#screaming crying its just a show why do i get so fucking riled up over this shit

[why-its-kai]

me when i see takes/interpretations of 3 guns show's original anime/characters that i strongly disagree with

[inhuman-obey-me]

Melody of Revenge

Word Count: 2.4k Description: Everyone knows not to mess with Lucifer Morningstar. Some, however, make the mistake of going after his family instead. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Lucifer was next, and this ended up getting really long, so uh ... yeah. Can be found on AO3 here. content warning: torture, so much torture, blood, body horror/mutilation

Fear and intimidation. Lucifer knew how to use both effectively, striking terror into any and all who looked upon him. The Avatar of Pride rarely had to remind others of just who he was, but every now and then, someone decided to step out of line. It couldn’t be helped -- imbeciles could be found wherever beating hearts or souls resided.

Tonight, however, he was dealing with a very particular kind of imbecile. One that had crossed a line so gravely that he had planned an entire torture routine in his mind as he made his way through the halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Flames of anger licked his insides as he made his way to the dungeons, but he had to keep his rage under control. Lucifer always had to be in control, every action and word deliberate and planned. He didn’t have a choice to be anything less.

“Barbatos.” He greeted the loyal butler and friend, who stood at the entrance of a particular hall of cells.

“Greetings, Lucifer.” The usual polite smile alighted his lips, though a knowing look gleamed in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to handle this one?”

“Absolutely.” He responds firmly, immediately. Barbatos usually had the pleasure of torturing those who crossed the Devildom, and he took great delight in it -- far more than even Lucifer would. After all, Lucifer found torture and punishment as a means to an end, a form of discipline.

Barbatos simply did it for fun.

“Then by all means,” the royal servant bowed slightly, gesturing with one arm towards the dark hall. “She’s all yours.” With that, he left the dungeons, having a great many other tasks to attend to for the day -- though couldn’t help leaving with a melodic, “Have fun.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Lucifer’s lips. Oh, he planned to make this a very enjoyable time indeed. Taking a deep breath -- making sure that he was in control -- he dropped his glamour to reveal more of his demon form and walked forward to unlock one of the metal cell doors. It creaked open, allowing for the sounds of muffled screams to leave the dark room.

“Hello, Abyzou.”

The protests suddenly stopped, a chill seeming to settle in the air. Lucifer slowly lit the torches along the dungeon’s walls, bathing the room in a hellish orange light. There, in the middle of the cell, sat the traitor, bound and gagged. Her serpentine eyes looked up at Lucifer with a mix of fear and anger, but she otherwise remained silent and still.

“What’s wrong? Suddenly decided it was a good time to be quiet?” His voice is calm. Too calm. He eases his long coat off of his shoulders, hanging it on a hook by the door. Gloved hands begin to roll up his sleeves as he turns to look at the other demon again, a sigh leaving him. He stepped forward, and with a yank removed the gag from her mouth. “Is that better?”

Abyzou coughed, spitting to the side as she flexed her jaw after it being bound for so long. He allowed her to adjust -- he was a demon of patience, after all.

“Lucifer … “ She begins with his name, spoken with a certain kind of reverence. “I didn’t realize you would be visiting me here.”

“You didn’t?” The surprise in his voice is almost genuine. “Strange, I figured you would have been expecting me any day now, considering the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she directed her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to look upon the greater demon. There was a hint of shame in her expression, but it gave way to a twisted smile as she shook her head. “I see . . .”

“Do you?” He speaks sharply, his hatred for her beginning to show. He grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you see, Abyzou? Or are you still trying to play innocent?”

She hissed as his fingertips pressed into her skin, the red leather of his gloves saving her from the wrath of his claws -- for now. She stared into those magnetic ruby eyes and all the power they held, all of the destruction they could unleash, all of the pain they could bring.

“But was I wrong?” Abyzou knew her end was imminent, especially if the Avatar of Pride himself had requested to punish her personally. So what was the use in being anything but honest? “Was I truly wrong, Lord Lucifer?” The reverence once held in her voice was gone, replaced with mockery. She shifted in her bonds, leaning into the hand that held her jaw. “You know that the Devildom is stronger and better than the other realms, and yet we’re forced to grovel to the likes of angels!” Stretching out her neck, she continued with a jeer. “Or do you and your brothers miss having those white wings and halos for yourselves that much?”

Lucifer roughly pushed her face away from him, hand releasing her jaw. He took a step back, eyes full of cold fury still focused on the other demon. His gaze then swept the cell, taking note of the various torture instruments on display -- but grinned when he saw that Barbatos made sure to include the absolute essential. A vinyl player, the perfect record already in place to set the mood. He set it up to play, allowing the first notes to spill into the air before resuming his interrogation.

“So, you thought yourself better than the others who had agreed to His Royal Highness’ vision?” Lucifer begins to tug at the seam of one of his gloves, steadily peeling it off his hand. “Of course, we knew that plenty of the nobles had their concerns, and many voiced them, yourself included.” He sets the removed glove to the side, now beginning to take off the other. “And yet, you still decided that you would try and work against us behind the scenes,” The second glove joins its pair. “And, what I’m really trying to understand -- truly, I am -- is why you thought it would be a good idea to try and undermine the Seven Lords?”

Abyzou shifted in place, her earlier burst of bravado dwindling, and goosebumps rose along her skin as she listened to the music he decided to play. It was common knowledge to never get on Lucifer’s bad side, but she had taken the risk -- and now she would be answering for it. She lowered her head, staring at the cold stone floor, suddenly finding the way the orange light from the flames bounced and shimmered of great interest. “I . . . “ She started, trying to choose her next words carefully. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you or your brothers. I was doing what I thought would be best … including for you all! Can’t you see that I was trying to protect you, protect us?”

A piercing, incredulous laugh left Lucifer’s lips, his deep voice sending chills down Abyzou’s spine. He picked up the spool of twisted rope and approached her once more, the steady clack clack from his shoes’ heels echoing throughout the cell, mingling with the slowly increasing crescendo.

“Aby, Aby, Aby . . .” Lucifer clicked his tongue before he roughly collected a fistful of her long raven locks, eliciting a sharp cry as her head was wrenched back to look up at him. “That was your first mistake.”

The Avatar of Pride was nothing short of an expert when it came to stringing others up from the ceiling, though in this particular case, he wanted to make sure it hurt. The imprisoned demon thrashed and squirmed, but he was able to lift and tie her up with ease, making sure that the rough jute cut into her scaly skin just short of making her bleed -- for now. He tied the rope up to her waist, then put each wrist in a metal clasp that was chained to the floor, stretching out her arms to either side.

“You thought you needed to protect us? A sweet gesture,” He derided her, a claw coming up to slowly trace from her chin down through her cheek, drawing blood as it broke skin. “And an absolute lie. Your little act had every intention to put my brothers at risk, in harm’s way … “ A second claw followed the first, creating a ribbon of shredded skin. Abyzou hissed at the pain, biting back anything else in an effort to save some sense of dignity. “ … and you had the audacity to think you’d get away with it. Truly incredible.” The faux amazement in his tone felt like thorns in her ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look into his face.

“What’s the matter, Abyzou? Shouldn’t you be used to being in this kind of position, or at least … something not too far from it?” Lucifer smirked, delighted to see her eyes shoot back open, bright yellow irises staring at him in disbelief. “If I remember correctly … Solomon had you tied up in front of his temple, and by your hair, at that.”

That riled her up. Forked tongue lashed out to flick at his face, a series of curses leaving her lips soon after. Fangs bared, she hissed, “Don’t you dare bring up that bastard! To think that I wasn’t allowed to lay a hand on him the moment he stepped into our realm. He deserves to have his neck twisted, but you … !”

“But I . . ?” Lucifer took out a handkerchief from his back pocket, nonchalantly wiping away at where her tongue and spit landed on his visage. “Please, do go on.”

“You … you, all of you, let him in with open arms! Even after knowing everything he’s done, how he’s treated our own kind! I don’t care if you say he’s changed, HE NEEDS TO BE TORN LIMB FROM LIMB!” She screamed, thrashing about in her binds, chains rattling as she struggled.

“Temper, temper, Aby.” Oh, that sadistic, pointed grin. A wave of euphoria washed over him, seeing her like this. “You have no room to talk, considering what you’ve done.” He watched as the blood from her face dropped and dripped to the floor, a hum leaving his lips.

“Perhaps you need some more reminding of just how badly you fucked up this time.” He raised a hand, chanting a curse that caused a swirl of glowing energy to encircle both of her hands. It weaved through her clenched fists, forcing them open, and wrapped like binding around each finger. She cried out in pain as she felt the magical binding began to gradually crush her fingers, cutting off circulation knuckle by knuckle.

“You tried to have some of my brothers poisoned,” All five claws of one hand pierced the skin of her upper arm, retracted, pierced again a bit lower, and repeated -- gradually making way down her entire arm. More and more blood began to drip, the usual greenish hue of her scaly skin now awash in dark red. “You tried to gather enough support to attack them, because you were too much of a coward to come face any of us yourself. Though, it’s laughable that you thought you could do damage to us in the first place.”

“I … I’m sorry!” She knew any apologies here were useless, but the pain that she now felt at every point in her body was becoming too agonizing to ignore. “I felt like I was left with no choice!” She felt her vision get hazy, the smell of her blood and the sharp strikes of pain -- from the rope, from his claws, from the curse -- overwhelming her senses. And that damned music, it was driving her insane.

“No choice?” Lucifer scoffed, his claws now repeating the treatment on her other arm. “Abyzou, you did have a choice.” His brows furrowed, wings stretching out as he brought his face close to her upside-down one. “You just chose the wrong one.”

Tears stung her eyes, the magic binding on her hands crushing her fingers until there would be nothing left. She could hear her blood drip in puddles on the floor, and yet the bleeding wasn’t enough for her life to end anytime soon.

“Please … please, Lord Lucifer … just finish me already.” She begged, though deep down she knew her cries for mercy would be futile.

Lucifer’s usual stoic expression settled on his features. He watched her for a moment, then turned around and walked to the table by the door where he had laid his gloves. A cloth was folded neatly next to them, which he took to wipe the blood off of his hands, murmuring a spell to help fully rid his skin of any that remained. Then, he pulled his gloves back on, tugging on the seams to make sure that they were on properly, fingers flexing in the red leather.

“I’m sure that’s what you would like, Abyzou.” His voice is eerily low, his back still turned to the demoness. She could hear him setting something up, but was unable to make out what it was.

Then he started humming, a haunting sound added to the sharp strings and bellowing percussion.

He dragged the table closer to her suspended body, stepping aside to show what was left on it.

She nearly choked. There, next to the record player, was another similar device -- but this one wasn’t for playing.

“However, I have no intention of giving you a quick end. You’ll remain here, like this, until every last drop of blood leaves your body, and your hands are thoroughly crushed, and those ropes cut through you. But, you won’t be completely alone.”

He gingerly raises the needle, setting it onto the record at the correct position. Resuming his humming, he hit the Record button, and the disc began to spin, the needle etching everything it heard into the vinyl. “We’ll have a lovely keepsake to remember you by. Ah, and don’t worry … this is all using magic, so it will document everything up until your last breath.”

Abyzou tried to thrash about with what strength she had left, but in the end only caused herself pain, the chains shackled to her wrists ringing and clanging.

“Farewell, Abyzou.”

With that, Lucifer left the cell, the large metal door shutting to a close behind him. He made his way back through the dungeon halls, a smirk on his lips as he heard a loud, wailing shriek in the distance.

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Anything

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal), Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Spanking / Whipping (with a drumstick), Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 10,418 

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Tags: @lady-bakuhoe​, @gallickingun​, @mirakumiruku​, @wakaoujisenhime​, @sunnieskies02​, @hisoknen​

Art in banner by me.

This was incredibly frustrating. Finally, after years of admiring and being an incredibly dedicated fan, you were standing in front of your favorite punk rock band. They were just a few feet from you, so close that you could reach out and touch them. How badly you wanted their full and undivided attention was near suffocating, and yet, it was so difficult for you to find the courage to speak at all. You had given them your name after you had been brought backstage for the meet up, which was a perk of the insanely expensive VIP tickets you and your friends had purchased. 

That’s all that you had been able to say. Your friend, however, was absolutely bursting with questions. You were very close to her, but damn, you wished that she would just stop talking long enough for someone else to get a word in. All day you had been brooding over what you wanted to ask, what you wanted to say to these men that had been such a huge part of your life for the last few years. Their music had inspired you, made you cry, pumped you up so much that you’d jump around your room and just jam out. But, more than that, they had saved you. You didn’t know how to explain it, or even how it happened in the first place, but you had truly begun to feel like their existence is what you lived for. 

Was that unhealthy? Probably. But who could blame you? You loved every single one of them. All five men were like your best friends, and you felt so close to them from your time following them on social media and attending their concerts. You knew them like the back of your hand, from birthdays, to favorite food, drinks, hobbies, past or current girlfriends, and you had even found out their personal telephone numbers. Had you ever called them? No, of course not. That would be creepy. 

Midoriya Izuku, the band leader and lead singer, was being the most engaging as far as answering questions. Unlike their punkish attire and aesthetic, he was like sunshine, incredibly friendly and soft with his curly green hair and freckled cheeks. He was adorable, able to make all the little fangirls scream and squeal with his grin and a cheeky wink. 

Todoroki Shouto, lead guitar and backup singer, was the quiet pretty boy of the group, breaking hearts with his intense and piercing stare. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have a soft side to him, but more than anything, he was extremely dense, and his genuine confusion was what made him so desirable. 

Kirishima Eijirou, second guitar, was another ray of sunshine amongst the black clothes and punk piercings. He loved to get the crowd riled up, his endless energy and cheery personality infectious. Out of everyone, he was the most openly friendly without a hint of shyness and treated everyone like he had known them forever. 

Kaminari Denki, bass guitar, was the group idiot. He was nice, but often did and said things that could get the group into trouble or make a fool of himself in the public eye. Funny and playful, he could make anyone laugh, either from a joke or from just being a silly fool. 

Although you adored them all, one of them had you in his grip, like your heart had been locked in a vice that grew tighter every time you saw him. The fifth member, Bakugou Katsuki, was your absolute dream man. Rough, arrogant, mean, and foul mouthed, he was the bands second in command, drummer, and backup singer for moments that required his deep and gruff voice. God, he was everything you ever wanted in a partner. Boyfriend. Husband. Whatever! You wanted him so badly that you dreamed about it constantly, picturing yourself in those strong arms or having those calloused hands on your body. Much to your misfortune, he was the most private on social media, so there was still a lot about him that you didn’t know. 

That was one of his most attractive qualities to you. His mystery and his silence. What was he really like? Was he this grumpy and off putting with those close to him? Did he have a gentle side of any kind?

You wanted to know everything about him! But, standing here in front of the entire band, you were frozen, not able to make a squeak. Even your eyes were locked on the floor, unable to look up at them in fear that you would gawk a little too intensely. Or start crying. One of the two would happen, probably. 

Your chance to interact with your heroes was slipping by with each moment, however, and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to have this chance again. What did you want to say? What questions had you thought about? You had a million of them, all you had to do was just say one. Something. Anything! 

“Bakugou-!” 

The name slipped from your lips in a sharp snap, which tapered off at the end with a tremble. Just as the sweet name left your lips, your eyes darted up, catching the confused and irritated crimson glare of the blonde drummer. At first, you were taken aback by his current appearance, still flushed and sweaty from the concert performance. His blonde spiked locks were wild and unruly, bangs stuck to the sweaty skin of his forehead and cheeks. He was so handsome, all messy and hot--

“U-uhm…” Your friend that stood beside you gave you a nudge in the side, though she was unable to pull your gaze away from Bakugou, who’s annoyed snarl made your heart begin to race. “[Name], I was about to ask something else…” 

“What’d you want to say, you damn shitty extra.” Bakugou barked at you, ignoring your friends' whine at being interrupted. “Don’t just bark out my name and then stand there like a fucking moron.” That gruff and demanding voice was intoxicating, making you involuntarily clench your thighs together and clutch at the fabric of your skirt.

“I… I was wanting to know. Uhm,” Your eyes darted across his face and his chest as you tried to think of what you had been wanting to ask him. You couldn’t remember for the life of you, but as your gaze landed on the piercing he had on the bridge of his nose, a thought popped into your head and curiosity flourished instantly. “How many piercings do… do you have?” 

Bakugou’s eyebrow cocked in initial confusion at the question, before returning to its usual furrowed position. “The fuck? That’s kind of personal, ain’t it?” 

“I’ll tell you how many I have.” You weren’t sure if the teasing, flirtatious sound of your voice was purposeful or not, but just hearing yourself made the tips of your ears flush. “Five types… Nine piercings total. I bet you beat me on that, hm?” 

“Tch, that’s fucking nothing, you little punk poser. I have nine types, thirteen total.” Bakugou shoved his hands into the pockets of his loose shorts, pulling the fabric down just enough to show the skin of his left hip and a peak of his boxers. One of the stated piercings gleamed in the light once exposed, and it took all your willpower to not hyper focus on it. “Not like you’ll ever know them all or see them.” 

“I bet I could guess.” “You’d fucking fail, moron-”

“A-ah, let’s not!” Midoriya interrupted, giving a nervous laugh and a wave of his hand to pull your attention off Bakugou. “We’re not here to talk about such personal things, you know! Right, Kacchan?” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, giving an annoyed click of his tongue. “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.” 

“Why?” You once again spoke without thinking. “Because you missed your cue during Collide?” The accusation immediately had Bakugou’s eyes widening in surprise before he scoffed, glaring crimson daggers at you.  

“Well aren’t you just a fucking super fan.” 

“I try to be.” Although you knew that he wasn’t kind to you, the fact that he noticed your extreme interest in the band made your cheeks flush, looking down at the ground between your black combat boots. The t-shirt you had paired with your skirt was your favorite that you owned of the bands merchandise, and just seeing it as you gaze down over your chest made your stomach bubble nervously. Was it really that obvious? Was it weird to him? Did he like it? 

“Ah, well, anyway!” Your friend piped in again, taking a step closer to Midoriya with a sparkle in her eyes. “Deku! Please, tell us about your girlfriend!” 

Midoriya instantly went into his flustered state of rubbing the back of his head, his stuttering and embarrassed gibberish cracking with his exhausted voice, leaving you once again off to the sidelines. With a small, quiet sigh, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, more questions burning on the tip of your tongue. In your down casted vision, you saw Bakugou’s feet shift, and there wasn’t a second thought in your mind about looking up at him. Your gaze immediately locked with his, which was still a dark and threatening glare. 

Your heart instantly skipped a beat, the heat in your cheeks growing hotter. Had he already been looking at you? Why was he glaring so intensely? You didn’t think that he would get upset with the mention of his mistake that you had pointed out, but perhaps he had gotten embarrassed? In truth, you hadn’t meant your statement to be argumentative in any way. You were more concerned about him. Messing up during a performance was a big deal, and though most people might not have noticed, you were curious if it was eating at him or if he just doesn’t care. 

Then, he made a move that you didn’t expect. With a quiet click of his tongue, he began to make his way out of the room, only stopping at the door when Kirishima spoke up. 

“Woah, man, where are you going?” The redhead interrupted Midoriya, who also looked at Bakugou curiously. 

“I work a lot harder than all of you assholes during a show! I’m sick of fucking standing around, and these losers aren’t even interesting. I’ll be in my room.” Before anyone could stop him, the door slammed shut with his exit, and you turned your attention to Midoriya as he sighed. 

“A-aha, I’m sorry about Kacchan! He’s uh… he doesn’t like meetups much.” 

“That’s a shame…” You mumbled under your breath, already missing his presence. You could still feel that glare on you, so threatening and dangerous. This had been your chance to really make yourself stand out from the crowd and show him how genuinely interested you were in him, and you wasted it. You cared about him more than these other women that fawned over him like brainless zombies. You were perfect for him. You knew you were, without a doubt, and you wanted him. 

It was true that the rest of the band members were close to your heart, that you admired all of them as your heroes. But Bakugou… You had just ruined your chance to talk with him and get to know him. 

There wasn’t anything else you could do.

“Is there a bathroom I can use?” Your question once again popped out of your mouth during the middle of a conversation, though instead of stopping it, Kirishima smiled at you sweetly. His kind face and gentle touch to your arm to lead you away from the group so he could talk to you had your heart racing, almost too scared to take a step in fear that you’d trip with how distracted you were by his face. 

“Yeah, babe. Go left down the hall, you’ll see it marked. Don’t get yourself into trouble, m’kay?” 

B-babe? Aahh, why would he call me that? He’s too sweet for his own good. Cheeks flushing, you gave a small nod, thanking him quietly before heading out of the room, taking a final quick glance at the group behind you to catch Kirishima giving you a playful wave. Of course, by the time you stepped outside into the hallway, Bakugou had already vanished. Using what you had remembered of the route to get to this room from backstage, you hadn’t seen anything that was labeled as a changing room for any of the men. So, you went left down the hall as you had originally been instructed, glancing at each door you passed to see if there were any names scribbled on the dry erase board many of them sported. 

Your heart nearly stopped when you finally saw it. Bakugou Katsuki, written in red marker with a shitty doodle of what looked to be a hand holding up the middle finger, along with the words “fuck off”. Before going in, you took a moment to press your ear up against the door, listening closely to see if there were any signs of life. There wasn’t a single sound or hint of movement, so gathering your courage and glancing up and down the hall for danger, you took hold of the doorknob, your heart beginning to race as it moved without resistance. 

With a quiet click, the door opened, not making another sound as you cracked it just enough to look inside. The lights were on, and your suspicions that he hadn’t been inside were confirmed. Feeling a bit discouraged, you considered just going back to the room to finish off your time with the rest of the band. That would probably be enough to satisfy your longing for them, right? The others could be great company, and maybe Bakugou would come back before you left. 

But, deep in your chest, you could feel the need to be with Bakugou alone to talk to him one on one. You wanted his attention more than anything, and you knew that there wasn’t going to be another chance for you to see him this close again any time soon. No, you couldn’t run away. You had already come too far to back out now. What’s the worst he could do? Kick you out? Call security to have you removed? Call you names? Press you up against the wall and threaten you? 

Ah, well, maybe that wasn’t all that bad. You’d probably melt in his hands and collapse on the floor in a blushing puddle of tears if he so much as touched you. 

Gathering your resolve, you pushed yourself on into the room, walking lightly and glancing this way and that to make sure he wasn’t just laying on some furniture or something to take a nap. Feeling confident that he wasn’t in the room, you shut the door behind you with a light click, taking a few timid steps into the room. Almost instantly, you were completely engulfed by the scent of his body spray, which you had only been faintly able to pick up while in the group. It was such a powerful scent, bold and intense, just like him. How quickly just the simple scent of him made your core burning hot was a bit staggering, feeling your knees already growing weak and your chest growing tight. 

This is harder than I thought… Just from smelling him like this I feel like I’m going crazy. And he’s not even in here! I should leave before I get too distracted… But… This is his stuff! 

Beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed being in the presence of Bakugou’s possessions, your teary gaze scanned the room methodically, surprised to see that the room was actually very well kept. With his brash personality, you more expected Bakugou’s personal space to be a wreck, but the only thing that was really out of place was a small pile of clothes tossed aside next to a suitcase. A desire to be close to Bakugou driving you, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation as you made your way towards it, squatting down. Right on top was the tank top he had just been wearing, still soaked with his sweat. It was the most recent thing that had touched his body. It still had his essence all over it. How could you just leave it there? 

Picking it up, you brought the shirt up to your nose, inhaling deeply. It was absolutely delicious, your body quivering from the excitement and adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins. You were actually holding one of Bakugou’s sweaty shirts in your hands, one that he had just performed in! This was absolutely real. It wasn’t a dream!

Becoming overwhelmed with your feelings for him, you flopped back to sit on your butt, spreading your legs open. Since you were wearing fishnet hose with decently large holes, you had direct access to your already soaked pussy, the little lace thong easily moved aside. Now, all that existed to you was the scent wafting off his shirt and your fingers eagerly stroking your sex, alternating between stroking your clit and digging two of your fingers inside you. The cloth of the t-shirt pressed up against your lips and nose, you panted and moaned softly against it, imagining that you were right up against his chest, his fingers teasing your cunt. 

You were so engrossed in your fantasy that you could even hear him taunting you, that deep growl of his voice in your ear. 

“That’s right, babygirl. You like when I finger that slutty pussy, don’t you?” 

“You’re so fucking wet, you little whore. Dripping all for me.” 

“Getting horny just from the smell on my clothes? You dirty fuck.” 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

The sudden rattling boom of a familiar yell startled you out of your pleasant daydream, turning your moan into a squeal as you nearly jumped out of your skin. Spinning around, you were met with the wide-eyed shocked crimson glare of your dream man, who was standing halfway in the room, as if he had stopped in his tracks upon seeing you. All you could do was sit there in shock, still holding his shirt up to your face as your other hand tried to pull your skirt down between your legs, as if to hide your sin. 

“I,” Stuttering, you tried to gather yourself, clenching your thighs together tightly. “I, uhm, Bakugou, it’s not- How’d you… get in?” 

His shocked expression contorted into one of confusion, then into annoyance, his brows furrowed deeply as he startled at you. “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t lock the door, ya dumb cunt.” Walking the rest of the way inside, he slammed the door shut loudly behind him, startling you again enough to scurry back against the wall, your knees pulled up to your chest protectively. “What the fuck are you even questioning me for? You’re the horny bitch sitting on my floor sniffing my fucking clothes and touching yourself.” Without having to look back at the doorknob, Bakugou gave the little lock a twist, setting the latch firmly in place. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you could only stare at him, your eyes captivated by that fierce glare. How hot he made you only intensified now that he was back in your presence, and more than that, the asshole was even shirtless. His flawless muscular figure made your mouth feel dry, as if any and all liquid your body could produce was pooling between your legs. It was everything you could do not to start touching yourself again, clutching onto his shirt with both hands tightly. “I… I’m sorry. I just… I-” 

“You’re just a damn psycho fan, aren’t ya?” Reaching up to give his hair a quick ruffle, Bakugou started making his way towards you, his ruined and ragged skater shoes squeaking against the smooth wooden floor. “I’m surprised you didn’t rip your shirt off during the fucking concert and throw your bra on stage.” 

“I’m not stupid like those girls… I have dignity. And I don’t want a bunch of other people seeing my tits anyway.” Your voice lowered down to a meek whisper by the time he stood in front of you, both of his hands on his hips, as if he were about to scold you like an angry parent. With him so close, your eyes glanced over every inch of his bare torso, drinking in how absolutely flawless he was. What was even more enticing was the piercings he had so proudly boasted about not long ago, a pair of them placed on his collarbones, nipples, and hips. 

