#the punch to the gut that ‘he is such a brat.’ is to me. it just paints the exact picture in my mine about why I want him so so bad. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spitgobbler · 2 months

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I ♥︎ Daddy

here is todays shower thoughts blurb since i randomly thought of those ‘yes, daddy?’ panties(pls don’t let me be the only one who remembers them circulating at one point?!)😭 … enjoy my ted talk 🫶🏻

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader

tags: daddy kink into slight ddlg, age gap, leon uses his fingers on you, dirty talk, clothed, aftercare, uhhh yeah!

It was always just a joke, a tease you did to Leon. A brief ‘yes, daddy’ falling from your lips whenever he asked if you ate that day or if you could grab him a beer from the fridge.

You never thought much of it but Leon had lots of thoughts about it. Always made him so fucking hard each time that damn name spilled from those sugary sweet lips of yours.

Had him manspreading even more on the worn couch of his apartment to hide his hard on while accepting the alcoholic drink with an appreciative kiss. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep.

Leon already had a few moments where he felt awkward from the looks the two of you sometimes received while out on dates. The misunderstandings of him being your dad. You never cared when it occurred, responding with an easy “No, he’s my boyfriend,” and moving on with the date without a care in the world.

At least that made him feel better, it reassured him. Leon didn’t exactly date you because you were so much younger. Well, it was a bit flattering he still managed to pull such a pretty young thing at his age but he also loved you for how smart and attentive you were. But he also loved how much you needed him, maybe it was a bit of a complex he developed from his line of work.

He knew another one of your jokes were about to take place when you pull away from his side, his strong thighs feeling empty without your smooth legs laying across them now, and yanking the front door open to retrieve a package.

“What’s got you in a hurry baby?” Leon sat up slightly on the couch with curious look.

Leon was met with a giggle and a mischievous smile, not any proper answer though as you opt to flee off into the bathroom. He’s left scratching his head at your typical silly behavior but he just remains seated back on the couch.

It’s not long before you come back, blocking his view of the TV. Arms crossed and a cute grin pulled up on your face.

He lets a brow raise, “And now you got this bratty look…”

Oh, but he’s quick to watch you as your hands grip the waistband of those adorable fuzzy hello kitty pajama pants you made him buy you.

“Hey, I’m not a brat!” You get caught up easily in protesting against his words, nothing in that sweet little head of yours except Leon and whether or not Mocha and Usahana would get a build-a-bear plush.

Leon simply just gives you a look, as if you’re foolish for trying to deny it. “Uh huh… just continue.”

And there it goes again, that saccharine voice saying ‘yes, daddy’ while you inch those pajama pants down your hips and legs.

Fuck, why is it like a sucker punch straight to the gut every time you call him that? He bites back a groan but his darkening eyes say everything when he sees those light pink panties on you. The words ‘I ♥︎ daddy’ printed in a darker pink right where the cotton fabric clothes your mound and on the back right on the swells of your bottom.

Leon tries to compose himself, he can’t handle these jokes anymore and frankly, it’s feeling like it isn’t a joke anymore.

“Sweetheart, what’s this about?” He asks.

You tilt your head at him, responding like it was no big deal. “Huh? S’just a joke Leon. Like how I tease you and call you daddy because you’re old enough to be my daddy?”

Head falling back against the couch, he groans and mumbles. “Just a joke? Just a joke.”

You’re left feeling confused. Usually he’ll laugh all sarcastic, sometimes even spank your butt in playful retaliation.

The older man lifts his head up, eyes boring into yours then down to those panties again. Before you know it, his strong calloused hand is pulling you onto his muscled thighs, chest against your back.

“Just a joke?” Leon repeats huskily against your neck, keeping your thighs open by resting your legs outside of his.

A shiver runs down your spine and heat invades your cheeks. You try to nod, “Y-Yeah, seen em’ online randomly.”

The rough fingertips of his right hand graze up and down your supple thighs. Back and forth, back and forth like waves. You feel it, that tingle in your core as he teases you. Maybe it’s what you deserve after torturing the poor man.

“You think a man at my age is stupid, baby?” Leon asks softly, his fingers finally touching your clothed cunt. “I may still use a flip phone but I know it wasn’t random, you got an algorithm.”

Your breath hitches at his touch and words. You kick yourself inwardly for being so damn obvious, attempting to whimper out a protest at his statement.

His padded fingers rub at your cunt, the cloth of those silly panties adding delicious friction. The soft pink gusset darkening as your arousal begins to taint them. Just how he wanted.

It’s hard to stay still as his fingers move upward to rub soft circles against your clit. Back pressing against his chest as you squirm in pleasure.

“S’Okay baby, I know dumb little girls like you need a man like me. A daddy to care for them and provide.” Leon cooed, letting himself indulge in the very thing he was at conflict with since it was very clear both of you were on the same page.

Your thighs instinctively try to clench together from pure arousal at his words but they are kept open by his legs. Mind turning mushy at this point and Leon just kept saying all the right things.

He rubs at your needy little cunt with more pressure, sending consistent pulses of heat to your tummy.

“And I’m so very happy to do that for you, doll.” Scratchy stubble brushes against your soft warm cheek as he kisses it. “Make you hold onto your plushie as I take you like a good girl.”

Your hips buck at that and a desperate moan spills out. The older man couldn’t hold back a groan of his own, fingers pressing and rubbing at your panties with fervor.

“Wonder you good you could color in the lines while I spoil your pretty little princess parts.” All of his dirty thoughts are spilling out as he plays with you and it’s sending both of you into a heated frenzy.

Rough messy circles on your clothed clit has you trembling and a lewd squeal rings out. “Daddy, daddy!” Is all you can manage to slur out and it just makes Leon’s cock ache even harder against you.

Leon doesn’t let up though, rubbing and rubbing at that bundle of nerves, spoiling it with his calloused fingers as he turns you into a mess. Showering your needy little pearl with affectionate caresses that set you ablaze on his lap, squirming and gasping as your heart pounds.

Leon allows himself to manspread even more, your legs pried open even wider. “If you love your daddy so much then you’ll be a good girl and show him how much you love him, won’t you?”

Several harsh rubs against your swollen clit has your back arching off his chest and your toes curling. Warmth and shivers flooding your body as you fall over the edge and cum.

“Thank you daddy, thank you.” You blabber out messily.

Panting as your hips buck from the intense waves of ecstasy course through your heated body. Leon guides you through your orgasm and stops before overstimulating you.

Almost instantly he closes his legs just slightly to help ease the strain and make you more comfortable. His affectionate cooing started right away, holding you closely to him as you come down from your high.

“So good for daddy,” Leon mumbled and pressed several kisses to your cheek. “Let’s get you comfy and clean.”

You nodded a bit sluggishly at his words, turning your head to try and kiss him properly which he laughs softly at. Leon lays you down gently on the couch and changes the tv to play something more your speed.

His hands reach for your soaked panties, pulling them down and off your legs, wordlessly pocketing them before making way into the kitchen. He’s not gone for long, coming back with some water and a wet rag.

“Drink this, baby.” The cup of water had a straw in it and he looks at you seriously but you had no problems obeying him.

Leon hums as he carefully cleans up your sensitive parts since he didn’t want you to get oversensitive and feel pain instead.

Now, with everything in order, he sat down and situated you so your head laid on his lap. His hands caressing and playing with your hair soothingly.

“I meant what I said, you know?” His voice a calm rumble. He gives you time to voice your disapproval but when you don’t, he continues. “Think about what you want as a reward for being so good for daddy, for now though, get some rest.”

You respond with a ‘yes, daddy’ and your daddy squeezes your cheeks playfully. The response reminding him of all your jokes but perhaps hints was a better word for it.

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x fem!reader smut

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months

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Angst with a happy ending, older Eddie, reader acting like a brat. Arguments then fluff. 18+, mdni.

🎀✨💞

Sex. Just sex. That's all you were to Eddie. Knowing it and accepting it was hard for you. So much so that you were in one hell of a mood.

And acting like a major brat. At first Eddie took it in his stride, maybe you were getting sick or you didn't sleep that good.

He usually had endless patience when it came to you. You had him wrapped around your little finger yet you didn't even know it. Not that Eddie would admit it but it was true.

Despite that your attitude was beginning to grate on him and he had enough.

Eddie loses patience. "What the fuck is wrong with you today? why are you so bitchy?" He's put up with your sullenness and attitude all day and he's tired of it.

"I'm fine" you snap, there's no way you could tell him what was really wrong. That you were completely in love with him and he only saw you as a fuck buddy.

Then that would be the end of your relationship and you didn't want it to end. You had grown attached to Eddie so quickly, you'd be heartbroken if your relationship ended.

"Obviously you're not fine if you've been in a mood all day. What the hell is wrong? Clearly I spoil you too fucking much because you're acting like a spoiled brat" tears pool in your eyes and you will them away.

"So now I'm just an annoyance to you?" You question him and he shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.

"I give up. You're twisting my words" you look away feeling your heart sink at his words. Maybe you should just tell him? Rip off the band aid or so to speak.

Unfortunately your mouth runs away with you before you can think about it. "You're the one who called me a brat" he rolls his eyes, folds his arms across his chest and gives you a dark look.

"Because you are! From the moment you woke up to now, all I've had is you bitching in my ear even when I asked you what is wrong, you don't answer"

Anxiety claws in your veins and you don't know what to say to salvage the situation. You shouldn't have been so moody, you know that but the argument had pretty much spiralled out of control.

"Well why don't I just leave then if I'm annoying you so much?" you snap and gather your clothes. He shrugs and his body language turns cold, colder then you've ever seen.

"Maybe you should" the tears flow freely at his tone and you kick yourself as you rush downstairs. You may have just ruined everything.

You were so scared that admitting your feelings to Eddie would mean you would lose him, and it was killing you keeping your feelings a secret.

Turns out that maybe you had just lost him anyway.

...

After the argument with Eddie you feel even worse and plan to cuddle in bed and shut off from the world just for a little bit.

Eddie had other plans. It isn't long before he's at your house, quietly letting himself in and making his way upstairs. He hated seeing you cry, it was like a punch to the gut and he was anxious to make it up to you.

He was also very keen to get to the root of the problem and why you were acting out so much today. Something was bothering you for you to act this way. He wanted to find out what it was.

Your quiet sobs reach him and it tears at his heart as he enters your room and finds you curled up on the bed. Hiding away.

Tenderly Eddie stokes your hair and you turn to face him. He wipes your tears away and sighs.

"You didn't have to come over so late. I know you're working early tomorrow" you murmur and he softens as he lays beside you.

"I'm my own boss. I make my own start time sweetheart. I had to see you. Couldn't sleep without my princess beside me could I?" He settles beside you and you smile.

"I'm sorry, I was bitchy. I didn't mean to be" he kisses your hair and nods accepting the apology.

