#☆ ic. | happy tummy happy body !

[pitchdarkhook]

✩ . .  Hook is ready to interact with everyone! Give this post a ♥ and Hook will give you cute cat-shaped candy! If you're a multimuse, you can reply with the muse that you want.

[2tarbell]

one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!

kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text

happy birthday, angel 💓

BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.

the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.

but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.

‘what position u got her in?’

‘Be so fr’

it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.

the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.

it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.

so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.

“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.

“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.

“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.

princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.

“hellooooo?”

her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.

“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.

“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.

“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”

“hiii. why’s that?”

his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.

princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.

he ignored her question, instead asking his own.

“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”

a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”

“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”

she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.

“rafe cameron—“

he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”

it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.

she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”

she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.

a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.

“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.

comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.

she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.

“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.

princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.

he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.

“i— thank you, rafey…”

rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.

he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”

her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.

“that’s what position imma have you in.”

[frogchiro]

I-I just can't stop thinking about Captain MacTavish and his stupidly large, uncut cock and full, low hanging breeder balls :((

He's just,, so much man you get me? He's large, and bulky, well developed muscles moving and flexing beneath a layer of fat, thick, slightly tanned skin and a thick layer of dark hair all over his chest, tummy and happy trail and he's fucking proud of it.

Captain MacTavish isn't afraid to strut and parade himself like a prized stallion, showing off in front of all the soldiers but especially in front of you, like that one time in some backwater safe house.

It was a real shit hole, barely holding together but it was better than nothing and poor little you had almost cried out of relief when you set the heavy backpack with your technical equipment down on the dusty floor, Captain MacTavish, Captain Price and Gaz following shortly after. Except there was one tiny problem; there was a very limited amount of warm water supply so either you shower all together or someone will get an ice cold bath, and with the raging snow storm outside, the rapidly declining temperature and only a shitty old fireplace to keep you 'warm' the answer was obvious.

While you were given the 'courtesy' of having a flimsy old curtain hung to protect your modesty, to be honest you kinda resigned from it since it was basically see-through anyway.

So now you were all naked, your poor soft body sore from all the running and carrying heavy equipment and to top it all off you were surrounded by equally naked, powerful men too :(( While Soap, Price and Gaz made a half-assed promise to not look, they obviously did just that; sneaking glances at your soft tits and broad hips, thick thighs all nice and bitable looking- but the worst of all was Captain MacTavish :((

He wasn't even trying to be subtle, he was shameless in fact. Soap was standing the closest to you and he made use of that position, flexing his burly body and turning you you could see his half-hard cock hanging between his powerful legs, balls hanging full and swollen form all the backed up sperm; fighting always made adrenaline and testosterone run hot through his veins and the close proximity and scent of a pretty young thing like you?? If Soap was a worse man he'd bend you over right there and then and stuff his fat cock inside your poor cunt, tip right against your cervix and all and maybe, just maybe his cock drooled a nice amount of precum while smirking like a wolf at your flustered squeak and the annoyed, jealous groans of the men around him :((

[starkeyisthelastname]

trailerpark!rafe wakes up with one thing on his mind and it’s not what you are baking. 💦🍯 dirty sex below

Your pretty little self loved to bake and that didn’t stop even when you were over at Rafe’s. He had just woken up, tall body stretching as he lifted himself off the worn mattress. His nose caught a whiff of something sweet, his heavy footsteps carrying him through the creaky trailer and towards the small kitchen. You were quite the sight to take in, standing by the oven as your pretty eyes surveyed the pan you had just taken out by the looks of it. In nothing but a little pink nightgown with the fat of your ass hanging out and nipples poking through the thin material, had his mouth watering for something else sweet.

“Whatcha doing up so early, sugar?” His raspy voice vibrated through the kitchen as you began mixing the icing together. You got a little startled as when you were baking you were in your own world. You were of course happy he was awake though, bouncing on your feet to face him. “Making cinnamon rolls.” You told him, his large hands coming to roughly squeeze your waist.

His blue eyes looked over at the stove, before glancing down at you and raking across your body that looked tiny in comparison to his. “Cinnamon rolls, huh? You always gotta make somethin’ sweet for me. Don’t you?” He asked, voice low as he brought one of his hands up to grip your chin firmly.