“Tch, dignity?” Bakugou scoffed, a sly smirk crossing his lips. “‘Dignity’, the little slut says, as she sits on the floor in my dressing room fucking herself to the stench on my shirt. Pathetic.” 

“What are… Are you going to kick me out?” 

“There’s a lot that I could do to you,” Bakugou’s smirk turned wicked, his lips curling up to show his gums. “But how about you tell me what the fuck you were doing in here?” 

“I just… I really wanted to get an autograph or picture with you. You’re my,” Your breath caught in your throat, not wanting to let it slip that he was your absolute dream man. “You’re my favorite band member.” 

“Then what are you doing with my clothes?” 

An intense burning suddenly rushed to your cheeks with a new round of embarrassment, and with it came the stinging sensation of tears building up in your eyes. What had you been doing? You had just wanted to talk to him more, to get to know him better, and just spend time with your hero. And yet, you had let yourself get completely overwhelmed by a burning desire for him, one that was just too strong to ignore in the moment of solitude with his possessions. You knew that you had a very intense crush on him, but that bad and that… gross? You had told yourself over and over that you weren’t like the desperate women who would do anything filthy to get his attention, yet here you were, sniffing his clothes and touching yourself. 

“I… I don’t know what I was doing.” Your voice quivered as you avoided looking at him, trying to blink the tears away. “That was really gross of me. I had just… wanted to see you in private. I wasn’t getting a chance to talk to you, to any of you, and… I just wanted my chance.” 

“You wanted your chance, eh?” Bakugou brought a hand up to his chin, rubbing it as if he were in thought, contemplating his options. “So much that you’d sneak into my room, to wait for me or try to corner me?” 

Swallowing the lump that had grown in your throat, you coward down back against the wall, wishing that you could just shrink away in shame. Your impulses had completely ruined your chances. He had to think you were a total freak by now, he’d never want to even give you the time of day. 

“Ya know,” Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, taking a half step closer to you. His posture and presence over you was so aggressive and domineering that you couldn’t find it in yourself to move, only pulling your legs up tighter to your chest to try and get further away from him. “You talk all big, saying that you’re not like those other extras out there that’ll drop their pants in seconds for me. That you have ‘dignity’. But I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re just like those other sluts out there, a stupid whore that is driven by nothing but her cunt.” 

You gave a small shake of your head, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs and the swirling in your stomach from how he was treating you. You couldn’t believe it was turning you on so much. “No, I… That isn’t what I wanted.” 

“I think it is. You’re disgusting. Nothing but a filthy super fan and a stalker. Why don’t you just admit it?” 

“Because… It’s not true. I love you, but not… It’s not all like that.” 

“If you loved me, you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” The change in tone caught you off guard, his voice no longer accusatory and vicious. Instead, his growl was almost soothing, as if he were trying to calm your frantic thoughts of failure. “You’d do anything to stay in the same room as me. To just be able to fucking look at me or get a shitty autograph, hm?” 

“I would… yes.” Your heart racing, you tried to blink away the tears still prickling in your eyes, but they were persistent. “But if you want me to leave, I’ll… do that, too. I shouldn’t have come here like this in the first place…” 

“You regret it?” Bakugou moved his hands back to his hips, his fingers resting against the pristine shape of his hips with such rugged and confident posture. You were so conflicted on your feelings, and that question only made your throat grow tight. Did you regret it? All your actions up to this point had gotten you here, alone in his room with him, and no matter what the interaction was or may end up being, just getting to be here was a dream come true. 

But what would you do? Would you really do anything he asked of you? Anything? In truth, you didn’t think that you had the courage and you would just annoy him until he kicked you out. What would he even want from you in the first place? You weren’t innocent enough to not have noticed the bulge beneath the zipper of his shorts, pressing up into the fabric. Was this entire situation, having you cowering on the floor in front of him like this, actually turning him on? Did he… like you, then? Was he attracted to you? 

“I asked you a question.” Bakugou snapped when you didn’t answer him, leaning forward a bit to glower down at you with that typical snarl. 

“I don’t… I don’t regret it. I just don’t want to upset you.” 

“Aw, don’t want to upset me, eh?” With a click of his tongue, Bakugou’s snarl stretched into a smirk. “Poor little stalker, scared to upset me. Don’t worry, babygirl. Just do what I ask, and you won’t upset me.” 

“Really? You’re not upset?” 

“Not at all, babe. But you have to do what I say. You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” The condescending growl of his voice was lost to you, only able to latch on to the pet names and hope of getting back on his good side.

“Yes.” 

“Because you’re not like those other girls. You're my number one fan. Aren’t you?” 

A new burning of heat and tears flared up, unable to stop the happy smile on your lips. “Yes. Yes! I am! I love you so much-”

“Get on your knees.” 

Smile faltering, you were confused by the demand, looking up at Bakugou through your gathered tears. “What?” 

“Get on your fucking knees.” Bakugou snapped again, the gleam in his glare almost… sinister. Still, there was something in you that begged for you to comply, and just like your impulses earlier, you couldn’t ignore it. Squeezing the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands, you slowly shifted yourself up onto your knees as demanded, though the space between him and the wall was limited. Worried about your face being too close to his crotch, you sat back mostly on your legs, but he was quick to correct you. 

“All the way up on your knees.” 

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you pushed yourself up to be kneeling, your eyes glancing and looking everywhere but at the crotch of his baggy blank punk shorts, which reached his knees and ended in tattered fabric. The chains on both hips rattled lightly as he shifted his weight to his other foot, and that slight sound pulled your eyes to look at them, and thus at his crotch. At this angle, you could truly see how strained he was, the form of his cock clearly visible. The heat in your cheeks grew fiercer just thinking about what was just a few inches from your nose, and what was worse, the smell of him was overwhelming all your senses. He must have just recently reapplied his spray after sweating like mad for hours on end, but even his natural scent was enticing. 

“What are you looking at, babe?” 

Bakugou’s voice broke you out of your stupor, bringing you to look up at his face. “Nothing… Just, well…” Your voice tapered off, unable to find it within you to ask him. He obviously had a boner, but what the hell did that mean?

“Open your mouth. Keep those pretty eyes on my face.” His commands had grown softer, as if he were purring at you to keep you compliant. Opening your mouth as told, you peered up at him through your lashes, tilting your head back a little. The way his smirk grew had your skin tingling, but that isn’t what had all your attention. Your focus was on his hips, listening to the rustling of fabric and watching the movement of his arms through your peripheral vision. “Good girl. Now stick out your tongue. And don’t move.” 

Slowly, your tongue lolled out, and the low groan he gave in satisfaction of your obedience had you opening your mouth wider. As you sat there waiting for him, you could feel the saliva beginning to dribble down your chin and along the length of your tongue, gathering in a slick pool before dripping off the tip of your tongue to the floor. 

Suddenly, you felt a hard and hot presence slap against your tongue, making you squeak and recoil back. Though, before you could get far, your hair was in Bakugou’s fist, yanking you back up into position and peering up at him in shocked fear. He was visibly agitated, but his smirk was still wide, teeth bared. 

“What do you think you’re doing, slut? I said don’t move. You told me you’d do anything I say.” 

Trembling now, you pulled your gaze from his to look at his hips, pressing your lips together tightly as you gazed upon his erect cock. As he held it steady with his free hand, you couldn’t help but take in every detail, from the girth and length, the prominent veins and ridges, and the frenum barbell piercing nestled just under the blushing head. It was truly the most attractive cock you had ever seen in your life, and a fire began to rage in your core as you realized that was what had just hit your tongue. 

Bakugou’s cock… He… He wants me to suck him off? What if I’m not good enough… I shouldn’t! 

You could feel the heat of your essence beginning to dribble down your thighs, your poor excuse for underwear and hose completely soaked through. You could feel the throbbing all the way into your stomach, and it was impossible to deny that you were the horniest you had ever been. But this isn’t what you had expected or wanted to do. Was it? 

“That’s what you said, isn’t it?” Bakugou pulled your head a bit closer, giving you a few rough smacks to the cheek with his impressive cock. “You would do anything for me.” With your lips still tightly closed, he ran the tip of his cock across them, smearing his precum along your skin. “So be a good girl and give my cock a little kiss. Be sweet, now.” 

Although the demand was embarrassing, the pressure of his grip on your hair and his cock literally at your lips made you feel like you truly didn’t have a choice. He was in control of all of this. He could do anything he wanted. He could get you arrested, even. You had to do what he said, not only for your own benefit, but because you adored him. So, you placed a tender kiss right beneath the head, your eyes fluttering closed. Abandoning the t-shirt in your hands, you reached up to softly caress his cock, using your grip to move it up to give you more access to the underside. Your kisses were quite timid at first, but as one lingered against the underside of his shaft, the pulsing you could feel against your lips made your body ache. 

Eventually, your kisses became more passionate, even giving light suckles and little kitten licks, teasing the piercing and the sensitive head. Hearing him groan with the attention pulled your eyes up to look at him, a bit surprised to see that his cheeks were quite flushed, and his smirk had faded. Was he really enjoying this? 

Bracing himself against the wall with his free hand, Bakugou only further crushed you with his overwhelming presence and dominance, making you pause in worry. “Good girl. Now open your fucking mouth.” 

The instant your lips parted wide enough, Bakugou simultaneously pulled your head and pressed his hips forward, shoving his cock into your mouth, the tip stopping at the back of your tongue. Squeaking and groaning in surprise of the forced entry, you clutched on tightly to his thighs, only just having noticed that his shorts had fallen around his feet. His boxers had simply been pushed down out of the way, but the elastic kept them up on his hips for now. You were unable to move, his grip on your hair too tight to pull back. He didn’t want you to do the work? 

“That’s it, baby. Keep that mouth nice and open for my cock. You don’t gag easily do you?” You could hear the feigned concern in the question, and the only answer you could give is a furrow of your brow, new tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Oh well. Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” 

It was then that Bakugou began to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth slow and shallow. You were actually surprised that he started out so cautious, but you could tell that the pleasure was beginning to grow quickly. “Fuck babe, you’re such a good little slut for me.” Ever so slightly, he began to thrust faster and deeper, until the tip of his cock was hitting against the back of your throat. You were lucky that you didn’t have a strong gag reflex, as you knew that anyone who did would have already puked all over him. But you could take it. You could take it for him, to let him have his way with you just to stay with him a little longer. 

Though, you were finding that it was difficult, breathing in through your nose and trying to distract yourself from the burning in your jaw. Each thrust had your nose touching his pelvis and his balls slapping against your chin, which was coated in drool that dripped freely. It was so difficult to handle him, in fact, that you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks, only further displacing your already ruined makeup from crying earlier. You were a mess already, but the fire within you didn’t falter. If not for needing to grip onto his thighs to keep you balanced, you would be touching yourself again, the craving for your own pleasure just as suffocating as the dick in your throat. 

Still, your struggles were worth it. You got to watch Bakugou’s expression, his brow no longer furrowed in anger but in pleasure, his eyes glazed over with the undying need for release. His face was flushed and sweat was already beginning to drip down along his skin, his body still affected by the intense performance he hadn’t finished not even an hour ago. The way his body moved, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your grip on his thighs. He was so gorgeous. 

You had expected him to finish in your mouth, but after some time of fucking your throat raw, he stopped, holding the back of your head as he dug his cock as deep in as he could. You groaned and whined from the pressure, wishing desperately for relief while pushing on his thighs. With his own groan and hiss of pleasure, Bakugou pulled out of your mouth slowly, his smirk returning as he took in the sight of you. “You should see yourself. Filthy. Keep your tongue out.” When he finally removed himself completely, you took in a deep breath, gasping and panting to try and recover from the brutality you had to endure. Your tongue, however, stayed out as he demanded, allowing him to rub the underside of his tip against it. 

“You’re fuckin’ hot, you know that? So fucking sexy. I bet you have a nice tight little pussy, too.” After a few rough slaps of his cock against your tongue, he took a step back, stepping out of his shorts as he did so as well as his shoes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. “Stand the fuck up.” 

Swallowing hard, you took the moment of getting to your feet to wipe your chin of the mess of liquids, but you didn’t get much time to steady yourself. Snatched by the arm, Bakugou dragged you over a few feet towards the couch, grabbing you once again by the hair and forcing you down over the armrest. The couch was quite tall, so with your upper body pressed into the cushions and your hips snuggly in place against the armrest, you could barely touch the floor with your tiptoes. It was another uncomfortable position, but you ignored the pressure on your belly as your ass was suddenly exposed to the cold air of the room, your skirt flipped up out of the way. 

“Fuck you have a nice ass.” Gripping your backside with both hands firmly, Bakugou squeezed and spread you open, taking in the pleasant view. “What a fucking punk poser you are with these shitty fishnets. They don’t even do shit.” Digging his fingers into the holes along your crotch, he gave a rough yank, ripping the fabric open to give him easy access. “Holy fucking shit, you should see how wet you are, babygirl.” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his thumb stroking along your sex, the slick that coated your skin giving him no resistance. You could feel it, all over your inner thighs and aching cunt, but now your favorite person in the entire world could see it, too. He could see how wet he made you, how getting tossed around by him made you feel. 

I… I didn’t agree to all of this. I know it isn’t right. I didn’t want it to go this far, but… How can I stop him? Why would I stop him? He’s… I love him so much! I want him to touch me, even though I know I shouldn’t--

Your thoughts were cut off by your own gasp, your body tensing and legs bending at the knee involuntarily at the sudden pleasure that rocked through your body. You knew what it was, his tongue hot and eager against your clit as he ate you out. The sounds of him lapping at your cunt and grunting in delight at the taste of you had your mind spinning, the pleasure devouring your body. Not wanting to be heard by anyone outside, you moaned and gasped into the fabric of the couch cushion, digging your nails into it as you did everything you could to not writhe out of his grip. 

You were so sensitive to his touch that you could feel everything, from his nails digging into your hips to the way his tongue piercing slid across your clit. It was as if he knew exactly how to use it to be able to drive you completely insane, the hard metal sending shocks of lightning through your body with each stroke and flick. 

“Ba-Bakugou, ahh-!” You tugged and pulled at the couch cushion in your grip, digging the toes of your boots into the floor. “It’s too much! Wait--!” 

“Too much? Don’t be such a fucking wimp. You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You can take anything I give you.” As he stood back up, you looked up at him over your shoulder, having to peek through your messy hair to see him. That wicked and excited smirk was back, and you were only able to watch as he gripped your ass in his hands, sliding his cock between your cheeks to coat himself in your essence. “And I know what you want me to give to you. You want my dick inside you, babygirl?” 

Immediately, you stomach rolled nervously, eyes on the tip of his cock and the precum dribbling from it. You were on birth control, there wasn’t necessarily anything risky about that, but there was something else that pricked at the back of your mind. If you did this with him, then you knew that you could never settle for another man. You would want him forever, as you always had, but would you ever get a chance like this again? Would you ever even see him again after today? 

It doesn’t matter… I’ll do it! 

“Yes! Yes, Bakugou, I want you.” You were surprised as he leaned away from you for a moment, though what he was doing was quickly made clear as he came back into full view with a drumstick. The way that it was beaten and chipped told you that it was one he had used that performance, and the other was probably close by, set to be discarded or handed out to fans. 

“And why do you want me?” Bakugou dug the stick into your hose, giving a sharp yank to further rip the delicate fabric and expose more of your ass to him fully. “Just because I’m your favorite of the band?” 

“No!” You couldn’t help but become defensive. “I… I care about you more than that!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as he began to run the tip of the stick across your skin towards your cunt, mind racing with thoughts of what he was going to do with it. You could still feel and see his cock between your cheeks, hot and pulsing, and you were honestly surprised that he could hold out to tease you this long. Just seeing you like this, bent over and so submissive, was enough to keep him going long enough to torture you a bit. 

“You love me? Even though I’ve slapped you, pulled your hair, and fucked your throat until you went hoarse? Even though I have your ass bent over the couch and haven’t given you any more than a few minutes of pleasure?” Suddenly, he brought the stick down hard onto your ass, making you yelp out and tremble beneath him. The pain was so good! You wanted that again, and you received it without having to ask, a moan slipping from your lips. 

“Yes! I’ll love you no matter what you do to me! Always! I love it when you throw me around and use me like this! Please, use me more! I’m your little slut, Bakugou--” You were silenced as he leaned over you, his palm pressing into the side of your face and pushing the hair roughly away from obscuring your flushed and teary features. Now with your full attention, Bakugou smirked, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“No, no, my pet. Call me by my name.” 

The heat that rushed to your face made even his burning palms feel cool, trying to blink the tears away as they rushed down the side of your nose to soak into the couch. Was he being serious? He wanted you to call him by name… by his first name. Something that he never allowed anyone but those close to him to do, and you had seen him on more than one occasion snap at people when they did it. He was huge on respect and feeling dominant over others, so to him, his given name was sacred. 

“Ka… Katsuki…” You couldn’t speak any louder than an airy whisper, though his reaction was enough to tell you that he enjoyed it. Smirk growing, Bakugou sat up from over your back, his fingers curling into your ruined hair as he began to rut his hips against you. His cock stroked slowly against your ass, his tip teasingly pressing into your cunt before slipping up back between your cheeks. 

“Again.” The drumstick still in his free hand, he brought it down hard onto the already abused and welted cheek, right as your voice had begun to leave your lips. 

“Ka-ah! Katsuki!” With another whack, your body instinctively tried to shift away from him, though all it did was off set his cock. His tip slipped into you, making you pause, both from the feeling and from the irritated growl that left his chest. 

“What a naughty little bitch, trying to get me to fuck you before I say so.” 

“N-no, it was just--” 

“-- Well if you want it so fucking bad, I’ll give it to you!” Abandoning your hair and the drumstick, he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, sinking his cock into you with one quick snap of his hips. “I’ll show you who fucking owns you!” 

You didn’t have time to think or respond as he began to fuck you, fast and hard. Already, the pleasure was overwhelming, rolling through your body like electricity. It was perfect, everything you had ever imagined and more. The way he filled you up to the absolute brim, not leaving a single inch of you untouched, had the coil in your core tightening so quickly that you couldn’t even think about how to restrain it. You were going to cum very quickly, and you had never wanted to so badly in your life. 

“How does my cock feel inside you, slut?” 

“G-good,” You struggled to choke out a response behind your moans, which squeaked with surprise as he picked up the pace. “It feels good!” 

“You want to cum all over it, don’t you?” 

“Yes!” 

“Beg for it.” 

At first, you couldn’t even comprehend what he was asking you, your mind growing hazy to everything but the pleasure. “I… please!” You reached back, clutching onto his hand tightly, digging your nails into his skin in hopes that it would keep him latched to you. “Please! Please let me cum, Katsuki! I want to cum all over your cock! I love it!” 

When the pleasure stopped, all you could do was sit there in shock, the emptiness you felt as he pulled out of you making your stomach sink. Had you said the wrong thing? Before you could really ask him, you were grabbed by the elbows and lifted up off the couch, your body flipped so you were sitting on the armrest with your legs now loosely hooked around his hips. In the next moment, his strong arms were around your body, one hooked around your hips to pull them snug against his own while the other supported your upper body. What shocked you more than that was the fierceness of his lips against yours, kissing you with intense passion and aggressiveness that you couldn’t help but to give in. 

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you moaned and gasped softly into the kiss, his hips once again rutting against yours to stroke his length against your clit. For a moment, things seemed to feel different than they had during this entire experience. It wasn’t as if he were using you anymore, doing everything entirely for his own benefit. Instead, his touch was attentive, caressing you and moving your body into position without force. Even the way he kissed you was quick to change, from dominating your mouth to a more tender sweetness. You didn’t ever want it to end, but you allowed it when he pulled away, gazing up into his piercing crimson gaze as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“I want to see that pretty face when you cum.” The growl against your lips was teetering on threatening, as if he were warning you to not even think about turning away or hiding your face in his shoulder. “I want to see how good my cock makes you feel, baby. So cum all over it like a good girl.” As he began to sink his cock into you slowly, you couldn’t control your reactions to it, Your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as he bottomed out inside you, even biting down onto your bottom lip as you whined. 

“Yes, Katsuki--” Your voice hitched as he began to thrust into you again, his cock reaching even deeper inside you that it had been before. “--Please watch my face… See how happy you make me!” 

“That’s right, you slut. That’s because you belong to me, don’t you? You’d do anything for me.” As he fucked you, he relied on your grip on him to keep you up, both of his hands moving to grip your hips again. As the pleasure began to boil, you dug your nails into his back, your voice spiking as he became rougher with the added pain. 

“Yes! Yes, anything! I’ll be your little slut forever, Katsuki! Just please don’t stop!” It was impossible to tear your eyes away from his even if you wanted to, but it was more than just the fact that they were intoxicating. He may have wanted to watch your face for the visual expressions of pleasure, but he didn’t realize that his demand to keep your eyes on him gave away more than he probably had expected to. There was no anger or frustration that you had seen before. Instead, he seemed absolutely overwhelmed with the pleasure himself, just as you were, and the flushing of his cheeks paired with his upwards furrowed brow gave him almost a… desperate look. Like he was pushing himself to make sure he was fucking you as well as he possibly could. 

Was he feeling some self-consciousness about all of this, too? Or regret for pushing you to this, unwillingly at first? You didn’t know, and you knew in the end he wouldn’t tell you if you asked. 

“Fucking hell, babygirl, your pussy is so fucking tight,” Bakugou pressed his forehead against yours again, wrapping his arms back around your waist to hold you closer, both to the edge of the armrest and his body. “You’re the best fuck I’ve had in months. I hope you’re ready for my cum all over that pretty face--” 

“No!” You moved your arms to wrap around his neck instead, one hand pressing against the back of his head with fingers tangled in his hair. “Come inside me! Please, Katsuki, I want you to fill me up! It’s okay--” Your voice cracked with a cry of pleasure, your encouragement pushing him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

“Then cum for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock.” 

With that command, you couldn’t hold the coil still any longer. It shattered with his movements inside you, each rough hit of his tip against your cervix only prolonging your orgasm and sending wave after wave of harsh pleasure through your body. Trembling, you squeezed onto him tightly, clutching a fist full of his hair and kissing him roughly, moaning and sighing softly into the kiss as he didn’t give you a moment to breathe. Within moments after your climax, his thrusts became slower and erratic, before he was finally able to release. 

Groaning and cursing against your lips, Bakugou kept his gaze locked with yours, not giving you any room to move or pull back as he came inside you. How hot it was coating your walls made you shiver, squeezing his hips with your thighs and pulling yourself in closer. It was an incredible high, and as you both came down from it together, you both loosened your grip on each other. 

For a moment, you stayed connected, your head on his shoulder with your forehead pressed against his neck, able to feel his pulse against your skin and his chest heaving against yours. Had all of this really just happened? You were pressed up against your crush, his arms wrapped around you with one large hand stroking up and down your back softly. It was so strange compared to his aggressive demeanor just moments before. You knew that it should have made you happy, but instead, all it did was confuse you, and you felt a new wave of tears rush down your flushed cheeks. 

Able to feel your tears run down his chest, Bakugou gave a click of his tongue, prying you off him with little pressure. In the same moment, he slipped his semi flaccid dick from within your still aching cunt, pulling his boxers back into place to cover himself. “Fucking crying again? Seriously?” 

Steadying yourself on the armrest with your hands, you kept your gaze downcast, squeezing your legs together as you could feel his cum beginning to leak out. “I’m sorry, Bakugou, I just--” 

“--Katsuki!” 

His loud correction made you jump, looking up at his face in shock as he glowered down at you. His cheeks were still flushed red, but you were unsure if it was from the exertion of what you had just done or from something else. Reaching over, Bakugou wiped your cheeks roughly with his thumbs, before giving you a bump to the bottom of your chin, as if telling you to cheer up. “I already fucking told you, psycho fan. Katsuki.” 

“Right. I… should I leave now?” 

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you stared up at Bakugou expectantly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. With another click of his tongue, Bakugou bent over and snatched the forgotten drum stick up off the floor, taking a few steps away towards the vanity that was neatly organized with what you assumed he wore during a performance. Picking up what looked like a marker, Bakugou wrote something on the thick end of the drumstick, before presenting it to you. “Here.” 

Feeling your throat begin to close up as nerves began to take hold of you, it took you a moment to even find the courage to look at the stick, scared of what he might have written on it. Of course, it was probably just his autograph, which he had promised you at the beginning of all this. There wasn’t much time to look at it, though, before Bakugou huffed, shoving it against your chest and forcing you to grab it. “Take the damn thing!” 

Body still feeling quite weak, you squeaked as you fell backwards onto the couch from his push, clutching the drumstick tightly. You could see the tips of Bakugou’s ears flush as he scoffed, pointing towards the door that led out into the hallway. It was… cute. 

“Will you get out! Fuck, you’ve wasted enough of my time for now, go back to your friends!” 

For now…? 

Sitting up, you took a moment to fix your hair and wipe your face again, using the edge of your shirt to help you. “Do I look clean enough?” 

“You look just as fucking hot as you did when I first walked in. Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.” Walking over towards his pile of laundry, Bakugou picked up the shirt he had caught you with, tossing it at you and hitting you in the face. “And take that shit with you! You like it so much; you can have it.” 

Clutching both of your new prized possessions close to your chest, you hopped up like an excited child, smiling wide and squealing as you hopped towards the door. “Aahh, thank you, Katsuki! Thank you! I’m… sorry again for intruding…” 

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for the welts on your ass. Now fuck off!” Bakugou barked again, trying to rush you out for whatever reason. Stepping outside, you couldn’t help but take a moment to lean back against the wall when the door shut, breathing heavily and blushing fiercely. In truth, you weren’t sure what to make of that entire endeavor, thrown into a confusing mix of shame, embarrassment, arousal, and longing. You shouldn’t have done that, and yet, you just didn’t want to leave his side. 

“Got a little lost, didn’t ya, babe?” 

The squeal that left your lips was quickly doused by the t-shirt in your hand, jumping and nearly slamming yourself back against the wall in shock of the unexpected voice. Standing across the hall was Kirishima, whose presence you were surprised you didn’t notice immediately. The mischievous smirk on his lips quickly widened into a pleasant grin, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall to stand up straight. Had he been waiting for you to come out?

“You skipped the bathroom, you know! It’s down that way. I decided to come look for you before we were forced to call security guards, but I guess Bakugou found you first.” 

“A-ah, sorry! I… saw him go in his room and I just wanted an autograph.” Holding your treasures close to your chest, your stomach rolled nervously as Kirishima leaned in closer, his eyes locked on the visible part of the drumstick. 

