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#i know it sounds harsh but I am so tired of hearing this
httpkaulitz · 1 day
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could you write a fluff where the reader and Tom get into a fight and then he goes out and late he arrives drunk and she takes care of him? I love your write pookie <3
Drunk
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PAIRINGS: Tom x Female reader
CONTENT: Fluff
SYNOPSIS: You take care of drunk Tom.
WARNINGS: none
You stared at the page of the book without actually reading the words. It had been hours since everything had happened, but the thoughts and memories still continued to run through your mind like a movie. You wanted to say that you weren't sad and that you hadn't cried, but you would be lying.
You and Tom always argued like every couple, and you always made up soon after. But this time was different. You exchanged very harsh words and you were both too hurt to try to understand each other.
Tom had left, slamming the door loudly after looking at you hurt.
You woke up to your cell phone ringing non-stop. Tom wasn't home yet so you decided to go to bed early to avoid any future arguments. You opened your eyes slowly, reached out clumsily to grab your cell phone from the bedside.
"Gustav? Did something happen?" You asked worriedly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked at the clock on the bedside and the red light was flashing 2:27 in the morning. Gustav would never call at this hour.
"Yes... can you open the door for me?" He sighed looking tired.
"I am going." You got out of bed and walked towards the door, stumbling a little on the way because of your sleep. You opened the door and Gustav had Tom leaning on his shoulder.
"My God what happened?" You quickly ran over to him helping him carry Tom to the couch.
"I don't know. He called me and I found him like this. It seems like he spent the day drinking, so the fight must have been for some stupid reason." Gustav said trying to make everything sound less than it really was. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't like the situation at all.
"Hey, you said you weren't going to bring me here." Tom mumbled in a slurred voice. Anyone could see that he was completely drunk.
"You, quiet." You said angrily pointing your finger at Tom's face.
"Don't point fingers at me. You shouldn't even open the door dressed like that." He shouted, blatantly looking at your body, smiling.
You were so worried about the possibility that something serious had happened to your friend that you didn't even bother to change your clothes. The nightgown was a completely short blue dress and showed more than it should. You just rolled your eyes and turned your attention to Gustav.
"Sorry, you didn't need to waste your time bringing this idiot. You could have left him on the street." You said taking Gustav to the door. He looked at you with a warning look even though he knew you weren't serious.
"I know... it's just that I had a very long day, which apparently isn't over." You look at the sofa and see Tom try to get up, grimace in pain and fall back into his seat.
"Do you need help with him?" Gustav asked worriedly.
"No, you've already helped enough." You almost laughed at your friend's relieved expression. "You can take his car, you won't walk home because of a drunk." You shouted the last part so Tom could hear and he mumbled a bunch of incomprehensible things making Gustav laugh.
"Thanks, don't be too hard on him. Good night." He hugged you, already heading towards the exit.
"Don't defend him." You complained, moving away from Gustav who laughed in his face. "Good night, be careful on your way home."
You took a deep breath and walked over to the couch. Tom was still the same way you and Gustav had left him, he tried to get up a few times, but gave up when he realized he couldn't do it alone.
"Let's go." You said more to yourself than to Tom. You pulled him by his arms, helping him get up, put one of his arms around your neck and started walking towards the bedroom.
"Okay, just a little more." You whispered with difficulty as you lost your balance and hit one of the walls in the hallway.
When you arrived in the room, you let go of Tom, who fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. He leaned up trying to kiss you but you pulled away.
"Stop it, Tom." You said pushing him away.
Tom held you against him until you stopped trying to get away. "You look really pretty dressed like that." He said, lowering one of the straps of the nightgown and letting it hang on your shoulder.
"And you're really drunk." You looked at Tom, he had the same wolfish smile, but his mouth was swollen and a large purple spot was starting to form in the corner. You let go of his arms, finally managing to stand.
''You would look prettier without any clothes on.'' Tom whispered, sitting up and trying to grab you by the waist.
''Tom, stop it. Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.'' You pushed his hands away, taking a deep breath. You were still upset about the fight earlier, but there was no point talking about it now.
''That's what I'm talking about.'' He said, laughing and tugging at the hem of his nightgown.
You rolled your eyes, slapping Tom's hand away. You rested your knee on the mattress and pulled Tom's shirt over his head.
''Don't even think about sleeping until I'm done.'' You mumbled, noticing his sleepy state.
''I'm not sleepy.'' He replied, with a drunken wave.
You unbuckled his belt with a quick movement. ''You're good at that.'' He said smiling, Tom raised his head to look at you who was completely serious and focused on your work.
''Shut up.'' You said irritably, unbuttoning his jeans and moving them down his legs. You threw it to the ground and stood with your hands on your hips, breathing heavily.
''Come on.'' You pulled his hands trying to lift him up.
''Where are we going?'' He asked confused.
'No way you're going to sleep next to me stinking of alcohol.'' Tom just grumbled in response without wanting to get out of bed.
''Come on, Tom.'' You sighed, dragging him to the bathroom.
He grumbled again, doing nothing to help. In the best case scenario, he ended up putting more weight on you.
''Stay here, I'll turn on the shower.'' You said, placing Tom on the toilet.
You turned on the shower, changed it from hot to cold and waited for the water to change temperature. You felt Tom wrap his arms around your waist and press your body against his.
''Can't you stay quiet even when you're falling down drunk?'' You asked, not expecting an answer.
''Are you still mad at me?'' Tom asked when you moved his arms away from your waist.
''You hate me now.'' Tom said in his drunken state pouting.
''I'm sure I don't hate you.'' You said laughing and turning to look at Tom, he had taken off his underwear and was now completely naked. You quickly looked up at Tom's face, which was smiling smugly.
''Don't pretend you don't like what you see.'' He smiled, naughty. You smiled and pushed Tom under the shower.
He grunted when he felt the cold water and tried to get out, but you pushed him back under the water.
''It's cold.'' He complained.
''This will help with your drunkenness, and you'll thank me tomorrow.'' After a while more listening to Tom complain about the cold water, and other things that you didn't understand because he spoke so quietly. You turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.
''I'm not sleepy.'' Tom complained as you put him in bed and covered him with the duvet.
''Tom please, it's early in the morning and today was very stressful, just be quiet, okay?'' You asked softly, walking away towards the hallway, but Tom held your hand and pulled you back.
''Will you sleep here with me?'' He asked sleepily, already snuggling into the soft covers. There were few times that you slept apart after a fight.
''Do you think I would not sleeping in my comfortable bed because of you?'' You raised an eyebrow seeing Tom smile at your sarcastic tone.
''Smart girl.'' He whispered letting go of your hand.
You walked to the living room to get your cell phone, Gustav had left messages saying he had arrived home safe.
You looked at the time on your cell phone screen 03:15am. You was exhausted, confused and stressed. You walked back to the room and found Tom already asleep. His body was sprawled out on the bed, his head tilted to the side and from the messy state of the bed you knew he had moved a lot until he found a comfortable position.
The duvet had come down leaving his body exposed, the light coming in through the window was enough for you to enjoy the view of his subtle and completely perfect muscles. You felt your face heat up and you knew you were blushing, when your eyes traveled further down his torso, following the trail, eagerly, as if it were a map that would lead you to the pot of gold.
''Stop it, you're still mad at him.'' You whispered to yourself pushing away your lewd thoughts. You put the cell phone on the bed, and pulled the blanket covering Tom's body.
As soon as you lay down next to him, he brought his body closer to yours, hugging you around your waist. You smiled as you watched him sleep peacefully. You guys would be fine.
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thrift-store-tales · 2 years
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PSA: If you’re donating things to a nonprofit, please ask yourself:
Do any of the things I’m dropping off belong in the trash?
Contrary to popular belief, people whose houses have burned to the ground deserve to have nice things too and it’s kinda shitty to say things like “if they have nothing, they’ll appreciate anything.” It’s super dehumanizing to receive a stained shirt with holes in it when you’ve just lost all your possessions. So please get rid of that harmful mentality if that’s something you’ve been led to believe. Homeless people are not animals, they’re people. Treat them with respect and dignity.
If your old things you want to get rid of are stained or ripped, do not donate them unless it’s to a recycling center.
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the-punforgiven · 2 years
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It's like 9am I wasn't expecting a second sleepless night in a row
#I've gone through a huge emotional rollercoaster already earlier in the night I'm off the ride and stable now#I'm just really REALLY tired and numb listening to music I don't like#and wanting to draw something far out of my comfort zone that I know I'll hate for some reason#I am always at my worst when I'm listening to uh#I don't know what this music even is it's like super harsh very crunchy edm and I don't like it#it feels like some shit you'd hear at a cybergoth rave#while desperately searching for the exit because you realized most of the attendees are vampires who just caught on that you aren't one#you're feeling the effects of something you took earlier and it's hitting you hard#though you got them off a vampire so there's a good chance you'll be feeling the effects of prion disease after the high wears down#the exits are locked and your vision is faded#you see the long batlike shadows of the attendees closing in#your vision's going dark and the attendees look like silhouettes with the loud flashing lights behind them#the music's slurring in your ears and you're so dizzy you can barely stand#you head throbs and your heart beats to the rhythm of the music that consumes all other sound#the incoherent mass of silhouetted bodies creeps closer and you can smell the blood in the air#their features are so blurred and distorted by the lights the music and your own shitty vision you can barely tell what you're looking at#yet somehow#their teeth are crystal clear#this song sucks and I feel actually physically sick#not sure if thats from the song though lmao#Pun's text Posts
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Idolification.
Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”
“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”
Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.
Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”
At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”
She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”
“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”
“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”
Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”
“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”
Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”
Fuck.
If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.
“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”
You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”
“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”
“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”
Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”
His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  
“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”
~
“Room for one more?”
She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.
The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.
“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”
“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”
Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”
“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”
Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”
You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”
This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
~
It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.
It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.
It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.
“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”
A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”
“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”
“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”
“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”
“That’s not—”
“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”
For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.
He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.
When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.
~
“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”
You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”
“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”
Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”
This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”
You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”
She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”
You swallowed dryly. “Never.”
“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”
“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”
“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”
She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”
And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.
Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.
The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.
“Yuuji?”
~
The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.
It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.
He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”
He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”
A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.
And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.
“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”
You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”
You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”
How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—
No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”
“Yuuji, this isn’t—”
He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”
A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.
With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.
“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”
He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.
You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—
 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”
A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”
You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.
He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.
It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.
“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”
His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”
His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.
Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.
A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
Text
Crimes and Punishments Part 1: Ra's
Masterpost
There’s a phone on a special shelf in the Batcave near the Batcomputer. This particular phone has been set aside as Emergency Only since an incident involving Bruce’s sons a few months ago. No one has touched it since. 
The entire situation was full of way too many unknown variables for Bruce’s liking. He spent a lot of time unnecessarily stressed about that phone. But it never rang, and they never used it. Until one day, when a loud ringing could be heard throughout the Batcave.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and started looking around. There was a specific moment, when everyone realized which phone was ringing. A moment of stillness. Then they all rushed for it at once. None of the boys wanted someone the caller had never met to pick up, but Bruce was curious, and he was fast. Nightwing however, was also fast and a lot closer. 
“Hello?” Nightwing asked as he answered the call. Everyone else quickly gathered around him, and as upset that Bruce was that he wasn’t on the phone, everyone understood not to interrupt.
“Bats?” Danny responded carefully.
“This is Nightwing.”
“Oh, Nightwing. Good to hear from you, hope you’re doing well. Unfortunately, this is a business call regarding the information I was given by Red Robin and Robin when you were here. Are they available for follow up?”
“I’ll put you on speaker.” Nightwing gave Bruce a look, trying to ward off any interrogations and put the call on speaker. “Everyone is here.”
“Hi, everyone!” Danny called out cheerfully. "Red Robin and Robin, you remember when you were in my realm you gave me some information about illegal activity that I had to follow up on, as well as the locations to check out?”
They both responded in the affirmative.
“Wonderful, I wanted to let you know that the situation has been taken care of.” Danny’s voice turns very official. “As of now, my teams have cleared all known locations of the illegal substance to avoid any more contamination. In the matter of one Ra’s Al Ghul, on the basis of knowingly, purposefully, and repeatedly storing and using the illegal contraband, he has been sentenced to imprisonment in the Nightmare Dimension. Once his sentence has been served, he will be released and will be able to make a home in one of my realms if he so chooses. However, we have determined that he will be unable to return to his original dimension, as the damage he has made to your world has already been too great. Now, speaking of the damage to your world."
