#i told you my english is TRASH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serawritesthings · 9 months

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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.

OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut Word Count | 10k A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡

While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.

Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in.

The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man.

You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth.

“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body.

“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.

“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger.

Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.

“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject.

“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.

As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.

“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.

“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.

You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.

“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.

You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.”

Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.

“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll.

Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door.

He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur.

You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose.

“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look.

“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure.

–

Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach.

“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn.

He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn’t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.

He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.

“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.

“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.

“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”

As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West.

Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.

Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.

Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.

What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.

“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.

“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.

“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”

“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”

He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.

“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours.

“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing.

“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff.

“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.

Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height.

“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much.

It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.

You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.

“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.

“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.

“Cold?”

“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.

“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work.

Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.

“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.

“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.

“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”

“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”

He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words.

“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled.

It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”

“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.

Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.

It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.

“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.”

“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.

“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.

“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”

“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving.

Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.

You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.

His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.

“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.

“Yes, kind.”

Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.

“Sure.”

–

It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway.

It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.

Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.

Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite.

If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.

And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby.

Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.

He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.

It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.

Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.

“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”

“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.

“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.

Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.

Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people.

Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.

“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.

You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears.

As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.

How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.

How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable.

“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.

“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes.

You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls.

“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.

“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”

“No, I-”

“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”

His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did.

“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”

You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.

“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.

“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture.

You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.

Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes.

He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being.

So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.

“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.

He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.

“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle.

“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”

A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”

As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.

“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him.

Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips.

Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.

“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something.

Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.

And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.

“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.

Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.

“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.

And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.

It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground.

“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm.

“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.

It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.

You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch.

It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.

“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.”

You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.

You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking.

“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.

“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.

You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck.

Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.

Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own.

He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.

And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him.

But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh.

His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.

It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.

The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers.

“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night.

Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.

“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval.

You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.

He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.

A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions.

For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.

And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.

“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.

“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.

Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.

“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.

“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.”

He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him.

While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck.

You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.

Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else.

You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you.

God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.

“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.

“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control.

Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.

He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.

Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements.

Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.

“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.

He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.

Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before.

Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.

Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.

“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.

“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”

“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.

They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.

“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.

“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.

“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.

“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.

“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face.

The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.

You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.

Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly.

Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you.

“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.

The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.

As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.

“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.

“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come.

“Are you jealous of Charles?”

If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.

If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled.

“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs.

“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.”

Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him.

“Only me, right?”

“Only you, stupid.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption imagine #red dead redemption smut #red dead smut

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sweetnans · 3 months

Text

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K.

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.2 Pt.3 ♡

m.list

Blame it on the ovulation process. You couldn't believe that you ended up making out (drunkly) and fucking the one and only Bakugo Katsuki.

Bakugo was a total pain in the ass back in UA high school, and after the big battle, when the doctor told him to cooperate after his heart injury and surgery, he changed for better. Well... better is a word to describe it.

He had the looks, he had the attitude, and now, in College UA, he found a way to get the chicks at his feet. Who knew he would be good at flirting and getting the female attention, putting aside his obnoxious and loud behavior?

In the other part, you knew better, but damn, now you felt bad, betrayed by your own hormones, doing the walk of shame to your room.

Bakugo Katsuki was a fucking legend in college, the major fuckboy, hoping from chick to chick and jeez that broke all your standards about boys, how did you even end up in his room?

Oh, that was a good question that you could answer. Fucking cosmopolitans made by Denki and Jirou, they wrecked all your senses and because the planets were aligned you ended ip tearing up all his clothes along with him grabbing every part of your body while eating your mouth. He was a good kisser though.

You slid your keys on the lock of your room door. Jirou was there in her bed, laying with Denki who was sound asleep.

"Girl," she sat in seconds at the sight of you, patting Denki's arm to wake him up.

"Don't," you told her, completely defeated. "I just wanna cry"

You couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.

For you, giving Bakugo your body and an intimate moment wasn't something to be happy for. He wasn't in your to-do list compared to other girls that you knew were dying for a peak of him.

You believed in love, in the vulnerability that it brought alongside the happiness and the sappiness. You wanted to be loved and not be used. For you, Bakugo wasn't a trophy, he was a mistake.

"Just let it go." Jirou hugged you tightly. "Did he do something to you?"

"No, no," you cried in her shoulder, feeling her arms around your body and Denki cli ging in your back. "He was a complete gentleman,"

You hated yourself for reacting like that. The man gave you all of his stamina pounding himself into you, and he was almost romantic about it. You were a fool, not like you were catching feeling upon the act, not at all. You just didn't want to be one more of his long ass list.

You had a single rule. Don't sleep with people you don't have feelings for. You knew that for some people, it was easy not to get attached but for you, even if you didn't feel anything like sentimental after the act you ended up craving the affection and the tenderness that came up with a relationship.

You've slept with boyfriends in the past and you did good with friends with benefits because at least there was a friendship to cling on, in this case, you only knew Bakugo by name and because Denki, your bestfriend's and roommate's boyfriend hangout occasionally with his group.

"I'll avoid him," you told your friends. "And everything's going to be fine"

You dried your tears and excused yourself, gathering your belongings to go and take a shower. You could still feel his scent in your skin.

Walking to the common woman bathroom, you tried to block the memories in your mind, and it worked until you opened the door.

"Hey," the pink girl greeted while putting on make-up in front of the mirror. "Oh my god, I know you, you are the girl from the party last night, right?"

Mina Ashido, one of Bakugo closest friend.

"Yeah," you tried to smile, but you failed. God wasn't on your side today.

"Are you okay?" She asked worried.

What could have given you away? Oh, your swollen and red eyes for sure.

"Yeah, I'm just hungover." You tried to laugh her worry away, and when Jirou asked about the encounter, you told her that you wanted to believe that it worked. But you never fooled anyone.

"Me too" she said giggling.

Thank god she didn't push it.

"I'm going to shower, so see you later...?" You said, and it sounded like a plan, but you just wanted to be nice with her.

"Oh, before you go, do you have any tampons? My period just came early this month. I think it's a reaction after drinking a huge amount last night"

Hormones, you knew about that.

Shit, period? Did he wear any condoms? I mean, you had your anti-babies method and all, but what about STD?

"Hello? Calling from earth, " Mina waved his hand in front of your face and you regained consciousness.

"Shit, yeah, sorry, here." You led her your last tampon from your bag.

"Thank you so much," Mina said, grabbing all her things into her purse. "I will see you around"

That encounter only made things worse. Albeit you wanted to avoid the bastard you needed to find him to have the most embarrassing talk of all.

You knew Bakugo's sexual life like the palm of your hand. The rumors on campus spread like the Black Death in medieval Europe. You prayed that your name wouldn't appear on those rumors.

It was easy finding him among his friends, the red-headed enormous cinnamon roll, the tall one with the tape quirk, and, of course, Mina.

You approached slowly and tensed. The first one on seeing you was Mina, who was happy to see you again after you gave her your last tampon. She waved his hand in your direction, and you smiled at her, trying to dissipate your nerves.

The time has come.

"Hey, uhm, I need to talk to you." You twisted your hands nervously after patting his shoulder to gain his attention. He turned around, and when caught that it was you in front of him, he just glared at you from above, the sun at his back making you squint your eyes a little. "In private," you said to complete your previous sentence.

He wasn't even giving you the time of the day before he was almost laughing at your face.

"Sorry, princess, I don't do rebounds." he solidly huffed at you with a side smile and all.

Mina was the first one to scold him while his friends just whined at his behavior.

That damn motherfucker son of a bitch bastard.

Your face passed from being the normal shade of your foundation and skin to a different shade of red. How could he be such a cunt about it?

But you had your mouth, too.

"Oh no, don't worry, I haven't seen a dick as small as yours, and you think I want to repeat that shit show? Oh, please. I just wanted to check if you have any STD I have to be aware of"

You lied about his dick at least. The only truth was that you didn't want to repeat the act.

The boys that were hanging out with him turned around to hide the giggling mess they were, while Bakugo only grunted in response, clenching his fist beside his stiff body.

"Why? Is there a problem down there? Is it itching or falling off?" He squinted his eyes at you, trying vehemently to put you down with his words. You denied moving your head like you didn't care at all about his attitude. "I don't have any STD. You should have seen it yourself when you were sucking me off"

Well, that was something a few people around heard. Scratch the "Don't be part of the rumor" from the list.

"Yeah, I should've had, but I forgot to bring my magnifying glass with me, that's completely on me, not your fault that you weren't blessed with something as big as your fucking ego"

The hushed screams of his friends were the beat you needed to turn around and leave him hanging. He had a piercing mouth, and you were almost trembling from the exchange of words, and yet, you didn't have the answer that you expected. Was he clean or not? Bakugo was a trustworthy man? Jeez, what a fucker.

Again, for the second time of the day you made your own walk of shame to your room.

"And, what did he say?" Jirou was waiting for you while she gathered all her belongings (and Denki's) to her side of the room.

"He said he doesn't have STD but I don't know if I should trust him...the scene was pretty intense." You sat in your bed, and she looked at you incredulously.

"Intense, how?" She quirked a brow, and you just shrugged before telling her everything.

"You did what!?" Denki stomped through the door. He was obviously listening behind the door like an old woman.

You hid your face in between your hands, internally screaming exhausted because of your poor decisions. Why did you leave the party with him of all people?

"He just nipped under my skin, and I had to defend myself, that's all," you tried to excuse yourself.

"You know that encounter is going to be the gossip of the week, right?" Jirou tapped your head gaining your attention. "You can't run of it"

"Jeez, I know"

All the situation was escalating from bad to worse real quick.

"Okay, fine, let's chill for a sec," Denki interrupted. "I'll find out about Kacchan medical records and I'll let you know, don't worry about it"

That's a good friend.

"Yeah, Denki can take care of that while you..."

"While I what?" You took your face off your hands.

"You know the rumor is going to spread before monday, right? You have to talk to Aizawa before he knows all of it in the worst way"

Shit. You had completely forgotten about the man who was kind enough to take you under his wing and be your guardian.

This was about to get good.

Let me know if you like it

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evanpetersmybf · 8 months

Text

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

2K notes · View notes

peachysunrize · 4 months

Text

The Ballad of a Dragon ⥃ Modern!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after an argument with your husband, you find him playing his frustration away and eventually apologizes to you on top of his piano.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, oral(F!receiving) fingering, Aemond eats pussy like a champ, both parties are so petty, post argument/make up sex, hand kink, body worship, Aemond knows how to work with those fingers, he plays piano👀 tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3 no beta...

Word count: 3.15k+

A/n: so this pure filth is based on this post, and @barbieaemond motivated me to write it! So thank you, my love, and thanks to Aemond’s long fingers for being a great inspiration to write a hand kink fic. I’m also taking a little break from writing for a month or so<3

“You just came home, Aemond! We had a reservation for tonight that you missed, you arrived at midnight from work and now you are taking a call to go and fix Rhaenyra’s stupid mistakes again?” You groan, pacing around your bedroom with Aemond burying his face in his hands, sitting on the bed in front of you.

“I can’t just turn a blind eye to them when they need help!” He explains, raising his voice a little. He is frustrated beyond words; work has been hectic lately and the company’s responsibility has fallen on his shoulders, forcing him to carry the weight alone.

“You’re already half blind, it wouldn’t hurt to close your other eye and ignore them for once!” You know you shouldn’t have said that, but you’re fed up with all the negligence, nights staying up just for him to either sleep in his office or crawl into bed at four in the morning.

It isn’t his fault mostly, it’s the pressure his father, siblings, and Otto put on him, but you wish he would say something and stand up for himself.

“That was a very low blow, wife,” he says through gritted teeth, glaring at you as he puts his elbows on his knees, “I can’t let her mess up everything we have worked so hard for! This company will be ruined if I don’t fix Rhaenyra’s fuck ups!”

“It’s not your responsibility, Aemond! It’s hers! It’s her mistake, it’s her fucking fault! I shouldn’t be begging my husband to make time for me, his wife, and spend some time home! You reserved the table, you told me to get ready because you wanted to take me out on a date! I’m just glad I didn’t go to the restaurant myself or tomorrow’s headlines would have been worse for your reputation than Rhaenyra’s mistake can ever be.”

“My work is my priority! This is my family’s business, do you know what that is? Family? Because by the way you’re acting, I’m not quite sure you have the slightest idea.” He stands up as well, running his fingers through his hair as each word falls from his lips and you feel the sting of each one in your chest.

“I can’t believe you, Aemond. How can your work be any more important than your wife?! How? I get it, you’re this tough guy, knight in shining armor always trying to get on your father’s good side and want his praises. I get it, you’re desperate for his affection. But what about me? I spent hours getting ready for my husband, just for you to treat me like trash! I left my family because of you, Aemond, and I would do it a thousand times more because I love you. Although I can’t say the same about you.” You know it was a pathetic move to get a rise out of him, but after what he said, it’s only fair to treat him just as he is treating you.

Tears sting your eyes as you look at how red he has gotten, knowing that you’ve woken up the hot-tempered dragon inside him. Good, he needs to feel ashamed and angry for how small he made you feel with each mean word that he said.

“You think I don’t love you anymore?” He asks, his voice barely above whispering, but you hear him perfectly and see how rapidly his chest is moving with the deep breaths he is trying to take.

“No, but I can’t deny that I’m doubting it. You put work over the family we created together, over your wife, and you want me to accept it without complaining, without telling you how much I miss you and how it hurts to be apart from you while you constantly choose your work over me!” You sob, putting your hands on your hips as you turn away from him. Even the sight of him makes your heart clench.

“I’m working my ass off for you to be content with your life, to have enough money to waste on petty and unnecessary stuff—“

“Don’t you dare guilt trap me, Aemond Targaryen! Don’t you fucking dare make me feel bad for wanting to spend time with my husband!” You nearly scream at him, tears now falling freely from your eyes as you turn around to look at him.

Even at this moment, he looks so beautiful — silver hair shining under the dim light of the room, his white shirt unbuttoned a little and his sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would have jumped on him the second he walked through that door.

“I can not control my siblings! They are idiots, sure but do you have any idea how bad their actions can destroy everything we have worked so hard for? I need to go because my father called.” he tries to reach for you, but you pull your hand away from him, taking a step back because you can’t bear him trying to sweet talk his way out of this like he always does. You shouldn’t let him minimize your feelings.

“Your father or Otto? Did he say if you save Rhaenyra’s ass, you would become Viserys Targaryen’s favorite child? It looks as if his affection is worth more than our marriage.”

“Stop with this nonsense, you know it’s not!” he glares at you, his pupil blown with rage. How could you ever think like that? Did he truly drive himself away from you to the point that you doubted his love for you?

“Do I, Aemond? Do I? Because instead of apologizing to me you are telling me how your work was more important than not showing up for a date you organized! I felt so beautiful, Aemond, so happy that after such a long time my husband was going to come to pick me up and spend the night with me! Now I just… I just feel so fucking stupid for getting my hopes high.”

You watch him take a deep breath, shaking his head as he marches out of the room swiftly, not bothering to spare a glance at you. He is frustrated, you get it, but to leave in the middle of an important argument like a child being denied a candy is pretty immature of him.

You sigh and wipe your tears, walking towards your wardrobe to pull out one of your sheer nightgowns, changing into it to sleep in something comfortable while your husband's side of the bed gets colder by the second.

The sound of music fills the house gradually, taking you by surprise. The last thing you expect is to hear your husband’s favorite classical piano piece echoing within the walls, and you halt in your steps, guilt creeping inside your chest as you listen to the distant sound of the piano before you grab your robe and walk toward the playroom.

You find the door open already — the orange hue of the lights illuminates his silver hair and sharp jawline, his eye is closed while his fingers move in rhythm, each finger pressing the right note on the tempo, and you can see the frustration and tension leaving his shoulders the longer he plays.

Nocturne in C-sharp minor fills the air around you, and you remember how he played this the first time the two of you met; it was filled with so much laughter and excitement as he gushed about his love for classical pieces, how hard he tried to regain his posture and strength while he lost half of his eyesight. You guess you fell in love with him at that very second he sat behind the piano in the instrumental shop.

Your gaze falls on his hand, long denty fingers moving with grace, pressing the keys one by one, and you lean on the doorframe, fidgeting with the hem of your robe while you rub your thighs together, the images of how those same fingers have given you the most blissful orgasms ever flooding your mind.

You watch him pushing the pedals down, his eye following the path of the notes he has memorized on the keys, and you keep admiring his ethereal form. Sometimes it feels unbelievable to be the wife of such a beautiful and otherworldly man, to be this lucky to call yourself Mrs. Targaryen, yet, there are moments you recall how everyone told you that the same name comes with a curse, that Targaryen men are ambitious and cunning. They are right on both matters.

The slickness between your thighs gets worse the more you stare at him and his skillful fingers move as if this is the easiest piece known to mankind with how smoothly he is playing it.

He plays the last note, sighing softly as he retrieves his fingers from the keys, turning around to look at you with an easy smile on his thin lips.

“Thought you had left before I heard you playing,” you say, matching his smile, growing a bit nervous with how his eye drinks the sight of your exposed thighs.

“I had half a mind to do so,” he replies, extending his hand to show he wants you close, “C’mere,”

You push away from the doorframe, walking to where he is sitting before trailing your hand over his extended arm, his large palms coming to rest on your waist. He looks up at you, fingers gently massaging your back.

“I’m sorry, I…”

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your stomach before placing his chin on the soft flesh, “I should apologize. I didn’t realize how terrible I was treating you. You are my priority, I should have treated you much better.”

“I…I was in the wrong too. It was very pathetic of me to act so desperately, I know how much your work means to you—“

“No, no,” he stands up, caging you between his body and the piano, forcing you to sit a bit on the keys, a not-so-great sound coming out of the instrument, “You aren’t desperate, and even if you are, you do have a great excuse for it. I neglected you for a job that can be done by anyone.”