You didn’t hesitate to nod, eyes wide and lashes long as they blinked up at your favorite person. Rafe let out a throaty laugh, his thumb coming up to rest against your pouty bottom lip. “I’m gonna do somethin’. Yeah? And don’t start worrying’ about those cinnamon rolls you made either.” He rasped out, watching your pretty face frown.

He moved your bowl of icing to the side, your little protest about it being cut short as he lifted you up onto the counter. He pulled you further down, his massive hand yanking your tits out of the nightgown and bunching it around your waist to see your perfect cunt. “Shit… pussy is beggin’ to be fuckin’ touched.” He laughed, his thumb coming out to rub your sweet pearl in circles. He loved watching you shudder, not knowing what to do as you were still new to all of these dirty things. He smirked, leaning down to bury his pert nose against your clit and shove tongue in your hole.

He was addicted, your cunt like a drug to him as he slurped your sweet sugar up. He couldn’t get enough, blunt nails digging into your fleshy thighs as he ate you like the poor starved man he was. Your sweet whines above only making him want more. He didn’t give a damn how messy he got either, moving his head back and forth as he buried his tongue even further to make you squeal.

His heavy blue eyes watched as you looked down him, your tits swaying as you breathed heavily from pleasure. He pulled back, sliding a thick digit in which you automatically clenched around. “That’s my good little fuckdoll.” He murmured, his free hand coming up to slap your tits. “I’m about to fuckin’ pound your pretty cunt sweet baby.”

His facial hair was sticky with your juices, tickling your neck as his thick cock rammed into you. He let out a breathy groan against your soft skin, the hard smacks of his thrusts echoing off the trailer walls. You were a babbling mess, his big dick stretching your drenched hole and his words growing dirtier.

He pulled away from your neck, both his large hands coming on either side of your head to hold it in place. His piercing eyes bored into you, making your corrupted little brain spin. “Fuck, how’d I get so lucky? Baking me treats and shit. Cleaning up this shithole of a place for me. Gettin’ to breed you with my little trailer park babies.” He said, making your eyes roll back as that funny feeling was growing more in your tummy. Especially the way held you and place, making you take his monster dick and hear his dirty words.

[buckyalpine]

I was thinking about Bucky. A beefy Bucky. A beefy mob Bucky. Who is such a simp. I think now is the perfect time to talk about it cause I need some fluff and look at that, it's also my favorite @wifeofbarnes birthday!

Happy birthday sweet angel, I hope you have one filled with so much love ❤️️❤️️

-

Imagine a brooding beefy mob Bucky pining after his rivals sweet, shy daughter. He has no business liking her, her father was always teetering on the edge of putting a bullet between Bucky's eyebrows but Bucky couldn't help it. She's too cute. Too sweet. Everyone knows there's something between you both between the fleeting glances and the number of times Bucky's left with a blush on his cheeks whenever your around.

For someone who hates meetings, he's more than fond of going to your estate to talk over business with a man he hates so much. He's going to go to every single one of those meeting if it means he gets to see you. He never gets more than a few moments, no more than a few words before he's dragged away by Steve who isn't trying to get stabbed by one of your bodyguards.

-

Bucky swirls his crystal glass, the ice in clinking against each other as he takes a sip of amber liquid, seated at a private booth at the back of the club. The alcohol that's already warming his body heats him up even more when he sees you laughing and giggling with your friends, a cute little birthday girl tiara on top of your head.

Fuck, you were so perfect.

"You're staring again, you creep" Steve snorts but Bucky pays him no mind. He's too busy looking at you in your pretty dress, your hips swaying to the music. Tipsy, maybe even a little drunk, love sick Bucky wants nothing more than to get a moment alone with you but he's smart enough to wait.

Well, sort of.

"Go distract her bodyguards"

"You're going to get us killed"

"Then you'll die knowing it was for a good cause"

Sam and Steve shake their head as they wander off to find your security team, quietly instigating a small scuffle to keep them occupied. You step outside waiting for your car to pull up, frowning when a large black truck stops in front of you instead. The door opens and-

"Bucky, what are you doing!" you squeak as he pulls you into the back of his SUV, setting you on his lap before telling his driver to park in a secluded area and to leave for a "smoke break".