“As it turns out, your dimension has had a great many interdimensional leaks, the amount of which I also had to look into.” Danny sounds tired and annoyed now. “A specialist of mine, Clockwork, has informed me of a great many breaches made by a small group of people. He is pushing for a very harsh sentence, your citizens have caused him a great deal of trouble and repeatedly broken the law in regards to his domain. I need to look into this further and was hoping to receive some assistance in organizing a meeting with these people, in order to determine fault, and possible repercussions or sentencing depending on the severity of their crimes.”
There is a pause, and no one says anything for a short moment as they hear Danny take a breath.
“I am unsure of the necessary authorities I should speak to regarding people of your world breaking the laws of mine.” Danny sounds so tired.
“We can help.” Red Robin spoke. “Do you know who these people are and where they are located?”
“Not exactly. They are in America, a few different places, but they can and do travel. Are you familiar with the speedsters on your planet? There should be three of them.”
They exchange looks. “Yes we are familiar. We can set up a meeting with them.”
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jilixthinker · 4 months
Text
sweet nothings
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=͟͟͞♡ bang chan × fem!reader
=͟͟͞♡ collared channie
word count: 950 words
content warning: explicit sexual content, sub!chan, established relationship, mommy kink, edging, cock play, ass slapping, dacryphilia
a/c: @straykeedz asks (kinda) and I deliver, mwah.
=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!
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"What's going on Channie? Too much already?"
Chan looks like a wet mess while you caress his sweaty cheek. He is on the verge of tears, sweet whimpers falling out from his parted lips. He is been rutting against your stomach for more than one hour now, straddling your lap and grinding his naked body with growing impatience.
His swollen cock is gradually wetting your pants underneath, red and oversensitive after being denied of his orgasm for so long. He is wearing nothing but his black cat ears and the collar he used for the fansign. The letters forming "Chris" are shiny under your gaze.
Chan doesn't answer to your question, but his face is a flushed mask and you know he heard you. You coo condescendingly at his silence.
"Too dumb to answer me, honey? You are so sweet."
Chan keeps rubbing himself in small circles, quickly puffing air out of his opened mouth. His tongue lolls out of his lips and a dribble of saliva falls from the tip of it, leaking on his aching cock.
"S' tired m-mommy."
Your bring your arm to circle his hips and your hand caresses the small of his back. Chan whimpers and his puffy cockhead gets caught on the fabric of your sweats.
"But I'm not done playing with you, baby."
Chan cries a little when your hand rests on the soft fat of his buttcheek before hitting his skin with a loud smack. As soon as he feels the slight pain, he rolls his hips and spurts some more precum on you.
"Ah... b-but I've been good. Uh, uh, I've been good f-for you. I wan' cum."
You slap his butt again, he lets out the sweetest sound, cock twitching for the slight pain.
"I don't think so Channie. Not yet. You are still talking, uh? That means you are still with me. You know what I want from my baby boy, right?"
You look up and he is just the prettiest, all spread out and submissive for you. His face is a mess, eyes glossy and lips all bruised and red. His legs tremble every time he delivers a shallow thrust over you.
"Y-yes... I-I don't know, I jus' want to- uh."
You wrap your free hand around his cock and you squeeze it. It's not too harsh, but it's enough to finally make him cry. The tears wet his cheeks and he keen loudly at the feeling.
You smile and you scoot forward to place a tiny peck on his neck, just above his collar. You start a lazy rhythm, stopping just to stimulate his spongy head, all red and swollen. Chan soft sobs make you feel lightheaded and you slide your thumb against his slit. Chan's thighs shake and he nearly screams.
"You know why I gave you this pretty choker to wear in front of all those people, Channie? All tight and with your name on it?" you ask, sliding your left fingers around said collar and grabbing it firmly. "You know why mommy did it?" You wrap your index and thumb on the material and you suddenly pull, Chan's neck harshly moved forward.
Chan is just babbling at this point, head empty of thoughts but full of pleasure for being toyed like this by you. As if he is just yours. As if you own him.
"I did it so everyone could see that you are mine. Just mine to use. My pretty toy." You pull the choker more and he lets out a painful sigh at the movement. "And for you to remember your own name after I am done using you."
Your words are harsh, but your tone is sickengly sweet while you start to circle fastly your wrist around his tip, and obscene squelching noises fill the room.
"And I guess it's working, uh? Can't hear you talking anymore."
Chan's strenght reaches his final point and he finally gives up, falling on your body. He squishes his face on the crook of your neck and his warm tears roll on your shoulder while you keep rubbing the palm of your hand against the head of his cock, making him mewl and squirm. He cannot think anymore, he just feels sticky pleasure and nothing else.
"That's right. That's it. My sweet boy is gonna give me all of his cum, isn't he? You're gonna give it to me because it's mine. Every drop is mine, like everything of you have."
With the hand in between his legs you finally pump his cock fast and hard, feeling him getting painfully rigid between your finger. The filthy noise of his balls slapping against his own skin with every stroke fills the room.
"C'mon, baby boy. You can cum, you have been so good for mommy. Let go, sweet thing. Cum on me."
You turn your face and you kiss his cheek lovingly. Chan hiccups and you give him one last stroke, rubbing your thumb just under the cockhead, where the spongy tip meet his frenulum. And that's how he cums. Warm spurts of cum covering all your hand, hot and creamy, while he finally breathes all of the pleasure out of himself.
"That's my baby. There you go. Always so perfect for me, so sweet. I love you. You did so well."
Chan hums and you bring your hand to stroke gently his hair, combing his sweaty locks and hugging him tight. Chan snuggles against your chest, still panting a little and nuzzling his head on your breasts.
"B-been good?" He murmurs, voice low and tired.
"Been so good, Channie." You kiss the top of his head, whispering sweet nothing until his body relaxes against yours.
His shiny collar is so pretty on him, you think. Good for him you bought him another one.
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©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.
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mirkoluvs · 11 months
Text
★ GETTING INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH MHA CHARACTERS (PT. 2)
characters: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki
genre: comfort !!
notes: find part 1 here !! i’ve been busy with stuff, sorry for not getting this out sooner!
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izuku midoriya
- a day had passed since he flipped out at you
- he knew he messed up but you were letting him know he messed up.
- every time he texted you he’d always end up being left on read or delivered.
- even at school when he tried to come up to you, you’d always end up running towards somebody else and joining into a conversation with them.
- he wasn’t going to give up until he finally talked to you and figured things out though
- which is how he ended up in front of your dorm room door at 9 pm at night.
izuku let out a nervous exhale before raising his fist to knock on your door. fighting his nerves, he shook his head and hit his fist against it gently. “coming!”, you chirped, pushing yourself out from your desk to answer the door. a faint smile arose on his face at the sound of your positive voice, but quickly got washed away by nerves once he saw the door begin to open. when you opened the door and saw izuku there, you rolled your eyes, beginning to shut the door, but you were quickly stopped by izuku shoving his foot into the space between the door, slipping his hand in as well so he had a hold on the door. “y/n, please talk to me”, he muttered, trying to look you in the eyes. “hasn’t enough been said? what happened to you and your “limits”?”, you sarcastically asked, putting emphasis on the limits part. he sighed, looking down at the ground. “listen, please. i really, really didn’t mean all of that. i was just so overwhelmed and exhausted but i know that doesn’t excuse me snapping on you like that. i don’t know where i’d be without you watching over me all the time”, he spoke, his voice was passionate and somewhat shaky. “i love you so much, y/n. i wouldn’t be where i am without you, and i’m so, so sorry for taking that all out on you”, he finished. only hearing silence back from you, he got nervous. slowly looking up, he was faced with the sight of you with tears glistening in your eyes. his eyes widened as he panicked. “oh no… i’m sorry, i’m sorry! was it something i said? shit-“, “no- no, you’re fine, zuku. this is perfect, actually. thank you”, you cut him off, a small tear falling down your face as you quickly wiped it away. izuku sighed as he pushed the door out of the way and pulled you into a hug. “i love you so much and i’m so sorry”, he told you again, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “it’s okay, i love you too”, you sighed, snuggling into his hold. “i thought you were gonna break up with me for a second…”, he confessed. you let out a laugh at this, causing him to laugh a bit as well. “i’d have to go crazy to break up with you”.
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katsuki bakugo
- yeah… he was losing it 💀
- he expected you to get over the whole situation overnight and things would go back to normal the next day, but it was the complete opposite.
- you ignored him constantly throughout the entire day.
- even when he’d call out your name, you’d act like you didn’t hear anything.
- his final straw was when you tried to walk home without him.
- that’s when he snapped, he was tired of the hard feelings between you two and he couldn’t deal with it anymore, he wanted to fix it.
you felt a hold on your wrist that caused you let out a slight shriek, but you quickly calmed down when seeing who’s touch it was. of course, it was katsuki. “are we gonna talk about this or are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”, he asked, and surprisingly he seemed genuine too. “you made it known what place this relationship has in your life, i really don’t see what else there is to talk about”, you answered, your voice raw and harsh. he hated this side of you, and he hated being the reason for it. “i don’t- can you just listen to me?”, he somewhat begged, his voice quickly descending from annoyance to calmness. your eyes somewhat widened at his urgency. it wasn’t often that you saw him be so vulnerable in a sense, honestly you don’t ever recall seeing him like this. “i’m listening”, you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him, waiting to hear what he could possibly say. you had a hard time believing that he was actually about to take accountability for everything because based on previous events, he didn’t seem like the type to do so, ever. “ok… i know i fucked up. i’m not gonna stand here like a moron and act like there was a good reason for forgetting our anniversary because there wasn’t. i was just caught up with all my training that it slipped my mind, but i know that doesn’t make up for shit. and all those things i said last night, i didn’t mean it. any of it, i was being fuckin’ careless with my words. it wasn’t “just some anniversary”, it’s a big ass milestone, i know that and i wanna make it up to you. i treated you like straight shit and i regret it so, so bad. i… i’m sorry”, he spoke firmly, making sure you knew his words were genuine, and you definitely did. your eyes were blown open, shocked at the speech he just gave. you never thought you’d ever see him so apologetic or ever hear him say things like these. you could feel tears pricking your eyes, but you quickly pushed them away, letting out a soft giggle. he raised an eyebrow but quickly lost his composure when you jumped into his arms, holding onto him tightly. “t-thank you katsuki. this means the world to me, seriously. i forgive you”, you sniffled, hiding your face in his neck. he let out a chuckle, hugging you back. “yeah, yeah. and i’m serious ‘bout what i said, im gonna take my sweet girl on a proper anniversary date, alright?”, he smirked, rubbing your back. “yeah, that sounds perfect”.
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shoto todoroki
- the difference between shoto and the other two is that he didn’t even wait till the next day to talk to you 😭
- he wanted to make things right between you two and fast, you knew how much he hated ending things on a bad note between you two.
- he made his way to your dorm, determined to gain your forgiveness
- it was when when he got to your dorm and heard sniffling from the outside, his heart ached. he knew how bad he messed up.
leaning against the door separating you from him, he heard soft sobs and sniffles, causing his heart to ache a bit. he never wanted to be the one responsible for your tears and sadness. he was meant to be the person to take that all away from you, but yet here he was, being the reason you were crying alone in a dark room late at night. he gently knocked against the door, and once he did the noises behind the door came to an immediate stop. “y/n, it’s me… can we talk?”, he asked, his fist still on the door as he waited for an answer. a few seconds went by, nothing. he knew you were in there, so he figured you were either ignoring him or just didn’t want to face him. “i know you’re in there, but i understand if you don’t want to talk to me right now… i’ll still say what i have to say anyway”, he started, clearing his throat. on the other side of the door, you were scooting closer to the door, wanting to hear what he had to say. you weren’t going to open the door, you couldn’t face him with how much of a mess you were in. you didn’t want him to see you in such a weak state because of him. “i’m so sorry for what i said earlier. i didn’t mean any of it. my father gave me a hard time when i visited and natsuo was also pushing it with him, it was just a mess. that’s why i was so upset, but that doesn’t matter anymore. i should’ve talked to you instead of holding it all in. it’s like you said, if i keep holding in all my problems, i’ll burst, and that’s what happened. you didn’t deserve that at all, and i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean any of it”, he confessed. he waited a couple moments, praying that you’d respond. when he heard nothing, he rested his forehead against the door, sighing. “i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay”, he muttered. little did he know on the other side of the door, you were tearing up all over again. you quickly stood up, unlocking the door and whipping it open as you jumped into his arms. he was startled but quickly wrapped his arms around you, sighing with relief. “i love you, sho… it’s all fine now, i forgive you”, you told him, your voice a bit shaky as you smiled, hiding you face in his neck. “i love you so much more”, he muttered. he took you out of his arms for a moment, taking your face into his hands. he let out a sad sigh at your bloodshot eyes and red nose, feeling so guilty. “i’m sorry, so sorry my love”, he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and then your forehead. “it’s alright now, just promise me you’ll talk to me from now on, ‘kay?”, “i promise”.
