. But then you saw him.

Snider the Spider stared Jack down, an evil grin on his face.

Not on your watch.

“Jack, get outta here!” You screamed. Jack looked at you.

“No!”

“Jack! Just do it!”

“But-”

“GO!” He was so startled that he dodged his last punch and ran up into the catwalk of Medda’s place. You fought off the Delancies and ran. Turning around only when you herald CRutchie scream for mercy.

You turn and see the delancies and Spider standing over him.

“Crutch!” You scream and run back over even faster than you had running away, barreling over sand bags and loose wires.

The Delancies and Snider watched you and left CRutchie alone coming after you instead. You watched as Crutchie crawled away.

Morris came at you with a swing. You easily dodged it and threw him into his brother who stumbled back into Snider. You laughed and turned, about to make your get away. Instead you ran straight into an officer who threw you back onto the floor. Morris and Oscar attacked, like hungry piranhas, though they at least were prettier and smelled better.

You felt pain erupt all over you until it was gone and you felt nothing, saw nothing, and for a few hours were nothing…

Jack stumbled back into the Manhattan Newsies’ terf. The boys were all hanging around, checking on each other after the brawl.

He couldn’t believe they got Crutchie.

“Damn Crip,” he mumbled, shaking his head, not knowing what to do next.

“Jack!” he looked up when Race called his name. He came running up to him. “Jack, where Scab?”

“Scab?” Jack’s eyes widened. No. They couldn’t have gotten you, too. You-you had run. He saw you.

He heard the familiar Thunk Thunk of a crutch. He looked up and saw Crutchie a bit battered, but alive and here.

“Crutchie!?” The crippled boy swallowed, tears in his eyes.

“They-they got ‘er, Jack.” he rasped out. “Jack-they they got ‘er.”

He collapsed, his crutch falling out from under him. Jack caught him and Race left, letting them talk alone.

“Who’s her, Crutchie? WHo’s got her? How did you escape?” Crutchie swallowed.

“Y/N, they got, Y/N.”

“Who has her,” Jack said, a bit confused not knowing Crutchie had himself a girl.

“Snider!” He exploded, hitting Jack’s chest. “They got ‘er, Jack! They got ‘er.” He sobbed, his voice breaking.

“Ok, ok. How did he get your girl, Crutchie. Just calm down and explain it.” Crutchie stared at him for a second not understanding why he was acting like he was until he realized he used your real name.

Crutchie settled himself and took a breath.

“Jack, Y/N is Scab.” Jack stared at his friend for a moment.

“What?’ Crutches sighed and lowered himself to the ground.

“I think you need to have a seat, Jack.

You had woken up in the refuge, staring at the ceiling, a thin stream of moonlight streamed through the small barred slit in the wall that was considered a “window”. You were almost as wanted as Jack was. Only the best accommodations for the Enemy number 2, right?

You sighed and shivered as the wind blew in and froze your toes, the scratchy, old, thin blanket doing nothing to protect you.

“Y/N!” You look up to see Crutchie at the slit in the wall. You eyes widen and you spring up, running to him.

“Crutch! What are you doin’ here. Are you dumb or something?”

“I needed to make sure you were ok, kid.” You sighed. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you put your head on the bars. “How are the boys? Everyone makes it out alright?”

“Yeah, but I have someone who wants ta see ya.”

He stepped out of the way and revealed Jack. You stared at him and knew immediately that he knew. That Crutchie had told him. You had never wanted to kill the boy who was like your brother more in your life.

“Hey, Scab, how ya doin’?”

“You told him,” you glared at Crutchie and he looked away, not being able to meet your eyes. “The hell, Crutch!” You shouted as loud as you dared. Snider was listening… always was… and you didn’t want to get the boys caught.

“Scab-er-Y/N, are you ok?” Jack asked, concern filling his expression. You looked at him, grateful for the street lights that hid your face, yet illuminated his.

“I’m fine, Jack. Did anyone else get caught?”

They shook their heads and you sighed.

“Good.” You heard footsteps coming down the hall. You looked over your shoulder and swallowed. They heard you. They had to of.”You guys should get going.”

“But-”

“Do yous wanna get caught?” he swallowed and shook his head.

“We’ll get you outta here.”

“No, Jacky-boy, I don’t think you will. Do the strike and do it good. Win.” He opened his mouth to object, but you looked at Crutchie. “Get ‘im and yourself outta here before yous get caught.” He looked down and tugged Jack’s sleeve, pulling him away from you. As they made their way down the fire escapes he caught a glimpse of you in the light and his eyes widened with horror as he took in your face. Bloodied, bruised, and puffy. They had got you good… and that was not going to fly...

#crutchie newsies #newsies #new fic #jack kelly #jack kelly x reader #jack kelly x newsies #Jack kelly x y/n #Jack kelly x you #crutchie x you #crutchie x reader #crutchy x y/n #crutchie x newsies

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script-nef · 3 years

Text

Confession in the moonlight | Gojou Satoru

Category: fluff

2.2k words; Hatsumoude date [6/6]

Happy New Year everyone!