"I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled at you or called you a brat. Please tell me what's wrong? You're obviously anxious about something" you bite your lip and he waits for you to say.

"I'm scared" you whisper to him and he feels heartbroken at this. He never wants you to feel scared or that you can't talk to him, you can talk to him about anything.

"Princess, you can tell me anything. You never have to be scared of telling me anything" he holds you close and feels you relax. You still hide your face in his shoulder as you work up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm in love with you, I know you don't feel the same way but I just wanted you to know. It's killing me not saying anything"

Eddie is stunned. This is what got you so worked up, that you were in love with him? Did you think he'd reject you?

Jesus h Christ, did you not realise that he was so in love with you too? He'd never felt this way about anyone. It scared him how deep his feelings were but he has been planning to tell you for ages.

He just wanted it to be the right time and be romantic. Turns out he had waited too long and you were thinking he didn't love you.

That wouldn't do at all.

"I'm so in love with you. How can you not see that?" Eddie caresses your cheek and you feel all of your fears slip away. You snuggle into him and peer up with pure joy on your face.

"I love you too Eddie"

All of this angst and shit could have been avoided if you had both just spoken up sooner. Both of you make a vow that night to always communicate your feelings.

But first a lot of making up was required ;)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson

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thebearer · 9 months

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just thinking about brat tamer!lip, like he would literally fuck you until you can’t even think or do anything but whining and he'd be so mean about it, i love hiiiim <3 could u write something like that?

brat tamer! lip is so special to me bc he's so real for that lol.

minors dni 18+

"Why you gotta be so fuckin' mean, huh?" Lip grunted, one hand on the headboard to steady himself, the other tangled in your hair, yanking until your scalp screamed.

"Just gotta run that fuckin' mouth, huh? That's all you do? Just fuckin' run that mouth." A particularly hard thrust annunciated his irritation, leaving you gasping, a gut punch of a feeling to your cervix that had you breathless.

He was being mean, so mean, you'd made a point to tell him that too. You supposed you deserved it, for how mean you'd been earlier.

"What? You got nothin' to say now? No mean ass comments? C'mon, baby, let me hear you. You were so fuckin' loud and obnoxious earlier." Lip sneered, pulling back on your hair so you whined, pulling you into his chest. His hips didn't stop, hands moving to hold you lightly by your neck, just enough pressure to have you clenching and whimpering.

"You gonna say you're sorry t'me?" Lip rasped, nose pressed to your temple, hands snaking up your throat to grab your jaw, pull your face towards his. "Say you're sorry."

"'m n-not, sorry." You whined, legs wobbling when his hips snapped into you, sending you reeling all over again. "You were the one ignoring me-oh!"

"I was working, you fuckin' brat." Lip sneered, fingers curling and pressing into your jaw. "How about I come to your fuckin' job and start actin' all horny and desperate? See how you like it, huh?"

You pouted, satisfied that you'd gotten him so flustered and furious. "You'd like that though. I know you would. You'd like it if I came in and-and distracted you like this? Desperate." Lip growled.

"N-No, 'm not." You whined, your voice lilting and nasally, that pitch that had his abs clenching, waves of pleasure shooting through his own body.

"You are." Lip huffed, his breath hot on the shell of your ear, the ghosting of a whine trailing. "Say you are."

"No." You whimpered, hips grinding down to meet his thrusts, desperate for friction. You were already so close.

"Say it, or you don't get to cum." Lip commanded, yanking your jaw towards him so you faced him, noses brushing. "Say you were actin' desperate or I stop. I'll cum either way, but you... fuck, you won't get to cum."

You knew he was being serious. He'd jack himself in front of you, probably tie you up and make you watch while he told you what a bad girl you were. You huffed, bratty and petulant, making Lip suck his teeth.

"I-I was..." You leaned against his chest, head lolling back in pleasure when his free hand rolled your nipples. "I was desperate." You muttered, eyes closed, refusing to look at him when you grumbled the phrase.

"Look at me." Lip growled. "You know better, look at me."

You blinked, looking at him through hazy, blurred vision, lust drunk and so close to your own orgasm it was painful. "I-I was desperate, Lip, please." You whined, lip jutting out in the perfect pout.

His eyes flickered down to your lip, teeth baring and resisting the urge to bite your lip. Roll it between his teeth, pull it so he could hear you whine and cry. His cock twitched at the thought, hammering into you.

"Say you were a bad girl." Lip commanded, his free hand gliding down to your mound, fingers ghosting over your puffy lips, purposely avoiding your clit when he knew you were so desperate for him to touch you there- knew it would send you over the edge. "Say it."

"I-I was... Iwasabadgirl." You sobbed, his pointer finger pressing on your clit, rubbing just enough to have you bucking in his arms, legs shaking and flooding his cock, overtook by your own orgasm.

Lip held you while you shook, slow rocks of his hips until your eyes were glassy, body still shuddering with aftershocks. "There she is. There's my bad fuckin' girl." Lip grinned, lying you against the pillows, sprawled out and whimpering.

His hips ground slow against you, feeling your spasming clenches, hearing the wet squelch that filled the room. "Can you be good f'me? Lay there and let me finish?" Lip tilted his head to the side, tapping your cheek lightly to look at him, hovered above you with piercing eyes and flushed cheeks.

You nodded brainlessly, muttering some sort of agreed nonsense. Lip snorted lightly. "Good girl. 'm close, alright? Just give me a sec."

#thebearer #thebearerblurbs #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher x fem!reader #lip gallagher x female reader #lip gallagher smut #shameless #lip gallagher blurb #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher x you smut #brat tamer! lip gallagher #brat tamer! lip gallagher x brat!reader #dom!lip gallagher #dom!lip gallagher x sub!reader #shameless us #lip x reader #lip x you

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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crushmeeren · 16 days

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Hiii I hope you’re doing well!! I was wondering if you could write Hitoshi shinsou x reader of him absolutely destroying our guts 😊

Thank you!!!

-🐞

• Everyone is 18+/aged up — scroll or block if that bothers you. •

Hello friend! I am doing well and I can definitely write this. 😜 I hope you enjoy! 💕

P.S. I automatically write it as fem reader unless specified, but I did try to refrain from using things like good girl, pretty girl, etc. because I wasn’t sure. I did however use female anatomy. 💜

How Shinsou eats you out.

Shinsou Hitoshi Destroying Your Guts

You slam the front door shut so violently the frame rattles, threatening to crack under pressure.

“Everything alright baby?” Hitoshi’s smokey timbre calls out from the kitchen. He was forewarned about your god awful day out on patrol, so he’s treading carefully.

Your fingernails sink into your palms, teeth creaking as you round the corner to your kitchen. There’s a fury boiling in your chest that’s about to overflow.

“What the fuck do you think? You know how to read, don’t you? Because I already texted you what happened,” you bite. Your eyes narrow as your lip curls upwards.

Silence hangs heavily in the air for a few beats.

Hitoshi’s face remains impassive as he stands across the island from you. Leisurely, he folds his arms over his chest, arching one singular eyebrow at your bitchy tone.

“Do you really want to walk down this road tonight?” Hitoshi may as well be exhaling frost as he speaks.

Apparently, you do.

When Hitoshi bends you over the side of your bed five minutes later, you’re entirely naked.

He’s got your arms bent behind your back in an uncomfortable position as Hitoshi ties your wrists together with part of his capture weapon.

It’s tight — you can barely wiggle your fingers, heartbeat thudding in your fingertips.

A brutal swirl of exasperation and anticipation churns in your stomach. Sticky sweat begins gathering in the valley between your tits as you fidget against the blankets.

“Hitoshi!” You cry out, sucking in air through your teeth. “That hurts, you jerk!” He snickers as he wrenches your bound wrists upwards.

“You’ve been way too much of a damn brat tonight for me to care about that. Now, I’m gonna fuck that shitty attitude out of you,” he says hotly, pressing a hand down in between your shoulder blades, shoving you further down into the bed.

You don’t speak, clenching your jaw as frustration forces a hot flush to pour over your cheeks. The material of your current restraints dig annoyingly into your skin when you flex your wrists.

Hitoshi’s palm rains down on your ass, a sharp sting radiating up to your tailbone. He made it his mission for that one to hurt.

A muffled scream of his name punches out of you into the sheets below.

“What is it sweetheart?” He snarls, teasing the tip of his cock over the lips of your pussy. Parting you open with ease. “Can’t handle the punishment for being so fucking rude to me?”

Your breath hitches, goosebumps littering your arms. Your clit pulses, pussy eager to swallow his cock whole.

“Well?” He urges, yanking your forearms backwards until your spine arches, freeing your face from the blankets.

Your shoulders ache, throbbing dully and then suddenly a switch flips, all traces of your previous rage draining from your veins.

“I’m sorry Hitoshi!” You sob, voice scratchy and breaking. You shove your hips backwards, trying to get him inside you.

“That’s it pretty baby, good job,” he purrs, gifting you mercy and completely filling you with his cock in one effortless motion.

Hitoshi starts fucking you as if he’s attempting to carve a space out inside your guts just for him. Hips bouncing off your ass until your muscles are going taut, slick pussy suffocating his cock.

He fucks you until you’re a gooey, brain melted mess beneath him. Encouraging you to keep cumming for him, moaning when you curse his name.

Afterwards, once your chest stops heaving and your soul has returned to your body, you’re infinitely grateful for a boyfriend like Hitoshi.

“Hitoshi, thank you. I really needed that,” you mumble, throat raw as sandpaper. Hitoshi hums as he swiftly works to free your hands.

“No worries baby. I’ll fuck you into your place anytime you need it,” he teases, tilting his head back in laughter as you punch his shoulder halfheartedly.

Your wretched day is entirely forgotten as you climb into bed that night.

#mha smut #shinsou hitoshi smut #hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou smut #shinsou smut #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #hitoshi shinso x y/n #mha x reader #mha x y/n #aged up characters

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azzo0 · 3 months

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Pickpocket

Summary: You've successfully managed to pickpocket a fortune. While you're fantasising about the things you could do with so much money, you're dragged away by the royal guards to face the wrath of Prince Katsuki.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader

A/N: I wanted to complete the story within this chapter, but it got too long. See you in the next chapter!

Part 1; Part 3

You opened the coin bag you had pickpocketed from the mysteriously covered stranger, your jaw dropping to the floor when you saw it was filled to the brim with gold coins. It looked like you had just stolen someone's life savings.

Your parents and siblings knew that apart from the hunts you went on and did not make much from, you often went out to pickpocket, something you often got scoldings for. But the few extra silvers that you managed to get lightened the weight on your parents' shoulders to some extent. It was usually just a few coppers and silvers you stole. How were you going to explain this fortune you pickpocketed?

While you were in the middle of counting the coins, your youngest brother decided to come into your room, gaping at the gold on your desk, "Y/n, what is that?! Did you just hunt a super rare creature or something?"