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© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
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chelseeebe · 4 months
Text
there’s a honey
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title based on there’s a honey - pale waves
i would give you my body but am i sure that you want me?
the one where eddie’s probably in love with you and yet you can’t even be seen in public with him.
kinda really angsty and sad i’m sorry
18+. mdni. smut. r is kinda very mean to poor eds here, maybe there’s a ltitle redemption/hope at the end.. who knows. modern au i guess.
eddie’s not supposed to be doing this, your number had been deleted and he knows he should’ve just let it ring out.
but he’d recognised those last three digits and hadn’t be able to help himself. at least this time he’d let it ring out a couple of times before picking up.
and now here he was, hand fisting your shirt, pulling it tight around your waist as he slams his hips against your doughy ass, the bed frame matching his pace as it slams against the wall.
he felt terrible.
chrissy was probably somewhere across campus waiting for him to text back while he was here, balls deep in the girl he’d sworn off last week.
they weren’t together, he’s not even sure if they’re talking but he knew he at least liked her. thought she was cute and not mean to him, but truthfully, she’s not you. she’s never going to be you.
and he’s not stupid enough to think that while you’re still in his life, they could ever be anything.
nobody else that he had ever had sex with had ever felt like this, not that it were a long list of people but still. he thinks that’s what keeps him coming crawling back every single time.
“oh my god,” you whine, arms collapsing underneath you as you fall into the mattress. moving back against him in unison, his palm coming to slap your ass, his handprint lingering.
he takes that as a sign to keep going, slamming into you with such ferocity that the sound echoes through the tiny room. the wooden bed frame close to smashing through the drywall.
“fuck,” he grunts, keeping his grip tight on your shirt, “you feel so fucking good,” unable to contain his babbles. breath becoming laboured as you squeeze around him.
your noises are muffled, face pressed into the blanket as you incoherently mumble what he thinks is his name. he can tell you’re close just by the way you’re breathing. he’s had years of experience, learnt every trick in the book to get you there before he was.
he lands another smack to your ass before pressing his chest to your back, lips sloppily connecting to the back of your neck, pressing you further into his rocking bed.
this new position allows him deeper, nudging himself against your sweet spot, just about able to keep his body hovering over yours.
“shit.. i’m close eds don’t stop,” you whine breathlessly but he already knows that. can feel himself teetering on the edge though it is absolutely necessary that you go first.
“i know.. i know,” he pants, sweaty body melting together as his pace falters, giving you everything he had for the last however many seconds.
your legs begin to shake from underneath him, fist balling his tousled bedsheets while his name falls from your lips like some kind of prayer. eddie will never tire of hearing you whine and cry his name nor the way you clench around him, turning to mush right before his eyes.
it’s the only time you’re ever soft, malleable even.
“that’s it,” he soothes, open mouth pressed to your clammy skin, hand finding your hand and resting his palm on your white knuckles as he topples over.
“fuck.. oh fuck,” he pants, slamming into your quivering cunt, painting your walls with his load, his forehead falling to the skin between your shoulder blades, head spinning a hundred miles an hour.
his arms let out, collapsing on top of you, breathing into the crook of your neck as he regains any sort of semblance of control. he eventually rolls off, outstretched on the tiny slither of bed as you come to.
“jesus,” he weeps, pulling his boxers back up around his waist, the elastic dealing a harsh snap to his skin.
you don’t honour his words with a reply, turning to lean back against the pillow, readjusting your t-shirt. you’d be off soon, he can sense it. not so long ago, you’d maybe stay the night but now it was out of the question.
eddie misses it dearly, maybe it was his fucked up way of playing make-believe for a little while but he missed it nonetheless.
“you going to tina’s party?” he asks from the pillow, eyes narrowed as you shift around.
“yeah i think so,” you shrug, readjusting your bra straps. you’re itching to leave, christ, you won’t even entertain him with a little pillow talk now.
“who’re you going with?”
you sigh, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, not willing to entertain this conversation, “i’m not sure yet,” grabbing your discarded clothes with a haste.
“why don’t we just go together?” he asks, knowing that it’ll probably push you over the edge. he can’t help himself, has never been able to understand why you’re so evasive about your relationship.
“oh my god eddie,” you frown before slipping into the connected bathroom, eddie jumps up from the bed, he’s not gonna let you run away from him again.
“oh so you are still doing this?” eddie asks, following you into the bathroom. he stands in the doorway, watching as you comb your fingers through your hair.
“doing what?”
“pretending that you don’t want me,” he pokes his finger into his temple, “playing your weird fucking game that nobody else understands,” he should stop there, but he doesn’t, “you know, nobody cares if you fuck the freak, we’re in college now, right? you’re the only one that gives a shit,” it’s truly cathartic to get it all out but he knows he’s going to regret it.
“what?” you mutter, speechless. confused why he’d just unloaded all of this onto you seemingly out of nowhere. spinning on your heel to face him, still half-dressed and disheveled.
“you heard me. and you know what? maybe i understood why you didn’t want anyone to know in high school but we’re adults now, you can’t pretend that you’re still worried about people finding out,” the scowl deep-set and unbudging on his lips.
“well i don’t want you eddie,” your face turning sour, jabbing your finger into his chest. “maybe you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that this- the sex, means more than it does, but it doesn’t,” you’re angry now, he’s got you riled up, exactly how he wanted, “i don’t care if you’re a nerd or you play board games or whatever the fuck it is that you do, i just don’t want anyone to know that i’m fucking you.”
your words are bitter, sharp even. slicing through his chest with harsh force. it’s not true, he knows that much. it’s no secret that you do care about that shit, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.
he just can’t understand why you still think anybody else cares. everybody’s too busy to give a shit about outdated cliques and who’s fucking who. it’s your worst-kept secret anyway, by the end of the night you were always hanging off of his arm or pulling him out of whichever bar you’d both coincidentally fallen into.
“you’re a liar,” eddie bites, levelling his eyes to yours, “even you don’t believe that,” he steps closer, brows knitted together as you rage on.
“fuck you,” you spit, deciding to do something he could’ve never expected. smashing your lips to his, it’s a short, passionate kiss, your fingers twisting into his shirt before he pushes you off.
“you’re fucked in the head,” he utters, voice full of sorrow. he pities you, truly. because he knows that if you’d just shake whatever weird self-doubt you still carried, that the two of you could be good together.
you push past him, pulling your jeans on as you grab the rest of your belongings. you’ve done this before, plenty of times. stormed out of here because eddie had asked you a question you didn’t like, only to call him up next weekend begging for his attention.
and he gave it, time and time again.
at your mercy, completely.
it’s the only way he’d known, not enough self-respect to end it completely. and even now, when it feels different, permanent somehow, he knows you’ll be back.
“don’t call me again,” eddie calls out, still lingering in the doorway, “i mean it, delete my number, block me, whatever. just don’t fucking come back,” his arms folded over his chest, like he meant it this time.
“oh i won’t, don’t worry,” turning to face him one last time, eyes full of spite before you disappear into the hallway, not for the last time.
-
unbelievably, the two of you had gone weeks of no-contact.
not even a drunken text to lure him over. nothing. nada. zilch.
eddie had taken that as a sign and asked chrissy if she wanted to go to the party together, at least this time he hadn’t been met with slamming doors and a screaming match.
she’d helped him do his makeup, dotted fake blood around his mouth and made them take a picture for her instagram, an incredibly foreign experience to what he’d ever had with you.
you’d taken selfies before, stupid ones that never saw the light of day. lounging in bed with a joint hanging out of your lips, refusing to ever send them to him incase he did something unthinkable. like post them or dare show anyone.
he shakes his head as if to rid his brain of the memory, trying to zone in on whatever bullshit chrissy’s friend heather was droning on about. he can’t focus, not when he knows you’re here.
see, it’s different when you’re apart. he can compartmentalise you, all of your memories, bury you in the back of his brain and enjoy the time he had with chrissy. it’s like you’ve infected him, weaving your web throughout his mind.
eddie’s phone buzzes in his pocket, pulling him out of the hole he’d burrowed himself into.
those familiar three digits flash across the screen.
bathroom 5 mins
he hasn’t even seen you yet, not that he had been keeping an eye out (he had). he shifts over from where he and chrissy sat squished on the couch, too engrossed in the conversation to have seen his phone.
“i’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” he smiles, guilt running through his veins, “get me another beer?” using that as an excuse to not do anything stupid.
though he knows himself, knows you too and most certainly knows that won’t happen.
“okay,” she grins, none the wiser, making him feel so much worse. her halloween costume was completely different to anything you’d ever worn, opting for a cute little rabbit as opposed to the ridiculously sexy getup you usually had on.
he wonders what you’ve chosen for this year, what low-cut, revealing outfit will have him on his knees, regretting his decisions this time around.
there are hoards of people everywhere, crowding the hall as he tries to shuffle through, not even bothering to knock as he reaches the bathroom.
he slips inside, quickly locking the door behind him as you sit perched against the sink. he was right. you’re in some tiny red dress, horns adorning your head. it’s fitting, really.
“so you didn’t block me,” you state, smug as shit as you lean against the white porcelain.
eddie just rolls his eyes, “is that all you wanted to say?” his hand already clamped around the door handle. it’s an empty threat, he’s not going without a fight, or a kiss, but probably both.
you bite down onto your bottom lip, the red lipstick already slightly smudged, “i missed you,” squeezing the words out, as if they physically hurt to verbalise.
“me? or my dick?”
“can’t it be both?” you smirk, pushing yourself from the sink to near him.
“not if you’re lying about the first one,” keeping his head stood tall, not letting his gaze wander, no matter how much he wanted to peer down your dress.
“i’m not,” placing your hand on his chest, looking at his lips rather than his eyes, “you didn’t miss me?”
you’re so.. so terrible. for him. as a person. whichever.
because he knows that you know he can’t resist. all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and speak softly to him and he’s right back at your feet. eddie wants to be stronger this time. to turn around and march out of here with his dignity still in tact.
but then your hand creeps lower, fingernails dragging down his unbuttoned shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake and he knows he’s fallen for it again.
“of course i did,” he whispers, barely audible because even he doesn’t want to hear it.
“who’s that girl you’re with?” you question, fingers lingering at his belt buckle, gaze flickering between his eyes and his parched lips.
“chrissy,” he feels like a dick for even speaking her name right now.
“she’s cute. she your girlfriend now?” teasing him, drawing a line down to his crotch your finger.
his breath hitches in his throat, wetting his lips, “no.. she’s- uh,” stuttering when your palm meets his dick, already rising in his pants.
“she’s what?” grinning devilishly, hah.
“she’s waiting for me,” he chokes out, just about remembering that he’d asked her for another beer.
“why don’t you run along back to her then?” knowing full well that he wouldn’t. couldn’t even.
the words tangle in his throat, coming out in a squeak, “tell me- tell me that this is just sex and i will,” finding a spurt of courage from somewhere deep within.
you don’t reply, keeping a firm hand on his shifting jeans, “eddie,” more as a warning than anything else.
“or tell me you want me,” swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, “and i’ll stay,” he’s pathetic, begging for an inch of your love, just a little of your heart.
“i can’t.. i can’t be who you want me to be,” you choke, dropping your palm from his zipper, hanging limp as you back away.
“why?” reeking of desperation, pitying himself more than you ever could, “i don’t.. i don’t understand,” the party bounces on outside and eddie can’t think of anything worse than having to go back out there with teary eyes and a tent in his jeans.
you turn away from him, keeping your palms pressed to the porcelain as you stare into the basin, “why don’t you just leave? i’m not going to have this conversation with you again,” point blank refusing to even look at him anymore.
eddie scoffs, swallowing his despair to make one last statement, “you’ve ruined my life,” choking back his cry before swinging the door open, elbowing his way through the crowd.
he pushes past drunk assholes until he reaches the front door, storming out onto the sidewalk, gasping as the fresh air hits his nose. all he wants is to scream, or puke or maybe both. he can feel the eyes of concerned partygoers as he stumbles out onto the street.
everything sounds weird, metallic like ringing through his ears until a familiar voice calls out from the doorway.
“eddie?”
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forever-rogue · 6 months
Text
Spidey Senses
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AN | You never fight with Peter, sometimes things change. Luckily, you love your Spider more than anything❤️
Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 3.5k
Masterlist | Main | Peter
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
You remained silent as you gently wiped away the dried blood from the gash on his shoulder. You hadn’t said much to him since he came home but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him. You always took care of him, that had never been a question. 