“It was a petty argument anyway, I’m sorry for being mean. I miss you so much, that’s all,” you say, gasping when he picks you up so effortlessly by the back of your thighs, putting you on top of his royal piano before he takes home between your legs.

“I miss you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to peck the corner of your lips, “I could see how truly desperate you were when you rubbed your pretty thighs together.”

“Y-you saw that?” You exhale, craning your neck to give him more space to attack the skin of your neck, littering his little bruises and bites all over you.

“I know my wife, I know her weaknesses. I could smell you from here, and I’m sure if I were to touch you down there…” he locks his eye with yours, one of his hands traveling down towards your panties, chuckling darkly, “my my, so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your essence off them while he holds eye contact, watching how your lips part in desire as you keep your gaze fixed on his lips and tongue.

“Lay down, I need to apologize to my wife properly,” he pulls the strings of your robe, dropping the fabric on the floor, revealing the sheer fabric to his hungry eye, “I’m an idiot for taking you for granted. Fuck, baby, you look so delicious.”

You pant as his words go straight to your core, heat filling your belly and your wetness oozing out of you slowly. He puts his palm on your chest, gently pushing you back on the cold surface of the piano before he spreads your legs properly, humming as his good eye finds your glistening cunt.

He kisses your knee before pulling his chair closer and sit on it, his tall body giving him the advantage of coming to the same height as your body. Aemond preps your inner thighs with kisses, marking his territory with each nibble and bite which are rewarded by gasps and whimpers from you ever here and there.

He kisses your navel sweetly, nuzzling his head into your hand when you reach down to smooth a few wandering strands of his hair out of his face. You keep him close when he finally, after who knows how long, gives into his urges and attaches his lips to your buzzing clit, moaning as your sweet nectar finally roots its taste onto his tongue.

He is starved, and you realize soon with how he keeps his face buried into your cunt, tongue flickering over the bundle of nerves, teeth sinking into your flesh a little. He doesn’t seem to care about how messy he is eating you out, he has set his goal of making you at least come on his tongue twice tonight.

“Aemond!” your moans fill the room, back arching off the piano as he keeps you down by his hands on your hips, the tip of his tongue collecting your wetness happily while you writhe beneath him, feeling the knot in your belly tightening by the second.

He knows you like the back of his hand, so he speeds up a little, focusing on sucking and licking your clit while you buck your hips to his face. He loves how desperate you are for him, all laid out and pretty and ready to come just for him.

“Fuck, love, I’m—” You throw your head back, tangling your fingers through his hair before you explode on his tongue, whines of pleasure making him dizzy. He keeps flickering his tongue until you stop twitching and push his face away from your swollen pussy.

He grins at your breathless form, caressing your thighs as he stands up and kisses a path from your lower belly up to your lips over your nightgown before he pulls you in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his pink bruised lips.

“I could feast on you all day, sweetheart. I should write a ballad in honor of your pretty cunt,” “You are unbelievable!” You giggle, leaning on your elbows to kiss him again, moving until you are at the edge with your husband between your legs, “You said twice, why are you still up here?” You whisper against his lips.

“I saw how you looked at my hands earlier. I think it would be only fair to make sure you forgive me if I fuck you with my fingers, hmm? You love them, I’m sure they can be convincing enough.”

You nod, words failing to come out of your mouth when he pushes the strands of your nightgown down your shoulders, the chilly air of the room hitting your bare breasts. He leans down to kiss the top of your chest, writing the ballad he promised with his lips over your skin.

His hand moves down where he was a few minutes ago, long digits rubbing between your soaked folds slowly. He makes sure you aren’t as sensitive as you were before he pushes one finger in, keeping you close to him with a hand on your back while the other works his finger in and out of you, drowning your moans with passionate kisses.

He adds another one, curving his fingers inside you slightly as he pushes them deeper, reaching your sweet spots effortlessly with how skilled and long his fingers are — courtesy of practicing piano from a young age.

“Aemond, fuck—please!” your desperate whine adds fuel to the fire starting inside him, and he compiles, fucking you faster with his hand while the rock of his palm rubs your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

You fall apart again easily, gasping as your thighs start shaking with how good he makes you come, lips forming into an O-shape while he keeps his pace up, making sure that you ride your high gracefully before he pulls you in for another rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth quickly.

“I need you so much, sweetheart,” he says, unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down enough to pull out his weeping cock, “let me have you, baby, please.” “Yes, yes I need you too. It’s been so so long, Aem,” you reach to stroke him gently, scooting closer to him so he can pull you down a little, keeping you tucked between his firm body and piano while somehow holding you up by his large palms under your ass.

You guide him toward your entrance, gasping in union as soon as the fat tip of his cock breaches past your ring of muscles before he pushes himself deep inside you until there is none to take.

You cling to his shoulders as soon as he settles inside your cunt, his hot breath fanning on your face as he gets adjusted to your warmth. It’s been too long for both of you, but he makes a promise to not make the same mistake again, ever.

“Fuck, love, I missed you so much,” he groans in your ear as he starts thrusting up into you, the angle making him reach the deepest part of your pussy easily.

“Me too, baby…” you gasp, hips snapping into his as he goes faster, less patient and ready to devour you thoroughly. You take what he gives you, deep hard strokes that rock your world and leave you breathless and a moaning mess. He relishes every sound that falls from your lips, thinking to himself how no classical piece can ever come close to how beautiful you sound when he pleasures you, and he silently beats himself for neglecting you so much.

He is close, embarrassingly fast and he can feel you tightening around his girth with each thrust. Aemond hides his face in your neck, quickening his pace as he fucks you roughly, pulling screams of ecstasy out of you with ease.

“Come inside me,” you bite his earlobe, your breasts rubbing against his covered chest as you lean upward a little, “I need you, please, husband.”

“Then come with me, come now so I can give my girl what she wants,” he replies, snapping his hips faster into yours until you crumble in his arms, gushing around his cock a few seconds before he follows you, keeping his hips still as he pumps you full of his warm cum, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

“Don’t you dare put us through that again, Aem, do you hear me?” you ask him, kissing the side of his face lovingly.

“I’d rather die than upset you again, beloved.”

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #modern aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:angst

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nanaslutt · 10 months

Note

hello, i hope youre good !

may you please write one day about y/n sending hot pics for satoru ?

sorry if I spoke something wrong, english isnt my first language :] take ur time and have a good day ! 💞

Your english is perfect ml, please enjoy! <3

Contains: fem reader, established relationship, sending nudes, phone sex, mutual masturbation, he talks you through it, praise, DIRTY TALK

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"I don't know Shoko.. I've never sent him anything like this before." You groaned into your pillow, your voice through the phone coming out muffled on her end. "But you want to right?" She pushed, making you raise your head up from the sheets and sigh, "I doooo." You huffed out begrudgingly. "Great! Problem solved, the pictures you sent me were hot, but not too revealing, so you can send him something like that for starters." She replied, making you blush at her compliment.

You had recently bought a new set when you went out with Shoko for a girl's day. You had practically ripped the bag in half when you got home so you could get it on your body faster. Once you had on the garment you were posing left and right, making sure to take some sensual pictures for yourself later. Your boyfriend; Satoru; had texted you in the midst of your shenanigans, telling you how he was on his lunch break, making an idea pop into your head.

You wanted to show your man how good you looked, but thinking about sending Satoru; or anyone for that matter; nudes? That made you a little nervous. You quickly dialed up Shoko, she always knew just what to say, she was your hypewoman after all. After a quick convo she had successsfully pushed you in the direction you truly wanted; that being sending your boyfriend risque pictures while he was at work.

"Let me know how it goes, see ya." Shoko's voice echoed through the phone speaker before the tone indicating the call had ended rang through the room. You took a deep breath and rotated yourself on your bed, flopping your back against the pillows, still dressed in the pretty set, while you scrolled through the pictures you had taken-- trying to pick your favorites.

You settled on three for starters, it was an easy pick, only taking you a couple minutes to assess the best ones for Satoru. The first one you were on your side, body laid across the floor sensually as your arm rested on your hip, giving the viewer's eyes full access to your body. In the second picture, you were on your knees, you had placed your phone on the ground and set it to a timer so you could lean forward, making your thighs crease at the top, as you used to squeeze your breasts together.

The last photo was your favorite. You were sat on the floor, your legs folded and spread, the sheerness of the panties leaving little to the imagination in the lighting, while your hand once again rested against your tit, pushing and groping it in your hand while the other took a picture in the mirror, your phone covering most of you face save for a sliver of a smile that peeked out the side of the phone.

Your heart was racing, you knew Satoru would like the pictures, and you're pretty sure he would find you attractive in a trash bag, but you digressed, opening the chat to your lover.

Satoru <3: finally on lunch, yaga brought donuts today!

The picture attached was of the white-haired man laying back in his chair as he held his shirt up over his stomach to reveal his somehow still toned, but bloated tummy, an empty donut box in the background. Something told you that the donuts might've been for the kids, but Yaga should've known that bringing sweets around Satoru without anything for him was a recipe for disaster.

You laughed to yourself as you shook your head before responding. The two of you bantered back and forth about the subject for a while before he asked you what you were up to right now, which gave you the perfect excuse to send him the pictures. After sending an ominous 'you wanna see?' text, you clicked on the three gold medal winning pictures and sent them his way. You bit your lip between your teeth as you watched the blue bar at the top of the screen slowly slide across it, indicating it was sending.

Seconds before the pictures had been successfully sent, Satoru had started typing back his own response, which made you nervous because it meant he was in the chat and would see the photos sooner. Which is what you wanted, yes, but it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking.

When the little ‘delivered’ popped up underneath your pictures, quickly followed by a ‘read’ you held your breath. The three dots that indicated his typing stopped, then started, then stopped again. Uncertainty filled your body, did he not like the pictures? Was he mad you sent them while he was working?

You were snapped out of your stupor when your phone started vibrating in your hand, Satoru’s contact picture and name lighting up the phone as it rang. You quickly answered his call, readying yourself to apologize for being out of line, but before you could do so you heard a loud drawn out groan resonate from the speaker.

“You’re such a tease.” He pouted on the other side of the line, “I only have 5 minutes left on my lunch break and you just made me so fucking hard.” He groaned, making you sigh in relief as you registered his words. “I’m sorry Satoru, I felt pretty and wanted you to see,” you faux apologized, biting your lip as you looked around your room.

“And you do look so fucking pretty baby, that’s the problem.” He sighed, spinning himself around in his chair while he stared down at his erect cock that was tenting up his pants. He looked over at the large clock on his wall, which he mainly used for decoration, before sighing into the receiver. "Thank you, Satoru," You blushed. "I was going to send them when you texted me that you were on your lunch but our conversation wasn't really.. in that mood" You explained.

You heard his signature laugh from the other end, "Baby, I don't care if I just told you the school got attacked by a hoard of curses, if you have sexy pictures to show me you better not keep them from me." You rolled your eyes, you both knew he was exaggerating and you would never do such a thing, but his words made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside still. "Sorry Satoru, is it too late to tell you that I took more than the ones I sent you?" You giggled, biting your lip when you heard him groan in response.

"Fuckk, please send me those pictures baby~" He wined, reaching over to his wireless headphones as he popped onto into his ear so he could still hear you while he oggled your pictures, he wouldn't want anyone to hear this conversation after all. You were one step ahead of them, the delivered notification once again popped up on your screen as you sent him three more pictures, all more risque than the last.

In one your back was arched in the mirror, showing off the pretty decoration on the back of the panties. Another, you completely abandoned the bra of the set, leaving the panties on as you covered your nipples with your fingers, and one of the same vein of you holding the phone over your body while you lay on the bed, your arm squishing your tits in the bra together while it cupped over your panty-less cunt.

"Oh you're trying to kill me, look at that fucking arch." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand as he took in the photos. "Baby you look so cute in that last one." He complimented, making you blush and giggle as you whispered out your thanks to him. He looked over to the clock once more, it was a couple minutes over the time he was supposed to be back and teaching the kids, but he figured if he was already late, what was a couple more minutes?

"Answer that," Satoru instructed, referring to the FaceTime request that popped up on your phone from him. You accepted it quickly, pulling your phone from your ear as you slid the green button over, smiling fondly when his flushed face popped into view. "You're so handsome, Satoru." You complimented, feeling your stomach start to tie itself in knots with how debauched he looked from just looking at the pictures you sent him, he was so clearly aroused.

"Oh shit, you still have it on?" He said, biting his lip as he set his phone down on the desk in front of him, giving you a full veiw of his body as he leaned back once more and startaed rubbing himself over his slacks. "Satoru what are you doing?" You asked with a laugh, surely it had been longer than five minutes now, he needed to get back to teaching. "Shh baby, they wont miss me for a couple more minutes ill make it quick." You imediately picked up on what he was insinuating.

"Look at how hard I am baby, I can't go out there looking like this." He wined, tipping his head to the side against his chair as he looked at you with a pout. "You're gonna take care of me too right?" You asked, giggling before you set up your own phone on your bed, using some pillows to stabilize it. The white-haired man scoffed before he started unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, "Can't believe you just asked me that." He said, semi-faux offense plastering itself on his face, "Was there ever a time I've left you unsatisfied?" He asked, slapping his cock against his free hand when it was finally unobstructed from his too-tight pants.

You sat back on your heels and started massaging your tits in your hands, making the warmth in your stomach grow as you pretended to think, looking around the room as you hummed. "Oh, so you already forgot how I made you cum in under a minute before work yesterday morning?" He said confidently, beginning to stroke himself as he watched you push your covered tits together. "I barely have to touch you and you're a squirming mess, dont play with me." He huffed out a laugh, bringing his other hand down to massage his balls in his hand, really giving you a show.

"But you're not here right now, Satoru." You retorted, sliding one of your hands down your body slowly, making your way down to your cunt. "Maybe not, but just my words are making you all wet, huh?" He asked knowingly, pulling his lip between his teeth as he watched you tease yourself. You nodded, making him coo at you as you finally made it to your cunt as you started to rub small circles over your clit.

"Get comfortable for me baby, keep the set on." He instructed. You lay back against the pillows and spread your legs. The crotch of the panties had a little patch over your entrance that he couldn't see through, but every other part of the fabric was almost completely sheer, except for the fact that your wetness was seeping through them little by little and making them see through the more you teased yourself.

"Play with your nipples while you rub yourself baby." He groaned, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet as he was in his office. "This is so dirty." You giggled, following his instructions. You rubbed small circles against your panty-clad clit while you pinched your nipple through the fabric of the unpadded bra.

The two of you have tried many things sexually throughout the entirety of your relationship together, but somehow, have never thought of getting off together over the phone. When Satoru was gone on missions the two of you would send dirty messages back and forth, saying how bad you missed each other, but nothing to this extent. This was opening a whole new world for the both of you, and it would be something you would definitely do again.

"Good fucking girl. Goddd, what I wouldn't give to bend you over right now and fuck you into the bed." He groaned, his strokes picking up pace while he watched your body jerk and twitch under your ministrations. "Yeah?" You encouraged, rubbing yourself faster and harder as your cunt clenched around nothing, aching for him to fill you up.

"Yes baby, want you to fuck yourself back on my cock too, wanna watch your little pussy swallow up my dick." He continued, rambling as the wet strokes on his dick emanated louder through the room. "Pull your panties aside and touch yourself, gotta see your pretty pussy." He grit through his teeth, as he tried to keep his eyes from rolling back in his had. You did as told, pulling the fabric aside you exposed your twitching clit and pulsing hole, a string of your arousal that connected to the panties failed to excape his eyes, making Satoru's cock twitch.

"Touch yourself, baby, pretend it's me touching you." He groaned, letting his jaw drop as he watched your fingers come in contact with the little bud, beginning to rub quick circles against it, just like he always does. "L-like this Toru?" You asked, needing him to praise you right now. "Just like that baby, doing so good for me, so fucking perfect." He groaned, shaking his head back and forth as he watched your smaller fingers work yourself through your orgasm.

"Shit, wanna feel your cunt squeezing me so bad, can see her twitching." He whined, making you blush in embarrassment at how exposed you were. Satoru's leg started bouncing against the floor at how fast he was working himself up. "P-please, fuck me Toru', fuck me-" You whimpered, getting lost in the sensation as you tipped your head back against the pillows and dropped your other hand down to the opening of your pussy, slowly sliding them inside your walls and starting up a blissful pace as you curled them up towards your sweet spot.

"Yes fuck your pussy for me, baby, yesyesyes." The man rambled, his back beginning to arch off the chair with how close he was. The squelching emitting from your cunt was going to send him over the edge, he so desperately wanted to pull your inadequate fingers out and lick them clean before he replaced them with his own. "Faster baby, cmon, get yourself there." He begged, slowing his strokes against his cock to let you get closer to your orgasm so the two of you could cum together. "I-I'm fuck S-satoru- Right there- right there-" You moaned, losing yourself in your fantasy as you fucked your fingers harder and deeper into yourself.

"Yeah? Right there? You like when I fuck you right there?" He slurred, clenching his teeth together as he picked up his pace once more, beginning to fuck his hips up into his hand. "Yes Toru- G-gonna- gonna cum-" You wined, your voice raising in pitch as you dropped your chin down to the screen in front of you, watching the show he was so kindly putting on for you as the sight pushed you over the edge.