"You know the only thing available in these forests is rabbits and birds or deer if we're lucky," a mischievous glint flashed in your eyes, "I pickpocketed this."

"You're unbelievable," He shook his head, picking up a coin, which you snatched, "With that much gold, we'll be able to eat three times a day, buy a horse and a carriage, new clothes and a whole castle!"

You smiled at the youngest. It wasn't enough to tend to all his dreams, but it still made you happy knowing you could at least feed your family and get a few needed household items. However, your fantasies were short-lived when you heard a series of heavy knocks on the front door.

"I'll go see who it is." You went to see who it was to find your father had already answered the door. You froze when you saw five hulking royal guards talking to your father. You didn't need to step forward and talk to them to know this was about you.

Who was the person you pickpocketed? Perhaps a noble or someone close to the royal family? Sweat rolled down your neck when one of the guards caught your eye. He matched in past your father, squinting at your face, "Oi, she's the one we're looking for!"

"Me? What could I have possibly done?" You innocently batted your eyelashes.

"Don't pretend like you don't know why. You stole from the prince." The guard spat.

"Y/n? Is this true?" Your father asked. Your face drained of colour. That person you stole from was the prince? You even insulted him! God, you were in a shit ton of trouble.

"I found the coins!" One of the guards exclaimed from behind you, coming out of your room with your brother, hitting the guards back with closed fists to give the money back.

"Stay off, brat. This is not yours. It belongs to the royal family." The guard kicked your brother in the gut, sending him flying away. You growled at him, pouncing at him with a fist ready.

"Don't you dare touch him!" You yelled, swinging your fist at his face. Before the punch could land, another guard kicked you in the side, sending you crashing into a wall.

"Now you're in trouble not only for stealing but also for trying to harm a royal guard," One of the guards took you by the arm, pulling you to your feet, "Prince Katsuki will see to you personally."

"Like I give a rat's ass!" You spat, thrashing as the guard held your hands behind you. Another guard tried getting your legs to stop flailing but got his jaw bruised instead. Your family was huddled together in a corner, timidly watching you try to pry away from the guards.

"Get off me!" You yelled as you got dragged away and got tied onto a horse with your mouth and hands tied so the guards wouldn't have to listen to your constant yelling and complaints.

Once at the ginormous castle, two guards held you by your arms, dragging you inside. You shuddered when you felt the cold from the marble floor travel up your spine. You must've lost your shoes when the guards yanked you around.

"Mind your manners when in the presence of the prince." One of the guards said, his fingers digging into the flesh of your arms. You shot him a glare, trying to free your arm from his grip. What was the point of bruising your arms when your hands were already tied behind you?

The doors to the throne hall were opened, and the guards dragged you inside, forcing you to your knees so you were bowing low. When they let your head lift from the floor, you dared to look up.

There he was, Prince Katsuki, sitting on the prince's chair beside the King's and Queen's throne, blood-red eyes mindlessly boring into you. All that you heard about the prince was true-- stunning crimson eyes, spiky ash-blonde hair, and flawless skin. Behind his lethal beauty was evident rage and fury.

Bakugo could see your gaze wavering between the floor and him as you tried to keep that sassy and brave front. Your hair was in a mess, and your clothes were dirty from being pushed and kicked around. He told his guards not to use force, and here you were, looking like you fell into a wrestling pit. The guards standing behind you didn't look any better, with scratches and bruises on their faces.

"Your Royal Highness," One of the guards behind you said, "This woman not only stole from you but also put up a fight with us."

"Care to explain?" Bakugo rasped.

"Your guard kicked my ten-year-old brother in the stomach. Was I supposed to stand and watch?" You snarled at the prince, your teeth bared. Bakugo's eyes shifted to the guards, demanding an answer.

"Y-Your Highness, the child was clinging to my back and-"

"So you kicked him." Bakugo cut him off, standing up and coming down the steps that lead to the thrones, stopping in front of you, "Get out, all of you. I'll deal with you later."

"But, Your High-"

"Now."

You gulped once the guards were gone, and although you hated them, you wished they'd stay since being alone with the prince made you feel like you were going to get slaughtered like a lamb. You held his gaze from your position on the floor, not letting your fear slip through your eyes.

"Stand." He ordered.

"Are one-word sentences all you know to speak, princeling?" You smiled at him with sickly sweet poison. "I really like it on the floor. It's comfortable."

You let out a gasp when he suddenly pulled you to your feet, the fabric of your shirt balled in his fist, his maroon eyes dangerously close, "Watch who you're talkin' to, sweetheart," he growled, his voice reverberating in his chest, "I could throw you in prison forever, and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it."

"Must be fun being a spoiled prince, eh." Bakugo looked down at your devilish grin. Weren't you afraid of him one bit? Prison was the place every little thief like you went to, but something about you stirred amusement and another mysterious feeling deep within him. It wasn't every day he got to see a brat like you roast a prince right at his face and take on five guards at once.

"Besides," you went on. "I'm going to go to prison anyway. I might as well strut in there with a show."

"You have some nerve speaking to me like that," He scowled, letting your shirt go, "You ain't going to prison."

"Huh?"

"Yer servin' three months at the castle." He said. "And if I find you snooping around and stealing, I'm chopping your ugly fingers off."

"I'm not scrubbing your dishes and sweeping your damn floors." You scoffed. "Throw me in prison instead."

"Does that pretty little mouth of yours ever shut up, or does it have a fucking answer to everything?" Bakugo glared at you. You had some guts rejecting his orders like he was some commoner you'd known all your life.

"I'm not working at the castle, and that's final." You said firmly.

A hint of fear flashed in your eyes when Bakugo bared his teeth at you, approaching you with slow strides. You kept backing away until your back was pressed into the doors behind you, your chest tightening when you saw his hand rest on the hilt of the sword dangling from his side.

He lowered his head to your level, roughly grabbing your chin and making you look into his eyes. When you tried to shift to the side, he put an elbow on the door, trapping you. Looking into his deep red eyes, you felt your heartbeat quicken, knots forming in your stomach.

"I'm the one who decides what your punishment is. Do not forget that," he purred into your ear. You almost shivered. His voice was supposed to be scaring you, not making your heart race, "Either you work here for three months or get your hands cut off."

He pulled away, smirking down at you satisfyingly. He could tell you were flustered as you glared daggers at him, "Am I clear?"

Your gaze shifted down to the floor, "Yes."

He called for the servants to take you to the servant quarters and get the filth cleaned off you. You sat in an unnecessarily big tub filled with warm water as the other servants scrubbed your body raw. You blankly let them, still trying to process what on earth had just happened. After your bath, you were forced into a night suit that would have been considered low quality for the royals and nobles, but it was more expensive than anything you ever owned.

"What kind of punishment is this?" You muttered, lying on the comfortable bed in your new room.

It was a very big punishment.

It all started going down from the moment you woke up. The head maid scolded you for not waking up early enough and rushed you into the kitchen, where you got yelled at by the chef for not washing the dishes quickly enough.

"What are you even good at?!" He yelled, pushing you aside when you somehow managed to burn the stew he made. All you were supposed to do was stand and watch it.

"I'm good at hunting." You mumbled.

"Too bad you're not here for hunting," He gave you a sour look as he diced up the ingredients to remake the stew.

After the dishes were done, you were handed a mop and a bucket to sweep the great hall. You took a deep breath, stepping into the thankfully empty great hall. It was just mopping the floor. You wouldn't mess this up, right?

As you mopped the floor, you tried convincing yourself this was better than rotting in the prison for who knows how long. You just wanted to go back to bed and let your poor back rest, but it was still only the afternoon. Sighing, you stepped towards the water bucket to dip the mop inside, accidentally knocking the bucket in the process. You deadpanned, tears forming in your eyes. This castle brought nothing but bad luck.

You cringed when the soapy water soaked into the long red carpet that led up to the King's and Queen's thrones. You turned around in horror when you heard the doors to the great hall open, slipping and falling to your ass. The fact that it was the prince that opened the doors only made things worse.

"Are you okay there?" A red-haired man asked, stepping forward.

"M' fine." You mumbled, slipping down again when you tried standing again.

"Looks like someone's having a great time," The prince snickered. If he wasn't a prince you'd have slapped him in the face to wipe away that mean smirk. You scowled at him, stopping when you saw a hand in front of your face. It was the red-haired man looking down at you with a warm grin. You noticed he had interesting sharp teeth. You put your hand in his, letting him hoist you up.

He inspected your face for a second and then looked at Bakugo, raising an eyebrow. You were the very same girl Kirishima saw bump into Bakugo yesterday. He was sure Bakugo said that you were a pickpocket, then what were you doing here in the servant's attire?

"Go get someone else to clean it since you clearly can't," Bakugo ordered. You clenched your jaw at him, grabbing a fistful of your dress. Why did he have to be so mean and harsh with his words? You would have loved to hit his head with the mop but knew better than to give in to your intrusive thoughts. You stormed past him and got some rags to clean up the mess you made.

Once Kirishima was sure you were out of earshot, he turned to Bakugo, "Why is she here, prince?"

"Serving three months in the castle for stealing, hurting five guards and being a brat," Bakugo replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Couldn't you have put her to prison instead?"

"Tch, are you trying to tell me what to do?"

"No, my prince."

Bakugo sighed, turning his back to Kirishima, eyes plastered to the floor, "Her family has been struggling with basic necessities," he said after a moment of silence. "I learnt that her father had a fabric business before the war started, but his shop burnt down during the war. He hasn't been working ever since."

Kirishima blinked at Bakugo, baffled he had delved so deep into someone's background. "A lot of people are still suffering even though it's been years." He said.

"Yeah," Bakugo agreed. "She lives in a pretty shitty neighbourhood, too, now."

"Is there something that can be done to help?" Kirishima asked.

"I've already done what I could." Bakugo grunted, "They ain't gotta worry about rations. I talked to Father about it, and he agreed to send monthly rations to the entire neighbourhood."

"That's nice," Kirishima smiled. He had a feeling you not only stole Bakugo's money at the weekend market yesterday but also accidentally stole his heart.

Tags: @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @zaiban2989

#fantasy bakugou #bakugo #bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x you

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doumadono · 11 months

Text

Carrying his child - Dabi x Reader

Warnings: reader is pregnant, Dabi is rather rude at first, angst Synopsis: you set up a meeting with Dabi to reveal that you're carrying his child Requested by: anonymous

MASTERLIST

You stood nervously at the top of the hill, waiting for Dabi to arrive. The wind rustled through the tall grass, and the distant sounds of the city faded away, leaving behind a quiet serenity. This was the place you had chosen to break the news to him — a place where you could speak without interruptions or prying eyes.

After what felt like an eternity, you spotted a figure approaching in the distance. It was Dabi. As he drew nearer, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. Dabi was known for his rough demeanor and cold attitude, and you knew that telling him you were pregnant would not be well received.

"About time you showed up," he grumbled, his voice laced with annoyance. "What's so important that you had to drag me out here, doll?"