When you were done patching him all up, you moved to rinse out the blood from the washcloth under the hot water, watching as the water went from crimson to clear. You felt his eyes on you the entire time. 
“I don’t think you want to hear what I’m thinking, Peter,” you caught his eye in the mirror, a heavy frown on your features that caused him to hang his head with a heavy sigh. You turned to leave the bathroom, but he caught your wrist, fingers wrapping delicately onto your soft skin, “Peter. I just want to go to bed. Please.”
“Tell me,” he insisted softly as you closed your eyes and sighed heavily, “whatever it is, just let me hear it.”
“Fine,” you turned around and faced him; Peter could see that your eyes were already wet with unshed tears, “fine - you want to know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that…you need to slow down, Peter. You keep coming home hurt and it’s only been getting worse lately. I know it’s selfish to say but do you know how hard it is to see you like that? I…you have Miles - New York has Miles. He can handle himself and he can and will ask for help if he needs it. But maybe it’s time to let him do more and you can…just slow down a little. I just want to know that you’re going to come home and that you’re going to come home alive.”
“I am Spider-Man,” his lips were drawn into a harsh line as he narrowed his eyes at you, “I can’t just slow down. And I can’t just leave Miles with everything, he’s still young, and he’s still learning. This is who I am.”
“You were young once too and there was no one around to help,” you reminded him, “and you were okay. He has you and he’s a smart kid; there are things he can handle. I’m not saying that you can’t or shouldn’t be Spider-Man, Pete. I would never say that.”
“Then why are you saying anything?” he stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning lightly, “you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t get that I can’t just walk away from this.”
“You’re right,” you’d pulled back slightly from the harsh tone in his voice; he’d never talked to you in such a harsh tone before, “I don’t know what it's like. But I do know what it’s like to love you and I know how hard it is to watch you work yourself into the ground - it’s absolutely horrible. It’s just…we’re not getting younger, Pete. We’ve talked about getting married and starting our family - how are we going to do that when you’re gone so often and hurt?”
“You don’t…” he ran his hands over his tired face in exasperation, “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking for. I’m fine. If it’s just because you don’t want to deal with me anymore, just say it.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” you angrily swiped away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “I love you, Peter. I want a future with you, but I can’t have that if you’re not around for it! Maybe it’s still hard for you to accept that people care about you and only want the best for you. You take care of everyone else, but you have to let people take care of you too.”
“If I needed someone to take care of me, I would say something,” he hissed softly, “I’m fine, everything is fine. If you’ve got such a problem with it then maybe…maybe we shouldn’t be together then.”
Your mouth dropped open from the sheer shock of what he had just said. Something was going on with Peter, even if he wasn’t willing to admit to it. You gnawed on your cheek in order to keep from crying or making any sort of sound. You held up your hands in defeat and walked into the bedroom. Without even thinking about it, you went to the closet and grabbed out a duffle bag and started piling in some clothes, not paying attention to what was getting thrown into the bag. 
“I think I’m going to leave and give you space for a bit. We’re not going to figure anything out right now,” you whispered in a broken tone. Peter’s stomach lurched as he watched you pack; how did things escalate so quickly? He wanted to take it all back; he wished he would rewind the last half hour. 
“Don’t go,” he tried to stop you gently but you shook your head, “honey.”
“I don’t want to fight,” your voice was so gentle that he might not even have heard it if it was not for his enhanced senses. Peter sat down on the edge of the bed and watched you pack, feeling helpless and pathetic. He shouldn’t ever have talked to you that way. He was stupid. Stupid.
“Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I’ll see if I can stay with MJ or Harry or something. Don’t worry about it, Peter. It's fine."
He fell into silence as he watched you pack your necessities without any rhyme or reason. You really just wanted to get out of there and away from him; that killed him.
Once your bag was packed, you paused in the doorway and turned to give him one last look. The corner of your mouth pulled up into a sad little smile, but the light never reached your eyes. He gave you a small nod but neither of you said anything. 
He listened to your footsteps as you left the house and got into your car. Peter had really fucked up now.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“You wanna tell me why your girlfriend’s been staying with MJ for the past couple of days?” Miles turned his face away and busied himself with fiddling on the sleeve of his suit. He’d noticed that Peter had been in a mood lately and then he saw you at MJ’s when he went to pick something up from her. Miles was a smart kid and it wasn’t long before he put the pieces together. He was just curious - and concerned - about Peter. He’d never seen him down like this before and he hated it, “j-just curious.”
“Miles,” he yanked the mask off his face and leaned against the door. The two of them were on a random rooftop, keeping an eye on things despite the quiet night. He turned to face the younger man and Miles could see how tired and run down he looked, “it’s…been a lot.”
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but you can talk to me Pete,” he nudged his arm and offered him a meek smile. Peter had been there for him for so long and through so many hard times he wanted him to know that he was there for him as well, “but if you ever need someone to talk to…”
“Thanks Miles,” he reached over and gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze, “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Pete,” Miles hopped onto his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm going to worry even if you say not to."
"You're a good kid," he offered his protégé a half smile.
"I'm not a kid anymore," Miles huffed in response, "and you're getting old."
He half expected a laugh to come from the older man; instead all he heard was a small huff seemingly in agreement. Peter paused for a moment before meeting Miles' eyes, "that's the problem, isn’t it?”
"Whaddaya mean?" all sorts of bad thoughts crossed his mind. What if Peter was sick? Or something bad happened? What if-
"I know I'm getting older and things are different than they used to be," he leaned his back against the wall before whispering your name, "she brought it up the other day - that I'm not getting any younger and that I should…let go a little bit. I didn't take it well and we got into an argument and I said dumb things I shouldn't have."
"She's not wrong," Miles sat down in front of Peter and shrugged, "I mean it, its the same for me too. She just wants you around more, Pete. She’s put up with your ass for so long now. Have you apologized for what happened?"
 "No," he grimaced, "I haven't. I don't know what to say. I mean, I basically told her we should break up. I didn't mean it."
"Of course you didn't," he snored in amusement, "you're disgustingly in love."
Peter smiled at that; it was true after all. You were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life, he wanted everything with you, "I just don't know what to say. Or even if she'd want to listen. Maybe she's done with me."
"You're so stupid," Miles scoffed as Peter couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him, "she's not breaking up with you. She's just waiting for you to get your head out of your ass."
"Yeah?" Peter wanted to believe Miles was right, desperately so, because he couldn't imagine a life without you. That was not a life he wanted in any way.
"Parker," the younger spider stood back up and pulled the mask over his face, "get up and let's move. You're getting too pathetic for me."
"Yeah, yeah," he watched as Miles jumped off the roof, moving to follow suit. His body was more tired and stiff today; it was like everything you had lovingly pointed out was slowly coming to light. Peter sighed softly at the thought before concealing his identity again. 
He followed after Miles, a million thoughts swirling in his mind. At the end of it all, they all came back to you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"You've been moping around for days now," MJ wasn't wrong. You'd shown up at her apartment in the late night hours after your fight with Peter and she'd welcomed you without hesitation. Although only small details of what happened had come to light, Mary Jane Watson was a smart woman and had more or less put the pieces together, "are you either going to tell me the whole story or just continue being sad?"
"Shut up," you groaned playfully, throwing the big couch blanket over your face, "its nothing."
"I know you, and Pete, and you're both terrible liars," MJ pulled the blanket away, a knowing little look on her face. You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on top of them before letting out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh, “c’mon. What’s wrong?”
“Pete and I had a fight and it got a little heated,” you confessed, “he came home hurt and I was upset and it just…turned out all wrong. I told him that I hated seeing him hurt and that I thought maybe he should consider slowing down his…duties a little bit. He didn’t take it well.”
“I’m sure it was just the moment,” she always had this calming aura around her and you already felt a tiny bit better, “it’s not like Pete to argue or…be mean.”
“I know,” you could count the number of times the two of you had what you would consider an actual argument on one hand, “I think it just went a little far and I’d thought it was best to give him some distance. He…umm, and I know he didn’t mean it but he said that if I wasn’t okay with him being Spider-Man then maybe we should break up.”
“He actually said that?” her brow furrowed as you nodded meekly, “that’s not like him…but you know he didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” you sure hoped it was true anyway, “it’s just because I care about him, you know? We’ve talked about maybe starting to grow our family and I just wonder how he’s going to handle everything he normally does on top of having a baby. Plus, I hate seeing him get hurt and so exhausted all the time. I don’t want to take anything away from him, I just want him. I want him home and safe and cared for. And I hate the idea that he thinks I’d ever want him to stop being Spider-Man.”
“If he has any sense he’ll know that,” the redhead promised, “it might just take a minute for him to catch up. He is a man after all.”
At that you laughed, a full and true laugh that you hadn’t experienced in what felt like ever. You’d give Peter his space, but you hoped that at the end of the day he would come home to you, or rather, you would go home to him. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You almost jumped out of your seat at the kitchen table when you heard the loud and heavy knocking at the door. Scrambling out of the chair you darted to the door and peeked into the hallway to see who was at the door. To your surprise, you found a very anxious Peter Parker standing there. Your heart skipped a few beats as you hesitated on whether or not to open the door.
“I know you’re there,” he said softly, “I can hear your heartbeat.”
"What are you doing here, Peter?" You kept the mostly shut, leaving just enough room for you to poke your head out. It had been almost a week since you'd seen him and he didn't look much better than when you'd left. Your expression softened, any residual anger melting away. You could never stay mad at him.
"I wanted to talk to you," he almost choked on his words as he allowed himself to steal a peek at you, "and I want you to come home."
Home. The house that was one May Parker's was now his - yours. Together you had taken the good old memories and made even more of your own. You loved it there, and you loved it even more with Peter. 
“I think we should talk before we make any decisions,” part of you wanted to jump into his arms and squeeze the life out of him and kiss him and everything, but you didn’t. Instead you opened the door a little wider and motioned for him to come inside; MJ was out but you figured she wouldn’t care.
“I love you,” he blurted out before he even stepped inside, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink. Your mouth opened in surprise but you couldn’t deny the fact that it warmed your heart. There were still bits and pieces of the boy you’d fallen in love with so many times under there. 
“I love you too, Pete,” you motioned for him to follow you as you walked into the living room, taking a seat on the couch across from him. He sat down slowly, hesitantly, trying to get a read on you. But you had your best poker face on and weren’t showing your cards in the slightest, “you know that no matter what, I’ll always love you.”
His shoulders shagged with relief at your revelation; not that he had really doubted that but sometimes reassurance was needed. He nervously played with his hands, trying to gather his words; he had so much to say but wasn’t sure if he could manage to get it all out. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and you reached over to give his hands a small squeeze. 
“It’s okay,” you whispered, “just talk to me.”
“I’m sorry for how I acted that night,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I didn’t mean it when I said I thought that maybe we should break up. I don’t want to break up - I want you.”
“I hope you know that I never want anything but the very best for you,” he closed his eyes and nodded gently. Of course he knew that, you’d never given any reason to doubt that, “I never wanted to upset you, Pete.”
“I know,” he swallowed, a thick lump welling up in his throat, “I’ve always known that. It’s just that…I don’t know if I can just slow down and leave Spider-Man behind.”
“Peter,” you moved closer to him, your voice so soft and gentle that it almost made him cry, “slowing down doesn’t mean you’re leaving Spider-Man behind. You’re always going to be Spider-Man, nothing is going to change that. But it’s okay to let go a little and trust that Miles will be there for the city. And maybe some else in the future, maybe a whole gang of spiders. But you’ve been doing this for a long time, Peter. You deserve to rest too, you know.”
He looked up at you, teary-eyed and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him, hugging onto him tightly; had the hug been reversed he would have probably crushed you but you wanted him to know how much you loved him, “I’m sorry.”
He melted into your arms, nuzzling his face into your neck, his breathing growing ragged. You rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. His tears soaked into the cotton of your shirt but it didn’t matter at all to you -  all you wanted was for him to know he was loved and safe. 
After a while of holding him you pulled yourself out of his tight grasp and took his face in your hands, brushing away the drying tears on his face, “hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you. I’m not forcing you to do anything, I’m just giving you my opinion of what I’m seeing. Ultimately, it’s up to you, Pete. But you have to take care of yourself too. Will you at least try that? If not for you, I’ll be selfish and ask you to do it for me.”
“I will,” he turned his face so he could place a kiss into the palm of your hand, “I do want to marry you a-and start our family. Like we’ve always talked about.”
