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#last life was like. my favorite ever because of how perfect everything wound together and how . idk
crabbunch · 1 year
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BITES BITES BITES IM GOING. IM GOING TO BE SICK
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pagodazz · 8 months
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VINVAN HCS!! that NO ONE ASKED FOR!!!
@freezingmcxn
THESE TWO ARE ABSOLUTELY MY EVERYTHING. like. Absolutely top two favorite characters. I know I talk about Vinnie and HABIT quite a bit but I assure you, I love Evan and Vinnie more.
These two are so perfect for each other and they fit so well, like a puzzle piece clicking together.
They're always gonna be together and there for each other in every single universe. in every single life. It's always gonna be them two. They'll always be the last two to remain.
Their souls are just intertwined together, and they'll always find each other.
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While Vinnie was locked up in the apartment, Evan showed up, and he stayed there for a little while. Vinnie says that Evan stayed on the couch, but I know that is absolutely UNTRUE.
I think Vinnie let Evan inside, instantly checking him over for any wounds, more panicked than excited to see his friend. It would only be when Evan grabs his hands and makes him stop, that'd he finally remember to be relieved that it's Evan he's touching.
Evan would pull him into his arms, hugging him tighter than he EVER has before, pushing his face into his neck, breathing him in. Vinnie is the only thing he has left, the only real thing Evan has and he's so fucking thankful for that. Normally he wouldn't cry, but he's just so happy to see that vinnie is okay.
Vinnie would take a minute to hug back, his mind running too slow for it's own good. But once he had his arms around Evan he's squeezing him in his arms like a snake constricting it's prey.
They'd stand there for way too long, but once they pulled apart Evan would point to Vinnies septum piercing, and Vinnie would get embarrassed, because he knows he seems like the last person to get one, if you didn't know him right.
But Evan would just smile at him and tell him it looks good, that he looks good.
Evan would end up taking a hot shower, and probably end up having to wear some of Vinnie's clothes, and Vinnie would make them both dinner with whatever he had left.
Neither of them would bring up anything of the things they've gone through. It's not that they aren't AWARE. it's just that they both know this is going to be the only time they get to pretend that they have normal lives again.
Then after awhile, Vinnie would catch Evan up on everything, and then Vinnie would offer up the bed and Evan would shake his head and say he'd rather not be alone anymore, and Vinnie couldn't agree more. they would lay in bed holding each other, nothing any more than that happening, and Evan would have his head against Vinnie's chest, counting every beat until he falls asleep, meanwhile Vinnie has his hand in Evans hair, thinking about all his secrets that Evan doesn't know.
He could never tell Evan about the things he's done, he doesn't want Evan to stop loving him, he can't risk that. Evan is all he's ever needed.
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Evan is cis(??? honestly his gender is. not binary but it's not exactly. non binary. HES SO WEIRD.) and bisexual.
Vinnie is FTM and gay/maybe also bi... (I get sad about him and Lexi sometimes) (also YES I'm projecting. I'm ALLOWED)
I think that Evan is alot more open and proud of himself than Vinnie is, he's not like obnoxious over his sexuality of course, but he isn't afraid of it.
Vinnie however gets really in his head over it, Probably having alot to do with his religious trauma (every iteration of Vinnie has it), He'll probably wonder if he's "man" enough, but Evan is always very quick to remind him just how "man" he thinks he Vinnie is.
I think that Evan would give Vinnie his T-shots and he would tell Vinnie to stop being a baby about it and Vinnie would just be gripping onto Evans arm until his knuckles turn white. Evan doesn't mind at all, if anything gives him the perfect opportunity to flex his arms so Vinnie can feel his muscles.
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they YEARN for each other. they are a SLOW BURN GUYS!!!!!
It's only when they're left with just each other that they're forced to deal with their feelings for each other.
and I don't even think that they would talk about their feelings, they'd probably get really frustrated with each other, probably over Evan having yet another suicidal plan, and then Vinnie would just grab Evan and kiss him and the dam holding back their years of forgotten love would just immediately break. they wouldn't even have to say I love you, because this was already enough.
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Evan is Vinnie's muse, he's always filming him and making sure he's the center of attention. Even through Vinnie's eyes Evan is this great hero, even when it's not Evan anymore, and it's HABIT. Vinnie still adores that vessel. Vinnie can play pretend.
Vinnie is Evans all. his everything. his only. his life. especially after he loses everything else. He NEEDS Vinnie, Vinnie has always been there, Vinnie has never lied, Vinnie never lead him astray (even tho that's all Vinnie did), Vinnie always took care of Evan, and Evan wants to do the same.
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IM!!! NOT NORMAL!! OVER THEMMMM.
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deathnguts · 6 months
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My current Roman Empire is my natural headcanon that Sirius is unknowingly exactly like his father.
How can one be that way without knowing? Well, I feel like the Black family dynamic is reliant on Walburga for more proactive abuse while Orion is a bystander. Not an innocent one, mind you, he just prefers to ignore that he even has a family altogether since he never wanted this life and hates his wife and finds his children to be annoying nails in his coffin. He throws himself into work just to have an excuse to be away from them and it works. Sirius probably doesn’t even remember the last time he as much as saw his father, so how could he say he knows him enough to compare himself to him? And in terms of those similarities, I feel like a lot of them aren’t even glaring in their eyes. They’re just completely blind to them because they rarely interact.
Like they look exactly the same, if you went back in time you would just see a more cleaned up Sirius in Slytherin robes roaming the halls of Hogwarts. If the other marauders ever saw Orion their first thought would be ‘Sirius but older.’ And their physical similarities run bone deep. They have the same dramatically annoyed (like everything around them is below them) air about them when forced to do something they don’t want to, their eyes look exactly the same when wielding furious glares that settle within and fester until they explode, when drunk and angry Orion even stands the same as Sirius with his shoulders back and head at the same regally rebellious tilt he’d perfected in his own teen years, they roll their eyes the same way and scoff an identical sound in Walburga’s face when being reminded of their ‘duties,’ and the way they carry themselves when they talk to Regulus with guilt over something or other (reproachful and not willing to apologize but letting speaking to him at all be atonement) gives the youngest Black the same eternally small feeling.
But like neither of them know that at all while that’s all anyone around them can see. Orion’s closer family tease that Sirius is just him a second time (same brooding teenager) and he thinks they’re just insulting him. Walburga is the first to notice they share the tendency to say the same sort of stabbing words when agitated and looking for a fight, and Regulus is the first to notice they wear the same like caniving shit eating grin while wielding their knivish tongues. Regulus had always been more partial to his father when Sirius was away because he could see his favorite person behind the veil of age. Walburga jumped to fight with either and both her husband and oldest sun almost back to back with one another because it’s the same face frowning at her and the same voice biting back at her and she can’t properly control either of them.
And the more tragic half of it all, I mainly mentioned their similarities when angry because Orion is just always angry. He’s always stewing in emotion and never relaxed enough to be happy enough to parallel that side of Sirius. Orion used to be the same angry boy from the same angry house with the same angry parents and grew up with the same stupid duties and the same stupid expectations, but he molded to them eventually. He never got out. He stayed regal and he stayed angry. He never had anyone to pull him out. (There’s the lingering threads wounding into a tragic cloak for Regulus to wear in that.)
There’s no way of knowing how truly tightly the knotted the tie between the father and the son is when the father doesn’t have a smile for the son to mirror. There’s no way for the son to see history repeating within himself when he can’t make out his father well enough to witness their edges blurring together.
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daemonwritesstuff · 3 months
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MATCHUP EXCHANGE WITH @witchthewriter
HOUSE OF THE DRAGON
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DESCRIPTION
I have decided to ship you with… Aemond Targaryen! I think he would love to have someone like you, I believe you would also understand him than anyone else ever has and that’s what he needs. Honestly, after just reading your matchup information by itself it felt right to match you with him.
SPECIES
☆ House Strong
With your looks, it felt right to put you in house strong, with you being from that house it makes everything more interesting.
POWER/ABILITY
☆ Witchcraft
You added in your information that you do witchcraft, and it’s honestly perfect to add this here, you gotten that ability from your mother, Alys Rivers, you can mess with peoples minds and control their emotions.
HEADCANONS
☆ This pairing is just so perfect, when he first met you he was instantly impressed by you, he doesn’t really know why he was impressed, maybe it’s because of how mysterious you come off as.
☆ He loves how passionate you are as a person, including how you have such strong opinions on some things, he thinks your really brave and strong because of that and he likes using you as a guide in life.
☆ He loves how intelligent you are as well! He study’s a lot so I think you guys would spend your time together studying many different things or perhaps learning his mother tongue language, but, if you start to get overwhelmed he will be there for you in an instant, he tries his best to make you feel comfortable and safe.
☆ You would be the person to make him actually laugh, he feels comfortable enough to be himself around you without having to feel judged by his brother. He’s someone who’s gonna stay with you until the end, he’s probably never gonna let you go.
☆ I can see you guys dancing (in private, and in the comfort of your bed chambers) to classical music. Even though you already have pets, he’s willing to buy you as many as you like to see you happy, he’ll do whatever it takes to see you smile.
☆ You guys also take baths together a lot, he loves feeling your warmth on him and he never wants to leave it because your warmth feels like home to him. And if there are any spiders he will kill it right away, he’ll try to get rid of any insects in the household so you don’t get freaked out.
Songs (romantic)
☆ ハルカ — YOASOBI
☆ Rainy Tapestry — Lamp
☆ Hi, Bye Goodnight — DANIEL
Relationship Tropes
☆ who loves the sky (you) x “ur my best view” (aemond)
☆ flirty (you) x awkwardly flustered (aemond)
☆ gives compliments (you) x doesn’t know how to react (aemond)
Plot Troupes
☆ strangers to lovers
☆ love at first sight
☆ unexpected love
Their Favorite Thing About You
Aemonds favorite thing about you would have to be how you always stand up for yourself no matter what you might’ve done, he’ll always adore you for that.
Your best friend
Helaena is your best friend! When she met you she also found you very intriguing! She just had to get to know you more, she is so sweet to you, you guys are always talking about what you like while she’s sewing something, I think you would be very caring towards her and it would make her feel very loved.
Which character your most like
I think your a mix of like Alys Rivers, Jacaerys Velaryon and Baela Targaryen. But I think your like Alys more due to her powers and how she acts as well, you guys are so similar in so many ways.
Your pet
Stormcloud is the dragon you have claimed! Aegon III Targaryen being the last (I believe the last?) to have the dragon after you. You found him very wounded somewhere in the middle of nowhere, he was very hesitant to have people near him but he was really in pain and you decided to help him out, and after helping him out he never wanted to leave your side, that’s when you realized that you bonded with the dragon.
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whatanoof · 3 years
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A Push in the Right Direction
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Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader
Word Count: ~7.6k
Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, sex pollen so by default it's dubcon, pining
Summary: Healing injured patients? Psh, easy stuff. Force healing? A little more tricky. Confessing your crush to your very close friend? Damn near impossible until a flower bush shoves you in the right direction.
A/N: Happy birthday my friend @marvelassassin221b!! I hope you are staying safe, and that your birthday will bring happiness and wisdom to your life. It's been a blessing talking to you and laughing at memes together <3 Thank you for giving me the push to get this fic done and posted, I couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy some of our favorite redhead Jedi ;)
You’ve always been terrible with directions. Like, it’s a miracle you haven’t gotten lost in more dangerous settings, but even your Jedi Master used to shake their head when you had survival exercises in your Padawan years. Greez too, makes comments about how atrocious you are at navigation. You hadn’t been allowed back to the holomap since a disastrous set of directions landed the Mantis on the more unfriendly side of the Outer Rim.
But even with all of your shortcomings at mapping, you have a solid crisis mode. You need to have one as a medic. It’s not a good idea to freeze when a patient is bleeding out on the ground in front of you, there is only one way that is going to end, and it’s not going to be a happy ending. Under pressure, all of the unsureness that surfaces during your attempts at navigation vanishes, and your body is moving before your mind even consciously thinks to. It’s your zen mode, almost your place of meditation, where you give into the inner instinct and allow the Force to guide you through the process. Too bad you can’t reach that state in any situation other than emergencies, maybe you would be able to navigate your moves in confessing a crush.
You had met Cal Kestis on Bracca. He’d cut his hand open on a jagged edge of wall paneling, and Prauf brought him to you, one of the few healers among the scrappers. You couldn’t tell what exactly it was that gave him away to you, but the instant his eyes met yours, you knew where he had come from.
Of course, you waited until Prauf had gone back to work to reveal yourself. Healing through the Force decreases the chance of infection, is painless, and is essentially instantaneous. While your normal supplies would have done the trick, the drama queen in you realized this would be the perfect way to show Cal he wasn’t alone. Force healing is tricky, but you’d had a surprising knack for it ever since your youngling years. The Order had trained you up in the way of Force healing and given you the tools to take advantage of your aptitudes. Cal’s face had been priceless when you simply waved your hand over his, and the wound closed within seconds.
There was a certain comfort in knowing you weren’t alone. Admittedly, in the long years after the Purge, you’d toyed with the idea that you had been the only Jedi to escape. Those had been dark days, where you could barely scrape together the energy to forage for food and water, laughing that the Jedi Order would die with a single Padawan who had lost her lightsaber along with everything she had known.
But then Cal stumbled into your little cordoned off area. You’d become close friends from that moment to the day Prauf died and the Ninth Sister shoved you both off of the cliff and onto the freight train below. The Mantis crew was surprised, to say the least. They had gotten reports of a single Jedi wreaking havoc on Bracca. But they welcomed you aboard and you had become the team medic, patching up Cal when he got back from missions and finding time in between to try and recover the Force abilities you had lost to time.
---
“Hey.” You look up from your work. Medical supplies lie strewn across the floor of your part of the room, bandages unwound and your meager supply of medication stacked methodically in the corner.
Cal looks down at you from the doorway, a streak of something across his cheekbone. You want to wipe it off, but you just smile back, “Welcome back. Find anything cool?”
His happy grin only widens, “You’ll have to come and find out.”
“What?”
He beckons you towards the main hull, “Come on!”
Cere and Greez are already there and seated around the meal table, and BD is perched on the table, chirruping animatedly as if talking to Cere. You take your place with them, noting the empty chair to your right. Merrin is back on Dathomir, searching for ancient texts about Nightsister magic and rituals. She’s been gone for several days, but you still find yourself seeking out her snarky comments and cool confidence.
“Okay.” Cal stands at the head of the table, rubbing his hands together in a way that makes him seem as if he is playing the adult. “I’m willing to bet you're all wondering why I’ve called you here today…”
“Spit it out Cal, you woke me up from a nap for this.” Greez eyes the redhead grumpily, and you fight to hide a grin. Cere also looks mildly amused, if slightly impatient.
Cal rolls his eyes, but continues, “Cordova left a message, saying something very valuable to our quest is locked in a vault in the Zeffo caves. I found the vault today and it matches Cordova’s description, but we need two Force users to access it.” He nudges BD, and the little droid projects an image of the vault door. It’s massive, with gold decorations swirling across it, and two obvious indents in the ground on either side for said Force users.
Everyone’s gazes flit to Merrin’s empty chair. It’s without question she would have been the best fit for this mission. Her combat style complements Cal’s perfectly, and Cere is still hesitant to use the Force.
Realization strikes you, and you glance up to see everyone’s eyes are now trained on you. You begin to shake your head. “That’s a bad idea--”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll lead us directly to the vault. I have my saber, and you have your Force healing. Worst case scenario, you have to patch me up in the field.” That is definitely not the worst case scenario, but there are no other options. This mission is time-sensitive, and you can’t wait for Merrin to get back from Dathomir.
You fix him with a stern glare. “I will come. But--” You hold up a hand when Cal opens his mouth. “You have to stick with me. No disappearing and popping out to scare me, because I will get lost We go in, and we get out.“
“I wouldn--” Cal protests.
“You would.” You snap.
“Yeah, he would.” Cere agrees.
“Sounds like something you would do.” Greez nods.
BD beeps cheerily from its place in the center of the table, clearly in agreement with you.
Cal shuts his mouth with an audible pop, and you cross your arms while staring him down. Yes he would.
“I need BD back here on the ship. I’m running diagnostics on the navigation programming, and I can’t do it alone.” Cere speaks up.
Cal hesitates. You understand; he never goes on missions without BD. The two are a package deal, but everything needs to be running at peak efficiency before you go to the Fort Inquisitorius. And there’s no way you’re willing to deal with a navigation error en route.
You speak up, “Yeah, it will be fine.”
Cal looks at you, “We need BD to unlock a shortcut. What happened to in and out?”
You wave him off, “We’ll take the scenic route. Cere needs BD back here, and we can manage without. We’ll have our comm units, it will be fine.”
---
Do you know that saying, “Famous last words?”
Yeah. You hadn’t realized just how famous those last words could be. It started when Cal realized he’d left his comm unit on the ship in the charging port. But it was fine, because you had yours. Until you dropped it into a puddle after tripping over a tree root.
The scenic route involved passing through the outskirts of a forest, and the terrain was a little trickier than you had been prepared to handle, obviously. So, commless and armed with a single lightsaber and two shared brain cells, you travel towards the entrance to the Zeffo caves.
A flower bush catches your eye. Its leaves are a shocking shade of red, with gorgeous blue flowers that seem to call you over to them. Cal keeps walking even as you stop and reach for the bush. You pluck the flower in the fullest bloom and turn it over in your hand, admiring the veins of deeper azure spider webbing across the petals.
Cal says your name behind you, “We have to keep moving if we’re going to get back before dark.”
Turning to face your companion, you tuck the blossom behind his ear and step back to admire how the blue contrasts against his hair. The word slips out almost without you noticing. “Cute.”
It’s almost comical how quickly his face blooms red. “Guh--”
“It’s a good look.” You reassure him quickly. “Adorable. Pretty. Cute.”
“--Thanks!” He ducks past you to the bush. “I’m just going to grab a seedling for Greez. He’ll like this one.” Cal grabs one of the large pods and breaks it open, removing a seed and sticking it into the pouch on his harness. “Okay, ready.”
But you’re distracted by the red pollen that explodes in a cloud around his head, dusting him with a fine mist that leaves scarlet traces on his face and shoulders. “What’s that?” You step forward and run a finger across Cal’s poncho, collecting the dust and rubbing it between your fingertips. You hesitate, then raise your hand to your face to smell the substance. The sickly sweet scent and underlying current of spicy musk sticks in your lungs. The back of your throat tickles, and you sneeze.
An echoing sneeze draws your attention. Cal leans against the flowering bush, one arm clamped over his nose as he sneezes over and over again. He glances up at you, coughing with watery eyes, “Wha--”
A spike of dread pierces through you. ‘Stars, was it poison?’ He won’t stop coughing, a dry rattle as his body tries in vain to purge the intruding red dust. You fall to your knees beside him. Panic fills your mind, blotting out logic and reason and you place your hands on his body, intent on Force healing him even though you don’t know what is wrong with him. Then, just as suddenly as the coughing started, it stops and silence rings through the trees.
“Cal!”
You're shoving your hand underneath his poncho in an instant to feel for his heartbeat. You hold your breath. You can’t feel a pulse. You scramble to rip his poncho off completely, dragging it over his limp shoulders and head. You shove your fingers against his throat again. There!
His heartbeat flutters delicately, beating a rapid tattoo against your fingertips. You allow yourself to breath. He’s alive. But his pulse is fast, too fast. You rip open his tunic, though you’re not entirely certain what it is you’re searching for.
Just as your fingers brush over his skin, Cal bolts upright with a gasp. “Wh-- where...?”
You swear you almost pass out from the relief that slaps you across the face. “Stars, I thought you were dead. I’m so sorry about the flower bu-- mmm!”
Cal smashes his lips onto yours, pushing you onto your back with the sheer force of the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, searching and probing and damnit you can’t breathe when he’s this close to you, this desperate. His hips jerk against yours with an unpracticed, aborted motion, dragging a very prominent erection against your body that makes you jerk back in surprise.
You push him away from him for a second, propping yourself up on your elbows as you search his face for some indication of… you don’t know what. But this isn’t like him. “Cal, what--?”
“Need you.” He groans, his hands roaming over your body without fear or shame and inspiring a wave of pleasure as he squeezes your breasts. “Maker, you feel so good. Smell so good.” You bite back a moan. This really isn’t the time, not in the middle of an Imperial occupied forest. But to be completely honest, he feels really good too.
You’d imagined this before. Well, not these exact circumstances, but the idea of being under Cal. You’d imagined the feeling of his hands scraping over your skin and squeezing your body wherever he would like. You’d imagined his lips on yours, and other places for sure. But you’d really only ever been able to envision Cal as a gentle lover, all quiet moans and hesitant movements and unsure expressions. But this rougher side? You moan raggedly against Cal’s mouth as he shoves a thigh between your legs, rubbing up against your clothed sex. This is amazing.
Streaks of heat flash through your body, converging between your legs. Everything is amplified, the sounds around you, the grass beneath your knees, the blueness of the sky overhead. But it all seems to pale when your attention lands on Cal, who’s more flushed than earlier. You feel the heat beneath your skin too, but he’s got to have it worse right now, because you’re not the one sweating like you’re stranded on a desert planet. Maker, the pollen was some kind of--
His name escapes your lips in a tiny whisper that morphs into a moan halfway through. You allow your head to fall back, and it thunks against the spongy moss across the ground, knocking you back to the present. Cal’s lost in you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he ruts weakly against your thigh.
You shake off the haze clouding your mind, crisis mode kicking into full gear. You have no comms, one horny Jedi, and a completely hopeless sense of direction. “Cal. We have to move.”
He whines high in the back of his throat. “No.” It’s almost pleading, but there is an undercurrent of steel that makes you pause.
“Cal. We’re out in the open. Troopers co-- could--” Stars, you can feel the lust pumping under your skin, so close to the surface that it could burst out at any second. But fear hovers on the edge of your mind, pressing in and suppressing the need to jump Cal and reminding you of the certain torture and death that would occur if you were caught.
Cal doesn’t seem to have any of the same restraints as you. His fingers are carding through your hair, “Just wanna feel you. Maybe more.” His teeth latch into your neck, and the dull pain pierces through the haze more firmly.
He got dosed more heavily with the pollen. You resist the urge to curse as you gently detangle from Cal and sit up, biting back a sigh of relief as his teeth leave your skin. “We have to find shelter.” You begin to look around, but all you can see is the forest. You need something better, a place where you can figure out what exactly is wrong with Cal. You try to stand.
“Noooo…” This isn’t going to work. You actually do curse this time. How are you supposed to find effective shelter while dragging a full grown man around hostile territory without compromising stealth, all while your libido is cottoning to the edge of your mind, clouding your judgment?
“Come here…” Cal’s arm wraps around your neck, dragging you back down to the ground even as you try to stand. Okay that’s enough.
“You’ll forgive me later, Cal.” You press your thumb to his forehead and concentrate. His skin is dry and burning to your touch, and your brow scrunches. That’s going to be an issue. You reach to tap into the Force, but you pause. Your Force connection is… foggy. That’s the only way you can describe it in words, but it’s muted and dimmer than usual.
Your Jedi Master taught you a metaphor for using the Force: a barrier exists between you and access to the Force. It’s a wall, and your mind must become like a sharpened sword to pierce through and reach the Force. You can feel the barrier, just as always, but it’s like a second layer exists around it. If the normal barrier is made of thin glass, the new layer is crafted from paper; it’s strange, and thicker than usual, but still easily pierced with extra… force if you can say that without making yourself laugh at the pun. You summon the strength and press your mental sword forward through the barrier.
Rest. Cal’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls asleep with a gentle exhale. He relaxes against you, and you relax in turn when you see the pained lines smooth out of his forehead. Jedi healing includes your own personal anesthesia on demand. It will keep him under for a little bit, though you can’t tell what kind of effect the pollen will have on the Force sleep.
Through some feat of the stars themselves, you struggle to your feet. Cal’s arm is looped around your neck, and you want nothing more than to just sink down to the ground again and give into the weakness and lust pulling at your legs, coaxing you to collapse and take your pleasure. And stars, Cal’s heavier than you expected him to be.
But you shake yourself awake. Can’t get distracted. You glance at Cal’s drooping head. He’s been strong for you this entire time. The least you can do is be strong now and find some shelter. But where?
Voices filter through the trees, and your head jerks up towards the sources.
“Yeah, she told me to take the bucket off, or she would charge the full payment and…” Stormtroopers. Kriffing hell.
“Come on.” You hiss underneath your breath. You gather your legs underneath your body and push. Your muscles scream in pain, but they ultimately obey and you stumble to your feet and begin to move away from the approaching voices. Cal is dead weight over your shoulders, pulling and urging you to rest. It would be so easy to give in, to sink back to the ground and let Cal do what he wants.
The trees blur together as you move through the forest. The stormtroopers’ voices are getting louder and you grit your teeth. You don’t know their patrol route. How are you going to avoid them? All you can do is place one foot in front of the other. Then the mossy ground turns to stone underneath your feet, and you slow. Caves. Perfect.
You hurry inside, fatigued legs forgotten in your relief. There’s a bend directly beyond the mouth of the cave, and you gently lay Cal against the wall. You’re completely hidden from anyone looking from the entrance. You sit opposite him, your head falling forward to sag against your chest. Now what?
Your comm unit is busted, and Cal’s is sitting back on the Mantis, so you can’t contact the crew. You hold a hand to Cal’s forehead. His temperature is getting worse. You don’t know what infected him, so your Force healing is out of the question. The only bright spot is you’re pretty sure the stormtroopers won’t find you. They’re not exactly recruited for their brains, and you’ll be able to sense their muted Force signatures if they get close.