← Previous chapter | Masterlist

Bells and chatter are almost deafening even this late into the night. Families and friends are gathering here, mingling and pushing against each other in the narrow path leading up to the shrine. There are so many carts lined up on the sides, owners screaming their products and shouting over another.

And you're walking through the crowd with the one person who you want to avoid the most in the world.

Thanks to the event which is now dubbed "The Alcohol Incident That Can Never Happen Again", you learned about a couple of things in the following days.

First, alcohol is the enemy. This is ironclad and nothing will ever shift your opinion on it. Alcohol. Is. The. Enemy. None of it will ever touch your lips again.

Second, you discovered what type of a drunk you are. The clingy, bubbly one who has the misfortune of remembering practically everything that happened. Worst combination ever. Because your brain wants you to die from embarrassment. The only plus is that you don't feel like throwing up and you don't have headaches. Whatever Gojou fed you worked wonders.

Just thinking his name makes you want to slam your head into a wall.

Facing him again after that has proven to be a challenge. The memory of what happened on that day intrudes every time you see his face and then you have to take a break to calm down. Faking ignorance and acting as though you remember nothing from the night was your choice. Which was a bad choice since you’re not known for your acting skills and you also have the misfortune of wearing your heart on your sleeve. Which brings on the next problem.

Third, you… seem to have feelings for Gojou. The romantic kind. Like, the boyfriend-girlfriend kind. When you woke up the next day, it was probably the most clear your mind had been in months. Alcohol is a confusing drink. Still, you're never going to go near it again. Making a fool out of yourself once is enough.

Lastly, perhaps most importantly, you basically confessed to him. While drunk. And then went to sleep.

Sitting up in bed the morning after, hair everywhere and jacket still on, you did an analysis.

It's like a typical light novel cliché. A guy and a girl, co-workers or something like that, comfortable with each other, hangs out all the time, one major event or couple of minor events happens, the girl falls in love with the guy or vice-versa, confession and then happy ending.

It all kind of made sense with your new, alcohol-cleaned brain. The fluttering feelings, the spike in heart rate, the uncontrollable blushing and noticing physical contact more. There’s a reason why he’s so comfortable to be around, why you practically entrusted your life in his hands. And you literally said to him once, you think in the movie theatre, that he would make a good boyfriend. To his face. Who says that? Embarrassment turns into self loathing. It makes you wonder how you didn’t notice it last time.

With this new shocking revelation, you didn’t know what to do. Confess? If there is even the slightest bit of chance he doesn’t like you back and rejects you, life will be hell to live. Because you live in the same goddamn place, work together and all of your friends are his friends.

So two options. Three outcomes. One: you confess and he accepts and everything is fine. Ideal. Two: you confess and he rejects you and so you leave the place, never come back again and work in a farm halfway across the world by changing your identity. That sounded reasonable enough. Three: you don’t confess and somehow act naturally around him. This has problems because, again, you wear your heart on your sleeve. It’s still very tempting. More so than the second one. This is perhaps the most difficult decision you’ve made in your life.

So you turned to the one person you can vent this kind of thing on. Shouko. Who looked at you like you were either stupid or dense. Maybe both. Definitely both. It was quite amazing what she could express while moving the least amount of facial muscles.

“So… yeah. I think I like Gojou and I don’t know which of the options I should take. Help me?”

She just stared at you. With a deadpan face that has all the stress and exasperation in the world. You pride yourself in being able to read other’s faces quite easily. Rubbing her fingers over her eyes and groaning for a bit, she eventually took her phone out and dialled a number. The line rang for a bit.

“Ijichi? You owe me 10,000 yen.” Clicking off the phone even before hearing a response, Shouko turned her focus back to you. “You seriously don’t know?”

“Don’t know what? What was the phone call about?”

“That he likes you? That’s he’s insufferable because of that? You seriously don’t know?” She inched closer and closer until her face was right in front of yours. Shouko is seriously scary when she’s angry, like a sleeping lion. And you just somehow poked her. “Look at me in the eyes. You seriously never realised?”

“Um, what?”

“The dates. Remember when I couldn’t go to the movie for Howl because someone came in? I immediately gave it to him because I owed him a favour and he wanted to spend time with you. The time he went shopping with you by flying. Do you know why he offered that in the first place?”

“I mean, it was getting late… And I was in a bad mood so— oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. Do you get it now?”

“So then… the dinner, that was also…”

“A date.” Sighing, she sits back on the sofa, letting her head drop onto the backrest. Thoughts jumble inside your head, all of them slowly clicking into place.

“Wait, so. He likes me?”

Annoyed moans are her response as she thuds her head into the furniture. Something along the lines of “Why me.” could be heard.

“So him inviting me to hatsumoude today is also a date?” Her hand waves lazily in the air.

“Yes, it is. Tell me you accepted.” You nodded, then realised that she can’t see from her position.

“I did. I can’t really say no to him.” She makes a gagging sound.

“Good. Finally. So just confess to him then. He’ll accept, you’ll be happy, he’ll be happy, and we’ll all finally be free.”