“Aahh, I get it! Bakugou can be kind of a jerk, I’m surprised! But uh… if you want to convince anyone else that you were just getting an autograph, you should really go to the bathroom. I’m sure Bakugou didn’t give you a mirror, but you look like you had a real good time.” You could hear the tone in his voice lower from friendly to flirtatious, and you quickly tried to fix your hair. 

“H-he told me I looked fine!” 

“To him you probably do. May I?” Still grinning with a friendly disposition, you glanced at both of Kirishima’s hands as he held them up in an offering of help, before nodding timidly. He began to run his rough fingers through your hair, fixing it back into a state of normalcy with a tender touch that was so opposite to what you had just experienced with Bakugou. “You’re cute. I can see why he was so into you right away.” 

“That isn’t… normal for him?” Your eyes glanced over Kirishima’s exposed muscular arms and sides, the deep cut in the arms of his tank showing all the way to his hips. You thought you saw his smile turn sly out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Nah sweetheart. Bakugou might be a lot of things, but he doesn’t go for random chicks.” Seemingly satisfied, Kirishima also used his thumbs to wipe your cheeks and under your eyes. “Such a messy thing.” 

“Thank you, Kirishima… I’m… I’m really sorry for causing you trouble.” Your heartbeat grew heavier as the redhead in front of you didn’t step back, towering over you just as the blonde had. “I’ll go to the restroom and then... Back to the group.” 

With a chuckle, Kirishima nodded, tapping the end of the drumstick a few times. “You do that! I’ll meet you back there, just going to have a few words with our drummer. Careful with this stuff, yeah? Someone might just try to take it.” 

“I will…”

“Go on, then, scoot.” With a nudge, you were pushed forward down the hall gently, only taking a moment to look back at the pleasant smiling man behind you. He was so different from Bakugou and yet they were the closest friends in the band. You knew that Bakugou was going to tell him everything, and you could only hope that it was going to end up a positive conversation. You hated the thought of Kirishima spending the rest of the VIP visit looking at you in disgust, or even the possibility of him putting you down in front of everyone. 

Flustered, you scurried down the hall into the bathroom, slipping into a stall. After pushing down what was left of your hoes and your drenched thong, you plopped to sit, relieving yourself as you held the t-shirt and drumstick close to your chest. Though, it dawned on you that you hadn’t even looked at what Bakugou had written on the stick, so growing curious, you held it with both hands and spun it slowly to look over every inch. The ridges, dents, and splints in the wood were marks of every beat Bakugou had played, a solid crack down the middle representing just how powerful he was. 

In truth, you felt like that drumstick. You were always a splintered person, emotionally broken and splintered off from the world. And yet, Bakugou had touched you with his passion. But did that mean that you were truly broken now? Could you ever be used again by any other person, or would you snap into pieces the instant your heart tried to find its beat again? 

Eyes tearing up, you tried to blink them away, carefully running your finger along the crack until it met with a smudge of black writing. Unlike what you expected, there was no autograph. Instead, the words “Call Me” were scribbled in the black ink, along with a series of numbers. 

Is that… his cell phone number?! It’s different from what I had found… Those must have been fakes.

Reaching down into your boot, you pulled out your phone, having placed it there for safe keeping, though you were surprised it stayed in place the entire time in Bakugou’s room. Without an ounce of hesitation, you created his contact and started a message, sending it so quickly you didn’t even consider the consequences, though his words did ring in your ear loud enough to make you think he was right beside you. 

“Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.”

He said to call him, but… texting is the same, right?

Me 10:45 pm: Katsuki? 

Bakugou 10:47 pm: hey babygirl. ever been to an after party? 

[shorkbrian]

Could I request a scenario which darling explain why it would be a really bad idea to have a kid to Yan Kirishima and yan Bakugou (separately)? And if the yans don't convinced, darling threaten to kill themselves and the child, thank you!

Warnings - pregnancy mention, suicide mention, dub con, alluded-to-kidnapping. non-consensual everything. 

BAKUGOU

“And why the fuck not?” “I don’t want one! You can’t just igno-”

“That’s a lame-ass excuse.”

Bakugou was staring you down from the other side of the kitchen island, arms crossed, brow arched. He was challenging you, daring you to try and defy him. Normally you wouldn’t - you’d roll over and show your belly, submit to the man before you. But this was one of those things that you couldn’t back down on, no matter what.

“I don’t hear a real reason sweetheart. Sounds like you’re just being a difficult little shit.”

He began stalking around the island, rounding on you like a predator circles its prey.

“Bakugou, I said I don’t want to.”

“An’ I said I do. You don’t get to fucking tell me no, I thought we’d gotten over this shit by now.”

You were backing up as he strode forward, pushing you back towards the wall. He always did this, intimidating you, trapping you, invading your space and baring his teeth until you showed your neck to avoid getting ripped to shreds. 

“If you don’t have a legit reason, then I guess there must not be one, huh?”

He pressed, and the next thing you knew, you were plastered against the wall, trying to shrink in one yourself as Bakugou pressed himself to your front. You started tearing up. This was one thing you couldn’t compromise on.

“Bakugou, you make me do this and I’ll hate you forever. I don’t want-”

“Yeah yeah, that’s what you said your first night here, remember?” He cut you off. He was always interrupting, his words, thoughts, opinions taking precedence over yours. 

You did remember your first night here. It was spent kicking and screaming, biting all over the blonde man as he stripped you down, as he broke your trust, and broke your heart.

“Just wait until I knock you up, you’ll fucking love it. I’ll get you a bunch of nice shit, I’ll even rub your damn feet. It’ll be great.” He cooed, eyes glinting as he leaned further against you, his weight trapping you against the wall.

“I’ll kill myself, and the stupid kid.”

Bakugou froze, the hand that was trailing up your side stilling as he processed your hoarse whisper.

He pulled away from you, until he could fully see your face. His red eyes were wide, searching your own, trying to gauge if you were serious, or if this was another bluff you were trying to threaten him with.

You were dead serious.

Realizing this, Bakugou growled, before clasping a hand around your throat, squeezing gently. He leaned close, until his mouth was by your ear, lips tickling the cartilage.

“As if I’d ever fuckin’ let you. You aren’t ever gettin’ away from me.”

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

KIRISHIMA

Kirishima pulled you closer, nuzzling his face into your hair as he cuddled into your side.

“Babe, y’know how I’ve mentioned how I love kids?”

Your muscles tensed.

They were already sore from the rough fucking you’d endured earlier, so the sudden fear racing through your body made them ache even more. You stayed facing away from Kirishima, trying not to bolt from his grasp.

You knew if you attempted that, he’d tackle you down before you could even get off the bed. He liked to play rough, and it’d only serve to rile him up again. Right now, you didn’t think your battered body could survive another round with the big man.

“Uhm, yeah?”

Your voice quivered.

Kirishima didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t let on.

“Wouldn’t it be great to have one of our own?”

And there it was - the one thing that terrified you.

You could deal with the stalking, the kidnapping, the complete and utter dehumanization. The rape, the groping, the way Kirishima acted as if this was all normal, as if you would eventually come to love him as soon as you got “settled in”. You’d been “settling in” for months now.

“I know that they’re not your fav.” he rushed out “But I really think we’d be good parents, y’know? You’re so gentle, and you’re a really good teacher! And I provide, and I could play with ‘em, and it’d be perfect.”

Except it wouldn’t.

You shifted, scooting forward a few inches, trying to separate your body from the man behind you. 

He followed.

“Eiji... I don’t know if I’m ready for that...” You chose your words carefully. If you exploded, if you yelled and screamed and tried to hit the man, he’d put you in “time out”. 

“Okay, but you have me!” He was smiling, you could hear it in his voice “You don’t have to do anything by yourself. I’ll be there every single step of the way.”

The man sighed into your hair, his arms tightening around you again.

“Just imagine... You ‘n me, sitting out back, watching little ones run around. They’d be so cute, I know they would.” He leaned over to plant a kiss on your cheek “Anything that comes from you is adorable.”

Your throat was dry. “Little ones? As in, multiple?” you rasped. You suddenly felt nauseous. 

“Yeah, I was thinking like, two or three? How many would you want? I’ll help you make as many as your heart desires!” He laughed.

You winced. Your heart desired zero. This was too much

“I don’t want a baby.” 

When Kirishima didn’t answer, breathing behind you, you continued.

“I don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to have anything to do with you! I don’t want to have your kids, I don’t want to make anything with you, I can’t - I won’t. I’d die before doing any of that!”

You realized you had started crying at some point during your outburst, hot tears rolling down your face. They dampened the pillow underneath your head.

Silence filled the room. Was Kirishima even breathing? You could hardly breathe yourself.

After a few long moments, the big arms wrapped around your waist slowly pulled you onto your back, so Kirishima could see your tear-streaked face.

“I know-” He looked sad, wetness shimmering in his own eyes “I know baby.”

A kiss was pressed to your forehead, red hair tickling your cheeks.

“It’s a lot, and it’s understandable that you’re overwhelmed. But I’ll wait until you’re ready, okay? However long it takes. I’ll always be here for you.”

You felt numb.

[necros-writing-stuff]

Leighton and Kylar (separate, both male) fucking a delinquent who's been making his life hell into submission?

Concerning the younger au: Leighton taking pity on Kylar because when they see Whitney bullying them they get flashbacks to Bailey shoving them around, like Whitney being taken under Bailey's wing.

NSFW below (tw for non/dubcon, Kylar's breeding kink disregards gender, mostly hurt no comfort)

Kylar

They're sick of it.

The shoving, mocking, yelling.

Kylar has put so much effort into showing their love - they fucking stole expensive chemicals just to make blow-darts to keep you safe and yet you still call them a creep.

You still threw him in the pool, stuffed him in lockers. One time you had leaned in like your were about to kiss him, only to turn and bite his cheek.

You wanted to play rough? Kylar can play rough.

You can't fight back bound like that. Even as you squirm on the floor of your bedroom, hogtied and gagged, you look at him in disgust.

But he'd timed it well. No one was around to help you, just the two of you in this private space. It would be enough.

Cutting your clothes from your body had sent a rush up Kylar's spine, not really caring if it knicked the skin underneath as he did so, just excited to finally touch you unabated.

You keep screaming, mouth stuffed by your own underwear and a tape covering.

"Shhhh, you'll like it, you'll see," he coos, gently rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and spreading them wide so he can see your sex fully on display.

It's wonderful. So inviting and perfect for him.

"Oh!" Kylar yells out, before rushing to a bag and bringing back lube, "I almost forgot! Silly me."

He's generous with the load as he fingers you, small hands slickening you up in a reluctantly pleasant way.

He can't wait, can't stop himself getting his cock out and lining it up with your hole. He doesn't have time to be gentle, you could be interrupted at any minute.

Your body goes stiff from the stretch as he pushes in, back arching even further off of the floor in an attempt to create distance between your hole and the freak's length.

It's not meant to be like this, he's not meant to be able to abuse you.

But here you are, being used as a human fleshlight by the guy you mock daily.

Little shocks of pleasure shoot through your body, the friction good.

His dick feels huge, invading every inch inside of you. He won't stop babbling about how you just need to be shown your place, how you just need to be shown that being bred and stuffed by him is how you should be.

He's delusional, kissing your skin as he hammers away, even claiming he loves you and that you love him back, he knows it.

"This is my first time, you know?" he breaths into your neck, hugging your limp, aching slightly turned on body close as he fucks into you. "I always knew it would be you, ever since that school trip to ice rink all those years ago."

The ice rink? When you'd been fucking eight? You'd grabbed him as he fell and said "Be careful," before skating off. That was it? That's when this all started?

How long has he been planning this?

You start crying now, reality of the situation setting in. You're completely at his mercy, he could hurt you so bad if he wanted to. He already was.

"You're crying because you're so happy, right? That I'm going to fill you up? You're gonna make me a Daddy, you know?"

What a delusional freak.

You whimper when you feel something warm fill your insides, Kylar yelling out on top of you before his sweating body collapses over yours.

Theres a tiny moment of disappointment that you didn't finish, but you push it down as soon as it registers. You can't think like that, no matter what.

"I'm going to take you home, so we can be like this forever," he strokes your cheek, kissing your chest. He looks so reverent.

The last thing you see is him pulling out some needle and jabbing your arm with it.

Leighton

What a brat you are, stood on top of the dinner tables riling up the other students.

A smaller kid was lying on the floor, holding their face and crying after you'd sucker-punched them for groping.

Right in front of Leighton.

Now you're trying to hide behind your fellow students, but they're not looking happy to stand in his way.

The crowd parts as he approaches, letting him reach up and snatch you by the collar, dragging you from the table even as you claw at his hands.

You don't stop struggling even as he pushes you into his office, calling him every name in the book as you do so.

"Let me go! You old, perverted, ugly-"

He fists your hair, shoving you face first into his desk. It's hard enough to hear the slap of your cheek hitting the polished surface.

"You really need to learn to be quiet," Leighton stands behind you, rubbing his crotch against your ass. You can feel his hard-on through your uniform.

No amount of squirming gets you loose from the grip on your hair, nor the one bending your arm behind your back.

"Fuck you!" you spit, kicking out. It's useless.

Leighton lets go of your hair and starts shuffling your uniform down your legs, exposing your tender flesh. You hear the shuffle of his belt, feel him press back into your skin and rub.

You're breathing is hard, you might be hyperventilating, you just want to go.

You hear a hacking noise, then feel fingers press against your hole, wet with want you can only presume is spit.

"Say you're sorry. Tell me you're sorry and I'll be gentle," Leighton whispers into your ear, teasing you with his long digits.

"N-no," you defiantly whimper out, trying to fight off the shudder that shoots up your spine.

One finger pushes in, then another, slightly aided by the saliva. There's a brief sting, but the rough petting of your insides feels good.

Why does it have to feel good?

Your hips jump, pumping against the wood you're pressed to. Then the third finger is added and it burns.

"Last chance. You're going home limping either way, choose whether it's from pleasure or pain," it's a horrible ultimatum.

But you don't want to be hurt. You don't want to cum, either. And you don't have to, you can just have it so he gets what he wants in a way that doesn't hurt.

"... 'm sorry."

"Louder," he demands.

"I'm sorry!" you lift your head from the desk and look him in the eyes, hoping to sound as convincing as possible.

The green stare looking down at you is sharp. It's like a hawk, a predator watching prey.

"Good."

Leighton spits more into his hand, using the foamy liquid to wet his cock before he spits on yoru hole as well.

You clench your eyes shut as he pushes in, biting your lip and trying not to cry out.

It still burns, but its not bad. You can adjust, if he let's you.

And he does, for a few brief seconds Leighton seems happy enough to simply enjoy your heat.

But his hips start snapping into your ass regardless, pap-papping echoing through the office.

Heat blooms in your stomach, you're still not sure if that's good or not. But its better than bleeding.

Hot breath hits your neck, the headmaster panting like a dog from the fast pace he keeps.

That heat builds, muscles tensing in your stomach. The drag of Leighton's length tantalising even as you're wishing him dead within your own mind.

You're moaning. You're letting him use you - being good, so he let's go of your stiff arm to keep your hips still.

The pace only increases now Leighton can shift his weight, man jackhammering into you with no regard for your poor hips slamming against his desk.

It's shameful of close you are to cumming, horrid that that old pervert is the one drawing it from you.

You finally snap, trying to hide that you're having an orgasm by going stiff and biting your lip. Leighton isn't fooled.

"That's it, good girl/boy. I'll have you addicted to my cock by the end of things."

Leighton pulls out, pumping his dick in his hand as he sprays his hot seed all over your ass and back.

"Don't forget you have detention tonight, too."

[catzula]

(Don't) Let me be the judge of that

a/n: enemies to lovers w Osamu. Nothing more to say.

genre: mostly fluff, enemies to lovers au, fem!reader

warnings: Osamu being an ass in the beginning, swearing, mentions of social anxiety, 5.6k

《Synopsis: Osamu Miya is too judgemental for his own good, never accepting he's simply wrong. You're here to change that.》

Osamu Miya had a habit of judging people. It would take him one look and a few seconds to decide whether he liked someone or not, the answer often being the latter. But the worst part was just how stubborn and maybe a bit self-centered Osamu was. He trusted himself a little too much, and it was impossible to change his opinion of someone after he had made up his mind, and if he didn't like someone, that was it, he would never grow to like them.

Or so everyone -including Osamu himself- thought until you entered his life.

~

You weren't surprised to feel the brown pair of eyes looking your way when your professor announced the project was in pairs. "Decide on your partners until the end of the hour and give me a list of the groups." He told the class and leaned back in his chair.

"Y/N!" You heard him before you saw him, a mop of bleached blond hair coming into your view right after. "Hi, Atsumu." You offered him a smile as you pocketed your phone, tilting your head when he frowned in response. "I already told you, Y/N, it's 'Tsumu to you!"

"Why?" You sighed annoyedly. Having had the conversation once before, you knew damn well he wouldn't stop until you did what he wanted, but you still chose to resist.

"Because," the boy whined, "it's a sign of our friendship. Only my friends and 'Samu call me that, and I want you to call me by my nickname, too." You chose not to talk about how he excluded his twin from his friends, knowing that would only lead to another argument. 

"Who even came up with this stupid name? It doesn't make any sense, it's only one syllable shorter, and it's even harder to say!" Atsumu's warm-brown eyes narrowed. "It's not stupid!" He protested, pouting until you gave up.

"Okay, okay, whatever. 'Tsumu-kun. There, happy?"

"Tsumu." The blond corrected with a grin.

"Kun." You added (to rile him up)

"Only Tsumu, goddammit! We're close enough."

"Are we, though? We only know each other for... what? A week?"

"A month!" Atsumu gasped as he corrected you. "And it doesn't matter how long we know each other, okay? It's a matter of how well we connect." His frown got deeper when you made a face, muttering something about him being cheesy, so he decided to switch strategies.

"But you always call me by my name when we're alone, Y/N-chan." Words spoken as flirtatiously as possible, Atsumu never missed the chance to tease you.

"A-atsumu, what the fuck, don't make it sound weird!" You exclaimed, already aware of the murmurs starting to spread around the room and the eyes turning on you both.

"There we go," Atsumu grinned when he heard his name falling from your lips, "wasn't that hard, was it?"

"You just had to be a little shit." You sighed, and his grin only spread wider. "I am a little shit, aren't I? Thank god I'm handsome. Anyway, I'm writing our names down." 

"It feels like we're getting married, seeing our names standing next to each other like this." He sighed, wiping the nonexistent tears from the corner of his eyes as he handed the paper to the person sitting behind you. You heard someone gasp at his words, and you never wanted to hit someone with a chair this much in your life.

"Shut the hell up!" You whisper-yelled, only feeling your anger growing when he sent you an innocent look. "What? I'm just saying-"

"I swear to god," You flared, "I'll tell everyone that one time you ran out of the library screaming when you saw a cockroach if you don't shut up." His grin disappeared as soon as you spoke the words, eyes widening and mouth shutting.

"You promised to never talk about it!" You had to admit that it did feel powerful to see him so panicked, face flushed, the sleazy look that was almost always in his eyes nonexistent and replaced with something similar to fear.

"It's up to you wether I talk about it or not." You shrugged.

~~~

"Woah, you look tired." You heard a familiar voice say as he plopped right next to you on the bench, holding a homemade bento in his hands, wrapped too neatly to be made by him.

"And whose fault is that?" You muttered, trying to conceal your murderous intent towards him. Even just thinking about your day gave you headaches. You groaned when he shrugged, focusing on unwrapping the bento box. "Yours, idiot!" 

"What did I d-" You winced when he spoke after taking a big spoon of rice and showing you everything that was in his mouth. 

"Your fans wont let me be! Ever since we started hanging out, it's almost like I'm being harassed."

"That's not necesarrily my fault." Atsumu shrugged, proceeding with another bite of his food. 

"It is, actually. I know you like to tease me, but if you keep saying shit like 'oh look our names together, feels like we're getting married' or that fucking 'you call me by my name when we're alone' you make it worse! You know how many people came up to me and asked if we were sleeping? One even asked me if we were engaged! We've known each other for two weeks, for god's sake!"

"A month." Atsumu corrected, shutting up when you sent him a look. "That's not even the worst part. Whenever I don't give an answer, or the answer they want to hear from me, people start to-" 

They started to get mean. Some even insulted you without batting an eye, speaking of how you weren't even pretty, that you had to be sleeping with Atsumu to be near him, and many fucking more.

"What?" He asked. "People started to what?" You knew he could sense how tense you were starting to get, but you always started to fight with him whenever he asked if people were bothering you, never answering his question, despite the answer being obvious. 

"Nothing, its just frustrating." You shrugged, taking a bite out of your meal to stop yourself from talking -or crying-. 

"Look, I can guess what's going on." Atsumu sighed, "and the only reason I can think of of you not telling me what's happening is that you don't want me to interfere, but you should tell them to piss off, already." He advised you the same stupid sentence he had been advising the past few days, ever since he noticed how his fans acted towards you. 

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, jackass. It would be easier if you stopped being so extra." You muttered into your cup full of coffee, feeling a tinge of guilt, putting the whole blame on him and not admitting you probably should tell people to mind their business already.

But you just weren't the type of person that was comfortable with talking to people you didn't know or know well enough, and you certainly weren't going to tell people to 'piss off' so comfortably.

You gulped when he sighed. "Okay, sorry, you're right, and I went overboard. But I gotta go to training now. It'll end around 5 p.m, so come to my place at 6?" He raised to his feet as he took one last sip of his drink when he finished his food.

"And if anyone asks you if we're married again, you have my permission to say yes." He grinned, patting your hair twice before you rolled your eyes, but couldn't stop a giggle from escaping your lips. "Oh, thank you, gracious lord." You cried out dramatically, scoffing when he pinched your cheek. "Exactly."

~~~

"I'm going into shower." Atsumu announced as Osamu shuffled through the fridge. 

"And?" The grey-haired twin asked from the fridge without pulling back, locating the eggs, and taking some out. "Do you want my help or something?

He expected an equally sarcastic comment from his brother, lifting his head as he closed the door of the fridge. "Cook for 3 today, a friend's coming over." He heard him say instead.

"A friend?" Osamu quirked his brow, ready to laugh given the punchline, but it never came.

"Yep." His twin answered instead, popping the p like some idiot middle schooler. "She's nice, you'll like her." He grinned, and Samu was already sure that wouldn't be the case. "Is this the girl ya can't stop talking about?"

Osamu couldn't say he wasn't interested since it was rare to see his brother drawn to anything but himself and volleyball, especially not to a girl. And judging by how Atsumu spoke about you, it was evident he had a particular liking to you.

The smug grin on Atsumu's face gave Osamu his answer, to which he grimaced. "don't wanna hear a fucking sound."

"She's coming over to study, you pervert! We have a project together."