Speaking of…
You trail off, contemplating Cal’s unconscious face. His head sags against the rock wall and there’s a line of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His brow is finally relaxed, his breathing deep and even and it strikes you that this is the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.
You reach out through the Force. It has become a habit for you, Merrin, and Cal to find peace in each others’ Force signature. Whether nightmares or difficult missions, the others would be there as a silent comfort.
Merrin’s is a mixture of whites and creams swirling against a dark maroon background. When she uses her Force magic, there is an unmistakable green tinge through it. Hers is powerful, with a sense of underlying safety in her strength. True to form, Merrin has been a protector figure in the Mantis.
But Cal’s is more diverse, a blend of warm colors against a grey background with blue tinging the edge. But while the colors are chaotic, Cal keeps a firm hold on his Force presence at all times, never allowing it to surge violently from emotion. He does not suppress it completely anymore, but you know he has the ability to make it nearly disappear from the senses of another Force user. You should know, because you can do the same. Merrin grew up without fear of having to hide her Force sensitivity, but you and Cal survived the Purge. You both have firm grasps of your thoughts and emotions projected through the Force. So in Cal, you found a kindred spirit that understands you better than almost any other person in the galaxy could. You’ve become more familiar with his presence than even your Master’s before the Purge.
But now, your brow furrows as you search for his Force presence over and over, pushing into every crevice of the surrounding environment without violating his privacy. You’re not mistaken. It’s gone, almost as if he has been turned into a droid before your eyes. Every living thing has a Force presence, no matter how minute. But Cal’s comforting whirl of light is gone, vanished as though he is no longer connected to the--
Cal’s eyes fly open and he sits forward with a quiet gasp. You jump. It’s worn off then. You secure his body with the Force, holding him loosely so as not to cause any lasting damage. You would have to tackle the Force connection problems later.
“I need you to focus.” He pushes against the bonds with a whimper, and you bite your lip as you struggle to hold him still.
“Cal!” Your Force bind tightens, and he stills with a grunt. “Talk to me. Fight through it.”
He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. “Hurts.”
“What hurts?”
“Every-- ah! Everything. Can’t-- can’t th-think. Only thing-- makes it better… you.”
What? Your concentration lapses and the bonds loose. He lunges forward and buries his nose into your neck again, inhaling you as his hands scrabble at your clothes. “Hurts less with you. Smell so good--soft. Please?”
Stars, you can’t think straight with him touching you like this. You bite back a moan as his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your shirt. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to give in. Just for a little. Indulge, and then you can figure out a way back to the Mantis. Then Cal raises your shirt and licks a long stripe up your neck, and that’s all the convincing you need.
You melt into his mouth, your hands running under his shirt and harness. His chest is just as feverishly hot as his forehead, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he swings a leg over yours so he’s hovering over you, knees planted on either side of your body. His hands shove your shirt over your head before setting to work on the button of your pants. You raise your hips to allow him to pull your pants under your butt. Your own hands yank at his clothes, silently begging him to strip with you.
But he doesn’t. He kneels between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your wet folds.
“Cal--!” You’re cut off as he drags his tongue over your pussy, flicking against your clit at the end. Your stomach muscles contract, and it’s all you can do to keep quiet as he licks deep into your core.
---
The world is blurred. It’s like something crawled into his head and messed with his brain, dragging his focus away from more important issues… he can’t seem to remember right now. He can’t even feel the Force. His connection is compromised, the colors of the world are off, and there’s this bone deep ache within his body urging him closer to you. And as he’s drinking in your taste, the pain subsides and he can breathe again.
What is this? What’s happening to him? It has to be the pollen, it has to be its effect on his body, that’s why he’s lost all control over his mind and self. It’s why he can’t hold himself back from your body and you.
You’re all he can focus on; you’re so beautiful writhing under him as he tastes you. He’s never done this before. He can’t figure out why he hasn’t done this sooner, because you taste amazing right now and how you sound as he slides his tongue through your folds is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before.
His hips are dragging against the floor unintentionally. The friction of his dick against the rough material of his pants is a small slice of heaven, and he whimpers at the pure electricity spreading down his spine. He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but his body is shoving him towards the edge of release and the relief he knows is going to come with it.
---
A moan keens high in the back of your throat as Cal’s mouth presses against your soaked core. It’s sloppy and clumsy, but Maker if he doesn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. The only sounds coming from him are tiny moans and grunts and you shudder as his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, leveraging them apart and holding them there firmly. Of their own will, your hips roll up into his face, chasing after his touch.
You’re completely unprepared for Cal to growl when you do so. His grip tightens, and you squeak as your thighs are spread even farther apart and his mouth completely envelopes your clit.
Is this what heaven feels like? You can barely manage coherent thought when his tongue is devastating you like this, but thequestion rotates around your lust dumb brain as your toes curl and your back arches. Your release rushes up and sweeps you away, your core clenching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. You hear Cal whine as you cum, and you hear your own moans as you ride out your orgasm.
---
Stars, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The sounds that he’s pulling out of you right now could make him come in his pants on the spot, and the taste of your release has him rutting against the ground all the more insistently as he chases his own high.
But he doesn’t want to come in his pants, he wants to be inside of you. He wants you, your body squeezing tight around him, to feel the wetness seeping around his tongue rather than tasting it, even if it tastes divine.
He grabs your hips and yanks you down so your crotch is flush to his. He nearly loses his mind when your soaked core meets the bulge in his pants. Fuck, he thought he could wait, but he can’t.
But--something is still off with the world’s coloring. Where is the Force? The comforting pressure is gone from the back of his mind, the constant reminder of balance that keeps him in tune with his emotions and surroundings. Panic edges around the perimeter of his mind. In an act of desperation, he reaches for the Force, searching for the whispers of memories that accompany his world. They’re gone. Where did they go?
You whisper his name again, and this time his eyes meet yours.
---
You watch Cal carefully. He’s flushed, trembling as he hovers over your body, hands bare centimeters away from your skin. His eyes are desperate, and you can feel the pain in them as clearly as if it was your own. A bead of sweat tracks down his temple to soak into the collar of his harness, and he fumbles to rip the rest of his clothing off, discarding it on the floor as though it burned against his flesh.
“Cal.” He looks back at you. “Take what you need.”
It’s all the permission he needs. Relief and something else flashes through his eyes before he looks back down and fumbles with his pants fastening. His cock is flushed dark red, and his hands tremble as he pulls it out of his pants, jaw clenched as he lines up with your entrance. He slides into you with a bone-deep sigh of relief, and you cry out at the stretch. Every inch sparks pure electricity up your spine, and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out, and for a heart stopping moment you feel a connection to him you couldn’t describe in words. Your hips roll against his, grinding the head of his cock up against something heavenly. Light explodes behind your eyes at the movement, arching your back and curling your toes.
Cal chokes, a beautiful sound you’ve only heard a few times before; the one that sounds like its been pulled from the deepest parts of his being, like he’s just ascended to another plane above the physical. It’s gorgeous and so insanely hot you’re completely unprepared for his sudden movement when he lunges forward.
Cal’s hand shoots out and presses against your neck, effectively pinning your upper body to the hard ground. You inhale shakily through your nose, but his grip does nothing more than hold you. You can still breathe, but the pressure on your throat sends a shock of heat between your legs with the reminder of the control you just relinquished.
“Stop that.” His other arm slams onto the stone beside your head, and your eyes lock. Cal’s pupils are blown, so dark you can almost see your reflection in the dim light of the cave as he glares down at you.
He doesn’t give you time to respond before he drags his hips away from yours, inch by painstaking inch and rocks back into your body with an easy roll of his hips. He exhales gently as he bottoms back out inside of you, a low moan rumbling out of his throat when he reaches that same depth within your heat.
It’s the eye of a storm; a hurricane you hadn’t known you’d entered. He rocks back and forth again, only there’s fractionally more force and speed to the motion this time. Again, and your body shakes with the force. Another, and you have to bite your lip to stifle the scream when he slams back into your body. It’s like the tide, coming in gradually, but more and more with each passing moment. The force swells, each thrust pushing into you a little harder and making your body shake a little more with each thrust.
A shuddering groan rumbles out of him as he finds the rhythm. The hand not pressed delicately around your throat slams down on the rock next to your head. When you look up towards the cave ceiling, Cal’s flushed skin and tousled hair fills your vision.
His hair, which is usually swept out of his eyes. Cal’s hair has always been so well cared for, usually brushed and slicked back so it doesn’t dangle in his eyes. Now, it’s soaked with sweat and falling into his face as he stares down at you like you’re the only star in the sky.
---
Take what you need? Holy stars, he can barely think enough to comprehend it, but some inner part of him aches at the sentence.
As soon as he realized his heart jumped every time you smiled at something, or that his brain short circuited at the sound of your laugh, he’d sworn he would keep it under wraps. He’d promised himself he would wait until after the galaxy finishes imploding and collapsing around your heads. The first time he’d jerked off to the idea of your body, he vowed to satisfy himself with his hand until it was safe. He’d wait until after the holocron is safe and there’s nothing to worry about, because relationships are messy and complicated and--
Fuck, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that promise, because how can he regret being balls deep in you while you’re whining and squirming underneath him, when you look at him with such trust even as he pins you to the floor by your throat? His eyes gravitate to the mark on your neck, red and irritated with the indent of his teeth, and he feels his cock twitch even as he continues to pound into you. He likes that.
The promise didn’t keep his eyes from wandering to your face at any opportunity. It didn’t prevent the pressure in his chest from growing over the weeks and months. It definitely didn’t keep Cere and Greez from noticing, and that was a conversation he would rather have scrubbed from his mind.
Take what you need. That one sentence is spinning his world on its metaphorical finger. Take what you need. As if he didn’t want it, but he needed to do it. In all honesty, it had really felt like he was going to die. The burning in his throat that caused the coughing fit, then the racing heart and the overheating; he thought he wasn’t going to make it unless he--
Well, unless he fucked you.
But even if he needs it, he wants it even more, had wanted it for too long. But everytime an opportunity presented itself, he pulled back. He remembers how he threw away the flowers he gathered on the mission instead of bringing them back to you on the Mantis. He remembers every time he denied spending time with you, because his emotions were too raw and close to the surface, and he couldn’t predict his control over his own tongue. Because he didn’t think he could have handled it if you didn’t want him back.
But you had offered to help. Maybe you’d wanted it too, because the whole galaxy could be shoving you in one direction and you would defy it. Nothing can make you do anything you didn’t want to, and that applies to Cal Kestis too.
---
Your orgasm swells up sharp and sudden, gripping you in its claws and shoving you into the attack of muscle spasms and searing pleasure that punches into your abdomen. Your body arches, accidentally hitting your head against the ground.
Cal’s rhythm stutters and his hips jerk forward. His hand leaves your throat as he drops to his forearms. His head drops down to press against yours gently, even as he whimpers and continues to grind forward into your soaking heat.
“Fuck.” Cal gasps, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.”
There’s no time to respond before he’s drawing up and tensing against you. His hips piston in and out once, then he’s cumming and all you can do is lie there and take it. Fuck that’s hot.
You can feel him spilling into you, every warm spurt of cum and every twitch of his cock as he spends himself. Even better is the drawn out groan that trails into his upper register, ending in a tiny whimper. The tension drains out of his face and he sags down, sweaty skin pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your body and he hoists your limp body up as he rolls over. He sits against the wall of the cave, seating you on his lap, cock still firmly buried inside you.
You allow your head to sag back against his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to yours. His hand paws weakly at the fabric of your shirt, and you raise your arms to slide it off. It’s better like this, skin to skin contact seems to calm him down. He buries his nose into your bare neck and mumbles something you can’t make out.
You nudge your head against his gently, “Hm?”
“Thank you.” His lips ghost over the delicate juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Thank you thank you thank you...” He continues to mutter the phrase into your skin, tickling your skin as he nuzzles closer to you.
You should say something. Confess, maybe, everything you’ve been hiding. “Cal, I--” You shift slightly, and something feels off. You furrow your brow and glance downwards at your joining point, “Cal are you still hard?”
He props his chin on your shoulder. “Uh--” He thrusts shallowly up into you, and you stifle a whimper. “Ye-yeah. Sorry?”
“N--” You gasp as his cock twitches. “No. Don’t be sorry. Do you need to go again?” Arousal stirs in your core again, burning a slow path through your nerves and reigniting the flames that had dulled to embers. Your breath catches in your chest and you grind your hips back into his.
“I--I think so.” His voice is strained and his breath comes in short gasps next to your ear. “Not-- not as-- as bad though.”
“That--ah!” Cal chooses that exact moment to pick a spot on your neck and latch on. He nips at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands, roughened with callouses from his saber, climbing, and tinkering, scrape over your skin with just the right amount of friction. You bite your bottom lip. “That’s fine. Should I move?”
His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place. That’s a no then. His hips rock up into yours gently, and you feel your cheeks warm at the wet sounds of your combined release. Cal grunts, “Let me.”
So you do. You lie back against his bare chest and just take what he gives you, whimpering whenever he brushes against that spot inside you that sends electricity up your spine. You’re gripping his arms so hard you’re sure he’s going to have bruises in the shape of your fingers.
---
Stars, you’re fucking perfect. Just lying here and giving yourself to him. He can feel the Force dimly, but it’s there. The pollen is leaving his system as he slowly fucks you on a cave floor in the middle of a dense forest while stormtroopers patrol outside.
You cry out with his next thrust, the head of his cock striking something inside of you that must feel good because you clench around him and--
Did you just come again?
The additional lubrication only increases the lewd squelch with every thrust, the mixture of his cum and yours only making sliding in and out of your channel easier. He can still feel the effects of the pollen at the back of his mind, and it keeps him hard and sensitive as he continues to fuck you.
He’s aware he should be at least a little worried about the implications, starting at the top with how he’s going to complete the mission and ending with what exactly fucking on a cave floor means for your relationship. Somewhere in the middle is the stormtroopers and the pollen, and the oath of the Jedi Order forbidding relationships. But he can’t grasp it.
Even if there are more pressing concerns, all he can do right now is continue pushing his hips up into your soaking core painstakingly slowly. He wants to enjoy this while he can, while he’s able to fool himself that you want him back. Unless…
---
The only solace you could find in the situation was that you could have Cal, even for these few short moments. Because as much as you may want to convince yourself, a tiny voice inside your head keeps whispering: it’s all the pollen. That’s the only reason why he wants you. And you force yourself to believe the voice, because it’s easier to block off any chance for pain and rejection.
But you know you’re in trouble the second Cal opens his mouth. The words are a harsh whisper, rasping out of his dry throat into your ear, “Beautiful. So gorgeous, giving me what I need, what I want.”
You arch against him and stifle the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His mouth is right next to your ear, so there isn’t anywhere for you to escape from the words that rumble into your brain; words you try to convince yourself are empty. You shove your hand against your mouth rather than allow any sound to escape.
He moans, “Want to do this again. Don’t want this to be just once.”
“Th--that--that’s the pollen talking.” You gasp when you feel his fingers graze over your clit, your own hand drifting back to latch into his hair.
Cal hisses when you tug with a little more strength than necessary, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. One hand supports your weight as he moves you up and down on his dick, the other rubbing little circles around your clit. His hips make up for the lost strength everytime they drive up into you at the lowest point of the rhythm, squelching with every thrust.
“Not--not the pollen. All you. All me.”
You blink, all temporarily forgotten when the words register in your hazy mind. “...What?”
“Wanted this. Wanted this for a while.” Cal finds your clit with his fingers, and you can’t prevent the way your legs jerk and your body seizes against his.
Fuck you’re going to cum. If the first orgasm was a flashfire, this one is a slowly simmering blaze. It creeps up slowly, burning a hole through your abdomen, curling around your ribs and inching down your legs. Your eyes roll back, and your head falls back against Cal’s shoulder.
“Cal. I--I thi--” You try to warn him, you really do. But words aren’t forming correctly right now, and it’s all you can do to hunker down and try to prepare yourself for this truly devastating crest that’s preparing to launch you over the edge.
If Cal gets your warning, he doesn’t show it. All he does is turn his head to the side, press a light kiss to your cheek, and groan, “I think I love you.”
Oh shit. Cal’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he planned it. Before you can respond, hell, before you can even begin to fucking process that last sentence, you’re coming hard. Maybe it’s the whiff of pollen you got earlier, or the fact that Cal is the one fucking you so sweetly and thoroughly, or the thrill of being mere steps away from discovery, or a combination of all of it, but this orgasm certainly feels like the most intense of your life.
Spasms ripple outward through your belly, curling you up in Cal’s lap as you ride out your high. Your legs straighten and your toes curl and you clamp down hard around Cal’s cock.
Cal shouts raggedly in your ear, pulling your body close. But even as you whimper and shake on the end of his cock, you remember that you can’t make too much sound.
As if he heard you, Cal burrows his face into your shoulder, his teeth once again finding a place in your skin to muffle his voice as he cums deep inside you once more. His body shakes as he spends himself again, the spasms slowly subsiding with every jerk of his hips into yours.
‘I did hear you.’ There’s a tinge of amusement to the nonexistent voice that echoes in your mind, and you relax back against Cal.
‘Feeling better?’ You nudge him back through the Force, revelling in the feeling of his colorful presence swirling around you once again. The pollen has worn off.
He doesn’t say anything in response, only pulls you close with his arms around you. His mind pushes at yours, and you let him in. You’ve done this a million times, usually on the tail end of nighttime panic attacks, but this time is different. This is the most loose he has ever been with his Force presence, and you allow it to fill the empty parts of your mind. Wait, he loves you?
He rushes over you in the same way the tide comes back to land, calming your fear at finally understanding the weight of his last confession. He’s relaxed, and the familiar energy has a new angle to it, a new emotion you hadn’t felt before in another’s Force signature. You grasp it gently, turning it over and admiring it in the eye of your mind. What is it?
The answer rushes to you just as Cal mutters against your skin, “Love.” The same thing you’d been feeling in the pit of your heart every time you looked at Cal, everytime he kept you safe from the nightmares in his arms and stayed with you until morning, every time you made him tea and did maintenance on his gear after a tough mission.
“I love you.”
You blink up at the ceiling of the rock cave, mouth open with the words just on the tip of your tongue. But they won’t come. The words are stuck in your throat, and try as you might, you can’t make yourself say them.
“Hey.” Cal whispers in your ear, and you shut your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. But you know that I do, and I know a little of what’s going on up here.” His finger taps the side of your head lightly. "You don't have to figure out where to go from here. I'll navigate."
‘Thank you.’ You send the words through the Force, and he acknowledges them. Yeah, you're shit at knowing where to go when it comes to feelings. But at least with Cal, you won't have to worry about getting lost alone. You sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before a thought occurs to you.
“Cal.” His name is little more than a weak rasp off your tongue. You clear your throat and try again. “Cal.”
He grunts unintelligibly.
“Don’t bring that seed back to the Mantis.”
A/N: I will be the first to admit that this fic was hard, because I wanted to incorporate some previous feelings into this to make it less dubcon, and I didn't feel that all plot holes were filled. But that didn't make this any less enjoyable for me, and it was fun to explore a new facet of Cal's character.
Thanks for everyone who gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pushing this through the old brain up here. Smut isn't the easiest for me:)
Taglist: @alliterative-albatross
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babyboibucky · 4 years
Text
Obvious
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.
Word Count: 1,700
Warnings: slight angst??? mention of injury???
A/N: Inspired by Ariana Grande’s “obvious” because I fucking love that song lmfao. Let me know if anyone wants to be included in my Bucky Barnes tag list! Will do separate tag lists for everything Bucky and Babysitting Bucky. Feedback is highly appreciated!
MAIN MASTERLIST
---
You and Bucky weren’t lovers, no. But you were definitely not just friends either.
There were kisses early in the morning, while both of you were cuddled in bed basking in the warmth of the sunlight spilling through the thin curtains; soft and subtle touches in the afternoon as the two of you navigated through the kitchen in an attempt to bake together. Slow touches late at night, cold metal fingers grazing you in just the right places that made you feel like on fire. And the exchange of whispers in the wee hours of night after coming down from the high of exploring each other’s bodies, uttered so softly, words meant only for each other to hear.
More than friends indeed, less than lovers? Maybe. Maybe not. Does it matter though? Because even without the words of affirmation, you loved Bucky and was sure that he loved you just as much.
Besides, you were obviously head over heels for the soldier. Not that you were denying or hiding it, in fact, you felt like you showed it a tad bit too much.
“Leaving so soon, soldier?” You’d asked with a pout as you watched Bucky leave your side on the bed.
“Duty calls.” He told you as he began to dress up.
Noticing your frown, he chuckled and approached you on the bed, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassured you, smoothening out the crease on your forehead with his thumb.
“But I wanna cook you dinner.” You told him.
The thought of you and Bucky spending a domesticated evening together always elated you. You loved daydreaming about it, about sharing a life with your super soldier. Him coming home after a mission and you making sure to take good care of him. Maybe run him a bath while you prepared dinner. Silly, it seemed but you couldn’t help imagining all the possibilities with Bucky. Letting him sleep in on Sundays while you go on a jog, only to come back home with pancakes and bacons waiting for you in the kitchen. And Bucky of course, fresh out of bed with his hair sticking up in different directions.
Being with an Avenger of course, made it difficult to experience all these things. Sometimes you’d wake up alone but Bucky always made sure to leave you a little note.
I’ll be back soon, beautiful.
His notes found a home in one of your drawers. There were plenty and although these notes symbolized his absence on most days, they also meant promises. Promises to make it up for the lost time, promises that were never broken nor forgotten.
Dinner dates were often postponed, sleepovers a rare occurrence— spending time together in general, wasn’t as easy as it was for other couples out there.
But that’s okay. Because you’d always wait for Bucky. You’d wait for him to come home and even if it’d take him three days, one week, two months or even a year, you’d still wait and welcome him with hugs and kisses and affectionate whispers.
Sometimes you wondered whether Bucky knew how much you loved him.
Disagreements were of course, unavoidable even between you and Bucky. Oftentimes, the arguments would stem from his carelessness and selfless decisions during missions. Your super soldier, always so giving and generous and kind. You couldn’t care less about what others thought of him and his days under the influence of monsters. The moment you knew you loved Bucky, you had already accepted him. And that included his demons and dark days too.
To you, Bucky had always been kind and put others first before himself. Sometimes a little too much that you couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t seem to care how you’d feel if ever he wouldn’t make it home.
If Sam hadn’t called you that night, you wouldn’t have known about the serious injury inflicted on Bucky while on a mission.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked as soon as you barged into the medical bay, ignoring the nurse who immediately scrambled out of the room.
Bucky laid in bed, bruised and wrecked and unable to respond upon seeing you seething with anger for the first time ever.
“Were you even planning to tell me in the first place?” You scoffed.
They needed to infiltrate another Hydra base. Raid the base, get all possible information and blow it up to ashes. But then Bucky found a secret basement at the very last minute, young women and men were kept— future Winter Soldiers. The serum hadn’t been injected into their systems yet, they were merely poor teenagers in captivity. Bucky knew he couldn’t let these young people suffer the same fate as him. With barely a minute left before the bomb was set to explode, Bucky did his best to save everyone in that basement.
Never mind the Falcon’s orders to abort his mission, never mind the back-up they had called for to help them out. Bucky knew the choices he had: walk away unscathed knowing that the back-up wouldn’t arrive in time to save the children, or stay behind and do his best to make sure that no one will become another toy for Hydra to play with.
Even if it meant risking his life, even if it meant leaving you back home unaware of his fate.
“They needed me. I couldn’t just leave them behind.” Bucky explained.
“And you didn’t think I needed you too?” You asked, eyes rimmed with tears.
God, you knew you were selfish for feeling hurt but you couldn’t help it. Did it not cross Bucky’s mind that if he had died, you’d be left behind too? Did you not cross his mind during that time?
“Look, I understand what the superhero life is all about. And I know that it’s fucking selfish of me to say this but...Bucky, I need you too. As much as the world does.”
It was a conversation that you and Bucky had many times now. But with how your love grew for him with each passing second, the thought of losing him, it had become too much for you to suppress.
Waking up without his little notes of reassurance that he’d be back soon, no more cold fingers tracing against the smooth expanse of your skin and having to sleep knowing that the next day, Bucky wouldn’t be there anymore— just the mere thought of losing him broke your heart.
“I can’t...” you breathed out, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, Buck.” You admitted with a shaky sigh as your tears continued to fall.
Bucky wanted to get up and pull you to an embrace, but he was too injured to do so. How we wanted to kiss your tears away, all he could do was extend a hand towards you, inviting you to come closer and touch him.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I should have told you, I’m sorry. C’mere.”
Despite your anger, you didn’t think twice and immediately went to hold Bucky’s hand, squeezing it tightly as if you were trying to make sure that he was fine and real and that you didn’t lose him.
“Please stop being so reckless. With how much I love you, it drives me crazy whenever you come home all wounded and bloody and now—“
“You love me?”
Bucky had asked the question as if he couldn’t believe that yes, you do love him. Sam really wasn’t kidding when he said how dense Bucky was.
“Is it not obvious?” You asked, wiping away your tears.
“I mean yeah but...I just didn’t want to assume that you do because we never really talked about it.” He explained, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.
His metal fingers, although cold and hard against your skin, had always been your favorite. They were gentle when they needed to be, or at least whenever Bucky touched you. They were cold and made you shiver but always in a good way.
“Bucky, I’ve talked about wanting a future with you. You still didn’t think that that was love?” There was a hint of playfulness in your tone despite your deadpan expression.
Oh no, what if you interpreted everything the wrong way?
“Do you not...oh my god, Bucky am I the only one in love?” You asked, panicked.
“Oh god, no.” Bucky immediately clarified as he pulled you to sit down on the bed beside him.