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I need to talk to you, Dabi. It's something important."

He crossed his arms, a scowl forming on his face. "Well, spit it out then. I don't have all day, babe."

You hesitated, gathering your thoughts before finding the courage to speak. "I'm pregnant," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dabi's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing into a glare. "And what the hell does that have to do with me?" he snapped.

His harsh words hit you like a punch to the gut, tears welling up in your eyes. "Dabi, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "I thought you deserved to know. This... this is your child too."

He stared at you, his anger momentarily giving way to confusion. Slowly, the weight of your words seemed to sink in, and his expression hardened. "Mine?" he repeated, his voice cold and distant.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that streamed down your face. "Yes, Dabi. We're going to have a baby."

Dabi's scowl deepened, and he took a step back, distancing himself from you. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted some brat tying me down?" he growled.

Your heart shattered at his callous words, and you fought back sobs that threatened to escape your throat. "I didn't plan for this either, Dabi," you managed to say through trembling lips. "But it's happening, and I thought you deserved to know."

He sneered at you, his anger seeping through every word. "Deserved to know? You think I care about your damn feelings? You think I care about some bastard child? We had some nice sex, yes, but that's it. I've never signed up for starting a goddamn family."

Unable to bear his cruelty any longer, the floodgates burst open, and tears streamed down your face. "How can you say that?" you sobbed, your chin trembling. "This is our child, Dabi. It's a part of you too. You won't change it. It already happened! How can you be so cruel... I've given upon everything for you!"

Dabi's eyes widened as he watched your tears flow, and for a brief moment, a flicker of regret flashed in his gaze. His hardened facade crumbled, revealing a mixture of anger, confusion, and a hint of remorse. Dabi stared at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly. The weight of his harsh words hung heavily in the air, and he could feel the pain radiating from you. The memories of your intimate, passionate nights together flashed through his mind, reminding him of the connection you shared. He couldn't deny the truth. Deep down, he knew it was his child. A mix of emotions battled within him — fear, regret, and a twinge of guilt. He had always been guarded, keeping others at arm's length. Love was a foreign concept to him, and the thought of being responsible for another life terrified him. But as he glanced up at you, your tear-streaked face and trembling figure, something shifted inside him. You had always been there, standing by his side, unwavering in your loyalty and love. He knew that you were faithful, not out of fear, but because you genuinely cared for him. Dabi took a step closer, his voice softer this time, tinged with remorse. "I... I reacted poorly. I know I did," he admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "It's just... I'm not used to this. I'm not used to someone caring for me like you do. It's just... Fuck. It's too much to comprehend at once."

Your sobs began to subside, replaced by a glimmer of hope in your eyes. "Dabi," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and forgiveness. "I understand. It's a lot to take in."

He reached out tentatively, his fingers grazing against your cheek, wiping away the remnants of tears. "You deserve better than what I gave you just now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... our child... they deserve better, too."

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself. "Dabi, I understand that you're scared and unsure," you said, your voice trembling but determined. "But this is happening, and our child deserves better than this. They deserve to know their father."

Dabi looked away, his jaw clenched, struggling to find the right words. The weight of his initial reaction seemed to sink deeper within him, battling against the emerging realization of the life growing inside you.

"I never thought... I never thought I could be a father," he finally admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I've done terrible things, you know that, and I don't know if I can be what this child needs. I'm a fucking monster, certainly not a role model.."

You took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch his scared forearm. "Dabi, nobody is perfect," you said softly. "But that doesn't mean you can't change or be there for our child. It's not too late to start over, to become the father you never had."

His eyes met yours, a mix of pain and uncertainty reflecting in their depths. "You really think I can do it? Be a father?"

"I believe in you," you whispered, your voice filled with conviction. "I've seen glimpses of the man behind the mask, the person who cares beneath the rough exterior. And I know deep down, there's a part of you that wants to protect and love our child."

Dabi's defenses began to crumble further as he took in your words. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "I... I don't know if I deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But if there's a chance... a chance to make things right, to give our child a better life, then maybe... maybe I can try."

A glimmer of relief and gratitude washed over you, and tears of a different kind welled up in your eyes. "Thank you, Dabi," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Thank you for giving us a chance."

Dabi's grip tightened on your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of newfound tenderness. "I won't promise it'll be easy," he said, his voice steady. "But I'll try my damn hardest to be there for you and our child."

A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, and you rested your hand on top of his. "That's all I can ask for, Touya," you replied within a whisper. "We'll face this together, and we'll create a better future for our family."

Dabi's eyes widened as he heard you call him by his true name. It sounded like music to his ears, hearing you whisper "Touya" with such love and tenderness.

Tears of relief streamed down your face as you leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against his lips. It was a silent promise, a symbol of the new path you were embarking on together.

As you stood there on the hillside, a sense of hope began to replace the initial fear and uncertainty. The road ahead would undoubtedly be challenging, but with each passing moment, you both felt a growing connection, a shared commitment to love and protect the life you had created together. And as the wind whispered through the grass and the city lights twinkled in the distance, you knew that despite the rough exterior, Dabi's heart held the potential to embrace the love and responsibility that awaited him.

#dabi #dabi angst #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #dabi x you #my hero academia #bnha dabi #bnha angst #pregnant!reader #toya todoroki #touya todoroki angst #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you

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weareapackofstrays · 4 months

Text

A New Kind of Love: Chapter I

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 1,958

Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: This is my first fic ever to be posted and will likely not be great, but gotta start somewhere, right? I would love any feedback or thoughts (but please be nice or I might cry).

Song that was on repeat while I wrote this and thus became the title

Chapter I: Introduction Next

“Fuck, right there!” you shout as your nails dig into the hand gripping your waist.

“Like that?” Kyle, your usual drunken mistake, confirms.

“Yes! Ahhh,” you can feel your high fast-approaching.

“God, you look so filthy like this, sweetheart! Gonna fill you up.” Your dress is pushed up to your waist while your breasts spill over the top exposing them to the cool air. Kyle admires your bare ass jiggling with each of his thrusts.

You roll your eyes at your partner’s words and do your best to focus on your orgasm. It’s not that you hate the guy, you just couldn’t really stand him either. He was a frat boy and far from your type, but you were both drunk, horny, and he always happened to be conveniently around when you needed some attention. So fast forward to now, where you are currently shoved against the door of the upstairs bathroom of whoever’s house this was getting your guts rearranged.

“I’m gonna come!” you announce.

“Yeah, come for me, baby! Come all over my big fat cock,” he preens as he slams into you.

“Kyle, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” He laughs while his tip kisses your sweet spot perfectly. You moan at the blissful sensation. His free hand grabs hold of your hair and yanks your head back suddenly. The unexpected force causes a groan to escape from your throat. Kyle begins to pick up the pace and gives your right ass cheek a loud smack. Just as the searing pain registers, you finally come with a gasp. He shoves your face further into the door as he works towards his own high. After a few more ruts, he empties himself into the condom and finally pulls out.

“We gotta stop meeting like this, sweetheart.” Kyle smirks as he buttons his jeans and adjusts his belt.

You pull up your panties and face him, “This is the last time, Kyle.”

“Sure it is, babe.” He gives you a wink and an air kiss as he turns to the sink to wash his hands. Even you could hear the lack of confidence in your voice. Ignoring his comment, you fix your makeup and hair, tug at the base of your dress one last time, and exit the bathroom. The two of you descend the stairs back into the chaos of the party. The music is thumping in your skull and the five hunch punches you threw back earlier are starting to get to you. You want to leave.

Kyle leans, more like stumbles, into your side and shouts, “Hey, I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?” You instinctually cringe away from his close proximity and loud voice.

“Sure,” you say with a nod. After Kyle disappears into the crowd, you push your way through the partygoers and find the front door.

Finally outside, your ears take a moment to adjust to the silence. It was dead quiet outside with scarcely anyone around, save for a few people huddled together enjoying a smoke. You take a deep breath and let the cold air sting your lungs. A breeze cuts through you and you immediately regret your choice in outfit tonight. Luckily, your house was a short walk away. You step onto the paved sidewalk and can feel your legs wobble slightly. Your heels were also not the best choice for a walk. Okay, Y/n, focus, you think to yourself. Taking a few more tentative steps, you find your stride and head home.

You moved into the basement apartment of an old brick house from the 30’s at the start of the semester. The main floors above belonged to some guys who you rarely ever saw and, honestly, probably couldn’t pick them out of a crowd if your life depended on it. You had only had a few conversations with one of the guys, Jisung was his name…you think. He introduced himself a few days after you moved in while you were checking the mail on the front porch.

“You must be our new neighbor,” you jump, taken aback by the sudden announcement. Turning to face the source of the voice, you see a brunette boy with round cheeks looking at you with doe eyes. He reaches his hand out to greet you.

“Yeah…hi,” you say shyly as you take hold of his hand.

“I’m Jisung.” He flashes you a gummy smile.

“Y/n.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” he says as he releases your hand.

“You too.”

“If you ever need a cup of sugar or a good weed guy-” Jisung waggles his eyebrows mischievously. “We’re just a few steps and a knock away.” He gives you a salute before going back inside the house. Well, he was adorable, you thought. You only ever saw his roommates in passing and had only exchanged a few words with Jisung since, but he was always kind to you.

As you finally approach the house, you reach inside your pocketbook to grab a cigarette and lighter. Hands shaking, you repeatedly click the lighter, but it refuses to work.

“Shit,” you quietly say to yourself. You were about to give up when a figure steps out from the shadows and alights a bright flame before your eyes. After a moment of adjusting to the darkness you see a man standing beside you, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. You look at him bewildered, before you dip your head down. He holds his hand in front of you to protect the flame from the breeze. You take a drag of the cigarette and slowly exhale the smoke from the side of your mouth to avoid blowing in his face.

“Thanks.” He simply nods in response. You take a moment to look him over while he tries to light his own cigarette. He was broad, but lean with dark brown hair. He was also handsome, like super handsome. What the hell? Have you seen him around before? Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his, right? He furrows his brows as he leans in closer to his flame. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms revealing a few large tattoos. You take note of his protruding veins and involuntarily gulp at the sight. He finally lights the cigarette and takes a puff before facing you. You peel your eyes from his toned arms to meet his. The man quietly smirks as he catches your roaming eyes.

“I’m Lee Minho, by the way. I don’t think we ever officially met.” He gives you a lazy wave rather than a handshake.

“Y/n,” you wave back and internally cringe at yourself. “You’re a roommate of Jisung’s?”

“Yeah, I live,” he turns around and points to the top window on the right. “Right there.”

“Nice,” was all you could think to say. You look away and take another puff of your cigarette while rubbing your temple. The consequences of tonight’s actions were swiftly starting to catch up.