"Yeah, whatever, I said what I said." Osamu shrugged, turning his back to Atsumu and started to chop the vegetables, unable to shake off the unlucky feeling pooling in his stomach.

~~~

"Oi, shit-head, does yer friend have any allergies or somethin'?" Osamu knocked on the bathroom door that had steam coming from the gap beneath it. He waited as Atsumu closed the water. "Eh, I'm not sure." 

"Yer not sure? How long do you even know her?"

"A month." Atsumu answered, turning the water back on. A month? It wasn't like Atsumu didn't get close to a girl he knew for such a short time, but Osamu had never, ever seen Atsumu bring a girl home.

"Hurry up, already, what the hell are you even doing in there?!" Osamu shouted, knocking on the bathroom door and holding back an urge to kick down the door when he heard the happy humms of his brothers.

"Oi, idiot, I'm telling you- goddammit." He clenched his teeth when he heard the doorbell. 

"Hurry up or you're not eating." Osamu knocked one last time before he rushed to the door to let you in. 

He opened the door without thinking of opening the lights as well, and since it was well after the sun had set, he couldn't see what you looked like, but he knew he wasn't expecting- well, you.

You were bent forward, trying to undo the messy knot your shoelaces had formed when the door opened. Sending a glance at the silhouette standing at the door, you turned your attention back to untying the mess your shoes were. 

"Hey, Atsumu." You muttered without taking another look, assuming it was Atsumu who had greeted you. You didn't see how Osamu's face soured, dark-grey eyes narrowing at your form with some hostility he couldn't help.

In your defense, the light wasn't on, and you hadn't taken a good look at the boy standing before you, so it wasn't exactly your fault for not realizing it was Osamu, right?

No.

Strike one.

Osamu hated when people mixed him with Atsumu. Did they not see the bright platinum gray hair, clearly different from his twins piss colored one? Osamu hadn't dyed his hair for the sake of looking nice, and he certainly hadn't sat in the hairdresser for hours long just to get mixed up with his twin again.

You had noticed your mistake as soon as you stood up and looked at the tall figure staring at you, leaning on the door frame and his arms tied on his chest almost defensively. "O-oh," Osamu heard you mutter softly, not sure as to why your voice sent goosebumps down his arms. "You're not Atsumu."

The somewhat disappointed tone of your voice made him furrow his brows. The smile you had on your lips dropped as soon as you locked eyes with the grey ones, familiar yet strange, and Osamu could feel himself getting more irked by the second.

The truth was, you weren't exactly disappointed, mostly embarrassed and a little surprised, although the unsatisfied look his eyes held kept making you even more nervous. He waited as your eyes wandered over his face, over the scowl resting on his lips, looking so mean and hostile, you found yourself taking a defensive step away from him.

"I- uh," Osamu's scowl didn't move an inch when you forced a smile at him, and you checked the time on your phone to break the eye contact. "Atsumu told me to come by at 6, and... is he- is he home?"

"Yeah," The boy talked for the first time, and you noticed how his voice was deeper than his twin's. It was nicer, too, you thought. "He's in the shower, though he should be-"

"Y/N, you're here!" You heard the twin you were familiar with speak your name, standing in the entrance, hair still wet and dripping with excess water. 

"Don't get cocky, I'm here for the project." You rolled your eyes with fake annoyance, unsuccessful at hiding your smile. Osamu felt something in him shift as he watched the change in your demeanor, feeling- what, jealous? 

"You met 'Samu?" Atsumu approached you, not missing the tension hanging in the air. "Y/N, this is the inferior twin, 'Samu, as you can also tell. And 'Samu, this' Y/N." He introduced you, making you laugh awkwardly, but Osamu kept his glower. 

"Don't mind him, he can be an asshole sometimes." Atsumu whispered at you, which anyone even passing by outside the house could hear. "Look at who's talking." You told him with a snarky quirk of a brow, making Atsumu frown. "Mean."

The blond pulled you towards the living room, making you settle on the couch and plopping next to you. Osamu caught the glance you sent his way when he didn't sit, leaning against the wall that was across you, instead, and you found he still had that frown that seemed to be imprinted on his face.

Osamu's frown was deepening on his lips at how comfortable you looked next to Atsumu, the friendly banter you had the exact opposite of how uncomfortable you looked next to Osamu. Maybe it was the natural competitiveness that came with having a twin, but Osamu hated this feeling. Why couldn't you smile at him like that, too? Yeah, maybe he was acting like a dick, but wasn't Atsumu also?

"Go dry your hair, idiot, you'll get sick!" Osamu heard you tell his twin, watching you hit him with the nearest pillow. "Hm?" Atsumu turned to you with a grin, leaning towards you for easy access to his hair. "I thought ya could do it for me?"

Osamu watched you with interest as you glared at his twin with annoyance. "I hope you get sick." You narrowed your eyes at him. "If you keep this attitude around other people, I'll kick you."

"Alright, alright, I won't flirt with ya when other people are around." Atsumu grinned, and Osamu felt his appetite vanishing. "I'll just leave." He muttered to himself, closing the door behind him just after hearing your answer to his twin.

"Don't flirt with me, ever?" 

You had spoken it with such genuine annoyance that if you had listened closely, you could hear Osamu laughing from the other side of the door.

~

So, the meeting with his twin was anything but successful.

Osamu was very blunt with how much he hadn't liked you, his glare reminding you of the ones Atsumu had whenever his fans approached him, cold and cruel.

Grey was clearly the superior choice, though, that you found yourself thinking as you gazed at the blond. "What? Lost in my handsomeness?" Atsumu teased you when he noticed you weren't paying attention to the project. You had to hold yourself back physically before you said something along the lines of how his twin was hotter, but you knew he wouldn't talk to you ever again, so you shut your mouth and took the teasing. 

Luckily, Osamu was barging through the door before Atsumu could continue, bored-looking eyes finding you two where he had left you. "Dinner's ready." He told you and left the room.

"Food," Atsumu salivated, jumping on his feet the moment he heard his brother, ready to sprint to the kitchen. You shuffled awkwardly in your place when you felt his warm-brown gaze on you, expecting you to stand up, as well, and eat.

"I- uh," you muttered. "I'm not really hungry, and I ate before I came here." Lies. "Can't we just finish this project instead?"

Strike two.

Just as he started to think you weren't horrible, Osamu gasped from the other side of the wall when he heard you (the walls were thin), his teeth clenching in annoyance. Really? Did you prefer doing a fucking project over his food? The food he had cooked?

Osamu was never a forgiving person, but this- this was something he could never forgive, he decided on the spot.

"Oh, come on, stop bein' a baby." Atsumu told you, pulling you by your hand on your legs, he knew you well to understand you were hesitating to go there because of his brother. Or more as he was making you nervous and you would rather not eat than go in his presence. "Osamu's the best cook around, you'll see." He joked so you could relax a little, making you giggle nervously.

Strikeout.

Osamu flinched at the words, eyes narrowing on you as you entered the kitchen. Did you doubt his abilities? 

You thanked the boy as he placed your plate in front of you, steaming hot food, smelling so good that you wanted to bury your face in it, but the grey gaze hovering over you was making you so nervous that it made it impossible for you to take even a small bite.

"Do ya like it?" Atsumu asked you, noticing how you were nudging the food with your fork without eating. You flinched in your place, your friends' voice pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality, to which you mustered a smile and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, it's- it's delicious. Thank you." You turned back to Osamu, who scoffed at your words, causing you to frown. 

You could tell he didn't like you one bit, even though you weren't sure as to why, but you discarded the thought. He was free to like or dislike you, which, in this case, was the latter, though it stung a little since you thought he seemed nice when- well, when he didn't frown at you.

He seemed like the type you would either get along or hate mutually.

He had obviously chosen the latter, and both Atsumu and you could feel the almost hateful air coming from Osamu as he glanced at you with a disinterested, blank face. "Did ya have a bad day or something, 'Samu?" Atsumu broke the silence, and you felt like you could finally take a breath. "You look like someone kicked ya in the nuts."

"Fuck off, 'Tsumu." 

"Nah, you've been acting like a dick all day. What's with ya today?"

"I said fuck off!" Osamu warned his twin another time, this time successfully silencing the blonde. 

"Thank you," You broke the awful silence that followed Osamu's voice. "The food was delicious." You told him after you finished your food. You could still feel his gaze over you as you placed your plate in the sink and retreated to the living room. 

"Your brother didn't like me very much, did he?" Osamu heard you mutter to his brother after he had left, too, feeling a fracture of guilt in his chest as he caught the disappointment in your voice.

"It's just... 'Samu. Don't worry about it." Atsumu told you, closing the door behind you.

~

Osamu was hesitant to knock on the living room door.

It had been about two hours since you had gone in, and knowing his brother- he couldn't be sure as of what's to happening.

"Oi, 'Tsumu!" He barged in the room, discarding the thoughts before he gave up. 

"Shut up." Atsumu whispered, eyes lifting from his phone screen for a second and glancing at you. You, who was lying on the sofa and- sleeping?

"She fell asleep." Atsumu grinned at his brother's questioning gaze. "I'll carry her back to the car. Can you drive her home?"

Osamu didn't hold back his snicker when Atsumu's voice dropped volume as he asked the favor from his brother, still not able to admit to himself the defeat.

"Your hair is still wet, idiot," Osamu mumbled, his eyes wandering over your figure. "And I will not take care of you if you go out and get sick."

"What?" Atsumu grinned mockingly. "Are you gonna carry her then? Be a hero for the girl you've been acting like an ass all day? What the fuck was up with you today?"

"I don't like her." Osamu shrugged.

"She's not the kind of girl you think of her as." Atsumu quickly responded, already aware of what his twin had decided about you. Atsumu knew Osamu too well, his stubbornness even more, so he wasn't exactly surprised when he shrugged. 

"Let me be the judge of that, and I don't have to like her."

"Whatever, you do you. But you know, you don't have to dislike her just because she's my friend, too."

Osamu stood silent, eyes falling back on you. He knew Atsumu was partly right, but he had his reasons not to like you, right? Osamu pocketed his car keys, nodding at his twin and lifting you off the couch.

Atsumu grinned at the audible gulp his twin took when you shifted uncomfortably in Osamu's arms, snuggling your body closer to him, your hand fisting his shirt unconsciously. 

You woke up with Osamu hovering over you, and it took you a second or two to notice you were in a car and he was tying your seatbelt. He was so close, yet so careful not to touch you, his smell -a different perfume than his brother's- filling your newly awakened senses with him, him, him. Your eyes met his when he tied it and pulled back, a brow quirking up as his frown settled on his lips. 

"Did I wake you up?" He muttered as he retreated to his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he fixed his mirror, pushing back the few stray strands back from his face. Osamu turned back to you when you stood quiet, a sarcastic smile quirking his lips upwards, but it fell as soon as you talked.

"Wh- uh, where's Atsumu?"

Osamu clenched his teeth, not knowing why it angered it so much that his twin was the first thing that came to your mind as soon as you woke up.

"Home." Osamu gritted through his teeth. "I'm dropping you home, 'Tsumu gave me the address."

He glanced at you when you stood silent. "He doesn't have a license." Osamu couldn't help but add, a feeling stirring in him when you laughed at that. "So he failed the exam and you passed? That must've been a blow on his ego."

"Oh, you have no idea." Osamu found himself laughing with you.

Silence. He could feel your growing anxiety, and you could tell he was nervous as well, the taps of his fingers on the stirring wheel echoing in the car. His hair reflecting the colors coming from the road, yellow, red, and green, the features of his face illuminated, you thought he looked too handsome to be true.

"Why are you friends with him?" Osamu blurted out after a few seconds of silence, but the question didn't seem to surprise you. "Why is anyone friends with anyone?" You teased.

"Atsumu isn't exactly the type people wanna be friends with." 

"Hm," he heard you humm thoughtfully, not answering the question. "If we're asking questions, well, here's one. Why don't you like me?"

He could feel your light gaze on him as he kept his eyes on the road. It wasn't if he liked you or not, but you asked him why. He found himself wondering where that annoying meak girl he had met inside went. "And you don't like me."

"No," you answered honestly, which he found amusing. "You're mean."

"And 'Tsumu isn't?"

He turned to you when you shrugged. "Well, Atsumu is, too. But there is a difference, you know."

"And what is that?"

"He's a naturally mean person." You explained as if it made perfect sense. "He's just mean, he doesn't try to be meaner or nicer. You, on the other hand," you looked at him. "I don't think you're naturally mean, not as much as him, at least. I think you're purposefully being mean, and thats why I don't like you."

You met his eyes when Osamu turned his eyes from the road to you when the car stopped at the red light, grey eyes glistening with reds and yellows from the road. Your eyes followed the small smile that appeared on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from thinking how soft they looked. How much more handsome he looked with a smile, even with one as cruel as he had now.

"I just don't like you." He told you with as much spite as possible, not sure why he was deliberately trying to hurt you. His brows furrowed when you laughed at his answer, instead.

"You certainly aren't the first." 

"What does that mean?" He asked without missing a beat, the tension now almost solidifying in the air. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes watching your smiling lips as he waited for your next words, your chest heaving in sync with his, and you were so close, so close that if he leaned even just a little-

"You only met me today, Osamu-kun." He felt goosebumps climbing his back as he heard his name from your lips for the first time. "You know me for what, a few hours at most, and here you are telling me you just don't like me." The cynical tone of your voice made him send you a glare, his hands working over the gear when the red illuminating the car turned green.

"People like you do this a lot, you know. Judge people by one or two mistakes they do, not even anything major, but things you don't like, and deem them unworthy of your time. And how much I hate it when they boast about it, too. What, do you think you're so perfect? Don't you ever make any mistake?"

"People like me?" Osamu repeated, uncharasterically silent after all those words you had spat. "Yeah, shallow people." You answered, but you weren't looking at him anymore as you tapped the window instead. "We're here." 

You were silent as he stopped the car, pulling to the side, and watched you open the door. "You know," he finally spoke, rolling down his window before you were too far. "You say I judge people so quickly, but you did a full-blown analysis just now, and you say I'm the one to judge quick?"

"Tell me, Osamu." You bent forward a little, leveling your face with his. "If you can promise me that you didn't think, ah, I know this type of girl, even once tonight, I'll take it all back and apologize to you."

You smiled when he stood quiet. 

"Goodnight, Osamu. Thank you for the ride." You told him before walking back to your house.

~

"Ya know, with the amount of time you spend here, you may as well move in." Osamu told you gruffly, eyeing you from his side of the couch. Your eyes followed him as he took a bite out of his food, adam's apple bobbing up and down.  

"I'll move in as soon as you leave." You answered with a fake smile, turning your eyes away from his as soon as you realized you were staring, hoping he hadn't noticed, but he had. 

"Yer sure ya want me to leave?" He quirked a brow at you, making you grimace. "Never been more sure." 

It had been about a month since you met Osamu, and it was like this ever since. Osamu never missed the chance to take a jab at you, or he couldn't sleep. You never backed down from it either, the fights going back and forth until either Atsumu got bored and pulled you away or one of their friends called you out.

You didn't enjoy it like they thought you did. In fact, it was getting tiring and annoying, but you couldn't stop yourself from taking a jab at Osamu whenever he shot you a remark.

He looked at you when you sighed, brows quirking up in a silent question. "When's Atsumu gonna be here?"

Atsumu had told you to come to his place that day, telling you he would be there in a few minutes after you and he had something to do, but as always, he was late at least an hour, and you were now stuck with his brother. 

"I'll just go home and meet you up later." You had told the blonde, but he had insisted you stay. 

"Have you ever seen 'Tsumu come somewhere not at least two hours late? I bet he won't be here for at least an hour more." Osamu chuckled. "I'm hungry." He added right after, eyes finding yours.

"And? You need me to cook?" You snickered, not expecting him to stay silent, looking at you for a few more seconds and rolling his eyes as he turned around and went to the kitchen. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the antic. Surely Osamu wasn't- he wasn't asking you if you wanted something, was he?

"At least open a movie or something as we wait." Osamu muttered from the kitchen. 

"Do you have something on mind?" You asked, feeling weird at how soft he suddenly was acting. "No, pick one."

"Okay," you muttered to yourself, emphasizing the 'o'. You thought of opening a volleyball match, Atsumu always liked it when you did, and maybe he would- no, why were you even thinking of what he would like? He told you to open whatever, hadn't he?

Still, despite reasoning with yourself, you were jittery as you opened a random comedy show from Netflix. Trying to focus your thoughts on the show playing, you did your best not to think about the silver-haired boy inside, failing miserably by how your mind wandered to him and the odd way he was acting today.

"Say, ya never gave me an answer as to why yer friends with 'Tsumu." He entered the room, carrying a tray with two plates and forks inside. The crooked smile on his lips was making your heart beat twice as fast, even though you didn't want to admit it, and the way he focused on holding the tray on balance, the slight crease between his furrowed brows. Osamu Miya was too handsome for his own good.

"Thanks," you muttered half-heartedly as you took the plate from him, not even aware it was an olive branch he was sticking out. Osamu's face fell when you didn't spare him or his food another look. "You never gave me an answer of why you don't like me, so I guess we're even." You laughed, smile wavering when he didn't laugh along.

He sighed, eyes glancing at you and then back at his hands. It made you antsy, making you feel like something was wrong.

"You chose this to watch?" He turned back to the not answering you. He shifted in his place when you hummed, "I can change it i fyou want." The way he hadn't made fun of your choice of the movie yet, was too uncharacteristic of him.

"No, its okay." He answered instead, ending the conversation -if you could even call this one. You ate in silence, tv playing in the background, though neither of you cared of it, your gaze meeting now and then until you couldn't take it.

"What is wrong with you?" You couldn't help but blurt out, turning the TV off and facing him. You watched him as he quirked his brow up, looking at you questioningly even though he knew what you meant.

"What is wrong with me?" He repeated.

"Why are you being nice?"

He turned back to face the tv after a beat of silence, looking somewhat... shy? What the-

"Wh-what was that?" You asked when he mumbled something, the answer so silent that it was inaudible. "I said," Osamu repeated, eyes still focused on his plate. "You told me you didn't like me because I- uh, I was rude."

His voice was still uncharacteristically quiet, but this time you heard him loud and clear. That didn't mean you understood it, though.

"What do you mean?" He heard you ask, your voice laced with something resembling suspicion, you scoffed when he stood quiet, standing up to your legs and picking your plate off from the table. "If you're trying to tell me you want me to like you, I'm not buying it."

"You're not buying it?" He repeated, mirroring your movements and standing up, making you realize how much taller he was than you. The way he was looking at you- what was it, hurt? No, it couldn't be. Anger would be more like it. 

"Is there no way of winning with you?" He asked, following you to the kitchen and placing his plate a little too roughly on the counter. "You say you don't like me because I'm rude. I try to be nice and you fucking ask me what's wrong with me? What do you want me to do, disappear?"

Now, there was no denying that Osamu was, indeed, hurt, as his face soured when you stood quiet, staring at him blankly at his question. "So you hate me this much." He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his hair. 

"I don't know why you expected me to like someone who has been nothing but rude to me since the moment we met." You shrugged, but a part of you wanted to tell him it was a lie, and despite everything that you- well, you liked him. 

The glare he sent your way was enough to make you choke on the breath you took, taking a step forward to you, close enough for you to feel dizzy with his scent.

"Well, that concludes it, I guess. This was stupid, anyway." Osamu muttered, but he was so close- so close that you could almost feel the heat radiating from him, your eyes fixated on his lips, and if you just leaned forward- a few millimeters was all there was.

"What was- what was stupid?" You whispered, noticing his gaze was also wandering on your lips. Your heart suddenly started thundering in your chest, and you couldn't even ask yourself what's happening? What are you doing?

"This," Osamu breathed against your lips, his gaze so intense over you that it sent chills down your spine. He finally leaned forward, doing what you wanted but couldn't do, the word "apologizing," being the last thing you hear before you felt his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, nothing similar to how you thought Osamu would kiss -not that you had thought on it, or so you told yourself-, this kiss was deeper, irrational, amazing. 

"Do you always apologize to people by kissing them?" You asked when he pulled back, smirking at the way your chest heave, feeling a tinge of pride at how breathless he had left you.

"Hm?" He hummed, not wiping that damn smirk off of his face, it even grew wider when he noticed you pressing your fingers on your lips, still in shock, "I don't apologize to people." 

It was true. 

No one had ever seen Osamu Miya change his opinion about something, about someone. He would never admit he was wrong yet apologize.

But here he was, standing before you -just as breathless as you were- apologizing. 

"Maybe you should apologize more." You told him with a sly smile, to which he happily complied.

~

"I wanted to make peace." He told you, sitting on the couch right beside you, refusing to look at you, though. "I've been trying to act nice for a while now, but you seem to- you don't like that."

"A while?" You repeat. "You were never nice to me!"

"I was trying." His brows furrowed at your protest. "But you always had something snarky to say, and I couldn't just stay silent, could I now?"

"But- what? You were always the one who started them!" 

"Was I?" He asked, giving you the time to think, watching your face in disbelief fall into a look of 'fuck, he's right.'

It was you who started the fights, despite thinking it was him all this time. Upon recognizing that, you started to see the times he actually was nice to you, which you had always discarded or turned a blind eye.

Biting your lip guiltily, your turned to him. "I might... owe you an apology." You muttered, very aware of how his eyes glinted, gaze falling back on your lips. "Well," he told you, smiling. "I can't disagree."

[shinsurou]

𝙝𝙦 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 + 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙞 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢

contains dark content underneath the cut!

featuring: suna rintarou; kita shinsuke; konoha akinori; oikawa tooru; kuroo tetsurou; matsukawa issei; hanamaki takahiro

inculdes: vomit kink; sadism; plushophilia; incest; (pseudo)snuff; knifeplay; gunplay; darcyphilia

a/n: hehe minnie here with some actual headcanons????? also friendly reminders; these are just my headcanons and in no way represent the intentions of who the characters actually are!

Kita Shinsuke + sadism and darcyphilia

Kita just radiates so much sadistic energy for some reason. Like he will fuck into you, as rough as he can, preferably without prep. Hell, he probably doesn’t even check if you’re wet enough or if he used enough lube if he decided to use some – especially when he fucks your ass. The way you scream out whenever he fucks your dry asshole mixed with your moans and begs for him to continue just gets him riled up.

He will spank you, hit you, pull on your hair too harsh, chokes you to hard on top of that he will do everything in his power to make you cry. Kita thinks you’re the most precious when tears stream down your cheeks while quietly begging him for more. He will leave marks and bruises all over you and if you’re not in pleasurable pain then what's the point?

Obviously, he would make sure you’re fine with everything he is doing to you and he will always look out if you say your safe word.

Konoha Akinori + plushophilia

Oh boy, oh boy. Akinori thinks you’re the softest, most adorable and precious person on this whole planet. He loves to see you in cute lingerie – preferably in soft pinks or pastels in general. Now to melt his whole heart; add a little plush you cling to whenever he pounds into you. You hold it so tight, hide your face in it and Akinori adores it every time. He also knows that you use said plush to take care of yourself, you grind down on it when ever you can’t have Akinori to take care of you, when he can’t touch you but you’re so needy. You just use your little stuffed companion who gladly takes care of you. Sometimes, just when you’re being a naughty little bunny and don’t listen maybe then he will fun with your stuffie as well.

Suna Rintarou + vomit

Suna just seems like someone to me who loves to make you vomit on purpose?? Maybe it’s the sadism in him but god seeing the sight of you wrenching your guts out like the little vomit whore you are turns him on so much.

Like it would start off with him just trying to make you feel better every time he would push his long fingers down your throat when you felt slightly nauseous, until it escalated one night. He shoved his cock down your throat and forcefully would try to hit your gag reflex until he succeeded, and you spilled your guts all over him. You were all embarrassed, tears streamed down your cheeks but Suna fisted your hair and kept fucking your face, I mean poor boy didn’t cum yet, and he won’t stop until he did.

Oikawa Tooru +  incest

Life is troublesome for a boy who is in love with his little sibling. He saw you grow up and at one-point brotherly love turned intro romantic love and sexual attraction. Whenever he looked at you, you weren’t his cute little sibling any more but rather a person he desires. He wants to kiss you, lewdly and filthy until drool spills from your mouths and strings of spit keep you connected even though you pull part from each other. He wants to fondle you, handle you with care before he fucks into you. Sometimes rougher than other times, the grip on your hips is harsh enough to leave marks on your soft skin. He wants you to moan out his name and your little cries when ever you need your big brother to take care of you. He loves you more than he should, but he isn’t afraid to let you know and sometimes the thrill of other people almost catching you two – especially your parents – gets him so excited that he just wants to make you scream.

Kuroo Tetsurou + (pseudo) snuff

This man right here has dark fantasies, and they turn him on more than it should. If you’re with him maybe you should worry about your safety from time to time.

He loves to play with the thought of choking you a little too hard, oh how many times you had already passed out. Somehow Kuroo can only cum when he thinks about the way the little spark of life in your eyes goes out. The way your body numbs up and how he can use you like a puppet after. The only thing he will be missing is the sound of your moans, your little screams, and pathetic whimpers once he hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

Matsukawa Issei + knifeplay and marking

It’s not so much the actual knife play that makes him go feral but rather the marks he’ll be leaving. Honestly, he doesn’t like cutting you all that much, it is satisfactory for him, the way blood slowly starts to ooz out of the cut, and sometimes he shoves his fingers into it the cut, he always tells you that you need tighter holes for him to fuck so why not simply make some?

But he can’t but admire the wounds he leaves. Especially the ones that will most likely leave scars. He takes care of them, makes sure they don’t get infected, kisses them whenever they hurt or itch. Its his way of keeping you his, of making sure that you can’t run away from him. Even if you manage to get away you will always be reminded of Issei.

Hanamaki Takahiro + gunplay

Hiro likes you and Hiro likes guns so why not combine those two things? It started mild, he showed you some of his guns and let you hold them. The sight was more than beautiful to him, and then he got an idea, why not bring a gun to bed? You don't know why you were so easy to convince but all Hiro had to do was ask, and you let him shove the barrel down your throat. He pushed the gun into your mouth as far as possible until you're gagging on it. His finger would stay on the trigger and to be honest you weren't even sure if the safety was on. The spark of fear in your eyes send beautiful shivers down Hiro's spine. He pulled the barrel out of your mouth again admiring all the drool and spit that collected on the heavy metal. "Looks like it's wet enough..." he mumbled before spreading your legs and shoving the gun deep into your tight hole. The metal felt foreign and hurt a little, you weren't prepped nor lubed up enough for the rough material to thrust in and out of you like this. But do you think your little cries and begs for Hiro to stop work? Of course not, he has too much fun being the asshole he is.

shinsurou © 2020 | all content and it's right belong to me, please don't repost or modify

[ac3id]

Thankyou so much for sending in a request🌸💕you cuties get what you ask for :)

tw: noncon/ dubcon, captivity, a lil bit of violence?? , bakugou and shoto are aged up obv

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DABI

🌸 he’s obviously a sadist like- look at him you just know.

🌸he’s has probably been with women who like it rough in the past so he is not like hesitant to show that wild side to his partner. i think he puts everything on the table- slapping, kicking, spanking and even spitting in his s/o’s mouth. he also enjoys degrading his s/o. humiliating them, making them cry. yup all of it. this guy is hardcore.