“I love you. So much. Please don’t think otherwise.” He said, cupping your face and wiping away the remnants of your tears.
A smile followed by a quick peck on the lips. Bucky moved and gave you enough space to lay down beside him on the hospital bed. Suddenly, everything felt right. Not that it wasn’t before but with the both of you finally uttering those words, it felt different.
The perfect kind of different.
You laid your head against Bucky’s chest and listened to his heartbeat as his hand rubbed comforting circles on your back. You can’t imagine a life without being this close to him, your super soldier.
“I thought of you, you know.” His chest rumbled as he spoke.
You lifted your head up to look at him in confusion. He smiled at you lovingly, “During the mission. Every mission I go to actually, I thought of you.”
Bucky thought about how you always waited for his return no matter how long he took. He imagined what you’d be doing when he’d come back, would you still be asleep? Perhaps you’d be in the shower, singing. Bucky thought about how he’d kiss you as soon as he comes home, how he’d make you feel how much he missed you and your scent, how your smooth skin felt against his.
Every single time, Bucky thought about coming home to you. It was his motivation to stay alive no matter what. He knew you needed him as much as the world does.
Because he needed you just the same.
More than friends, indeed. Less than lovers? No, you and Bucky were more than that.
You were each other’s worlds.
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jadequeen88 · 4 years
Text
Smart Girls Make Fast Learners
NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki​ for beta reading this.
TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.
DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!
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There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks. 
Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you. 
For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.
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“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”
“Wh-wha?”
Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.
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Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:
“No one has ever made me feel this good.”
“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.
“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”
The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.
But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.
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You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla. 
You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…
...And saw Tamaki looking murderous. 
His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.
The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.
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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.
Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.
“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.
“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob. 
Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.
“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.
“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.
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Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…
But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.
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Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.
Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?
“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.  
“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.
He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.
He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.
He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.
“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.
“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.
“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.
He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.
“Say that you’re a lying whore…”
“I..I’m a lying whore…”
The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.
“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”
You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek. 
“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.
“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”
You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.
“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.
“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.
He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.
“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.
“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.
His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped. 
The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.
With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.  
Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.
There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.
It was ecstasy.
When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.
“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend. 
“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,
“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…
“Y-yes…”
You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…
Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly... 
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chalkxtabletxtowers · 3 years
Text
~Love can make you kill~
•Fandom: Helluva Boss
•Shipping: Striker x Reader
•Warnings: Manipulation (duh), but otherwise none.
The motel was dimly lit as you stepped inside. The last light bulb seemed to have given up months ago and no one seemed to care enough to actually fix it. Many of the rooms you could've gone in, were shut down and tightly blocked with wooden planks. It all looked very worn out, old and neglected, but it was probably also really cheap. This was the kind of place where criminals lived. The perfect place for your boyfriend.
The only thing that shone brightly into the dark, starry night, was a obnoxiously bright neon sign "Hideaway Motel" it said, the E had already given out and stopped glowing. The rest was red and yellow, a color mixture that stung in your sensitive eyes. Under there, it stated "The guy that tried 2 kill u def isn't here"
It seemed like the space wasn't there to add the proper sentences, but it still made sense to you. This all was so obvious and obnoxious, that you genuinely wondered if there were people falling for that stupid sign. You sighted as you stepped inside. There obviously wasn't a receptionist, the owner probably didn't even have enough money to pay for decent workers. How was this considered a hideout? You didn't even try to add a safe into your thoughts.
"There you are. I've been waiting for ya, my Darling"
A familiar voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see the snake demon walking towards you, his boots making loud noises in the creaking wooden floor. "It was so lonely without ya company, especially at the festival! But now youre here, my favorite person in the entire world!"
He hugged you and wrapped his tail around you, and you would've sunken into the hug, like you usually did, but you knew something about the atmosphere wasn't relaxing at all. You just couldn't put your finger on it "I knew ya would come back eventually"
He whispered, his tongue slithering so close to your ear that it made you shiver. "Don't ever threaten to leave me again if you can't pull through with it. And we both know you can't, Darling"
He let go and sat down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other and signaling you to sit down beside him, which you did. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer once more, talking about the festival and everything he had seemingly experienced. "But you're hurt, Striker."
You noticed and pointed to the bruises in his face "Did something happen to you?"
You genuinely sounded worried, because you were. Guilt crept up on you, guilt for not being with Striker when he apparently needed you. Guilt for letting him get hurt by other people. "Yeah, there was this guy called Blitz on the festival, together with his colleagues from work. And one of them tried to fight me, but he was pathetic and I would've killed him, if I would've gotten the chance to. But fuck did his wife fight back."
You somehow knew this wasn't the whole truth, but also knew better than to ask any invasive questions. Striker wouldn't answer them anyway, or ask if you didn't trust him again. And you didn't know how else to prove anymore that you did.
"I told you not to pick a fight with other people that you aren't supposed to kill. It ends up in a mess and I don't want you to get hurt."
Sighting, you stroke over his chest and inhaled his scent. He always smelled like gunpowder, like hay and the droppings of the animals he took care off. This time, he also smelled like blood.
"I know, I know"
He raised his hands in defense "But ya also know how good my fighting skills are. And the wounds will heal. I'm not sitting here for no reason, Darling"
You just nodded, not interested in picking a fight with him. Not tonight. Not now, that you finally reunited after a argument, that had been your fault. But Striker wasn't very resentful when it came to this, which made everything easier.
"Ohh, Darling, there's this thing I've been wanting to ask you..."
His voice sounded soft, so full of love and affection towards you, that was there somewhere, just his own twisted definition of it.
"Really? What is it? You know I'd do anything for you!"
You eagerly said, watching as he stood up and walked around you and the bed in a circle. It always made you nervous when he did this, but it also almost immediately relaxed you.
"Just look at me Darling, other things don't matter right now. You know how I kill people if I get payed enough, right?"
He asked and you nodded, completely drawn in by him, like a moth that saw a lamp for the first time. You were close to burning your wings, but you didn't notice. His manipulation was too good.
"Yes, of course Striker" you replied, wanting to make him happy.
He just nodded in satisfaction "And you know how you were always against you doing that, which made me really sad, right?"
You nodded again. You had felt guilty for it, as you saw his disappointed glance everytime, but your point still stood. You weren't a pacifist for no reason. "Yes, I know Striker"
He smirked, knowing that everything worked as he wanted. He increased his speed, his tail brushing over your shoulders and chest "There is this royalty of Hell who's been cheating on his wife. Isn't that horrible behaviour?"
He didn't care about that, but he knew you would "And he's a bad influence for his daughter too! Darling"
He sat next to you and took your hands, which immediately caused you to look into his eyes, the wrongest thing you could've done. They were hypnotising in every sense of the word. "Do you want to kill him with me?"
He whispered, eagerly awaiting your response.
"I-"
You did think that royalty had the job to be a good example for other demons in hell. And what he had done didn't sound too nice, and it went against your morals. That, added to his fantastic manipulation, caused you to nod "Yes. Yes I want to kill him with you, Striker"
Striker smirked in success. That's what he had wanted. Seeing his dearest Darling kill send shivers down his spine. It would be amazing! And afterwards, you two could celebrate the victory and your first kill. "That's a good darling."
He gave you a kiss and gently pushed you back, looking at you again "Now. Don't you want to give me a little compensation for being gone for so long?"
You could have sworn you kept the whole motel awake for the night, and as you cuddled against Strikers chest in the morning, you knew you had found the demon for a life time.
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sekceesimps · 4 years
Text
Dying Light (a yandere Zhongli x reader oneshot)
summary: Zhongli comes to claim his darling after she fails to fulfill her end of the contract 
a/n I wish I could say this was requested but I love this man too much. Writing this one had me feeling some kind of way… Hope you all enjoy and leave some requests (pls do yandere Genshin 🤧 smh)! 
Sincerely Coffee
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His dark hair shines vividly in the solemn moonlight. Amber eyes radiant, like the purest of diamonds, and fixated right on you. You stand before him and try to subtly shrink away under his piercing gaze. The candles in the room flicker from some gusts of wind coming in. Zhongli seems stiff and at attention, but at the same time far away, lost in thought. Your light and unconscious movement backwards out of fear, unnoticed by you, immediately snapped the archon’s thoughts back to you. 
A ghost of a smile begins to dance its way onto his handsome face, a stark difference to the dangerous threats he had whispered into your ear just moments ago. The light gave him an eerie appearance. 
“Darling Y/N, I’m afraid that you didn’t uphold your end of the bargain,” he frowned and cocked his head mockingly. You step backwards some more until your back hits the wall of the funeral parlor. He has a predatory gaze now as he steps forward and pins a hand on the surface next to your head. He leans forward to further take in your panic. It brought him distress to see that you weren’t comfortable around him. 
“I’m sure you were a good girl and read the fine print. Surely you must be aware that at the end of our contract, if it was that you couldn’t fulfill your end of the deal, then you must join the greatest contract of all time with me?” he continues and runs another hand hand teasingly down your jaw. 
“Perhaps you could entertain me and tell me what that greatest contract is?” you ask hesitantly. Beginning to feel the gravity of the situation as you notice the way the archon caresses you and looks at you with eyes filled with a dangerous sort of adoration. 
“Oh Y/N, you’ve been bad, I thought you understood everything when you signed. I mean marriage of course,” he answered gleefully, eyes sparkling with affection and excitement at your shocked expression. 
Yes, just when did this feeling for you begin, he had pondered to himself. There was no mistaking that these emotions he felt for you were love. He was sure that you also loved him, so why did you look so afraid? He would show you again how perfect the two of you are. 
- - - 
Zhongli is not one to break his word. He is the archon of contracts after all. When you had approached him, as Rex Lapis, a few months ago he had decided to learn much more about you.  
You were an interesting mortal and had almost immediately caught the God’s attention. The geo archon had taken to shying away from the affairs of humans over the last hundred years or two. However he tended to make exceptions for interesting people with even more interesting requests. 
“I’d like to ask for some help,” your melodic voice said, breaking the silence in Rex Lapis’s abode. “If that means signing into a contract with you, then I accept,”
He appeared near you in an instant, “Even if that means not getting the best deal?” he asks, startling you slightly. 
“Yes,” you breathe out lightly. 
“Hmm, you’ve caught my interest,” he responds, putting a hand to his chin, as if he was thinking long and hard about a potential deal with you, “do go on with what you need my help for” he finishes. Of course, he already knew what you needed. He had been watching you for quite a while, but he loved hearing your voice and being near you for once. 
“I need to find someone and I can’t do it by myself. Could you please lend me your strength and assistance as I look for this person” you practically begged him. Oh how he wanted to hear your begging in a different context. It was taking everything within him to not tug you by your hair and bring you to his side forever by force. He knew that you probably wouldn’t appreciate that and he still had to do his job and draft a contract. That is when the idea had struck him to skillfully find a way to keep you with him forever. 
“Very well, let us start writing up a contract then,” he pronounces with a tone of disinterest, secretly preening with joy on the inside. You perk up and smile largely at him, it brought him satisfaction knowing that he made you feel like that. 
“Alright that should be everything,” he finishes and removes his quill from the scroll. “I will come to you whenever you need help, all you must do is call out my name. As for my benefit, all you need to do is find this person you hold dear and that will be enough for me. You have the next 70 days to complete this, of course there will be a punishment if you can’t fulfill your end. However I have the most faith in your skills.” you nod at him in confirmation as you take the pen from him and leave a scrawling signature on the paper. A glowing binding tying you to the archon, prompting you to blush at how close the two of you were now. “Don’t disappoint me, Y/N'' he whispered and let you leave his abode with a smile. The first step in his plan to make you his was finished. Time to wait for your inevitable failure. 
Now he wasn’t going to actively make you fail, he still was true to his job and bound himself to you so that you could call him for help. He would still assist you as well. However, he agreed to what you wanted because he knew the task itself was impossible. This brother you were looking for was long gone for sure, he made sure of that before he signed on to your contract. He couldn’t wait for when the two of you would finally be spending the next few weeks together. 
 Zhongli was smart about the way he conducted himself around you. He was careful not to give you any hints of his true intentions. Sometimes though there would be foolish people who pushed him. Whenever he saw you talking with, brushing arms with, or giving attention to others, the archon would be fuming. Of course, he would let it simmer, playing for the long game instead. It never failed to make him angry and anxious that these insignificant mortals thought they had a change with his future wife, it caused him to let out a tsch in annoyance. 
The two of you had wonderful moments in your quest. Your ability to work well together in battle allowed for quick defeats of random hilichurls on the journey. Truly your skills were something he admired and loved about you. 
The first night you left a parting goodnight kiss on his cheek was what made him truly believe in life again. Your warm lips against his skin ignited a flame within him that he didn’t know he yearned to have lit.  It began to become a sort of tradition between you two for the next months. 
 His favorite moment with you by far was when the two of you had been drinking and you allowed him to come into your bed. Now, not in THAT way. You didn’t like how he had been sleeping on the ground whenever you spent the night in a tavern so you told him to just sleep in the bed with you. It had been an awkward fit at first due to his taller frame. His long limbs were cramped painfully so you let him wrap his arms carefully around your body. Both of you take in and are intoxicated by the other’s warmth. He could get used to the way you faced him and nuzzled your face into his neck. He had fallen asleep and had the most wonderful rest for the first time in a while. 
After the two of you woke up and cuddled in the morning, “Should the day ever come where we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories” he had smiled and gently taken your hand into his own as he brushed his lips softly against your knuckles. His words and soft actions prompting a light blush across your face. 
He didn’t know how much longer he could wait for you. Every moment he was with you, but not truly in the way he desired wound him up more and more. He knew he would snap very soon. 
- - - 
You tremble against the cold breeze and his warm touch as he leans closer to you and captures your warm lips with his own in a passionate kiss. His hands traveling down further onto your flushed skin. 
Now that you were his in an unbreakable bond, he finally felt at ease. With you, Zhongli felt at home for the first time in thousands of years. He would protect you from any and all threats. If it meant keeping you safe with him, then he would tear apart all of Teyvat. After all, you belonged to this archon now. 
As the sun begins to rise, you notice the dying light within the parlor, fading candles leaving behind a darker atmosphere. A perfect metaphor you think, if he kept touching you like this then you knew that your own resolve would also die out, completely accepting the ownership that he had over you. 
Zhongli notices your wandering gaze before he takes your face between his slender fingers and forces you to look up at him. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how much you mean to me. Let me remind you,” he announces as he lifts you up and brings you towards his room. Indeed, he would be spending the next few hours reminding you of his love, before you embark on the next chapter of your lives together, courtesy of his subclause turning you into an adeptus in addition to being his wife forever more. He had all the time in the world to get you to comply and love him as dearly as he loves you.
a/n why am I so in love with this man 🧎‍♀️
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Fic Master List/Navigation
Hello! Thought I'd finally create a master list because why not?
A dump of all full fics, drabbles and prompts under the cut.
Brettsey
Full fics on ao3
One shots
Slow Show: He thinks he can do this - be a friend, be her friend. It’s what she wants, he keeps reminding himself every time he has the urge to reach out and hold her hand or touch her arm.
Begin Again: She remembers what she told him after the ambo crash - that he was the one who was always there for her. That day, today, the days before and she thinks, the days after too. She doesn’t doubt it. (Slow Show companion piece)
We Opened Our Eyes and It’s Changing The View: Matt is used to letting things go but this one, this thing with Sylvie, he can’t seem to let go and just move on. He honestly doesn’t know if it’s can’t or won’t at this point - maybe it’s a mix of both
Wanting Was Enough, For Me, It Was Enough: What happens if he can’t be a firefighter anymore?  It’s the only thing he knows, the one constant in his life after everything he’s been through
But It’s No Concern When We’re Wounded Together: Sylvie is hanging out at the Patio bar looking around, smiling to herself. Overall it was a good day even if she basically got dumped that morning. Another one bites the dust, she thinks as she exhales heavily
Some Things Just Take Time, How Can You Be Sure If You Won't Try?: Matt’s been thinking about what Grainger told him over and over again. Like a bad song that’s been replaying itself in his head, he can’t erase it.
Take Away My Heartache In The Night Like A Thief: Matt can hear birds chirping in the background as consciousness starts to pull at him. It’s the most restful sleep he’s gotten in the last few months, even the bed feels more comfortable somehow. Was his bed always this cozy?
A Tear That Hangs Inside My Soul Forever: The first time Sylvie sees Matt since he moved to Oregon was at Stella and Kelly’s wedding. They tried to make the long distance thing work for as long as they could but they were both busy.
‘Cause All That You Are Is All That I'll Ever Need: He grins at the memory of them playing Heads Up that night and Sylvie mocking his flawless Australian accent. He spots the posters of national parks she had up on the walls and he knew the hula girl lamp was still on the dresser in her bedroom.
Hope You Know I Don’t Want Nobody Else: The last few months, things have been changing though. Matt suddenly finds himself in a better mood when it comes to observing holidays. He begins to look forward to them and it all started because of Sylvie Brett.
Trust My Love and Hear Me Say: He produces one of those 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzles Sylvie has seen sold in souvenir and hobby shops around town from behind his back.  On the cover of the box is Mount Rushmore.
We Keep This Love In A Photograph: Over the course of their years long relationship, from dating to marriage, Matt was able to take so many photos and capture a lot of fond memories but this one might just be his absolute favorite.
How Much Longer Then? (I'll Show You In): The first time it happened, Sylvie swears it was an accident. (AU)
It’s On The Edge of What We’re Grateful For: Thirty minutes later, she had a mild buzz and laughed loudly at a joke Matt made that she thought would not have been otherwise funny had they been sober. (AU)
And That's How It Works, That’s How You Get The Girl: Oh. It dawns on her that Matt may have a small crush on the PIC. (AU)
🎄Holiday one shots🎄
I'll Be Home For Christmas: Matt had a week of furlough approved and the Darden boys were spending the holidays with their aunt. It was the perfect plan. That is, until a huge snowstorm hit Chicago two days ago and refused to leave, cancelling all flights indefinitely
On The Twelfth Day of Christmas My True Love Sent to Me: On the first day of Christmas, Matt walks into his quarters to find a can of pears in syrup, a green bow slapped on top. He looks at it in confusion until he remembers that it’s part of the gift exchange - right, a partridge in a pear tree.
I Want Your Midnights (But I'll Be Cleaning Up Bottles With You on New Year's Day): She really didn’t want to have to play nice so she did the only thing she could think of. She tapped this guy next to her on the shoulder.
Multi chapter AUs
I’ll Keep An Eye On You, If You Keep One On Me: She looks around the kitchen. The two years of her life seem fit into only four boxes plus a carry on suitcase. How sad is that?
To That Brighter Day Where It All Begins: They’ve been growing closer over the past year but the timing had never been quite right.
But I Know The Heart Of Life is Good: He’s about to make the joke when all of a sudden, they hear the baby’s first cry and he breaks out into wide grin, gazing at Sylvie who only has eyes for the tiny human being in front of her.
Ours Are the Moments I Play in The Dark (Come Home To My Heart): It’s been almost four and a half years since Matt left for Oregon and a month since he’s been back bringing a little girl with him, who he introduced as his daughter, on his first day back on shift.
Love Turns The Whole Thing Around: A series of non-linear one shots set in the 'But I Know The Heart of Good' Universe that follow Matt, Sylvie and Elijah as they continue to grow together as a family.
Even Boulders Turn Into Sand: Sylvie’s been feeling out of sorts. It started about two weeks ago. She would feel constantly tired and sleepy even if she drank copious amounts of coffee.
Drabbles & Prompts
Compiled the very first prompts I did over here
Established Brettsey fic with jealous Sylvie
Matt kissing Sylvie while she is talking midsentence and Sylvie kissing Matt while he is talking midsentence
I'll meet you in my dreams
I Miss You So Much
Next time, wake me up before you leave
why do you stick around?  what is it you think you see in me?
Stop fussing, I’m trying to take care of you
when you get hurt, you’re supposed to call your (bf/fiance/husband)
I love you more
Will you marry me?
you’re getting too protective!
you’ve been gone a while
can we afford this?
I’m so glad your going to be okay
I don't trust easily. I never have
Stop pushing me away
We should get matching tattoos
Why didn’t you tell me sooner?
you can't protect/save me every time
I should always be your first call
You're saying this Mr. Darcy is your fantasy?
I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified in my life
want to tell me why you have a divorce attorney’s card on you?
You are a baby whisperer
I really hate when we fight
I don’t what I would do without you
send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it
I couldn't help falling in love with you
When you say nothing at all
Just Let Me Hold You
Nightmare
Don't Break my Heart Like Everyone Else
I'm Yours
I've Always Felt Safe With You
So Now Who's Been Doing A Little Drinking?
only in my wildest dreams
If I ever lost you
If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up
Chenford
Full fic on ao3
What Might Have Been Lost Don’t Bother Me: She kept her moonstone ring. The only remnant of her actual life. The same one she dropped before she got in the barrel, hoping someone who find it and in turn, find her
Drabbles & Prompts
And Now I See Daylight
I Deserved More Than This
You can’t just take a bullet for me and expect me not to react
I think it’s time i met your parents
why didn’t you call?
Please, just let me go
I really hate when we fight send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it
I've Always Loved You
Why are you afraid?
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nowoyas · 4 years
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Housewarming (NSFW) (Bunny!Izuku x Reader)
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Summary: Izuku comes over to spend the weekend helping you finish moving into your new house. You learn a few things about the habits of rabbits, including just how deep the rabbit hole goes. (bunny!Izuku x reader) (smut smut smut smut smut)
Warnings/notes: fuckin. just straight up fuckin. biting, hair pulling, tail and ear pulling, oral (giving and receiving), uhhhhh reader has tits and a vag but gender is not confirmed. reader and izu are both switches, praise kink with reader receiving, uhhh I think that’s it? a gratuitous amount of focus on the fact that bunnies wiggle their noses to express interest in things.
A/N: so uh. I’ve NEVER written smut before so please be gentle. but I had a conversation on discord the other night with some of my lovely wives. that conversation started something like this:
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the following is how the conversation ended. (writing smut is apparently much easier with live audience commentary, i’ve learned.)
Word count: 8100+
~
Spending weekends with Izuku has always been at the top of your list of favorite things, pretty much second only to the man himself. Can anyone blame you? Your rabbit-eared best friend (read: longtime crush) is pretty much the sweetest guy you've ever met, his mom is a wonderful woman, and often, you feel more at home curled up with Izuku on his bedroom floor (neither of you ever want to take the bed only to leave the other on the floor, resulting in a history of cuddling each other to sleep and entirely defeating the purpose of sleeping on the floor to begin with) than you do your own house most of the time.
Spending the weekend together has been a monthly ritual for the two of you for years now, beginning in your last year of middle school (consisting of an extremely flustered bunny) when you still lived in the same apartment complex. You've since moved and the years have been kind, the innocent ritual remaining steadfast no matter how busy you or Izuku got with school or training or any matter of thing.
Only... This weekend is different. Because in the past, the two of you were always in the dorms or at his mom's apartment. There were always people somewhere nearby to pop their head in and offer fresh cookies or join in beating you at Mario Kart or put in a noise complaint if you laughed too loud.
In a way, there were always limits.
This weekend is the first in your new house, bought for a surprisingly low price that you can assume is the result of being relatively small and not in a very desirable area.
This weekend, you're completely alone with him.
Realistically, it's likely not that big of a deal. He's just coming over to help you unpack after you spent the past week preparing for the move. A housewarming sleepover is the perfect way to get you used to sleeping in the new place, after all, and you'd be much more comfortable if Izuku were there with you! (Besides, free labor.)
But you can't help but be just a little high strung.
You've reminded yourself a thousand times now that it's just Izuku. You trust him with your life, after all, and he's trusted you with every secret he has (even those he's technically not legally allowed to be disclosing to you). You were the first person he told about his new quirk, even before his own mom. So why the hell are you so nervous?
You're busily and restlessly looking between kitchen cabinets to decide where your dishes will go when he arrives, landing three firm knocks on your front door. You greet him with a smile and nearly cry when you realize he's brought flowers and pizza, his trademark nervous grin on his face.
"Great! This is the right place!" Izuku says, and you smile and step aside to let him in. "Your new place looks great, [name]!"
You smile, relaxing at his presence as you watch him walk in to explore. "Nothing's really set up yet," you say as he investigates the new house. "I've got a couch, a table, and a lamp and that's about it."
He turns to you, nose twitching excitedly. "It's got a lot of potential! I can't wait to help you get everything set up so we can really see how nice it is! Oh, and these are for you! I know it's traditional to give something, you know, useful for a housewarming gift, but I-I wanted to congratulate you on finally getting enough together to get your own place, and I think having something nice to look at is useful, too, so—"
You accept the bouquet with a faint blush, smiling up at him. "I love them, Izuku. Thank you." (Privately, you think that just his presence here gives you something nice to look at, but you suppose the flowers will stay a little bit longer.)
There's a quiet moment where the two of you just look at each other, and man, Izuku is really good at making you think he might actually be attracted to you, huh. (Probably just wishful thinking.) "Let's... let's go ahead and get started, yeah?" you say, eyes drifting hungrily to the box he has balanced on one hand. "I see you've brought pizza. I haven't put together the chairs yet, so wanna sit in the middle of my kitchen floor and eat pizza?"
He chuckles, ruffling your hair. "Lead the way."
~
An entire pizza between the two of you and with the entire kitchen unpacked, you fling yourself onto the couch with a sigh. "God, I'm so tired of this move already," you whine. "I just wanna be done already."
Izuku laughs as you drape yourself over the back of the couch dramatically, throwing an arm over your face. "That bad, huh?"