"M-me too- Gonna fill you up cutie- fucking- take it-" Satoru groaned, hot ropes of cum spurting from his dick as his torso curled in slightly, his abs clenching and body jerking with the force of his orgasm. He watched intently as you snapped your legs shut around your hand, he saw the muscles in your forearm moving, praising you for working yourself through it as wave after wave of your high crashed over you. "Good girl, good fucking girl." He praised, slowing his strokes on his cock as he worked himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"S-shit" Your body relaxed against the sheets once more, your legs staying shut as you relished in the friction your closed thighs brought to your cunt as you came down from your orgasm. You heard your boyfriend giggle, dropping your knees down to the side you looked down at the screen and noticed that he was wiping his cock clean and tucking himself back into his pants. "Whew, 3 minutes, and I didn't even touch you." He praised himself, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him as you sat up to grab your phone in your hand and lay it against the side of the bed with you as you laid down.

"You could say the same for me too you know." you retorted, making him smirk. "Yeah, you could, made me make a huge fucking mess." He giggled, staring at you lovingly through the phone. "You look beautiful." He said, making hearts practically form in your eyes as you thanked him. "Clean yourself up before you fall asleep, I'll be home soon, okay?" He said, raising his eyebrows at you as he waited for your answer before he ended the call.

"Okay Satoru, hurry please." You added the two of you said your goodbyes, he blew you an animated-looking kiss before he hung up the call. You sighed, dropping your hand against the sheets as you smiled to yourself, you couldn't wait for him to get home.

After giving yourself a couple more seconds to lie there, you sat up, heading his words as you started to get yourself cleaned up. You paused in your ministrations when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up as Satoru's name popped up on the screen. You decided to check his message before you left for the bathroom, your jaw dropped and your body tensed when you opened his message.

There was a picture of Satoru's impressive-sized softening cock that rested on his hand, his length and hand alike covered in his cum with a message attached. When did he even have time to take that picture?

Satoru <3: Keep the set on till I get home please~

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just-dreaming-marvel · 13 days

Text

Bodyguard

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,565ish

Request: Yay, I'm so glad you're taking requests for Wolverine! Could you write about Logan being in love with reader but he's very emotionally constipated and also thinks she doesn't feel the same... but it's like very obvious to everyone they like each other but they're both oblivious and emotionally constipated so they don't act on their feelings. And everyone's just so done with them both, so they always put them together in missions to see if somethings sparks. And eventually she gets hurt in some mission, he panics and finally finally confesses in a panic like "you can't die on me, I love you, stay with me" sort of thing and they finally get together

Warnings: almost drowning, bullet wounds, overprotective behavior

Notes: This is my first time publishing anything that I've ever written for Logan. Hopefully it isn't complete trash. Sorry if it is trash. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

The water features in the garden always seemed to call to you. Whenever you could, you were out there next to them. Like right now, it was a nice day and you had taken the class outside for their English lesson. As you spoke, the water behind you would change to match the scenes you were describing. You were so enthralled with what you were teaching, that you didn’t even notice you were doing it. At least, that’s what Logan believed as he watched you from the balcony of the school.

Your passion for what you taught and your ability always amazed him. When he wasn’t busy himself, Logan often found himself watching you teach. Which is where Jean found him, a small smirk on her lips.

“You could just walk over there, you know?” Jean teased. “I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind."

“Don’t want to interrupt her lesson,” Logan muttered, still focusing on you.

“You are never an interruption to her.”

His brows furrowed as he glanced at Jean. “Do you need something?”

“The Professor wants us all in his office once Y/N’s class is over. Are you okay to tell her?”

Logan nodded, immediately heading down to the gardens. Jean couldn’t help but shake her head and smile. You and Logan were so oblivious to each other’s feelings, it was cute. Getting closer to your class, Logan slowed down to not interrupt. He slipped into an empty seat as you wrapped up.

“Read the last few chapters for the next class,” you told the students. “Class dismissed.”

The students gathered their things and walked back to the mansion. You gathered your items and stuffed them into your bag. Getting ready to leave, you noticed Logan sitting in one of the chairs.

“Logan,” you greeted with a smile, “what are you doing out here?”

“The Professor wants us all to meet in his office right now,” Logan responded, standing from the chair.

“Do you know what for?”

“Not a clue.”

“We better head there then.”

The two of you began walking in comfortable silence. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to be around each other without saying a word. Your brain often short-circuited around Logan, and you didn’t know why. You were an English teacher, words were your thing, except when it came to Logan. It was slightly embarrassing. Thankfully, only Jean and Ororo had occasionally teased you about it.

When the two of you reached the Professor’s office, Logan held the door open for you. You muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before you took one of the empty seats on the side of the room. Logan took the seat beside you. His arms folded over his chest as the Professor began discussing a possible mission. You did your best to listen while watching Logan from the corner of your eye. His eyes had closed and his head hung. Soft snores were coming from him. You felt bad for Logan. With your rooms right next to each other, you could hear the nightmares that plagued him. Logan barely got any sleep. You weren’t going to wake him now.

Your breath hitched as Logan’s head suddenly fell to your shoulder. You tried to keep as still as you could, allowing him to get some rest. Trying to listen to the Professor and others discuss the possible mission was now a lost cause. Logan was asleep on your shoulder.

It wasn’t long before you noticed that the conversation in the room had died down and everyone was staring at you and Logan.

“I think we’re done for the day,” Charles said with a smirk. “We’ll let you two be alone.”

“Wait—“ You squeaked as everyone quickly and quietly left the Professor’s office.

Logan barely moved, remaining asleep. His head was growing heavier on your shoulder, reminding you that his skeleton was infused with adamantium. You couldn’t wake him though, Logan needed the rest. As carefully as you could, you reached down, grabbed a book from your bag, and began reading.

~~~

Logan groaned, brows furrowing. His eyes were closed but he could tell that his head was resting on something—or someone. He didn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was being in the Professor’s office. Suddenly, Logan’s eyes snapped open and his head snapped up. He looked over and saw you sheepishly smiling back at him.

“Hey,” you quietly said.

He glanced around. It was now evening and the two of you were still in the Professor’s office. Logan’s mind quickly pieced together that he had fallen asleep on you hours ago and you had let him.

“I’ve got to go,” Logan’s voice was gruff as he stood up and rushed out of the room.

You couldn’t help but be a little hurt that he didn’t stay longer and talk. You honestly wished he had.

~~~

Logan avoided you for the next week. You couldn’t understand how he was doing it. You could hear him, walking and talking, but you were never able to see him. It stung to know that he was avoiding you and you couldn’t figure out why.

One night, you couldn’t sleep. Your thoughts were racing with the thoughts of Logan. You walked out to the gardens and over to the large pond on the property. You needed to get some frustration out in some way. With your water manipulation mutation, you were not quite a master yet. Manipulating large bodies of water, including the pond you were standing in front of, took a lot out of you. You didn’t care though, you just needed to let some emotions go.

Lifting your hands, you summoned the water, causing it all to shoot up into the air. You let out a scream as you did, already trembling due to the energy needed. You twisted your hands, causing the water to twist together in a large spiral. You continued to spin it together as you stepped into the muddy pond. The water was spinning faster and faster as it grew higher, your emotions taking control of it all.

As you continued closer to the spiral, you failed to look at your feet. Suddenly, you tripped over a rock. You fell, hitting your head on a rock and knowing yourself out. The water suddenly fell back into the pond, making a loud splash as you were buried.

~~~

Logan couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t been able to since he had fallen asleep on your shoulder. He had also been avoiding you. Logan felt awkward having used you as a pillow. When he woke up, he didn’t know what to say or do, he just felt the need to get out of there. He was too embarrassed to look you in the eye or to confront the growing feelings that continued to stir inside of him.

So instead of sleeping, Logan found himself wandering through the gardens. Thinking of you. He was surprisingly deep in thought when a large splash came from the direction of the pond. Logan rushed over to see the water still splashing like it was trying to settle back into the pond. As he came closer, Logan noticed that someone was floating in the water. It was you.

Before he could even think, Logan dove into the water and pulled your face to the surface.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he tried to shake you the best he could while keeping you both afloat.

Logan’s heart dropped when he noticed the large gash on your head that was oozing with blood. Keeping you secure to him with one arm, Logan swam over to the edge of the pond and pulled you onto the grass.

“Logan!” Jean shouted, rushing over with Scott and Ororo. Jean had woken up with a deep sense of dread which then caused her to wake Scott and go looking for the others. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Logan admitted. “I was on a walk and then heard a splash and found her in the pond.”

“Scott, start CPR.”

Scott quickly did as he was instructed. Ororo set a hand on Logan’s back as he stared at your face. Even as you finally coughed up water, Logan didn’t feel any relief.

“We need to get her to the lab,” Jean stated.

Before anything else could be said, Logan had you in his arms and was carrying you to the lab. The others followed with the Professor meeting them in the lab. Logan set you down on the exam table but didn’t leave your side.

“I need space to work, Logan,” Jean said as she readied equipment.

“I’m not leaving her said,” he responded.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Just give me enough space to work.”

Jean worked quickly to get you on oxygen and hooked up with tubes and wires. The Professor sat by your head and placed his hands on it. Closing his eyes, he searched your brain for what had happened.

“She exhausted herself,” the Professor stated, eyes still closed as he worked through your mind. “She was trying to get some frustration out and used the water in the pond to do so. She ended up tripping and hitting her head on a rock.”

“She shouldn’t have been out there alone,” grumbled Logan.

“No, she shouldn’t have.” The Professor opened his eyes and pulled his hands away. “Y/N should be fine.”

“Yes,” Jean agreed. “She’ll just need to be monitored for a day or two.”

“We can take shifts,” Ororo suggested.

“I’ll go first,” Logan said, with no room for argument. He pulled a chair over and planted himself next to you.

The others heading out to try and get some rest.

“Why was she out there though?” Scott questioned. “She knows better than to try to do something like that on her own.”

“That is something Y/N can answer for herself,” the Professor replied. “Let’s all hope that something happens between Logan and Y/N before another incident does.”

~~~

Groaning, you began to come to. The bright lights seeping through your eyelids and the smell led you to realize that you were in the lab. You tried to move your arm to cover your eyes but soon realized that you had an IV in it.

“Hold still,” a gruff voice ordered.

“The lights,” you rasped.

Heavy footsteps were quick to hit the light switch before coming back to your side. You finally blinked a few times before completely opening your eyes. Logan was hovering over you, his face showing no real signs of concern besides his eyes.

“What were you thinking?” Logan asked.

You let out a little whine as you moved to sit up. Logan’s hand was on your shoulder in a second, pushing you back down.

“Logan, I’m fine,” you told him. “My head simply hurts.”

“You could have drowned,” Logan continued. “You know that you're not strong enough to handle something like that. Why were you out there alone?”

“I just needed to let some frustration out… and I couldn’t sleep.” Logan opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off. “I’m tired now though. Can I rest more?”

“Fine,” Logan sighed, sitting back down.

“You can g—“

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

~~~

Even once you were cleared by Jean, Logan wouldn’t leave your side. He was silently brooding a few steps behind you whenever he wasn’t teaching a class himself. If you were in your room, Logan was in his own, listening in to make sure everything was okay. It should have been suffocating, but it wasn’t.

You began to work harder to gain more endurance with your mutation. Logan was always there to help you. During training, Logan would talk to you the most, but it was only in criticism and hints on how to help you. Ororo and Jean often were there to help you and guide you. When they could, they would tease you about your newfound bodyguard and you would brush them off.

After about two and a half weeks, you were beginning to worry about Logan. Only because he was still following you around and barely speaking to you.

“It seems you’ve lost your bodyguard for a moment,” Ororo stated as she came to sit beside you in the kitchen.

You looked over your shoulder, noticing that she was right. “Seems I have. But probably not for long.”

“Have the two of you talked at all?”

“Only during training and only about training.”

“Have you tried to talk to him?” You simply shrugged. “The two of you need to figure whatever you have out. It’s…well, frankly, it’s getting weird. Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

You shook your head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Logan and he definitely doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Oh, sweetie, you are oblivious. You should at least tell him to back off.”

“He’ll back off eventually.”

Ororo sighed. “You need to deal with this.”

“There’s nothing that needs dealing with.”

“Y/N—“

You suddenly stood up. “I got to go.”

You rushed out of the room as Logan went to enter it. You brushed passed him, ignoring his concerned look as you headed for your room. Logan’s hands clenched as he forced himself to not reach out to you and pull you into him. Once you were a good enough space away, he followed after you. Jean was quick to step in his way as you slipped into your bedroom.

Jean was clearly not amused with Logan’s actions. “You need to just tell her already,” she said. “This whole—stalking thing, needs to end.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Logan argued.

“Then what are you doing?”

“I’m watching out for her. Making sure she doesn’t try to overwork herself again.”

Jean sighed. “You care about Y/N, that much is clear. Well, to everyone but her. You need to be honest with her about your feelings. You can’t just follow her around without speaking forever.”

“Watch me.”

~~~

The silent following continued for another week, with the tension between you and Logan growing. One night, you couldn’t sleep again and found yourself heading back to the pond. You were so caught up in your own thoughts, that you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, you rammed into something sturdy and before you could figure out what it was, hands grasped onto your arms.

“Where do you think you're going?” There was a hint of anger in Logan’s tone.

“Uh, to the pond,” you replied quietly. Looking up at Logan, you could tell that this wouldn’t be a winning conversation.

“Not a chance.”

“Logan, I’m fine. Seriously, I—“

“You’re not going to the pond.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I’m just trying to clear my head.”

“Last time you went to the pond, I had to drag your floating body.”

You sighed. “I made a mistake, Logan. I’m not going to use my powers right now, I only want to be near the water.” You tried to go around Logan, only for him to move with you. “This isn’t funny.”

“Good thing I’m not joking.”

You shook your head, growing angry. “You are not in charge of me, Logan. Let me through.”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. You’re going back inside.”

“No, I am not!” The anger was controlling your powers, the water features nearby shooting water in various directions. “I am so sick of your silent following and then stepping in like I need to listen to you.”

“It would do you well to listen to me, sweetheart.”

“Doubt it.” Logan’s jaw clenched and you could tell that you’d hit a cord. “Leave me alone, Logan. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

You turned on your heel and headed back inside, leaving Logan standing in the gardens.

~~~

Logan was back to avoiding you and you absolutely hated it. You felt some guilt about it, especially the more you missed his presence. It was a few days before you saw him and it was only because the Professor had called you all into his office for a mission briefing. Once again, the only open seat was beside you and Logan opted to stand by the door.

The Professor explained the mission: to save some kidnapped mutant kids from an old warehouse. Dangerous humans were guarding the warehouse and experimenting on the children. The X-men were needed to rescue them.

“Scott will stay with the jet,” the Professor explained, “while Jean and Storm will pair off and Logan and Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Logan’s question almost sounded like a scoff. “She’s still harnessing her powers.”

You wanted to disappear right then and there. Especially when Jean glanced at you like she knew Logan was breaking your heart.

“You know for yourself, Logan, that Y/N has worked hard to grow her powers,” Charles defended. “She is ready.”

You couldn’t help but be hurt by the look Logan gave you before he left the room. You knew that things weren’t easy between the two of you, but you had hoped he would have been better about it. It was a stupid hope.

~~~

Logan wouldn’t look at you the entire jet ride to the warehouse. And when the two of you headed out, he led the way without a glance back to see if you were there. Once the two of you were in the warehouse, Logan focused on fighting the humans off while you freed the children.

You led the children out of the warehouse, where more armed men were waiting. As quickly as you could, you threw up a wall of water, trying to slow the humans down as the children ran for the jet.

“Logan!” You shouted as you used all of your energy to strengthen the wall. “Hurry!”

You could hear Logan still fighting in the warehouse and you could only open he was almost done. You turned your head to check and while you did so, two bullets broke through your barrier and hit you in the abdomen. You inhaled sharply as you fell to the ground, water splashing all around you as your barrier fell as well.

“Y/N!” Logan screamed as he watched you fall.

He roared as he quickly attacked the remaining guards, killing them with swift hits of his claws. Once he was done, his claws retracted and he rushed to your side.

“Shit,” he muttered.

You let out a painful chuckle. “Guess I… did need… that… bodyguard…” You whined as Logan pressed his hands against your wounds.

“You’re not dying on me, sweetheart.”

“I’ll… try…” Every inch of you felt like it was burning. Your eyes were growing heavier with each passing second and everything was becoming fuzzy.

“Stay with me, Y/N… I can’t lose you. I love you… Stay with me.”

“You… love… me…”

“Just stay with me, sweetheart.” You couldn’t stop yourself from slipping into unconsciousness. “No, no, no, no, no!”