🌸but, all those carnal feelings kind of get buried when he meets you. you’re a pretty little thing. you must be protected. always so cheerful, always rwady to help others, and oh so innocent. dabi practically cringes whenever he sees someone else talking to you.

🌸don’t you know that they don’t really care about you? they just want your attention so they can corrupt your angelic soul? Why are you still talking to them?

🌸he gets pissed off from all the useless people trying to come between the two of you so, he locks you up. he’s the only on you can talk to now, he’s the only you will see from the start of the day till the end. until the kids come in, obviously.  

🌸he’s finally happy. he has you for himself now. he protect you, love you. he can be your friend, your lover. he feels complete.

🌸you on the other hand.....

🌸you cry, scream at him. call him a monster, ask him to kill himself and never show you his again. dabi never loses his cool. he looks at you with silent rage in his beautiful cerulean blue eyes and the next thing you know he’s dragging you into his room, cuffing your hands to the bed posts and leaving you there the entire day. nothing to eat or drink, you have to sit in complete silence while you starve. 

🌸dabi promises himself he would never hurt you, physically that is. it’s the entire reason why he had brought you back home with him, to protect you, silly.

🌸it starts of as a mistake, he never meant to hurt you. you had just pissed him to an extent he lost all his cool.when he realizes what he’s done, he’s ready to cut off his arms for you. guilt takes over his being. he feels like he was a child again, and his favorite toy had broken, he couldn’t live without that toy.

🌸that would have been the case but, when he realizes you like it. oh boy, rip darling. you’re moaning, he’s confused for a second but after he realizes that it turns you on he’s going to ask you to beg which you gleefully do. you beg him to hurt you, tie you up, use you however he pleases. 

🌸dabi is on cloud nine, he’s so proud of you. 

🌸you’re never going to hear an end to it. he likes teasing you about it, something as innocent and petite like you gets off to being used ? well, dabi is going to make sure all your needs are satisfied. he’s your husband after all. 

🌸expect him to start using toys on you. punishments become so much more fun for him after he learns about your little secret. now instead of tying you up and leaving you alone for days, he can beat your ass black and blue and deny you release only you for you to cuddle with him while he dotes on you.

🌸he wonders how he got so lucky.

🌸You were doing the dishes, Dabi had forced you to them. The reason was, "while I am out working for us. you should take care of this place, hmm?" or simply put, he wanted you to play the housewife for his perfect family fantasy.  

Perfect family, you scoffed internally. At this point, you knew better than to disobey him. Disobeying him just resulted in you being locked in a dark room for days on end while he went about his day doing god knows what.  You feel him stalk behind you as he hugs you from the back. His body pressed to your back allows you to feel his inhumane warmth. A normal person should never be this hot. 

He tilts his head so it levels with your neck, the water from the taps still running as you stay frozen while he pampers your neck with kisses. His hands are tightly wrapped around your waist making it impossible for you to escape his sinful intentions. 

You sigh as he trails kisses to your jaw. Quietly accepting defeat. Next, you feel his hands creeping south. You feel his hand cup your womanhood his middle finger pressing onto your covered hole. 

“You know, y/n, I think we’ve been getting along. You don’t even cry when I kiss you anymore.”

 You turn off the tap as Dabi continues the assault. He slips his hands under your pants and you let out a whimper. “Dabi, no please, I’m not ready” 

Dabi stops his actions. He completely detaches himself from you and takes a step back. You turn around and face him, he is looking down on the floor his hair scanning his eyes. The aura of the room quickly turns from mundane to something worse and you stay quiet. You already know you've pissed him off. You want to mutter out apologies but you know better, speaking now would mean punishment worse than what he has already planned in his head. 

“y/n,” his hand comes in contact with your neck. He squeezes around it, you frown as you find it harder to breathe. Your hands wrapping around dabi’s trying to get him free you but he doesn’t budge. 

He looks at you, his eyes filled with rage. Glaring down at you, he scoffs, “I was being nice with you! but you don’t understand do you?” his free hand slips under your shirt grabbing your chest. He gropes your tits, pinching and pulling your nipples until they harden. Despite the twisted scenario you feel yourself getting wet, you could not believe it but you were enjoying this, you felt disgusted. 

It was getting harder to breathe as dabi’s grip never loosened. His hands now traveled towards your cunt which grew wetter every second.

 He slipped his hands under your pants and a sicking grin took over his features, his staples looked like they could have popped right out. The animalistic glare only drove you further towards insanity.

“So, my sweet, little, baby likes getting choked? Who could have thought?” he remarked sarcastically, “you got something to say, baby?” his voice was sickeningly sweet. If you could have, you would have punched his face whipping that smirk but you couldn’t and Dabi did not fail to notice how riled up he had gotten. If you wanted more you had to beg.

Your dignity had left you the moment he had chained you to his bed and making you into his obedient little housewife. There wasn’t much to lose so, you begged.

“Phle-” you started and Dabi’s hand left your neck. You huffed in air and he pulled your hair arching your neck to face him. Your neck hurt and so did your head but the pain regretfully pleasurable. 

“Please, Dabi,” you say in a whisper 

“Please what?” he growls. You swallow your last shreds of pride.

“Please hurt me.” 

You know you’re fucked when he looks down at you like he’s a hunter who finally caught his prey. His tongue peeking from his mouth as he licks his lips. “Whatever you say, princess.” 

The entire night goes by as he continuously abuses your hole, spanking, slapping, and even spitting on you. Dabi makes sure you feel sub-human the entire time. Calling you names, making fun of your insecurities and he doesn’t feel bad making you cry. He couldn’t, the way your cunt squeezed his cock deeper inside he had forgotten about all his promises. 

And you couldn’t deny it either. You kept begging him to use you even though you felt sick, the pleasure was far greater.  

SHINDO YO

🌸 like dabi, i also imagine him being a sadist like its just his vibes. he loves breaking down his s/o into a whiny little mess only for him to put them back up together. 

🌸when meets you, that desire only grows stronger. whenever he’s out with you on dates (what he likes to call them) he can’t help but imagine your how your lips would feel like on his cock while you suck on your ice cream bar. you probably don’t even know what you’re doing. 

🌸the more time he spends with you, the more it grows on him. the carnal desire to pin you down and defile your innocent, helpless self. 

🌸he wants you all to himself, he asks you if you trust him and, come on, you obviously do, he’s the pro-hero grand after all! how could you not? that’s how he lures you in. he invites you into his home- it’s you and him, you don’t think much of it even though your friends warn you. you trust Shindo, he’s a great friend!

🌸your mistake. next thing you know is that: you’re in his basement all tied up. 

🌸unlike dabi, shindo discovers about your masochistic side much earlier. he does have any personal issues with hurting you. if you’re being a brat he’ll not hesitate discipline you and bring you to your place.  

🌸the worst part is when he has you bent over his legs, your ass sticking out in the air and his heavy hand comes down to smack it with brutal force: you like it.

🌸you enjoying this catches shindo off guard. he didn’t expect that you enjoyed this of course, he never lets it go. your punishments are always something sexual, he riles you but doesn’t let you cum. you have to beg him to let you cum and he degrades you while you chase your high.

🌸he definitely uses his quirk on you, overstimulating you until you pass out. he probably does not like using toys, his hands could do better but he doesn’t shoving dildos up your holes as punishment so, expect him to buy expensive dildos just for you.

🌸as rewards, shindo asks you what you want. you better tell him otherwise he’ll edge you hours and then leave you hanging.  

Shindo has you bent over his lap, your ass facing him and your hands tied in front of you. Your panties pulled down to your ankles. He rubs your ass as you sniffle, "This is your punishment, Y/N, take it like a good girl, okay?" you cry louder. This was humiliating, you didn't want this. Tears stream down your eyes as you beg him. "Shindo, please, let me go. I- I won't tell anyone."

Shindo clicks his tongue, "There you go. You're started with that bullshit again, huh? Don't you understand? This is where you're safe. Safe from the world here with me."

"No, I am not!"  you yell as you squirm around hips lap. "Y/N," Shindo's voice darkens and you quiet down, "Good. Now don't move around too much and we'll be done quickly."

Shindo lifts his hand high and brings it down to your bottom. Your ass jiggles as Shindo's hand comes in contact with it. A smearing hot pain flows trough your backside and you let out an involuntary moan, you feel yourself getting aroused by this situation as your pussy starts tingling. Shindo freezes, he looks down you and you quiver.

"What's this?" He asks as he rubs your ass, "Did I hear a moan? Of pleasure?" he taunts as he sets down another and you moan harder. "You like this baby?" another slap, embarrassing sounds won't stop leaving your mouth as he continues spanking your ass.

He stops after your skin turns a dark shade of red all the while your pussy drools. Shindo brings his hand down to your pussy and spreads your lips, his finger runs from your clit and plunges into the hole.

"A little pain slut. Didn't expect you out of everyone to be into this."

he pushes his finger inside, knuckles deep, and you out. He keeps thrusting his finger inside you adding a second, his thumb lands on your clit and you feel vibrations spread throughout you- he's using his quirk. You cry out feeling the fire in your belly build-up- you were so close. Moans fall from your mouth and Shindo eagerly drinks them up, "I- I am so close!" you cry out, and just when you thought you'd find your release, Shindo stops. You sigh as you feel yourself clench around nothing, you turn your head back and catch Shindo sucking on his two fingers- which were inside you seconds ago. You blush at the perverted scene. Shindo looks down at you, "What was that dear, Y/N? You did not tell me that you liked it rough?" he asks smirking but you only turn your face away from him. You feel another smack on your back and you squeal. He squeezes your ass, kneading the flesh.

"Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." ��

SHOTO TODOROKI 

🌸He finds it really cute that his beloved,sweet Y/N was longing to be dominated and to be abused,he wasn't the one to deny what the love of his life wanted

🌸knows how to inflict the right amount of pain,admires the way your tears glides a and dampens your cheeks

🌸loves it when you call out is name absoluTELY LOVES LOVES LOVES it when you moan out his name when he burns his name into your skin

🌸Unlike dabi,shoto is a slightly softer yandere,this boi is W H I P P E D,his feelings are so intense for you,he would go through any lengths to be the perfect husband for you

🌸His feelings growing more out of hand when you both started dating,

🌸 he'd learn about your masochistic tendencies,when he's break into visit your house one night after your date. theres nothing wrong with checking up on your beloved

🌸he expected you to be dozing off on your bed.what he didn't expect was you to whine out his name

He bit back a moan at the sight of your naked back facing him"ah fuck,shouto~"your head throwing back a string of dirt words spilling out of your mouth at the erotic scene displaying on the screen of the laptop screen, a woman tied up,being sexually tortured

Your fingers knuckle deep inside you,your breath becoming irregular fantasizing about him.unbeknownst to the monochrome eyes fixated on your fingers moving in and out of you

You almost don't hear your door creaking open in the midst of your haze,and within seconds you were abruptly interrupted from your session as you find yourself pinned under shoto todoroki

You don't even get the chance to react before he pulls you into a hot kiss filled with animalistic desire and lust,you moan as he bites your bottom lip,your tongue darting out over his. He grabs your ankles and opens your legs for him

He grips your wrist and holds them above your head swiftly restraining your hands swiftly together with his belt,his tongue slides into your mouth again as he brings his hand around your neck and pushes you down so that your flat against your bed.his clothed dick grinding against you

He brings his hand onto your neck,squeezing cutting air as his nails digging into the soft flesh

Your eyes darkening with lust as you gaze at him above you

Your nipples hardening at the sudden drop in the temperature of the room

"is this what you want?"grunting in your ear pinching the hardened bud between his fingers,your mouth dropping open as you nod,writhing uncontrollably underneath him

"use your words,beloved"

You swallow dryly,a chocked sob escaping your mouth,finding it hard to speak "sh- shouto please,please fuck me,I want you so badd"

Using his strength to hold your hips down, You tremble as he lines himself up your entrance,he pushes himself in,knocking the air out of your lungs as he fills you up to the hilt walls clenching around his girth

"god,Y/N, you're so fucking tight"

Ruthlessly moving in and out of you making your eyes roll to the back of your head, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts

your wrap legs around his hips, bringing him closer to you

His hand reaches between your thighs and rubbing his fingers over your clit at a rapid pace making you clench tighter around him

He thrusts faster and harder grabbing your throat once again, you mewled  feeling yourself go closer

You came with your toes curled cum dripping onto the sheets beneath you

BAKUGOU KATSUKI 

🌸bakugou is a violent man. yelling at people to “die”, casting explosion anytime he feels like it might come as an surprise but he doesn’t like hurting his s/.o. He does not want to hurt his s/o- he wants to protect them.

🌸he finds you very innocent, treats you like a porcelain doll, always so careful. he is horrible with showing affections- thinking he might hurt you by mistake.

🌸but, when he finds out about his darling being a masochist, he couldn’t stop but get curious. he doesn’t the appeal, he’s always a little hesitant about hurting his darling but he kinda thinks its hot. he’s into it. if sweet little y/n wants it- he’s going to give it to her.

Panic settles down on you as katsuki forces himself between your legs. You shut your eyes, tears falling to your cheeks as pushes himself into you,  "Oi shitty woman, what the fuck is wrong with you!?" your breath hitches at his words. "Why the fuck are you crying? It shouldn't hurt too much. We've done this before!"  

"Katsuki, I don't want to do this!" you cry out and Bakugou growls, "What do you mean?" His large hands come down to your thigh landing a hot smack as he had activated his quirk. Feeling the burning hot pain melting into your body you moan and tighten around him. He stops thrusting into you, his cock still buried till the hilt he looks down at your tear-stained face, his eyes wide in astonishment. He brings down his hand, activating his quirk letting it fall against your in swift fall. You squeak again. He does it again and again and you clench around him every time.

"Are you seriously fucking turned on right now?!" he asks chuckling darkly. His surprised expression subsiding into a cocky grin. His large hands start groping your breasts, taking them in his mouth and biting on it, bruising the skin and drawing blood

"You like it when I hurt you don't you? Filthy woman," he growls at you. You nod desperately, finally giving in.

"Say it." You open your eyes to meet his furious red ones, "Yes, I like being hurt." you whimper and Bakugou laughs wickedly. Watching your pupils dilate and darken with lust as he traces your cheekbones softly before bringing it down harshly, slapping you across your face. You feel the tinge of another slap, your face growing hotter with the increasing severity of each slap.

The sound resonating across the room, he slaps your face a few more times, leaving imprints of his palm heated by his quirk. Hooking a finger under your chin and running his hand over your mouth, pulling at the bottom lip, his brain almost short circuits at the sound of your moans, shamelessly getting off the pain. Forcing his fingers between your lips, prying your jaw open, spitting inside your mouth

His dick twitched at the sight of you drinking it up.

"Fuck, such a kinky little bitch"

He pulls out of you, his thick cock standing tall and proud, the shaft glistening and glowing with precum and your slick glistening under the dim lighting of the room, he takes his cock in his hand and guides it to your mouth. 

"What are you waiting for? Suck me off!" he growls. A chocked moan leaves his lips at the feeling of your tongue on the angry red head, tongue tracing the prominent veins on the underside of his shaft.

Grabbing the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair and shoving his dick further down your throat. Causing you to gag and tense around him, feeling every texture against your tongue and the roof of your mouth and the back of your throat.  Loss of air making tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision. His rips rocking faster, his balls slapping against your chin. His eyes devouring the sight of your mouth filled with his dick, mixture of drool and tears dribbling down your lips. Teeth gritting as he reaches his climax, his cum shooting in thick, hot ropes on your face. Bakugou smears the cum all over your face and breasts, smirking while he looks down, "Fuck, look at you-" he beginnings. You take in deep breaths, exhaling from your mouth you whisper "Katsuki, please.." the burning in your south becomes unbearable but he doesn't do a thing. Annoyed, you snake your hands down towards your drooling cunt but Bakugou slaps your hand away.

"You don't get to cum yet." He barks. His hands touch your cheek and you flinch thinking he'll slap you again but he caresses it gently.

"You're in for a long night, baby." 

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings: heavy drinking, someones arm gets broken, also some very vague mentions of a shootout, reader is in denial about being in denial (so the usual pretty much)

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You thought it would just be one coffee. One simple mistake as a result of you being extra tired, or something like that. You’d give it to him, hear his stupid little remark meant to rile you up, and then it’d be done - it would never happen again. 

Here’s the thing, though: you kept making more. After that day, every morning when you woke up, you’d grab two coffee mugs and make one for the both of you - yours with extra cream, his straight black. You knew he liked to add a shot of whiskey to his, even though you pretended not to notice when he not-so-discreetly pulled his flask out. Whatever he needed to get through the day, you shrugged, watching him out of the corner of your eye. You certainly weren’t about to judge him for his drinking habits in light of your own less than stellar track record. 

Neither of you dared to mention it so far. You hoped to high heaven that he wouldn’t: his little tease on that first day was barely enough to get under your skin though it had stuck to the back of your mind every morning you woke up. You’re not getting soft on him, are you?

Shaking your head furiously, you let out a low frustrated sigh as you moved to reach out for the bottle of wine next to you once more, flicking off the top and pouring almost a good half of the bottle’s contents into your glass. It was a Wednesday night but you didn’t much care - if the hangover was that bad the next morning, and it never usually was with a shiraz, you’d get some painkillers and get on with your day. The same thought as before repeated itself in your mind again, doing nothing short of vexing you further. Partially because you were worried it was true. Maybe you were getting soft on him. Maybe you weren’t as strong and stubborn as you thought if Jack Daniels had managed to worm his way back into your heart.

No. That couldn’t be it. You tossed your head back and indulged yourself in a rather large gulp of wine, letting the liquid rush down your throat in a desperate attempt to dilute the pitiful nonsense that had filled your head. What a ridiculous thought. You weren’t falling for Jack Daniels charm once more. No, you simply wouldn’t do that. You knew better than that. You knew that underneath that smooth facade was a flitting and emotionally unavailable man, the man who had broken your heart and made you suffer for what felt like evermore. You may have felt pity on him for his fall from grace, but anyone else would if they saw the state of him. Discarding the glass off to the side, you wanted to laugh at the simple absurdity of such an idea. Are you always this stupid with a wine-addled brain? 

Speaking of the devil, you heard his footsteps from up the stairs, taking you by surprise as you were certain that he was asleep by now. You crocked your head to the side, your eyes travelling up the stairwell to the small part of the landing that was in your immediate vision - you couldn’t catch a single sight of him. Shrugging to yourself, you returned to your almost empty glass of wine, feeling that familiar haze descend over your brain with every sip you took. This was fine. You could let yourself be swallowed by the alcohol, maybe even enjoy the fact that your nerves were loosened for just this once. If it could take all that shit away, then you’d gladly let it. And as for Jack? You’d continue on as you were: barely acknowledging his existence, and regarding him as nothing more than a ghost from your past. That’s what you wanted, right?

You’re lying to yourself and you know it.

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you stared out into the space in front of you, your mind lost a million miles away while you were in complete and utter astonishment over those few words that had crossed your mind. Things were quiet, still, even peaceful in a way, only for a second anyhow. That was before the rush came, that incensed anger that flashed across your mind for barely a moment, settling down into something resembling vague annoyance, directed at none other than yourself. Where the hell did that come from? For god's sake, get a grip on yourself. Standing up abruptly, you didn’t even stumble as you advanced back over to the liquor cabinet, dropping to your knees and scanning the tops of the glistening glass bottles under the dim lamp light. Your eyes landed on the bourbon you had stashed at the back and you reached out for it, carefully lifting it above all the others despite your intoxicated state. Resting the bottle against the palm of your hand, you let your fingers trace the grooves in the molded glass, a small bit of hesitation working its way into your mind, hesitation that was swiftly kicked aside in favour of that pesky little buzz that danced around the back of your head, that stupid little crumb of self doubt that refused to fucking leave. 

Guess I’m gonna need a bottle of something stronger to kick this shit. 

___

He didn’t know why he kept watching you. You weren’t doing anything particularly notable - you’d decided to take one of the horses out for a ride, practicing vaulting and the like. He remembered you’d once told him that as a young kid that you’d entered a number of equestrian competitions, and even won a few - he’d seen the trophies gathering dust on the mantle and the cute photos of you posing with your chosen horse, Buttercup, as a child. You explained years ago that you’d stopped participating in competitions but still liked to take the horses out for a spin every once in a while as a way to relax and clear your head. As he watched you now, he could already see the stressors of the day melting away from your visage, leaving only a steely focused expression in its wake as you cleared another jump. 

It was the first time in weeks he’d seen you truly relaxed at all, or showing any sort of emotion other than your usual show of cheerfulness you splashed on for the customers, woven with a current of underlying stress and irritation. Seeing you like this couldn’t help but remind him of better times: you’d taken him out on the horses more than a couple of times when the two of you were together. Jack had always labelled himself as something of an animal lover, ever since he was a kid. He didn’t, and hadn’t, had any pets for a good ten years now though at some point long ago he wanted something similar to what you had - a nice ranch situated out in his home state of Kentucky with a bunch of animals and his family. That dream had seemed so close to him once that he could have sworn it would be a reality yet fate wasn’t so kind to him in that regard. The memory of it all alone hadn’t ceased to become any less painful to him: seeing the broadcast on the news of a shootout down at a local convenience store only to get the call moments later confirming what he’d already feared to have happened most. 

Not a day passed where he didn’t wish he could go back to a time before that day, where even the simple idea of having a family didn’t seem so foreign and unattainable. He felt himself grip onto the wooden bar of the veranda just a tad bit tighter the longer his thoughts fixated on it, though the sound of a piercing shriek immediately brought his attention back to you, his eyes darting around in a frenzy, determined to know what had caused you to cry out in agonising pain. Upon seeing your body lain flat on the ground he rushed forward, vaulting himself over the edge of the varanda and calling out your name. “Are you alright, sugar?” he shouted, throwing open the gate to the ring and racing over towards where you were lying. The faint sounds of you whimpering did nothing short of send him into panic mode, seeing how much it hurt you to move only adding to his worry. “I’m fine, I just...the dumb horse got spooked by something and bucked me off” you groaned, struggling to pull yourself up, leading you to let out another loud yelp when you tried to move your left arm.

Swooping in to catch you before you fell, Jack gently reached for your arm and pulled it towards him, his eyes widening the moment he caught sight of the horrific fracture done to it. “Darlin’, don’t lie to me, you’re not fine. Arms are not meant to look like this!” he stressed, studying your eyes intensely, trying to gauge if you had some sort of a concussion. They were slightly glazed over, and your gaze kept wandering from him as if you were having trouble focusing. “How’s your head feelin’, sweetheart?”. 

“Kinda dazed. Hurts like a bitch as well” you grumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder slightly. Every bone in your body felt like it was screaming at you like some sort of symphony, the pain in your arm being the worst of all. Your vision had also become slightly blurry and kept splitting double every few seconds, only contributing to your general haziness. Your thoughts were running a mile a minute, scattered around your brain and refusing to slow down. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and up into Jack’s arms, your head lolling slightly against his forearm as he carried you back up to the house. Running through your memory, you couldn’t really remember what had happened fully: you had just made another jump and were circling around the ring to gain speed for another when suddenly you were on the ground and your horse, Molly, was a few feet ahead of you. 

Jack brought you up to the varanda and laid you down on the bench, grabbing one of the old decorative throw pillows you had to rest your head on.“Stay here for a moment, I’m gonna get you some ice, then I’m gonna call an ambulance and get ya to an emergency room” he instructed before ducking back inside the house.

“Is that really necessary, Jack?” you shouted out after him, leading him to stick his head back out the door to look at you incredulously. “Sweetheart, your arm is broken and you're clearly concussed. I think the situation more than calls for it” he replied with a deadpan tone, disappearing back into your house to find you some ice. Resting your head back against the pillows, you turned to see Molly trotting around near the edge of the fenceline, acting as if she hadn’t just thrown you off her back for no apparent reason at all. 

“Yeah, just had to buck me off, didn’t ya? Thanks asshole!” you shouted out, doing your best to ignore the persistent throbbing in the side of your head and the dull ache from where your arm was rested. Thankfully, partially due to the concussion probably, it didn’t feel as bad as before, though at the same time you could have just simply become more tolerant of the pain. Not to say it didn’t still hurt like literal hell or that it was any less easy to take notice of. 

“Honeybee, I get you’re in pain but yelling at the horse isn’t doing anything” you heard Jack say to you as he made his entrance once more, holding a tea towel containing several large blocks of ice in his hand. Muttering out a small ‘thank you’, you took the towel in your hands and pressed it against the swell of your arm, letting out a small hiss the second you felt the sharp sting of the cold on your skin. “I know yelling at the horse does nothing, but it’s making me feel better” you grumbled. 

“Is it? Is it really?” Jack scoffed, subsequently choosing to ignore the sharp death glare you gave him after his flippant remark. “I’ve called an ambulance, they’ll be here to get you to a proper hospital in no time. You really had me worried there when I heard you scream”.

“Oh, so you do care about me after all” you jeered, your signature sarcastic edge seeping through your tone. You shifted slightly to try to position yourself up a little more so that you could face him properly yet as you moved a heavy sting of pain shot through you, causing you to yelp out a little and tense up in response. As if it were instinctual to him, Jack moved towards you and helped you settle back down. “Try not to move too much until the ambulance gets here” he directed. You didn’t know if it was your imagination or not, but you could have sworn his hand lingered on your forehead a second longer than it should have, his fingertips brushing against your skin and leaving a burning sensation in their wake, something that, shamefully so, made your heart skip a small beat. “Now, about me not caring - sugar, when are you gonna accept that no matter what happened between us that I still care about you as a person?” he asked. Shoving those thoughts to the back of your mind, you settled on glaring back at him with a quick witted quip to combat him, because that’s all he was to you: an annoyance, a nuisance, a royal pain in the ass. You were doing him a favour by letting him stay with you. There was nothing more to this.

“Try never, asshole” you snapped, one note harsher than you originally intended. As usual whenever you bit back at his banter, Jack shrugged and rested back into the wall he was standing against. For once, though, you felt bad at snapping at him like that - there wasn’t any need for it, he was only trying to help. Not knowing if you could fully coax the words ‘I’m sorry’ from your mouth, you settled on something less apologetic but still sort of the message across. “But...really, thank you. For, y’know, helping me out here” . 

Jack looked at you for a moment, somewhat taken aback at what you’d said before he softened a bit.“Of course, sugar. Call it returning the favour for taking care of me a couple of weeks back” he answered, giving you that sweet smile of his that hadn’t managed to unweave itself from those old memories. And for once, you allowed yourself to smile weakly in return.

[boymeetsweevil]

SS6 - MYG, FLUFF, 2900w

For @bangtancentricsblogsmain​ because i wanted her to suffer :)