"I wanted to say hi" Bucky shrugs innocently as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

"And this is how you decided to say hi?" You giggle, feeling butterflies bustle around your tummy being so close to him. You could smell his cologne and the warm scent of whiskey clinging onto his lips; you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself into him. The pink on his cheeks deepened at you caught him in his little act, pretending he wasn't admiring you from afar the whole time.

"I didn't know it was your birthday" He shrugs again while you try to wiggle off his lap, worried someone might see you but he huffs and holds you tighter. "The windows are tinted" he reads your mind without you saying anything, feeling your body relax slightly.

"Wish you'd said hi to me earlier" You say with a sigh and Bucky doesn't like the way you look sad now. You would've loved to spend more time with him instead of hiding away like this.

"I can drop you home" He offers with a boyish smile and you shake your head because it's far too risky and there's no way you'd be able to get away with it and sneak it past your father.

"Not unless you plan on posing as the cleaning lady-

"I can do that"

"Bucky-

"I can pull off a maids dress"

"James"

"Then how about a birthday kiss" He cocked his head to the side playfully and you swear your cheeks couldn't get any hotter.

"Bucky-

"Just one birthday kiss?" He pouts and you can't believe this mass of tattoos and muscle is giving you puppy eyes with his pink bottom lip jutting out.

"I-

"Please, sugar?" He whispers, his fingers tracing nimble little shapes on your hips while you chew your lip nervously, giving him a nod because you can no longer formulate words. He leans down to press his lips softly against yours and you sigh at the little whimper he lets out, his hands pawing at you to hold you closer. He feels all warm and fuzzy on the inside, letting his arms hug your body extra tight.

"Another?" He whispers, lips brushing against yours with a plea in his voice and you giggle, kissing him again.

"One more?"

"Bucky"

"Please?" He smiles when you kiss him until you're both breathless, only pulling away when you need air.

-

Imagine how cute he'd be trying to spend more time with you as discreetly as possible. You're usually at home so that's his best bet so he'll work with what he can.

"Why is this large fuck around my house so often" Your father rubbed his temples seeing another message for a meeting to go over shipments and territories. "Seriously, he's here almost every week"

Bucky is able to pull it off for a bit but honestly not for long. He's sitting across your father and it's gotten to the point his guards don't bother waiting by the door because Bucky isn't even a threat. He always comes and goes like it's his own house and they're not blind, silently betting over if this will end in a war or wedding.

"For fucks sake are you here to see me or my daughter" your father finally huffs, no longer able to take Bucky's blushing and shifting after you left his office to give him a coffee. "You're here to see her, aren't you"

Bucky nods like a school child who got caught cause knows he hasn't been discreet with his crush. Your father contemplates tossing Bucky into the lake with rocks tied to his ankles but he's also seen the way you look at him and there's no doubt the feelings are mutual.

"God damnit"

Imagine wedding and 2 babies later, Bucky is still just as in love with you. The cutest part is he's still trying to be sneaky.

"You're married now, why the hell are you still trying to hide" Your father berates the mob boss while bouncing his grandson in his lap seeing Bucky tug you into the kitchen so he could kiss you. "You're 6 feet tall and built like a line backer, you can't exactly hide, son"

Bucky pouts at you while you giggle hearing your father snort from the living room.

"He's right, y'know" you nuzzle into your husband while he engulphs you in his arms. You squeal when he hoists you up instead and makes a beeline towards the bedroom. You still stir something in him to this day and since your dad was there to babysit anyway...

"Bucky, where are we going"

"To go make baby #3"

[catdia]

Lost in a Wild Rune

“Jayce— p-please slow down.” You whined. Throat straining against his hand.

He had you pressed against the wall of his abandoned workshop. Entering you with one thrust of his hips.

You came to his workshop to mourn his memory. Walk around the now ice cold fire pit and touch all those unfinished projects he had laying around.

Instead you found a broken Jayce, longer hair and full beard. Beautiful amber eyes uneasy and intense like never before. Talis hammer distorted with a Gem stone no longer blue.

A short emotion filled reunion. Hands grasping his dirty ruined coat. Nails digging into his clothing to see if this all was real. That he was flesh and bone.

You had so many questions about what and why. Before you could even get them out your mouth he claimed you with a kiss. Stripping you of your bottoms and shoved into a cold wall.

“I missed you so much, baby. I’ve become crazy without you.” He moan into your ear. Teeth sinking into your neck. Marking your skin red.

What happened to the man that used to make love to you so tenderly? The one that would give and give, and never take.