"Yes!" You take a moment to peek at him as he crouches by your TV, but his back blocks your view of what he's actually doing. Instead, you watch his fluffy tail with amusement. It twitches whenever you speak, and you swear to god it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. "I spent the past weeks packing when I wasn't at work only to unpack it and I'm tired, 'Zukuuuu."
"Well, what if we took a little break?" he offers with another twitch of his tail. He stands, brandishing your favorite controller as he circles around behind the couch to hand it to you. "You up for it?"
You roll your eyes, shifting to reach for the controller. The minute your fingers brush against it, though, Izuku takes a step back, his nose twitching quickly. The corners of his lips pull up into a poorly-concealed grin, and you sigh, flipping over and reaching for it again.
"Izuku..." you say, tone playfully warning as he pulls the controller just out of your reach a second time.
"You sure you want it?" he teases, pulling the controller just far enough away that you pop up on your knees, propping yourself on the back of the couch with one hand as you reach. "You want me to destroy you that badly?"
Ohgodpleaseyes—You choke, your hand slipping out from beneath you. Before he has the chance to be too concerned, you let out an annoyed noise and fling yourself over the back of the couch, chasing after him with a beet red face. Izuku yelps and runs the other direction when he sees you coming, hardly giving you the chance to break into a sprint before he's down the hall.
He stops a few feet down, watching you with one ear raised up, the other dropping against his shoulder. The grin on his face is downright goofy, and you let out a small giggle before giving proper chase. 
Izuku, naturally, is not one to be caught. Even without the use of One For All, bunnies are naturally very fast, and you learned fairly quickly that he does not get caught if he doesn't want to be. Still, you'd be damned if you weren't going to try. You try to tackle, he somehow manages to slip around you and back down the hall, evading you constantly until the two of you have bounded through every room of the house, narrowly avoiding boxes and as-of-yet still-disassembled furniture just to get your damn controller between his amused laughter.
Izuku stops and watches you again just as you're starting to get out of breath, nose twitching a mile a minute. You come to a stop just in front of the couch, panting a bit from the exertion of chasing your fucking menace of a best friend around your house. He has both controllers held behind his back, and that's about when he does the single cutest thing you've ever seen in your life.
He fucking binkies, leaping into the air a few feet as he flicks his head, his ears flopping with the movement. You let out a giggle, trying very hard not to completely lose your composure, and, in a fit of goofiness, mimic the motion. It doesn't quite work the same when you're not the adorable one with the bunny quirk, but apparently, it does something, because Izuku's face goes full red in an instant, eyes widening as he searches your face.
He drops the controllers.
Your eyes flick to them as they hit the ground, and you realize that if you're going to get those controllers you have to do it now. You make a move to sweep them off the ground, but the second you move, it's apparently over for you.
The slightest sound of electric sparks reaches your ears before the wind's knocked out of you, your back hitting your couch cushions roughly as Izuku slams into your body, one hand cradling the back of your head protectively before he straddles your waist, looking down at you with a downright ecstatic look, green lightning sparking around Izuku for just a moment longer as he stares down at you, nose still twitching like it's run by a motor, ears straight up in the air, but that's hardly the key detail here.
His face is beet fucking red as he stammers. "D-do you really mean that?"
"Uh... wait, mean what?" You tilt your head, a little flustered from suddenly getting tackled and pinned down by your incredibly attractive best friend. Is your head spinning, or is that just the room?
Fuck, are you imagining things, or does he look excited beneath all that blushing?
"Y-you did it back, usually that's, uh, it means— um..." The excitement drains from his face steadily and his expression drops. (His ears also drop.) You've never seen him look so wounded, and now you're really confused. His next words tumble out of his mouth at a dizzying rate. "I-if you don't know what I'm talking about then nevermind, I obviously messed up, I can leave—"
The moment Izuku pushes off you and stands, very obviously embarrassed and looking on the verge of tears, you regain your bearings just enough to tackle him back down so now he's the one being pinned down. "No, you're not backing out of this. Did I really mean what, Izuku?"
He stammers incoherently for a second, his eyes roaming over you like he's not sure where to look, and you're suddenly a little self-conscious at the fact that you've just pinned him to your couch with no room for interruptions if things were to go the way pinning someone down on a couch is probably supposed to go, but you refuse to let up until he gives you an answer. You bring a hand up to his cheek, swiping a thumb where the first of several tears is moments away from slipping out.
"Come on, Zu-kun. I obviously did something to upset you, and I don't know what I did, and won't know what I did until you explain it to me."
He lets out a shaky sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if it'll change the situation.
"'Zuku..."
Finally, he opens his mouth to answer. "It's, um, w-well, usually when rabbits, y'know, c-court each other, to, y'know..." His hands come up to cover his face in sheer embarrassment as he says the next words in a hushed hurry, so quick and quiet you almost don't catch them. "Y-y'know, m-m-mate and stuff like that, they, uh..."
Hot shame floods your being as you slowly come to a realization of what, exactly, you may have implied to him.
"It's, it usually, um, there's, kind of a m-mating dance? And w-when, um, I-I didn't really mean to, but um, at the end, i-if one of them binkies and the other d-does it back, it means, um—" He lets out a mortified whine. "P-please don't make me explain it any more than that," he says finally, sounding defeated.
Oh. Oh.
Well, that's something along the lines of a "disaster" if you've ever caused one.
"Oh fuck, I am so sorry, shit Izu. I didn't mean to—"
"I-it's okay," he mumbles, dragging his hands off his reddened face. "You can get off me now."
Jesus, he's about seconds away from crying as he gently tries to push you off him. 
Well, fuck. Unless you're mistaken, the expression on his face is utter heartbreak. You're already in the worst position possible here, so...
You lock your thighs in place around his waist to resist his gentle push. "Izuku, wait."
"[name], it's okay. Please just, give me a minute to—"
"Izuku." You firmly place your hands on his chest, pushing him back down. "Please listen for a sec?"
His hands remain on you, but he stops pushing, not meeting your eyes as he waits in silence.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that binkying back at you like that would imply that I, you know, wanted to get with you, but that doesn't..." You chew your lip, locking your eyes on the controllers, still on the floor from when he dropped them. No backing out. 
You mumble the last part (the most important part) so fast you almost hope he doesn't hear you: "that doesn't mean it was the wrong idea or anything—"
His head is still turned away, but his eyes flick to your face with a surprised sniffle. "...what?"
You furrow your brow, your heart hammering away in your chest. "God, please don't make me say it again," you whine, your hands coming up to hide your own face.
"No, please say it again," he breathes. "I mean, I already misinterpreted once today and I don't want to—"
You let out an embarrassed whine, pressing your hands to your face even harder. "I didn't mean to say it but that doesn't mean it wasn't something I meant to say eventually," you hiss out slowly and much louder than you would have liked.
You peek at Izuku through your fingers, desperately looking for any reaction to tell you whether you just irreparably fucked things up with your best friend. 
Izuku is, and always has been, a very expressive person. You've been able to gauge his emotions at a glance for as long as you've known him—even if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, generally the angle of his ears and the movement of his nose or tail have always been more than enough to keep tabs on how your best friend is feeling.
Right now, though, aside from the flush on his cheeks and slight parting of his lips, Izuku is carefully blank. It's like he's shut down, mentally—blank eyes, nose still, mouth just slightly open but not with any hint of emotion to it. Not positive, not negative, just mild shock and a practiced blankness that has your face burning and you moving to get off him.
You feel him shift beneath you just a moment, and then once again, you yelp as you suddenly find yourself on your back, but this time, you're not looking up at Izuku, because his lips are pressed to yours, one leg hanging off the couch while the other is wedged firmly between your legs. You can feel his hands tremble as they cup your face, your eyes blown wide with shock. He's unpracticed, but his lips are soft and it's him kissing you so enthusiastically that you really have no right to complain.
Your eyes flutter shut as you begin to kiss back, your hands gently coming up to tangle fingers in his hair. You let out the tiniest whimper as your reciprocation seems only to spur him on, him kissing you somehow even more passionately.
You can't help but giggle into the kiss when you feel his nose twitching against your face, causing him to pull back just enough to breathe. His obsession with training over the years has clearly done him well—his breathing seems mostly unaffected by the kiss, while you lay there panting and trying to make sense of what the hell just happened. 
Izuku watches your face for just a moment, seemingly shocked at his own actions, but leans in again, brushing his nose against yours adoringly. "I-I'm sorry, I was just... really happy..."
You let out another tiny giggle, leaning up to kiss him again. Much like in all other areas of his life, he's quick to kiss back, already seeming to kiss you with a bit more precision than the first. He pulls back, hot breath ghosting against your lips as he whispers to you. "I-I've loved you for—" —he breaks off to plant another tiny kiss on your lips— "—s-so, so long, [name]."
He goes to kiss your lips again, but whines when you turn your head so he hits your cheek instead. "I love you too, 'Zuku," you hum, continuing to dodge his kisses playfully. 
"[naaaame]," he whines. "I've got a lot of lost time to make up for, stop dodging me..."
Cute, sweet kisses are lovely and all, but as long as you're trapped between his muscles and the couch, you might as well tease him a little, right? And you've got just the idea to push him a bit further.
You look up at him with a playful smile as he glares heatlessly at you. His hand, previously cupping your cheek sweetly, grows a little bit firmer in its hold in an attempt to hold your face in place so he can kiss your lips. He darts down to capture your lips again, exactly according to plan.
Your fingers, still entwined in the mop of green he calls hair, grip carefully and tug his head back before he can properly kiss you.
Bingo. You can't help but grin with flushed cheeks as he immediately grinds his hips down onto your leg, letting out a breathy moan as something suspiciously firm and growing rubs against your thigh, bare from the shorts you dug out of your clothes this morning.
You watch his face in awe, his freckles disappearing among how purely red he's gone, and give another gentle tug to his hair. This time, he borderline whimpers, hips moving like he's being controlled. His eyelids flutter shut, hot pants causing his chest to heave as green eyes stare down at you, darker than you remember.
No lies here, the fact that he can't help but grind on you is... really hot. So hot, in fact, that you can't help but shoot him a teasing smirk as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. "Excited, Jackrabbit?" you muse.
He whines as his head drops to your shoulder. Quietly, so quietly you almost miss it, he mumbles, "how can I not be when you of all people finally take an interest in me?"
God, if he weren't still grinding his hard-on against you, that would've been adorable. "If I'd known you were into me, we could've been doing this years ago, 'Zuku baby." You punctuate your sentence with another tug to his hair, to which he retaliates by biting down on the crook of your neck, dragging a drawn-out moan from your throat.
He pulls off with a small giggle of his own, eyes staring down at you playfully. "Aw, are we sensitive, honeybun?"
You don't dignify him with a response. At least, not a verbal one. You pull him back down for another heated kiss, lips moving against his as your hands slowly drift from his hair, down to his chest. You splay your palms out, just feeling his muscles for a second before you pull back, take a breath, and shove him as hard as you can. He lets out a tiny "guh?" before you're straddling his hips, hands returning to his hair and lips returning to his.
He's shocked, but clearly he's more than happy to continue making out with you like this. You, however, have a curiosity stemming from years of Izuku dodging around you touching his ears that you just have to sate, so your hands slowly but purposely crawl up to the base of his ears, thumbs brushing the velvety appendages gently before you pinch the base and give them the slightest tug.
Izuku pulls back with a moan, shivering as you continue to thumb his ears in slight awe at their texture. "[n-name]~"
You bring a hand up to laugh. "Aw, are we sensitive, Izu?" you tease, drawing a glare from him. Just to drive it home, you shift and grind your hips down, planting both hands on his chest to steady yourself, effectively killing his glare as he lets out another shaky moan.
"T-that's not fair," he whines.
"Life's not fair," you muse, grinding down one more time before leaning down and tugging at his shirt. He doesn't seem to notice, lost in pleasure just from grinding with his eyes closed. "'Zuku baby, can I see a bit more of you?"
Another whine tears from his throat, and he opens one eye to look up at you. "O-only if I—hah—get to see more of you, too."
You smile, locking your legs around his hips and giving him a show as you slowly peel your shirt off. When it's over your head, you look down and wink, almost losing your composure completely.
His jaw's dropped, eyes locked on your body, and when you wink, he bucks his hips up. You yelp, barely managing to steady yourself at the sudden force, and this time when you lean down and go to pull his own shirt off, he helps you wiggle it off of him. You suppress a groan at the sight of his bare chest, shifting up a bit so you're straddling his abs and he can't grind against you as easily. (You love it, but can't have him getting too excited, now.) 
Scarred, calloused hands settle on your waist as he just admires you, completely wordless. You've half a mind to be self-conscious about his lustful gaze on you, but it's hard when you've got your own view to devour.
Izuku really is gorgeous. Sure, it's not the first time you've noticed over the years. Where he was once your scrawny bunny boy, years of training and hero work have left him littered with scars and bursting with muscles, maintaining his lithe form without sacrificing any amount of strength. Among the scars is a smattering of freckles decorating his shoulders, and that's just his body. To say nothing about his face, still young-looking despite the years and, as of right now, dripping with utter adoration for you.
"You're gorgeous," he breathes, thumbs gently rubbing circles into your hips.
"Says you." You smooth your hands over his chest, dragging your nails teasingly. When you barely brush against his nipples, he shivers, letting out the slightest gasp. You smirk and repeat the motion, watching his face as his fingers twitch around your waist. You could honestly tease him like this for hours just to watch his face and feel his muscles as his stomach trembles between your legs. (Again, Izuku has always been the epitome of expressive, and it's moments like these that you truly understand how much that shines.)
Izuku, however, has a better idea as he effortlessly sits up with you in his lap, trembling as he gives you a slow, charged kiss. (You'd like to imagine his thought process right now is something along the lines of "holy shit holy shit holy shit", but it's difficult to tell.) When he pulls away, he buries his nose in your neck, letting out a shuddering sigh as you glance down over his back. "I-is it okay if I touch you, too?"
You stifle a laugh when you finally notice his tail hitting the couch a mile a minute, forgetting for a moment that Izuku asked you a question. "Just do it already, Jackrabbit," you tease. "You don't have to ask."
He doesn't waste a moment at your permission, immediately shoving your bra up and out of the way to take one of your breasts into his mouth, a hand coming up to knead the other one excitedly. For a moment, you simply hold him as he enjoys himself, letting out little gasps as he lathes a hot tongue over your nipple and lets out a tiny moan of his own. But naturally, your eyes drift to his tail again. The ball of fluff seems to be moving of its own accord, and honestly, you can't resist drifting your hand down to grab it and give it a little tug.
The mouth on your breast leaves as Izuku immediately tosses his head back, letting out a strangled moan louder than you ever thought possible. His hands squeeze instinctively as his eyes roll back, ears falling back and brushing your hand as he momentarily loses himself.
Your face flushes as you watch his with renewed interest. You swear you can see hearts in his eyes, the blush on his cheeks creeping down his neck and shoulders, and holy fuck do you wish you had a camera ready. You want to look at that expression every day for the rest of your life.
He lets out a few garbled noises that might have been words, had he been two percent more coherent. Your laugh dies in your throat when, upon collecting himself, he gives you a look about four shades darker than you ever thought your sweet Izuku to be capable of. You knew he was gorgeous and fun and amazing, but now you can add "panty-dropper" to the list of words describing him.
You don't fight back when he practically flings you back onto your back and clamors to hover over you, nipping at your neck as his hands find the waistband of your shorts. He yanks both your shorts and your panties down at once, leaving them to pool around your knees as the force pulls you back flush with his hips. When you give his tail another weak tug he growls into your neck. You're gone. You're officially gone. Between the not-so-gentle reminder that this boy can fling you around like a ragdoll whenever he wants (and that you kinda wanna thank him for doing so) and the growl, just...
Goodbye, panties. You're living a better life now.
When he looks into your eyes with that same heated gaze from before, your breath catches in your throat. His voice, however, is far from matching when he speaks. "I-I really want to take things slow a-and do things right, b-but if you keep pulling my tail like that, my patience is gonna run out, you know?"
You watch his face with wide eyes for a long moment, pulling the most innocent face you can muster. "Pulling your tail like what, Jackrabbit?" you say teasingly.
And then.
And then.
You pull again.
Izuku's moan turns to a whine and mixes with your own as he bites down on your neck a third time to muffle himself. He pulls up when he's collected and reaches behind himself, one hand firmly wrapping around your wrist while the other grabs your other hand. Slowly, purposefully, he pins your wrists down in one hand, attempting to intimidate you with a glare. There's no heat to it, though, especially not like this, not when there's hearts in his eyes, not when he's panting and sweating and blushing down his neck and you're now fully aware that he moans like a goddamn pornstar.
To his credit, none of that makes you any less horny right now.
Now that he's got your wrists pinned down, he takes another moment to just look at you with hungry eyes. They roam your disheveled form, paying particular attention to your tits as they bounce with every heavy breath. His eyes drift up to your face, and he swallows harshly at the look you're giving him. It takes him just a moment longer of admiring you, the damn near animalistic look from before slipping away to something more Izuku before he speaks.
"I-if we're going to do this, I want to make sure you feel good, too," he says evenly, no longer looking anything but purely genuine. "So please keep your hands to yourself for a little bit?" He tilts his head, ears flopping with the motion, eyes innocent as if he's not asking you to hold still so he can drive you to madness without interruptions.
You nod slowly, swallowing a bit and stilling in his grasp. His fingers twitch, his face lights up, and for just a moment you swear he's more like a puppy than a bunny. 
He shifts, his hands releasing your wrists but hovering over them a moment longer. "If you need me to stop at all, just let me know, okay? The last thing I want to do is push you further than you're okay with it."
"Okay," you whisper breathlessly, watching with interest as he properly lets your wrists go. He glares playfully for a moment, watching to see that you don't move your hands, and when he seems satisfied that you'll actually listen this time, he begins tracing down your arms with featherlight touches.
He's painfully slow in his movements, fingertips grazing your skin as he moves down. He briefly leans down and pecks at you softly, first your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then grazes your lips just enough to draw out a whine as he cups your cheeks. With every tiny kiss, he mutters against your skin— "love you—" "—so much—" "—so fucking much."
"Love you more," you chirp sweetly.
"Hmm, that's debatable," he hums. "But let's come back to that later. Right now, there's s-something I want to do."
With that, he continues running his hands down your body, smoothing his rough palms out just to feel your skin. He exhales slowly as he palms your breasts, smiling fondly down at you as you gasp. "You're so soft..." he whispers, mostly to himself, as his nose twitches a single time. He only plays with your breasts for a moment before his hands continue to move down your body, eliciting a surprised giggle when his scarred hands smooth over your sides. He slowly moves in with both hands, dipping between your thighs, and just when you think he's finally going to touch your dripping slit...
He gently parts your thighs and continues moving, lightening his touch as fingertips drag over your inner thighs. You let out a mournful cry when he continues down your legs, hands smoothing against your outer thighs and hooking underneath as he reaches your knees.
He exhales, flicks his eyes up to your face with a blank look that usually spells trouble. Without warning, he yanks you toward him in a controlled jerk, leaning down as you yelp. Before you can get your bearings, his hot tongue is dragging flat against your heat. You let out a moan that almost drowns out his own at the flavor.
"God, y-you're so wet for me, [n-name]." His breath is hot against you, green eyes locked on yours. "You taste so good."
You'd like to respond, really you would, but he goes right back to eating you out, tongue firmly dancing over your clit before dipping into you. His hands grip your thighs as he enthusiastically gets to work, little moans peppering the space in between your own gasps and pants. You throw your head back as he works—he's a messy eater, to be sure, but you swear you can feel him learning as he goes. He's probably cataloging every noise you make, every twitch of your thighs, especially if the rhythm he quickly falls into is anything to go by.
When he moves to latch his mouth over your clit, his eyes closed as he loses himself to pleasuring you, and you're so so close, maybe you can get away with at least winding your fingers through his hair—
The moment your hands move, his eyes shoot open, and he pulls away from your pussy with a look that screams nothing but disappointment, though it doesn't quite cut. "Honeybun..." he says, voice husky and gently chiding, your slick glistening on his lips. "You said you'd keep your hands to yourself."
You instantly slam your hands back down to the couch, letting out a whine as you give him a pleading look. "B-but I wanna touch you, Izu," you whine out.
His hips buck against air at your words, his nose twitching in surprise as his eyes widen. Seeing a crack in his armor, you have to pounce. "Come on, Jackrabbit," you insist. "You're so good to me. Can't I make you feel amazing, too?"
He's so stunned that he hardly reacts as you prop yourself up on one elbow, yanking him down for a hot kiss with a hand on the nape of his neck. You wrinkle your nose in distaste when you realize you can taste yourself on his lips, but that doesn't mean you're going to stop, not by any means. You lift a knee, opening one eye to make sure you're aiming correctly, and rub against his aching bulge just as his tongue slips into your mouth. 
The poor boy jerks away from your mouth, letting out a quiet, drawn out moan as his cock twitches against your knee.
He stares at you for a moment, face flushed and breathing heavy as tiny tears form at the corners of his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, [name], I wanted you t-to—"
You cut him off with a sweet kiss, locking lips with him as you carefully shimmy out of your bra and bottoms (both having been left hastily shoved out of the way), tossing them out of the way. When you're properly stripped, you gently push him back so you're both sitting up and pull away with a sweet smile. 
"We're only done here if you want to be, Zuzu," you say, dripping with affection (and perhaps maybe something else).
He immediately shakes his head, ears following the motion as his face flushes worse. "N-no, I want to... I want to keep going."
You chuckle softly and slide off the couch, gently guiding him to sit in front of you properly before you reach up to toy with the zipper of his pants. "Then, let's keep going, hm~?"
He nods, nose twitching relentlessly as you slowly pull his zipper down and slide your hands into his pants. You cheekily smooth your hands over his ass before actually beginning to pull his pants and boxers off in one go. You giggle as his cock springs out, somehow still hard despite the obvious mess of cum clinging to his thighs and the inside of his boxers. You slowly lean forward, sure to make eye contact with him. Instead of going for the mess he's made just yet, however, you run a thumb through some of his cum and smear it over his abs, just to have an excuse to lick it off.
You're slow and sweet as you lick up his abs, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. The look he gives you is almost one of betrayal as you pull back, and you bring a hand to your lips with a coquettish grin.
"Sorry Izu baby, I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," you admit, resting your arms on his legs and your head on your arms.
He groans lowly at the admission, head dropping back. "H-how long—" he breathes out, cutting off when you drag a finger over his length.
God, even his cock is gorgeous. Long, thick, honestly just a little bit intimidating. You're functionally a virgin thanks to your formative years spent being silently in love with a certain green rabbit boy, so you're a little concerned that he'll split you in half when you actually fuck. 
...You might not complain if he does.
You admire it with adoring eyes as he whimpers. "Now's not the time for asking questions, Jackrabbit," you coo, glancing up at him for only a moment before wrapping your hand around his cock. (Christ, you can barely wrap your whole hand around it.) "I was good long enough, so you'll let me return the favor, right?"
"I'll be good," he whines, bucking into your hand something fierce. "I'll be good so please, [name], please—"
You lift your head from where it rests, guiding his tip to your mouth to press a tiny kiss there. Izuku whimpers in response, attempting to buck his hips again. You smile, snaking an arm around behind him to gently run your thumb over the fluff of his tail. You keep a light hold on it, just touching it enough to feel it as you take a deep breath in preparation. When you're ready, you lean forward again slowly, teasingly breathing hot air onto his cock before finally, finally taking him into your mouth. 
"Fuck," Izuku breathes as your mouth closes over him, gripping the couch cushions with white knuckles.
If you thought you'd take this slow and teasing, well, regrettably, Izuku can't seem to control himself well enough for that. He bucks into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease as you choke. You tug his tail ever-so-slightly as a warning, but his response is almost more than the way he lost his mind earlier—his hips move frantically, leaving you to do nothing but relax and take his cock down your throat.
"I-I'm sorry," he babbles. "Y-your mouth is so— so good, you're so good for me, honeybun, I'm sorry, I don't think— ahn~ I don't think I can be good like you asked, it's too good, you're too good, s-soooooooo—"
You manage to tear yourself away from him just in time for him to erupt, hot ropes of cum hitting your face and the top of your breasts, precious little making it into your mouth as you gasp for air. His tail twitches in your hand as he babbles, legs shaking and feet gently thumping the floor. You gently, carefully, clean him up, pausing to grab your discarded shirt and wipe your face off.
When you're both clean and still out of breath, you rest your head against his leg, tilting up at him sweetly as you trace small, soothing circles over his opposite thigh. "You said you'd be good, but I guess this makes us even, huh, 'Zuku?"
He mutters something you don't quite catch.
"What was that?"
"I said—" —you're suddenly tackled once again, skidding across the floor from sheer force as Izuku pins you down— "—not. yet."
Well. Mark me down as scared and horny, I guess. 
"S-still raring to go, Jackrabbit?" you force out in your best teasing tone. "Huh, guess it's true what they say about fucking like—"
"Hush," he hisses out in a dark tone. You gulp; all the adoration and sweetness you're used to from him has melted away, leaving only something dark and carnal in his eyes that has you shivering. And then, almost instantaneously, he slips into a saccharine tone. "Be a good girl and let me take care of you, okay sweetheart?"
Oh god. You nod so quickly it's dizzying, so slightly that if it were anyone other than Izuku watching you, they might not notice. But it is Izuku and he notices, just like he notices your breath hitching when he does something right, notices how you respond to his praise, notices how you watch him, excited and intimidated all at once, and the smile he gives you is deceptively sweet and innocent and so so unsuited to the situation at hand that if the circumstances were different, you'd laugh. But you're not laughing. Not when you feel his head prod against your entrance and circle teasingly. 