At 3pm, on a Thursday, there’s a knock on Yoongi’s bedroom door. He had come through that very same door not an hour earlier to lock himself away from the world after a particularly draining day. After dropping his bag somewhere on the ground, he showered, removed his contacts, and pushed the laundry waiting to be folded over to the other half of his bed in record time.

Normally he would have joined his roommate and their mutual friend circle who were seated on the couch in the communal living room, eating snacks and watching a game. But this time he begged out with a quiet mumble about needing rest.

When Hoseok knocks, Yoongi makes a feeble sound to signal he’s still, unfortunately, awake.

“What,” Yoongi grumbles. 

He attempts to sit up on one pale elbow and then decides against it. Hoseok’s lips twitch up at how cranky Yoongi is pre-nap before sinking back down as his expression darkens into a pitying and somber mix.

“She’s here. And, uh, she’s asking for you.” Hoseok’s eyes dart back to some unseen spot in the living room.

“Tell her I’m asleep.”

“I know you’re not asleep, Yoongi!” Your voice rings from outside the bedroom and Hoseok cringes sympathetically.

“I’ll just leave,” Hoseok says when you shove your torso through the crack in the doorway.

You wait to start speaking until the bedroom door is shut and the noises from the TV outside wash away.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts?”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” is all you get.

The backpack you carry drops unceremoniously to the ground with a thud and any dregs of sleep cloying to Yoongi’s brain vanish with the sound. It’s with a valiant effort that he shoves his face deeper into his pillow. You cock your head to look at your best friend and snort at him.

Yoongi’s glasses are skewed across his face. There are thin pink lines marring the left side of his face from lying pressed to the wrinkled sheets with glasses on. The platinum blond waves of his hair, normally coiffed styled, are squashed flat against his forehead. Rarely ever does he look this rumpled and it’s hilarious.

“That’s okay, I’ll just tell you what I wrote in the texts,” you say as you make your way further into Yoongi’s small room. 

A look down at your feet shows him that you’ve shoved your feet into the pair of bunny slippers he got for guests you when he and Hoseok first moved in almost a year ago.

“Basically,” you continue. “There’s good news and there’s bad news. Pick one.” You help yourself to his desk chair and swivel it so it faces him.

“Bad news first,” Yoongi says after some deliberation. He pulls the covers up to his chin more securely.

“Smart choice,” you nod sagely. “The bad news is I’m gonna have to paint your face.”

“What the hell,” Yoongi barks.

“But the good news is that I have a new job as a face painter at the kids’ section of the farmer’s market this season!”

“How is that good news for me?”

“It means I’ll be slightly less broke and I can stop asking you to buy me breakfast before our 9am.”

Yoongi doesn’t really know whether to laugh or to cry. Firstly, there’s no way in hell he’s letting you paint his face. You’ve always been shit at drawing and letting you showcase that on his skin doesn’t do him any favors. Secondly, he’s in his twenties and he doesn’t even go to the farmer’s market. There’s no reason for him to set foot on the town commons during sunny Saturdays for local produce, much less to get his face painted next to a pen full of smelly goats and screaming kids. He’s just not seeing the connection between you getting this job and him getting his face painted. He stares at you with the hope that you’ll back off but he finds that you’re just blinking back at him with a huge, proud pretty grin.

For a moment Yoongi wants to smile back like things are normal. He wants to put on a groan and act like he’s annoyed that he’s been “forced” to order you sugary coffee drinks and muffins using his own money for longer than he can remember. He wants to gently muss your hair to see you make that cute shocked face you always make. But he can’t. 

Because if he does all that, he might slip up again like he did last weekend. 

At 10:24pm, Friday of last week, Yoongi told you he loved you while one small bottle of liquid courage was sloshing away in his stomach. After seconds of silence ticked by like the bangs of a gong, you replied. A sing-songy ‘Aww. I love you too, Yoongi’ and a light pat on the arm. Your words were basically the mirror image of his, but somehow also starkly different. Disappointment walked him home early that night and embarrassment laid him low the following week.

But it was just a week, he’d reasoned with himself, you’d hardly notice anyway...

“Yoongi? You okay?”

“No,” he hisses and shakes his head gently to dislodge memories of that pathetic weekend.

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you need to paint my face?”

“For practice! The market doesn’t open for another month but I need to get good. Jungkook said that if I do it really well the parents will leave bigger tips.”

“So Jungkook is behind all this.”

“Yeah,” you chirp. “He’s been really helpful in the last week. Usually I’d vent to you about how broke I am but since you were so busy, I ended up hanging out with Kook. He’s honestly really resourceful and he got me the job really fast.”

The hairs on the back of Yoongi’s neck bristle at the mention of the younger “peer”. Jungkook was a constant presence at group hangouts for a long while but Yoongi could only ever think of him as a friend of a friend. There was something smarmy about the guy’s smile that he didn’t like. And the way he was always draping himself over you, teasing you, buying you food that was all his job. He can’t put his finger on what it is exactly, but something about Jungkook always put Yoongi in a shit mood.

Yoongi curses under his breath. “Why couldn’t he get you a job at the cotton candy station or managing the photo booth or something?”

“What’s up with you lately? Do you really hate the idea of helping me that much?”

“It’s just annoying,” Yoongi huffs childishly from under the blanket.

“Fine, I’ll just ask Jungkook, then.”

“No! Wait!” Your eyes flash with hope. “I’ll do it. Just—don’t bother him. Since he already gave you the job, I mean.”

“Oh, thank god. I felt really bad about asking him for even more help.”

You turn around and pull out a face painting kit from thin air and begin scooting the desk chair towards the bed. When you’re close enough, you frown.

“What?” Yoongi sniffs at his sheets for good measure. All clean.

“Nothing. It’s just...” You look down at the ground and then the chair and then at Yoongi before looking at the chair again. “I usually practice on shorter surfaces so I can get used to working with the kids.”

“Oh, just pull the little lever underneath the chair. Raising and lowering the chair is Hoseok’s favorite thing to do when he comes in here, I swear.”

You reach under the seat like Yoongi instructed, find the little lever, and tug. There’s a low hissing sound before the seat suddenly drops 5 inches. You let out a yelp while Yoongi tries to stifle a laugh at your terrified expression.

“I guess—I guess Hoseok pulled the lever too much,” Yoongi’s voice creaks with laughter. Even when you flick him in the forehead he keeps laughing.

“Yoongi, this isn’t funny. I need to practice.”

“Just so you know there’s no way I’m getting on the floor. I’ve changed my clothes and I’m actually in the bed.”

He knows he’s being a bit of a dick at the moment, but he’s only trying to rile you up. He’s not expecting you to start to get up on the bed after flipping him off. The laundry he placed on his bed that morning to force himself to fold now laughs at him from its position shoved against the wall.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I need to be higher than you to paint your face. And you’re not getting up, right?”

“Well, no. But—”

“So this is where I’m gonna work.”

You shrug like it’s not a big deal that you’re straddling him. Like it’s not a big fucking deal that your soft thighs now rest on either side of his torso, that you casually rest a hand on his ribcage while setting up the painting kit along his sternum. He hopes your hand stays further south only to prevent the rapid beating of his heart from being discovered under your palm.

“What design do you want,” your voice is quiet now that you’re closer. 

Makes sense. No need to yell. But it still drives Yoongi crazy that you’re basically whispering in his ear as you lean over him to grab at the unused cup of water behind the bed frame. You revive your paints with the water while he tries to keep his breathing in check, lest he cause your paints to tumble off his torso and stain his sheets in a pastel rainbow.

“Uhh, how about an old style tiger?”

“Really,” you deadpan, “I tell you I’m just starting to learn to paint and you ask for a tiger?”

“Fine. Stars, then.” He gulps when you look right at him, face flushing to create the perfect pink canvas.

“Oh, I can do that. No reference needed.”

It seems deadly quiet in Yoongi’s room. The sounds of the living room long since died down when a crowd favorite started playing and captured everyone’s attention. Now there’s only yours and his intermingled breathing and the sound of your brush tinkling against glass.

You lean down from your perch to focus on carving out a swatch of night sky to blanket Yoongi’s stars. Your breath softly puffs low against his left cheek at the same moment the wet tip of the paintbrush hits his skin. His breath hitches a little and he’s not sure which is the culprit.

“Hold still, okay?” Your words come out in a whisper. 

“Okay,” he whispers back.

Minutes pass and two shaky stars are born on Yoongi’s cheekbone. You shift around on his chest to stabilize yourself and in your movement you lose your footing a little, your right leg slipping off the edge of the mattress.

“Ah—”

“I got you,” Yoongi grunts a little as his hands fly to your hips.

He easily stops your momentum and your paints, clutched desperately in your hands, remain safe from the ground. The pads of his fingers are still dug lightly into the meat of your hips and waist. In that moment you remember just how big Yoongi’s hands are.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem.” 

A slow grin spreads on Yoongi’s face when he notices that suddenly you can’t make eye contact like you were just a few moments prior.

You do your best to continue, but your gaze keeps flitting to his, only to find that he’s already looking at you. It sets something hot aflutter in your chest. The points of the stars that you thought you had a handle on turn soft and wobbly once more. 

“Look up,” you ask when you’re out of other options and keep having to paint over your work.

Yoongi has to bite his tongue to keep from chuckling at how jittery you seem. It feels good to know that the effects of this proximity are mutual, that you’re feeling just as lightheaded from sitting in his lap as he is from having you sit in it.

“You almost done?” He drawls. He’s been counting the small irregularities in the paint on his ceiling to keep entertained.

“Uh, yeah, almost.”

He feels the cold kiss of the brush tip once, twice more before it returns to its makeshift home of the water glass with a clink.

“Do you...wanna see what it looks like,” you sit up then. 

There’s a small hand mirror across the room that you’re eyeing. But he stops you with a squeeze to your hips, reminding you that his hands have been resting there this whole time.

“Just use my phone,” he nods to the device lying abandoned in the sheets. “Take a picture.”

“Okay.”

For some reason, your hands are shaking even with the paintbrush gone and the need for focus lifted. Mechanically you wake Yoongi’s phone from sleep and access the camera app to take a photo, shifting your weight to your knees to get above him and snap a pic. Curiosity makes you open the photo album app to see the photo you just took instead of showing it to him first. The result takes your breath away. 

Yoongi looks blissfully content, almost smugly so, as he gazes up at the camera. The stars under his eyes and on the bridge of his nose look like glowing yellow freckles amidst the banner of deep navy and rich purples you used to craft the sky across his cheekbones. The paint looks good and it’s probably even your best job yet, but you can’t help yourself from looking elsewhere.

Yoongi’s tousled bed head, soft sleep shirt, and dreamy eyes bring a cloud of butterflies to your stomach. The final killer touch of the photo is the fact that your knees just barely enter the bottom of the photo. Yoongi’s hands rest on each one like they belong there.

“Yoongi.” You breathe his name like a sigh and that’s when he surges up, as if to catch his name on your lips.

The kiss takes you by surprise and you tumble down to him in a soft pile of limbs. He hums a long, pleased sound when your weight settles on top of him. The hands he had on your knees suddenly grow restless and they amble up your thighs, up your waist, around your back. His hands are ever busy gliding over as much of you as they can in the moments that you let your lips press firmly against his.

Idly you pick out the details you notice with your eyes drifting closed. Yoongi’s breath leaves his nose in puffs against your face and his sighs echo quiet in your ears. His hair is soft between your fingers and so is the collar of the worn shirt that he’s wearing. The sheets that have raised around you like makeshift linen mountains smell just like Yoongi’s sweet soap, warmed with sleep.

“Shouldn’t we—”, he plants a kiss on your mouth, “shouldn’t we talk about this,” you mumble against his lips.

Yoongi’s hands stop in their tracks along the midpoint of your spine. The sigh he lets out is long suffering.

“Sorry. I just—I got carried away.”

“I mean, you don’t have to apologize for it. I just...thought you saw me as a friend.”

“Do friends confess their love for each other? That’s new.”

“L-love?” Your eyes turn wide and starry. “When have either of us ever confessed our love?”

“Well, I did. At the bar. Or did you have to block that memory out?”

Your brow furrows at the self-deprecating turn his smile takes and you clasp one of his still-wandering hands.

“You mean—Yoongi, I thought you were just being mushy. I thought you meant, like, ‘I love that we’re all here together as friends right now’. If I had known that was a real confession,” you trail off.

“You what?” 

Yoongi’s mood elevates once more, enjoying the sudden turn your rambling is taking. Teasingly he bucks his hips under you, startling you out of your bashful silence and forcing you to press two hands to his chest for balance. A cute little sound leaves your lips and he’s tempted to do it again.

“You were saying,” he grins up at you and his hands start to wander once again.

“I would have—”

“Baby, speak up.” He’s all coos but there’s a little venom in his voice. He likes how embarrassed you are.

“I would have left with you that night. If I had known.”

His shirt wrinkles up where your fingers twist anxiously. Normally you trample through Yoongi’s space, no shame or hesitation in the way you leave him on his toes. It had always been a fun game for you to see how close you could get before he’d have to draw a line, before his besotted smile would become too hard to hide. But now you’re not so sure you can handle it directed at you in all its glory.

“That’s a nice idea,” he says. 

In one moment he looks like he’s really weighing the idea, serious in his appraisal. The next moment he’s tugging you down when you least expect it, bringing a corner of the blanket to envelope you both. Under the cover of weak darkness, he threads a hand through the hair at the base of your neck. 

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

[holylulusworld]

October the 31st, the day I disappeared

Written for @jtargaryen18​​​ ‘s Haunted House challenge. I hope you like this A/B/O version...

Summary: A celebrity haunted house for charity will be open one night only, Halloween night. You spent days trying to get a ticket online for the event. Thanks to a bad day on Halloween, you get there only a minute before the line closes. You’re the last person to go in and thinking that’s either really bad (everyone is tired or would be in a hurry to see you out) or really good (maybe you’d get some extra time with the one you came to see). You are never seen again. You select the set of the celebrity you’re there to see. When you get too close, you step into another dimension - their world – and there’s no escape. (I used the given summary…)

Pairing: Alpha!Curtis Everett x Omega!Reader

Characters: Gilliam, Edgar, Ofc Jake, unnamed ofc’s

Warnings: angst, language, a hint of blood, mention of deaths, scenting, true mates, smut, unprotected sex, mating bite, dub-con (if you squint), possessive alpha

October the 31st, your world…,

“Come on, hurry up, Jake,” you groan, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to go to the haunted house to look at guys who look better than him. “I was at that motorboat show with you too.”

“I wanted to look at boats, not other guys,” Jake rolls his eyes, stopping right in front of the house. “Can I not wait outside? Go and look at those wax figures and get all riled up for me.” He runs one hand over his crotch, and you sigh, asking yourself why you are with a guy like him.

“Yeah, you wanted to look at the boats but ended up ogling the hostesses. Don’t think I didn’t see you leave with one of them,” hurt you look at the house once again. The clock strikes five to midnight and you know, it’s Jake who cheated on you more than once or your favorite celebrities tonight. “You know, stay outside Jake. I’ve got this.”

You run off before Jake gets the chance to argue – not that he would want to enter the haunted house. “I’ll wait here, smoke a cigarette, and imagine you blow me off.”

Disgusted you run toward the door, showing your ticket to step inside the haunted house just in time.

The clock strikes midnight when you stroll toward your favorite character.

“Curtis Everett,” you swoon, looking up at the man you admire so much. “I saw your movie at least twenty times. I still can’t believe you didn’t make it.”

“Step closer to have a look,” the man who validated your ticket offers. “Don’t be shy.” Hesitantly you look at the man, shaking your head.

“No, Sir. I don’t think the owner wants us to touch the wax figures. I wouldn’t dare to risk I ruin it. I can watch him from afar but thank you, Sir,” you decline his offer as polite as possible.

“No worries, young lady,” the man chuckles, getting a device looking like a remote control out of his pocket. “You don’t have to watch him from afar any longer.” An uneasy feeling spreads through your body as you realize there are no other visitors around. 

When you entered the haunted house, at least half a dozen girls were swooning all over Chris Evans's characters. Some men admired Carol Danvers and others stormed toward Sebastian Stan's characters. 

Now suddenly everyone is gone, and you wonder where they all went to. Or should you rather ask what happened to them?

“What do you mean?” You gasp when the man’s eyes start to glow in the dim light of the room. He’s mumbling words in a foreign language, a dark smirk on his lips.

“Don’t be afraid, it will only hurt for a moment. I’ll get your soul and your body will turn to dust,” you look around the room, now seeing the dust in front of all the wax figures. Your heart hammers when you step backward, back bumping into Curtis's chest. 

All you can do is to close your eyes and wait for your end. The song your mother used to sing to help you fall asleep comes to your mind and you start mumbling the words. The man’s eyes widen, but you can’t see it when the words your mother taught you slowly calm you.

“No…no…I can’t lose control,” you feel hands grasp for you, souls screaming your name when an arm wraps around your waist, dragging you backward. You scream in terror, fight the embrace as the room starts spinning.

“Don’t take her soul away from me,” the man screams, dashing toward you but it’s too late. Whatever grasped your body drags you into another world with rules of its own…

“Is she one of the front enders?” You hear voices close to you. Your mind is still clouded with darkness and fear. “Girl doesn’t look like she belongs to the tail, Curtis.” 

“She doesn’t belong to them,” Curtis’s voice much closer now, his fingers graze your neck. “Now go and check the section. I can’t let anyone get her."

“Curtis, she could be a spy,” humming the tall alpha leans over your body to sniff at your neck, dragging his nose along your pulse point. “I’ll be right back.”

“Go, tell Gilliam we found a girl,” your eyes slowly flutter open when the alpha kisses your skin. “There she goes, little omega.”

“I…I,” Your eyelids flutter shut when you pray this is all a nightmare. His breath hot in your neck, his scent surrounding your senses the alpha brings you out of your prayers. “I swear that I’m not part of Wilford’s plan. I…”

“Who are you?” A knife pressed to your throat forces your eyes to meet Curtis's darkened blue orbs. “If you are not part of the plan you can answer my question.”

“You will not believe me,” lips quivering you look up at Curtis, knowing he will not trust anyone not coming from the tail end. 

“Try me,” he’s sliding his hand over your chest, gasping when you push your breast into his hand. “I want to know how you got this far. We control the water supply section.”

“I know,” your shiver, feeling his thumb pinch your nipple, slowly rolling it. “I will tell you how I ended up here, but you’ll believe I’m crazy.”

“I want to hear it, omega,” Curtis’s hand slowly moves down your chest, fingers curling into your crop top. You shudder when his fingers reach your pants. “Tell me about it.”

“I visited a celebrity haunted house for charity. I got the tickets online and the only person I wanted to see was you, or rather the wax figure they made,” you gasp when his fingers deftly unbutton your pants. “Suddenly everyone was gone but a strange man. He mumbled words in a language I didn’t understand. Then I felt the wax figure behind me wrap his arm around me…that’s all I think.”

“Online? That’s impossible. Everything and anyone outside the train got destroyed. There is nothing left,” Curtis dips on hand into your pants, fingertips grazing your clit. “You’re crazy or a liar.”

“I still got the ticket, alpha,” you grind against his hand, slick slowly soaking Curtis's fingers. “You can have a look. I swear this is not my world. I don’t know how, but I think that I ended up in an alternative universe.”

“Alternative universe,” humming the alpha makes quick work of your pants, drags the fabric down your legs, along with your soaked panties. “You’re crazy.”

“I told you that you won’t believe me, Curtis,” his lips press against yours, claim your soft pillow in a surprisingly gentle kiss. There is hunger hidden behind his eyes, but he doesn’t want to unleash the beast he released at the beginning of the revolt. “I don’t know how to get back.”

“You won’t,” Curtis states, ripping your top off your body to reveal your braless chest. He groans, head dipping to suckle at one of your nipples. “You’re mine now.”

“Yours?” you cry out feelings his hand slip back between your legs to toy with your clit. He’s slowly running his thumb around the swollen numb, bringing you to the edge of an orgasm. “I can’t be yours. Jake, he’s…” 

“I will not let you go,” you whimper, body craving the alpha. “I knew the moment I woke behind you that you’ll be mine. I could scent you.”

“Behind me? This is impossible. How can you…” Realization hits you. You didn’t end up in the world of Curtis Everett from the movie you know. “Edgar is still alive. This means things didn’t end up like in the movie.”

“We are not in a fucking movie,” he grips your hands, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, to hold you to the ground. “You’re in my world now. I don’t care if you came from the front end or another dimension. No matter what – you are mine now,” his teeth sink into your neck right before he slips two thick fingers into your slicker channel.

You should be afraid, should fight his touch but your secret fantasy comes true and you can’t deny the alpha your body or obedience. Not with his mark on your neck.

“You don’t understand, Sir.” Jake pants, fighting the cops who deny him access to the haunted house. “My girlfriend, Y/N. She went inside that house like four hours ago and never came back. I can’t reach her phone.”

“Sir, we must ask you to remain calm. We are looking for all the visitors. All we found inside the house was dust in front of the wax figures.” Panicked Jake looks at the haunted house, screaming your name when he realizes he lost you forever.

“Y/N…Y/N…no…no,” he sniffles. “I’m so sorry for being an ass tonight…or like ever…”

“Mine, that’s who you are,” your clothes scattered all over the floor of the train, your face pressed into his dirty coat you kneel, shivering in anticipation. “I will not let you go.”

“I can’t stay,” Curtis doesn’t listen to your words. All rational thoughts left his mind the moment he caught your scent. “I need to go back. There must be a way.”

“There is no way you’ll leave your alpha,” you close your eyes when the tip slips inside. “I haven’t had a woman like you in ages…or rather never. You smell like hope.” His hips snap into your ass and you fist the coat, crying out at the wide stretch. “You feel like heaven in this hell.”

“Please…oh-god,” he sets a pace you can’t match. His hands touch every inch of your body. There is so much desperation in the way he takes you it breaks your heart. “Curtis…”

“I want to know your name, beautiful.” He whines, lips pressing against the mark he left in a haze. “You feel so soft against me, so pure.”

“Y/N.” You choke your name out, mind clouded with lust. “I swear I didn’t lie to you…alpha.” Curtis groans at your words, holding you to the cold ground, now speeding up. 

“God, I wish I could fill this tight cunt, but not now. When we took over the train, everything will change. I’ll get you round soon,” Curtis purrs. “I want you to cum for me.” You teether on the edge, ready to let go.

“Curtis,” a breathless moan leaves your lips when his cock rubs over your g-spot. Curtis pulls out to flip you onto your back. “Please don’t stop…”

“I won’t…never,” he’s forcing his way back inside of you. His dirty face buries into your neck and just now you feel his sticky skin and that his natural alpha scent mixes with the smell of dirt, blood, and death. 

Tears run down your cheeks when reality catches up with you. This is not a nightmare, nor a fantasy. Curtis Everett, the guy from a movie just claimed you. 

An alpha you don’t even know moves on top of you, cock spreading you wider than Jake ever could. You lose a part of yourself when you come undone, nails digging into his back.

“That’s it, Y/N,” his teeth sink into your neck again, this time he draws blood and you cry out, feeling his knot swell. “I lied,” he growls when his cum floats your belly. “Gonna knot you now…”

Curtis didn’t let up for almost two hours until he finally brought you to his hideout in a corner of the water supply section. 

“Mine,” his lips travel down your shoulder, nibble lightly at your soft skin. “So soft and warm.” You wish you could enjoy his touch or that you can feel your bond form. 

“I want you to tell anyone you ran from the front end. That Wilford tried to make you his omega, but you caught my scent, ‘mega. I can’t have them question you.”

“Curtis, I need to find a way to go back. I can’t live in a movie,” he fists your hair, forces you to crane your neck to reveal the mark he left. “Alpha?”

“I’m sorry to tell you, but you were lost the moment my teeth sank into your neck,” he smirks against your skin, erection pressing into your ass. “If only you would’ve run to the next section, omega. You could’ve gone home as long as you had your ticket.”

“What?” You gasp, struggling to get up. “No…no…you are supposed to be the hero…”

“In my world, you eat or get eaten. You asked me why Edgar didn’t die, well…” Curtis snickers, into your neck, not missing your body starts shaking. “It’s because we run the train. There was this nice man. He came to us, offered his help if we give him something in return.”

“The souls…the man was talking about souls,” you sniffle, hiding your face in the palms of your hands. “How could you do this?”

“We agreed and he sent us two or three people a year on Halloween. The poor bastards ended up dead, slaughtered by people of the front end. I never had to kill anyone. I just didn’t help them,” Curtis whispers into your ear. “You are different, Y/N. I scented you and knew, you’ll be mine.”

“He screamed and acted as if he can’t get my soul…”

“It’s his game, Y/N. He likes to play with his prey. This time, he got played, though. We found the sigils he pained on the walls of the train and removed all of them right after I dragged you into my world. There is no way back.”

“I’m stuck…with you…” 

“No such words, baby. I swear you’ll have a good life by my side. It’s not the life you chose, but it’s the one you’ll learn to love…”

One year later, Halloween...,

“There is nothing you can do?” Jake looks at the haunted house, stomach twisted in knots. “It’s been a year and none of the victims got found. Now they open it again as if nothing happened. Twenty people disappeared in one night.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” the officer sighs. “I lost a friend too, you know. I wish I could stop them, but there is nothing I can do. I hope, one day we will find out what happened to our friends.”

“I do too…”

“She’s so beautiful…” Curtis watches you lie on his bed. Your belly filled with his baby you sleep peacefully. “I knew she would adapt soon enough. “Maybe one day she’ll accept I did this for her.”

“I don’t think she’ll believe you,” Gilliam sighs. “This was not the way we wanted to win the revolution. Using that monster to get rid of most of the people from the front end. Keeping a few hostages to work for us.”

“They did the same,” Curtis argues, eyes never leaving your sleeping form. He rarely lets anyone get close to you. Most of the time you must stay in the room he stole from Wilford. 

“Did you listen to your words, Curtis? We do the same and that makes us monsters too. The only difference is – we should’ve known better…”

All works Tags

@yolobloggers

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@miraclesoflove

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@letsdisneythings

@i-love-superhero

@psychicforest

@thevelvetseries

@deanmonandnegansbitch

@sabascio

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@trumpettay

@zxph-yr

@belovedcherry

@matsumama

@rynabarnesrogers-reading

@emoryhemsworth

@buckybarnesplumwhore

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

@kitkatd7

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Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags

@stylesismyhubs

@multisuperfandom

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@fallenoutofrose

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@heyiamthatbitch

@rosalynshields

@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

@patzammit

@donutloverxo

@saiyanprincessswanie

@supernaturalwintersoldier​ ad

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Tightrope Fanfic

Title: Tightrope

Summary:  Virgil feels lost. It’s not a foreign feeling, especially when one is the embodiment of Anxiety. But it feels like one as he stares down at a sniffling Roman in his arms. He doesn’t know what has happened. One moment, the others are having their spat about the wedding. The next, Roman barges into his room mid-breakdown and hasn’t left since. 

Pairings: platonic prinixety

Word-Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Crying, Anger, Panic, Discussion of POF, Hurt/Comfort

This is a companion fic to Safety Net, but you don’t have to read that one to understand the context of this one <3

-

Virgil feels lost. It’s not a foreign feeling, especially when one is the embodiment of Anxiety. But it feels like one as he stares down at a sniffling Roman in his arms. He doesn’t know what has happened. One moment, the others are having their spat about the wedding. The next, Roman barges into his room mid-breakdown and hasn’t left since.

He keeps expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him. That perhaps this is some delayed April’s Fool joke. A ploy by Remus or one of the Others to fuck with him. His mind crafts a thousand possibilities, a thousand explanations for why this can’t be reality.

Because Virgil doesn’t know how to handle a Roman who fell from a great height and shattered completely. What if he cannot put the pieces back together again? What if he messes up and makes things worse? What if he’s the one to cause this in the first place?

No, he refuses to go down that spiraling thought pattern. Because if he unravels now, then he’ll be completely useless to Roman. He compartmentalizes the fear, stuffing it away to haunt him at a later date.