“Y/N! Logan!” Ororo yelled as she searched for the two of you. As soon as she laid eyes on the two of you, her heart dropped. “Logan, get her to the jet. Now!”

~~~

Deja vu. That’s what it felt like when the scent of the lab hit your nose and the blinding lights could be seen through your eyelids. You let out a groan, wanting to move, but your body felt weighed down.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice was strong though still fuzzy in your ears.

“L—L—Logan?” You rasped, slowly opening your eyes.

There Logan was, hovering over you looking like hell. It was clear he hadn’t slept in far too long and the more you looked at him, the sooner you realized he was still in his suit from the mission. You licked your dry lips and swallowed as you continued to stare at him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like death.”

His lips were quickly in a firm line. “Not funny. You… you did die… You died in my arms on the jet… you’ve been asleep for over a week now.”

“How did I…”

“How did you survive? Jean and Hank worked miracles.”

“I’ll have to thank them.”

Logan’s gaze suddenly changed into something you couldn’t quite name. “I was so scared,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

You grabbed his hand the best you could. “I’m sorry… I wish you didn’t have to see any of that… but I am glad you were there.”

“I should have been by your side the entire time. I could have taken the bullets.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away… you had every right to be worried about me after I almost drowned… I’ve missed my bodyguard.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart. I know that I was a bit overwhelming.”

“A bit?”

“Okay, a lot.”

“Got that right.” The two of you fell into silence. Your thumb rubbed against the back of Logan’s hand as you thought about something. “Logan?”

“Mmm?”

“Did you… did you really say that you love me?”

Logan inhaled sharply as his eyes searched yours for what answer to say. “Yes… I did.”

“And do you mean it?”

He sighed. “I do.”

You smiled. “Good because I love you too.”

A large smile, uncommon to Logan, grew over his face. “You do?”

“Of course I do.” He leaned down at softly kissed your lips. “I know that I was frustrated before, but please don’t leave my side again.”

“Never again, sweetheart.”

#marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x mutant reader #logan howlett x mutant!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x female!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n

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see-arcane · 1 month

Text

Jonathan is escaping just as the beginnings of brain fever and far worse things are roiling in him. Making him more ill and haggard as he traverses the Carpathians in search of a train. Running, burning, withering. Dying.

The closer he gets to death, the more he can feel Dracula's poison trying to overtake him. It's a trap waiting to spring. He knows it. Dracula knows it. Just as the Count knows the Brides let him slip away--

Ah, well, their loss. It seems you are to be mine alone after all, my friend.

--and dreams little visions his way when Jonathan dares to sleep.

Flashes of dark water and mist. Men screaming like sheep before the butcher. Slaughtered with less mercy than any farmer ever showed his livestock before being discarded like trash.

What loss are they, my friend? I have tasted the finer things. A sweet English vintage; I shall savor more of the same in time. But these? Bah! I have seen a thousand of their paltry kind come and go. I would no sooner cherish their meal than you would swoon over a cut of shoe leather. What difference is it if I play with this coarse fare? You shall learn the same habits in time.

"No. No, no, I won't, I can't. I have to go home. I have to get to her. My life is there. My life is her."

What home is that, my friend? Who is she?

He does not answer. He cannot answer. His head is all fire, burning holes through mind and memory. No, God, he must know! He must remember! He has come all this way, he must know where he's going and who is there! His nightmares fill with as much saccharine sympathy as cutting laughter. The most sincere comment he receives in the mire of it is a single reassurance:

You will recall it all, my friend. Sickness makes no mark upon us. You will know. You will be well. Some night, in this year or the next, perhaps we can go and meet her together. In the meantime, cease your struggling. I can feel your fatigue, poor boy. Put down your head. Stop running. Let it take you. Let it help you. Rest.

"No."

Rest.

"No!"

Rest.

"No, no, no--,"

He stuffs himself with berries and a hare and handfuls from a river. A ferryman takes pity--he thinks? a river, he remembers a River, the Ferryman telling him where to go, how soon the sun will rise, he doesn't know, his head, his chest, everything burning, dying--and a blur passes between himself and the train station. He was loud there. Did he scream? Sob? Bare his teeth? They shoo him away with a ticket.

(Sharp. Why do his teeth feel so sharp? Why is he so thirsty when the fluttering shapes of the nuns keep forcing water down his throat?)

(Quiet now. He cannot get through the walls here. Ha. Could not even open his journal if he tried! The crucifix is wrapped around it! Ha!)

(Stings to hold. Why? God, God, please, not now, don't don't don't, please do not do this, the nuns, they think him mad! They are of faith, but they do not believe! They do not know! They won't understand what he is when they put him in the cemetery they won't know what they invited in unawares they won't know until he is up and out of the dirt and oh O God the Cross and the Son will not save them not entirely not when he feasted on an entire mountain range of the faithful whose prayer saved no one and soon he will not need their necks only whatever meat his teeth can reach and no no no no no no no no no no no NO NO NO NO--)

Something is different.

A white light twinkling in the red inferno. He knows it. It has brushed him more than once. She found him in the graveyard, weeping over the stones of his parents. How did she know then that he was there? He'd never told her.

Her.

Her who?

(Love. Darling. Soul. I know this. I know...)

Even if he cannot pierce the veil of a holy place, her presence can. It fires through his eyes--he is caught mid-kiss, the girl's head is hanging down, familiar sunny locks, who..?--and into Jonathan Harker's.

Jonathan Harker. Yes. Yes, that sounds right. And she is...

Running to him, to the nodding girl, a wisp under the moonlight coming to throw herself into danger for the sake of another, as ever and ever amen, she is--

"Mina."

"Pardon?" asks the attendant refilling his pitcher. She watches him carefully. "Did you say something young herr?"

"Mina. Mina Murray." His bloodshot eyes roll to the window. It faces the west. It faces her. Within him, something blessedly cool turns over, quelling an irate blaze. "I should like to write to her."

"I can speak with Sister Agatha about this. Who is Mina Murray, if I may ask?"

"My fiancee. And my name is Jonathan Harker. We live in Exeter." He offers a weak smile. One without sharp teeth. "My apologies for taking so long to remember it."

#having feelings about this again #Mina saved his life and his humanity without ever knowing it #jonathan harker #mina murray #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily #my writing

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tickettride · 2 months

Text

A good dad || J.D.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x wife!reader

in which your daughters want to keep the stray puppy they've found outside, and you have to convince Johnny that it's a good idea. it is, right?

word count: 2,2k

warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, allusions to sex, Johnny's such a grumpy dad, sixties relationship clichés?

A/N: : while I’ve convinced myself numerous times that writing one-shots isn't for me, Benny and Johnny have stuck in my mind and never left. why shouldn’t I fantasize about them and share these moments with you?

English isn’t my first language, but I’m having fun and that’s the most important <3

(my gif)

“Oh, your dad’s gonna be pissed,” you sighed, eyeing the girls as they watched you back with cute pouts.

Maybe cute, but not enough to make you fold. That puppy right there, at your feet, wouldn’t be part of the family for long. You remembered broaching the subject once, trying to convince Johnny that having a dog could only be good for the girls. Running low on arguments, his response to you was just a look with a serious ‘What the fuck would we do with that?’. You had never talked about the idea again.

“We told you he was near the trash cans,” Lynn, your eldest, nearly burst into tears at the thought of letting go of the dog. “All by himself.”

The dog nudged your bare legs, tail wagging. You took a step back, knowing it would be harder to leave him at the vet if you only stroked him once. You were too damn kind for these kinds of things, and the girls knew it damn well.

The brown fur went to nuzzle against Joan next, who scratched him with more intensity than necessary. Her smile was huge, and her little giggle of happiness nearly melted you on the spot.

You shut your eyes for a second. Focus.

“Look at his ears!” Joan squealed, comparing her small hand to his head.

“Careful, baby,” you warned her, willing yourself to have some sort of authority back. “Don’t scare him off.”

“I want to keep him!”

“And who would be feeding him when you’re at school?”

Your question raised a moment of silence you had expected. It made you sigh loudly again, leaning your back against the kitchen table.

“That's what I thought. You exhaust me, you two,” you said in a breath, watching the girls hustling back to the living room on a mission to find the little beast a name.

You were fucked. All of you.

Rolling your shoulders back, you spun around and ignored the noises above your head. You were fairly certain a family of mice had taken up residence in the walls, but it didn’t matter. You had greater issues as of now, starting with the dog jumping around the girls.

While their laughter filled the house, you finished pouring boiling water into your cup and dunked a teabag inside, watching the clear water turn a bloody red. What could you even tell Johnny? Maybe you could lie and tell him the girls’ new school project was to take care of a puppy for a few days. Make them more responsible. After all, your neighbor's son had taken care of a guinea pig once.

No, you scoffed at yourself. Your husband was more clever than that. He would see right through you and ask for the truth that you would deliver because you were like that. You hated lying to him, just as much as you hated him lying to you.

Ten minutes later, your eyes were focused on the tea between your hands. You almost jumped out of the armchair when you heard the jingle of keys being thrown into the drawer in the hallway.

The front door closed with a thud and the girls looked up at you, waiting for any instruction.

And here you were, sacrificing yourself again for those two little monsters. Setting your cup down on the coffee table, you tried to appear as serious as possible and pointed a finger at them.

“Don’t move, okay? Don’t move and keep the dog with you both.”

“‘Kay Mommy,” Lynn grinned up at you, stroking the dog’s head resting on her lap.

You gave them a brief nod and cursed at yourself when you stepped across the dolls lying on the carpet, those poor things looking as crazy as you. So you quickly smoothed down your hair and waltzed to the kitchen, where Johnny was removing his leather jacket and boots. Seemed like he had finally heard after all those times you had yelled at him to stop getting the floor dirty with soil and grease.

“Darlin’?”

Johnny snapped his neck to face you with that charismatic smile he was always giving you, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. He was always making your heart flip too.

You crossed the room in no time, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sometimes you just greeted each other with a quick peck, and that was okay too. But you had missed him more than usual today, huddling up to shed warmth.

“Hi,” you whispered, hoping you looked as innocent as you sounded.

His forehead knocked against yours, and you could feel the love rolling off him in waves when he pressed a quick kiss on your mouth. And another. His face went to the crook of your neck, pressing into the sensitive skin as he pulled you as close to his body as possible. So he had missed you too, maybe more.

“We just had dinner,” you muttered, breathing in the scent of smoke clinging to his skin. “Didn’t know when you’d be back.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny’s lips grazed your cheek. “I’m not hungry tonight.”

“You’ll change your mind when you get a taste,” you grinned, pecking his lips and forgetting for a second about the dog taking shelter in your living room. “C’mere.”

Johnny’s steps were heavy behind you, trailing to the kitchen counter. His body nearly collided with your back when you faced him again, lifting a wooden spoonful of tomato sauce to his mouth and thumbing his bottom lip gently.

“How’s that?” you asked, biting down on your lip.

“You know it’s fuckin’ delicious, as usual,” Johnny hummed, giving a smile that made you smile too. "Love it."

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his hand slithered back down your pants, steering around your backside and fondling you.

A small chuckle escaped your lips, happy to be still feeding your man after six years of marriage. It was almost unimaginable how after all these years of being with him, you still wanted nothing more than to be close like a lovesick teenager.

“Where are the girls?” Johnny asked before he could do anything to you, licking his lips as he stole a glance toward the living room.

That’s when the dog decided to bark. A low, high-pitched bark that made you want to kick him out yourself.

“Shit.”

Johnny stared back at you, no trace of that amused grin anymore. “What’s that?”

But he was already making a beeline for the other room, and you beat him to it to block his way.

“Listen to me first,” you ordered, pointing that finger again at his face and swallowing when he looked down at you that way, the same look he gave in bed sometimes. “Alright? Listen. Joan found a puppy in the garden earlier, and I’ve told the girls we can't keep it.”

“And?”

“And they–well, they were waitin’ for you to come home,” you chickened out, making him huff. “C'mon, what was I supposed to do, hmm?”

Johnny scowled, staring impassively at you and skirting past your figure to have a look at the intruder.

Mumbling another inaudible curse, you dared to look at the scene too. The dog was now curled on Joan’s lap, sleeping softly. They all looked so damn cute. Meant to be, you could say, if your husband didn’t look so unpleased.

“You’re kiddin’ me,” Johnny’s eyes widened at the sight and darted back to yours.

“We asked everyone around if they knew him and they said no,” Lynn explained enthusiastically. “That means we can keep him. He must have lost his parents.”

“They did ask,” you muttered, though only Johnny heard you.

“He's gonna be sad if we abandon him,” Joan was now the one gazing at you both dramatically, giving those sad eyes that usually made her father change his mind.

Johnny stared at the moonlight slanting through the blinds. Ten seconds felt like forever. And eventually, he retreated to the kitchen.

“Take him back where you found him.”

The girls' protests were in vain. Both were already calling for you, sniffling tearfully while the dog snored like a little king on his throne. They begged you to do something, and you knew you had to try. You hated fighting with Johnny, but you hated your daughters’ heartbreak even more.

“Honey,” you started smoothly when you found him by the front door, wide shoulders and thick arms, a cigarette dangling between his lips.

At least he had opened the door to let the smoke out.

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk about this.”

“We don’t,” Johnny sounded casual, as though the matter was already settled.

Angry, it was now your turn to scowl. You were already getting upset at his close-mindedness. Your dad had been like that–talking to your mom like she couldn’t have an opinion. Johnny knew you despised that attitude, and you certainly wouldn’t be the one to let a man get in your way. Even less when it came to the kids.

You stepped closer to him, speaking lowly so the girls wouldn’t eavesdrop. “So you’re the only grown-up making a decision here? Is that it? You’re being selfish and… and clearly blind. You know how happy it makes them.”

Johnny’s eyes met yours, a breath of smoke separating you for a second.

“You want the dog too?” his tone was dry. “Keep it then.”

“Hey, you’re acting like a jackass right now,” you snapped, so close to his face you could feel his breathing over your nose. “It’s a decision we both have to make. I’ve never seen the girls looking so excited by the same thing, Johnny. Taking care of that dog would give them a memorable childhood. Like mine.”

He let out a dry laugh, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Playing with my feelings now, aren’t you?”

“I don’t care,” you almost whined, so tired that the discussion wasn’t going anywhere yet. “Do you fear dogs? Is that why you don’t want it?”

“What?” Johnny scoffed. “No. The tiny shit isn’t goin’ to scare me anytime soon.”

“Tiny shit,” Joan sing-sung lowly, making her way toward you both.

Beside her, Lynn was covering her mouth to suppress her giggles. The sisters exhanged a glance, more hopeful than you really were.

“Bad word, Joan,” you warned, glancing down at the dog she was struggling to cradle in her arms.

Deciding any of this wasn’t worth a fight, you let out a sigh and wordlessly turned your back on Johnny, kneeling before your daughters.

“You’ll have to leave him at the doorstep, baby,” you said quietly, brushing a strand of her hair out of her forehead. “We’ll find him a new family tomorrow, okay?”

“Why?” Lynn asked, a sob catching in her throat.

Joan was already tearing up, holding on to the oblivious dog like it would kill her to let go. You had no doubts she would be sad for an entire week, if not more. She was too kind, too.

“We’ll talk about that in the morning,” you nodded at them, waiting for a nod back. When they did, it was truly the saddest thing you had ever seen. It nearly made you cry, too.

That night, it was Johnny’s turn to tuck them in. You heard his voice from across the hallway, telling his girls he loved them. Small voices said I love you back.

You walked from the bathroom to the bed silently, Johnny hot on your heels.

“How long are you gonna be mad for?” his raspy voice broke through your inner thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

You slipped beneath the white comforter, a foot bumping into his.

“I don’t know,” you shuffled, turning your back to him and burying your head in the pillow. “How long are you gonna be an ass for?”

You had been expecting a response, but nothing came. Just a slight touch over your stomach to test the waters, slipping under your top when you didn’t tell him to stop.

“He’s downstairs,” Johnny muttered, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“What?”

“The dog,” Johnny moved your hair so he could kiss your neck lazily. “He’s downstairs.”

Out of instinct, you tilted your head, allowing him to devour the side of your throat. It was hard to stay mad at him. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on his warm fingers.

“How long for?”

“A week to start with,” Johnny replied, though you knew the dog was part of the family now. A week would turn into two, and then he would just forget about it. “Longer if he’s not a pain in the ass.”

You tried hard not to smile out of victory, reminding yourself how hard he had been to deal with. And how he was a pain in the ass.

Johnny's hand slipped over your hip when you rolled over to face him, a hand beneath your pillow.

He swallowed, not quite smiling but not frowning either. You knew he was feeling guilty, always wondering if he was doing the right thing. If he was a good man. A good dad. Yet, you couldn't think of any man who would sacrifice himself like he did. Johnny never hesitated to work overtime and make sure you had all you needed, just like he had promised you all those years ago.

Your lips neared his, a bit bashful, just wanting him to know he could be forgiven easily. It was he who made the final leap by pressing his mouth to yours. His large hand filled the dip of the small of your back, remnants of the cigarette he'd smoked on his lips. A shiver trembled down your spine as your hand stroked his cheek gently.

"Don't sideline me," you pulled away, keeping him close to you. "Please. I know what's good and what's wrong for them."

"I know, darlin'," Johnny muttered back. "I wasn't implyin' that you didn't."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on him. “I’m sorry I got upset. I've had a long day."

Johnny’s lips turned into a smile. “And I’m sorry your man’s a jackass.”

You chuckled, eyes boring into his. “Yeah. Yeah, he is. But he’s a good dad.”

He nodded at your words, kissing your temple and holding you as though he would burn down the city for you. Another kiss was pressed on your forehead and all you had to do was drift asleep peacefully, hoping that dog wouldn't betray you.

#johnny davis #the bikeriders fanfiction #benny cross #johnny davis x reader #the bikeriders #tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction

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thesilmarillionblog · 3 months

Text

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part:𝟷𝟸

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4624

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