He doesn't tease you for long, though. One whine from you is all it takes for him to slide into you, made easier by how soaked you get the moment his goddamn guttural groan reaches your ears. He shakes as he enters you at a torturous pace, drawing a cry from your lips as you feel yourself stretched in a way you've never been before. The slightest squelch fills your living room as he finally bottoms out in you and stills to let you adjust to his size.
You're not sure whether to thank every deity that he's got at least enough self control to let you adjust (or that he's going to fuck you at all) or to plead for him to please god just rearrange my guts already before you lose your fucking mind. Izuku forces himself to open his eyes and watch you as you take him in, biting his lip as your face contorts. It's so much, so much to not just ruin you right off the bat, but he's careful to wait and not hurt you... too badly, at least.
You just watch him, meeting his eyes with a half-lidded gaze of your own as you pant and lie still. After a moment, Izuku realizes why you're so still and quiet—
His head drops into your shoulder as he chuckles. "You really are so good for me, honeybun. Are you ready?"
"P-please~" you mewl into his ear.
That's all he needs to hear. Slowly, carefully, he pulls out of you until just the tip of his cock is left throbbing inside of you, and then he snaps his hips forward in one sharp motion. That damn smile drops from his face, his jaw going slack as he starts a slow pace, trying his absolute damnedest to not completely lose himself. As much as he adores watching your expressions, he can't help but throw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he pistons into you, panting heavily.
"Hah~ Fuck, [name], y-you're so— so tight~"
When he finally brings himself to take a peek down at you, he can't help the sudden increase in both speed and force as he grips your hips. With every thrust, your tits bounce in response, and your expression is nothing short of starstruck as he damn near slams into you. Before he even realizes it, a stream of words fall from his lips, every one of them truthful, adoring, and just a little bit incoherent. Your mouth hangs open in silence, unable to even moan as he drills into you at a pace quickly approaching brutal speeds.
"God, y-you feel so much— so much better than I ever expected-hoped-dreamed about, honeybun, and I really mean that, really mean that, you're so— guh, so tight around me, i-it's hard to believe you weren't made to take my cock, you know? You're so hot and wet and tight and I— I-love-you-love-you-love-you oh godddd I love you so much you're so gooooooood~"
If you were able to focus enough to think, let alone speak, you'd probably make some comment about how he's literally fucking you like a rabbit, but it's all you can do to claw desperately at his back, legs locking weakly around his hips as you quiver beneath him. Between the way he's babbling nonsensically to you and the wet slaps filling the room and the charming sloppy-enthusiastic way he's fucking you relentlessly it's almost too much. If you can walk after this, it'll be nothing short of a miracle.
You've been almost silent, practically unable to moan due to the overwhelming bliss from being stretched out so deliciously, but the keen that tears from your throat as the building knot in your stomach finally snaps is loud, nails dragging down his back one last time as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.
There's not really any doubt left in Izuku's mind that he's fucked you stupid, not with your walls fluttering around him, not with your hands desperately moving, searching for something, and he's got an idea of what it is when your hand brushes his tail and yanks, rougher than you have before, hard enough to send him crashing over the edge with you and nearly making his legs give out from the pleasure. 
Izuku's vision blacks out as the pleasure crashes over him, the pair of you riding out your orgasms in tandem as he paints your walls white. You're dizzy as he finally collapses on top of your body, shuddering and not bothering to pull out of you as he rests his cheek against your heaving breasts.
"Holy shit, Izuku," you breathe, hands tangling in his hair as you stare up at your ceiling.
"Now we're even," he says, shaking a bit as he chuckles.
"I hope you know I'm never letting you go." His hair is soft as you nuzzle into it. "Holy shit."
"Aw, am I that good?" he teases, slowly pulling out of you. You whine at the loss. "Shh, it's okay, honeybun. I promise that won't be the last time."
"Thank god," you mumble, playing with his hair lazily. "Go out with me."
"No."
Your hands still, your blood running cold. "Oh."
"You go out with me," he finishes, smiling against you.
You lightly smack the back of his head. "You scared me, dick."
"Is that a yes?"
You go back to playing with his hair. "I guess. But you have to go out with me, too."
"Yes, that's how it works."
"Really?" you retort. "You had me fooled, rejecting me so you could ask me out instead."
"What can I say?" He lifts his head, pushing himself up to plant a soft kiss on your lips. "I wanted to win."
"You could've killed me, Izu," you whine. "You're heavy and then you say no—"
He rolls his eyes, nuzzling into your neck. "You know I could never actually say no to you, right?"
"Oh~? Are you saying you're too in love?" you tease.
He giggles, pressing tiny kisses along your neck. "Yes, I am. I've been in love with you since middle school. Got a problem with it, honeybun?"
"O-oh." Huh.
"What? Got nothin' to say to that?" he teases.
"S-sorry, I'm just... fuck, you're saying I could've had you years ago?" You press a kiss to the top of his head, right between his ears. "I've been in love with you for just as long and this whole time I've just been pining instead of kissing you."
"Pining?" he echoes, rolling off of you with a grunt. He immediately wraps his arms around you to pull you flush with his side, smirking at your little squeak of surprise.
You blush, burying your face in his chest. "Y-yeah, I said it. Pining."
"Tell me more, Honeybun. I'm interested to know exactly what you mean." A large hand drifts up to card through your hair affectionately, and you sigh as you drape your arm over him.
"Izuku," you whine. "It's embarrassing."
"Please, [name]?" 
"...fine," you mumble. "I was always... You were always so sweet and kind and passionate, and in middle school you were cute and I wanted to protect you. But then we got to high school, and oh no he's hot, I guess... I mean, shit, Izu, you got muscles. And scars. I know you don't like them much but they're hot."
"'Hot', huh...?"
You don't have to look at him to note how much he's clearly enjoying this. "Keep making fun of me and you can sleep on the floor tonight."
"That's okay, as long as you're here, too," he replies without missing a beat. "Do you wanna get up and go wash up? I can't imagine all that feels very comfy right now."
You laugh nervously. "I'd love to, but, uh. I still can't feel my legs. I don't think I can walk."
Izuku lets out an affronted gasp as he sits up. "[name]. I'm offended at the implication that I'd make you walk." He pushes himself up. "You wait here, and I'll run you a bath."
"Mm... no," you reply, watching him with subtle amusement. "Run us a bath, Jackrabbit."
He laughs, shooting you a wink. "Anything for you, Honeybun. I'll be right back." 
He rushes off on shaky legs. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles when he returns not even a moment later.
"Hey, [name]?"
"Hm? Could it be that you don't know where my bathroom is?"
He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "Maybe."
You laugh. "Down the hall, first door on your right."
"Right. Gotcha! Thanks, Honeybun. Oh, one more thing?"
"What's that?"
His expression shifts, eyes dripping with fondness as he looks you over. "I love you."
Your heart swells, smile unwittingly stretching your cheeks at the confession. "I love you too, Izuku."
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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years
Text
feelings are fatal (23/24)
pairing: bucky barnes x reader, past steve rogers x reader
word count: 3,018
summary: After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.
chapter warnings: swearing, violence, funeral
masterlist
a/n: this little chapter drop!!!
The funeral was three days later.
You’d taken it upon yourself to stay in the Stark cabin, licking your wounds and mourning the loss of the man you’d spent almost a decade of your life with. You’d mourned losing him before, but this was different.
This was permanent.
There’d be no more chances to go see him in Buffalo. There’d be no more watching him paint in his home studio, seeing the life he built for himself.
You hadn’t seen Bucky since you left the hospital.
You had walked out of Steve’s room, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt like a death march as you had to face his family, had to face Peggy, the daughter that was named after you. “He’s gone,” you’d said, hands trembling. “I…”
“Oh, honey,” Peggy had whispered, moving to hug you as her own pain welled up in her eyes.
“I have to go,” you had insisted as you quickly slipped out of her grasp, speeding down the hall. You’d left the members of your little family in the waiting room, knowing that they’d gotten to talk to him before he’d passed but still feeling so guilty because you were the last one he’d seen. The last one he’d talked to.
You hadn’t even stopped when Bucky and Wanda had called out your name. You had the car keys in your hand, since he’d given them to you at some point in the blur of the day.
You’d left him there.
The pain was unbearable.
You’d spent the past three days at the bottom of a bottle, blasting all the playlists that Tony had saved. At some point, it had switched to a playlist full of old jazz music from the forties.
You’d thrown the bottle against the wall and watched it shatter.
Sweeping it up while absolutely plastered had been… an adventure. You had the bandages on your feet to prove it.
But you’d gotten it all swept up and into the trash before moving onto the next bottle.
You’d turned off your phone after the fourth phone call and the eighteenth text.
But Bucky didn’t show up. He didn’t come banging on your door like you hoped he would, swooping in and kissing you like the prince in a fairytale.
It was monumentally disappointing.
When you arrived at the funeral, you’d thrown the car into park and then sat in the lot outside for at least forty-five minutes. You’d shown up early entirely because you knew that you’d need time to gather the courage to go inside.
You’d had to order a black dress and heels with express shipping, since you hadn’t exactly thought to pack them when you and Bucky had gone on your little vacation and you didn’t really feel like going out to go shopping.
Your mistake.
It had taken a lot of effort to actually shower and do your hair and makeup. Your ankles felt like they’d give out any moment as you slammed the car door shut and headed inside.
“Hello.”
You almost tripped over your own feet as you heard a feminine voice call out to you. “H-Hi,” you said as you finally came face to face with the woman who had your name. “I’m—”
“I know,” she said, before getting a weak laugh. “Me, too. I’ve heard so much about you. My dad… uh… He really, really loved you.”
“Thank you,” you said, voice a little stiff. You hadn’t done much talking the past few days, unless screaming out lyrics counted.
Yeah, it counted.
Sorta.
“Um… H-How is Peggy—I mean, your mom—doing?”
“She’s handling it about as can be expected,” she said with a smile as she glanced to where the Brit in question was. It was strange, seeing the woman that was named after you. She was older than you by a few years, and had a few gray hairs. But she looked so much like the perfect mix of Steve and Peggy… “But dad was getting up there… more so than any other man. They both knew it was coming. I just don’t know if mom will be able to hold on without him much longer.”
Great. Because that’s exactly what you wanted to hear.
“Here, let me introduce my siblings!” She said, calling them over before you could say no.
By the time the actual service started, you’d met far more Rogerses than you had ever wanted to.
It was exhausting. They were all so… kind. Despite everything, despite the fact that you were literally their father’s ex girlfriend, despite the fact that you were the last person their father spoke to before he died, and not his wife.
“My husband, Steve, has always been what his best friend called him. A punk,” Peggy said as she stood up before everyone, letting out a weak laugh as she glanced back at the open casket. “But he was so many things. Brave. Outspoken. Generous. Stubborn…”
Your eyes stayed on her, even though you stopped hearing what she was saying. You didn’t have the energy to listen to a eulogy.
That is, until she said your name.
“Huh?” You said, suddenly on high alert. Some part of you was aware that your team was sitting in the front row, including Bucky. You’d been too busy speaking with Steve’s children to talk to them, not that you minded that. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face them.
“Would you please come up and say a few words?” Peggy asked gently, getting down and holding out her hand to you.
“I…” Fuck. You couldn’t say no. It was a god damn funeral. “Okay,” you said after a long moment, placing your hand in Peggy’s and letting her lead you up to the podium. The sea of people staring at you made your blood run cold, your hands trembling as you gripped the wood. “Um… H-Hi…” You introduced yourself, you voice cracking. “I’ve known Steve… since I was eighteen years old. And we were together for almost a decade.” You snorted, shaking your head as you glanced back at the casket, your heart stopping for a moment when your eyes rested on his face. “I know… most of you are probably wondering why the hell I’m up here. Why the hell anyone would want their husband’s ex girlfriend speaking at their funeral, but uh… Steve helped make me the person I am today.” Your heart was hammering inside of your chest, threatening to break your ribs. “He taught me when to push myself, how to trust my instincts.” Also all things that Bucky taught you. You could feel his seafoam blue gaze on you, pinning you in place. “I know it’s cheesy… But he taught me what it means to do the right thing, even when it means standing up to someone you love and telling them so. He taught me how to keep going even when my world was crumbling.” Your heart was shattering as your eyes met Bucky’s. “He taught me to chase after what I want the most in the world, and to accept nothing but the best.” Tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. “Steve was a bright light in the world, even when he was in his darkest moments.” You gave a watery smile, your hands clammy. “Steve was not the shield, and those of us who knew him personally know that. The shield was Steve. He made it into the symbol that it is. A symbol of what every person can be, what they should be. What we should all aspire to be.” Your throat was starting to close up. “But he was showing us that even before the serum, wasn’t he? Because it doesn’t matter how small you are, or where you come from. You can make the choice everyday to make the world a little better.” Sniffling, you swallowed around the lump in his throat. “And I know I’m rambling, but I really didn’t expect to be speaking here today, so please forgive me, but I just… I never thought he’d die like this. There were hundreds of missions where I thought… this is it. This is where I lose him. I always knew he’d fight until he couldn’t anymore. The fact that he got the honor of passing like he did… what feels like a million years old and surrounded by his loved ones in a hospital… just like any other man… I can’t think of a better happy ending for him.” You took a deep breath. “But there’s someone who should be up here more than me. Someone who knew him from the beginning. From playground to battlefield and beyond, right?”
Bucky’s entire body was trembling as he slowly got to his feet and walked up to the podium. But before you could leave, his hand slipped into yours and squeezed, a silent question being asked.
Stay?
And how could he ever think you’d leave him?
You squeezed his hand back, staying by his side as he slowly started to speak. He spoke about the first time they met, all the fights he broke up.
Until the end of the line.
You guessed it really was the end. The grand finale of a life that wasn’t always easy, but was always worth it.
Watching Steve’s casket being lowered into the ground felt like a hallucination. How could it possibly be real?
The feeling that you’d gotten in the hospital was washing back over you like a tsunami. The overwhelming feeling of despair, of disbelief.
Of anger.
You wanted more time. There wasn’t ever enough time and now he was gone.
You slipped away after the funeral ended, getting into your car and just… driving. You knew you’d eventually make it back to the cabin, but you needed to roll the windows down and just feel the icy cold wind in your hair, on your skin.
Making you feel alive.
When you got back to the cabin, the sun had set, stars twinkling overhead in a brilliance you’d never see in the city.
You held your heels in your hand as you stumbled into the house, tossing them to the side as you headed for the kitchen. “FRIDAY, put on some music,” you said quietly.
“What playlist would you like?”
“Read the room, Fri,” you said simply, sighing as you grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen. She started to play music throughout the house, and you bit your lip as she started to play a blend of your favorites. Mostly Black Pumas and The Teskey Brothers. “Fri, can you turn on the fireplace?”
Warm light filled the living room and kitchen, flickering softly.
You didn’t bother changing as you collapsed onto the fur rug with just your wine and your bottle opener. “Dumb… cork…,” you huffed as you worked to get it open.
You were about halfway through the bottle when you heard a car pull up, followed by the slam of the door. Your mind was fuzzy as you watched the front door open and Bucky walk in. “Hi.”
He stopped in the entryway, still wearing the all black suit he’d donned at the funeral. “Hey,” he breathed out. He couldn’t help but snort as he saw the bottle of wine in your hands. “Yeah… It has been that kind of day, huh?”
When you held it out to him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched his pink lips wrap around the bottle and he took a swig.
Fuck, you had it so bad.
“How are you feeling?” You asked as you watched him stand by the end of the sofa. “It’s been… a rough day.”
“I’ve been better,” he said simply as he took another drink. “But I know I’ll feel better once you and I are speaking again.”
Your heart squeezed inside your chest as your eyes met, your cheeks flushing. “Right… I… I think we were both… frazzled… But I’m so sorry.”
Pain and Misery by The Teskey Brothers started to play over the stereo, filling the house with soothing R&B. It was one of your favorite songs in the whole entire world.
“I've been in love, honey, you know it's true… Was since that day I first laid my eyes on you…”
“Malen’kaya,” he said as he set the bottle on the coffee table, holding out his hand to you. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Could you forgive me for how I acted?”
“Love is a crazy game, baby… It's how I feel… It makes you oh, so high, but it takes so long to heal…”
You nodded after a long moment, slipping your hand into his and squeezing as he tugged you to your feet. “I can. I do,” you said, the wine making your head fill with bubbles.
“So, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone, it's all pain and misery. Honey, please, yeah, yeah… Won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”
Something inside of you clicked back into place as he pulled you close to his chest, the two of you immediately starting to sway. Falling back into step with him was as easy as breathing, you were finding.
Perhaps even easier.
“Sometimes I curse that day of when you came along… I was happy but it's been pain now for so very long… Oh, I'm begging you, honey… Please, won't you stay? 'Cause I been so lonely since you gone away…”
“I don’t like not talking to you,” he said quietly, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Feels so wrong… Like I can’t breathe.”
Funny how you’d just had almost the same thought.
“Everyday is pain… In the end, it's hard to see… Every fateful day is oh, so sad, now that I've lost the best friend that I ever had…”
He was so warm, so comforting. Like a teddy bear.
“I don’t like not talking to you either,” you admitted as you nuzzled closer to him, breathing in the musky scent of his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Can we please never do it again?”
“Honey, please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's all pain and misery…”
He grinned against your forehead, his hand moving from your hip as he slid his arm around your waist to pull you even closer. “I think that can be arranged.”
“Honey, please, whoa please, won't you stay with me? 'Cause since you gone it's pain and misery…”
“Jamie…,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to gather the words you wanted to say.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He asked, resting his head against yours.
“Hey, I'm begging you, honey… Whoa… I want you to love me… Yeah, I want you to love me… I need you so bad…”
“What does this mean?” You asked as the song ended and it shifted to another. “For us, I mean?” You were starting to panic, anxiety welling up in your chest and causing you to word vomit. “Because I can’t do this back and forth, I can’t. I won’t. I won’t survive it. I can’t keep pretending like we’re just friends and that the way you make me feel doesn’t make me… doesn’t make me…”
“Doesn’t make you what?” He asked quietly, not letting you move away from his secure embrace. “Please… Because I can’t keep acting as though you’re not my everything.” He held the back of your head, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. “Please… Please, tell me you love me. Because I…” He rested his forehead against yours, a tear rolling down his cheek. “The love I have for you has rewritten every piece of DNA in my body,” he said. “It’s in my blood, my bones… You are written in my heart, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. And…” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And if you don’t love me the way I love you, that’s just fine. As long as I have you in my life… I’ll be whatever you need.”
“Jamie…,” you said with a weak laugh. You were openly crying, though you weren’t sure when you had started. “Oh, Jamie… Do you really think I could ever not love you?” Your nose nudged against his as you wrapped both of your arms around his neck. “If you don’t kiss me, we’re gonna have a fight.”
The smile that split open his face was blinding. The kiss he planted upon your lips was absolutely filthy. A mess of teeth and tongue and grins and giggles, a tangle of feelings pent up for so long that you were sure you’d never get them all out. You’d spend the rest of your life unraveling all the ways he made you feel, and you’d do it with a smile.
“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” you said as you pressed yourself against him. “I never wanna be without you ever again.”
“You never have to,” he breathed out as he nipped at your lower lip. Without further ado, he reached down and slipped his arm under your thighs. You let out a squeak as he scooped you up, carrying you bridal style up the stairs. “I’m gonna love you so good,” he said with a growl.
You almost hit your head on the door frame as he carried you into the guest bedroom you two were occupying, squealing as he tossed you onto the bed. “Jamie!”
“Yes, malen’kaya?” He asked as he shoved off his suit jacket, toeing off his dress shoes at the same time.
“Nothing,” you said, giggling as you started to strip down, too. “Nothing at all.”
When you two finally finished hours later, the wine had worn off, and he was asleep. You’d curled up on top of his chest, his cool vibranium hand resting on the small of your back, helping you cool off.
“Jamie?” You murmured, testing if he was asleep. When he grunted, you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his flesh hand. “I love you…”
“I love you more, baby.”
339 notes · View notes
nicka-nell · 4 years
Text
Say… Who do you belong to?
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○ Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader, mention of Oikawa ○ Words: 7.675  ○ Genre: Mafia-AU, NSFW, Smut, 18+ ○ Warning: noncon! oral, force, gun play, slightly breath play, violence, slightly manipulation, daddy kink, blood, pain, rape, dark content, 18+, Minors DNI! ○ Note: All characters are grown up! This fic contains dark content! ○ This fic is part of a server collab. The masterlist can be found here 
Prompt: "I wonder what he'd do if he knew you were with me right now."
Summary: You are Oikawa’s most precious treasure. His beloved wife, whom he married a few years ago and with whom he had bought a wonderful house. But what you don’t know is that Oikawa has a lot of debts with a mafia boss, who suddenly pulls you out of your wonderful life and declares you as his victory. You’re husband and wife, so his debts are also yours, which you now have to settle with Ushijima.
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A little sleepy, you turn around a few times in bed. The fine silk sheets have nestled tightly around your body, flattering your contours, while the space next to you is cold and empty.
“Good morning, my precious angel.” The cheerful voice of your husband sounds as you feel the warm, soft lips of Oikawa on your shoulder blade and turn to him with a smile. “Good morning Tooru. Why are you up so early?” The moon is still bright in the sky, while the rest is adorned in darkness.
“I have to leave early today. But I’ll be back tonight, and then I’ll take good care of you.” Winking, he grins and gives you one last kiss before he walks out of your front door. You still don’t lose your smile when you look at the closed door. Because you are happy.
You have wonderful friends, a wonderful husband by your side you married a few years ago, a big house, and hopefully soon children who would make your life perfect.
With quiet music in the background, you stand in the kitchen and prepare Oikawa’s favorite food as you hear the door quietly open. First, you frown and are surprised that Oikawa is there so early, but the closer the steps are to you, the more uncomfortable the feeling in your stomach becomes.
These are not the steps of Oikawa. Besides, it’s two people you hear. Iwaizumi? No, he would always greet you loudly even before he took off his shoes. 
With shaky hands and a racing heartbeat, you reach for a large kitchen knife and hide behind the door. Two tall men, one with light hair and a dark look, the other with red hair and an almost demonic appearance, stand in the room and look around.
“Does this guy have a wife?” Ask one of the two indifferently as he points to the unfinished food. “Looks like there’s got to be a little Oikawa wifey around here somewhere.” The other grins and begins to giggle.
A wonder they haven’t noticed you yet. You could swear that if they turned off the music they could hear your heartbeat. You can’t fight two men this tall, maybe it’s better if you try to escape instead of attacking them. But maybe they are friends of Oikawa who want to surprise him?
But how did they get into your house without a key? Annoyed, the gray-haired man presses his hands to the hip and exposes a shiny metallic object. Your blood is freezing when you realize this object is a weapon.
You have to get out of here, and as if your body understands what you’re trying to tell, your legs are moving. Your ankles are almost white, so tight you hold the knife in your hand to prevent it from falling and making a sound.
Almost arriving at the door, the relief is already painting in your face as the wooden floor below you begins to creak. Your eyes are getting big, and now you know you have to run. But your legs are not fast enough against those of the tall man who pulls you back into the house with a loud shout.
“Who the fuck are you?” The tall man behind you calls while he pulls you to his back. With the knife, you try to attack him but only manage to graze his leg. But it’s enough to let go of you.
“You fucking whore, man!” He yells, his gun pointed at you, but you don’t listen, because you just want to get away. However, you won’t make it to the exit, as a dull sound echoes through the hallway, followed by your body sinking to the ground.
“Tendou… Did you just really knock her out with a pan?” Skeptically he looks at the red-haired man, the hands on his leg with the slight flesh wound. “Yes, of course. What were you gonna do? Shoot her in the leg? Come on, she’s a lady. So don’t disfigure her.” Smirks Tendou, and swings the pan back and forth in his hand.
“So what? We’re supposed to take Oikawa to Ushijima, not some woman.”, “Buuuuut, this isn’t just any woman. That’s Oikawa’s wife, and she’s cute. I’m sure Wakatoshi will like her. Maybe the idiot will pay his debts faster if he knows we have his pretty wifey.” The redhead interrupts him with a broad grin and squats down to lift your flaccid body.
Your head pulsates with pain as you open your eyes and try to straighten up your body. Everything is dark, only a moldy, metallic smell lies in the air. The floor below you feels wet and crumbly. Like you’re on a muddy underground.
Your clothes are already soaked and stink of a mixture of concrete, soil, and moisture. Where are you? In the dark, you grope along the wall until you reach a cold, iron door. From outside, you can hear the voices that you had in your head recently.
Just as you want to lean even closer to the door, you can hear the hinge clicking, how it is snapped up and you land on the floor. “Come with us.” Says the gray-haired man grimly, who now wears an improvised, sloppy bandage around his leg.
Motionless you sit on the floor and look at the two men puzzled before Tendou reaches out to you. “You’ll be fine. So come on.” Your body acts against your mind as you reach for his hand and he pulls you up with a jerk.
You walk up to a huge, imposing mahogany door with golden accents as the fierce man opens it next to you and the three of you enter. Just to meet a man who sits focused at his desk and writes something.
“What do you want, Tendou?” Without even raising his head, his deep voice fills the room. “You know, we didn’t find Oikawa, but we have something much better. His beloved wife.” Tendou hums happily as he steps forward. “Oh? So… What am I supposed to do with a woman? I can’t do anything with that thing.” He hisses indifferently and frowns.
The words ‘I told you’, are written in the face of the gray-haired man as he looks at Tendou, shaking his head. 
“Then you bastards can finally let me go!” You shout to the two men and try to get away from their grips when Ushijima looks up to you in amazement. He does not know whether it is the sound of your voice or this angelic but also fiery charisma, but somehow you seem to have awakened his interest in you. 