Roman’s cries have died down to a few hiccuping gasps of air. The ever-poised, ever-presentable Prince of Passion is anything but. He lays in Virgil’s arms, as limp and lifeless as a doll. His white princely jacket wrinkly and half-undone, red sash hanging loosely. Virgil cannot see his eyes from underneath his rumpled, messy hair but he’s willing to bet they’re bloodshot. Virgil bits his lips as he notes the dark ichor running down Roman’s cheeks like smeared mascara. 

Roman has been in his room for far too long. Especially for someone who was already in a fragile emotional state upon showing up. Virgil shouldn’t have allowed him to stay. But he couldn’t find in himself to deny Roman, not when he’d looked at Virgil with a helpless terror in his eyes. So he had chosen instead to hold onto a sobbing Roman while trying to figure out what the hell happened. 

The clock in his room is hardly reliable, but he’s certain at least an hour has passed and he’s still nowhere closer than he’d been at the start. Which is that it involves the stupid wedding, Patton and Deceit. The latter of which, apparently told them his actual name. He won’t know more unless Roman divulges more. And in the swirling storm of hysteria that is his room, the chances of that happening is slim.

Before he can let doubt rake its claws into him, he pulls Roman closer to his chest and syncs out. Roman realizes a moment too late what’s happening. He lets out a startled gasp, tries pushing away, but it’s too late. With a loud crackle, they appear in the gloomy fog of a dead forest.

Roman looks around, eyebrows bunched up together. If this was any other situation, Virgil might’ve smirked.

“It’s the imagination,” Virgil says, answering the question behind Roman’s bewildered gaze, “Or at least my little pocket of it. No one will find us here.”

Well maybe except Remus, the one responsible for its creation. Virgil is hoping that today will not be the day he decides to return here for the first time in years.

Roman opens his mouth to speak, yet hesitates halfway through. He turns his head away from Virgil, shrugging. Virgil’s cold dead heart plummets at this. Roman isn’t supposed to be this defeated. He’s supposed to be stubborn, obstinate, argumentative. Virgil knows how to handle that. He knows how to bait Roman into banter, to get him to admit the root of his problems. But this? He doesn’t know how to deal with a Roman this apathetic. And that scares him.

Virgil should apologize, he thinks. After everything that happened, he hunkered down in his room. He stayed away thinking his presence would only be detrimental than beneficial. He was Anxiety after all, flight or fight. In this case, he chose flight. But obviously, like everything else in his existence, that’d been the wrong choice yet again.

He inhales deeply, his breath hitching at the last moment, the words refusing to come out. They remain stuck in clumps inside his throat, refusing to solidify into verbal spoken words. The ghostly howl of the wind is the only sound between the two.

Then Roman laughs. It sounds more like a cat hacking up a hairball than his usual melodious chuckles. It’s loud, harsh and absolutely dripping with pain. Halfway through he ends up in a coughing fit. Virgil watches, unsure how to respond.

“You were right.” Roman croaks at last, sagging heavily against a tree.

Those words aren't what Virgil likes to hear. It’s never good when he, Anxiety, is right.  He’d much prefer to be proven wrong. Even if that meant Roman lording it over his head for weeks on end. It’s annoying as hell and he never thought he’d miss that until now.

Virgil swallows, pushing the sudden ache in his chest aside. He doesn’t need confirmation to know what he was right about.

 Still, his heart thudding heavily in his chest, he asks anyways, “About Janus?”

Roman nods, grimacing. 

“Ro, what happened?” Virgil asks, unable to hold that question within himself any longer.

The fanciful side doesn’t respond at first. His hand traces the grooves of the bark on the tree he’s leaned against. His lips twist and contort, as if fighting to find the words to say. Virgil isn’t sure if he’s ever seen Roman ever at a loss for words until now.

“I thought it was a villainous trick at first. Just another ploy to get us to trust him. I made fun of it, even. It wasn’t until the way you reacted when I mentioned it to you that I thought otherwise,” Roman says, breaking in mid-conscious thought. Something that is very Roman-like, forgetting other people can’t read his mind. There must be something in Virgil’s face because he clarifies, “Deceit’s name I mean.”

“I mean, I don’t blame you,” Virgil says slowly, toying with his hoodie strings, “He never told any of the Others.”

“But he told you?”

Now it’s Virgil’s turn to stare at the ground. The ache in his chest returns, except it’s different. It’s like a fire-pit at a summer camp-out. It’s warm and comfortable to linger next to, but stay too long and you’ll be sweltering in the unbearable suffocating heat. The same goes for thinking about the past. That’s why he hates getting nostalgic. It’s hard to reminisce about the good times without remembering why they ended.

The old him that hasn’t been extinguished yet, the one that called himself Janus’ friend, is indignant that Roman apparently made fun of Janus’ name. However the newer him that calls himself Virgil and wears the purple hoodie, isn’t. Good, he thinks, he deserves it. And he isn’t too ashamed of feeling that way. Not after the raging forest fire that burnt down their friendship in the first place.

“Yeah.” Virgil breaths out with stifled lungs. He can feel Roman’s eyes burning a hole in his head. He thinks he’d find an unspoken question in them if he looks up. He doesn’t elaborate. He isn’t in the mood for scorching his tongue on the ashes of a cremated friendship. Especially when it’d shift the focus onto him and not Roman. Something he’s certain Roman wants despite it being so rare for him to flinch away from the spotlight. 

For all their vast, stark differences, they aren’t really that different when it comes down to several things, one being that neither of them like showing weakness. They are also incredibly stubborn. It just so happens Virgil has the stronger resolve at this moment.

“I trusted him,” Roman says, continuing where he’d left off, “I trusted him, I thought he’d knew best and I just wanted--” 

A huff cuts off Roman’s words as he flings his arms towards the sky. He paces in front of Virgil, muttering bits and pieces too quick for him to understand. Perhaps he does need to share a little. Just to help Roman know and understand he isn’t alone. 

“Listen, I get it,” Virgil says, “I also trusted Janus once too--”

“No, it wasn’t Janus--well, yes, but--” Roman yanks at his hair, “I meant Patton!”

Patton? Virgil feels as if he'd been riding on the flying magic rug from Aladdin. Only the magic rug has been ripped from underneath him and now he’s freefalling into a waterfall full of sharp pointy rocks at the bottom.

He’d thought he knew where this conversation was heading except now he’s lost more than ever before. He needs a minute to breathe, to process what’s happening. Roman doesn’t give him that. He pushes on, shaking his head like a riled-up mistreated stallion from a horse girl movie.

“I wanted to do what was right for Thomas and--and Patton has always known what’s right, right?”

He gazes desperately at Virgil, searching for reassurance, for affirmation. Virgil’s heart sinks. He can't honestly give that to Roman, though he'd love to give Roman whatever his heart desires to stop his pain. 

Patton tries his best, he really does. But even he is wrong sometimes. He has made mistakes, ones that have hurt Virgil himself both past and present. And although Virgil has forgiven him, it doesn’t change the fact that even their softest puffball isn’t always right.

He can tell Roman realizes that by the way his scowl grows bigger.

“Am I too dimwitted?” Roman growls, “Was I the only one foolish enough to believe that? Just like believing that I could truly be--be--” 

He lets out a tormented scream, slumping down against a tree. Head bowed, knees drawn close, arms pulled tightly around himself. Virgil stands a few feet away, still so far from understanding as he was when Roman first appeared in his room. Only that apparently he needed to kick both Janus’ and Patton’s collective asses.

Virgil withholds a sigh as he crouches down next to Roman. 

A gloomy fog hardly provides the best lighting. It’s better than the dark murkiness of his room, however, and it’s here that he notices something. A blueish-purple splotch of something. Just barely poking out of Roman’s collar. It’s then, Virgil remembers that a metaphoric “bruised ego” is anything but metaphoric for one metaphysical entity such as Roman, Creativity and Ego in one.

“Princey,” Virgil says, his voice unusually level, “did you get hurt by what happened earlier?”

Roman doesn’t answer his question. Not directly at least. “Lee and Mary Lee hardly spoke to Thomas at the wedding, did you know that?”

“Yeah,” Virgil bites his lips, “I knew that.”

It’s a rhetorical question. Of course Virgil knows--he’s a part of Thomas. He’d been with Thomas during the wedding. The leg bouncing up and down in an anxious jitter. Directing the eyes away from the merriment of the wedding and towards that pointless moronic mobile game. The clenching feeling in Thomas’ throat during the brief interaction with Lee and Mary Lee. He hadn’t even been able to say hello because of Virgil.

He’d tried so hard to hold back, to not torment Thomas with his decision anymore than his host had already endured. It didn’t really matter in the end. As Thomas finally slipped away from the wedding, so had Virgil slipped into his room. He ignored the muffled noises of the debate erupting outside the mindscape. Why show his face when Thomas already knew what his input would be? Or knowing what he’d once been, for that matter? Or at least, that had been his justifications at the time.

“Which hardly seems fair! After what I--Thomas sacrificed to be there for them. B-but it’d been the right decision, right?” Roman laughs, shaking his head. He doesn’t wait for an answer as he pushes on, “Was it too selfish to expect more? To think that making the right decision would result in an award?”

Virgil stays silent. Morality isn’t his forte; sure as Anxiety he often cautioned Thomas to follow societal rules. It’s often easier to go with the current rather than fight against it. So he’s hardly the most reliable source of it. 

And as for his role, both the wedding and the call-back offered the same amount of dread. After all, he’s Anxiety. It’s literally his job to nitpick and point out every single thing a situation could go wrong, no matter how improbable or absurd. Unlike Roman, he’d be lying if he said he was surprised by the outcome of the wedding. It’s not far off from what he had predicted.

On the flipside, he could offer a million ways of how the audition could’ve ended poorly. A tear in Thomas’ pants mid-audition. Thomas blanking out on a crucial line. A meteor falling from the atmosphere and effectively crushing Thomas to death. Okay, that last one is highly improbable but it could still happen! You never know!

Regardless, he doubted any of that is what Roman needed to hear.

“I trusted him. He’d said it’d been the right decision when I made it. And I believed him.” Roman scoffs.

Virgil frowns, cautiously sitting a few feet away from Roman. He chooses not to look him in the eye, treating him as if he’s an easily-startled wild creature.

“Y’know, he and I are going through a bit of a rough patch. He’s trying his best, I know he is. But take it from me--sometimes someone’s best isn’t always good enough. And I think it’s okay if it...takes time for you to forgive Patton.”

“No!”

“No?”

“I mean,” Roman lets out a frustrated scream, “I don’t know! Before, there was a script, a stage, parts to play. Ones I had intimately memorized! But it’s as if it’s before the curtain rises before the opening show and the director has thrown out the script completely. He expects me after years of practice to perform something I’ve never seen--that even he has no concept of what it looks like and h-how is any actor expected to perform in such conditions?” 

A light-bulb finally goes off in Virgil’s head.

“You’re...angry at Thomas, aren’t you?”

Roman flinches as he’d been struck, throwing his body backwards harshly against the tree. He looks hardly affected by it as he scrambles quickly to his feet.

“Wh-what? No! That’s absurd!” Roman protests, “I’m not angry at Thomas--”

“But you are,” Virgil interrupts, rising to his feet, “You’re angry at both Patton and Janus, yeah, but they’re just targets to throw your misplaced anger at. Because you don’t want to admit it’s actually Thomas--”

“Yes, because you’re wrong, Mary Mary Q-quite Misconstrued!” Roman puffs up his chest, trying to keep his head high, “I--I’d never, I can’t hate Thomas--”

“Whoa, I didn’t say you hated him,” Virgil says, gently tugging Roman’s hands into his own, “there’s a difference between being mad at someone for something, and hating them.”

Roman looks at him with almost a wild gaze to his eyes, so close to almost hyperventilating. Virgil can almost see the invisible cracks in Roman’s skin, his multitude of facades peeling away before Virgil’s eyes. He looks at Roman and sees himself. 

“I used to think they were the same thing,” Virgil begins, “But they’re not. Hate is when you abhor ill will towards someone, when you wish them dead or worse. Anger...anger is just a form of fear. And it’s okay to feel and experience that anger, you don’t have to repress it.”

“I’m not scared of Thomas,” Roman scoffs, his gaze drawn to the forest floor rather than Virgil.

“But you are afraid that if Thomas can accept Janus and possibly Remus, then he could just as easily change his mind regarding you, right?” Virgil questions, “You’re afraid because all you've ever done has been in Thomas’ best interest and suddenly now you’re being told all it’s done is hurt him. You’re afraid but you don’t want to admit it, so you turn to anger instead because that’s better than being scared, right?”

“I’m not…” Roman trails off, clenching his jaw. Virgil is fully expecting to get punched by the way his body tenses up. Roman does lunge towards him just then, arms flailing out. Virgil doesn’t even have a chance to raise his arms up in defense before he gets an armful of blubbering prince once more.

“I’m supposed to be Thomas’ hero, he told me I was, but what if I’m not? W-what if I never was? And--and I have to be good, Virgil, I can’t be evil--”

Roman lets it all go then. It’s a tidal wave of anxiety and fears, of self-doubt and self-deprecation. Almost any other person would become overwhelmed by how much perturbation Roman’s kept hidden all these years. But Virgil is Anxiety, his realm is terror and trepidation. He’s experienced every fear-induced thought and more under the sun. He understands it better than perhaps anyone else ever could.

He knows Roman will most likely clam up after today. That later on, they’ll need to address these things in detail and take care of the bruises mottling his skin. Roman will need encouragement to rebuild his confidence and to turn away from self-destructive habits. Both of which are things that Virgil struggles with all too well. He knows it to feel as impossible as walking across a tightrope blindfolded. Right now, however, all Roman needs is for someone to listen.

And so listen Virgil does.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Part 1: Church

Part 2: Do It For Me

Part 3: No Mercy

Member: Juyeon

Genre: SMUtSMUTMSUTMSUTMSUT

“all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you.”

your stockings were the first piece of clothing to go. juyeon doesn’t even bother getting it off properly, literally tearing it up into little pieces while your tongues were mindlessly trying to find each other despite your lips being detached. 

you wanted to laugh at the desperation, but the chance doesn’t arrive; not when he gets the last piece of stocking around your ass off. the only thing covering your rear was your skirt and your already-once-fucked-over core, your underwear.

there was no way you could’ve actually seen his apartment, not with the reckless pushing and pulling over the hungry face-eating. you were so riled up and in need to have him again, even after letting him ruin you in the car, there was nothing in your head besides wanting to feel him between your legs again.

frustration starts emitting off him once the stocking was off and there was literally nothing you could hold on to besides his arms. lust and desire starts dripping off his tongue and onto yours, and you couldn’t stop the dirty thought of swallowing his saliva down your throat like you did vodka.

his hands find your bare ass under the skirt, and he picks you up almost effortlessly. his steps were so quick and large, your teeth kept knocking against his while he walks somewhere and gets a door open. 

his hold around you made you feel like a baby, and your thighs were almost resting on his belt like a seat. you feel him leaning forwards, and your back hits a mattress. he doesn’t pull away, but his hands find your skirt and tug them off ruthlessly as if they didn’t have a button and a zip on the back.

a loud groan escapes the back of your throat when you feel the material being yanked off your legs, and you break the kiss, momentarily annoyed that he’s destroyed not only you, but your clothes.

“hey--”

“quiet, princess,” he quickly shuts you up by wrapping his fingers around your throat and giving you a long, hard kiss. “you’re going to need that energy for later.”

your eyes widen as he pulls away, his words struggling to find a spot in you to anchor themselves into. he reverses a few steps and the shirt comes off. your heart starts to pound at the sight of his lean torso. you’ve seen it before, but the view of his veins lining his arms and hands embeds itself into your head. 

“stare anymore and you’ll start drooling.”

his eyes clawed its way into yours, and for the slightest moment, you felt scared of what he was going to do to you. your elbows try to prop you up, the cool air of the room wrapping your bare legs while he starts taking small, menacing, almost threatening steps towards you. 

the gulp that instinctively threw itself down your neck was so loud, you saw a hint of his demonic smirk appear on his lips. his hands find the mattress, and something tells you to move back. 

you try to look away and elsewhere, but his fingers find your chin to force you to keep eye contact with him. the game of you moving back slowly while he drives you further back into his bed was killing you, and more importantly, it was making you both terrified and excited. 

your breath gets stuck in your throat when your back hits the head board, and you were so worried you were going to pass out. the demonic smile finally shows itself in full and his glare was so dangerously enticing, it was making you shiver. 

he finally reaches you, knees on either sides of your thighs. his hands find the top of the head board behind you, and his fingers trail along your chin, holding it up so you were still made to look at him. “why do you look so scared?” 

you tighten your jaw and grit your teeth, fists grabbing a bunch of material off the mattress when you let the reality sink in. 

he was well aware who you were now.

last year, you were soft on the outside and crazy when you were drunk.

now you were crazy on the outside, but a fucking sub when faced with him. 

“i’m not going to hurt you,” he angles his head and nearly presses his lips against yours. “but i can’t promise you won’t cry.”

he shoves his lips so hard against yours, your teeth knocked against each other and the head board gets pushed against the wall. you were frozen stiff, but your lips were busy trying to prevent him from destroying yours. 

his moans were so erotically apparent and painfully difficult to ignore, and you don’t remember him being so loud before. your hands finally release the bedsheet and travel around his bare shoulders, and he gives you a few seconds to run your hands all over his muscles. 

but you hear something close somewhere, and you start to feel a soft material wrap around your wrist. your lids fly wide open, and the first thing you see is his devilish grin when he pulls away. 

writhing out of his grip was so useless, it was making you doubt yourself. 

were you just letting him do whatever he wanted to now? 

or was this who you really are now?

his strength and hold around your wrists allow him to tie them to the little holes and gaps on his head board without much problem. your eyes dart back and forth between his smile and the knot that was tightening around one of your wrists.

“wait--” you hide your other wrist behind your back, and he watches you carefully when he notices your reluctance. he shoots you a look of mischief before dipping his lips into your neck where your sweet spot was, and you could only marvel at the fact that he still remembers where it was. your eyes flutter shut and a thrill rushes down your neck and into the rest of your body. 

he steals this opportunity and pulls out your arm, tying it to the head board while he pleases you with his lips on your skin. 

a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him shift away, and helplessness washes over you at the state of your wrists. 

“you may have more guts when you’re sober...” he fishes out another piece of cloth, and you were already about to cry when you realised what it was. “but you’re definitely less of a daredevil than you were one year ago.”

your vision slowly blacks out when he wraps the blindfold around your head, and your chest starts to pound.

pulling on your wrists were deemed completely useless, and you hear the head board creak at your attempt. you cross your legs, feeling the skin of your stomach coming into contact with the air now that your top was pulled up due to your hands being tied to the head board. 

“after the last time, i can only imagine how hard it was for you to keep quiet,” his fingers hook onto your underwear and slide them off your hip bones. you cross your legs and tilt your chin up to the ceiling, the lack of sight making you even more wary of what was happening.

dirty thoughts fill your head as if he wasn’t already going to ruin you all over again, and you do a horrible job of keeping it contained inside your mind. 

“so,” 

he peels your legs away from one another, and he locks them apart with his thighs. you wonder how he was going to get your underwear off, now that your legs were apart.

but you hear a tear, a sound that you were now familiar with, and your lungs empty itself when you feel your wet entrance being exposed. 

“you can moan, whine, cry, scream,” 

you feel his hands replacing his thighs against your legs, and you feel the bed between your legs sink. your knees start to bend as he lifts them off the bed and keeps them up by holding the flesh on the back of your thighs.

“and nobody will hear them except me.”

you clench your teeth in desperate lust, and you start to feel his tongue on your heat. 

a loud whimper runs off your tongue, and the gentle sound turns into a groan when he starts running his tongue all over your wetness. a finger finds your sensitive nub, and the wet muscle violates your entrance. your back leaves the bed, but he shoves you down by your hips and his palm stays there. 

tears gather in the corner of your eyes, and you feel all your neediness start to drip and leak out of you shamelessly. his breath on your nub was making everything harder to bear, and his saliva mixing with you in the your forbidden spot was driving you crazy. 

your hands were balled into fists, and your chin was tilted so far back, the crown of your head was already pressed against the head board. there was nothing to restrain all the loud, inappropriate noises that were leaving your lips, and your mind empties itself when he starts flicking his tongue against you. 

his fingers find your lips, and he gently prods against them, telling you to open up. your mind says ‘no’, but your body complies, and you mentally berate yourself for giving in so easily to him. 

he lets you run your tongue over his two fingers, and he pulls it out after a few moments. 

he was dragging every single move just to keep you guessing, and you involuntarily get even wetter at the thought of him being such a tease.

you hear a ‘pop’, and you assume he just stuck those same two fingers into his own mouth before he slides it into you with ease. 

two fingers should’ve felt like nothing compared to having him inside you, but the stretch was still apparent, and you could only imagine the smile on his face when your brows furrow on your forehead, and your chin tilts upwards again. 

you let out a soft mewl, and he starts pumping his fingers inside you, occasionally curling them inside you. the sensation drills ecstasy and pleasure throughout your entire body, but you know you weren’t going to be satisfied just from this. 

“you know you can always tell me what you want me to do,”

his raspy voice suddenly rings right next to your ear, and the close proximity causes you to gulp again. you hear a low chuckle run through him, and he licks your ear before biting on your earlobe. 

he splits his fingers, still inside you, and the stretch pushes a loud groan out of you. he pulls out, just as you felt that last pump hit your magic spot, and you hear him slide his fingers into his mouth. the sloppy sound effect was only making you need him even more, not just his fingers.

“i missed the taste of you, and i can’t believe i waited, hoping to see you again.”

your throat runs dry when you hear him say those words, and time feels like it was crawling across the floor like a snail. 

the familiar ripping sound starts again like a broken recorder, and the wrap around your torso starts to loosen. 

you’ve given up being upset with him tearing your clothes; all you wanted right now was him inside you, fucking your brains out until you couldn’t stand. 

he unhooks your bra and figures out that you were wearing one with detachable straps, and it surprises you when he takes the time to undo them instead of simply cutting those up. 

you feel his breath on your collarbone, and kisses start landing on your skin. goosebumps erupt all over your body when you realise you were stark naked, for the first time, in front of him.

his hands were wrapped around your ribs right below your breasts, and the heat emitting from his palms were only sending you signals to start to beg.

the kisses turn to sucking once he’s reached your cleavage, and he starts kneading your breasts harshly. 

trying to stifle all the moans that were collecting in your throat was too painful a task, so he shoves his tongue between your lips so you could let them out, even if they were muffled. 

his fingers play with your tip while he kneads the other, and he finally breaks the kiss to return his attention to your chest. 

the sucking he was doing to your skin was definitely going to leave marks, but you couldn’t process anything besides everything he was giving you now. he wraps his lips around your tip and starts sucking like before. hisses and whimpers take turns to seep through your teeth and you feel your own juices start to leak out of you. 

“please--” you blurt out in desperation, his mouth still sucking on your left breast. he hears you and pulls away with a loud ‘pop’. 

the rustle tells you that he’s shifted away, and you hear the metal of his belt coming undone. the thought of having him fuck you while you were visually impaired runs through your head as one of the many dirty thoughts you were too intimidated to say. 

“i wish i could punish you for leaving me...” 

the belt and his jeans hit the floor. 

“but i can’t because you’re not mine.”

you could feel his entire torso loom over you as the head board creaks backwards from the weight he was applying on it through his hands. he shifts a little, and you feel his tip lightly brushing against your dripping, needy core.

“for someone who hasn’t seen me in a year, you’re awfully needy.” he nearly growls in your ear, and shifts so subtly, just so his tip would be rubbing against your entrance. 

you were on the verge of losing your fucking mind. 

your breathing was now messy, mixed with huffs and pants, and the silence tells you he was just waiting for you to ask. 

“if you’re not going to ask, it’s fine,” 

he shifts again and pushes the tip inside you, only to pull out again. 

the frustration overwhelms you, and you pull against the head board in dissatisfaction. 

“because we both know i can do this all night, and you can’t.”

your lips were parted to help your breathing, but the constant prodding against your entrance was so fucking annoying, and it was making you lose all bearings on self-control. you feel his fingers find the back of your blindfold and he takes it off, forcing your eyes to register all the contours and lines of his collarbones, chest and abs. 

he was looking down at you with playfully threatening eyes, because he knows he was right. 

it was so much more worse to have your vision returned to you, because you were still tied to the damn bed, and all you could see was his length brushing ever so lightly against your heat. 

the complete lack of movement was so hard to digest, with the only thing you were feeling being the tip of him prodding against your wetness. you look up at him with pleading eyes, and he shakes his head ever so slightly. he lowers his head right by your ear, his breath making your hair stand on the back of your neck.

“ask and you will receive, princess.”

“juyeon,” his name finally leaves your tongue for once, and you hear him offer a small chuckle right next to your neck. “please. you’re right,”

you feel every bit of pride and ego bleed out of you, and you shut your eyes from the degradation you were imposing on yourself.

“i can’t do this all night because i fucking need you.”

he shifts away from your ear and looms over you again, his eyes finally satisfied with whatever he heard. 

“that’s it.”

with that low, lustful comment, he pushes into you and bottoms out completely. you wince and grit your teeth at the sudden stretching of your walls, and your head throws itself back into the head board. bolts of pleasure and bliss start to run through your veins, and the the sight of his toned body over you was enough to make you wish this was your eternity.

he dips his nose into your chest just as he starts aggressively thrusting into you, your legs wrapped around his hips and his back crouched over your body. there was no doubt the entire bed was jerking along with the reckless fucking, and all you could feel was him hitting every spot that was buried deep inside you. 

“ungh-- fuck--” you were spitting out strained words between every thrust he provided, and he starts sucking on your nipples again, making the entire experience as a whole even harder to absorb. 

“oh-- my god,” that magic spot was slowly revealing itself, and he has found it. “fuck, juyeon-- there--”

a growl rumbles through his throat, unmistakably, and the vein on his temple pushed you farther into lustful oblivion. 

“jesus--” he says in a pant, and he starts tugging on the wraps around your wrist without stopping his thrusting. 

how the fuck is he multitasking while making you his very own slut--

“agh--” the glass rod appears, and he picks up on it almost immediately. he slides out of you, the emptiness sending a wave of anger and intense frustration through you.

“oh, for fucks’ sake!” you nearly screech, but he finally undoes your wrists. before you could say anything else, he’s picked you up and pushed his way into the bathroom. 

pulling you into the shower, he turns on the tap and presses you against the glass, the heat from both you and the water starting to fog up the glass. 

he pushes into you without warning and begins thrusting as if his life depended on it. your chest was pressed against the glass, and the running water that was hitting your lower back was only heightening your senses. you were panting and moaning so hard against the glass, a large cloud of water vapour started to appear. 

his fingers dig into your hips and his shaft finds that magic spot without much difficulty. 

“oh, fuck-- juyeon, it’s there, please don’t fucking stop--” you start to whine and beg against the glass. curses roll off his lips in response, and he pulls up one of your legs and holds it against the side of his chest. his hold was so firm on you, you couldn’t even register that you were standing on one leg, with one arm pressed against the glass to support yourself. 

“don’t fucking stop, i’m begging yo--”

the change in position only deepened the thrusting, and his name starts rolling off your tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world.

the thrusts get harder, faster, and less merciful as he helps you chase your high. 