You refuse to believe that the man that was fucking you so hard was your lover.

He was pounding away at your entrance. Leg brace scrapping the outsides of your thighs. Your ass bouncing against his pelvis each time he thrusted into your weeping cunt. Other hand holding your arms behind your back making your wrists hurt.

He was so hairless before. Claiming he liked to be groomed for you. But seeing him shirtless with hair on his chest and a happy trail pointing to his cock made your cunt drool.

Jayce smelled of musk. The hand on your neck calloused by the lack of gloves. He wasn’t the council member you last saw.

He was just a man with the primal urge to fuck. And that made you unbelievably willing.

“Jayce, please, i-it’s too much!” tears were escaping your eyes. Your moans and cries echoed through the workshop walls. As if those walls were mocking you.

“My beautiful girl.”

He growled like an animal, having your velvety walls contract on his shaft was pure heaven. After months of pain and mental strain your skin was a much needed pill.

Balls slapping against your little abused clit deliciously. They were so backed up and heavy. Full of creamy seed. Head of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. Squirming to get out of his hold, fearing of cumming too quickly. You wanted to savor his lust.

You almost forgot how big he was. Without any prep the shock of having him inside you was great, the burn was mouthwatering.

“How I’ve missed this pussy. Fuck, can’t wait to breed you.” He moaned between hollow breaths.“Should have done it sooner. I need to make you mine, baby.”

You were his the moment you met. Forever and always.

“Make me yours, Jayce. Fuck me full with your fat cock!”

He let go of your arms and neck. You braced yourself on the cold concrete. Palms violently grabbing the flesh of your hips, dragging them to meet the start of his shaft and all the way to the tip.

“Give yourself to me, muñeca—”

He came screaming your name, coating your cervix in white.

“Ohhh, fuck.” Jayce pulled you flat on his chest.

His hands pressing on your lower tummy. The pressure made you see stars, throwing your head back on his shoulder. Arching your back. Jayce captured your lips in a kiss, beard scratchy against your chin.

He made quick work of your clit with his fingers. Slapping her a few times making your body shiver and whine out.

“Jayceeeeee— I’m gonna cum!”

“Cream all over my cock, baby.” You came on his shaft. Body convulsing by the lack of release you haven’t had in months.

“That’s it, that’s it…” Jayce slowly pulled out with a hiss. Spreading your cheeks apart to see his cum dripping out of your swollen lips.

Your legs were like jelly, if it wasn’t for him turning his back against the wall and sliding you down to the floor your knees you have been bleeding.

Jayce wrapped his arms around you. They were more muscular than you remembered. You were all fucked out. Hair in every direction, sweat coating your brow. But this Jayce didn’t care.

He was smelling your body, nuzzling his nose into every crevice of your skin. Licking and tasting you as if you were going to disappear.

A giggle filled Jayce’s ears.

“Your beard is tickling me, baby.”

He smiled like a lunatic. Kissing the back of your hand. “It is? Do you like it?”

“Mmm I love it, Jayce. And the hair too.” You said tracing his jaw with your knuckles.

You missed each other’s joy so much.

You saw the pain in his eyes, one of a massive headache that cannot even be controlled by morphine. The way the lines of his nose scrunched up in discomfort. What happened to your lover?

The hormones of sex and bliss slowly diminishing.

“What happend to you? Why did you leave me alone?” You broke down in his chest. Ugly crying like he has never seen before.

“Sshhh, baby, please don’t cry. I’m right here with you.” Jayce cradled your head in his large palms. Bringing his lips up to your eyes and drinking your tears.

“I don’t even know where to begin…”

“Start with why the Hexcore has tuned into an angry human tissue sample.”

You pushed a strand of hair behind his ears. Massaging the sides of his temple with little pressure. Making him sigh in relief.

His gaze was focused, like the young inventor you saw for the first time in his blown-up apartment.

“Ok. Well, it all happened so fast after the attack—”

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Four

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Descriptions of past domestic violence, past abuse, past sexual assault, SANE exam. Death scene in relation to reader's job. Stalking. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Trauma. PTSD. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Comfort. Soft dads. Johnny is a shameless flirt.