Maybe it’s because you belong to Oikawa and don’t belong to him. After all, Oikawa, for reasons inexplicable to Ushijima, hates him. Probably because he could never defeat him and had to admit that he would have taken a better, more successful path if he had gone with Ushijima.
It’s Oikawa who has a lot of debt to Ushijima, not the other way around. So what would happen if he took away the most important thing in his life? He’d have nothing. Right, his world would break in pieces.
But whatever it is, he can’t keep his eyes off yours. “This is Oikawa’s wife?” He finally says and puts the pen out of his hand to stand up and walk in your direction with quiet steps. Now that he’s standing in front of you, a cold shudder runs along your spine.
He is a real appearance as he stands so large and broad in front of you, his eyes sharp as a freshly sharpened knife. With an annoyed sound, he lowers his gaze, his big, cold hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him directly.
Only a few steps separate you from each other and you sense how a masculine, strict cologne flows through your nose. “Yeah, she’s quite pretty, but also cheeky, isn’t she?” Tendou giggles and looks with narrow eyes over to the gray-haired one, who rolls only displeased with the eyes.
With his fingers, he moves your face back and forth, brushes his thumb over your mouth, checks you out, before he lets go of you and looks at his friend and best man Tendou. Shortly after he takes his thumb off your mouth, you feel a metallic unpleasant taste on your tongue. Almost like the taste of fresh gunpowder.
What is all this about? Why are you here and what were they talking about earlier. What is Oikawa involved in? And worst of all, why didn’t he ever tell you? After all, you are his wife. 
“Maybe she’s good for something. Perhaps he’ll pay his debts when he knows his wife is with us.” Ushijima clicks his tongue, turns around, and sits back in his chair. His debts? “Tooru has no debts! We are doing well. We bought a wonderful house!” You respond to him with a trembling voice.
“Oh yes? And how do you think he managed to raise the money for your house? Believe me when I tell you he’s in debt, or not. Apparently, he doesn’t care about you enough to share his dark secret with you.” He says monotonously, looking back at the paper on his desk.
“You’re lying!” your screaming voice sounds, which is provided with a touch of insecurity. Because you don’t want to believe this man. “Hey, don’t yell at our boss like that, you stupid bitch!” You had almost forgotten the gray-haired man when he looked at you grimly and stepped in front of you.
“Don’t call her that, Semi. She must have a name, right?” Even if he still doesn’t look at you, you sense how the question is directed at you. Stubbornly you press your lips together as if you want to signal them that you won’t tell them anything, but then you see Semi moving his hand towards his weapon and open your mouth. “Oikawa…. Oikawa Y/n…” you answer with a little resistance in your voice.
“Good Y/n, Semi will take you to the guest room next to mine and clean you up. Dress her up and then lock the door behind you if you leave her alone.” He just wants to say something about this task because he obviously doesn’t like you, but he stops since he doesn’t want to contradict his boss.
“Come now.” He just hisses annoyed, while he grabs you roughly by the arm and pulls you out of the room, into a spaciously beautiful room, with a large bed and a wonderful wardrobe. Pictures decorate the walls, the light on the ceiling is so bright that you forget to stand in a room without windows.
Violently, Semi puts you in a room connected to yours, so you’re standing in the middle of the bathroom. “Take off your clothes.” You feel his hand in your back pushing you to the shower with a shovel.
“I’m not gonna undress in front of some creepy guy like y-”, “Shut up, little doll! You’re nowhere near the first woman I see naked, so stop acting like that, and start taking your clothes off, or I’ll rip them off of your body!” He stops you loudly and grabs your wrist to pull you against him and roughly tear on your top.
“Stop it!” you roar and bite him in the arm with all your strength. Angry, he shakes you away from himself and wants to pull out his gun when a hand from behind stops him. “Hehe, what’s going on Semi Semi? Are you mad that there are also women who don’t spread their legs when they see you?” Tendou chuckles, who steps out behind Semi’s back.
“You take care of that bitch, I’m gone.” Without even looking in your direction, he turns around and disappears, followed by a loud bang of the wooden door.
“Come on, sit on the bed.” Tendou tries to calm you down and puts himself a piece away from the door frame to let you through. You don’t know why, but he seems to be the nicest one here so far, so you nod and follow his instructions.
Just as he opens his mouth to say something, you hear the door open again, and next to Semi now Ushijima, their boss comes in. Directly, Tendou takes a step away from you and pursues his boss with his eyes, who sits next to you, with a gun in his lap on the bed.
Right away, you start to hold your breath because you’re sure he’s gonna kill you now that you’ve disfigured his colleague. With his free hand, he brushes a strand of hair off your face and clamps it behind your ear to then pull your face in his direction.
“You know, Y/n, I don’t like it when someone attacks my men. No matter how pretty and innocent that person may be. But neither do I like it when my men don’t handle women properly. Believe me when I tell you nothing will happen to you as long as you stick to the words of your master, your daddy. Do as I say, and you and your pretty face are safe with me.” he breathes to you with his deep voice that makes your whole body shudder again.
“Tendou, I’ll leave her to you. Do what Semi couldn’t do. Next time I come back in here, I want her done for me.” are his last words before he leaves you alone in the room with Tendou.
You’re supposed to be ready for him? What is this man up to with you? “Hey, don’t look like a deer in the headlight.”  Tendou’s laughing voice gets you out of your mind. Humming he moves towards the cabinet and opens it to push the hangers back and forth. “I think this should fit you.” Happily, he turns to you and holds a beautiful set of lingerie in his hands, purple fine lace, with black leather straps and a short silk gown.
You’d think it’s beautiful if you knew you were wearing it for Oikawa, but you’re supposed to be wearing it for another man? Now you can also guess what Ushijima meant when he said you should be ready for him.
Suddenly your eyes fill with tears and before you know it, these are caught by Tendou’s thumbs. “You heard Wakatoshi, you’ll be fine as long as you do what he wants. Believe me, he would never hurt you. He’s a good man, so come with me. I’ll give you a nice warm bath, leave the door open, and wait for you in the bedroom.” He smiles and brings the clothes to the bathroom.
The water comes out loud from the tap and fills the bathtub as you walk carefully towards Tendou. “Why are you being so nice to me?” You want to know from him. “I have no reason to be mean to you.” You hear his voice and how he checks with his finger if the water temperature is good. “The water’s good, so clean up and put your clothes in the hamper over there, the maid will take the laundry and clean it so you can get it back. I’ll wait outside.” 
As he said, he leaves the bathroom door open but doesn’t look your way. Thoughtfully you look at the lingerie and after a few moments get out of your wet, musty clothes to get into the warm water. The warm water kisses your body, your eyes get heavier and before you know it, you close your eyes and listen to the sparkling foam.
Uncomfortable you go into the bedroom, even if you find yourself beautiful in this lingerie and it fits surprisingly well as if it was made for you. But knowing that another man sees you as your beloved husband makes you want to throw up.
“If you get hungry, knock on the door. If Wakatoshi is not in your room, I’ll be in front of it. Water is next to your bed. Well, I’ll see you then.” Without even looking in your direction, Tendou says goodbye to you and leaves you alone in the room.
Shortly after you hear the door closing, you look around hastily to see if you have a chance to escape in this windowless room. Next to the bathroom door and the front door, there’s another door that leads to a room you don’t know. But of course, this door is locked, so you are looking for an item that may help you escape. Even here, in vain.
Crying, you crawl into a corner and slump on the floor, knees tightly pulled to your chest. Why didn’t Oikawa ever tell you anything? Why didn’t he trust you? Could it be that this man was right and you weren’t enough for Oikawa? No, it can’t be!
You don’t know how much time has passed since only this ceiling light illuminates the room. But the clicking of the door makes you twitch. Tired, you lift your head and see blurred, how a large, strong person enters the room. Ushijima Wakatoshi.
He sits down in front of you, looking into your swollen face as he presses a cold metallic object against your chin and makes you look into his eyes. “Ah, ah baby girl, look what you’ve done with your pretty face. It’s all swollen up.” Full of fear but also hate you look him in his dark olive eyes. He’s a handsome man, yet you hate him for taking you away from your husband.
“You don’t have to look at me like that. It’s your husband’s fault you’re here now, not with him. But don’t worry, you’ll soon think of other things than your husband. The bed, lie on it!” He commands bossy, and quickly straightened up.
But you just shake your head. “Don’t be silly, baby girl.” His deep voice enters your ears, and even before you can open your mouth, you feel the chilly opening of his weapon lying on your temple.
Instinctively, your eyes fill with new tears running warmly down your cheeks, and your body moves against your will to crawl on the bed. “Please, I didn’t do anything.” You beg him because you just want to get out of here.
But he gives you no answer, just looks at you with his indifferent look, the gun in his hand at all times, while he gradually lets his clothes slide to the ground. Freed from his clothes, he stands before you, a few scars drawing his perfect muscular skin.
Even though you’ve been crying all the time, your eyes only burn more when you see how huge his member is, which still hangs flaccidly between his legs. It’s not even erect, yet you know it would never fit into you without hurting you.
Sobbing, you look from this massive thing between his legs up into his eyes that send out anything but warmth and ask him to let you go. “Stop talking so much. Use your sweet mouth and suck on my cock just like it should be for a good baby girl. Show your daddy that you’re worth treating you well.” 
His words make your stomach twist, you get unwell as you look at him in disgust. But it was stupid of you to think that you could defend yourself against such a tall, strong man. Because just as you’re trying to shake your head, you feel his cold hand burying itself in your hair and pulling you roughly forward, the other hand with the gun to your temple.
“Suck it!” His patience has disappeared when he angrily gives you this command, presses his limb literally into your whiny face. Afraid to hear the trigger go off, you open your mouth and start to put his cock in your trembling mouth.
You just have the tip in, when you realize that it is much too big for you so that you’re about to throw up. Fearing for your life, you still try to stick it in, but quickly realize that you are beginning to choke and fresh tears appear in the corners of your eyes. 
“Oh? Does your beloved Oikawa have such a tiny cock or why would you have problems with gagging after not even half of my dick?” His words are accompanied by a deep, barely audible laughter as he plunges his limb into your mouth with a jerk and makes you open your eyes full of pain and shock.
Reflexively, you support your hands against his thighs and try to prevent him from pushing his dick even deeper into your throat. His hand buried in your hair moves your head back and forth.
The only sound you hear is your sniffing, your swallowing, and the increasingly audible groan of Ushijima, whose cock grows painfully fast in your mouth and makes you gag every time its tip kisses your palate.
“Your mouth does it so well, it takes my length so well. Let’s see if you can absorb and swallow daddy’s sperm as good.” He mutters one last time before he presses his limb full strength into your throat and colors it white.
Next to his dick, which still twitches in your throat, you feel the warm sperm, running thickly down your inside. Just when he hears you swallow his cum, he pulls his cock out of you and takes his hand off the back of your head.
Only a mixture of sperm and saliva binds you together before this thread tears and sticks to your chin. You look so cute, lying on the bed in his favorite lingerie, adorned with his cum, and looking at him like a lost puppy. 
But this wonderful view does not remain for long, because you turn around against his command and want to crawl away from him.
You want to get away from the man who used you as a toy for his desires. You feel disgusting, used. But again, you have to admit to yourself that you’re stupid, for just following your will.
Suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist and jerk you backward. As if you are smashed against a wall, your body lands on Ushijima’s chest. “Where are you going huh?” His husky voice is dangerously close to your ear as you feel his hand crawling under the silk coat and caressing the outline of your body.
“Oh? You don’t think that satisfies me, do you? Oikawa has a lot of debts. You’re husband and wife, so it’s your debt too. So if he can’t pay the debt, I guess you’ll have to take them over.” He adds indifferently as he pins you down on the bed, his chest still on your back so that you are prevented from fleeing. “Please, I don’t want to, I’m scared.” You sniff under him and keep squeezing your legs together, afraid of what’s about to happen to you.
“Don’t be scared, baby girl. I’ll make it fit.” It’s not just the gun you feel cold on your spine. No, you also feel Ushijima’s stiff cock on your back, as it painfully reminds you that everything that happens now will be unpleasant.
You just hated Oikawa for not telling you about the debt and getting you into this situation, even though you still love him. But how could he do this to you? Just leave you to a mob boss who will do what he wants with you or shoot you if you don’t obey him.
You feel his legs on your inner thighs and how they spread them with force, so that Ushijima can get better access to your most sensitive body part. With pleasure, he licks his lips as he begins to knead your ass and slowly work his way up to your walls.
“No, please…” You whine when you feel his fingers on your skin as they try to break up your walls to get into your entrance. Calmly, he savors your soft skin as he goes up and down, exerting pressure on your clit to then get back to your entrance to check if you are getting wet by now.
But to his dismay, you’re not. You try to prevent your body from feeling good, which is not difficult for you, as you are forced to do so, and besides this man is not someone you love. “How unsatisfying.” He just hisses displeased, takes his hand off you, and lifts his chest slightly, so that you take the opportunity to tear yourself away from him and crawl away.
In vain, because aggressively he pins you back on the bed now fully in rage, and constricts the air to breathe away, from behind. It’s almost as if he knows exactly when your lungs are starting to hurt and your vision becomes unclear when he reduces the pressure on your neck and after a few seconds his big hand loops around your tender neck like a snake. 
“Now I’ve had enough of you! I’ve told you I’m good to you as long as you follow my orders but apparently I have to show you where your place is!” He calls to you angry and presses with force his rock hard, massive cock into your dry entrance.
“Ahhh stop!” You scream in pain as you feel this thing aggressively getting in and making everything in you pound. Everything in you burns, contracts, pulsates, and hurts extremely. You have the feeling that he tears your womb into pieces and senses an unpleasant wet feeling spreading between your legs.
You know it’s not your juices, rather your blood, which promotes Ushijimas movements and helps him to penetrate deeper and more aggressively.
"Look what we did to you, if you’d listened to me, this would have been different.” You hear his strained voice behind you, as it makes you understand that here you are nothing but just a toy for him, which should obey him.
And you have to admit that if you want to get out of here alive with no pain, no visible wounds, you have to do what he tells you to do. Crying, you admit that your body is being used by a man other than your husband.
“You do it well, don’t fight back baby girl.” He praises you as his movements get sloppy and he pulls his cock out of you to spread his warm cum on your back. He proudly looks at his masterpiece before he takes a handkerchief from the nightstand and cleans himself.
Relief draws your face. While all of this seems to be over for today, even if everything in your body continues to hurt. Yet you remain anxiously lying down, as you do not dare to move and be used again by him.
But to your astonishment, you feel incredibly soft, warm lips on your shoulder blade lingering lovingly for a moment before they let go of you just to then caress your arm afterward. “You know, it doesn’t have to be like this if you don’t fight back.”, “Leave me alone!” Your voice is dull under the blanket.
“Well… until then Y/n.” One last time you feel his warm lips on your arm, as only a few seconds later you hear the door closing. Irritated, you turn around, only to find out that Ushijima is no longer there.
Deep breathing, straightening up, you pull your legs closer to your upper body and bury your head inside them.
“You know, Wakatoshi is actually a very great man.” All of a sudden you hear a voice that strangely gives you a sense of security, followed by a soft, slightly damp towel that gently moves over your back. 
With your eyes still slightly closed, you look aside to find Tendou looking at you with a wide smile and cleaning your body without even looking at your most feminine parts.
“You should be grateful he found something in you. Normally, he would take pieces of body parts from you. First a strand of hair, a finger, your tongue… Something every day until Oikawa pays his debts. But you seem to be an exception here. So don’t blame him for your husband getting you into this.” Even though his words are anything but reassuring, it is his look and tenderness with which he helps you get up into the bathroom.
"Do you understand how good he is? He lets you sleep here in a great room instead of locking you down in the dark basement. So be a good girl and listen to your new friend Tendou." He whispers in your ear with a slim grin, just before he leaves the room.
Still shaking, you let the warm water splash over your body, trying somehow to wash yourself clean and think about Tendou’s words. Somehow he is right, after all, it’s not Ushijimas fault. Oikawa is the one who lied to you, not him. Still, he didn’t treat you very kindly.
Completely torn back and forth, you go back to the bedroom, where Tendou has already re-made the bed and waits for you with a drink. “What is this, Tendou?” You ask him confused while he reaches out to you.
“Just a tea, that makes you sleep well.” He smiles and waits for you to drink the delicious-tasting tea. “Lie down, I’ll see you tomorrow.” With these words, he says goodbye and leaves you alone in the room.
You notice how your eyes get heavier, your thoughts blurred and how you suddenly collapse on the bed and fall asleep.
The next few weeks are just like your first day here. You don’t know if Ushijima enters the room every day to sleep with you or if he does it several times a day or just every few days because you don’t have a sense of time anymore.
No matter how many times you have to think of Tendou’s words, in the end, you try to defend yourself, and again everything hurts in retrospect. However, you hate your husband every day more for what he did to you and therefore feel increasingly connected to Ushijima.
It’s probably also Tendou’s words that subconsciously manipulate you. How precious you are to Ushijima. That everyone can see it and you will see and understand it as well when you finally give yourself to him.
Forget your scheming husband, who abandoned you. 'Cause, only Ushijima would be the man to please and protect you. 
Yes, it was Tendous words… Because the last time Ushijima sleeps with you, you notice how your body builds up less resistance. Ushijima knows it won’t take long before he owns you until you belong to him and not Oikawa.
Today you wear his favorite lingerie, the one in which he likes you in so much, in which he looks at you hungrily.
You’re just waiting for Ushijima to enter the room and do what he usually does to you. And when he finally enters the room, undressing wordlessly, as you go straight to your knees without resistance to take his cock in your mouth, he knows exactly that he has broken your will.
A barely visible grin draws the corner of his mouth before he approaches you and looks down into your eyes from above. “Get up. Not today.” Are the only words that come out of him while you look at him puzzled when he pulls you up by your hair. “Come with me.” He adds and points to the door, where you have asked yourself until now where this leads only to find out that this guides exactly to his bedroom.
A huge room with ground-level windows that provide a view of the snow-covered forest and a frozen river illuminate the room in an almost romantic atmosphere. It looks like the sun is about to set because the darkness is slowly coming out.
In the room is expensive furniture, a huge king-size bed, with gray-golden silk sheets. It looks so incredibly soft and the rest of the room just leaves you amazed, standing on a spot, until you feel a hand on your back moving you towards the bed.
You can feel his cold fingertips skilfully opening your bra and sliding down to the floor along your body, followed by your panties kissing the floor just seconds later. With a push, he shoves you onto his bed, which catches your body with ease and looks at you with fiery eyes.
“What do you think? Do we need it today?” His lust-filled voice resounds as he holds his cold weapon against your nipple and stares at you as he slowly strolls down to your entrance with the weapon and lingers there.
A feeling that you previously only knew at Oikawa, spreads within you. You sense the area between your legs getting wet from the cold metal, from Ushijima’s look when you pinch them together and a shudder runs along your spine.
With glowing cheeks you playfully bite your lower lip and shake your head embarrassed, your eyes focused on Ushijima’s. You don’t miss his quiet laughter when he looks into your beautiful, scattered face and knows exactly that you squeeze your legs together because you are only excited by the touch of his weapon.
That’s exactly what he wants to see, his baby girl begging for him and his cock, which only wants him and no one else. Not even her beloved husband Oikawa. Without you having to touch his cock, it grows along with the thought of making you his woman.
He would have liked to see Oikawa’s face when his beloved wife knelt for his rival without resistance, only to suck on his cock and milk him. But it is even better to know that you got involved with Ushijima, that you understand that you are his and he can take care of you much better than Oikawa.
He proudly puts the gun on his nightstand and pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed to suck fervently on the inside of your thighs, to kiss them, and to work himself down to your entrance. 
His touches are like a drug for you, you can’t and won’t get enough of them. From these kisses that tell you he’s proud to have you. When you feel his breath on your wet walls, you shrug briefly and tilt your pelvis down. “Ushijima, that feels so good.” You moan softly and tilt your head backward as you startle with a slap on your sensitive walls.
“Ah, ah… Are you trying to be naughty again? Have you forgotten what to call me?” He hisses in a husky voice as his olive eyes come up between your legs and stare at you. “D- Daddy… Sorry, daddy…” you correct yourself and wait for the praise of Ushijima. “That’s my good baby girl.” He answers you with a grin and turns back to your walls.
His eyes are on your face as he circles his fingers around your entrance, slowly enveloping them with your juice, and watching you groan with the feeling of having his index and ring finger in you, the thumb on your clit to give you a benevolent feeling there as well.
“Daddy you’re so good to me!” You groan as you feel his fingers explore your walls and bend to meet exactly the right spot. How your cheeks gain even more warmth, your nipples become stiff and your body moves willingly, drives him crazy.
He still moves his fingers in you before he replaces his thumb with his lips and sucks on your clit, licks over it, blows against it, and starts sucking it again. “Come for me baby girl.” His voice vibrates on your skin as you feel the knot loosen inside you, your legs start to shake while squeezing his head, and your eyes roll backward. “Damn it, daddy I’m coming.” You groan as you push your pelvis further to Ushijima and cover his lips with your juice.
Without changing his expressions, he licks your delicious juice off your lips and pulls his fingers out of you just to leave a bitter void in you. He carefully inspects his fingers, which shine in the yellowish light of the lamp, and looks down at you as you lie out of breath with an open mouth in front of him, legs still shaking, beautiful for him to look at. 
“Suck on them, clean them up! Do what your daddy tells you to do.” You can feel his deep voice on your neck and how he puts his fingers in your mouth. Reflexively, you seek contact with his eyes as you begin to wrap your tongue around his fingers and suck loudly at them.
His gaze is razor-sharp as his olive-colored eyes look at you and enjoy the sight. “Tell me, baby girl, do you want my cock in you? Do you deserve it?” He wants to know from you while his fingers leave your mouth with a loud plop.
"Yes daddy, please give me your cock!" You’re begging him. This desire to absorb his length fully in you is so huge. Which only makes Ushijima happier, and makes him enter inside you piece by piece. 
Unlike the weeks before, he is so careful and gentle, making sure you don’t have any pain. "Nnngh…" You groan as you feel every vein of its length painfully spreading your inner walls. But the pain is different than usual, it is pleasant in an odd way. 
"Are you in pain baby girl? Shall I stop?" he asks rhetorically because he knows you don’t want him to leave a void in you again. 
"No, please! I want to feel your whole dick in my cunt daddy!" You say weeping and reach for his upper arms to stop him from going away from you.
Lovingly his arms wrap around your waist and pull you up so that he can get your delicate body just with one arm, holding you in the air, while his cock enters deeper into you. 
A prick spreads in your abdomen while you pinch your eyes together and bite your lip. "Nngh daddy your dick is too big…", "Oh? Too big for my pretty baby girl huh?" Interrupts his deep voice, just before he lays you gently on the bed and then squats in front of your entrance.
He gently caresses your legs before he spreads them with a little pressure, lifts them with his hands at your ankles, and presses his body against them to enter you with a loud murmur. 
Through this new angle, and by opening your legs so wide, his cock can enter you much more easily. He needs a few thrusts until his dick is wrapped in your juice and smoothly kisses your inner walls. 
With slim eyes he watches you as your breasts move up and down, his limb sinks into your sweet pussy, you lay awkwardly under him, not knowing where to put your body and the lustful feelings that want to get out of you. A sight that satisfies him incredibly and makes his member twitch in you. "Look, you are such a beautiful baby girl for me."
Even if you think it’s great that Ushijima praises you so much and gently touches your body, you want him to get rough and aggressive again. Because strangely enough, you have to admit that you find his rough nature as attractive and masculine and how he controls you.
"Ahh I want everything from you, show me you’re my strong daddy." You whine while tilting your head backward. "Oh? You want me to be rough with you? Well…" You hear his astonished deep voice as he begins to enter you faster and deeper.
"Nnngh so good, so good." You groan loudly at his sloppy, more aggressive thrusts, and feel his balls clap against your skin at every thrust. 
"Tell me how good it feels to have my dick inside of you Y/n." his husky voice sounds through the room, accompanied by the damp sound of your skin coming together. 
"So good daddy! Your massive cock feels so good in me, there’s no one who can fill me as perfectly as you!" You purr and push your pelvis deeper into the duvet to feel his limb even better in you.
With each powerful thrust, he hits just the right spot in you that takes you to the edge of your climax. 
"I wonder what he'd do if he knew you were with me right now." With a lustful look, he faces you while these words leave his mouth.
For a moment your eyes widen in panic because you have completely forgotten your husband. But what kind of husband is he, if he leaves you alone for weeks. 
"Tell me, baby girl, what would you do if he knew that you were with me and so willingly give yourself into me? Admitting that only I can really satisfy your needs, huh?" Hungry, his hand wanders from your ankle down to your neck and presses it lightly.
His big hand adorns your neck so beautifully. This feeling of power that is spreading within him, leads him to distribute his load within you soon. “I… don’t know…” You answer him, torn back and forth, since you would never want to see how broken and hurt Oikawa would be if he saw you with another man. But on the other hand, he abandoned you, lied to you, and Ushijima was the one who cared for you and didn’t kill you for the debts Oikawa has on him.
“I don’t think Oikawa would be so happy to see us here, huh? The way you so wonderfully wrap and squeeze around my cock. That feels so good baby girl. So tell me, who makes you happy? Who can make you orgasm?” He wants to know while he’s fucking your brains out.
You don’t know what to say anymore, you just know that your whole body is burning with lust, that this knot that has newly formed is tightening up harder as you know exactly that you will come any moment.