and when it comes, it was definitely the most intense one you’ve ever had.

your entire body goes into spasms, and you let out a long, groan of pleasure and bliss. he thrusts a few more times, his rhythm completely off now. 

the pants become irregular, and he pulls out abruptly, his load landing on the floor and washed away by the water. 

he drops your leg and holds you by the waist, noticing that they were already quivering from the lack of discipline. 

you let it sink in that you’ve just been completely destroyed by the same man.

holding you up with your back against the glass, your arms were now draped over his shoulders and around his neck, and the water starts to run through his hair, sticking it to his forehead. you look up at him with tired, fucked-out eyes, and he gives you that sickening, innocent, service smile you remember you had to watch him give to every passenger that boarded the plane. 

“you finally said my name,” he quietly says, shallow huffs telling you that he was still catching his breath. reaching up to comb his fringe away from his eyes, you scoffed and shook your head. 

“like you said,” you drag your thumb across his lower lip where droplets of water were collecting. “i can’t do that all night. you’re the only one who knows how to break me.”

a sweet smile spreads across his face, and his hold around your waist tightens. 

“i take that as a compliment.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5: Capital Letters

A/N: M O R E HO LY WAT E R

[diorthesuperior]

Sharing is Caring

Vocal unit + y/n smut

“Sweetie they've heard us one too many times, these walls are pretty thin, not that they're complaining, don't be afraid, one extra person in bed won't make you too loud”

You let the warm breath escape your mouth, speechless.

“You said this would be us time but fine ”

+*+

“Are you sure she'll be okay” Joshua noted clearing his throat.

“Well she thinks she's about to have her first threesome and doesn't know there's 5 of us here so”

“Isnt it too much?..”

“Joshua don't underestimate my girl”

“My bad”

The atmosphere was quiet but the same thrill rushed in all 5 in the room. The vocal unit had neighbouring dorm rooms. However seungkwan had his own room with you since you were his girlfriend and you worked as a stylist under pledis. It was a known fact that the other members in the vocal unit could hear you and seungkwan most nights as you were both quite vocal in bed.

The door knob turned and the door slowly opened.

You walked in wearing a pair of black silk short shorts and a dark blue bralette. You had a robe draped over yourself, concealing yourself slightly but not enough.

“Hey baby I-”

You stalled and looked at all the faces that were glued to you.

“Sweetie I know there's more here than you anticipated but my friends here, you said you wanted to try new things and I was thinking maybe this”

“babe”

“Y/N”

You looked around at the faces you knew so well. Your relationships were innocent and friendly, this was a situation you couldn't have imagined ever.

Seungkwan walked over, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Sweetie it's alright if you don't want to I can tell them to leave ”

“N-No, let them stay”

Seungkwan turns towards the boys giving them hope. Followed by you removing your robe showing your glowy skin, prominent collarbones and a bit of cleavage.

“wow fuck” woozi mutters adjusting his position on his chair, manspreading.

“shes beautiful seungkwan” seokmin blushed.

“tell her that yourself, or show it” he smirked while pushing you on bed.

Your boyfriend was the best and always the sweetest but when it came to “bed time” he was a dom demon and fuck did it turn you on.

Seokmin looked deeply at Seungkwan, slightly questioning him through his eyes.

“You heard me, show my slut the love she deserves”

You sat up by the weight of you arms looking up at your boyfriend and then at seokmin who seemed a bit hesitant.

“Huh? Seokmin don't act like you haven't masturbated to the sound of her moans from your dorm”

Heat flushed straight to your face and core. This situation was unfamiliar and you felt guilt for feeling this kind of way by another man but you couldn't help it.

Seokmin sat beside you on the bed turning to pick you up, placing you on his thighs.

“Babygirl you smell so good”

He pushed your hair to the side of your neck, tucking the remaining strands behind your heated ears. He started sucking purple marks on your neck down to your collarbones reciting some breathy moans from you. His hands travelled your figure, resting on your arms as his thumbs rubbed slow circles into them.

He grabbed you by your chin and tilted it slightly down, inches away from eachother.

“I've wanted to mark you up for ages babygirl, thank you for letting me decorate your beautiful skin”

Before you could reply, his tongue was in your mouth fighting for dominance. His taste was sweet and his rhythm was so good. He left you breathless and needy when he pulled away to look at you.

You seemed to have forgotten your surroundings, enjoying every bit of seokmins affection. Seungkwan came over with a slightly red face. Seokmin moved you off his lap and walked back over to his seat, knowing very well seungkwan was about to do something.

“Sweetie you seemed to enjoy that too much, were you trying to make your boyfriend jealous? Isn't this supposed to be 'us time'?”

You gulped and put you head down unaware of what to say or react.

“Slut look at me or at least reply...fuck this I'll make you respond”

He roughly grabbed you and shoved you on to his thick thighs. Your face was towards him while the others got your backside. Your shorts had rode up exposing your ass, making the others react in all sorts of ways.

Joshua and Jeonghan were the quiet type but watching their members get you more and more riled up really got to them. The grunts and low moans made while they pumped themselves on the nearby chairs were sinful.

“Sweetie why don't you ride my thighs like the good slut you are, this can be a warm up. The boys always heard your reaction to this so show them how you ride my killer thighs”

His voice went down an octave and the teasing foreshadowing words made your core throb.

His hands squeezed your ass tightly, followed by a rough spank. The loudest moan rumbled from inside your chest. The members around hardened and watched in awe, muttering praises.

“Let my dirty slut hear your praise. She's so horny and wet for you all. She acted as if this was something she wasn't up for at the start but she's loving this so much. She likes it when others are watching”

You close your eyes tightly to hide your reaction. His hands shifted from your ass, up your thighs to your waist and pulled you in closer to straddle his lap. You moved your hips slightly, brushing up against his large hardened bulge. A loud whine choked from you from the stimulation of his white jeans against your slick sensitive pussy. Seungkwans hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, grabbing at the roots and pulling your head back so he can leave wet kisses on your new exposed skin.

“Looks like my sluts been marked already. Such a whore”

The throbbing between your legs continued as you hardly grinded on his bulge and thigh, pulling his soft hair which got a moan in response. His moans were like alcohol. Beautiful but made you more and more crazy. It made you want to cum there and then on his thighs.

As you listened to his breathy groans you continued to straddle his muscular thighs, everytime you rutted closer towards his bulge. Your chest rose up and down as you got more and more turned on, proving to be a great view to seungkwan. As you grounded yourself down on his thigh he touched your chest and teased soft kisses everywhere he could reach. One harsh movement and you were arching reaching closer, your chest in his face. He swiftly removed your bralette without restricting you of your movement on his thigh. He tensed his thigh making you yelp even more. His eyes caught contact with yours as he lowered to suck at your nipple, flicking his tongue around your sensitive hardened nipples due to the temperature change.

He switched to your other, sucking gently on your nub, biting down refreshing yet another loud moan from your rose lips. Your face was red from embarrassment at how loud you were but you really couldn't help it you were overwhelmed.

“Sweetie don't be shy, everyone here has heard and wanked to your loud moans and screams before”

“He's right princess” Jeonghan muttered up.

Your hips moved faster against his thigh from the pleasure taking over your body, moans exiting your mouth at a rapid pace.

“Baby im”

“Cum on my thigh like the big slut you are”

“Youre so dirty cumming on your boyfriend's jeans” Woozi said in his deep yet amazed voice.

“Cum for your daddy like a goodgirl” Joshua added.

With all the attention, praise and his firm grip holding your movement harder against his thigh, you let out a cry of pleasure as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

“Thats it sweetie, get use to it this won't be your first ”Seungkwan smirks moving you to lie down to come down.

Seungkwans white jeans had a huge wet stain on the thigh area. All the boys looked like they were struggling to keep themselves together. You put your head down again in embarrassment, the stain was huge and soaked through.

One of the boys stood up from the chair quickly and made there way towards you with dominance.

“Fucking whore leaking making such a mess with that sopping pussy of yours”

You gulped loud unable to hide your arousal for his dominant state. The way he shouted at you made you melt.

“Ill have to teach that pussy of yours a lesson and put you in your place”

“P-pease sir”

“its daddy” he exhaled pulling your silk shorts down to you ankles, allowing you to do the rest and kick them off which ended up flying towards seokmin who wasn't complaining.

Woozis eyes trailed down towards your glistening core. He smirked running a finger over your folds collecting your arousal on his long digit. Without warning he suddenly pumped his finger inside you. You were weak and rested your forehead on his shoulders and you gripped onto the sides on his shoulders. He pumped another two fingers inside your pussy. He curled his fingers inside you, a series of moans screamed past your mouth.

“Spread them legs wide whore I want to taste you so bad”

“Daddy please eat me out I'm begging”

Woozi kneeled before your open legs and licked his lips before licking a long stripe up your pussy. He flicked your throbbing bud with his tongue and groaned against your clit.

“Wow fuck you're just as sweet as I imagined”

You threw your head back as his tongue dived within your folds licking up all your leaking wetness, sucking on your clit harshly. Your legs started to shake from the sensitive contact.

“So wet for me who makes you feel so good whore?”

“d-daddy..” you struggle to speak out as he licked up and down your cunt.

You tried grinding into his tongue to create more friction and that is when he pulled back leaving you empty. Right when your were about to reach the edge he stopped.

“Whore you stained your boyfriend's jeans so I'm not letting you cum just yet.”

You moaned in frustration praising him trying to get him to fulfill your needs and to be touched.

“Daddy please I'll be good I promise”

“You promise”

“Yes I swear”

“Thats a good whore now where was i”

He pushed three fingers inside you with ease because of how wet you had been. He pounded his fingers rapidly in and out of you, curling his fingers slightly hitting the spot that made you moan out heavenly sounds for the others. You came hard on his fingers, your slickness covering his fingers. Once he let you ride out your orgasm he removed his fingers and sucked them infront of you. Your core was absolutely ruined. It was pulsating frantically. He pulled you in for a kiss and you could taste yourself off his lips.

“Whore taste good doesn't she?” he whispers

“My sweetie knows how to put on a show” Seungkwan speaks out taking a look at the other members who seemed to have enjoyed the viewing alot, proof being the various moans and unzipped pants.

“Now sweetie since you're so wet and horny I think you deserve some more from me”

“Seungkwan please”

“Say it sweetie”

“Please I want you to fuck me with you cock and fill me up with your cum please”

“Since you've been so good I suppose I can, boys, prepare yourself, you've yet to hear her most beautiful sounds.”

You lie on your back on the bed, legs ready to be taken by seungkwan and thrown over his shoulders. You didn't need any warming up.

He put his tip and your entrance, his tip hitting your clit making you moan yet again. He inches into you and bottomed out, a moan tearing through your throat as you adjusted to the stretch. His dick was big and though your were his girlfriend you still weren't use to his size. After a few moments he started moving, speeding up his hips. He watched your wet pussy swallow up his whole dick with a smirk plastered on his face. Every time his dick disappeared fully the loudest pleasurable moans emerged from you. You held onto the back of your thighs as seungkwan pounded into you, fast and hitting the right spot. He placed one of your legs down and kept one thrown over his shoulder. He slowly lifted you a little and pounded into you hitting the gspot consecutively without fail. Bliss overtook your body.

“Joshua, Jeonghan come over here I know you've been wanting to get your dick rubbed”

Without hesitation they made their way over and sat on the bed, one on each side of you.

“Y/N flip and cock your ass up for me for me like a good girl”

“Yes Seungkwan”

“And you've got two hands, put them to use sweetie”

You gasp when seungkwan enters you again, showing no mercy and pounding your pussy into oblivion.

You look at joshua and jeonghan and bit your lip. They're both infront of you with their erect cocks standing, red and leaking precum. You use your thumb to smoother their precum from their sensitive tips down their length to make some lubrication. You work your hands on their cocks and slowly pumped into a faster speed making them groan and moan loudly. Jeonghan let out the most beautiful moans, they were so high and desperate yet he sounded so content.

“Princess fuck yes”

“Baby faster” Joshua growled throwing his head back, his adams apple emerging from his neck. He looked so hot. Both of them did. And they were both in your hands. You were in control of their moans and pleasure and it made you feel so good. Seungkwan continued moving in out of you switching up the rhythm.

“Seokmin over now” Seungkwan ordered.

Seokmin got up from his seat zipping up his jeans from previous actions.

“Theres no need to zip that up, sit infront of my sweetie, she'll take care of that mountain, isn't that right sweetie?”

Seungkwan spanks your ass leaving his red hand marks on your cheeks making you moans again.

“Y/N please suck me dry, you don't understand how flustered I got when I found out you were the new stylist in pledis. For our fear comeback when you tailored my pants, your head was down at cock level and I wanted you so bad”

You leave kisses on seokmins chest, becoming familiar with the earlier sexual encounter with seokmin. Everything about Seokmin was so endearing and hot. Your core started throbbing and pulsating. The tightness of your walls on seungkwans girthy cock made him groan in pleasure.

“Fuck Seokmin you're making my girl so tight”

You blush and look up innocently at Seokmins eyes. That fucking killed him. Such dirty actions he'd seen you do all night and you give him puppy eyes when you're down beside his cock your lips he admired so much about to touch his tip.

“I knew don't worry. The bulge in your pants in the performances right after me fitting you shows how you felt”

You swipe your tongue over his slit and took as much of his big member as you could into your mouth, the rest you pumped with your hands. Seokmin pulled on your hair from the vibrations of you moaning on his cock. Seungkwan fastened his pace making you moan around his cock even more. You sucked on his head and hollowed your cheeks as you bopped your head up and down his length.

You started whining as you started reaching your high from the endless attack on your pussy but also the breathy groans from seokmins pleasure and the others moans who watched. You let out a strangled moan and clench around seungkwans huge cock. All of this was becoming too much for seokmin too, his hips started shaking as he finally released his seed down your throat.

You swallowed it all and licked at his slit getting every bit of his cum. You came around seungkwan and lay down from exhaustion.

Woozi, jeonghan and Joshua all watched and pumped themselves in sync with the pounding and head bopping, releasing on themselves as they watched the sight unravel.

“Sweetie you did so well”

“Whore how about you come back to mine and we'll record some of your moans for adlibs for the upcoming album”

“Send the adlibs to me for keepsakes” jeonghan sighed out, wiping his cum off his hands. Joshua raises his hand slightly.

“Me too if you don't mind”

You lay on the bed exhausted surrounded by a bunch of sweaty hot guys.

“Sweetie remember when you said you wanted 'us time' earlier, how do you feel about that now”

“Yeah I changed my mind”

[nightwingshero]

12-23 all your Far Cry OCs ! 🥰

Thank you, love!!! This may have gotten a bit long...I have a lot of OCs for Far Cry, don’t @ me. 

12. What OCs would have a chugging competition?

That’s an excellent question, and I think a better one would be who wouldn’t. Rowan, Grayson, Wren, Jane, and Randy are definitely the top contenders for that. Ivy would be a bit taken aback by it, and then politely decline. Whitney and Quinn...Whit would silently judge while also wishing that was her. Quinn is...he’s on the fence, I think that depends. Because he likes rooting for it, watching it, and laughing at them making fools of themselves, but if challenged, he won’t hesitate, and I think Mel would be in the same boat, but she’s less likely to rise to the challenge...she’s too uh...laid back to really feel competitive. Now, as for the kids go, it would be between Emmett, Freya, and Harper. It would start as a back and forth between Emmett and Freya, which would just pull Harper in with it as Braxton and Ana watch warily and Emmie is laughing her ass off. 

13. What OCs would arm wrestle? Who would win?

Randy, Wren, Rowan, Jane, and Quinn. Hands down (see what I did there?). Jane would only do it if provoked, in any other situation, she’s rolling her eyes in the corner and calling them idiots. Randy would obviously win, though it’s a good go with Quinn...and Quinn would honestly let Wren win. He’s trying to impress her, you know? Rowan won’t get off that easily, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Girl can hold her own. If it’s the kids, Emmett and Freya, all day long. Freya is just like her mother, and she’s so damn quick to rise to a challenge, and Emmett is a cocky little shit. 

14. Who would jump off the roof into a pool and who would video it?

Okay...this is probably something that’s going down at Whit’s house. And I’m telling you right now, Randy and Grayson are the first to go, quickly (and I mean quickly) followed by Jane, because she’s not going to be showed up by them at all (Grayson said something rile her up). Whitney is freaking the hell out, insisting someone is going to get hurt. Wren is videoing it because there’s no way in hell it’s not going on YouTube. Ro and Mel are actually scoring it. Ivy is trying really hard to ignore it, she got one day off and might have to play doctor anyway. It was Quinn’s idea...he just made it seem like Grayson’s and he’s enjoying the result of it while drinking an ice cold beer (he prefers vodka, but Whit didn’t have that...so she claims). 

15.What OC nicknames everyone?

They all do, honestly. My Scooby Gang are a bunch of just...sarcastic assholes and sweethearts. Grayson and Ivy might be the only ones that don’t. Jane is called Viking Princess most of the time by Wren, and Randy is Lumberjack Steve. Quinn is Blondie from time to time, Wren will call him Hot Shot, too. Randy will call him “Cap” in reference to Captain America (Quinn’s favorite superhero) and with him being a Security Captain. Rowan is playfully dubbed Huntress or Bambi, depending on who you’re talking to. But Jane calls her Robin Hood or just asshole. Grayson is just...Gray. No one really has a nickname for him, except for Quinn, who calls him Speedy from his background (which Randy then tells them the story of Wren nearly driving them off a cliff). Whitney is either Mom (sarcastically, of course), Miss America, Goody Two Shoes, or just Whit. And Whitney just...calls everyone hun, darlin’, sweetheart, sweetie, dear, etc. If she’s feeling extra fiesty, she’ll give an actual sarcastic nickname (she calls Cooper cowboy and lone ranger though). 

16. Who makes the plan, who follows the plan and who knows the plan is going to fail?

Making the plan consists of: Rowan, Quinn, and Randy. Ivy, Whit, and Wren are gonna follow it, and...well, Jane and Gray are gonna say “this is a stupid idea”. I honestly picuture it being that scene from Infinity War. Tony would be Rowan and Randy. Peter Quill would be Quinn. Draxx would be Grayson and Jane, Mantis is Whit and Mel. Wren is Peter Parker, and Ivy is Dr. Strange. Ivy was looking forward in time, watching every scenario in which she dies surrounded by idiots. I mean...this scene is literally just them in New Dawn. 

17. Who brings a surplus amount of silly string to a party?

Wren and Mel. Mostly because it’s probably a prank to ruin Whit’s perfect hair. It takes her forever to get it out due to the hairspray, but it was worth it. Jane recorded it so she can relive the screams. 

18. Who goes crazy over glow sticks?

Wren, Mel, and Randy! They love them. When they get wasted or high, they do this (its at 3:20, but seriously...watch it...because there isn’t a Brendon Urie vine that doesn’t embody one of my OCs...plus, he’s hilarious). But I could see them doing some sort of glow stick party. 

19. What is your OCs favourite game to play together?

Monopoly (Jane and Quinn are scary good at it), Just Dance, Cards Against Humanity, and Heads Up. Most of them end up in hilarious fights and yelling/laughing together...because they drink when they play. 

20. What OC has no directional compass yet still leads the group?

W H I T N E Y. Listen, I could literally hear the whole fucking group just collectively groan. She will swear she knows where she’s going and pretty much takes charge, even though she has no clue. But they follow anyway...so who’s really at fault here?

21. Who would pose beside a garbage can to take a picture to caption it ‘me’ later?

Wren, Grayson, and Randy. They would laugh while doing it, but Whitney would text back or show up at their house like “Sweetie, are you okay?” with cookies or some shit. Rowan is sure of herself and Mel is at peace with who she is. Quinn, Whit, Ivy, and Jane love themselves too much for that. 

22. What poses do the squad like to do when taking a group photo?

Oh. My. GODDDDD. Listen, they’re always doing stupid shit, even if Whit is demanding something serious. Whit will smile with Ivy while the others are doing bunny ears, carrying each other, climbing on each other, or doing other stupid shit. Lots of kisses on the cheek, piggy back rides, “sexy” poses, and just...they never take it seriously. Whit has one (1) good photo. 

23. What concert would your OCs all go to together and why that concert?

Arctic Monkeys, Queen, Lorde, or Taylor Swift, but it’ll most likely be Queen or Taylor Swift. Grayson has a huge crush on Adam Lambert, and who doesn’t love the music? And Randy knows all the words to Shake It Off and You Need to Calm Down is the group’s like....unspoken song...so...yeah, they’re going.

[duker42]

First,, I’m obsessed with you work and you’re amazing🤩I’m in love😍I was wondering if you could do a NSFW alphabet headcannon for our beloved Levi heicho? Also ,, what are some good Levi headcannon/fanfic blogs out there?

Thank you!!!! I really appreciate that. Some great blogs that I have run across are: @shewolfofficial @dirtylevi @attackonleviheichou @dreamss-of-boston @ackerfiction @phen0l @sexuallylevi

There are other great blogs out there I am sure, but these are a few that stick out in my mind!

NSFW Alphabet for Levi Ackerman:

A-Aftercare: Aftercare depends on the type of sexual session you had. If it’s particularly rough or sensual, he will be attentive and loving while you are cleaning up. If it’s quickie, expect a slap on the ass after finishing washing as he saunters out to finish that damn paperwork on his desk.

B-Body Part: Levi is an ass man. He loves the way the uniform makes your ass look so mouthwateringly round. Plus its easy access for a quick squeeze when he’s feeling cheeky. He loves watching it jiggle while he is pounding into you from behind.

C-Cum: Cum isn’t his favorite thing in the world, but he isn’t squeamish about it either. He’s a man who doesn’t mind getting dirty if the situation calls for it and sex is definitely an area where he’s willing to get filthy. He preferes to cum in you, but if thats not possible, your mouth or all over your ass is a nice second choice. He also love when you cum on him, seeing your thick cream on his cock is an incredible turn on for him and makes him go harder.

D-Dirty Talk: Levi is the fucking KING of dirty talk. It doesn’t happen every time, but when he’s the mood, that man can make you cum just by murmuring dirty things in your ear as he is fucking you. “You love the way my cock stretches your little pussy, don’t you?” “Your pussy was made for my cock.” “I want you scream my name, let the entire building know who’s fucking you.” *Sigh*

E-Experiment: Levi is a pretty laid back guy when it comes to sex. He has seen a lot of shit over the years and the sexual proclivities of the human race is one of them. If there is something you want to try, just ask. He will not judge and let you know if its a Hard Limit or not. If it’s not, he’s down to try almost anything once.

F-Favorite Position: I am going to have to go with the two most popular. Doggie and Missionary. Doggie is for the leverage, watching your ass jiggle, and the satisfaction of watching his cock disappear into your pussy. Missionary is more for the sensual side of Levi. Holding you close and watching your expressions as he fills you and brings you over the edge. There is a lot of kissing in this position and more emotions seen in those expressive eyes of his.

G-Goofy: He’s not very goofy in bed. It’s a serious time for him, wether its blowing off steam from the stress of your lives or making sure you know how he feels about you, sex isn’t the time for jokes. Now, he will make a comment if there is a particularly loud noise emitted or something unusual happens. But he’s not going to normally crack jokes when he’s inside you.

H-Hair: Trimming all the way! Levi preferes to keep himself manscaped regularly. Not only for the hygiene aspect of it, but for you as well. He knows he enjoys it better when you are neatly trimmed or shaved so why wouldn’t he give you the same consideration? Plus there’s the added bonus of being able to get a centimeter more of his cock into you if you’re both trimmed.

I-Intimacy: We all know that Levi is a man of fewer words than most, and most times they are sarcastic and rude. However when it comes to showing you how he feels in bed, he’s most expressive through touch and his eyes. Those ashen orbs fill with unspoken words as he kisses you or touches you. Every move he makes during this time is for your pleasure as he worships your body with his own.

J-Jack Off: Levi would rather wait than jack off. You feel better than his hand any day of the week. Plus with all the stress he’s under, there’s little time for that. If he does get too needy, he will rub one out in the shower, thinking of you the entire time.

K-Kink: Dirty talk and spanking are his two go-to kinks. Those are the ones that get put into use the most often, but he also enjoys tying you up and making you beg for him to let you cum as he edges you relentlessly.

L-Location: He will always prefer the safety of the bedroom. There would only be an interruption in the case of a major emergency and he’s free to take his time. Plus the bathroom through the next door for easy clean up. However, if he’s feeling frisky, he will pull your ass into the nearest closet and fuck you hard and walk out with a little smirk on his face while telling you to hurry up.

M-Motivation: Watching you do simple things will rile Levi up. It could be as simple as watching your hips sway when you walk down the corridors, or having you execute a perfect move while on the ODM course. The other thing that gets him going is you coming up and whispering in his ear that you want to fuck him. Being bold with words or just coming up and rubbing him with that wicked look on your face will get him in the mood fast.

N-No: Hard Limits are pretty basic for Levi. If it’s especially gross, expect that to be a no from him. No one is peeing on anyone.

O-Oral: Like most men, he loves to receive over giving. He loves when you are on your knees with his cock in your mouth. You look so pretty with those eyes looking up at him. However, he is willing to give as often as you want it. He’s not shy about going down on you. You taste delicious and he loves the way you cum on his face.

P-Pace: He will change it up depending on the mood. He will normally start off slower, make sure that you aren’t uncomfortable before ramping up the speed and power behind his thrusts. However, if you are wanting it rough and fast, hold on, because he’s going to slam himself into you with enough force to take your breath away and just keep hammering into you until you are shaking and crying out his name.

Q-Quickie: Prefers the normal sessions over a quickie, but if he just has to have you or you are short on time, he’s down. He’d rather have a quick fuck than no fuck at all if the situation calls for it.

R-Risk: He’s not one for sex out in public. That’s between you and him. As far as risky sex, you risk your lives for a living, why shouldn’t he be willing with sex? Will only be willing to try it after you have both done extensive research on it and feel comfortable will the idea. Safe words and signals are a must. Risky is one thing, idiotic is another.

S-Stamina: He’s not Humanity’s Strongest for nothing. That Ackerman bloodline is great for the bedroom. Expect him to last at least a good hour or more if you don’t want him to cum too fast. He can speed it up or draw it out depending on his mood and how into it you are. If you are up for more than one round, he’s your guy. Give him 5 minutes and he will be back in the ring to take another swing.

T-Toys: Another one of those things that Levi will just shrug and give a chance. He doesn’t like a cock ring, so don’t even get him to try that shit again. As far as other toys, he will see how much you like it before deciding to use it. He prefers to use his own fingers and tongue to bring you pleasure, but watching you masturbate with a toy is fucking hot in his book.

U-Unfair: This little fucker can be a huge tease. He doesn’t like it when you tease him, but he can edge you for hours with a twinkle in his eye. It’s an ego boost to have you begging for him to fuck you.

V-Volume: Levi isn’t loud at all. The occasional grunt or low moan is the most you will really get out of him. The loudest you’ve ever heard him was when you hadn’t been together in a few weeks because of a mission and you gave him a blow job in his office. He bit down on his knuckle, but still the moan you heard was regular speaking volume.

W-Wild Card: He can be a bit jealous, even when he knows he doesn’t need to be. Not that yandere, serial killer kind of way, but he will glare at those soldiers who haven’t figured out that you are the Captain’s girl yet. Hasn’t thrown you over his shoulder to go fuck you in a fit of jealously yet, but you’re still hoping.

X-X-Ray: Levi is a little bigger that what people would expect for a man of his height. He is 8 inches long but thicker than average. The tips is particularly large and he curves upward just perfectly for slamming against your g-spot.

Y-Yearning: If it weren’t for those damn Titans and the piles of paperwork he had, plus the training schedule with the squad, you would have shit ton more sex than you do. He didn’t get a lot of physical affection in his life until you, and he craves that feeling when you to are connected.

Z-Zzzz: Okay, poor Levi. We all know this boy can’t sleep decently to save his life. But after sex he can doze off faster than he would without it. After cleaning up of course. He still will only get about 3 hours, but with you in his arms and the hazy endorphins from his orgasm still in his system, the nightmares are kept at bay long enough for him to feel refreshed.

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