Minho stirs you from your thoughts. “I didn’t know you smoked.” You’re taken aback by his assumption. He notices your confusion and clears his throat. “I just mean I never see you out here,” he says awkwardly. “And I assume you wouldn’t in that tiny basement.”

You consider momentarily whether or not he was insulting your apartment before speaking. “I..I don’t usually. Honestly, just socially or when I’m drunk.”

He slowly raises his eyebrows as he exhales some smoke. “Are you drunk right now?” His face furrows again. You wonder if that is his natural state.

“Maybe just a smidge,” you make a pinching gesture with your fingers and lightly giggle.

His face turns serious. “You shouldn’t be walking around this late at night by yourself, especially if you’re intoxicated. Something could happen to you.” You’re amused by his interest in your safety.

“Yes, daddy,” you say back a little too sarcastically.

Something shifts in his eyes though you can’t quite make out his expression. You feel his eyes bore into you despite part of his face being hidden by shadow. You, on the other hand, are at a disadvantage as the beams from the street lamp illuminate your face. Minho can see the pink rapidly forming on your cheeks. Trying not to cower at his intense stare, you hold his gaze for a minute before he finally breaks the tension.

“Do you normally dress like this in the middle of November?” He gestures to your tight, short black dress.

“I was coming from a party.”

“I gathered.” You scoff at his attitude. “Still, seems a bit reckless walking around without a coat.”

“What are you? The weather police?” You stand up a bit straighter and cross your arms.

“No-” You cut him off before he can continue.

“Does the way I dress bother you?” Officially annoyed, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Maybe you are more drunk than you originally realized.

“No.” Minho’s expression remains emotionless as he can see the anger rise in you. Taking a few wobbly steps towards him, you point your finger into his chest and ignore how solid he feels beneath to continue your beration.

“I can dress however I want regardless of the weather. I can also casually smoke a cigarette or drink a few drinks whenever I want and I don’t need anyone judging my actions, let alone a man I just met 5 minutes ago.” You slightly sway as you retreat from him. Minho gently places a hand on your right shoulder to steady you. The warmth from his touch sends a shiver down your spine through to your core.

“Okay, princess. Whatever you say.” You wrinkle your nose at the pet name and he notices your disapproval.

“Okay, princess,” you say back in a mimicking tone.

“Do I need to help you get to your apartment?”

“I’m fine,” you brush his hand off your shoulder with your own and feel your stomach flutter at the touch. You curse yourself internally for being so affected by this annoying handsome man.

“There are stairs and you’re in,” he looks down at your 4 inch heels and points. “Those.”

The audacity of this man right now. “Now he judges my choice in shoes!” You tsk and throw your hands in the air. “I can see myself all of 10 feet to my front door just fine without you. Thank you very much.” You take one last drag of your cigarette before throwing it to the ground. Your front heel presses firmly into the bud to snuff out the embers. Once out, you bend down to pick up the extinguished bud. Minho takes a moment to admire your bent figure in front of him before you stand up again.

“Wow, a feminist and she doesn’t litter.” You walk past him ignoring his comment. “Good night, Y/n. It was nice meeting you,” he says with sarcastic cheer.

Still walking away, you lift your hand up and flip him off as you head to your door. He shakes his head laughing as he watches you arrive safely. He takes one more drag from his cigarette before turning in for the night.

Holding the knob you pause before entering. You listen for his steps as he walks up the porch to his door. You try to clandestinely peek around the corner to get one last look at him. Minho is about to twist the handle when he feels your gaze. He looks over and catches your eye. Before you can see his reaction, you quickly look away and open your door. Slamming it shut you lean against the cold metal and exhale. Your heart starts fluttering in your chest.

Fuck.

MASTERLIST

Let me know what you think!

I will try to post Chapter II tomorrow.

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inklore · 1 year

Text

the price of pity

premise: namor can’t blame you for wanting to reach out and touch him, to tease him, to silently beg him to take you upstairs and fuck you into your mattress. he can however blame you for acting so needy the two of you almost get caught.

pairing: dbf!namor x (f)reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: namor is a mean!dom it’s canon, fingering, dirty talk, brat tamer!namor, mentions of past p in v, teasing, degradation, nose riding mention, name calling but in a hot way, established secret relationship, age gap (readers in her 20s), mentions of sexting, amenaza means menace.

note: am i addicted to writing dbf!namor now thanks to my fellow whores out there? maybe, possibly, yes. this idea struck me like a punch to the gut and my insides wouldn’t rest until i wrote it so please suffer along with me.

part one | feel free to send more thots on these two!

You’ve come to learn that keeping secrets takes little to no effort at all when said secret is something that makes you happy. Something that brings the sun into your life, making you realize that the light within it before was just artificial lighting. Or maybe it was less poetic than that. Maybe you just liked how it felt to not be at odds with a man you never realized you burned for until he grabbed your face and singed your skin with his lips.

Or perhaps you just liked how much he made you come.

Casually hooking up with someone was not new to you. You’ve had your share of sexual encounters to know what you like, what you don’t like, and the type of person you like said things from. You didn’t expect anything to differ when it came to being with Namor. Didn’t expect it to get past the kiss in the kitchen that had been cut short from your fathers arrival.

You hadn’t expected a text from him that night while you laid in bed, a simple conversation of limits and misplaced guilt and fear that quickly turned into dirty words. And perfectly angled photos of his broad chest and happy trail—a video of his cock in hand following shortly after.

Nor did you expect to end up tangled in his bed sheets days later.

It was hard to wrap your head around something you didn’t impose on happening, didn’t think about happening until his kiss almost knocked you off your feet, and your name coming from his mouth as he came on your stomach had made you woozy.

But this was your reality now, and where shame should have lied, your attachment to Namor had grown.

Like vines wrapping around said shame and guilt and fear of being caught by your father, suffocating it. Letting the press of his tongue and the tip of his cock fully snuff it out until all there was was you and Namor.

And your secret meetings.

Meetings that made you realize—after the first time—your history of sexual encounters couldn’t come close to something like this. Like him. How he made you come undone with only words, the tip of his tongue and nose, a hand at your throat, nails digging so deep into the flesh of your hips from behind that he left you with bruises shaped like little moons to fawn over in the shower.

He had taken what you liked and turned it into true desire. True need.

It almost made you despise him—how he could make you come harder than you yourself ever could. Or how un-smug he was about it. How he still wore that beautiful scowl when he looked at you but now he just smiled a little more. Smirked, Would pull you to his chest when you were coming down and only start fucking you again when you begged him for it.

And it only frustrated you even more—where the despising really came in—when you’d wonder how long this would last.

How long could the two of you get away with this, how long did he want to keep doing it?

They were thoughts you quickly shot down. Let get wrapped up in those vines that were hiding you from the ugly truths and what ifs of this new relationship. If the time came where your father found out you knew that giving Namor up would never be an option. He said it himself: “if I keep touching you, if I let myself cross that line, I’ll never stop.”

And he hadn't.

And while keeping it a secret became easy—with little effort—not being able to touch Namor while he was over, when he came to visit your father, seemed to become more of a challenge with each visit.

There were only so many dark looks from across the room, or sweeps of his eyes up your legs, and upturns of smirks when you accidentally brushed past him or sent him a cheeky text while he shared beer with your father—you could handle. It all ending the same way, reaching the same destination with stolen kisses, a slap on the ass, and the stretch of his cock inside of you when you feed your dad another lie to get out of the house and over to his.

That still didn’t make it easy to pretend like nothing was going on when you could smell his cologne from across the room, or the sound of his deep chuckle making your thighs press closer together. The knowing glances of burning want behind his dark eyes when he caught you staring when you weren’t supposed to be.

So right now, as you sat with your exposed outer thigh pressed against his—as he manspreads on the, now, very small sofa the two of you were sharing—as the three of you watched a game you did not care about; you were going crazy.

Each time he shifts your body moves, pulling you into his frame more and more as if he were calling to your body, like some silent siren song. The pheromones from his cologne clogging your nostrils, the memory of how even sweat slicked against your body—your face buried into the crook of his neck—the musky sea salt scent still sticks to him. Still make your brain cloud over.

The parts he’s touching burn.

Make you squirm on the sliver of cushion his body allows you to have. The insides of your thighs pressed so tight together that your muscles ache; to be released, touched, smoothed over by his rough palms. The longer you sit here the longer your mind toys with the need you feel between your legs. And you really can’t help it. It's as if he’s rewired your entire DNA to crave him, even when you know you can’t. When you shouldn’t touch him—can’t touch him. You know how wrong it is to reach your hand out and let your fingers skate over the seam of his jeans, but you can’t help yourself.

The look he shoots you is deadly, making something dangerous twist at your insides like a bull seeing a red flag.

He’s not amused.

Barely gives you any reactions other than the few deadly scowls. If it wasn’t for the tick in his jaw and how his glare burns a hole through the tv, you wouldn’t think he was affected at all by your little touches—brushes, squirms and noises you’re manically dishing out right behind your fathers back. His recliner angled perfectly out of view of your shenanigans.

Maybe that’s why you’re so wet right now. Why your underwear is sticking to you uncomfortably. The risk of getting caught, of Namor slipping up and showing you the desire he only does behind closed doors right here in the open.

But he doesn’t feed into it. Doesn’t grant your silly behavior with the reaction you went; even if the scowl that’s shadowing his face turns you on more than the lightning strike of his smile.

When your dad stands up during a half time break your body instinctively wants to jump back. Move away from Namor and pretend your body isn’t completely on fire, heated with something you shouldn’t feel for him—try to act as normal as possible. And you’re sure you succeed, like every other time before this. With a soft smile and foe interest at whatever is going on on the tv.

Your fathers words going in one ear and out the other as your eyes blink from the tv to Namor’s side profile. The genuinely friendly smile he gives your dad at whatever he’s saying he’s going to do in the basement, makes your chest swoop. The stretch of his neck, the skin you love to bite and suck at there to hear him growl against your ear. The bump in his nose that you love to feel when he’s eating you out; you’re overheating.

He can’t be mad at you for wanting to reach over and touch him, to tease him, to silently beg him to take you upstairs and fuck you into your mattress—can he? He wouldn’t be. Right?

Wrong.

You realize when your fathers footsteps disappear into the kitchen and the heavy groan of the basement steps being walked on fades into silence. A groan of pain croaking in the back of your throat when Namor grabs you by the jaw, pulling you so very close to his face—too close, too much of an agitated look in his eye for it to be romantic, the type of closeness and grip you’d give to an enemy, not someone you’re fucking.

“Stop.”

The innocent look you give him isn’t a play. Another tease to keep the game going, to let him know how much you want him. He knows. He always knows. No. The look you’re giving him is one you’d give when your jaw is aching from the hold on it and the intensity of the dark eyes burning through you.

“Amenaza,” he sneers in his native tongue. Making your cheeks burn hotter, your voice losing all backing of the tough-teasing-stance you had minutes ago.