It was quite the struggle to train with Ben for a week, especially when he took it extremely seriously and pushed you to the very limit. It was not that he hurt you; it was that in the lab you either lost your will to fight or you just got really weak.

There were moments when you stated to Ben that things might get serious about your power, but he chose to ignore you and aggravated the training, which left you worn out. But you were relieved that he could, in his own irritating way, encourage you that your strength was still there.

Ben answered, “No,” right away when you wanted to stop the exercise.

Right now, the entire home was a mess, and the hole you had made in the wall remained.

“I'm tired here, Ben,” you complained as you fell to the ground, gasping for air. You had been there exercising together since the morning, and it was nearly the sun going down. Except when you needed to eat or pee, he rarely gave you a moment's peace of mind. “I mean it. I'm done.”

You opened your hands wide on the ground, and he looked at your body while saying, “You're a supe; you can't just feel exhausted that easily.”

You blushed as you noticed him staring at your soaked entire body and replied, “Give me some break.” There's a good chance that you were both thinking the same thing. “How on earth can you find that much energy? Even for a supe, it's too much.”

Ben stared at you and then took off the shirt he had taken off hours earlier, wiping the sweat from his muscular chest. You grimaced, knowing you probably smelled like trash.

“It's because I am the strongest; I am not just any average Supe.” With the most arrogant way possible, he threw his t-shirt back to the ground and said, “Simply better and more powerful than anyone. But don't worry; we'll return you to the way things were, sweetie. You have my word.”

He gave you a sneaky smirk when he saw you staring at his broad, sweat-damp chest. Ben was waiting for you, literally, from above, all the time you tried to get some rest. His eyes narrowed, and you suspected his head was full of filthy stuff.

You just muttered, “I hope so,” and avoided giving him a glance as you closed your eyes.

He sighed and went down on the floor next to you, crossing his big arms over his head.

“Don't think about it that much. You're going to do even better than you are now. Maybe we should just do those trainings more frequently. What do you say?”

“It’s fine. I don’t have another choice anyway,” you replied, cutting it short while keeping your eyes closed. Even if you felt his intense stare on your face, you didn’t react. “What did the doctor tell you, by the way? The one who supervised Compound V's improvement for decades?”

You remembered that there was a lot of discussion following the news that Ben had killed him at his home. You kind of hoped you could have dealt with that cruel piece of shit on your own, though. He was just a monster with a white robe. He had always made an aggressive attempt to cause damage to you and showed no sympathy or compassion for anyone. You got scared and insecure when you opened your eyes, recalling the physical harm he had inflicted.

“Fucking piece of shit!” Ben angrily exclaimed, his fists clenched over his head. “I should have killed him properly.”

“What did he say, so you blew up?”

“Isn't it obvious? That pussy told me how little supes are in the big picture of science, the future of the supremes, humanity, and some other bullshit. It's certain that Vough paid that cocksucker generously during all those years. He lived in luxury, torturing us, and he didn’t even regret it.”

“Did he tell you what kind of research he did on my body?” You asked as you moved your body to face him.

Ben fell silent for a minute, enraged by what he remembered the doctor had said about you. Nevertheless, his eyes softened as he saw your expression and saw that you were excited to hear what he was about to say and that you were feeling at ease and comfortable next to him. That was all he needed. Ben recognized that if he made a determined attempt to be by your side and touch you in the way he desired, you would push him even further away and that you weren't

ready for physical contact at this time. He therefore forced himself to keep his distance from you and let you do whatever you wanted.

He just turned to face you and stated, “I didn't give him enough time to talk,” straightening his posture and sitting straight up on the floor. “He's just an animal, and he sees supes as rats for research in order to make profit. That's all.”

“When we agreed to live this life as supers, Ben, we already knew that.” You said bitterly, “People in charge always wanted to play with us like we were toys. They used us as they pleased and needed us for their own good. I wanted to leave the company for a number of reasons, one of which was that I was unaware of how serious that whole picture was. What I need to learn is what they succeeded in doing during the decades we were unconscious and at their mercy.”

Ben sighed and got up to get some weed from the nearest table, just after helping you off the floor.

“I was told by that son of a bitch that he examined you to make the future supers flawless. Though I'm not really sure what he meant, it seems to me that Queen Maeve—the woman from Seven—is their new you.”

“Do you think they might have found a way to weaken me? Don't say 'no' right away,” you said in a hurry when he opened his lips to object. “It just doesn't feel right about what's going on and everything.”

Your concerns, which were constantly lurking beneath the surface, took over when you realized that Ben had remained silent. Something was off with you, you two sensed that. Although after your first training day you felt a little stronger, your weakness remained under your skin.

You pulled open a window to let some fresh air in and muttered, “If you hadn't just killed the doctor, we could have learned about it.”

Ben offered you one of the glasses and sighed as if he regretted what he had done, filling the other one with wine. “I didn't intentionally kill him. It simply happened beyond my control. But I would still murder him anyway.”

You raised an eyebrow and sat down, realizing that your tiredness was taking over. “You need to find a way to control it since your nerves are always on edge,” you said. “And also, I need to find someone who can understand all of this.”

Ben sat beside you, stretching his muscles and leaning back into the coach while he listened to you attentively. As you spoke, you noticed that your gaze lingered a little too long on his sweating body, almost making you flush.

He studied your expression to see how you would react to his suggestion. He said, “I guess the best option is to kidnap or torture a doctor who is in charge or fuckever who's doing supe studies for Vought right now. We can use Mindstorm to look at your memories and thoughts to see whether they have hurt you in any way.”

His suggestion caused your eyes to widen with excitement, and you exclaimed, “That's actually a smart idea. But how are we supposed to find him?”

“Remember the new technology, sweetheart. Anything is possible with these phones, Bluetooth, and GPS technology. Remember how I found you very easily?”

You gave a nod to him, knowing that what he stated was right and that you would be able to reach Mindstorm with ease thanks to modern technology.

After you had your shower, you saw Ben watching the TV with a dead serious face, and you sat beside him.

As you used the towel in your hand to dry your damp hair, you inquired, “Is there any news about us? Almost a week has passed.”

“Not much,” he replied as he continued to listen to Homelander talk about the two of you.

‘They pose no threat to the United States,’ Homelander confidently stated, grinning, as he extended his arms and turned to face the screen. 'As Seven, we've been trying to find them for a week, but it looks like they are hiding pretty well,' he continued. I, Homelander, the Seven's leader, swear to you that they shall answer for their actions. It has been proven that Soldier Boy rescued Y/N, and it's very likely that the two of them murdered the hapless doctors as well as every lab employee in cold blood and without hesitation.'

You and Ben exchanged a look as Homelander continued his speech. ‘Their families and children are in agony even though our government gives them the best care they can. These two criminals are responsible for the deaths of the orphans whose parents they killed. It breaks our hearts to see them weeping and grieving the loss of their families. There are even toddlers among them. Soldier Boy and Y/N will be held liable and made to pay for the harm they caused to the United States and its citizens. They have little time to conceal; they cannot get away.’

As the audience gave him a loud applause and he flew opening his arms out like.

Ben angrily said, “Fuck that. Son of a bitch,” and threw the remote control onto the table in front of him. “They were just another piece of shits who enjoyed torturing supes, nothing else.”

“But I didn't kill anyone,” you mumbled. “We are past the point of self-justification. Homelander is basically controlling the crowds. They would never pay to listen to us, Ben.”

Ben stared at the TV and said, “I'll teach them how to listen,” in a menacing manner. “You see? It's no longer about Butcher and his useless group. It has to do with our future.”

You could have argued with him about the future, but all you wanted was to avoid getting into another fight with Ben.

“I think such a guy wouldn't be innocent at all. We might be able to defeat the company if we can figure out how to properly express ourselves, explain to them how Vought tricked us, and show the real Homelander to the rest of the world. There isn't another way.”

“I know, I know,” he muttered.

As you could tell Ben was becoming enraged and feeling overwhelmed, you touched his bare chest, which had a little glow to it. “Hey, are you okay?”

He responded with, “I am,” placing his hand on yours and giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Can you please stop getting angry for a second? I can sense the heat building in your chest.” You muttered, “You're stressing me out here,” but you didn't remove your hand from his upper body. You could feel him cooling down beneath your touch once again. It was fine as long as it worked; you simply didn't know why.

“Well,” he said, arching an eyebrow, licking his lips, allowing you to touch him, and gently tracing his fingers over yours. His powerful, slow beats were calming in a way. “It's not too bad. Is it?”

You withdrew your hand from his sweating chest while rolling your eyes at him and making sure he was okay.

Ben had just showered when Butcher and Hughie showed up at the house.

Butcher remarked in a sly manner, “Glad, I delayed for an hour coming here to pick up you two,” as you and Ben got into the back of the car. “We could have interrupted something funny, judging by the all-wet hairs and all.”

“We were just finished training there!” you exclaimed, your face heated.

“It must be very good training, indeed. The entire fucking house was damaged like hell. You two spent a whole week all showering and training while we were dealing with the shit Soldier Boy caused.”

“Sorry for that, but it's not what you think, really.”

“I thought Soldier Boy and Crimson were having a relationship. Yet life goes on, don't they? There are always new, fine chickens and dolls all around.” Butcher smirked at Ben.

You were ready to add something about Ben and you having nothing to do, but Ben became enraged right away when Butcher brought up the Crimson Countess.

“Don't you fucking know how to stay silent and shut your useless mouth?” Butcher was obviously enjoying himself when he suddenly made Ben mad.

“What made you so furious now? Have I said anything untrue?”

Hughie leaned back in his seat and said, “Butcher, stop that,” sounding distressed as Ben continued to swear at them both and told Hughie to make Buther to suck him soon, so his mouth would be filled enough not to talk stupid.

“Why even do you become irate out of nowhere? After all, you murdered the poor woman.”

You looked up at Ben, asking with disbelief, “What? Why did you even kill Countess?”

The fact that Ben never brought it up startled you even more than Butcher's statement, as though it were nothing important. You were stunned and shocked beyond belief. At that point, you were at a loss for what to think. You were not sympathetic to her, though. After all, Vought used her as a cunning evil to harm both you and Ben. She was the one who paid you a visit in order to deceive you that day.

He tried to convince you immediately, giving you a gentle look as if he wanted you to understand what he had done. “She deserved whatever I've done,” he defended himself.

You acknowledged, “I know she did. But why?”

He looked at Butcher and then turned to face you, almost whispering, “Let's discuss this at a later time. All right?”

You found Annie nowhere to be found when you got to Butcher's home, where only Kimiko and Frenchie were inside. Kimiko watched Frenchie play with his phone, seeming bored.

“Why did it take so long for you to come here?” Frenchie inquired in an irritated manner to Butcher. “You give me too much to deal with, though you know I have things to do. Kimiko is also exhausted.”

Butcher sarcastically remarked, “Hello to you too, baby,” as he removed his coat. “I have not even once heard a complaint from her; she is an incredible Supe. She can't possibly be exhausted, right, doll?”

Ben moved you over to the edge of the coach and sat by you, resting his legs on the table, just as you were about to strike up a conversation with Kimiko. You were fine with him being close, though, so you said nothing at all. In fact, if you were honest with yourself enough, you would admit that his behavior around you somewhat comforted you.

“Kimiko and I have spent days looking for Black Noir and Queen Maeve, but we haven't made any progress so far. It's strange that they were absent from everything for so long. You see, something isn't quite right. According to Starlight, they have vanished.”

“The fuck you mean they are missing?” Butcher asked in disbelief.

“Why would Noir would go missing? It's not his thing to disappear,” you said. You thought you were thinking to yourself, but you had said it loud.

“He must have ran away when he saw us back together,” Ben said in am amused tone. “He fucking knows I'm going to kill him too. He’s a fucking dead man.”

You told Ben, “There must be a reason,” ignoring the way he talked about taking Earving's life. Right now, you don't need to see Ben being enraged over Noir and losing his temper again.

“How the fuck doesn't Starlight know where Queen Maeve is?” Butcher questioned Hughie.

Hughie took his head in his hands and responded, “She thinks Homelander did something to her. Maybe he killed Maeve.”

“How about Ninja Cunt, though? He is known as Homelander's right wing. Suppose he murdered Maeve. What about Noir?”

Frenchie remarked, “That's what I'm trying to understand,” and Kimiko communicated with him using sign language swiftly.

“All right, we'll watch out for this and see if he shows up again.” Butcher ended it quickly and continued. “Tomorrow, Soldier Boy and I are heading to New York.”

You eyed Butcher with suspicion, asking, “Why and why not me?”

“You two stayed at a lovely house for a week, for God’s sake. Aren't all of the showers enough? Is it not possible for you to separate for even a single day? Would you really miss this cunt that much?”

As Butcher continued to make assumptions about you and Ben, your face heated. Kimiko and Frenchie turned to face you in harmony, taken aback.

“You're just making the wrong assumptions.” You distanced yourself from Ben and explained, “It's not like that,” acting as though you had been proven guilty. Ben didn't appear to be supportive when you stared at him, yet it seemed as though he was okay with Butcher's comments. “What I want to know is what you're going to be doing here and why I have to stay here.”

“Yes, doll. To catch up with your old friend TNT Twins, we are going to join Herogasm. It's almost like we have to clear your names first. Maybe they know anything about the specifics of those events from decades ago, and they could say something that we could use against Vought. Though things might get messy soon, don't you worry, I'm going to keep an eye on your soldier so that he won't be pouding into any supe cunt there,” he said with a wicked smile.

Ben said, “Maybe we can also find a thing about Mindstorm there,” giving you a meaningful glance and a small touch on the arm before you could respond. You nodded to him.

“However, why must I stay here?”

“Kimiko needs to get some work done, and we need more muscle to help Frenchie and Hughie here. Let's don't take too much attention.”

“Okay,” you said, acknowledging the situation and giving up on further arguments. Herogasm was something you've always detested and loathed. Ben, the founder of it, was making it even worse. Yet the one thing about Ben's inconsistent anger—the energy in his chest—that scared you was his unpredictable temper. You weren't sure if he could find a way to control it soon enough.

You questioned Hughie, “By the way, where is Annie?” As a member of Vought and Seven, you were aware of how difficult it must be to handle the entire company's evil by yourself.

“I don't think she'll find Maeve anytime soon, but she's doing some research in order to locate her. She seemed to have disappeared in a heartbeat.”

You figured she was kind of involved in this too, based on the way they talked about her.

Ben abruptly stood up and stated, “I guess all the rooms are full. So, which room are Y/N and I staying in tonight?”

“Not full,” Hughie smiled in response. “I suppose there are now two available rooms since I will be seeing Annie tonight.”

Kimiko nodded quickly as she gave a smile to you.

Ben's expression darkened as Hughie continued to tell him and Annie that they would not be staying in this house any longer, while Ben quietly cursed. He glanced at you for a moment, but you ignored him and asked Kimiko to show you the room where you would be sleeping.

After an hour of inspecting the room and all of the furniture within, you heard a light knock on the door and knew it was Ben.

After a minute, you said, “Come in,” startled that Ben was holding back, opening the door this time without your permission.

He whispered, “As you wish, baby,” and carefully shut the door behind him.

In the dim light, his hair fell over his forehead, and his white t-shirt made your heart melt just a bit. Under his large arms, his t-shirt was too tight. Perhaps you weren't used to seeing him in his regular clothes, which is why you were still excited when you were around him.

“What now?” you muttered as you sat on the bed and observed him approach you.

He joked, “Don't get excited; I'm just here to make some conversation,” and sat down next to you right away.

You said, almost in a whisper, “Which is about?” while he briefly studied your body.

His darkened eyes lingered on your revealing nightgown, but you remained silent, intensifying the tension in the moment.

Ben's desire to force your body to the covers, get on top of you, take off your sweatpants, and get you ready for some post-breakup fucking was unbearable. He was well aware that you never touched yourself when you were by yourself in the house, and that really disturbed him because he knew that he was the reason for it. Ben could tell by the way you looked at him and by the beating in your heart that your body still yearned for him, but he also understood that he had to rebuild your trust in every way. He had to take care of his meat by hand up until that point.

After sighing and searching for the right words, Ben uttered, “About the thing I told you that we can discuss later.” He made an effort not to speak about Crimson bitch right away. She was the reason your nerves were already fragile. He had no reason to blame you for it.

As he attempted to read how you were feeling, you questioned in a cold voice, “Why did you kill her? Was it unintentional?”

You were curious as to whether he truly intended to murder her or if this was just another unintentional incident similar to the others. You needed to comprehend it, even though you didn't know why it mattered.

After a while, he said, “I blew up,” and when you realized he hadn't done it on purpose to exact vengeance for you, your posture straightened.

Ben said, “I was just trying to get information about you and your location before killing her,” as soon as he saw the look on your face. “I was cautious to do anything until she had spoken about you. But I was unable to control myself when she touched my nerves.”

“Did you kill her just because she was unfaithful?” You questioned him suspiciously, attempting to make sense of his motivations. Ben might tell you the truth or a lie, but you would still listen to him even if you weren't sure he would be completely honest with you. “In the end, it's her who deceived you. Whether Vought commanded her or not is important. She was the one who brought you there so they could capture you and then transport you to Russia.”

After pausing to comprehend what you were asking, Ben responded, “I would kill her anyway because of what she had done to both of us,” as if he had no idea how to answer properly. “Especially to you.”

You said, your eyes softening with sorrow, “I wonder what you would do to me if I were the one to trick you, Ben,” knowing that, after all these years, loyalty was what mattered most to him. “Even if I had every right to do so.”

“I would never hurt you,” he abruptly rejected, emphasizing each word in a hard voice. “I knew I would deserve it anyway.”

“I'm not so sure of that, Ben,” you said. “You're even more dangerous considering I'm getting weaker and you're ready to blow up anytime.”