The way your eyes lit up was enough to indicate to him that whatever decisions he made or steps he took to make that future a reality would be worth it. You were worth it. You leaned in and kissed him tenderly, “yeah?”
“Yeah,” he promised, “I think you’re right about what you said and I think deep down I’ve known it too. It’s just so hard to admit it in a way.”
“It’s not saying goodbye,” you reminded him, “it’s just slowing down a little bit and taking moments for yourself.”
“I’ll work on it,” he decided it was a vow that he was going to keep it, “but if I’m ever an idiot, just remind me that I’m an idiot.”
“I have no problem with that,” you grinned excitedly, “my sweet Spider.”
“And I’m sorry,” he ran his hands up and down your sides, squeezing them gently, “really. For the things I said and how I acted. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that at you.”
“Apology accepted,” you took his hands in yours and held them tightly in turn, “thank you.”
“Will you come home?” he was nervous to ask but all he wanted was for you to be back home with him; it felt so strange and foreign without, “I-I understand if you don’t want right now but-”
“Of course,” you cut him off with a finger to his lips, “I want to come home. Plus, I think MJ will be glad to get rid of me moping around all the time. I missed you a lot, Pete.”
“I missed you so much,” he crushed you to his chest, causing you to laugh softly, “I can’t wait to have you back. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“Me too, Pete,” you burrowed yourself into his warm body as much as you could. You were already home. Peter would always be your home, “I love you, Spidey. My Spidey."
That made him beam brighter than the sun, “I love you too, honey.”
835 notes · View notes
sister-lucifer · 26 days
Note
I just want Brian to pull down my panties, cum in them, lift them back up, and send me on my way. I am down tremendously-
content/warnings: noncon, physical restraint, reader is AFAB and wears panties but no gender is specified, “cunt” and “pussy” used to describe reader’s genitalia, thigh fucking, pervert Brian, no actual penetrative sex, reader gets jumped in the woods, little to no build up/plot it’s just straight into the porn
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Without warning you’re suddenly shoved to the ground, a heavy weight coming down on your back to keep you there. You yelp in surprise as you feel a body land on top of yours, pushing you into the dirt and sending a sharp pain through your ribs as they bend beneath the force of two people. 
Your attempt to yell out is swiftly cut short when a gloved hand tangles itself in your hair, gripping it tightly as it muffles your cries with the soft dirt on the forest floor. You can feel the small rocks hidden in the soil leaving scrapes on your cheeks as you thrash.
The stranger’s second hand comes down on your back, grabbing at your waist to pull your ass into the air as he hastily, almost clumsily pulls up the bottom of your shirt. He fumbles with the waistband of your shorts, fingers slipping over your button as the fabric of his glove fights with him. He lets up on your hair for one second just so he can use both hands, violently yanking at the fasten of your jeans until it surrenders to his efforts with a harsh ripping sound. He pulls your zipper down so fast it nearly breaks, and even quicker still he’s jerking your shorts down your hips and then your thighs. You’re only allowed to lift your head long enough to cough and spit, wincing at the feeling of dirt in your teeth. You manage to turn and look back at your attacker for only a split second before your face is back against the ground. You whimper against the earth as the sight of the hooded man flashes before your eyes. 
You swear that you can hear him chuckle under his breath at the squeal that crawls up your throat as you feel him pulling eagerly at your panties. You thrash against him as much as you can, but despite your best efforts the pressure on your head and back keeps you disoriented. It’s clear what he wants, though; he lets up just a bit when you sit still. You’re tiring yourself out fast, and you both know it.
You shiver when your panties are pulled down to your knees, resting against the ground and exposing your delicate cunt to the eyes of this aggressive pervert. He smiles under his mask, an expression of absolute debauchery hidden behind black fabric and a sewn on red frown that’ll be burned into your memory forever. 
The strangled noise you let out when you feel him rut against your waiting pussy through his jeans is mortifying. The denim and its metal button are harsh against your sensitive flesh as the stranger practically humps you like a wild dog, hard on twitching in his pants. You can hear him huffing through his mask, breathing heavily through the gaps in his gritted teeth. He’s desperate, nearly rabid with need for a reason that’s beyond you. 
You freeze when you hear him fumble with his zipper, gloved knuckles brushing your back as he struggles with only thing keeping him restrained. A heavy gasp makes your body shake when you suddenly feel the already leaking tip of his cock brush against your thigh. 
“W-Wait, don’t—!” You stammer, thrashing even harder in his grip with the last of your energy. He shushes you harshly, fingers tightening harshly in your hair as a warning. 
“Don’t be so loud,” He whispers, “You’re fine. I ain’t gonna hurt ya unless you make me…” 
You squeak in surprise when his cock slides between your trembling thighs. You instinctively squeeze your legs together, only to cringe when he moans in response. He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure as he repositions himself over you, finally releasing your hair only to pin your hands down, wrapping your body in his to keep you still as he starts to thrust. The noises that are pulled from your throat every time he pushes forward are viscerally humiliating, especially the way your voice cracks when his shaft just barely brushes your clit, not once threatening to break through your entrance but taking horrid delight in using it for his own pleasure. He’s shameless in the noise he makes, huffing and groaning in your ear and cursing under his breath every time he moves. 
He barely keeps a steady pace, his desperation becoming apparent with each thrust. You can feel his cock twitch against your thighs as it slides between them, able to feel every vein that runs up the side, all of them pumping hard and fast with adrenaline and primal need. You shudder to think what it would’ve felt like had he decided to use your hole instead.
“H-Haah…you’re…g-getting wet,” He growls in your ear, as though it’s an insult. It may as well be. You whine and turn away from him, biting your lip and ignoring the fact that you can feel yourself soaking his cock and it slides against your cunt. 
You can feel him starting to tremble, and you know in an instant he won’t last much longer. You suck in a breath, silently hoping whatever he chooses to do won’t leave a mess on your back or thighs. You won’t be able to deal with it until you’ve made the trek all the way back down the trail. 
“Gonna…g-gonna cum—“ He whispers through gritted teeth. His hands squeeze around yours, grip getting tighter and tighter, almost to a painful degree as he chases his release with reckless abandon. He’s staring to lose whatever little bit of restraint he has left, and fast. 
All at once his resolve collapses, guttural noises of pleasure falling from his lips as his hips slam erratically against you. He barely manages to choke out one last word of warning before suddenly he stops, cock head barely nestled between your thighs as his entire body tenses and shakes with the force of an orgasm that nearly makes him cry out. He barely manages to strangle the sound before it leaves his throat, cock twitching as it releases hard and fast. You cringe in anticipation of feeling the sticky warmth trail down your thighs, but the sensation never comes. After a few moments you sigh, relieved to have been granted this one small mercy. 
You’re too dazed and dizzy to move when he finally gets up off of you. You stay on the ground despite your humiliating position, and despite the wicked chuckle your attacker allows to slip. 
His boots crunch on the ground, and for a moment you think he’s just going to walk away, leave you here to take care of yourself. Then you feel your panties being slid back up your thighs. You can only be confused for a moment before you’re struck with the uncomfortable feeling of your warm, soaking panties squeezing around the mound of your cunt. The substance is thick and unbearably sticky, not to mention far too much for it to have come from you, especially without an orgasm. 
You flinch and squeal as he fastens your shorts back in place around your waist, tightly keeping your panties in place and making sure you can’t escape the feeling of his cum soaking your pussy and threatening to stain your jeans. 
He stands back up, buttoning his jeans and adjusting his pants a bit before shoving his hands back in the pocket of his faded yellow hoodie. He’s silent for a moment, admiring his work with a hidden smirk spread across his face. 
“Better get walkin’, sweetheart,” He teases, toe of his boot nudging your pussy through your shorts, “It’s a loooong way home.”
197 notes · View notes
moonlightpetalz6 · 8 months
Text
Kinktober Day 2 (Vampire)
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Character: Yuma Mukami x Reader
Reader: Fem Reader
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, blood, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, degradation, harsh language, Marking, possessive Yuma
Wc: 3,610
A/n: I am so sorry for getting this out so late! I had it all set up to post and then got distracted! Anyway, please enjoy the second post for Kinktober! I promise I will get the others out earlier during the day! Also, I do apologize if I miss any warning tags as I tried to make sure I wrote them all above!
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You let out a small sigh as you lay in the center of your bed, staring up at the ceiling as you found yourself deep in thought. 'How mad will he be? Should I try to cover it? No, he'll notice.' You feel your brows knit together as you frown, bringing a hand to your neck to carefully slide your fingers over the two bite marks, the skin slightly red and swollen from having been pierced through earlier that night. "What if I just run away until it's healed?" You shake your head at your words as you sit up slowly, walking towards your bathroom. Once inside, you look into the mirror, fingers carefully caressing the wound as you let out a slight hiss from the stinging pain. You grip the sink as you put your head down in defeat. "Yuma isn't going to be happy when he gets back!" You whined, already imagining your boyfriend's reaction. 
You were a sacrificial bride like Yui; only you had been assigned to the Mukami household. Of course, none of the guys took an interest in you as they were more focused on Yui, but you didn't mind, as it just meant you wouldn't constantly have to deal with them trying to feast off your blood. However, this changed when, one night, you stumbled upon Yuma, looking especially tired due to hunger. At first, the thought of leaving him to suffer did cross your mind. Still, seeing the usually gruff and mean vampire looking so tired and almost pathetic, you couldn't help but give him pity as you went and offered your blood to him, stating that it was the only thing you were even alive for and that he should be grateful. Since then, Yuma and you had grown really close, eventually developing a relationship when Yuma declared that no other man was allowed to drink your blood. 
Your ears perk up when you hear voices enter the house, causing you to panic as you quickly try to lock your door and hide under your sheets, praying that Yuma would be too tired to visit you. Wishful thinking, right? After a few minutes of being home, you heard a loud knock on your door, causing a small curse to leave your lips as your grip on the sheets tightened, knuckles slowly turning white as you feared for your life. After a few more knocks from the door, followed by silence on your end, the doorknob started to shake, indicating that the person on the other side was getting annoyed. "Oi! Y/n, why the hell is the door locked?" You heard your boyfriend's voice call out, annoyed from the other side. You slowly pull your head out from the sheets as you shakily answer the man, knowing there is no use in pretending not to be home. 
"I-I'm not feeling too good! So don't come in!" You called, mentally cursing the stutter in your voice from nerves. The doorknob stopped moving as he took a moment to process your words. "Huh? You looked fine earlier when I saw you." He muttered in a voice, sounding like he wasn't buying your excuse. "W-well, I'm not anymore, so go away!" You yelled before hiding under the blankets again, your eyes squeezed shut, your nerves going wild at the potential rage of the man on the other side. You hear a small grunt followed by silence, allowing your body to relax, your grip on the sheets loosening as you allow your heartbeat to fill your ears. This moment doesn't last long as a giant hand comes and snatches the sheets off your puny form, causing you to let out a surprised shriek, quickly jumping up in the bed to look at the culprit. 
There stood your highly intimidating boyfriend towering over the side of your bed with a cocky smirk as he held the sheets in his hands, looking down at you with those mischievous eyes you loved so much. "Feeling sick huh? You look fine to me, livestock." He mocked, eyeing you up and down to make sure he was right and not being a dick. You just sat there staring at him in awe before a pout formed on your face when you processed the old annoying nickname, he used to call you. "Yuma, what did I say about calling me that?! It makes it sound like I'm nothing but a toy to you." You huff, looking away from him as you cross your arms. He says nothing as he clicks his tongue in annoyance and tosses the sheets to the side. Neither of you says anything as you continue to avoid eye contact with him before you feel the mattress sink, indicating that he is moving onto your bed. "Come on, babe I didn't get to see your sexy face at all today." He purred while grabbing your chin, ensuring your gaze landed on him as he smirked, licking his lips.
You watched as he leaned down to place a kiss on your lips but quickly remembered the bite mark on your neck as you lightly pushed him away. "Yuma…not tonight." You muttered, avoiding eye contact again, causing the vampire to frown as his eyes narrowed with your sudden actions. "What the hell is up with you today? First the lying, and now you're avoiding me entirely?" He growled, teeth showing as he clenched his jaw, feeling himself growing angrier at the fact you weren't looking at him. 
You cringe at his tone, your hair standing up as the room fills with a dark atmosphere, causing you to recoil. "N-nothing is wrong…I just-!" Your eyes went wide as Yuma went to move your hair back, something he tended to do when he was giving you his full attention, which you loved; however, this time, all you felt was fear as your body froze. 'He sees it.' You think to yourself, not even having to look in Yuma's direction as a deep growl leaves his throat as he grips your shoulder roughly, pulling your body towards his. You whimper at his rough grip while he goes and forces your chin up, your fearful eyes locking with his enraged ones. "This isn't mine." He growls, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger. 