“I can’t help it.” You frown, let your palm splay against his upper thigh, “going all day without you touching me feels like a crime.” Your attempts at a teasing joke only make his stare more agitated. The smile you try to surface hard to do when his fingers feel like they're about to snap your jaw in two.

“I’m questioning your smarts, again.”

You start to speak but he cuts you off with harsh words, “if you wanted to be fucked as bad as you’re claiming, you think you would be smart enough to not ruin the chances of it ever happening again by getting caught.” The back of his thumb rubs against the line of your jaw, his eyes making a slow show of tracing the outline of your face from your eyes to your lips and back up again. “Or does that get you off? Getting caught, never coming by my hand–or my cock–again. I used to think you were a good girl. But having seen just how easily,” the pad of his thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “it is to get you cock drunk. I know I was mistaken in thinking that.”

The breath coming out of your lungs in heavy puffs blows against his finger. The beat of your heart against your ribcage makes it even harder to breathe. To function and suffice an argument to shoot back at him. An argument that would just be throwing matchsticks into an already blazing fire; useless.

The pounding between your legs becoming so unbearable you can’t help but try and get some friction by grinding your ass into the couch as subtly as possible. A subtle motion that is just the opposite of what you want it to be, but sends tingles down your spine and relieves a fraction of the ache you’re fighting tooth and nail with.

Namor notices right away. His eyes move down to the movements you halt once you realize the aforementioned lack of subtleness. Your need making you feel girlishly stupid and frustrated.

You despised him. You really did.

“You want me to touch you with your father in the next room?” He questions, looks at you with a curl of disgust on his lips. A look you can’t tell is genuine or not, but makes flutters swarm your stomach either way. He doesn’t let you answer, you’re sure he doesn’t want you to with the way he’s looking at you. With the way he pulls you forward so his lips are now so close to yours that when he speaks again you can feel the brush of his mustache. “You’re such a whore. You’re sick.” His tone low and like gravel against your aching insides.

“You like it,” you breathe. Stare down at his lips before meeting his dark eyes again.

Your retort making the grip on your already stinging jaw press harder into the bone, surely bruising skin, as he grips it harder—tighter, if that’s even possible. The look of disgust setting his brows down even lower, eyes narrowed.

You don’t expect to feel the hard indents of his free hand grabbing the back of your thigh, pulling your legs apart. A slap to your inner thigh making you gasp when you don’t keep yourself spread for him. His silence even more of an anticipation than the feel of his fingertips dancing up your thighs. Slipping past the waistband of the cloth shorts adorning your lower half.

The look that flashes over his eyes when he touches the outside of your panties, feels how soaked they are, makes a pathetic noise hitch in your throat. The gasp you let out even louder when he presses two fingers against the wet fabric, spreading you through them and coming down on your clit. Your fingers digging into the side of his t-shirt to ground yourself. To remind you that your father is just below you. That he’s barely touched you and you’re already so wet and ready for him that just a press of his fingers is making your hips gyrate, and feel close to coming.

“Am I the only one who fucks you like this? Makes you scream when you come?” He had said one night, mouth pressed to your ear as he held you down to the mattress, hips pounding hard against your ass as he fucked you.

And the answer was yes. Just as he doesn’t need to ask you if you’re this wet for him. You always are.

It’s when he finally stops teasing you from outside of your underwear and pushes past them that you can hear how wet you are—that both of you can, if the feral look on his face is anything to go by. The moans that you try to swallow down creeping up your throat like burning coals that refuse to go out. Adding to the symphony of filth you prey can’t be heard from downstairs.

As Namor’s knuckle rubs at your sensitive clit, two fingers push—as deep as your tightness will allow him to go—inside of you, fucking you with them.

“Shut up,” he demands as he releases your jaw to grip the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his. “Keep your pretty mouth quiet, or this will be the last time you get fucked by any part of me.”

And it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever been asked to do.

Trying to keep the burning pleasure that he’s giving you, that is coiling your body like an overworked spring ready to give and come apart, from spilling from your mouth the way you want. The way you need. The way you know he loves.

But think he might love more.

The hard look he keeps flashing from your eyes to your mouth as it hangs open on silent sobs—the hand brushing against the outline of his cock pressing tight to his jeans—letting you know for certain.

His forehead presses to yours as he grunts “you don’t deserve my cock. You’re lucky I’m giving you my pity.” But he makes no move to remove your hand, to stop himself from slowly rocking his hips up to apply more pressure to himself, “so stop being greedy before I stop being nice.” He threatens.

Your palm freezes immediately and pulls away from his lap, the whine you want to let out swallowed down from the blaze of his glare when he pulls his head from yours. When he goes back to watching you, like he’s torturing the both of you. When you’re the one who’s trying not to lose it right now; at his threats, his beautifully deep brown eyes, and the way his fingers are fucking you so deep and slow while his knuckle plays with your clit in the opposite speed, making your legs instinctively itch to close the closer and closer you get to coming.

And you’re so fucking close you want to scream. To cry. To praise him for his pity on you.

“Look at me.” He demands, squeezing the skin at the back of your neck. “You wanted this, wanted to be a whore,” he says the derogatory word like a praise. Liquid smooth and thick with his own obvious lust. “So come for me,” and two, three—four—strokes against your clit and you’re coming. His mouth pressing hard against yours as he muffles the cries you let out. His tongue lapping them from your throat like the sweetest poison.

He doesn’t allow you to catch your breath before he’s pulling away from you though. Removing his hand from your shorts, slipping the two fingers that were inside of you into his mouth to clean, and then he’s righting himself back to normal. Grabbing his forgotten beer and pressing it to his mouth. A smile on his face just as your father walks back into the room.

He doesn’t look to you again until a commercial breaks on the screen and your dad is too busy going off on a tenant over something that’s barely registering in your focus, because your head is still cloudy with coming down—and trying to right your breath without your dad noticing, which is harder said than done; your panties sticking uncomfortably to you now that you’ve ruined them even more.

The heat from him as he leans close to you, lips to the shell of your ear, only reigniting those just sedated aches, as he speaks in a whisper. “You’re not off the hook. My kindness comes with a price and you’re going to pay for it until you’re begging for me to take it away.”

#namor smut #namor x reader #namor x you #namor one shot #namor imagine #namor x female reader #namor x f!reader #dbf!namor #namor #namor x y/n #namor x black reader #black panther smut #namor fanfic

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fuckmyskywalker · 5 months

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❄️ 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟔𝐭𝐡 : 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 - 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.

— CW: 18+. Smut. PiV. Age gap. Dirty talk. | Word count 0.6k (not proofread!)

— Anyafest + Taglist!

“I didn’t ask for your goddamned opinion, didn't I?” Anakin grunts, pushing your face against the worn out cushions of the couch. “When you have children of your own, you'll know how much of a pain in the ass they are.”

He slaps your ass, groping your hips to raise it higher. The position pushes his cock deep enough so you think he is rearranging your guts— maybe even making room for that child he always threatens to put in you. Anakin always says how you would—will be a wonderful mother.

“Sorry,” You choke, not sure if you want to crawl away from him or press your body closer to his. “I’m sorry— I’m sorry!”

He slaps your ass again, tightening his hold on your head. It doesn't matter how good it feels to have his cock squeezed by your tight, slick walls. You simply cannot seem to shut the fuck up— which only makes his headache worse. His head—along with his cock— throbs painfully.

The wisest thing would be to cut off the alcohol, but everyone knows Anakin is just as physically unable to stop drinking as he is to be a responsible father.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Anakin growls, cutting your airflow with his big hand. “I come home from spending the night with my stupid family, had to listen— fuck— my daughter yelled at me for hours, had to see my princess with her new fucking boyfriend, and now I have to listen to your damn sobbing?” His hips speed up, slamming his thighs against your ass with thrusts that punch the air out of your lungs. “Thought you wanted to be good for me, whore.”

“I do!” You object, twisting your neck to both breath and speak. “I just want to be good.”

Sure, this wasn't supposed to be the way you thought you'd spend the morning after Christmas, but something about being used as a stress reliever helps to soothe your need for validation and affection. You are happy to bring something positive to your boyfriend’s shitty life.

Your body tenses and Anakin groans louder, his raw, deep voice making you moan again. He isn't loud when it comes to sex but he sure likes to run that filthy mouth of his.

“Fucking brat, you might as well be my daughter too if you are going to try and boss me around.”

“Everyone was talking shit ‘bout you too— guess they don’t like seeing Daddy happy.” You make him happy. Oh how lovely that makes you feel.

“You are getting so fucking tight, God— you like to be used like a ragdoll? My precious toy to fill with cum?”

You do. You sure do.

The couch moves violently as he bullies your poor pussy, and you are sure the damn trailer is moving too, anyone who walks by could figure out what's happening in the inside, and Anakin doesn't bother to close the ripped curtains. The armrest of the couch hits the small table next to Anakin’s back, making it stagger and causing the mug of— now cold— coffee you brewed this morning to ease his hungover to fall onto the already dirty rug. The noise makes Anakin groan annoyed, slapping your ass again as if it was your fault.

“See what you do with all your fucking squirming?” He scolds you the way someone would talk to a child. “I should make you clean it with your tongue.”

You want to apologize, he already has much on his plate, right? You are supposed to make his life easier but there you go just stressing him more. Mindless apologies and «I’m sorry» mumbles fall down your lips, followed by a string of drool.

“You'll be sorry when I'm done with you.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anyafest 2023!#trailer trash!anakin #trailer trash!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin smut #anakin x reader

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moremousewrites · 1 month

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Fortress

Pairing: Astarion/Tav

Summary: You took a risk and put your party's lives in danger. Astarion is displeased with your decision and lets you know, a bit too well. You realize just what the people closest to you are capable of when you're vulnerable with them

Tags: Angst, emotional hurt

A/N: a little angst blurb I wrote about Astarion yelling at Tav and they revert back to old defenses. Based loosely off my Tav who is a noble

The Blood of Lathander weighed heavily in your hands as you dashed out of the monastery. Walls shook around you, the ceiling was collapsing above but your body pushed until you saw it, the light of the doorway.

You couldn't look back to see your companions but you hoped they had as much urgency as you. With a dive, you managed to narily escape the collapsing structure, deafening waves of sound emanating from stone crashing upon itself.

Dusting yourself off, you looked around you. “Oh good, you're all okay” you smiled at your companions who were in varying stages of shock and exhaustion. Astarion, however, looked irate.

“Okay? Okay?! What in the hells were you thinking doing that? That sort of reckless behavior might be acceptable where you're from but you could have killed us all over some- some trinket!” He fumed at you, gesturing rapidly.

You tried to suppress your panic at his reaction. He'd never yelled at you like this before. “I'm sorry I-” you tried to apologize, wanting to de escalate the situation but he cut you off.

“You're unbelievable! Are you such a spoiled brat you need to put everyone's lives at risk for some shiny bauble? I hope it was worth it” he huffed. The dig at your noble ancestry was like a punch in the gut. He knew you made an effort to distance yourself from your past and here he was shoving your nose in it.