“Who, give me the name that makes you happy! I won’t let you come before you answer me.” Demands Ushijima, when even before he can finish his sentence you call his name. “Ushijima!”, “The whole name!” he orders again while slapping your breast, and again his name comes out under your trembling voice. “Ushijima Wakatoshi!” you cry out. 
“My name sounds so wonderful when you say it so needy. I’m going to shoot my cum so deep into your womb that you’re carrying my fucking kid Y/n Oikawa, or should I call you Y/n Ushijima from now on?” His voice is also getting throaty as his movements get harder so that you can’t hold back your voice any longer. 
Your walls contract and the knot in you, just like your mouth loosens and makes you roll your eyes backward in an incredibly benevolent desire.“Haaah Ushijima! I’m coming!” 
“Come for your daddy baby girl!” He growls almost animalistic as he accelerates his movements and presses his thick sperm into you with a loud moan. Out of breath, he collapses on you, his cock still twitches in you and remains there, so that his sperm stays in you.
Sweat drips down his temple, his skin sticks to yours, as you feel his breath loud and restless in the crook of your neck. The room, which had smelled so fresh earlier, now smells of sweat and sperm.
You feel so good with his warm body on top of you, his soft hair tickling your neck, and the loving kisses he spreads on your body while leaving little hickeys, to mark you as his.
But what you don’t notice is that Tendou, Semi, and especially Oikawa are standing in the door frame. Broken, his face dressed in tears he looks at you. His mouth glued with tape he tries to pull himself out of the clutches of the two men holding him. To get to you, to his most beloved precious wife, to tear you away from this monster. In vain.
But unlike you, Ushijima knew that Oikawa had been standing in the door for several minutes and watched him fuck his beloved woman. Taking the most important thing in his life will pay off any debt he owes. Having such a beautiful woman by his side is better than any money he can get.
“Get him down to the basement... and take the ring off of him. Because there’s no husband and wife Oikawa anymore. Y/n belongs to me… You’ll be a Ushijima soon.” His cold voice lies in the air as he reaches for your hand, pulls off the ring, and kisses you on the now-empty ring spot, his olive-colored eyes fixed on yours the whole time.
For a moment, you think you need to cry now that you know Oikawa’s heart has been shattered into thousands of pieces. However, these tears do not come. Without even looking at him, Oikawa is taken away by the men. 
Lost in your thoughts, you rub your thumb over the empty ring spot. But even before you can think about anything, Ushijima’s fingers make sure that you look him directly into the suddenly so warm eyes. 
“Y/n… You don’t have to be afraid anymore. No one will touch or hurt you, I’ll make sure of it. You belong with me now, my pretty baby girl.” His last words are so quiet that you can hardly understand them before he bends forward to give you a warm kiss that is full of love and passion, for the first time. “My pretty girl.” 
You don’t know if you would feel guilty if you looked Oikawa in the eye, or hate, or even feel nothing. But you know one thing…
You’re not Y/n Oikawa anymore.
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day 3: "insults"
Zetian came back to their chambers an hour earlier than she was supposed to, and the black-winged line of her lashes couldn’t quite hide the red rims beneath. She was sitting stiff and straight in her wheelchair, the way that Yizhi had learned to read as a kind of pain, like an arm tensed thoughtlessly to protect a bruise. And—he noticed it with some alarm—her golden robes, laid carefully out over her legs with his own hands, were spotted here and there with blood. There was some on her knuckles, spotting her right sleeve, and she held her hand delicately in her lap, as if it hurt her.
“Zetian?” he was already asking, concerned, as the door swung shut behind her. “Are you all right? Did something happen?”
“I’m fine,” Zetian said, and buried her face in her hands.
Yizhi crossed the room in a rush, and knelt in front of her, so that he could look up at her face and her hands. One, her right hand, was bruised, two of the knuckles split, as if she had punched something with enough force to break skin. He didn’t think she was crying, but her hands trembled, just faintly, as she lifted them, briefly, and closed her fists against her face.
“Zetian,” Yizhi said again, reaching up toward her hands. He caught her right hand in both of his, avoiding the worst of the bruising, and tried to gently pull it down. She resisted for a moment, then caved, all at once, letting her fist fall open so that Yizhi could rest her palm on his and get a look at the damage. “Zetian. What happened? Did someone do this to you?”
“No,” Zetian said, voice very flat. Her eyes were closed, and her left hand was pressing against the crease between her brows without regard for the formal makeup on her face. She had been due to give a speech this morning, and it had gone off without a hitch, his steel-eyed Empress the perfect combination of untouchable magnificence and cold, mortal ruthlessness. Yizhi had kissed her hands and told her as much, and she had scoffed, pinched his arm, and told him to go do his job instead of doting on her like the protagonist in some saccharine romance. He had chuckled, and she had smiled, and they had parted ways with one more affectionate kiss to her knuckles. She had seemed—not fine, she hadn’t been fine in a while, but she had been clear-eyed and sure. That had been maybe six hours ago.
“Come with me,” Yizhi said, standing slowly and keeping a light hold of her hand, cradled in his palms like a wounded thing. “I’ll wash your hand off, and we can get you into some clean clothes, okay?”
Zetian opened her eyes, staring at their joined hands like she wasn’t seeing them, and reached out with her left hand to touch her split knuckles, investigating. Yizhi closed his hands over her injured right, frowning protectively, and Zetian pulled back, blinking at the half-dried blood on her fingertips.
“I punched a wall,” she said neutrally.
Yizhi blinked himself, twice, and then said, just as neutral, “Okay.”
She was fingering at the blood on her right sleeve, now. There was some paint coming off her hand onto the fabric, the vermillion of her huadian smudged on her forehead and the heel of her thumb. She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in the act of rubbing the gold, heavily embroidered silk between her fingers.
“Zetian,” Yizhi repeated, softly, and crouched back down so that he could look up into her face again. “Please, tell me what happened.”
Zetian took a breath, a long, shuddering thing, and let it out in a weary gust.
“I—was trying to avoid—people for a little while,” she said, halting. “So I was in—the study. The big window, with the curtain.”
Yizhi nodded. He knew the one she meant—there was a deep window ledge, made up with cushions and a blanket, so that someone might sit there comfortably for a while. If that person was, say, an Empress in need of a moment to herself, the curtain could be closed to mostly conceal the window ledge and the person inside.
“I heard a pair of maids come in. I should have told them I was there, but I didn’t want to deal with the—everything.” Zetian made a communicative gesture to indicate the nervous prostrations and scraping that most of the servants directed toward her. She unapologetically relished the same behavior from the more insufferable upper class, but it made her uneasy to face it from those who had once been her peers. “So I stayed quiet. I left my wheelchair at the desk. I don’t think—I guess they thought it was supposed to be there.”
She paused there, tongue touching her front teeth, breathing. Her gaze was fixed on some nowhere place over Yizhi’s shoulder, and the lines of her face were hard, angry, but also oddly uncertain. Yizhi didn’t move, just waited, holding onto her injured hand.
After a moment, Zetian stirred again, and said, “I heard them—talking. About…”
She didn’t finish, but then, she didn’t need to.
Yizhi had loved Zetian for a long time, now that he let himself think about it. He had thought, somewhat ashamed of himself for his favoritism, that losing anyone else would be easy, as long as she was with him.
It had not been easy.
They didn’t dare to say his name during daylight hours, unsure of how the raw wound would show itself, too afraid to let anyone else see the depth of their loss. They were both as defensive as lost children, unwilling to let an outsider even look at their hurts, let alone try to touch them. Instead, Zetian and Yizhi curled together and talked in whispers, in the dark, and hid their bloody hearts in each other’s hands.
“Oh,” Yizhi said, quietly. “They—what did they say?”
Zetian’s eyes snapped to his, and all the confused distance was gone, leaving a flame that burned white in its place. Her meridians stirred, he could feel them through his touch at her wrist, and the simple spirit metal headpiece she wore in daily business glimmered as if it was under a brilliant light.
“They said,” she said, a deadly hiss, “that the best thing he ever did was die. They said that he had nothing worth living for. They said,” she went on, voice getting louder, “that he was a murderer, and an animal, and a stupid one at that, too stupid to run for his life. They said that he—he probably raped all his concubine pilots, and they must have been grateful to die just to get away from him, and that I abandoned him to die in the Bird, and that I was right. They said that I was a hero for leaving him behind!”
Zetian was shouting now, almost screaming, throat raw and eyes red and running with the force of her anger. She had reversed Yizhi’s grip on her right hand, and now she was clutching him so tightly it hurt, grinding the bones together, while her left hand was clawed in the cloth of her robe, twisted, knuckles standing out pale against her skin.
“They said that I haven’t held a funeral for him because he didn’t deserve to be remembered—that he killed his whole family and he should have just—”
She stopped, choking on her words, as if she was forcing them out through a stranglehold. Then she spat, “They said that he should have just let the army shoot him, and then all his concubine pilots would still be alive, and we’d all be a lot better off.”
Zetian was shaking, her whole body vibrating under Yizhi’s grip, so that she looked almost like he had, shuddering while his system fought to survive withdrawal. She was crying properly now, ragged sobs of rage and grief, and that awful look of lost, helpless confusion was back beneath it all, and Yizhi—
Yizhi didn’t know what to do to make her feel better, because he was feeling a sudden upswell of sympathy for Zetian’s decision to punch a wall.
He wanted to punch a wall, too. Or, even better, he wanted to go down to the security office and demand every surveillance video from the entire building, and go over them with a fine-toothed comb to find everyone who had ever spoken a single one of those thoughts aloud. Then he could deliver them all up to Zetian on a silver platter, and maybe that would make the glaring emptiness, where they had all-too-quickly come to depend on another person, less painful.
“We haven’t held a funeral because we don’t know he’s dead,” Yizhi finally said. His voice was weak, fragile-sounding, and he realized when he spoke that he was crying too. Not Zetian’s wracking sobs, but a steady trickle that dripped from his jaw and clogged his throat.
“I told him that!” Zetian said, the words torn out of her chest. She was curled over in her chair, clinging to Yizhi like he was the last hope of rescue after a shipwreck, and crying almost into her knees, hand pressed over her mouth. “I said that right to his face, I said that he should have just taken a bullet rather than let them force him into piloting! I said—I said he had nothing worth living for, and those girls had everything, and he should have died rather than—and he agreed with me! He agreed with me, and then he—and then—”
Yizhi gave up on grace and pulled Zetian bodily out of her chair, into his lap on the floor. He wasn’t big enough for it to be comfortable, for either of them—his shoulders too narrow, his limbs too delicate—but she didn’t hesitate to follow his lead. She pressed her face into his shoulder and he fisted one hand in her robes, and felt her take a great shuddering gasp of air, every fiber taut and shivering with emotion.
“I told him,” she said into his robes, as if confessing a capital crime, “that if he was going to rape me, he should at least be honest about it. I didn’t say it like that, but he knew—he knew.”
Yizhi closed his eyes, resting his cheek on her hair, and felt his own breathing hitch. Zetian kept talking, like she couldn’t stop the flow of words now that she had started.
“What if he—what if he thought I still thought of him like that? What if he saved me because he thought—he thought that he was worthless, or a monster, or that we’d be better off? What if—”
“Stop,” Yizhi said, barely a whisper. He wasn’t even sure Zetian could hear him, over her own voice, her own guilt. But she stopped, and just sat and shivered in his arms.
Yizhi took a moment to breathe, her headpiece digging into his temple as he tried to find words.
“He saved us,” Yizhi finally said, slow and careful, “because he wanted us to live. Because he loved us. We can’t—it’s not fair to him, to spend all our time trying to decide if he loved us because he hated himself. That won’t—it won’t help us. And it won’t help him.”
“I was so awful to him,” Zetian said.
“Well,” Yizhi said, managing a brittle laugh through his tears, “sometimes you’re awful. Sometimes he was too. And me, every now and then. What matters is that we try to fix it.”
Yizhi shifted his weight, and carefully lowered both of them down onto the carpet, curled up on their sides, face-to-face. Zetian’s makeup was ruined, her blotchy flush showing through, and he was sure he didn’t look much better. He thought, for a moment, about how they had slept curled up like this the night before the attack on Zhou province. But then, they had been framing another body between them, hands lightly linked over his abdomen, his hands touching them hesitantly every once in a while, anxiously, as if he thought they might disappear.
Now, in the Empress’ quarters, they laid there together on the floor. The light outside the window began to darken, and Zetian’s tears dried, leaving her makeup smeared in ghoulish streaks down her face, and Yizhi kept holding her injured right hand to his chest.
Yizhi didn’t know how long they had been laying there when Zetian spoke, quietly, her voice clear and her eyes closed.
“I miss him.”
“Me too,” Yizhi whispered.
“I want to find those maids and kill them.”
“Me too.”
“We probably shouldn’t do that.”
“No. I could have them reprimanded, though.”
“Do that.”
“Okay,” Yizhi said, and bent his head to kiss the tips of her fingers. “If you let me clean your hand.”
“Okay,” Zetian said. “In a little while.”
64 notes · View notes
no-pucks-given · 3 years
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ANTHONY BEAUVILLIER | THE WAY BACK HOME
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A/N: Honestly the amount of excitement I received from people when I told them what I’m working on has been amazing. From brainstorming in the middle of the night to finding ‘the perfect sentence’ during dinner, it’s been one hell of a ride together. So thank you to anyone who shared my excitement over this story. I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I did!   
Warnings: Angst, a lot of tears, some swearwords, soft Tito.
Word Count: 5.8K
They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. They say time will heal all wounds. They say all kinds of things, but you know deep down they aren’t true, it isn’t that easy. Your chest still tightens almost painfully every time his name comes up, every time you hear something, anything about him. It hurts, even after all these years apart.
It wasn’t a mutual decision to break things off, it was your decision. A decision that until this day is the hardest one you ever made, still doubting if you made the right choice. It seemed like the most logical solution, break things off with Anthony so you can see more of the world. Anthony was already drafted, playing his ass off in the league to prove himself. You didn’t and couldn’t ask him to give that up, it was his dream. Just like it was your dream to travel the world and see all the amazing things this planet had to offer.  
You can remember the conversation you had with Anthony word by word. It still haunts you, it still makes unwanted appearances in your dreams, nightmares, everywhere. He begged you, oh he begged you to stay, to try long distance, to try anything except breaking up. You cried, trying to get him to see your point, trying to convince him letting go was the right option, even though you weren’t truly convinced yourself.
It was the hardest thing you ever did, leaving both of you heartbroken. His face, swollen eyes, tears streaming down his face still make you tear up whenever it pops back into your mind. Opening the door of your apartment and closing it behind you broke you. Leaving behind the guy you were hopelessly in love with, the guy you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, your soulmate, it was an experience you don’t wish upon anyone. It wrecked you, closing the door, not only to your apartment, but also to him, to his heart, and even to your own heart.
You broke his heart that day, breaking your own in the process. Never, not even a minute, you felt whole again. It always felt like there was something missing and you knew what it was. It was him. You missed him all those years ago, and you still miss him now. Nothing changed for you, your feelings for Anthony haven’t changed. You still love him as much as you did when you were in a relationship with him.
You can’t help but wonder if he ever thinks about you. Do you ever cross his mind? Does his chest still tighten when you come up in a conversation? Does he still scroll through the endless pictures trying to remember all the good times you two shared? Because you do, every damn time. Anthony is like a ghost of your past, always present, never leaving you alone. You’re not even sure if you want him to leave you alone at this point. You’d rather have those memories, those feelings, those pictures than nothing.
It would mean that it’s over for real, and that’s something you aren’t ready for yet. It might sound stupid, keeping hope after all these years. But it’s the one thing that kept you going after you realized your massive mistake. Often you wonder if it’s all been worth it. You traveled the world, visited all the places you dreamed of, ate all the crazy things you could imagine, but you did it all alone. You did everything without him. Sure, you made friends along the way, but it’s different.
It has never been the same, you barely remember what life before Anthony felt like. You sure as hell know how life after Anthony feels like, and you hate every single second of it. As soon as the adrenaline, the thrill of traveling alone wore off you knew. You knew you fucked up, you fucked up big time.
You’ve come to the conclusion you should’ve handled things differently. You try to blame it on yourself, you even try to blame it on Anthony even though you know that isn’t fair, you try to come up with a reasonable explanation, but you were just young and stupid. Oh, you were so stupid. How could you let him go like that? Why did you let him go like that? You could scream, yell, cry, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. Why? Why did you have to do it that way?
Your mind doesn’t stop thinking tonight, making it awfully hard to fall asleep. You twist and turn, utterly frustrated with yourself. Another night spent looking at your ceiling, thinking about everything that could’ve been. It’s almost a habit now, torturing yourself with memories and scenarios that won’t ever happen. You royally fucked up and this is how you cope. Healthy? Nope, definitely not, but it does feel like you deserve this.
You’ve been back in New York for a few weeks, deciding to stop traveling after almost 3 years of nonstop planes, boats and busses. It was only logical to come home. New York still feels like home to you, with or without Anthony. You didn’t have to give it a second thought, until you realized you made it more and more difficult for yourself to get over Anthony. You forgot he isn’t the rookie anymore, who still has to prove himself. He proved himself, and it seems like you can’t go anywhere without hearing or seeing something about him.
The thought crosses your mind for just a second. Just like it did last night and the night before. Your fingers itch to grab your phone and message him, call him even. You have no idea if he still has the same number, for all you know he could’ve blocked you the moment you walked out of that door. You shouldn’t do it, you know you shouldn’t, but you want to, you want to so bad. You just want to hear his voice, his laugh, you just want to hear him.
With shaking hands you grab your phone, the bright light blinding you for a second. You scroll through your contacts, until you come across his name. His nickname brings a smile to your face, it’s been a while since you’ve seen it. Your finger hovers over his number, while you’re trying to collect your thoughts. You have no idea what you’re going to say to him if he picks up. What if he doesn’t pick up? Fuck, no, you don’t need to think like that right now.
 “Come on, y/n. Just do it,” you mumble to yourself, trying to convince yourself that this is a good idea. You take a deep breath and press on his number. Heart beating in your chest, the panic rising inside your chest. You bring the phone to your ear, begging, praying you’ll hear it ring. Never felt seconds this long, it feels like hours went by before you hear that dreaded message, your worst fear confirmed.
‘The number you're trying to reach has been disconnected.’
“Fuck!” you cry out, holding the phone tightly against your chest. No longer able to hide your emotions you let it all go. Tears streaming down your face, you grab your phone like it’s your lifeline, like it’s the only thing that will keep you grounded. You sob against your pillow, letting the pain, the grief consume you. It isn’t fair, it shouldn’t go like this, is this what you deserve for abandoning him all those years ago? Maybe this is a sign, a sign to move on, to give up.
At some point you fell asleep, utterly exhausted by all your intrusive thoughts, crying until the early morning light seeped through your curtains. You blink a few times, before groaning into your pillow. You’d almost think you’re hungover, because that headache for sure doesn’t lie.
After failing to fall back asleep you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water soothes your skin, and you try, you try so hard to keep the tears away. But you can’t stop them from falling, letting the water wash them away. You continue your shower routine through your tears, scrubbing your skin until it sees red. Eventually you calm down again, gaining back some composure.
It’s when you’re brushing your teeth that you look into the mirror for the first time. You would laugh at your reflection if you weren’t feeling so shitty. You’re glad it’s your day off, no amount of makeup can help you with this. You put on your makeup, trying to at least hide some of the puffiness around your eyes. You sigh, while walking over to your closet, grabbing a pair of skinny jeans and your favorite sweater.
You lounge around in your apartment for a few hours, entertaining yourself with some mind-numbing show on Netflix, before you decide you definitely need to get out of here for a while. It’s been a while since you just walked around the city and simply enjoyed the familiar buildings and people. You decide it’s the perfect activity to do right now, making a mental note to grab something to eat later, food is the last thing on your mind right now. Grabbing your jacket on the way out, you head into the city, trying to clear your mind and soul.
It’s funny how much a city can change in almost 3 years, but also stay exactly the same. There are so many new shops, but the sweet man on the corner of the street is still there. You smile at him, while he gives you a nod in return. It’s nice to be outside again, feeling the rays of sunshine on your skin.
Your walk comes to an abrupt stop when you end up on a street you weren’t planning on visiting any time soon. All your daydreaming probably led you to this place. You’ve been walking on autopilot for a while, so familiar surroundings turned into familiar patterns, steering you into the direction you walked every single day for months.
You catch yourself thinking about the possibilities of walking in and knocking on his door, or catching Anthony as he leaves the apartment. “This is a stupid idea, even for you,” you mumble, shaking your head at the fact that you’re even considering it. Without giving it a second thought you walk inside, burying your hands inside your pockets to keep them from shaking.
It’s a weird feeling to be back here, you walked through these halls so many times. There are so many memories here, so many good times were spent in this building. You try to focus on the happy memories instead of the dark cloud that hovers over your very last memory of this place, the very last time you left this place.
You try to talk some courage into yourself, even though the thought of seeing him again scares you more than you want to admit. “You can do this,” you tell yourself, encouraging yourself to either knock on that door or walk away. You slip your hand out of your pocket, softly knocking on the door.
Your breath hitches in your throat, heart beating so fast it might explode when you hear movement behind the door. The moment the door opens you let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not from relief, but from acceptance. Because the guy in front of you for sure isn’t Anthony. “Can I help you?” the stranger in front of you asks. 
You smile, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, I don’t know? My boyfriend and I used to live here,” you start, before frowning. “or my ex-boyfriend, it’s a weird situation if I’m being honest.”
The guy in front of you nods, holding out his hand to you. “I’m Simon, and you look like you need someone to talk to,” he chuckles. 
You laugh at his bold move, accepting his hand. “I do. I’m y/n,” you say, shaking Simon’s hand. You talk to him for a few minutes, explaining why you showed up on his doorstep. Simon listens intently, only interrupting you to give you some well needed advice. 
“If you were looking for another sign to move on, I’d say this is it, y/n,” Simon says, leaning against the doorway, watching you with an empathetic look. 
You sigh, smiling at the helpful stranger in front of you. “You’re right about that, this is what I needed,” you nod.
For a man you just met a few minutes ago he’s definitely the support you’ve been missing these past few months. Knowing kindness goes a long way, you try to tell him how grateful you are for his words, for his help, but he simply waves it away. “Do you by any chance know any good places around here that serve some killer coffee and pastries? It changed a lot here, so I’m kind of lost,” you say, chuckling at yourself. Simon directs you towards a new coffee shop two streets down that’s supposedly serving the best coffee in town. “I don’t want to interrupt whatever you were doing any longer, Simon. Thank you for your help and advice,” you say, waving at the kind man. 
“Good luck, y/n. It was a pleasure meeting you,” Simon says, waving back at you. You smile at yourself, even though this didn’t end the way you hoped, it still helped you. At least you got some closure now, you don’t have to wonder anymore if he’s still here, if there’s a chance at rekindling. The universe gave you a massive ‘nope’ sign right there.
You find the coffee shop Simon recommended easily. You smile at the cozy looking place, this is exactly the kind of place you would’ve picked yourself. You walk through the door, inhaling the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Greeted by the kind older woman behind the counter you look around, amazed by all the delicious looking pastries. “What can I do for you, love?” the woman asks, smiling softly at you. 
You chuckle, excusing yourself for not paying attention. “I’d like one of those strawberry filled turnovers and a cappuccino, please,” you say, rummaging through your bag to find your wallet. You pay for your order, saying a quick ‘thank you’ to the kind lady before finding a place to sit.
You use your time here wisely, enjoying the pastry and coffee to the absolute maximum. It amazes you how relaxed you are under the circumstances, it’s not every day you realize your relationship is really over. It’s not that you’re in denial or anything, but maybe the realization hasn’t set in completely. You knew the ‘perfect’ outcome was a long shot, but you’re glad you at least tried. You can’t blame yourself for trying, it’s all part of the process of getting over someone. It wouldn’t feel right to you if you’d never tried to talk things through with Anthony, trying to clear up some big mistakes.
All the signs you got these past few days might suggest otherwise, maybe it’s okay like this, maybe this is better for you, better for both of you. Would it even be useful to reopen old wounds? It’s probably for the better that it went like this. You’re not proud of how you handled things 3 years ago, but you know you grew as a person. This whole experience has been a true life lesson for you, making sure you’ll learn from your past mistakes.
You spend more time here than you initially planned, honestly this has been the happiest you felt in weeks, maybe even months. Perhaps relieved is a better word, it’s like a weight fell off your shoulders. It’s time, time to move on, but also time to grief. It’s time to give your past life with Anthony a place where it belongs; in the past. It’s no longer part of your future how hard it might sound right now.
You take your time to reflect back on some of the happiest moments you shared with Anthony. No better place to do that than in this cozy coffee shop, right? Your favorite memory is also the hardest one to look back at, even though you’re so proud of him for making his dreams come true. It’s also exactly the reason why you couldn’t ask him to come with you, why you didn’t work out in the end. The day Anthony got drafted was a day filled with so many emotions. Tears flowed freely that day, mixed with the most wholesome smiles you’d ever seen. It was a day to never forget. It was amazing to watch him get picked and drafted, to watch his dream suddenly came reality. It meant the world to you to see him like that, but it also started the downfall of your relationship. You didn’t know that yet until months later.
The day Anthony asked you to move in with him is definitely a second on that list. You always dreamed of moving in with Anthony, living together sounded like paradise. The prospect of coming home to him, or the other way around, was something you really looked forward to. The day he actually asked you that very question came unexpectedly. It happened after a rough game, a loss Anthony took personally. The two of you were lounging around in Anthony’s apartment, his head on your chest, one arm wrapped around you. His fingers were playing with your own, his eyes focused on nothing particular. He moved his head, locking eyes with you. ‘Move in with me?’ he’d asked you, an uncertain smile on his lips. He surprised you with his question, but waited patiently until you remembered how to speak again. ‘I would love to, Tito,’ you told him, hugging him closer to your body. ‘Wouldn’t want to spend another day without you, baby,’ he told you, softly pecking your lips.