You don't say anything as he glares down at you, veins starting to pop from his temples and neck. "Whose is it, Y/n?" He hisses while leaning closer to your face, lips only inches apart. You try to look away from him, tears forming as you never liked when Yuma got angry. Of course, he never hit you or anything, but when it came to what was his, you knew his possessive side was nothing to joke about. Yuma watches as you try to avoid him yet again, feeling his blood boil as he pins you down onto the bed, arms above your head, holding them together, one hand watching as you look up at him with fear. He grits his teeth, not liking that look in your eyes as the only emotion he ever wanted to see from those orbs that made his chest flutter was pure love. Yuma knew that he never stood a chance when it came to his other brothers, along with the Sakamaki, when it came to winning Eve, but none of that mattered to him when you entered his life that night you offered your blood to him. "Y/n, I'm not patient, so I'll ask you again." His grip on your wrists tightened as you started to squirm from discomfort. "Who marked what's mine?" His eyes bore into yours, causing a shiver to run through your body. It was like he was staring deep into your soul, driving your heart to race as you started to feel embarrassed from getting excited due to your situation. 
"K-Kou was feeling thirsty, so he-!' You stop speaking when Yuma slams his fist against your bed frame, causing it to crack. "H-Hey! Just because you're angry doesn't mean you can break my stuff!" You yelled up at him, your voice finally returning to normal as you tried to escape his grip. "Tch. Fuck!" Yuma cursed before roughly sinking his fangs into the other side of your neck, causing you to let out a loud whine as you arched your back, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. "O-Ouch, Yuma, that's too hard!" You cried, but he ignored you as he continued to drink your blood, letting out a deep hum as he tasted your flavor on his tongue, his throat growing hot as the warm liquid entered his system. 
Yuma releases your wrists, letting out a deep chuckle as he feels you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, your small, delicate hands caressing the back of his head for comfort, knowing that he tended to calm down whenever you played with his hair. He pulled away from your neck, making sure to lick up any blood that seeped from his marks before sucking on the spot earning a small moan from you as your grip around him tightened. "Y-Yuma, I said not tonight." You whined, trying to wiggle away from him. Yuma grunts as he grabs your hips with his giant hand, giving them a possessive squeeze before pulling away from you. The two of you look into each other's eyes, neither of you saying a word as you catch a glimpse of your blood trickling down his chin. "I'm going to beat his ass." Yuma finally growls while his thumbs carefully rub circles on your hips, his eyes still holding rage, but this time accompanied by love and lust. "You're mine, and they know it." Once again, he sinks his fangs into your flesh, right over the area Kou had bitten before leaving the mansion. 
Yuma hums as his hands start to slide up and down your sides, giving occasional squeezes as he feels your body and blood start heating up, causing the tight feeling in his pants as he pulls away before making more bite marks along your collarbone. "You taste like fucking candy, baby~" He coos between bites listening as you let out small whimpers, your breathing becoming heavy as the pain from his bites soon turns to pleasure while you continue to play with his hair. Yuma loved the taste of your blood; the smell alone drove him crazy. He growls as he pulls away from you, his eyes taking in all the marks showing that you belonged to him and no one else. With a smirk, Yuma positions himself on top of you, his arms on either side of your head as he goes and grinds against you, watching as your already pink cheeks start to turn a deep red as you feel the bulge press against your clothed pussy. 
"Sorry, sugar…" He chuckles while grinding against you again, watching your facial expressions with his lustful eyes as he feels his chest swell with excitement as he watches you squirm and whimper underneath him. His eyes trail back to the bites he left, causing the tent in his pants to twitch as he leans close to your ear, a sadistic smirk on his face. "But seeing you with bites like this makes me so hard~" He growls before nipping at your lobe, causing a slight whine to leave your lips. "Yuma….stop teasing me." You pant out, feeling yourself getting more turned on as the friction becomes too much. Yuma scoffs as his movements halt, causing you to whine at the sudden loss. "Tch, who are you telling me to stop?" He growls while pulling away. You just lay there staring at him with confusion written all over your face as your mind tries to process everything happening due to blood loss. 
Yuma looks down at you, annoyed, as each leg lies on either side of your body. You don't say anything as you watch him trail his fingers across every single mark he made before stopping on the one where Kou's previously lay. "You think after letting my brother sink his fucking fangs into you, I'll do as you please? Fucking slut." He spat while his hands slid down your chest, his rough and giant palms aggressively massaging the mounds of flesh. "Mmh…I didn't let him, Yuma, I promise!" You moan out your mind and body, frustrated with his actions and words. Yuma growls, ripping your top off as he watches your breasts fall with a slight bounce. Your eyes widen as you quickly try to cover up with your arms. Yuma frowns at this as he grabs your arms, roughly pinning them to your sides. "Don't you ever cover this sexy body while with me." His tone is one of warning as he waits for your response. Feeling powerless, you give a weak nod, your body growing hot and embarrassed as he stares at you. 
“Y-Yuma I’m sorry Kou bit me...I'm sorry for being a bad girl." You started to cry, wanting him to smother you in love and praise like he usually did. Yuma takes in your pitiful form and lets out a deep sigh as he goes and licks your tears away, letting out a dissatisfied grunt. "So salty." He mumbled before peppering your face with kisses as he stroked your hair. "Shhh, Sugar…fuck I'm sorry," he murmured, now angry with himself. "Look at me, Y/n," he demands while cupping your cheek. You do as told, giving him a slight pout as he goes and roughly presses his lips to yours, his fangs sinking into the sensitive flesh, causing you to whine while you wrap your arms around him. Yuma hums, satisfied with your response, as he goes and starts to pull your shorts down with his free hand, causing a small gasp to leave your lips as he slowly rubs circles against the wet spot on your panties. 
Yuma pulled away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips as he went and licked the blood smeared against your lips. "You're mine, Y/n….only I can touch you and drink your blood," he growls while licking down your neck. "Yes, baby, I know…I tried hard to stop him, I promise." You cupped his cheeks, causing a soft sigh to leave his lips as he stared down at you with loving eyes. "If I ever catch those scumbags tasting you, I'll devour you, Y/n." He admits, kissing your wrist gently, sinking his fangs into the tender skin, watching your eyes fill with lust. You give him a loving smile as you tilt your head to the side, eyes half-lidded as a small giggle leaves your lips, causing his heart to race. "I understand." You whispered. Yuma looked at you, trying to find any lies within your words. You knew he had eaten his victim's entire body before, so you knew his words were no threat. After finding none, he smirks while pulling your panties down, his fingers quickly slipping inside your drenched pussy, causing your mouth to form an O as you arched your back small moans leaving your swollen lips. 
"Y/n… you're too sweet for me." He whispers as he slides two fingers in and out of your tight walls. "So, fucking wet for me too, baby~ fuck, I can't wait." He laughed as he watched his fingers become coated in your slick. "I haven't seen you all day…fuck baby." He growled before latching onto one of your perked breasts, causing you to arch your back as your hands wrapped around his head, fingers gripping his soft brown locks. He chuckles, reaching his free hand back as he pulls out his hair tie, allowing you to watch his hair fall beautifully, framing his face and causing you to bite your lip. Yuma carefully grinds the perked bud, ensuring his fangs don't pierce the skin. His fingers start to go faster when he feels you clench around them, causing a grunt to leave his lips, knowing you loved when his hair was down. With a small pop, Yuma released your breast, glancing up at you, who held nothing but lust on your face as your lips parted in the cutest way with each moan that escaped your beautiful throat. 
"Y-Yuma, I'm gonna…" You trail off fists, gripping the sheets as you feel the familiar knot forming, your breathing becoming uneven as your grip on his hair tightens. "Fuck right there, Yuma, please!" You cry, feeling his fingers curl against that one spot. Right as you're about to reach your limit, Yuma's fingers slip out, allowing his ears to fill with the most pathetic noise he's ever heard leave your mouth. He smirks, sitting up straight as he goes, and removes his shirt while unbuckling his pants. "Not yet baby… I'm still pretty angry about my brother leaving his mark on you, you know?" He chuckles, watching your eyes trail down to his now-free erection that smacks against his abdomen. "How can I make it clear to them all that you're truly mine?" He mumbles, pretending to be in thought as he teasingly slides the tip of his dick against your wet folds watching as the precum smears on your glistening pussy, causing his dick to twitch. You whine, wiggling your hips to try and get more friction from your cruel vampire boyfriend. 
"Oh…I know how I can show them~" The corners of his lips rise into a sadistic grin as he positions himself at your needy entrance while placing his face inches from yours, ensuring your eyes are locked. "I'm going to fucking ruin you~" He growls before slipping his dick inside with a rough thrust. You throw your head back as Yuma continues to thrust deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he looks down at you, the sadistic grin still plastered across his face as he licks his lips. "That's right, sugar; you're my tasty human slut, right?" He purrs as he goes and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. You watch as Yuma licks up your thigh before sinking his fangs into the tender flesh, his eyes locked with yours. You bite your lip, letting out a deep moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head from all the rough pleasure your body receives. 
Yuma continues to thrust as deep as he can, refusing to leave your addicting pussy for even a second as he watches his dick get covered in your juices. "You're such a filthy girl, Y/n. so fucking filthy just for me!" He growls, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix, causing tears in your eyes from the sudden pain mixed with pleasure. "F-Fuck Yuma too deep!" You cry, trying to push him back but failing as he grips your hand. "That's right, baby. I'm so fucking deep inside you right now. I'm going to ruin this filthy pussy of yours. Going to make it shaped just right for me and only me." Your pussy clenches at his words, the knot from earlier coming back as you arch your back off the bed. "Fuck! Fuckfuck! Yuma, I'm going to cum!" You cry, tears of pleasure falling from your face. Yuma clicks his tongue as he slows down his pace, causing a whine to leave your lips. "Why'd you do that?" You pout, looking up at him with glassy eyes drooling, staining your chin, lips all bruised from his kisses. Yuma smirks as he leans down, giving you a quick kiss as he goes and starts kissing and sucking each mark he left along your neck and collarbone, making sure to provide each of them equal attention. 
"Because Sugar," He starts his free hand sliding up and down your leg, still placed over his shoulder, before giving your thigh a possessive squeeze. "You can't come without my permission, and after I've had plenty to drink." He chuckles before sinking his fangs back into your neck, his thrusts becoming aggressive again as you throw your head back, allowing him better access as his fangs sink deeper into the sensitive spot of your neck, knowing it was one of your favorite places for him to emerge his fangs. Yuma felt himself going feral as the temperature of your blood increased, mixing with the salty flavor of your sweaty skin. He lets out a deep moan, his thrusts starting to become sloppy. "Cum baby…cum with me." He pants, kissing along your jawline. "Show me you're mine." After hearing your boyfriend's possessive words followed by a deep growl, you felt the knot burst, your vision going white as a loud moan echoes throughout your room. 
Yuma smirks as he fills your pussy with his cum making sure none slips out as he looks down at you with the most possessive look you've ever seen him have on that gorgeous face of his. "That's right, baby! Fuck so tasty~ give me more, baby; come on, give it to me!" He laughs, still moving his hips through your orgasm as you let out small, babbled whines, unable to form an actual sentence from how fucked out and dizzy you were due to the blood loss. Yuma looks at you and pouts gently, tapping his finger to your nose before playfully scratching at it, chuckling as he watches you give a tired smile. 'So, fucking cute and sweet.' He thinks the love for you flows through his entire being as he feels himself getting hard inside you. "Hey, baby." He whispers in your ear, giving you a few kisses, to which you hum in response, lazily playing with his hair. 
"Come on; Sugar let's play more~"
804 notes · View notes
crimsonbubble · 8 months
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Hey babe. You know part 2 to your shadow company blub. I can't help but need to ask for that specific piece where you said when they run a bath for you, you can't help but get finger fucked. Like omg I'm feeling so embarrassed to ask but you are one of the few people that gives me justice in smut ok
I'm on my period and feeling like a slut. Anyways love you. 🫶🏽
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cw. nsfw, afab!reader, bath sex, fingering, overstimulation, praise, squirting *not proofread, just pure horny
[SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S,, GOOD LORD NONNIE THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME HOW FUCKING HORNY I AM FOR THE SHADOW COMPANY // continuing the bath part of this hc thing :D] also the names are purely random bc not using names would make this way too confusing
kinktober masterlist
MINORS DNI!!