“Free of what.”

“Your denseness.” She snaps, sitting back up. Fire burns in her irises. “It’s like the Chinese story, the one with the shield and the spear. You’re the shield, oblivious to every single one of his advances and he’s the spear, never giving up. And we’re the spectators who are bored and tired. So dress up in your prettiest clothes and go.”

And that’s why you’re walking up the steps to the shrine, swaddled in clothing. Gojou is right next to you, enjoying mochi he bought from somewhere and humming. He’s humming while you’re having one of the worst crises of your life. God, you envy his ability to keep cool.

Making every effort to keep calm and not look move your head in his general direction, you finally arrive at the bell. The sound resonates clearly into the night. Coins clink into the offering box. Two bows, two claps, pray, one bow. Your wish is the same as always, with one more sentence. Gojou copies you, mochi finished and trash discarded.

The way down is much easier, your heart a little lighter. Maybe the rest of the night will be fine.

This is a delusion and you realise it as soon as Gojou opens his mouth.

“What did you wish for?” His voice cuts through the commotion, nudging for your attention. You flinch a bit at the closeness but try to regain your composure. If he saw it, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I—I wished for everyone I love to survive the fight with Sukuna and have a peaceful retirement. Especially Ken-chan.” In actuality, you did wish for that but also for a way to confess. He doesn’t need to know that yet. Your voice trembles a bit, betraying you.

“You do know that saying it out loud negates the wish right?” There’s a delighted tone in his voice, like he’s happy he baited you. How is a person this childish? And what does that say about you, the person who likes him? A hand ruffles your head before you have a chance to lament your heart. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your wish comes true.” Your heart thumps.

It’s so unfair how he always knows what to say. It’s so unfair that it’s having this kind of effect on you. Your earlobes grow hot and you scramble to find a reply.

“What did you wish for then?” He shifts his head to look at you. “Yeah, I know. It won’t come true if you say it out loud, but if you can protect everyone and save the human race, I’m sure it's not up to the gods or spirits whether or not your wish comes true.”

He seems to contemplate it. Then nods.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not up to them.”

“See? So what’s yo—”

“It’s up to you.”

You nearly trip over one of the stone tiles, flailing for balance. Of course Gojou comes to your rescue, hands gently gripping at your sides. The first problem here is that your reaction was too obvious. You can’t feign ignorance now, like you didn’t hear him over the crowd. The second is that you just made a fool of yourself. Which leads to the third problem.

He is way too close.

“You okay?” And now he’s whispering. The blushing worsens. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s a clearing in the forest a bit away, a smaller dilapidated shrine on the edge of it. A small pond is in the middle, fireflies skimming over the surface and glimmering beautifully.

“There you go.” He guides you to the steps of the ruined shrine, letting you sit down but stays standing. Shifting on his feet, neck cracking as he rolls it. Nervous energy leaks out of him. Wait, is this—

“I don’t know what to say. I’ve rehearsed this like, hundreds of times but my heart is kind of going crazy.” So is yours. He comes back to you then lowers himself to one knee. Your heart stops. “I’m not proposing. Not yet. I’ve heard dating comes first.”

One of your hands slots into his. He removes his blindfold, revealing his cerulean eyes to you for the second time. Breath hitches and he most definitely heard it because his smile, no matter how tentative it was, becomes full and true.

“Let’s get to the main point straight away. I like you.” The words burn you alive and you try to take your hand back but his grip is strong. So you do the next best thing. Averting your face. “I know you do too. I also know you remember the night. Your acting skills are terrible. And Shouko told me.” If you’re not drowning in mortification and something that feels vaguely like hope, you might hit him. And Shouko.

But the second you face him, you see him. The heart-gripping worry in his eyes, the way he’s smiling to cover for his anxiousness, the light trembling in his fingers. It’s so different to his normal self, the aloof and laid-back aura completely dissipated. This is what you do to him?

“I’m not good at this. But I mean every word when I say that you’re the kindest, cutest and the most loveable person that I’ve ever met. You put up with me, and that’s saying a lot.” Protest is at the tip of your tongue, ready to argue that he should stop being so hard on himself and that you genuinely like spending time with him, but he recognises the look on your face and laughs delightedly. “See? So ready to come to my defence, even if it’s me you have to fight. Everyone’s fed up with me to some extent, and I know you are as well, but you still put up with me. That’s what made me fall for you. That unlimited kindness.”

He presses a kiss to the palm of your hand and it feels like he’s giving you his heart at the same time. Love shines in his eyes and clogs at your throat. A shuddering breath passes over the both of you. But then the cheeky smile comes back.

“I think that’s enough to sweep you off your feet. Is your heart beating fast?” A nod. “Hands clammy?” A nod. “Think you can manage granting me my wish?”

A wave of calm washes over. Gojou’s words, filled with sincerity and bare hearted emotions, turn into butterflies that travel to every inch in your body. It’s delightful and there’s no way you can live without hearing it again.

The distance between your lips close, and you swear your heart synchronises with his when they finally touch.

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