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday sweet Penny-“ 

Their baby shrieks at the crest in the song, smile shoving her plump cheeks upwards, little fists banging on her highchair tray. She has no idea what’s going on, Johnny imagines, but he knows she’s excited that everyone is singing to her, looking at her, celebrating her. “happy birthday to you!” She swings a hand forward, plunging into the buttercream icing of the cupcake, fingers digging in as much as she can. Johnny can't help but give her the biggest kiss he can manage while trying to dodge the flying food, and Simon laughs over his shoulder. 

“Atta girl.” Simon encourages, trying to peel the wrapper so she can get more in her mouth, icing and cake all over his fingers now too, and Johnny wanders for a second, imagining something certainly not appropriate for their daughter’s first birthday. 

“Can’t believe your kid is a year old.” Kyle says from behind him, two beers in his hand. “Feels like yesterday you were even tellin’ us she existed.” 

“Time is movin’ too fast.” Johnny agrees, taking a long sip as Simon pulls Pen from the highchair, white and blue icing all over her face, arms, and hands. Kyle is right, it is hard to believe it’s been a year, hard to believe that their baby is already one, growing up right before their eyes, taking her first steps, saying her first words. He knows it won’t be long until she’s really talking, running, riding a bike, going to school… thoughts of the future forming a lump in the back of his throat that sticks like taffy. 

Simon steps into his orbit with Penny in his arms, keeping her turned outwards away from his body, half tilted to avoid the sticky smear of icing that’s painted all over her. 

“What is it?” he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips against Johnny’s cheek, warm breath fanning over his skin. 

“Nothin’ ah-“ Penny babbles, head tipped back, gazing at him with wide, pretty eyes, and Johnny rubs a knuckle across her messy cheek. “she’s gettin’ so big. Feel like ‘m missing it, sometimes. Like I should be here.” Simon sighs. 

“Johnny-“ 

“I know, I know.” They made this decision, together. They chose what was best for their family, even though they both knew the distance, the time apart, would sting.  

“The option is always there if you want to swap. Though I think we both know you’d lose your head behind a desk.” He nods, but the longing lingers, and Simon reads him right through to his heart, like always. “After this next op, let’s sit down and talk about it. Maybe we can make some adjustments for next year.” 

“Ah love ye.” 

“I love you too.” He shifts Pen into his side, inclining his head towards her grubby hands. “Can you wash her up?” She reaches for him, trying to latch around his neck, and he rubs her back, cooing into her hair. 

“Whit happened to my precious bairn, eh? Where’d she go?” Pen giggles, fingers finding his nose, long strands of his hair with a tug, and he playfully lifts her, mouth against her tummy, blowing loud raspberries over her shirt that has her absolutely screaming with glee. 

“Da. Dadadada-“ she babbles at him. 

“C’mon wee lamb, let’s go get ye into some clean clothes.” 

There’s an envelope shoved under your front door.

The shitty carpet in the hallway is too high, threads jagged, so it sits a little crumpled, half wedged beneath the bottom and the floor.

It’s manilla. Letter sized. Stepping over it to get inside, you immediately notice the lack of postage. Or addressing. Or anything at all, that would signify that it had been delivered by proper authorities.

It’s from him. 

You know it is, even though you try to find any other rational reasoning, anything that could explain the mystery behind the envelope and how it got here.

You know. You know it’s probably a letter. Handwritten. Signed in perfect penmanship. You know it’s probably something foul, sick words twisted into terrifying sentences.

You kick it inside and let it sit there for a few minutes. You get changed, get into comfortable clothes, start your kettle. You wrap your sweater tight around your body and lean against your countertop, staring at the offensive tan-beige paper that lays in the middle of the floor.

It’s from him. 

He knows where you are. 

“That’s impossible.” You answer yourself aloud, fingers curled so tight into your palms that they make little crescent moon shapes in your skin.

Your illusion, delusion, of safety, anonymity, is easily washed away by the appearance of the envelope, and whatever lurks inside it.

It’s too soon. 

You didn’t make it.

It’s not a letter inside the envelope at all.

It’s a photo.

A photo of you, taken in harsh hospital lighting, dated over two years ago. It’s taken from the shoulders up, skin bare and exposed, fresh impact bruising around your neck, eye starting to swell, lip crusted with blood.

You remember this photo. You remember the awful experience of the SANE exam, the drive to the hospital that took over two hours because you had to go to another state, just in case.