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They take care of you. They always do.
So after a long and tiring session, two shadows, Logan and Stephen were assigned to take care of and pamper you. The two assigned to you were sweethearts, like two big and loving dogs. They’re just as eager as them too.
The shadows are simple, you lay back and sit all nice and pretty while they do all the work. So here you sat, in the bath of soothingly warm water as Stephen lightly washed your back. “You did so well, bunny. Did such a good job today.” You preen under the praise, closing your eyes as you get your hair washed.
Logan moved their hands down, washing along your arms and ribs. You can’t tell when the switch flipped until a hand found its way to your thighs. You subconsciously open your legs, letting out a short gasp as you feel two fingers press circles into the sensitive nub.
Your thighs clamp down around the hand before they are pushed open again. “Just want one more, baby, promise, just one more.” You lean back against the edge of the tub, holding onto Logan’s forearm.
Stephen reaches down, pressing two fingers against your sore pussy. His fingers are quick to push in, getting kisses along your cheeks as you cry out and clamp down on them. Their paces picked up immensely as you hiccuped out moans, hips twitching as all your pleasure points were pressed against.
“That’s it, sweet bun. Take us just like this, nice and easy.” It is not nice and easy. You feel like you’re gonna explode, grabbing at anything and everything in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. The water around you sloshed rapidly as you were lifted out of the water and placed onto Logan’s lap.
Logan’s fingers replace Stephen’s, while his replaced Logan's. The two continued to toy and play with your cunt, circling your swollen clit with feather-like touches and harsh curls into your sweet spot. You’re thrashing in Logan’s lap, the contrast in touches making you dizzy.
“C’mon pretty baby, give it to me, just one more time.” Stephen scissored you open with his fingers, using his free hand to hold your thighs open. The feeling was overwhelming, surrounding you and clogging your senses. Your brain feels like cotton, airy and floaty as the pleasure becomes increasingly intense.
The constant friction of fingers against your sweet spots, figure eights on your clit and the smooth purr of praises muddle your brain. Your body is on autopilot as each nerve ending is set on fire. All you can hear is water splashing, wet sounds of skin on skin and the voices of the men cooing never-ending praises into your ears.
Once the ringing in your ears had quieted down, you managed to wedge your eyes open. Through bleary eyes, you noticed the once dry shirt of Stephens was soaked from the chest down. His eyes held a look of bewilderment as he tried to calm his laboured breathing. Logan was breathing just as hard, his hands holding your thighs open.
Though your vision had cleared, your head did not. You merely looked at Stephen in confusion, before it was replaced with shock. Logan handed you off to Stephen before he kneeled in front of you, now getting his entire lower half wet as he sank into the water. “We’re not stopping until you do that again.”
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loveriwoo · 4 months
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~ ☆ boynextdoor reaction to you coming home late . . - 0t6 . . .
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———————————★——————————
psh: comforts as usual. he tried calling, texting, all that sort, he just lays onto your shared bed, sinking in the mattress hoping you’d be home by the following minutes, he’d listen to your guys’ playlist to past time, suddenly hearing a knock at the door he sparks up sharp and gets out of bed “where have you been.. I missed you” his sleepy eyes say a lot, he just holds you tight rubbing your back softly, though he doesn’t question you much as you both were lead back into your bedroom to doze off.
lsh: he definitely overthinks— he’s wondering around the house hoping you’d pick up the call as he mumbles to himself, praying your safe, he leaves the door of the apartment unlocked but still can’t doze of to sleep not until he sees you’re right in-front of him and fine. As you open the door he immediately rushes out “are you okay?? Where have you been?!” He hugs you tightly not wanting to let go “I’m fine riri,,” he’s still a little worried but at ease, not wanting to bother you with questions you both go to bed, he’s just glad you’re okay.
mjh: very worried at first and it just slowly starts changing into being upset, just like riwoo, he will overthink it, thinking you might be in danger or so,, you try sneaking by using your keys but fail as the doors were locked, you rang the door bell and jaehyun didn’t take even 1 second to rush and answer “it’s so late..” he takes you inside “where were you, it’s nearly 3am” he visibly looks upset “I’m sorry jae,, I’m too tired to talk can we sleep?,,” you yawn hugging into his arms as he carry’s he to the bedroom, still upset but happy you’re safe with him.
hdm: as his impatient self, sitting on the couch, his foot taping every second that passes, taesan is NOT the patient kind, it annoyed him that you wasn’t showing up, taking matters into his own hands he gets up and out of the apartment now trying to look for you around your streets, as he spots you around the corner walking slowly looking tired as if you was leaping over your own steps, he slowly rushes to where you are “it’s freezing at this time” taking his jacket off to put over you, you look up at him “sorry taesan, I stayed behind on shift and —yawns— I’m really,, tired..” taesan puts his arm around you whilst you go back into the apartment ready to cuddle and sleep.
kdh: overprotective asl, he is MAD that you aren’t picking up any calls, he stands and waits right against the door as you knock and he opens the door you’re greeted with a harsh overprotective sounding “where were you. Why haven’t you looked at your phone and answered my calls.” , “baby my phon—“ he interrupted now closer to you “do you not understand how fucking worried I was??” You just look away and try going to your bedroom but he holds you still “you know I just care for you..” he looks at you sharply, you sigh “ I’m sorry leehan but can we please go to bed, am tired..” nodding as he follows you behind to go get some rest too.
kwh: cannot stay up late even though it was a life or death situation- he waits infront of the door, phone in his hand hoping his messages go through but slowly and surely his eyes close up on him, opening the apartment door as you step in you’re greeted with couch-sleeping woonhak, his phone right next to him on your contact, not wanting to wake him up you kiss his cheek and get him a blanket as you go pass out onto the bed and get sone rest.
(Psh = park Sungho)
(lsh = lee sanghyeok/riwoo)
(Mjh = Myung jaehyun)
(Hdm = Han dongmin/taesan)
(Kdh = Kim donghyun/leehan)
(kwh = Kim woonhak)
[hope I didn’t make much spelling mistakes, and if I did I do apologise ㅠㅠ]
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simpingforstardew · 1 month
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misty [chapter three]
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pairing: sdv harvey x reader
synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter three.
warnings: poor overworked harvey :(( please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).
word count: 1.6k
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The fluorescent lights of the clinic cast a harsh, sterile glow, illuminating the white walls and linoleum floors of Harvey’s small office, casting an unnaturally pale glow over the cluttered desk. The clatter of the doctor’s footsteps on tiled floors echoes through the empty hallways.
Today was supposed to be different. Today was supposed to be his day off.
For the past two weeks, Harvey had been working overtime, sacrificing his days off to update Pravoloxinanone prescriptions, coordinate with healthcare professionals around Ferngill, and arranging appointments for the townsfolk. Turns out that without the distraction of an attractive farmer, the passing work days have been unforgivingly laborious.
He could, in theory, ask Maru to pick up some extra shifts, to stay behind a couple hours more. He knew she was eager to help, but he couldn’t bring himself to burden her further. She had her own responsibilities, attending college lectures online while juggling part-time work at the clinic.
A sudden death rattle of his fax machine shattered the silence, its mechanical whirring cutting through the stillness of the office like a knife— a relentless reminder of the endless stream of tasks demanding his attention.
He glances at the clock on the wall, his tired eyes struggling to focus through the thick lenses of his glasses.
3:30 pm.
Another hour wasted, another day lost to the demands of his job. He sighed wearily, running a hand through his greying hair. Harvey still couldn’t tell if the strands of silver were a testament to his age or his perpetual stress. He didn’t know which answer he would prefer.
He gazed out of his window, watching sparrows gracefully darting through the clear sky above. Dark-eyed juncos, specifically— Junco hyemalis. Harvey’s brief fascination with bird-watching while at University always managed to resurface during moments like this, when searching for an excuse to look away from his work.
The sight stirs something within him, prompting him to break the monotony. Locking himself in his office, Harvey realized, would only consign him to an evening of fatigue. So, he pushes away from his cluttered desk, picking up his green overcoat from the coat rack as he leaves the clinic.
Hurrying down the cobblestone path, Harvey’s mind races with a cacophony of thoughts. He fails to notice you walking his way until it is too late.
You collide with a jolt, and Harvey stumbles backward. The doctor could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. His dishevelled appearance must have been evident, his fatigue and stress written plainly across his face.
“Oh, shoot, I—,” You panic, rubbing your shoulder bashfully, “I am so sorry, Harvey I-,”
“No, no, It is perfectly fine— I was just, distracted tthinking about a recent article I read about the recent rise of…” His voice trails off, acutely aware of how awkward he must sound, “Whooping… cough.”
“Hm, that doesn’t sound like much fun,” you grimace sympathetically.
“Oh, on the contrary! Pertussis is actually rather fascinating, that reminds me to reach out to Jodi and Shane to see if they can book a vaccination appointment for Vincent and J—”
“You’re doing the thing.” You interrupt, recognising a fellow workaholic when you see one. A kindred spirit.
“What thing? I am not doing a… thing.”
“Sure you are— you’re doing the thing I used to do at my old job,” Your tone gentle but firm. “You grovel and moan over your work, it stresses you out so you take a break, then you realize you’re stuck thinking about the work that was stressing you out!”
“Well, I am a doctor— There is no way for me to not think… I- I have an entire town to look after for Yoba’s sake. ” Harvey retorts defensively.
“Of course, and that’s the problem.”
“That is..?”
In that moment, as you notice the doctor picking as the skin on his fingers, you see the bags under his eyes; the paleness of his skin. You had seen undead creatures in the mines more full of life.
“Who’s looking after you, Harvey?” your voice softens, concern evident in your eyes, “I mean, I don’t want to pry, but I’m not surprised you’re stressed with the weight of the valley on you all the time. But you can’t manage that burden alone. Nobody could.”
“O-Oh, I um—,” Harvey falters, stammering as his defences crumble in the face of your genuine concern, “Appreciate your candour, truly, but you do not need to worry about me. My well-being shouldn’t be any of your…” He huffs, his cheeks flushed.
Despite his larger stature, Harvey’s wide eyes scanning your face anxiously made the man appear small; weak. You ignore the impulse to take his rosy cheeks in your hands, or to clasp his hands to calm his nervous fidgeting.
He clears his throat as his phone rings— a blocky grey mobile, a model you haven’t seen since 2005.
“I- need to take this call, I’m sorry.” He leaves, jogging back to the clinic. As you see him leave, you wonder what exactly he was apologising for.
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As you push open the creaky doors of the saloon, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter wash over you like a warm embrace. The dimly lit room is filled with the scent of aged wood and the tang of whiskey.
“Hey there, stranger!” Sam’s booming voice cuts through the din, drawing the attention of the entire room. His grin is as infectious as ever, and you can’t help but return it as you make your way over to the group by the pool table. Abigail and Sebastian wave you over eagerly, their faces lit up with genuine excitement.
“Hey gang, sorry I got caught up with something,” You drop your backpack on the polished wooden floor as you crash onto the plush sofa next to Abigail.
It’s been years since you’ve all been together like this—no screens or avatars, just flesh and blood friends reconnecting in the real world. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you. Sure, Sebastian is now a little taller, Sam a little more pierced, Abigail a little more muscular. Despite what has changed since you last visited the valley to see your grandfather, the gang was still here. And with the way you all slip into conversation, it’s as if you never left.
As you settle in, taking in the familiar faces and the comforting hum of conversation, Abigail leans in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, what’s going on with your love life? It seems like every time we’d chat online, you’d either be lovesick or swearing off romance altogether.”
Your smile falters slightly.
It wasn’t as though you weren’t looking for love— if anything, you consider yourself quite the romantic— but with the chaos of the farm, dating seems out of the question.
“I don’t know, Abs. I’ve come to realise that dying alone is underrated,” You quip with a chuckle, hoping a comedic distraction will satisfy as an answer, “Honestly, the freedom of being single rules, you guys should try it some time.”
“Nahh,” Sam lets out a hearty laugh, flopping down on top of you and Abigail with all the grace of a newborn foal, “We’ve got the dating thing down, shout out to your lonely ass though.”
“Sam!”Abigail gasps incredulously, pushing the blonde off with a huff, though there’s a fondness in her eyes that belies her words, “Don’t be an dick!”
You all share a laugh as Sam looks up from his crumpled position on the floor, his puppy-dog eyes silently pleading for forgiveness.
Sebastian places his drink on a nearby table, sauntering over to the three of you, “Well, (Y/n) if you ever need a wingman, you know where to find me.” He smirks at you before picking up the pool cue resting against the wall.