His smile expanding, he added, “Hey, don't say such things,” took one of your hands, placed it on his warm chest, and whispered, “You have every power over me.”

Under his focused gaze, your face flushed, and after a moment, you reluctantly withdrew your hand.

“So, you're going to Herogasm tomorrow?” you said, attempting to change the topic. “Given how difficult it was to persuade you not to join decades earlier, you must have missed it quite a lot.”

“Are you feeling jeaolus?” he asked with a mischievous smile, and you grimaced.

“Why should I be? I'm just saying you might have missed the chance to join the party that you organized after all this time.”

“I'm not going there to fuck, baby; I'm not interested anymore,” he murmured, retaining an arrogant chuckle. “I'm going to call you when I get there.”

“I'm not sure.” You said to quit talking about Herogasm anymore. “I might be busy to pick up when you call.” Herogasm was the world's dumbest thing, especially since Ben founded it.

“Why may be you even busy, anyway?” This time Ben uttered serious words: “I'll call you nonstop, so keep your phone with you every moment.”

You responded with the same heedlessness, “I might.”

Ben smiled playfully and narrowed his eyes. “Since you too need to take care of yourself, it will actually be good for us to be apart for just a small amount of time.”

You naively asked, “About what?” as though he would make a crucial point.

“You might as well relax on this bed while I'm away because I’m pretty aware of you're not touching yourself, knowing I'd hear you in a second, huh?”

You became the deepest shade of scarlet in your cheeks and murmured, “I can't believe you.”

“I'm not making fun,” he declared with seriousness. “It is also a bodily necessity. You don't have to reject playing with yourself a bit. Being the reason is something that irritates me a lot.”

“I don't feel ashamed of taking care of myself because of you or anything else,” you immediately argued, ignoring the heat on your cheeks. “I have no problem touching myself while you're here. It's not all that important.”

Ben arched an eyebrow at your quick, brave, “If you say so,” followed by a sigh.

“I'm serious here, Ben,” you continued, growing agitated by his haughty demeanor and enormous ego. “I'll prove it.”

He studied your figure and growled in a low voice, “I won't promise that I won't focus on you or listen to the way you sound.”

“Then don't.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated very much. They keep me going. ♡˚.

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters @deans-spinster-witch @demodemo909 @stoneyggirl @cheynovak @libby99hb @moneyburner @jenn-777q @hey-there0-0 @purplerosequartz @shadowghoul2525 @darkqueen1995 @simpin4pixels @deebris @spideybv28

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absolutebl · 10 months

Text

Pit Babe - it's time for a Trash Watch!

I had to. Well, no I didn't, but COME ON. It's like Thailand is negging me. Let's burn rubber, shall we? Burn rubbers...?

The things I had been told going in about this show:

it's about car racing (this bores me)

it stars Pavel (my BL ult bias, he is my icon for a reason)

it started as an omegaverse y-novel but the A/B/O aspects would be stripped from the BL series

it's high heat

(There some chatter about whether point 3 was a mistranslation of something the author said, but don't bother me with trifles.)

Here's a definition of omegaverse:

Omegaverse, also known as A/B/O (alpha/beta/omega), is a subgenre of speculative erotic fiction, and originally a subgenre of erotic slash fan fiction. Its premise is that a dominance hierarchy exists in humans, which are divided into dominant "alphas", neutral "betas", and submissive "omegas".[1] This hierarchy determines how people interact with one another in romantic, erotic and sexual contexts.[2] (Wikipedia)

In my experience and opinion, omegaverse archetypes and tropes are often used to strip out female characters (and The Feminine) and as a tool to excuse extreme hyper-masculine behaviors without a critical feminist lens (leading to lazy characterization). Just as heat is an excuse to get nkd quickly, A/O/B is often an excuse for taboo and dubious consent actions and behaviors. Do I get why writers/readers enjoy it? Yes I do. Do I personally like it? Not particularly. (Although there are always exceptions.)

Putting all that aside, the above represents my foundational knowledge before Pit Babe started.

Oh and that the familiar BL faces appearing in this show were follows:

Pavel Naret (aka Pavel Phoom) from 2 Moons 2 & Coffee Melody - Pavel is a fluent English speaker, a bit of a drama monger, and a motorcycle rider/car-dude, this role suits him

Nut Supanut from Oxygen & Something in My Room - has an amazing voice, his somewhat wooden acting has improved steadily since Oxygen

Pon Thanapon - one of Star Hunter's stable first seen in the Gen Y series (where he stole the appeal of an intended pair), also v good in Make a Wish, I wish he'd get a lead role as he has a likable screen presence

Pop Pataraphol from La Cuisine - he's playing the Alpha rival and I'm not convinced he's suited to this role

Michael Kiettisak from Love Sick, Oxygen, Call it What You Want, Till the World Ends - playing the comic relief this time rather than his usual tortured stoic... huh

All the rest are either fresh faces or older experienced actors. Interesting mix. They must have some money behind this.

And now, get out your marshmallows! The dumpster is on fire! Let's start the roast.

Episode 1 - Platypus, Pickles, Pavel, & other Smoking Hot Problems

This first segment told with a 4 day retrospect, because I decided to do a trash watch only after @aliceisathome said I should.

My initial reaction:

the sheer audacity of Thailand being like "PitBabe is not omegaverse" and then serving "Alpha" to us on a platter in the first sex scene is

how dare

but also

what the actual fuck is going on? what world are we living in where a/b/o is LIVE ACTION ON OUR SCREENS?

we getting heat, knotting & mpreg next?

apparently this is my reality now

I'm not sure what weird quantum time stream I've jumped into but someone was all,

yes the whole world is hella screwed, but also...

Thailand has decided live action mm fanfic is gonna win it the culture wars

and I'm beginning to think they may be right

BL is now the platypus of the film industry

4 days later:

Considering how much chatter this caused there's a part of me that wondered if it was all intentional and a marketing ploy (to say it wasn't omegaverse when obviously it is). In which case... brilliant Machiavellian tactics, production.

But Thai studios are rarely this calculated in their promo. So I think it's all accidental. But it certainly caused a raucous few days on Tumblr.

On a completely different note, Babe's house looks like it started life as a particularly inventive Olive Garden. Or is that just me?

More random thoughts:

Pavel has had work done, why honey? You were the definition of perfect.

The smell thing is great, I love stuff to do with scent and necks. If omegaverse brings this to the table, fine. But...

Being all Alpha perfect butch manly man = I do not like Babe at all, I kinda want him to be brought down a peg. (Woo... pegging!) I never like narratives that glorify the captain of the football team (side eyes Cdrama CEO romances and Love O2O), Babe better have depth and damage (forget the pegging) of some kind or his behavior will get old FAST, faster than he drives (also, forget the pegging idea)

Nut is ideal in the Beta role. I mean, that's Way's character right? We all can see that. If it's not intentional, it's a miscast. I love how soft he is as as screen presence. He's great in this part.

None of the other characters are sticking out to me yet, but I'm prepared to love the side dishes in this, please make them swoon worthy!

I'm glad they didn't hold the Charlie = trickster reveal off, I like knowing he is a double agent up front.

Finally, with respect to an adequate trash watch, I'm in a pickle.

How am I going to drink for this show when there is so much else airing on Frigay? I can't keep track, if I'm drunk.

I need a strategy for this trash fire if the puns and snark are to spout forth! (HA Fourth!)

Controlled burn?

Anygay, see you all next week.

Episode 2 - Side Dish Addiction + Second Lead Syndrome are both infecting me at once

[FYI I gotta have my backup computer to watch this so that's why Imma sometimes be delayed getting the trash out to the curb.]

3 minutes! 3 minutes in and I needed to pause and wax snarkful. (Ouch, bet that hurts. Is waxing snark similar to a Brazilian but for BL? Is that why they all so hairless in The Sign?... I digress, where was I?)

Okay so the subber said Daddy but I don't think that word means what they think it means. Because Way said simply nong paa.

Usually they'll use the English word Daddy (pronounced Dah-deee) for, ya know, Actual Daddies (tm).

Wait wait:

Calling Daddy Actual

(My dumb sci-fi loving arse will see myself out the back before I start drawing Battlestar Galactica = Pit Babe connections. TOO FAR ABL. Too far.)

Look, I like the tension in this show. It's good to set up an unlikeable Alpha dog and then immediately turn him into an underdog, makes him a bit more likable. I still don't like Babe, but now at least I'm on his side.

Charlie = cute but v sus. Fortunately for him, Babe = cute but v thick.

Everyone calls Charlie Babe's dek. Yes sounds a bit like what you think but also means kid/child and SHOULD be translated as boy in this show. Why doesn't the subber get that? They a sub...ber after all. (I'll see myself out.)

Honestly, the script writers might know what they are doing with abo but our eng sub translator sadly does NOT. I'm so glad this is coming now in my BL watching life. When my ear and knowledge of Thai is so much better than it once was. Others much be SO CONFUSED.

Snicker. They just fucking with us, but it's fun to watch the mpeg speculation abound.

File this one under: Thailand's trouble with ESL plurals and also "you should have Pavel helping with these subs" sweethearts.

Production knows entirely what it's doing with this show and its omegaverse shizz (even if the subber doesn't) and I am very much enjoying the online carnage that results.

This dumpster fire continues off screen into the blogosphere and I continue to roast things over it.

Meanwhile, hi Pon! You so adorable! When you gonna lead out a BL for us?

Is Idol Factory stealing all of Star Hunter's talent? Are they the Red Racers of the BL world? These are the questions I ask myself as I watch this.

Is that AGE GAP I smell before me?

Is the 20 yr old college kid meant for the pit boss? Cause you all know I am a slut for age gaps.

Moment of a/b/o: Jeff's fear of touch/heightened personal space would be a plot marker for "baby doesn't want Alphas close cause he smells like an omega" but of course this show it not omegaverse. Not omegaverse at all.

nuh-uh

Linguistic corner!

Lung (sounds a bit like loo) is uncle(ish) it means basically a male relation older than phi. So Alan is the oldest in the crew.

Alan calls Jeff nu (which the subber translated as boy I would have gone with cutie or little one). Nu is a diminutive affectionate term that's technically gender neutral but is most often used by/on cute girls/women. Jeff did NOT like it. Then Alan sort of dodges through pronouns/particles settling on phi for I, ger for you, and ja for a particle. This is interesting because ger & ja kinda lower his age and status into a casual sphere. Not more intimate more equal to jeff... fascinating.

I love the new "Korean" red racer, he drinks my brand of soy milk. He is now my baby snake in the grass.

Get it? Snake.

He and Babe should end up together.

The fight wasn't bad, do both actors have kickbox training in their backgrounds?

Who am I kidding, I care only about Uncle Alan and Nu Jeff now. All others are irrelevant to me.

Also...

WHERE IS A BOY FOR WAY?!!! Or a Daddy. I do not care. (Methinks nether does he.)

I am now captain of the Way Appreciation Society. Let's all find a way... to get him some dick.

Also the BTS stingers are tons of fun. Looks like the set was a blast.

Finally, and I mean this kindly. Why isn't Noh Phouluang in this? He should have been cast as Winner. Bah. I'm biased.

But one should be with Noh.

Episode 3 - Side Dishes Delux

Gayest bridge n Thailand has made its obligatory appearance.

How much do I love uncle & nu? They are SO damn cute. Also nu flustered is the best kind of nu.

I could not care less about Babe and Charlie. Except I do love the smell thing.

Way will break my heart by getting his broken. He is right tho.

Tra la la. I feel like this is a bit like KP 2.0.

Charlie is a such a princess (and ace manipulator). Good thing Babe clearly likes being buttered up.

Babe's backstory was more interesting than I expected, I didn't think we would go so far into the paranormal side of a/b/o. I like it and I hope they lean into it quite a bit more. Make it part of the plot.

Unlike the kissing thing which seems to have been gotten over rather quickly.

I gotta say I'm enjoying the corporate sponsorship jockeying and tension more than I thought I would. I'm curious as to who Jef and Charlie are working for and what their motivation is. The plot itself is keeping me intrigued and that is rare for me with BL.

So no trash talk this ep, I was largely absorbed and entertained. I didn't event need booze. Shocking behavior on my part.

#giveWayaboy2023

Episode 4 - I (who never ship) am shipping the impossible

Here’s the thing. I just want this to be a better story than it is. Right now it’s kind of like a soap opera. I don’t hate lakorn, I really don't. To Sir With Love is a glorious chewing of the diamanté scenery (completed with death glitter). But...

If this is gonna be a soap opera it needs to lean into the messy side more than the tailored high concept side. Support characters and evil needs more screen time.

Instead, right now, I don’t know where I am with this show because it doesn't know where it wants to be. I’m kind of dangling in the middle of a dirty situation. It’s uncomfortable for me, and the show feels uncomfortable for the performers.

Also... I have questions.

Yes, of course I want to know what Charlie & Jeff are up to. Why can Jeff see the future?

But more importantly I NEED to know why Babe has a flying saucer bed?

That kind of lighting makes nobody look good, especially not at that angle. It’s very traumatic and I’m not wild about the shag rug either. I have concerns about Babe's taste. I guess is what I am saying.

On a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT note:

There’s absolutely no chemistry to justify this, but I have decided that I am going to personally advocate for, and ship, Way and the interloping not-really-Korean. They are both sort of own-moral-code types. I have tiny crush on Kim, and Nut is the prettiest, and Way is Best Boy so there it is, I would like them to hook up, please & thank you.

#giveWay2Kim2023

Arrow guy is cute, too. Will we get to see him bone?

Is he going to be another one of the adopted alpha super-kid pets?

What the hell, throw Arrow Boy a bone! All hot boys in BLs deserve bones.

Plot thickens.

Hah.

Thickens.

(I am an immature idiot.)

Episode 5 - wait wait way-t, can arrow boy have Way?

Look, BLabies, I didn’t get any screen caps this episode because frankly there wasn’t anything worth capturing.

I guess Charlie really does love Babe? Very dramatic if idiotic saving from the burning car. But Babe has gone to the broken Alpha place of extremely unlikeablability (frankly he was almost there at the start). If I were Charles B Spectacled I would be OUT by now.

Is that?

NO.

Don't get the plastic bowl.

No white towel sponge bath. Please kill this trope.

I mean, it's not as bad as singing, but that's because NOTHING is as bad as singing in a Thai BL.

AND the main boys are back together.

I don’t find their relationship or Babe’s lack of senses a particularly interesting aspect of the plot.

Unless, of course, Babe is pregnant and that's why he lost his Alpha sniffer.

BUT I do love the sides.

Jeff = the introvert precog who can’t/wont do people and Alan = the extrovert people person who WANTS but doesn’t understand him.

Were Jeff and Charlie ALSO raised by Evil Daddy MacEvilPants?

I liked the way Arrow CEO & Way looked at each other. Way, hon, give up on Babe (he sucks) and get thyself a billionaire bf with great aim and BDE.

On a completely different note, the best thing about this show is the blooper reel. That thing with the green smoothie going down his pants was hilarious!

In conclusion, this was a green smoothie down the pants episode. I was entertained, and it’s probably gonna be good for the plot in retrospect, but it was kind of squishy and unpleasant at the time.

Episode 6 - Are they actually listening to us now? Is Tumblr bugged?

This was a fun ep full of like actual racing and shizz.

Whatever.

Charlie is on the team now. All the teams, apparently.

Can we talk about Jeff and Alan?

The apology scene! Did you hear that Alan dropped to chan/ger? Eeeee!!! So cute. (He equalized their relationship in a soft way.)

Get it with that language play hottie. Next up: lengua play.

Please & thank you.

Meanwhile, as all of the Internet knows, they went fully in for omegaverse - no bars.

I have to say, one of the greatest typos (or whatever) in existence is enigma instead of omega.

That's where I personally would rank in the omegaverse.

Hello, my gender is... enigma.

Apparently it's a/b/o and sometimes e! Also sometimes switch-ee

Oh I'm very proud of myself with that one.

Funfunfun

Charlie. Babes. When a man asks to be thrown up against the wall. You throw him against that wall.

OMG is that arrow boy looking at Way in the bar?

3 seconds later.

Noooo.

Wait come back.

Noooooo.

That’s what I actually want to watch!

OMG. Who said nu was the first step to teelak?

I flipping love Alan.

Ah the boyfriend ep. Thank you, but I still don't trust Charlie.

Poor Way.

But nice crying jag, and I don’t say that often in Thai BL.

Now let him go, Way.

A boy with his arrows is waiting.

(source)

Note for the future: tumblr has a bug that stops allowing edits after a certain time/number, thus my full trash often occur in 2 segments as a result. Click on the "abl trash watches bl" tag for the full thing if you're reading this and later episodes are missing.

#pit babe the series #pit babe #thai bl #abl trash watches bl #Pavel Naret Promphaopun #pavel phoom #trash watch #2023 bl #currently airing bl #watch along #Nut Supanut #Pon Thanapon #พิษเบ๊บ

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weird-is-life · 1 year

Text

Sweet talk

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: You tell Spencer how handsome you think he is and he gets flustered

Warnings: use of y/n and petnames, fluff

Words: 0.6k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm sorry this is trash lmao

Spencer is reading on the other side of the couch and you are, well were reading too. You stopped for a second to give your eyes a little rest, but Spencer's pretty face distracted you.

You are now just looking at him, wondering how can he be so handsome. It's actually really unfair, that he gets to look like that.

The sun shining from outside is making it even worse for you, because it perfectly highlights his features and it makes his gorgeous brown locks look even prettier.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Spencer breaks you out of your thoughts, his eyebrows are drawn up in a question. Your cheeks go pink, but you are only a little embarrassed about getting caught.

"Nothing" you mumble, before you break into the biggest grin,"it's just, that you are so pretty!"

It's now Spencer's turn to blush. Suddenly, you realise you don't say how handsome he is to him as often as you should, so you make it your mission to tell him how handsome he is right now.

You crawl across the couch to his side and put your legs over his, so you are basically sitting in his lap.

"It is actually unfair, Spence!" you dramatically pout at him, "how did you get so handsome?" you playfully poke his cheek.

"Stop...."Spencer begs, as his cheeks get visibly redder.

"I'm just telling you the truth" you giggle, " I mean, look at you!"

"You have such a beautiful hair, how is it so soft? " you say as you play with it, " and such a lovely skin, have I told you, I'm jealous of it? No? Well, i am" Spencer just shakes his head, you don't know if he's answering your questions or if he's shaking his head to stop your praises.

"Do you know what I also love?" you grin at him.

"What?" his asks, as if he wants you to humor him.

"Your eyes", you say softly, " they are the prettiest ever. I could look at them for hours." You are perhaps being a little dramatic, but it's all true.

"y/n-" Spencer would be lying if he said, he isn't enjoying your sweet words, but he's never had someone say these things to him. Yeah, Derek calls him 'pretty boy', but that's just as a teasing. He knows, when you say it, you mean it and your loving looking eyes are studying him so closely, that he thinks, he might just melt under your gaze.

Spencer is just about to say something, when you speak again,"But most importantly, I love your kind heart and your beatiful mind, it's my favourite thing about you how selfless and caring you are-"

That's it, Spencer can't let you ramble anymore, because he knows, he'll cry if he does. He tackles you gently to the side. "Wha-,"you start.

"Baby, I love the sweet praises, but I m-might just cry, if you continue" Spencer confesses and frankly, he's not far from crying.

"I'm sorry, d-did I say something wrong?" you immediately sober up from your cheery, teasing mood.

"No no, sweetheart. Far from it, it's just- nobody has ever told me all this at once before, i-i guess it feels a little overwhelming hearing all of it, that's all" he explains and your worry fades away a little.