You frown at the memory, hating the fact that the exact opposite happened. You shake your head, trying to clear your mind of that very moment. You’ve been completely consumed by your thinking that you didn’t even realize your cup is empty. Deciding to just grab another one to take with you on the walk home you turn your head to look how long the waiting line currently is. Your eyes lock on the ones you hadn’t expected to see today, maybe ever again. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mumble underneath your breath. What the hell is the universe trying to tell you? The look on Anthony’s face is one of surprise and shock, he definitely didn’t expect you to be here as well. You stay rooted to your seat, incapable of moving. You’re not even sure what you need to do right now. Breaking off the eye contact you look down at the table, playing with your empty cup.
“y/n?” God, his voice sends chills all over your body, almost bringing tears to your eyes. It for sure is one of your favorite sounds in this whole world. 
“Hey,” you say, unsure what to exactly say to him. 
Anthony gives you an uncertain smile, scratching the back of his head. “Can I sit down? Please?” he asks. You nod your head, suddenly feeling all kinds of nervous. It’s a weird experience sitting across your ex, across the man you thought you wouldn’t see again, let alone talk to again.
“I didn’t know you were back,” Anthony says, eyes locking on yours. 
You want to laugh at his statement, because how could he have known that? “Yeah, I’ve been back a few weeks now,” you say instead, letting your eyes trail over the man before you. 
“So you did it, huh? Traveled the world and stuff.” 
This time you do laugh, which makes Anthony smile as well. “I did! But nothing felt like home, nothing except New York and...” you trail off, before shaking your head as Anthony raises his eyebrow in question. “Never mind. New York will always be my home, no matter how beautiful the rest of the world is.”
Anthony looks like he wants to say a thousand things, but all he does is stare at you. His eyes follow every movement you make, it doesn’t make you uncomfortable at all. Anthony is still Anthony, his eyes on your body still does something to you. It’s the fact he doesn’t say anything else, while you try to make conversation with him. You talked and asked, while he just answered and listened. Maybe he’s nervous, maybe he’s just not that interested in catching up. Whatever it is, you’re not waiting around any longer. It’s time to head home before it’s getting too dark outside.
You rummage through your bag, trying to find a pen and something to write on. You grab a business card since it’s the only piece of paper available right now unfortunately. You scribble your phone number on the back, sliding it across the table towards Anthony. “If you want to catch up some more or ever need anything, call me,” you say, before standing up and making your way over to the exit, completely forgetting about that cup of coffee you promised yourself.
You didn’t even realize Anthony followed you until you heard his voice. You turn around, facing the man who was once yours. “Was it worth it, y/n?” Anthony asks you, his hand gesturing between the two of you. 
You know what he means, it’s a question you asked yourself a lot lately. You give him half a smile, before shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t. It absolutely wasn’t,” you say sadly, before walking out of the store, leaving Anthony behind for the second time in life.
You’re walking around in a haze, it doesn’t do anything to calm your nerves. The events that occurred these past few days have been confusing to say the least. If that was the message the universe tried to send you it definitely worked. By the time you get home you’re absolutely exhausted mentally and physically.
Two weeks go by without a message or call from Anthony. You didn’t expect him to reach out, but you kind of hoped he would. You’re getting more and more used to living in the city again, working your ass off at your new job. It took you some time to get adjusted to the typical city life again, but you’re slowly getting the hang of it more and more every day.
If you’re being honest with yourself, meeting Anthony again puts your mind to rest, it gives you some form of peace, and so did working yourself to absolute exhaustion at work. So when your phone rings at 11am on a Friday night you don’t bother to look who’s calling you, instead you answer without letting it ring more than three times.
“Who blesses me with a phone call this late?” you almost sing out, too tired to even care. 
“Uhm, it’s Anthony. I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Anthony says from the other side of the line. You blink a few times realizing it’s really him. 
“No, you aren’t. I’m just too tired to properly function,” you laugh. 
“I just got home from a game, so that makes two of us,” Anthony chuckles. You smile to yourself, enjoying the sound of his voice. “I can call you tomorrow if that’s better?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his voice. 
You shake your head at his question, he’s always so caring. “You don’t have to, we already got this far,” you tell him softly, not wanting to let him go already. You can hear him chuckling at your answer from the other side of the line. 
“I wanted to ask you something actually,” Anthony says, making your heartbeat a little harder in a mixture of fear and hope. 
“Yeah?” you ask him, urging him to go on. 
You hear his deep intake of breath, the slight stutter in his voice. “Do you want to have dinner tomorrow at my place? Maybe watch a movie or something, catch up?”
You want to scream a ‘fuck yes!’ into the phone right now, but instead you take a deep breath collecting your thoughts for a moment. You’re scared to see this as a positive thing, scared to look too much into it, while on the other hand there isn’t another reason for him to invite you over than that he really wants to see or talk to you. “I’d love that,” you tell him, closing your eyes while you wait for his response.
You hear the breath he lets out, and you know he’s smiling on the other side. “I’ll see you at 6 then? I’ll text you the address.” 
You hum your agreement, smiling at the perspective of seeing Anthony tomorrow. “I’ll be there at 6. Good night, Tito,” you tell him softly, cursing to yourself for using his nickname. If Anthony noticed your slip of the tongue at all he doesn’t show it. 
“See you tomorrow. Sleep well, y/n,” he says, before ending the call.
You lay on your couch for a few minutes, smiling to yourself like some idiot. This evening for sure took an unexpected turn. You hadn’t expected him to call you, you for sure hadn’t expected him to call you and ask you to come over for dinner and movies. The talk however worries you, you know there is a lot unsaid, at least from your side. You’re pretty sure Anthony has a lot to say as well, and that’s exactly what worries you.
You decide to call it a night, tomorrow is a brand new day. A brand new day full of exciting events to look forward to, full of life changing conversations, and most importantly full of hope. Hope at better times, hope at peace and closure, hope at rekindling old flames, there are a lot of things to hope for, you just have to wait and see which one will come true. For the first time in months, maybe even years, you fall asleep without overthinking, without playing happy memories over and over in your head, because for the first time in years you have something to look forward to, something to hold on to. That something being Anthony all over again.
The soft morning light wakes you up out of your deep slumber. It’s been a while since you felt this well rested, and for a moment you forget the reason for your peaceful night of sleep. Just for a moment though, because as soon as you grab your phone from the nightstand you remember. Anthony. A text message with his address flashes across your screen, making you smile. So you didn’t imagine everything, huh? This is really happening.
You spend your whole morning cleaning your apartment, a nervous habit you inherited from your mother. There’s just something soothing and mind-numbing about deep cleaning your kitchen, bathroom and toilet. The smell of all the cleaning products infiltrate your nostrils, making you sigh contently. There’s nothing you like more than a spotless apartment. Cleaning equals happiness. Well, that’s not completely true, but it sure as hell helps a lot.
Before you know it’s time to get yourself cleaned up and ready for the evening. You’re tempted to just throw on some sweats, but decide against it. Picking out some black skinny jeans and a yellow sweater to wear later, you make your way over to the shower. The warm water soothes your skin, washing away all the chemicals you used today. The smell of your favorite soap replaces the almost bleachy smell. You can’t help but reach for the razor, making sure your skin is absolutely as smooth as possible. Not for him, but for you, this is all for you.
You decide to skip the makeup for the night. It’s not like Anthony hasn’t seen you without it before, and if this evening decides to take a turn down memory lane, it might be nice to just be able to wipe your eyes without smudging your makeup all over your face. You roll your eyes at your reflection in the mirror. There are so many ways this evening can go, so many possible outcomes. Getting nervous about all of them is some absolute bullshit. “You’ll be fine either way,” you tell your reflection sternly, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.
It’s a little after 5:30 when you leave your apartment, the Uber driver already waiting outside for you. The drive to Anthony isn’t that far, but you’d rather be a little early than late. If there’s one thing you absolutely hate it’s being late to anything. When the driver pulls up in front of an impressive looking building you can’t help the nerves that settle in your stomach. You thank the driver before heading inside.
The moment you reach Anthony’s door you take a deep breath. It almost feels like a deja vu if you think about yesterday. The only difference is that this time you know he’s here, you know he’ll be the one to open the door when you knock. So that’s exactly what you do, your knuckles hitting the door in a certain rhythm only Anthony will understand. Patiently you wait until he opens the door, his smile greeting you as soon as he opens up. “I already thought that was you,” he chuckles, inviting you into his apartment. 
“Old habit.”
You hand Anthony your coat, while simultaneously kicking off your shoes. You follow him further inside of his apartment. The view over the city leaves you absolutely speechless. “Damn, Anthony. Hockey sure did you some good,” you chuckle, looking back at him. You catch him already looking at you, which makes you only smile some more. 
“I’m not so sure about that,” Anthony answers, turning his head to look across the skyline.
It’s weird how easy the two of you seem to fall back into familiar patterns. There are no awkward silences, it’s simply you and him again. You’re seated on his couch, when Anthony comes back into the room with a bag full of food. “I hope you still love that place downtown, y/n,” he says, smirking when he sees the look on your face. 
“I do! I haven’t been there in forever,” you laugh, holding out your hands for your portion of the food.
Anthony picks some random movie on Netflix you both haven’t seen yet. The two of you eat your food in silence, simply enjoying the moment. “It’s weird that it almost feels like nothing has changed, huh?” Anthony says, turning his head to look at you. 
You sigh, putting your leftover food back on the table. “It does, but we both know a lot has changed, ever since...” you trail off, not sure if you should talk about that right now.
 “You left me?” Anthony finishes your sentences, his eyes locked on yours.
He doesn’t look mad, he looks like he’s simply stating facts. You frown, thinking about your next words, but Anthony is faster than you. “I’m not mad at you. Yeah, you could’ve handled things better, a lot better. But I just let you go as well, I didn’t try harder,” Anthony says, a painful look crosses his face. You open your mouth to say something, but he holds up his hand, indicating he isn’t finished yet. “You followed your dreams, just like I did. I can’t blame you for that. Trust me, I tried, but it isn’t fair of me to think that way when I also followed my own dreams,” Anthony says, shaking his head.
You ponder over his words, there’s a certain truth behind them. The two of you did follow your dreams, it wouldn’t have been fair to neither of you if you had stayed. “Why didn’t you try harder?” you ask, almost feeling stupid for asking this, because you didn’t try harder to right the wrongs until you got back to New York. 
Anthony smiles at you, stretching his arms above his head. “Because I knew you’d find your way back to me one day.” 
You tilt your head, letting his words sink in. “Just like that?” you ask. 
“Just like that.”
You let your eyes travel over his body, taking in his whole appearance. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to look at him, so you’ll take all the time you need to get familiar with him again. Until your eyes fall on a very, very familiar piece. The chain you gave him for your 2 years anniversary. “Anthony?” you ask quietly, eyes locked on his chain. Anthony hums, indicating he heard you. He looks at you, while you can’t help but bite on your bottom lip. “You’re still wearing the chain?” you ask, even though it isn’t really a question, you’ve seen it with your own two eyes. Anthony simply looks at you for a moment, brushing his fingers through his hair before he answers. 
“I do, I do, y/n,” he sighs, his fingers closing around the chain. 
“Why? Why do you still wear it?” You can’t help but ask the burning question, you need to know his answer. Anthony looks at you, his large hand closing around your much smaller one. 
He smiles softly at you, squeezing your hand. “Because I always belonged to you. Even after all these years,” Anthony says, his eyes showing there’s nothing but truth behind his words. You can almost feel the color drain from your face, out of all the things he could’ve told you this definitely was the one you didn’t expect. You can’t contain your tears any longer, the relief flooding through your body.
“No, no, don’t cry, baby,” Anthony whispers, pulling you close to him. You bury your head in the crook of his neck, his familiar scent flooding your senses. The moment his arms close around you, pulling you impossible close to his chest, you remember. You remember how home feels like. This is it, this is home. No matter how many years will pass, how many times you hit rock bottom, home will always be here in Anthony’s arms. The place you feel the safest, the place that gives you all the love you need and deserve, the place that brings you the most happiness.
There’s still so much that needs to be discussed, so many things left unsaid, but all of that can wait a little longer. Being back in Anthony’s embrace and keeping him close to you seems like the better choice right now. All that matters for now is the fact that you’re finally home again.
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songficsbyrissi · 3 years
Text
You’re Mines Still (Erik X Reader)
“They say time heals She can't see her life without me, she's so blind still Fuck that nigga, you can tell him that you're mines still” - Yung Bleu feat. Drake
A/N: heyyyy y’all! Back from the dead again! 🤣 here to drop my shit and dip as always. I’m trying to stop that, I swear. Hennyways, I wanna put a disclaimer here: I have nothing against MBJ. I couldn’t care less about the nigga but I thought it’ll be interesting to have this nigga as the boyfriend, instead of making a character up in contrast to Erik. I think it’s perfect because I’m pretty sure they’re two completely different niggas. And I know “mines” isn’t proper English but I’m going with the title of the song so don’t start with me 😂😂😂 Aight imma let y’all read lol. Hope you enjoy it!
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You were doing it again.
You found yourself observing your boyfriend Michael, and comparing him to your ex, Erik. Right now, Michael came into the kitchen and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek to say good morning. It was sweet and nice but Erik would’ve grabbed you by the waist, pulled you in for a long, juicy kiss, followed by a smack on the ass. You found yourself low-key missing that, but you moved on so you had to let that go.
“Michael?”
“Yes, cookie?”
You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. It was a cute nickname, but ever since you told him your favorite dessert was chocolate chip cookies, here this nigga go, making it your nickname.
You shook your head. “Never mind.”
“You seem so distant, babe. What’s on your mind?” He asked from his seat at the table.
You avoided eye contact with him. “Nothing. I’ve just been tired.”
He snorted at this. “It’s because you work too much. I told you to chill.” He got up from the table and kissed you on the cheek. “Alright, I’ll see you later. I gotta go to the office.”
“Bye.” You said faintly as he walked out of the door. That was another thing. Erik could tell when something was bothering you and knew you avoided eye contact when you were lying. Michael just let anything you tell him slide. At this point, you could have a gunshot wound in your stomach and tell him you were fine and he’ll believe it.
You sighed deeply and got your things together so you could go back to your place. Michael asked you to move in with him, but you knew you weren’t ready for that. Not with him.
On your way to your apartment, you remembered you needed to do some grocery shopping, so you pulled up to the supermarket and pulled out your list of essentials on your notes app. The supermarket wasn’t too busy, thank God. You were able to weave back and forth through the aisles with ease. You got to the soup aisle and the broth you needed was all the way on the top shelf. You looked to the side to make sure no one would see you embarrass yourself. Before you could climb, a man’s arm reached up, grabbed the carton of broth, and handed it to you.
You smiled softly. “Thank you so much. I was about to embarrass myself climbing this shelf.”
“I could see that.” The man replied in a familiar voice that caused you to break your neck to look at him.
“Erik....” you breathed nervously once your eyes fell on him. He was still fine as always. The day you run into him, he would be wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. An outfit that gets any girl’s faucet running. You wanted to sneak a glance, but you stopped yourself because you knew he would catch it.
He licked his bottom lip and looked you up and down. Damn him.
“Hey ma...it’s been a while.”
You nodded, looking down at your shopping cart. “Yeah, it has....”
“You still fine as hell.” Erik cracked a smirk and you were getting more and more nervous under his gaze. What the fuck is wrong with you?
You decided to breathe and ignore his statement. “How have you been, Erik?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, which something he always did when he was nervous. Holy shit, he was nervous around you. Why did that bring a pang of joy into your heart?
“I’ve been chilling. I'm still an architect. Still designing houses and getting people to buy them. It’s been aight. I’ve been successful.”
You gave him a genuine smile. “That’s good. I’m glad everything is going good in your career.”
“Yeah, it is. If only you were with me to see it all.”
You sighed deeply, shaking your head. “Erik-“
“I should’ve never let you go, Y/N. You were a good ass woman and you motivated me. I know I messed up but-“
“Erik, I’m kinda seeing someone else right now.” You spat out, preventing him from continuing the monologue he had going. He seemed taken aback by your outburst. Then came denial, anger, sadness, and acceptance all on his face.
“I’m sorry, Erik but I have a new boyfriend now. His name is Michael and he’s great. I figured you should know that.”
Erik let out a dry laugh in response and held his hands up in defense. “Yeah, you know what? I should’ve. A woman like you, of course, a nigga gonna snatch you up. That’s my fault. I hope he treats you well.”
“He does.” You swallowed hard and pushed your cart forward. “You take care of yourself, Erik. I’ll see you around.”
You didn’t wait for a reply. You just continued pushing until you heard his voice.
“You too, Princess.”
You stopped in your tracks for a bit, hearing that nickname for the first time in forever but you continued on your journey, refusing to look back at your ex.
You wrapped up your grocery store trip and went home. Even while you were cooking for your new man, Erik was still on your mind. You couldn’t help but think about all the times you had with him. One memory came back to you and you cringed. The night you two broke up.
“All you can think about are these damn houses! What about our house, Erik?!?!” You screamed coming closer to him, with your fists clenched. “What about all the shit you promised me?!”
“You’re still getting it, Princess! I promise!” He tried to pull you in a hug, but you pushed him away. All you saw was red. You didn’t want him touching you. You stuck a finger in his face.
“Bullshit! I’m tired of your empty-ass promises! I’m better than this! I’m better just being your damn girlfriend for all these years! It’s either you’re wanna be with me forever or you don’t! It’s that simple!”
Erik gathered up all the anger building to yell back. “No! It ain’t that simple! You just don’t get it.” Your angry demeanor softened at his words and you took a seat on the leather sofa. You wanted to cry because this shit was so fucking frustrating. You looked up at him with all the sincerity you could muster.
“Help me get it, Erik. Please. Because I just don’t.”
Erik took your trembling hands into his larger hands. “I just...I just don’t see myself as your husband right now. I got a lot of shit to work out before I can make that type of commitment to you, ma. I just need you to understand that and stick with me. I’m not saying it’s never going to happen. I’m just saying now’s not the right time.”
As much as you tried to prevent it, it happened. Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Erik began wiping them off, but you backed away.
“You keep saying that. When is the right time, huh? When?” You asked then sneered once you saw that once again, he couldn’t supply you an answer. “Just admit it, Erik. You don’t want to marry me. You don’t want to get a house with me, you don’t want to have kids with me. You don’t...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to say this. “You don’t want forever with me. Now I get it.”
Erik shook his head vigorously as you rose from the sofa and he grabbed your hand. “No, baby girl! You’re not getting it! I love you! I love you so much! Please!”
You used your free hand to wipe some more of your tears. “You don’t love me the way I love you, Erik. I’ve been dying to be your wife, but you don’t want to be my husband. So I’m not gonna waste time with you when I can find someone who will.”
You released yourself from the grip he had on you, both figuratively and literally, and packed all your shit up. Despite the protests and guilt-tripping coming from Erik, you still made it your mission to get the fuck out of his apartment and get the fuck out of his life.
After mourning and healing from the loss of your long-term relationship, you met Michael. He was a nice man who looked similar to Erik but was completely different, personality-wise. Your friends noticed how much Michael looked like Erik, but they decided not to bring it up because they knew you would deny it. You were in denial, convinced it was all a coincidence. Deep down, you knew damn well he looked like Erik.
However, he was nothing like him and you thought that would work out in your favor. It didn’t.
You laid wide awake in Michael’s bed. He fell asleep after one round of sex and you were not satisfied. The sex was good, but one round??? Erik used to go at least 3 a night. Erik also would spoon, but Michael was turned away from you, snoring away. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and you picked it up to see a text from your ex. You sat up in shock and opened it.
Erik:
Ik I shouldn’t b but I can’t stop thinkin bout u. I never stopped.
You took a deep breath and fixed your thumbs to respond.
You:
I’m with someone else, Erik. U gotta respect that.
Erik:
I do I just don’t like it. Can we at least be friends?
You contemplated your answer, then constructed a text back.
You:
Fine. We’ll be friends.
Erik:
With benefits? 👀
This caused you to stifle a laugh that would’ve been loud enough to wake up your boyfriend.
You:
Lmao no! Just friends, Erik.
Erik:
Lol I’ll take what I can get. Good night, Princess ❤️
After that last text, you were smiling yourself to sleep. It didn’t take long for Erik to invite you to group outings with mutual friends to eventually just you and him. It felt wrong but felt so right at the same time. You were alone in Michael’s apartment once again when Erik hit you up asking if you would like to see a house he built that was being pulled off the market. You agreed since you had nothing else to do. It’s just a house.
Needless to say, The house was gorgeous.
“Shittttt look at this fucking closet!” You cooed, entering the large walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and turned around to look at Erik with an enormous smile on your face. ���Erik! You did that shit! This is my dream house! If I had the money, I would buy it right now!”
Erik chuckled with his arms folded. “It’s already bought, Princess.”
You scrunched up your face in disappointment as you stood against the marble island table in the middle of the room. “Ughh for real? I bet they don’t even like it like that!”
“Nah...I do.” He walked up to you slowly.
It didn’t click for your slow ass what he just said. “Of course you like it. You designed it.”
“Nah, we designed it.”
A record scratch went off in your head and you turned to see Erik right next to you. You gazed into his eyes to see an emotion you couldn’t describe. He saw confusion in yours.
“You ain’t noticed how this house is exactly your dream house? Everything you wanted in a house is right here. Baby girl, after you left me, all I could think about you and us and how I fucked us up. I was designing other houses and buildings, but there’s one that was most important to me that I never focused on and that was ours. I remembered our discussions and you didn’t know it, but I took notes of everything we wanted in a house. I finally had the motivation to get it designed, built, and bought.”
Erik built a house for you. He actually listened to you. Even when you thought he wasn’t, he was listening to every detail of what you wanted. You had so many questions to ask, but you were speechless. What were you supposed to say to this?
“I don’t want you to think I was on some creepy nigga shit because I wasn’t. It’s just that this design was gonna go to waste and I was going to let them sell it to the highest bidder, but I just couldn’t. This house was the last piece of you I had left. If I sold it, it was like me officially giving up on the possibility of us. I still had that hope. I’m a stupid ass nigga, I know.”
Your right hand grasped his left hand and he finally spared you a glance to see unshed tears in your eyes.
“I wanted this....from you....for so long. For so long! Why are you giving it to me now?! When I have someone else?!” You threw his hand out of frustration and exited the closet. You didn’t make it far. You just went into the master bedroom and cried your eyes out. You waited so long for this and he’s giving it to you now? When Michael was in the picture? Well, It’s too damn late.
Erik got on his knees and grasped your knees. You stared at him through the tears in your eyes.
“I know you’re building a life with this nigga, but stop. Stop that shit. You know he ain’t the one for you. Fuck that nigga. You’re mines still.” Erik was pleading with you. He began to shed a tear. Holy shit, he meant every word. “Baby, I’m on my knees. Take me back.”
Your ex began planting tender kisses on your knees and traveled up to your thighs, still holding you. Your heart raced at his actions, but you didn’t want him to stop. You missed him. You missed him so damn much. As much as you tried to lie to yourself, you still loved him.
“Erik, get up.”
He obeyed and you took his face in your hands, caressing the sides.
“You’re such a fucking manipulative motherfucker and I hate that I love you so fucking much.”
Erik took your hands into his and kissed the insides. “I ain’t trying to manipulate you, baby. I swear I’m not. I love you and I just wanted you to know that I heard you. You just wanted a nigga to show you that he was serious about you. I get it. While you were gone, I focused on myself and fixed myself because I admit I was dragging my ass with doing that while we were together. It was because I thought you were here to stay so I had all the time in the world to get my shit together. When you left, I saw that I was wrong. I was wrong as fuck.”
You didn’t say anything. You just let him keep talking.
“I love you, baby. All I’m asking for is a second chance to make this right, but if you say no, I’ll sell this house and leave you alone for good. I swear on my Pops’ grave, I’ll leave you the fuck alone, Y/N.” His words were so heartfelt. “I don’t wanna go unless you make me.”
You were hyperventilating through your tears, then a smile formed across your face. “Erik, I love you. I love you so much, baby.”
Erik tackled you with frequent kisses on your lips and it turned into a whole passionate make-out session. He planted kisses all over your neck while he unbuttoned your blouse and you could feel his hard dick through his pants.
“Fuck. I missed this. I missed us.” You breathed when his lips met yours, once again.
“I missed us too, baby.” Erik rested his forehead against yours and stared into your eyes with so much love. “Be my wife.”
You backed away from him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”
“You heard me. Marry me, baby. I don’t wanna waste any more time.” He saw the look on your face and his joyful expression turned somber. “You don’t want to marry me?”
You shook your head. “It’s not that, Erik. I always wanted to but just because we getting back together doesn’t mean I wanna rush into a marriage. We gotta fix us first. We can’t even fix us right now because I still have to break up with Michael.”
Erik put a hand through his hands and blew air out of his mouth. “You right.”
“And the way you asked sucked.” You deadpanned but found yourself laughing afterward and he face palmed himself. “Seriously? After all this time, I deserve a better proposal than that.”
Erik chuckled and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “You right. Once again. Imma do better.”
And when he said he would do better, you knew he wasn’t just talking about the proposal.
“You better. I ain’t giving you a third chance. This ain’t baseball!”
This caused him to guffaw, pull you into a tight, loving embrace, and kissed you once again. He had a grin on his face that rivaled the Cheshire cat.
“You’re mines still,” Erik said as a statement and a question.
“Yep. I never stopped being yours, baby boy.”
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