“Pfft, as if they’d pick you to be their wingman when I’m right here!” Sam stands up, looking frantically between you and Sebastian before dropping dramatically to his knees, “Right, bestie? You’d totally trust me to pick you out a partner!”
Before you can imagine what having the punk as your wingman would entail, the bell above the bar’s front door chimes: Elliot strides through the saloon, exchanging greetings with Emily and Gus before running his fingers through his auburn hair. You wonder what shampoo he uses.
The poet’s eyes scan the room until they land on you. “Ah, apologies for the interruption. Have any of you seen Harvey, perchance? This is the second time he has failed to show…” Elliot’s voice trails off, concern etching lines into his chiselled features.
“Oh, I saw him earlier. He seemed,” Overworked? Exhausted? Close to death? “…busy.”
“Ah, well that certainly sounds like him. If you happen to run into him again, do try to convince him to re-join society.” Elliot laughs, although there is no more humour in his statement as there is truth.
As the author leaves, the conversation in the saloon continues to flow. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have overstepped with Harvey earlier— the thought gnaws at you.
You don’t know why you are so worried about him, surely he can look after himself; surely it didn’t matter if he has somebody in his life to look after him. You try not to think about somebody else being there for him. Somebody else holding him at night. Somebody else wiping away his tears.
Instead, you force a smile, joining in the laughter, as your concern for Harvey lingers, a shadow over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere of the saloon.
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riordanness · 6 months
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— say don’t go - [tmr!newt]
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wordcount: 0.9K
warnings: uh- you have the flare
requested: no
We’d been running for… how long? It felt like forever. Days and days of scorching heat, oppressive sunlight, harsh winds. My throat feels dry all the time, my eyes ache, and my legs are rubber.
At least I have Newt. No one could ask for a better friend. He’s always there for me, right beside me no matter what. He gives me the water even though I know he must be just as thirsty as I am.
He makes sure he’s the one carrying the pack we’re supposed to be sharing; he’s always taking my turns.
How can I tell him I know I’m not immune? That the cranks scratched me back in that old warehouse a few days ago? The weight of knowing my days are dissolving in front of my eyes is so heavy I can barely breathe. What should I do? What does anyone do, knowing you’re about to die?
I know I have to tell him soon. I can’t keep putting it off — it’s killing me in more ways than one.
Minho calls for a stop hours after nightfall. I have lost complete track of time; too lazy to keep track with my wristwatch. My head is fuzzy enough as it is.
Newt glances at me, and gives me a weak smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground, my knees giving way after one too many hours of walking.
Newt is at my side in an instant. “Are you alright?”
I try to nod my head. “Just… tired. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He holds out our shared water bottle. There’s barely a gulp left in the bottom.
I shake my head. “You take it. I had it last.”
“No.” Newt is serious. “You need it more than I do. Besides…” He hesitates, but doesn’t continue. I’m too scared to ask what he means.
I eventually give it and take the water, the few semi-cold drops helping immensely. I feel my body shutting down, my eyes trying to close.
Newt shifts over to sit beside me. “Go to sleep, love.”
I don’t even try to stay awake. I lean against him and am instantly in darkness.
The next thing I know, I’m startled awake. I don’t know why, as it’s still pretty dark, the air is still cool, and none of the boys have stirred. I wonder briefly if a sound in the night woke me, but I see and hear nothing.
It’s probably just the growing anxiety and disease taking over my brain. I inch away from Newt, desperate not to wake him. He’s been doing so much for me, for everyone. I owe him my life ten times over, and I don’t want to disturb maybe the last peaceful sleep he may get.
I get to my feet, and my eyes stray to Newt’s sleeping face. I have a ridiculous urge to touch his cheek. He looks so soft and pretty and perfect, just laying there.
I force myself to turn around. I walk a minute, until I stumble across a little boulder and sit down, my chin in my hands. This illness inside of me is eating me up. I can feel myself fading away, everything that makes me me slowly dissolve into nothing.
I don’t know how long I sit there, despairing.
Eventually, someone approaches. I can tell by the slightly uneven footsteps who it is even before they speak.
“Hey, Newt.” I have no emotion in my voice, struggling to keep it even.
“Y/n,” he replies, gently sitting beside me. “What’s up, love?”
I shrug. “Nothin’.”
Even though it’s too dark to tell properly, I know he’s got his you-are-such-a-bad-liar face on. “Y/n.”
I sigh. “Okay. Fine. I—“ But the words die in my throat. I can’t seem to find the right way to tell the boy I love more than anything that I’m about to, well, die.
“You have the bloody Flare.” The anger in Newt’s voice takes me by surprise more than the fact that he knows.
“What—“
He slams his hand into the rock we’re sitting on, cutting me off. “It’s not fair!” He hisses. “We have to fix this, we have to—I cant, lose you—“
His voice cracks, and I hear him inhale sharply, like he’s trying not to cry.
That makes me break down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I sob. “I just—I didn’t want… I don’t know. I just don’t want this.”
“Nobody shuckin’ wants the Flare, Y/n.” Newt’s voice is gruff, but almost teasing, a little reminder of what we used to be together. Joking, teasing best friends.
That makes me break down completely, and I cry heartbrokenly into my hands. I feel Newt wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I cry into him, clinging to his shirt like it’s my life.
“Newt,” I manage. “I’m going to die.”
“No you’re not.” His tone is firm. “I’m not gonna lose you. I—I love you, ya dumb shank.”
“What…?” My tears come to a hiccuping stop, and I lift my head to look at him. “You…”
He lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad timing?”
I shake my head, a smile on my face despite it all. “I love you too, idiot.”
“Oh,” Newt laughs. “Oh, okay. Good.”
I lean towards him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Just hold me, please? Help me forget for a while.”
And Newt does exactly that.
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ghostfacd · 6 months
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IF WE DON’T TALK AGAIN, REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU. | CONNOR BEDARD
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“How do you know you’re in love with her?”
The question lingers through Connor’s brain like perfume. Claire had asked him after he had explained what happened in tears at their study session—which, let’s be honest—has turned more into a gossip sess instead.
“What?” Connor peeks his head up from the table, his eyes still glossy. “I just am Claire!”
“Okay, okay.” Claire rolls her eyes, clearly not expecting the boy to be so hostile. “Have you tried reaching out to her?”
“Too scared,” is what Connor mutters out quietly. “What if she rejects my apology?”
“Why are you apologizing again, Connor?” Claire asks, tapping her pen impatiently on the table. “Isn’t she the one who blew up at you because she was jealous you were studying with me; and isn’t she the one who ignored you so she could hang out with your best friend, what was his name? Ryan?”
Claire’s words are harsh, and Connor doesn’t exactly appreciate the way she describes you. His Bells. Well, he still hoped you were his.
“Her feelings are valid, Claire. I need to apologize for calling her insecure, it wasn’t right of me. But I also need her to know that she has to communicate with me in order for us to work.”
“Sounds like you’re putting in all the effort,” Claire retorts. “From what I’ve heard during all our study sessions, you seem to love and appreciate her and she’s just throwing it all out the window because she’s jealous.”
Now Connor was still upset at how the situation between him and you turned out, but Claire was in no position to claim that you weren’t putting in the effort. He knew you loved him; he knew, he just wants you to communicate.
“Stop speaking on things you don’t know Claire,” Connor spits out, visibly annoyed.
“It’s just from what I observe!” Claire exclaims. “If she’s making you this upset, it’s not worth it Connie.”
Normally, the nickname that you would call him would make his heart flutter, but when it came out of Claire Drewmor, he felt disgusted.
“Just stop, stop Claire.” Connor packs up his things, too tired to continue fighting against her little remarks towards his ex—no—current girlfriend. You two haven’t officially broken up yet.
“I was trying to help.” Claire tries to reach out for Connor, only to fail miserably. She almost bites her lip back in embarrassment. “She doesn’t deserve you.”
“Just a few days ago, you were telling me to go get her back.” Connor says, finding it unbelievable that Claire would say such things about you.
“Well that was before I knew she was such a jealous b—” but before Claire could say anything else, Ryan slams his hand on the table, scaring both her and Connor.
“Holy shit Ry!” Connor exclaims, holding in a breath.
“If I hear you talk about Bells like that again, I swear I’ll ruin you.” Ryan warns the girl, “I don’t care if you took me home that day, which thank you by the way, but fuck you bitch!”
“Okay that’s enough!” Connor pulls Ryan away from the scene before people can start to look at them. When they’re far away enough, Ryan gives Connor a hard push.
“You’re a jerk for what you did,” Ryan says, shaking his head in disappointment. “She’s been so upset, y’know? Cramming her head into her textbooks. Theo had to help her get out of her own head.”
That makes Connor’s ears perk up, the unfamiliar name leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. “Theo?”
“Theodore Coppola, some Italian dude who just recently transferred to me and Bells’ Calc class. Apparently, he’s a smartie and a hottie.”
“Okay, now it sounds like you have a crush on this Coppola dude.”
“I do not have a crush on Theodore.” Ryan rolls his eyes. “Me and this girl are talking, not like you would know because you’re too busy touching it up with Claire Drewmor over there.”
Ouch. Ryan’s words felt like a punch in the guts.
“But he might take away your girl if you keep acting like this.”
“Okay, I get it Ry.” Connor sighs. He didn’t like the way Ryan’s words seemed to be true. He was right, he had majorly fucked up with you, and now this cute Italian student waltzed his way into your life?
So he decides to put his pride aside, and get you flowers. Roses were your favorite, he remembered on your first date when you told him the pretty red colors made your heart flutter.
He knocked on your dorm room, expecting to either see you or your roommate open the door, only to frown in dismay when it’s a guy who he doesn’t know.
“Who are you?” Connor asks, already sizing the unknown guy up.
“Uh—I’m Theodore. Were you looking for Y/N or Melissa?”
Melissa was your roommate, and she wasn’t even at your dorm half of the the time. Of course he was looking for you, how dumb was this Theodore guy?
“I’m here for Y/N,”
“Ah,” Theodore opens the door wider, frowning a bit when he takes a closer look at Connor. “You’re Connor Bedard.”
“Yes I am,” Connor replies. “Problem?”
“Not at all,” though Connor’s definitely convinced Theodore doesn’t like him. He could tell from a guy’s perspective that a frown and shake of the head was no good.
“Hey Bells, there’s someone for you!”
Oh great. That made Connor’s heart practically sink to his stomach. This guy was already calling you Bells?
“I’m coming,” he could hear your footsteps coming to the door, then abruptly stopping when you realize it’s him standing there.
“What are you doing here?” You say, in the most bitter tone Connor has ever heard come from your mouth. He doesn’t like it, it makes him feel itchy and uncomfortable.
“This is my cue to leave,” Theodore says, which makes Connor let out a sigh in relief. “Text me if you need anything Bells, seriously.” Then he grabs his backpack, heading out the door in a hurry.
“I ask again Connor, what are you doing here?”
Connor doesn’t know what to say. He’s been practicing all morning about what he was going to say—what he was going to do. But now he’s here, he doesn’t know where to start.
“I—I brought you flowers.” He says, handing you the batch of roses. You don’t take it, and honestly, he doesn’t blame you. He’s been a jerk, and he’s lucky you haven’t slammed the door on him yet.
“I know you aren’t just here to give me roses,” you say, “what do you want? I have assignments I need to do.”
“I’m sorry.” He says. And then everything in his brain just spills out in a flash. “I’m sorry for everything, for the yelling, for calling you insecure, for not seeing it from your point of view. God—Bells—if you still let me call you that, I’m so fucking sorry. I love you, I do, and I’m an idiot for only realizing after the argument. I want to spend my entire life with you, I don’t care if you’re insecure or if you have trouble communicating Bells, I just want you.”
His lips wobble as he finishes, eyes not daring to look at you. “I was ranting to Claire,” he starts again, “and she said things about you that I didn’t like and I won’t repeat them now. But she made me realize that you’re the most important person in my life and that letting you go like that was the most idiotic move I’ve ever made. I know my words aren’t going to change what I said, or what happened, but please Bells, please, I can’t handle not speaking to you. I can’t handle looking at you knowing you overwork yourself in your classes. I want to be there for you Bells, I really fucking do.”
Before he could continue any further, you crush him in a hug, making him drop the bouquet of roses.
“I forgive you Con,” you say, pulling away to cup his face. “I’m sorry too. For not communicating more with you.”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, eyes glassy from the tears. “I love you either way.”
And finally, for the first time in weeks, Connor closes the distance between your lips, capturing you in a kiss.
Maybe Connor Bedard was a total idiot for what he did, but he was your idiot to begin with.
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