You furrowed your brow, glaring at the vampire spawn. “Astarion, I'm giving you one opportunity to apologize” you warned, pain and anger constricting your throat.

Astarion laughed, manic and hysterical. “That better be a joke because it's hilarious. You want me to apologize to you?” He wiped dust and sweat from his brow, expecting an answer.

You accepted that to mean he would not be taking back his words. You straightened your posture and forced a regal air about yourself. Force of habit from your adolescence. In these times of vulnerability and betrayal, you had to keep a strong face. Never let them see you falter.

“You're right. I apologize for putting your lives at risk. I hope I can regain your confidence in my leadership abilities moving forward” despite the lilt in your voice you pushed, your words were devoid of any feeling. Astarion studied your face and saw two dead eyes staring through him. It was like you were possessed or that your spirit left your body. Unfortunately, Astarion knew that it was not as simple as a mere possession. You warned him that he was going too far and he kept rubbing salt in your wound. Wonderful, now he felt like shit- on top of having a building dropped on him.

You walked away before he could say anything, your grip firm on the morningstar. You sincerely did hope it was worth it.

#astarion #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 7 months

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Imagine taking UTA and Luffy trick or treating with Shanks

Shanks: thanks for doing this, I know you probably had other plans for tonight.

You: *a friend of Makino's who volunteered to take Luffy for the night* It's really no problem, my plans changed when my friend got sick and had to cancel her party, so figured I take Luffy for the night, so both he and Makino could have fun.

Shanks: A party? Is that why you're in costume? Well, Uta'll be pleased, she was very insistent about all of us dressing up for her first time trick or treating.

You: Oh it's her first time?

Shanks: yeah it's something that's only practiced here in the East Blue

Luffy: Hurry up you two, people are starting to go already.

Uta: Yeah! If you take too much longer there isn't gonna be any candy left!

Shanks: Yes, yes, we're coming.... I like your costume by the way, it suits you.

Uta: ( TT n TT) What about my costume?

Shanks: Yours is gorgeous my sweet.

You: *nods your head* I can tell you put in a lot of work into it.

Uta: whatever, I have candy to collect. *runs off *

An hour later

Uta: *notices the way Shanks is looking at you*

Luffy: *runs to you and jumps into your arms* Look! Look! That house was passing out full sized candy bars!

You: oh wow, never seen that in this neighborhood before.

Uta and Shanks: *come over from playing a game at a neighboring house*

Shanks: what's going on?

Luffy: Uta, this house is giving away full sized candy bars. Jumps down*

Uta: EHH! No way! I want one! *pulls Luffy towards the door and rings the bell.*

Old lady: *answers the door*

Uta and Luffy: Trick or treat!

Old lady: *looks between Uta and Luffy, before glancing up at you and Shanks* Oh my, how scary! Who do we have here?

Luffy: I'm a pirate

Uta: and I'm a pop star. *Throws up a peace sign and winks*

Old Lady: I can see, you're very sparkly, dear. *let's Uta pick out a full sized candy bar from a selection* Now I believe I already gave you candy bar.

Luffy: *grins and nods* he he, yeah, thanks, I just came to bring her. You've already paid the toll.

Shanks: *wraps his arm over your shoulders and sighs*

Old lady: *catches the red head out of the corner of her eye and hands Luffy two more candy bars* Why don't you take these to your lovely parents. *Gestures towards you and Shanks*

Uta and Luffy: *look over at you two*

Uta: That's my dad! Keep your hands to yourself!

Luffy: but he's the one touching them?

Uta: and you're not my brother *shoves Luffy and marches over to you*, and you're a stranger.

Shanks: *mutters* Hopefully not for long.

Uta: What was that!

Shanks: I mean, I know we've only met a few times, but I want to get to know you.

You: really?

Uta: What!

Shanks: yeah, *ignoring his child* if that's okay.

You: okay, sure.

Uta: This is not happening!

Luffy: what's the big deal, it's not like they'll be setting sail with you... wait! If they get to go, take me too!

Uta: *throws the first punch* You're not coming either.

Luffy: You wanna go, fine, winner gets to go with Shanks, loser gets to stay here with my Grandpa. *Dodges Uta's fist and throws a punch of his own*

Shanks: Uta, knock it off!

Uta: More like, knock him out, cause that's what I'm gonna do. *gut punches Luffy

You: Luffy, you don't hit girls.

Luffy: no, you don't hit people weaker than you, which makes her free game, because she's older and bigger, and she knows how to defend herself.

You: does she?

Shanks: yeah, I wanted to make sure she could stand up for herself, and others *Pulls them apart and has to wrestle back Luffy.* Stop moving, ya damn brat!

Luffy: Never! *Flails harder*

Uta: *knows better than to fight Shanks on this and sulks beside you,* He would never choose you over me.

You: I promise I would never ask him to choose me over you. Okay? *Holds out your pinky*

Uta: *hooks your pinky in hers* I'll hold you to that while making no promises of my own.

You: I want you to get to know me as well, for Luffy, you're an important friend of his. So that makes you important to me too.

Uta: Fine, I guess I'll be doing you a big favor, because I'm gonna be famous one day. I'm gonna become the best singer in the world.

You: Well I guess I'll have to get tickets to your concert when it comes to this island.

Uta: You'd come see me perform!

You: I'd love to hear you sing, you could even pick the song.

Uta: I'm performing at Makino's bar tomorrow night at three, don't be late. Oh, and ticket cost a candy bar.

You: Yes, you make have my bar, and I'll be there a two thirty, and you can tell me the tales of the adventures of Uta and Luffy.

Uta: *points* HA! They agree with me, Luffy!

Luffy: Wait what?

Uta: They agree with me that "Uta and Luffy" is a much better than "Luffy and Uta."

Luffy: What! (Y/n), you're my friend, you're not supposed to agree with her!

Shanks: Sorry kid, "Uta and Luffy" flows better.

Luffy: I'd suddenly rather be home with Makino.

List of Up-and-coming works

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #uta #shanks #red hair shanks #shanks x reader #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy #one piece luffy #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #10/18/23 #no beta we die like men

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jaycewrites-192000 · 3 months

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In Every Timeline [Chapter One]

Taglist- @ameliabs-world

(If anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know ^w^)

A young girl at the age of ten, makes her way home from school. She didn’t live too far away from her school, so she didn’t mind the walk to and back. In fact, she found herself enjoying the walks. It gave her some alone time, some time to herself, some time to think.

It was nice.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last long. Today, some middle schoolers decided to give her a hard time. She was stopped by two older boys, each of them trying to come off as intimidating.

“You lost little girl?”

“Where’s your little friends? Or, maybe…Don’t tell me you’re one of those friendless geeks!”

“I bet! Just look at her!”

She inwardly sighs at their attempts at scaring her and hurting her feelings. Though, what they said wasn’t entirely wrong. She really didn’t have any friends. It was hard to make friends at her school. Or rather, it was hard for her to make friends. She just gave up after a while.

She wasn’t sad about it or anything. She was doing just fine.

“Can you please get out of my way?” She finally speaks.

“Huh? Trying to order us around pipsqueak!?”

“Annoying little brat! We outta reach you a lesson!”

The two took a step closer to her. This time the sigh left her. She wasn’t a great fighter. She was only ten after all. But she did deal with her fair share of bullies, and she was able to take care of them on her own.

This was no different. Just two dumb bullies in her way.

The first one raised his fist and aimed it towards her face. She quickly dodged before deliver a punch of her own to his stomach. She wasn’t sure if he was actually hurt from it, or if it was just shock that made him stumble back. But she didn’t waste time as she did the same to the other, this time, kicking him in the gut as hard as she could.

“Damn you!”

The girl quickly tried running past them, but was grabbed by the arm and yanked back.

“Hold her still.”

One of the boys cracked his knuckles as he spoke. “We were just gonna let you go with a light slap on the wrist. But now you’re gonna get it! How would you like a few broken bones!?”

Just as he said this, fast approaching footsteps could be heard. And before she knew it, the one threatening to harm her was being kicked in the head. He was sent to the ground roughly, unconscious.

Standing above him, was a boy around her age. With a bored expression, he turned to the one holding her. “How lame. Picking on a little girl.” He muttered before rushing towards him. He jumped up into the air, and delivered the same devastating kick he dealt the first one.

He landed with ease, and turned to face the girl. “You alright?” He asks. The girl blinks before nodding her head. “Ok. See ya.” The boy says before starting to walk off.

“Wait a second!”

The boy stopped when she called for him. “What?” He asks. “How…How did you do that?” She asks him. “Do what?” The boy tilts his head. “The flying kick you just did!” The girl says, pointing back to the still unconscious middle schoolers.

“Oh that.” The boy says, placing his hands in his pockets. “I take martial arts classes with my grandpa.” He explains. “Can I do it too?” Her question confused him.

“Where is your grandpa’s dojo? I wanna take lessons too.”

“What? No way, you totally suck at fighting. It’d be a waste of time.” He says with a frown. The girl furrows her brows. “I do not!” She argues.

“I saw you trying to fight back against those guys. You barely left a mark on them. Then you tried to run away like a coward.”

“But there were two of them!”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have tried fighting them. Especially if you don’t know how to fight in the first place.”

“Then isn’t that even more of a reason to let me practice at the dojo? Then I can do those cool kicks like you do and I won’t have to worry about guys like that again.”

The boy sighs and starts walking away again. “No way. It would take you forever to get on my level.” The girl followed after him. “Like I said! That’s more of a reason why I should take lessons!”

“I already said no. And stop following me!”

“Not until you tell me where the dojo is!”

“No!”

This kind of back and forth between the two would go on for at least a week after that. It was by some stroke of luck that the boy went to the same school as her. So, she’d make sure to follow after him and try her best to convince him to let her take lessons with him.

But every time, he turned her down.

One day, she decided to follow him without him knowing. Sure it was creepy, but she was only doing it to find out where he was taking martial arts classes. After that, and after applying to join, she’d leave him alone. By then, she would have done what she had sought out to accomplish.

Her plan had proved to be successful, as she trailed him to the dojo. She waited for the boy to go inside before waiting outside. She didn’t mind the wait. It would be worth it if she could learn how to fight like him.

“What are you doing out here?”

The girl looks to her left, there stood a young man with jet black hair. A cigarette hung loose from his lips, and even from where she stood, she could smell a hint of motor oil off his clothes.

“I’m waiting.” She answers simply, causing the man to raise an eyebrow. “Waiting for…?”

The girl looks up at the dojo. “I wanna learn how to fight. But that dummy won’t let me!” She pouts. “What dummy?” Asked the man. The girl opened her mouth, only for it to fall close again. What…was that boy’s name?

“Uh. He’s short, and has blonde hair. And he does really cool kicks.”