"Really? I didn't say anything wrong? Because if I did, you should tell me Spence-"

"Really, sweetheart."

"Promise?" you ask, just to be sure.

"Promise." He smiles at you and can't help it, so you hug him tightly. " I'm sorry," you mumble into his chest.

"For what? I told you, you didn't do anything wrong."

"For not saying how wonderful you are often enough," you pout.

"But you do, " Spencer argues," you literally told me at least 5 times today, how handsome you think I am."

"Still, it's not enough," you stubbornly reply, which makes Spencer chuckle.

"Okay, pretty girl, whatever you say," he smiles again at you, before pecking your lips.

"I love you, Spence," you tenderly say and fuck, Spencer doesn't know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you.

"I love you more, sweetheart," he replies, eyes almost watering again from your affection. You sigh happily at that and continue to cuddle him. Both of your books long forgotten.

Thank u for reading! Hope you liked it, feedback is always appreciated.

Have a great day☀️peace out

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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riot-ghost · 2 years

Text

So I've started a DP writing prompt and I don't know whether or not to finish it so I'll set my base ideas here and see if it hits.

Danny slammed his locker shut, kicking the metal door so hard that it crumpled like a can of soda, barely hanging on by the top hinge. The school was mostly empty, given that school was out regardless. But the remaining students were in a similar state as him.

The students remaining in the school were all in different stages of grief, really. The whole scene looked like something straight from one of Jazz's textbooks. Paulina was picking up her locker, talking with Star about Phantom. Denial.

Danny was the perfect picture of anger. Pure rage leaked from every pore. Star had only just passed bargaining, the mascara tear-stains from begging with her parents are enough evidence of that.

Dash sat against his locker across the hall, staring into blank space. Mikey sat in the cafeteria, head buried into the phone he'd gotten off of his parents.

All of Casper High was like this. Tucker sat next to Mikey, the vibrant screen glaring at his thick-framed glasses. Sam was trashing the art room, her angry screams heard from where Danny stood in the hallway. He'd gotten into his locker and was currently busy tears apart every picture he had with his parents.

What Danny really wanted to know, what all of the students did, was why. Why was this happening? What led to this?

It had started the Friday before, really. School was going as normal. Danny was on edge. There hadn't been a ghost attack all week. He sat in his seat, ready for English class. Mr. Lancer came in. He set down his book, took off his reading glasses, and stared at his class.

"Our funding has been cut." No one says anything. Mr. Lancer sighs, rubbing his face. "I... Shouldn't be the one to break this to you." He turns to the corner of the room. "I... Have to be." He sighs. "Eighteen years ago, I got hired for an acting job." Still, silence follows his words.

"A government-funded project. Full time, the pay was astronomical. I was suspicious, but I was broke. I was so indebted that I would have joined the military. Or, hell, I would've done anything." Mr. Lancer took a seat. "I was briefed on this... This project. The Amity Project. A fake town, something about the ambient air. Genetically mutated kids. I didn't understand it all."

There's a click from somewhere. Just a background sound, hardly anything. "I didn't understand the sheer size of the project. A whole fake town? I-I was in awe. But then, when you guys got here, to this school, and the project took a turn. No longer was the project raising you guys. It wasn't... It was something twisted and wrong. It was torture." He hangs his head. "No one told me. No one told me until it was too late, and I was too far in, and-"

Mr. Lancer swallows. "I'm sorry." He places his head in his hands. "The Amity Project has come to a head. The portal's been shut down, and you all will be... Dispersed. Rehomed."

"Why?" Danny finds the word falling from his mouth before he can even think.

"They say it's because our benefactors were almost caught. Downsizing. I... I recommend you all stay here. At school. Your parents. They... They are your parents, but they are scientists. This has been a job to them. You'll all be given your housing and guardian's information by Monday. I'm sorry."

Danny had only gotten minimal information from his 'parents'. Just that they'd be busy sorting through years of backlogged data. Just that they were upset that it was all over. No one could stand being around the edge of the town- the sheer number of people just on the other side of the fence was overwhelming.

The juniors of Casper had stayed in Mr. Lancer's English class for hours after the bombshell had been dropped. They'd all had some sort of deep-rooted mutual understanding with each other. And they were all feeling. All feeling anger, depression, they were all feeling grief.

The cards that sat in their back pockets, the creased folders, everything. They all stood in a line, now, all twenty-four students. All of the younger students had been cleared. The older ones had already been gone. But they knew, those 24 students, they knew that it wasn't them that the Amity Project ruled around. It was them.

The students looked less their age as they watched car after car pull up in front of the school. They look like warriors, watching the 'civilians' step out of their cars.

Danny is in the middle of the line, hunched forward a bit as he twists and rips at the flag pole in his hands. He crunches it like it's made of playdough, the metal creaking and grinding in his hands.

Sam is to Danny's left, dripping in blood red paint. Her gothic attire is soaked, her hand color is lost to the red. She looks hellious, like she'd crawled from her own personal pit in hell.

Tucker stands to Danny's right. His posture is firm. His eyes are calculating. His jaw is set. His face is stone. He's tall, looming.

... So. Anyways. I'm thinking from here Sam goes with Diana Prince, Danny goes with Clark Kent, and Tucker goes with Bruce Wayne. The rest of the class goes with assorted civilians (or minor vigilantes). The class remains in contact with each other via letters. The story will follow them coping with not being normal, with the rage and anger, and their evolution into being a new phase of heroes. Heroes without masks or names or anything.

Jazz is living with Barry Allen. She was specifically separated from Danny, and kept that way. Vlad is a halfa, but he's part of the project. Dani is his daughter, and Dan was an unscripted blip in time.

Any feedback would be nice! I just don't know if it'll turn out the way I'm thinking it will.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc x dp #batman #jason todd #batfam #danny phantom crossover #justice league #diana prince #clark kent #tucker foley #sam manson

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sweetnans · 1 month

Text

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.7)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Smut ahead, minors do not interact

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6♡

m.list

The date with Todoroki was breathing inches away from your neck, and your ankle was far away from being completely healed. Recovery girl was making all her efforts to put it back in place, but the swell and the red were difficulting the process.

"Tell me you can fix this," you begged to the woman.

"Don't worry, I'll have it done before you know it, lay down and relax, it'll make it easier" She said smiling warmly at your state.

You slept the equivalent of four hours in the span of two days. You were beat, so the sentence lay down and relax was sent from heaven.

You did lay down and relax for six hours, and when you woke up, your ankle was wrapped in bandages and a certain someone was by your side.

"How was the date?" He asked.

"There's no respect anymore, I just opened my eyes," you joked, stretching your arm for a glass of water that you knew Recovery Girl left in the table. He grabbed the glass and handed it to you. "Thanks"

"So?" He was eager to know.

"Well, aside from my ankle, it was pretty nice. He behaved like a gentleman if that's what concerns you. " You gulped the water down your sore throat.

Aizawa watched you carefully. Since almost 5 years, he turned from teacher to a father, but it was a daily challenge mantain two young girls that were in different stages in their life.

"Mrs. Bakugo called me to congratulate me for having a really nice and well-mannered daughter. I know she wasn't talking about the unhinged teenager busting my windows with indie music. " He smirked playfully, and you rolled your eyes.

"That's odd," you said, accommodating yourself in the bed. "Since when does she prefer indie music?"

"Nice try on making me forget about the elephant in the room," he stated, leaning on his chair a bit. "So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to find out from someone else, like when Mrs. Bakugo told me that my daughter sprained her ankle at her party?"

"There's nothing to explain, actually. We were about to go home when a slow dance crossed in front of us, so he said hey one last dance? And I said yeah, why not? And then tragedy, " you puked your words out.

"Yeah, that matches the description" he hummed in response.

"What description?"

Talking to Aizawa was always so cryptic. You just had six hours of sleep. Your head fetl like a feather, and he started to play around with hidden clues and schemes of secrets.

"Oh, before I forget, your phone is off, Bakugo started calling non-stop, and he was getting in my nerves,"

He said like he was parting ways, but he didn't lift or move a single muscle to get up of his seat. It was a trap.

"Why didn't you pick up?" You asked fetching your phone to turn it on. Jirou would definitely be there with hundreds of texts unanswered.

"Oh, I didn't have the chance before he appeared at the door," he shrugged, pointing at his back with his thumb

You were so mesmerized by the logo of your phone and disoriented that you felt like you didn't catch exactly what he said.

"Come again?" You squinted your eyes at him. "What did you just say?"

"Bakugo and me had a very pleasant chat"

Oh, he was enjoying your suffering. What was happening to the world that all of a sudden, it was the funniest thing to mess up with you?

"You didn't," you said at the same time that he was nodding.

According to what he said, when he saw you in the dress the day before, you were actually pissing yourself to know, but the thought of it came with an immeasurable amount of denial. What could they have talked about? Did you or did you not want to know?

"Relax," he said, stopping the cartwheels in your head. "He told me how it happened." he glanced at your now normal ankle. "And that he was very sorry that he couldn't stop it. That's why I said it matched the description, what you said, and what he said, but do you know what doesn't match the description?"

You were almost afraid to ask. He had his purpose, and you led him exactly where he wanted you. Being a parent wasn't easy, but Aizawa knew damn well how to play his cards when it came to his daughters.

You looked at him, waiting for him to continue the interrogation. He sighed defeated.

"Eri told me about your date with Todoroki, I thought that maybe she was confused, but then I realized when Bakugo told me that he invited you at the last minute, that there wasn't any chance for Eri to know that piece of information even as nosy as she is"

Busted.

After what Jirou said that morning and with Aizawa looking at you, not with disappointment eyes, more like with I don't understand eyes is that you realized that you were in fact betraying at yourself.

You wouldn't lie. Last night, you were just a twisted ankle away to kiss him.

You were madly in love with the concept of love, and even though all this Bakugo mess started like a mistake, it suddenly evolved to something else. You were catching feelings for the bastard. And you couldn't deny it anymore.

He also played his cards very well, being the stubborn asshole who eagerly wanted to get to know you to the point of pushing you out of your comfort zone to in fact, have a good time to him. The one night stand was surely a mistake, your first time doing something so reckless and so unlike you. You wanted to get rid of him because he was the walking reminder of something that didn't describe you at all, but then he turned it in a way you didn't see coming.

Does he feel the same for you? Doubtful. It wasn't a secret that he was used to those encounters you wanted to avoid. The adamant behavior of getting your attention was just the ego boost he needed after you completely flicked him off.

You liked him. As a friend and with real and not so friendly feelings, but you weren't sure that his acts towards you had the same meaning.

"I know what you're thinking, and you're totally right," you said. There was nothing to be ashamed of exploring your options. Todoroki was hot. He was kind, but you had your mind wrapped around another man, and it wasn't fair for him.

"I mean, he's a nice guy, but after my secret conversation with Bakugo, it seems he's not playing around when It comes to you"

You rolled your eyes, and his brows furrowed.

"Just because he wanted to be heroic doesn't mean he's into me. Isn't that the purpose of this school? Acting like heroes when someone is in distress?"

"Yes, it is, but believe, calling the victim twenty times in one hour doesn't seem like the school purpose to me"

Oh, the world was ending. He was delusional too.

"He felt guilty because he handed me the heels," you murmured, trying to convince him and yourself that he wasn't into you that way.

"I'm just pointing at the facts," he stated, smacking his palms on his knees. "About the Todoroki date, are you sure you want to go in that state? You can always say I didn't let you go"

That state had different meanings. One of them was about the now normal but partly healed ankle, and the other was about your train of emotions that was ready to crash.

Dadzawa always setting the bar higher and breaking the daddy issues.

"It's okay. I can't leave him hanging, and besides, I can always turn a romantic date to something completely platonic. I'll give it another try when I get hold of my feelings again, " you smiled through the tumultuous feeling of something breaking slowly inside of you.

You were stuck. Stuck in the moment where you don't know what to do with your feelings, and also, you don't want to hurt somebody else for the sake of it.

...

Bakugo had a rough night. He woke up several times at night wondering of your state. He paced through his bedroom, feeling extremely guilty for not taking you straight to the emergency room. At the first light, he started texting you. The double check stared at him but never changed its colors. Shit.

He started calling after it. The first times the waiting tone received him and made him curse under his breath, and then after what it felt like the twentieth time, the call didn't even get past the first beep. Disconnected.

That was the sign he needed to get his jacket, put on some trousers and go to your room.

"Oh my god, stop it," Jirou spoke through the cloaed door inside, annoyed with the loud knocking that reverberated in the hallway. "What do you want?" She said before realizing that Bakugo was in front of her.

"Where is she?" He asked, gasping for air. He ran from his building to yours and took the stairs in both of them.

Jirou was visibly asleep before he came. She had a lousy shirt and she was barefooted.

"Uhm I took her to recovery girl, and she swore that she would be fine," she said, glaring at the windows. "But now that you mention it, what time is it?"

"It's almost nine," he said, grabbing his phone to check the clock.

"Jeez, I took her at six this morning. She hadn't texted you?"

Jirou walked inside the door, and Bakugo followed. Your bed was made, and there were wrinkles on the duvet. He realized that you didn't catch an eye last night and felt guiltier than ever.

"She didn't text me either"

The state of Jirou was the same as you. Barely three hours of sleep did its damage on her face, and the bags under her eyes were really showing it.

"Don't worry, I'll go check on her, and I'll text you. Go back to sleep ears. " He threw the nickname to level the kindness so unlike him.

Jirou raised her eyebrows at him, very surprised and now surely convinced on what team she was.

The way to the infirmary was long enough to gather his thoughts about you, what to say, and how to approach the fact that you almost kissed last night. He was head over heels over you, and even though he was known to be a full player who liked to mess around with chicks, the gossip about it wasn't totally like that. He never had the need to dissipate the rumors because he realized that if he'd say something about everything that people invented about him he would spend all his college years trying and convincing the people to believe him and that wasn't who he was. He acted by instinct, he made the rules, and he would never follow a bunch of assholes who got nothing better to do than to spread useless information about him.

He never felt the urge to see someone in a desperate way that he was feeling at that moment. He was basically running to get to you through the crowded hallways, bumping into people's shoulders.

How did this happen? A week ago, you were just a pain in the ass, a little and invisible splinter in his skin that bothered more than hurt. He didn't know you very well, but when it came to you, he felt overprotective, he felt like he needed to see you more, to know every little piece of information about your life, damn he didn't even know your backstory aside from stripes of details that people said about you but nothing else, he wanted more and he would do anything to guarantee his stay in your life.

"Bakugo"

The voice of the man who was his teacher on his annoying ages startled him. He was outside the infirmary, his arms crossed over his chest and with the same exhausting look on his eyes.

"Mr. Aizawa" Bakugo felt like all the air of his lungs was pulled out.

"She's fine. She's resting" straight to the point like always. "Her ankle is healed too"

"That's very good news, sr," he said, stuffing his hands on his pockets.

"Yeah," Aizawa nodded. "I was wondering why you didn't tell me"

Damn. The man could be frightening even for Bakugo.

"I don't have any excuse," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "She told me she'd be fine and Iet her, that was so reckless of me." The last part was more for Bakugo than Aizawa. He should've grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder to the emergency room.

"She's so stubborn" Aizawa stated rolling his eyes and eyeing you from the outside. You were still deep asleep. "She wouldn't have let you, don't be so hard on yourself"

"Yeah, but it was the right thing to do," he said, looking at you too. Your face was relaxed, and your mouth was slightly open to let the air get out of your system. He felt his stomach flutter.

"Your mother called me this morning and told me what happened, I'm glad she was with you." Aizawa was trying not to scare the boy, but it was difficult when you were the one injured. He wanted to say thank you without saying it just to mess with Bakugo. He hoped the poor guy was smart enough to read his intentions. "Before you picked her up, I went to her room, and she was happy, I haven't seen her that happy in a long long time"

He left the "thank you" hanging, but Bakugo knew damn well what followed the last sentence. His cheat puffed out, and he was motivated enough to tell you everything when you woke up.

"I'll stay with her until she wakes up, go to class, I'll tell her to reach for you once she's fine"

Bakugo nodded, and even though he didn't want to leave you, he needed to gather his feelings to come up with the best idea to actually confess.

...

The day went by, and you lingered in your room, watching three outfits laid in your bed. Three different choices, and you liked all of them. That was the first reason why you felt like the date with Todoroki suddenly, and because of your feelings, was turning slowly into something very, very friendly and platonic. You had three choices, and you liked all of them. If the said date was something with relevance, you would be losing your mind over it and in reality you were feeling very chill about it.

You picked a white top and some baggy jeans. It was casual. Todoroki sent you the address at lunch, and you knew the bar very well. Many students went there to watch games or to cry about academic failures.

He didn't pick you up. Instead, you walked alone to the place. It was crowded, and plenty of people were there enjoying themselves, sipping beer and cackling about dumb jokes.

You found your date in the corner of the room in a booth, he was mindlessly scrolling through his phone when you approached.

"Hi," you said, smiling brightly at him.

He did the same and returned the greetings.

"I thought on waiting for you outside your building, but I was coming from the opposite direction," he excused himself the minute you got a seat.

"Don't worry about it," you discarded his apologies. "I completely understand, and besides, the air is warm enough to stay in the open"

"You're right." he played with the napkin under his hand.

The ambient didn't change one bit. It was awkward like the two of you knew that it wasn't going to work or regretted the date right before it happened.

It felt like a huge weight in both of you. Gladly, the drinks appeared not much after the awkward silence, so you jumped into the opportunity of letting go a litte of that enormous tension in the air.