You hadn’t changed. Hadn’t showered. Your white eyelet blouse, one of your favorites, was splattered red, bright ruby dried a dark wine by the time you pulled into the little county hospital.

You remember the way it felt, to have your clothes put in a bag. To be handled by gloved fingers, with care and attention. The same way you had done for others before that day, and since.

“What’s your name?” your nurse had asked you, so cautiously, so kind. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” She tried to promise, but you knew the truth. There was nowhere you could run, not a single place you could hide, where a shadow wouldn’t find you.

The girl, the woman, in the photo is the same person that looks back at you in the mirror every day, except now she’s buried beneath layers and layers of function, schedule, consistency. She’s silenced by distraction. By work.

By fear.

You flip it over with trembling hands, looking for the note or signature you know will be there. Like a greedy, starved pig; he cannot help himself. 

Found you. 

Bile rockets up your esophagus and into your mouth. How long will he toy with you this time?

“Hey, you okay?” Nia asks, frowning at you from her locker.

“Yeah, just slept like shit.” You roll your shoulders, emphasizing the half-truth. You really did sleep poorly, fragments of nightmares keeping you suspended in twilight sleep, clips of memories morphed into the snapping. bloodied jaw of a monster who reared their head every time your REM cycle started, and it shows. In your face, your posture, your skin. You look awful, the only thing really holding you together the resolve you have to push through, to get it together, to leave the envelope and its contents behind in your mind. You’re safer inside these walls above anywhere else, that you know is true. Your safety. Your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here. “You know how it is.” You add, and she chuckles.

“Tell me about it. Thought I was going to love overnights, but the sleep schedule is brutal.”

“You get used to it.” You assure her, the two of you making your way down the hall to the pit, and she shrugs.

“If you say so.”

You stand outside of two sixty-eight for too long. People pass you in the hallway, eyes curious, and you pretend to scroll through the tablet, decidedly trying to distract yourself from the dread that’s gathered like a sailor’s knot in the pit of your stomach.

You’re a professional. This behavior is definitely unprofessional. Get yourself together. 

You try, filling your lungs with a deep breath, but you can’t shake the shame, the mortification that is curdling in your stomach at the idea of facing Simon and Johnny after the code black situation last week.

“Go sit with Johnny.”

“Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

Will they be angry that you were so rattled? Could they tell? 

Your watch alarm beeps, and you uncurl your spine.

Buck up. 

You’re both anxious, and relieved, that Johnny is asleep when you finally step inside. Simon sits in his usual spot, paperback book’s spine split in the palm of his hand, and at first… he doesn’t even look up. Not until you clear your throat, and he startles in the chair, eyes snapping up to find yours. “Hi.” He frowns.

“What day is it?”

“Uh, it’s Wednesday?”

“I thought you start your week on Thursdays.” That makes your eyebrows raise, uncontained surprise filtering through you. He knows your schedule? Butterflies thrash in your stomach at the notion, something hot flooding your veins as you blink at him.

“I’m on OT.” You drift towards the other side of the bed, eyeing Johnny’s monitor before lifting the blanket to peek at his elevated leg. “How is he?”

“Uncomfortable. The burn debridement has been… difficult.”  You chew on the inside of your cheek. They better not be letting Simon even stand outside and watch that through the window, you think. You’ll have to follow up with whoever is on days.

“Healing burns can be a long and painful process.” You tell him, pulling back the blanket a little further. “I’ll be quick, try to let him get enough sleep as possible.”

“He’ll be sad he missed you.” Simon answers, still watching your every movement, eyes dark and focused above the black cloth mask. The intensity in them catches you off guard when you meet his gaze, hair on the back of your neck standing up straight, and you swallow.

“Well, I’ll still be here in the morning when he wakes so…” you trail off awkwardly, choosing to direct your attention to the scaffolding that’s supporting his femur and hip, checking his sutures for any redness or swelling.

“Do you work a lot of overtime?” Simon asks at the same as he leans forward to brush a stray lock of hair from Johnny’s forehead. The touch is so tender, so gentle, it makes your heart bleed inside your chest, blood warming beneath your skin, captivating your attention until he’s tearing his eyes away from Johnny, and latching onto yours with an expectant expression.

“Oh. Um. Sometimes?”

“Seems like a lot.” He comments, words lazily pulled from his lips, his tone soft, nearly a whisper. “Must make it difficult to spend time with your family, or partner.”