“Oh, Manjiro?” The man asks. “You friends with him?” The girl shakes her head with a frown. “I don’t like him! He’s a jerk! He said it would be a waste of time for me to learn how to fight. I’m not good at it, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn!”

The man nods. “I agree.” He says before taking one last puff of his cigarette, then tossing on the ground and stepping on it. “I’m sorry about my little brother. He can be a pain sometimes.” Brother? This guy is that jerk’s brother? But he seems really nice.

“My name is Shinichiro Sano. Who are you?”

“Y/n L/n.”

The two talked for a while before the doors of the dojo opened, letting some kids out. Among them, was Manjiro and some other boy he was talking to. Manjiro seemed to have noticed Y/n, as an annoyed look crossed his face. “You again.”

“Who’s that?” Asked the taller boy with him. “Some brat.” Manjiro answers. “Hey!” Y/n scowls. “Manjiro, why don’t you think Y/n can take lessons here?” Asked Shinichiro. “Cause she sucks.” Manjiro says, as if Shinichiro should already know. “She’ll just get herself hurt.”

“Hm. I think that’s a great reason to let her try.” Said Shinichiro. “What do you think Baji?” The other boy hummed. “I guess? I mean, couldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll talk to Gramps about letting you take lessons.” Shinichiro tells Y/n, making her grin. “Thank you!” She beams.

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He says as he walks ahead. Baji gives Y/n a small wave before hurrying after him. “Hmph. Jerk.” Y/n mutters, watching Manjiro leave. “Don’t worry.” Shinichiro starts.

“He’ll get use to you soon.”

Luck must have been on Y/n’a side. Shinichiro’s grandfather accepted her into the dojo, and lessons began right away. And just as Shinichiro said, Manjiro, or “Mikey” as he liked to be referred to, slowly got use to her being around.

But he was still a bit of a jerk.

As for Shinichiro, he couldn’t be sweeter. Y/n really grew attached to him, she would go as far to say he was like an older brother to her. That gave her even more of a reason to show up for lessons.

Y/n became friends with Emma as well, she was really nice to her when they met. Y/n was hesitant at first, but slowly opened up to her. Whenever Y/n wasn’t taking lessons, she was hanging out with Emma.

As for Mikey, he too eventually grew more comfortable with Y/n. Turns out she wasn’t completely hopeless after all. At some point, those two set aside their little dislike of each other, and became pretty good friends.

Y/n would get to hang out with him and his friends, in time, becoming friends with them as well. And being the only girl in a group of boys, their behavior and mannerisms rubbed off on Y/n. Among the group she had to admit, Ken, or Draken, was her favorite.

He was surprisingly mature for his age, only being beat by Mitsuya. And that was only by a little. As for the others though, they were just a bunch of boys. But back to Draken-

There was a point where Y/n had grown to see him as an older brother. He was nice but could get stern if he needed to. And he was a great protector. Y/n could understand why Emma liked him so much.

Y/n would have saved that big brother title for Shinichiro, as he was a great brother to the Sano kids. But honestly, she saw him as more than that. She'd go as far to say, he was almost like a father figure to her.

It was just Y/n and her mom back home, as she and her husband divorced a couple years ago.

Shinichiro kind of filled that emptiness that Y/n's dad left her with. He was always so caring, always looked out for her, always wanted to know how she was doing. He’d even let her hang out at the shop while he worked. It was quite the sight. He was so focused, and he did his job well.

He was just the coolest.

Y/n really cared about each and every single one of them. Which is why, it was all the more difficult when she had to say goodbye.

Mikey had noticed Y/n's behavior had changed lately. Y/n was less talkative, less active. She didn’t want to do much of anything with anyone. It was weird. So of course, he decided to confront her about it.

He caught Y/n on the way to Shinichiro’s shop.

“You’re acting weird. More than usual. What’s going on?” He asks. Y/n shrugged. “It’s nothing.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that? Tell me.” Y/n suddenly stop walking, Mikey did as well. “Well?” He pries.

Y/n's shoulders began to tremble, soft sniffles came from her as tears filled her eyes. Mikey was slightly surprised by this. She never cried in front of him, or anyone, before. “Y/n?”

“I’m moving away.”

“What?”

Y/n wipe away her tears, sniffling before repeating herself. “I said, I’m moving away. Away from Tokyo, away from Japan all together.”

“Why?” Mikey asks, trying to ignore that funny feeling in his chest. “It’s because of my mom’s work. We’re leaving in a week.” Y/n tells him. Mikey fell silent, the only thing that could be heard was her sniffles and soft cries.

Everyone found out eventually, and they were just as upset as Y/n was. But there wasn’t anything anyone could do. She was leaving, and she didn’t know when, or if, she'd be back.

Ok! First chapter done! Chapter two is already in the works as this is being published, so hopefully you guys will get to read chapter two soon.

I hope you all enjoy this series!

#tokyo revengers #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo revengers mikey #mikey x reader #majiro sano x reader #sano manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #spoilers

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holylulusworld · 2 months

Text

The widow (2)

Summary: You trust no one. Not since they got your husband killed.

Pairing: TFaTW!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions death of a loved-one, mentions of s miscarriage (no description), the reader is under protection, bitchy reader, arguments, grumpy Bucky, angst, grief

The widow masterlist

The Widow (1)

Over the next few days, you stayed in your bedroom. The confrontation with Bucky, and defending your dead husband drained all the energy you had left from your body.

You lost your appetite and didn’t even try to get up from bed to have a shower. It’s not a secret that you reek, and need to clean yourself up but you just can’t find the strength to do more than mourn the loss of Ransom all over again.

“She didn’t leave the room for days?” Sam throws his hands up. “I know you and her were butting heads from the moment you met, but we are responsible for her. Y/N had nothing to do with her husband’s crimes. She’s an innocent victim and lost more than her husband that day.”

“What else did she lose, huh?” Bucky huffs. “The money? Or all the shiny things. Maybe her pretty dresses and expensive shoes.”

“Bucky, why are you so angry at her?” Sam questions. “From the very beginning, you attacked her without a reason.”

“Because she’s a spoiled brat and cries over her criminal husband. I lost people too – good people. People who protected people all her life!”

“Her husband was a good person too,” Sam gets louder and starts to argue with his hands. “He did everything to protect his wife. Ransom Drysdale committed most of the crimes he got arrested for after they threatened his wife.”

“That’s what he told the cops.” Bucky sneers. He still doesn’t believe you and your husband got tricked by his business partners.

“Bucky, I know blaming you for your past was a low blow,” Sam’s features soften, and he puts his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “But man, she’s an innocent bystander, and she’s grieving. Y/N did not only lose her husband that day, but her unborn child too. Her future got ripped out of her hands by the people claiming to protect them.”

Bucky feels like someone punched him in the guts. He looks at Sam, feeling like a monster. “Her baby?”

“Ransom protected her with his body, but she still got shot,” Sam lowers his voice. “One of the bullets hit her belly and…”

“She lost the baby,” Bucky whispers, as he looks anywhere but at Sam. “You should’ve told me so, Sam.”

“Why? Only because she lost her baby doesn’t make her a saint,” Sam can’t help but snap at his friend. “I didn’t think her losses would stop you from blaming her for all the things happening to her.”

“Sam, I’m not like that.” Bucky tries to argue. “ You know that.”

“Yeah?” Sam cocks his head and looks Bucky up and down. “How about you prove you are not a stubborn and unfair bastard.”

“I still don’t like her,” Bucky points his index finger at Sam. “But I’ll try to do better.”

Bucky enters your room after he knocks a few times. You didn’t tell him to get fucked as usual and he’s worried you tried to escape or worse, hurt yourself.

“I’m coming in,” he says and opens the door. Bucky finds it unlocked because you didn’t want him to tear the door down for a third time. “I hope you are dressed.”

He waits for a heartbeat, and another before finally stepping inside the room.

“Sam is downstairs and needs to talk to you. They will be here in a few days to hear your statement.”

Bucky walks toward the bed, finding you in the same position as last time he sneaked inside your room to check if you are still alive.

“Come on, don’t be a brat, redress, and come downstairs for breakfast.”

You don’t react. All you do is stare at the wall and wallow in your pain.

“G-et fucked,” your voice cracks, but you at least tried to get rid of him.

“There she is,” he says and walks around the bed to crouch down right in front of you. Bucky frowns deeply. You are still staring at the wall. “You need to get up and have a shower.” He scrunches up his nose. “When was the last time you showered?”

“Get fucked.”

“Doll, that’s not what’s going to happen,” he carefully moves closer to drag the blanket off your body. You shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. “You need a shower and food. If you don’t get out of the bed yourself, I’ll grab you and put you under the spray.”

You huff. “Just let me rot in dirt and smell. You don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Yeah, but you smell bad, and I don’t want Sam to get mad at me,” he smirks when you turn your back on him. “Oh, we are on cold-shoulder terms already. Good. That’s progress.”

You don’t like that he’s talkative today. Something must’ve happened, and you wonder what your prison guard is up to today. “Let me sleep.”

“You slept enough over the last days,” he says and grasps for you. You’re too tired and weak to fight him. You end up in his arms.

“Let me down,” you say, and wiggle in his grip, but you don’t stand a chance against a super-soldier. Bucky carries inside the bathroom, laughing as you throw insults at him. “Let me down! I won’t tell you twice!”

“You already did, doll.” He carefully puts you on your feet but blocks your path. “You’ve got two options. Number one, I’ll leave the bathroom and you have a shower. Number two, you act like a brat, and I’ll scrub your smelly ass clean.”

“You wouldn’t dare putting your hands on me!” Your nostrils flare, and you’re about to attack a much stronger opponent.

“Have a shower, and I’ll change the sheets. Sam brought you fresh clothes and toiletries.” Bucky turns to leave. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get clean, or I’ll take down the door and scrub you clean.”

“Get fucked,” you weakly reply. Today is not the best day for a fight or any kind of interaction with other people. You only want to go back to bed and hide from the world.

Bucky glances at you one last time before leaving the bathroom. Something seems to be off with you, but he doesn’t have the time nor the patience to ask you what’s wrong.

“Y/N, hi,” Sam walks toward you to tell you about the latest development in your husband’s case. “How have you been?”

You shrug and walk past Sam.

“You could at least answer his damn question.” Bucky curses himself for his slip of the tongue. He promised Sam to try better and just started a fight again.

You yawn and walk toward the small kitchenette. “He’s still my prison guard, and my husband is still dead. Everything remains the same. What about you? Any plans on killing me yet?”

Bucky watches you grab a bottle of water and an apple before you walk back upstairs to hide in your bedroom.

“What’s wrong with her?” Bucky frowns deeply. He was waiting for a snarky comeback or a witty comment coming from you.

“Bucky, leave her alone,” Sam shakes his head. “Today is her wedding anniversary. It’s the worst day to mess with her. Give her time and space.”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #The widow (2)#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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