After a sip or two of your drink, you let your tongue take the upper hand of the conversation. You talked about the agency of his father, about some other heroes, college stuff, and people. He told you about his years in UA high school, how class 1A behaved, and how Aizawa was as a teacher.

"And Bakugo, he was the most annoying prick of all, but I liked him, I discovered that pretending and calling him my friend was funnier than to try to ignore his attitude, he changed tho, after the war"

Todoroki was matching your drinking speed, and the date turned into a hangout between two longtime friends.

You laughed about him being so oblivious about people, and he laughed at you very subtly about your stories. You two got along very well, and you felt relaxed when the date lost its label.

"God, I'm really having a good time, you know, I was pretty nervous when you asked me out, and then something changed, and I almost bail, I'm so glad that I didn't"

You speaking more than you should was so you when it came to drinking. You stopped at the third, you weren't drunk just a little tipsy, very aware of your surroundings but not very in control of your mouth.

"I felt the same, don't misunderstand this, you're very pretty and you always caught my attention but yesterday I was scrolling through media and I saw a picture of you and Bakugo at some sort of gala. The date felt wrong after that"

The comment didn't hurt at all. You felt sorry.

"It was so unexpected," you said without trying to justify yourself.

"I heard the rumor, and I remember talking with Midoriya that Bakugo needed some grounding. You humbled him, you're our heroe"

Despise the fact that your act was very public and spoke out loud. You nodded, raising your glass and waiting for him to cling his against yours.

"What a nice surprise, what are we celebrating guys?"

The noise of the glasses clinging died under the voicr of Bakugo, who was suddenly standing beside your booth.

You wanted to die.

"What are you doing here?" You blurted in a messy way.

"I was just passing by," he answered curtly. "Icy-hot I haven't seen you in ages"

The way your eyebrows almost went to the back of your head because of his lack of manners was above you. He ignored you completely to engage a conversation with your so-not date. You were confused and staring at him while he made a huge effort to forget you were right under him in the booth.

"Excuse me," you said, moving his big and bulky body out of your way to go to the bathroom. You pointed to the restrooms to Todoroki, and he nodded, Bakugo leveraged the momentum to scoot himself in your seat.

Your head was buzzing, and suddenly, the effect of the alcohol was banished. You took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and dialed Jirou's number.

"You're speaking to Denki. Who's there?" You never thought you would be so happy to hear your friend's voice.

"Thank god, put it on speaker," you waited for a moment and then continued. "Bakugo's here talking with my fucking date"

"WHAT?"

The sound of Jirou's drumsticks hitting the floor was loudly enough to have you to take the phone far from your ear.

"I know, I don't know what to do," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror' stall.

"Did he say something?" Jirou asked.

"No, he completely ignored me"

"He's pissed," Denki added, laughing. You heard how Jirou smacked his arm through the phone.

"I texted him earlier about my ankle, but he didn't answer me back. It's not like I could possibly have told him about the date which, just so you know, turned into a not date"

"I'm going to ask for the latter later, where are you hiding?" Jirou said concern dripping from her voice.

"I'm in the bathroom hiding. This sucks. I feel like I have to explain myself, but again, why? I'm not doing anything wrong, and we are nothing and-" you mumbled.

"What about the kiss?" Your friend interrupted and Denki gasped.

"What kiss??"

"There wasn't a proper kiss. It was just the impulse. " You tried to dissipate the chaos.

"I say you go back and tell them you threw up and want to go home, we can pick you up if you want"

You were gathering your options. They were just a few and one worse than the other.

"I'm fine. I'll hold it until Bakugo decides he wants to leave and then everything will be okay again"

Jokes on you. Your date evolved into a threesome.

Todoroki, Bakugo, and you were sharing drinks and awkward conversations where the main topic was something that completely left you out. You were shrinking in your seat, hoping to disappear.

"And then he forgot to pull the lever." Bakugo laughed above the music. He had several drinks on his body, and you were fully sober by the time he decided to stop.

A weird and sudden silence fell amongst yourselves, and you knew it was your chance to finally end your torture.

"Oh my god, how late is it?" You widened your eyes watching your phone and locking it immediately, if someone dared to ask you the time you would have no idea. "I'm going to call it a night, but you two can stay and enjoy, please don't let me stop you"

You urged Bakugo to step the hell up for you to run the far away and as soon as possible.

"You're right. It's been a long night. Since we're heading to the same point, I should walk you home, or do you want to do it, Todoroki?"

Always so polite. And so uncalled.

You could feel the headache forming in your head.

"It's fine by me, I'm going to stay for a while anyways, Midoriya is ending his shift at the agency, so we're going to meet here for some beers" he looked at you. "Is okay with you?"

Internally, you were begging for him to invite Bakugo to stay too. In the outside you shrugged.

"I'll make sure she's safe and sound." he passed his arm behind your back and started moving you towards the exit.

What the future had for you was nothing else than a long and bizarre trip back home.

The walk back the buildings was silent. You shrugged under his arm because of the cold breeze that penetrated your bones.

"Here," he took off his jacket and handed it to you.

"Thanks," you muttered.

You could tell that he was pissed as Denki said. The audacity of the man and the act he played was beyond your own imagination.

You made a mistake. That was something obvious, but he came out of nothing without knowing the entire context. Besides that, he crashed your date without any explanation because you could definitely have your ideas of it, but none of them were fully confirmed.

"My building is over there," you said when suddenly he was walking you towards his building instead of yours.

"I figured that if we are already out this late, maybe we should prolong the night a bit"

His gruff voice did nothing to hide the fact that he felt jealous because of the scene he found in the bar. He went there to have a whisky or too just to cool off his predicament of how to say to you what he actually felt for you. He wasn't very kin to verbalize his emotions, and there was always a chance that they came out wrong. He wanted to avoid that.

Bakugo guided you to his room. For some reason, you were feeling the need to say something about the date with Todoroki to explain yourself. But you were torn inside. What if he didn't care and you were making everything you thought he felt up?

You carried your feet along the stairs without even caring about your ankle. Your mind was clouded with racing throughts that were scrambling your brain.

Without noticing, you were inside Bakugo's room. He turned on the light and started picking up things he had scarred on the floor.

After he picked up a shirt, you took your chance to sit on the marron carpet underneath your feet.

"There's a chair behind you," he said side eyeing you from his spot in front of his bed.

"I need to reconnect with the earth." You tried to joke around, but he didn't even return his gaze at you.

After he folded his clothes and rearranged his closet for what it felt an eternity, he took a seat in front of you on the floor, his back against his bed.

At that point, for you, even if the alcohol was gone, the silence was unbearable.

"Fine, you want me to say it, I'll say it," you sighed. "What you saw is not what you think"

"I didn't know you were a mind reader. Tell me what I think"

The scowl on his face grew deeper by the second. If he wanted to pretend that he wasn't bothered, he was doing an awful job.

"It started as a date. He asked me out before...you know and I said yes and-"

"Why didn't you say no after we went together?"

You knew it was the booze talking. He had a couple of glasses back in the bar, and you were absolutely, one hundred percent sure, that he wouldn't say the things that he was saying fully sober.

"I didn't want to be that kind of person." You shook your head at the sound of your words. You didn't want to be someone who stood up another, but you were willing to be the kind of person to ignore your own feelings.

Bakugo was silent in front of you. He was realizing that he had no right to be mad at you because he still hasn't made the courage to confess properly at you. You were walking on eggshells disguised as assumptions.

"Just so you know, he saw our photos and he wanted to bail the date too"

You played with your fingers, waiting for an answer or some sort of reactions. Your eyes were stuck on the movement between both of your hands that you didn't notice when Bakugo smiled sufficiently.

"Tsk," he called your attention. "The balls of that poor little bastard shrinked because he saw you with me? Pathetic"

You said those words before because you thought that it would mend what was broken. You didn't think it would inflate something that was already full. His own ego.

"I can't stand you," you said, rolling your eyes at him while he smirked across of you.

That cocky bastard. He was the only one who could possibly turn an excuse into something about him.

"Says the one who went out with another guy after almost kissed me," he blurted with a plastered smile on his face. Oh, now he was enjoying it.

"I didn't kiss you." You crossed your arms over your chest and launched your boobs up. Bakugo felt the drool pooling on his mouth.

"That's why I said almost"

The tension was palpable. He had to move from his spot to rearrange his clothes without you noticing. Change of position with a very subtle movement on his Jean's sipper.

"For what I recall, you were the one who tried to kiss me"

You were oblivious to his acts. Lookin straight to his eyes because for one reason or another, the staring contest was on, and you weren't ready to lose.

"It was mutual," he answered, pointing at you from his seat. "I think we should try again, just to see if it was worth it"

He looked at you. Your physical language changed a lot since you two entered his room. You were gorgeous playing dumb when he could see through you and notice that you were almost as horny as him.

"Shut up," you exclaimed. "You ruined my fucking date you don't deserve shit"

"Uh, we are using bad words. It seems like it really got twisted in your panties"

"The only thing twisted in my panties is you"

You noticed about your mistake right after you blurted the words out. The change in the atmosphere had you gasping for stolen air. There wasn't any chance that he would let your mistake die.

"I wish," he said. His tone was completely even. "Just so you know, I like you in jeans, but I prefer you in skirts, I like your legs," he tried to dissipate the tension, but it did exactly the opposite.

"Oh now we're talking bodies?" You quirked your brow at him, and he scoffed.

'If we are talking body..." he raised his arms in defense just to add "l like your boobs"

"I like your hands." You followed his game.

"You have a great ass"

"I really enjoy watching your back and when you flex your arms"

"You do have nice hips, and don't get me started about your lips"

The intensity of his eyes on you were making havocs on your body. You were visibly flushed because of his words, and apparently, you had any will to stop.

"I lied when I said your dick was small.' You licked your lips. He found it the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

"Yeah?"

Only a mumble.

"Yeah, and I lied when I said I never wanted to see it again"

He was looking at you across the room with such an intensity that you didn't realize that you were launching yourself to him until you were straddling him. His hands were quick enough to grab your ass and to reposition your body against his, your core hitting his growing bulge.

His eyes were half lidded, looking up at you. You sunk a little on him to be at the same height. Crimson eyes right in front of you. Full of lust, desire, and just for him to know, a little bit of love.

"Are you going to give me my kiss?" He whispered right above your lips. "Or do I have to do it myself?"

The tone of his voice did something inside of you. It was like electricity running through your system. Forget the alcohol and the adrenaline of being in a battle, this was ten times better.

"I'm starting to think that the only thing you do is talk," you gasped.

His lips tightened closer yours in what it felt like a smile. His upper lip was touching yours, a faint caress spoiling you on what was about to happen.

Instead of the mutual belief, you were the one who connected your lips. The kiss was hungry, adamant, like you were chasing something you couldn't fully reach.

His tongue swept your lips, gaining its entrance to your mouth. Both tongues collided in a war that left you completely breathless.

His hands were groping your ass and swaying your hips to generate some sort of friction on your lower parts. You were definitely turned on by that.

Looking for some air to get inside your lungs, you backed off a little. A tiny string of saliva connecting the two of you leaving trace of what happened.

"Can this get any more messy?" You said, steadying your breathing.

Your hands were fisting his shirt, trying to find some balance between your chest going up and down and your aching core.

"Let's find out." he wasn't drunk because of the whisky anymore, he was drunk because of you. Your smell, your taste, he wanted more.

"I don't want to get fucked on the floor, I'm not eighteen anymore" you said avoiding the embarrassment of being so vocal.

The first time you did what you were about to do, you weren't sure about your decisions, and your senses were lacking direction. Now, the scene was different. You wanted him more than ever.

"Noted," he grabbed you firmly by the back of your thighs and walked you to the bed like if standing up with lifting a body was as easy as lifting a feather.

"I want to be on top," you said when he started to put you under him.

The sudden request caught him by surprise. A good surprise. He couldn't contain the excitement showing on his face.

"Oh, don't let that get over your head, please," you rolled your eyes at him.

"How can I not?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Your wishes are my commands, princess"

He was quick to put you in the same position you two were on the floor. He kissed you this time. Sloppy and slowly. Your hands went up to touch the nape of his neck while his hands grabbed the underside of your breast.

The kissing escalated fast enough that you didn't realize when he was kissing and marking your neck while grabbing your full breast with his left hand.

You wanted to press your tighs together and get rid of your jeans and his. You needed skin to skin contact.

Taking the upper hand on the undressing matter, you latched your neck off his lips and took away your top, leaving your boob in display for him to see.

Bakugo's mouth watered at the sight of them. The first time he had you, he had you underneath him with the lights off. Now he was watching at your body flushed against him right in front of his eyes.

"Shit" he muttered.

"What?" You asked, grabbing his shirt too and urging him take it off. He did.

"Nothing, you are gorgeous, that's all" he said nonchalantly.

You whined and smacked his arm.

"You're gorgeous, that's all," you mimicked him. "You said that like it was nothing, I am fully naked for you, and that's what I get? The only thing you missed was shrugging your shoulders"

He cackled at your dramatic antics and denied it several times before grabbing your lips between his.

"You are more than gorgeous," he muttered against your lips.

"That's better." You smiled and continued kissing him.

It didn't last long before his mouth was over your breast, taking your nipple between his teeth prolonging the ache in your body, you moaned, and he shivered.

The clothes disappeared quickly after that. You were sitting on top of his dick that was hard on your warm core.

He stretched his arm to find something in the drawer. You stopped him mid motion.

"It's fine, we are fine," you said, your fingerpads touching his huge bicep.

"You sure?" He was calm, but on the inside, he was buzzing to the mere chance of taking you raw again. This time fully conscious.

"Yeah, I mean only if you are fine with it, too," you said, and he turned it as a sign to align himself towards your entrance, pushing the tip inside of you. "Shit"

"You okay?" He asked, slowing a bit. You nodded, grabbing his arms that were firmly pressed at your side. "I have to tell you something"

"Yeah, sure, kill the moment"

"Dumbass," he rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smirk. Damn you loved that side of him. "What you heard about me, about my extremely and overwhelming ginormous experiences with girls? Half of them aren't true"

That was something you didn't see coming. You were expecting something less relevant like he was those types of guys who didn't last long.

"What?" You said stopping his sinking a little.

"Yeah, I let the rumors spread because I didn't care about what they said about me. I cared about my friends and no one else, about what they think, I mean " he said, caressing your hair and intertwining his fingers in your locks. "That was until you appeared claiming I had aids or something"

"Don't remind me, please," you tried to cover yourself, but he didn't let you. He wanted you fully exposed at him.

"And just so you know, you are actually the third girl in my life," he said with a playful smile on his face.

"Oh, don't make me feel too special," you joked back at him. "I don't care about what they say either," you mumbled, taking advantage of his state and giving him a slow peck.

The process of not caring about what people said was hard for you. All of this started because you were afraid of being in everyone's mouth because of the naked man in front of you. You didn't care about his body count or about the rumors. You cared about the moment.

After the conversation, he remembered what he was doing before the chat. He sank his member in you, not breaking eye contact in any second. He wanted to see your face, how your brows knitted together, and how your mouth slightly opened.

"Fuck" you said. "I didn't remember it was this big"

That was a boost for his ego and gas to the pedal for him to keep moving. When his dick was situated inside you, Bakugo had to take all his strength to not nut in you.

"Are you ready to-

You interrupted his words with your motions. You started bouncing on his cock the minute you found it comfortable enough. Your knees were deep on his bed, steadying yourself to lift yourself up only to sink down.

"Fuck, princess" he mumbled in the crook of your neck. He started bitting right after that with you moving up and down his member.

You picked up speed, your clit finding the friction it needed to build up the intense wave that threatened to bust.

"You're doing it so good," he purred under your ear, his right hand on your hip moving you and his left hand squeezing your breast. You wished you could talk but the only thing that came out of your mouth were whines and moans.

"Let me hear you," he demanded. His voice gruff and strained.

The same ball of pleasure that you were building on the inside, he was containing it to not spill. He wanted to get you off first, and you weren't so far of his goal.

"Does that feel good?" he said, and you moaned in return. He was moving exactly in the way you wanted it, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that had you curling your toes because of the pleasure. "Use your words, princess"

"Yes," you breathlessly moaned. "Yes, Katsuki, keep going"

The sudden use of his first name got him grabbing you tightly than before. His steady pace evolved in something fast and uncoordinated that had you clenching around him.

"Katsuki, I'm about to -" You moaned through your orgasm, your nails marking his back, and his hands firmly groped at your ass joining your bodies at the point that there wasn't a breeze that could pass through you two.

He spilled his seeds right after you, grunting and going rigid against your arms. You were a sweating mess, and he was, too. Beads of sweat coating at his hairline.

Katsuki watched you trying to calm your breathing while your body still trembled because of the powerful orgasm you two shared.

You sighed in defeat. You were beat.

"Let me take a sip of water, and I'm ready for round two" you whispered.

He laughed against your forehead and left a kiss on it.

"Next time I'll eat you up," he grunted.

You were beat, but not that beat to waste the opportunity.

Katsuki cursed himself on his mind. There wasn't anything to hide anymore. He was genuinely catching feeling for your ass.

(Not proofread yet)

When I said before monday I meant monday, giggles.

End note: Ok, but blame the jackass of my ex-boyfriend for this big fat delay! He's the worst anyway, here it is and babies I have to say that this is getting to an end...there's like one more chapter left :( the great news is that I'm working on something to don't leave you like castaways because I really love your reactions and comments.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

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