“Oh, I don’t have one of… those.” You immediately refute, pulling up short before the word those, embarrassment making your nose burn. Why are you telling him this? Why are you announcing to a stranger that you’re practically a recluse loner? 

Simon’s head tilts, and he looks like he’s about to say something but your tablet chimes, insistent and loud, signaling a vitals issue in another room.

“E-excuse me.” You stumble, and he nods, turning his attention back towards Johnny.

One… two… three… four…One… two… three… four… One… two-

The count in your head is second nature at this point, turning over and over after four as your arms, back and core start to scream, your breaths coming in shorter. Where the fuck is he? 

The count continues to roll on, lactic acid building up through your muscles, and you take another deep breath, as much as you can manage. The pain is familiar, it’s necessary, it’s a part of your job, but today, it’s burrowing itself beneath your skull, tugging and tearing at the memories that you’ve buried deep.

Pain. Gnarled and knotted strands of associations pull free from the confines of compartmentalization, stretching out across the front of your mind.

One… two… three… four…

You think about the photo. About being on your back, in a bed like this, lost inside the maze of a panic attack while the NP took photos between your legs. While they swabbed for DNA inside of you, under your fingernails, in your mouth. It’s funny how certain things can stick with you, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling as your bloodied clothes were shoved inside, how you can’t sleep on your back now, the way you counted the ceiling tiles over and over that day. One… two… three… four…

“How long has it been?” Nia asks from the other side of the bed, hand steadily squeezing the bag at the correct rate, still watching the monitor like a hawk.

“At least ten minutes.” You glance at the shade pulled over the window, grateful you remembered when you came running in here, the patient’s family standing just outside the door, holding their breath, hoping you’re in here bringing their beloved granny back, when in reality, you’re just traumatizing her body. You’ve already broken one of her ribs, and you’re worried if you keep going, her sternum will fracture too. It’s not fair. “Where the fuck is he?” you hiss between breaths, anger starting to heat your skin, irritation clear in your tone. This isn’t even your patient. Lazy, slacker, pompous ass, where the fu-

“How long has it been?” The nervous voice just inside the door calls, and your head snaps up.

Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. 

“Eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds. Where is Marshall?”

“He- he sent me.” You shake your head. Nia sighs.

“Have you pronounced before?”

“Um. No.”

“And where is Marshall?” You ask again, just to clarify, and the resident swallows.

“I uh, don’t know.” Normally, a resident’s first pronouncement would be supervised by their attending. But since this one’s attending is Marshall, a grade A prick that you can’t stand, it looks like he’ll be on his own.

“Great. Okay.” You take a huge breath, trying to flex your wrists without losing your position. “It’s been twelve minutes now, and no response. Do you want to check?” He nods, and you chew on the inside of your cheek when he doesn’t verbally respond. “I need you to say it out loud.”

“You can stop compressions.” You immediately wilt, stepping away from the side of the bed, the motion of Nia’s hand also slowing until it stops, and she slumps. Marshall’s resident physically checks for a pulse, listens for breath sounds and then finally, does a sternum rub, to no avail.

“Sh-should I…” they trail off, looking back down at the elderly woman in the bed. The deceased woman, whose family is waiting, desperately. You nod.

“Yes.” You tell the resident gently. You can tell he’s unsure, nervous even, and for a moment, you’re transported back to your first code, when you were a baby nurse, a terrified, bumbling mess that needed help, just like he does. And since Marshall is a piece of shit… “No pulse?” You ask, and they nod. “No breath sounds? No sound of a heartbeat?”

“None.” They answer you confidently, and you manage an encouraging smile.

“No response to painful stimuli, no reaction to the sternum rub?”

“Right. No.”

“Okay. So normally, you could also use a thumbnail to press into their nailbed, if you feel like you need it, if you’re not comfortable with the sternum rub, but-“

“No, no. I’m. Yeah. Okay.” They too, take a deep breath, and check their watch. “Time of d-death… twenty one forty five.”

“Great job.” You tell him, pulling the blanket back up around her shoulders. “Do you feel comfortable speaking with the family?” He blanches, and Nia’s work phone dings, signaling another patient’s needs. You sigh for the eightieth time tonight. “Okay. Come on, we’ll do it together.”

The supply closet welcomes you with open arms. It hides you in the low light of it’s forgotten space, and when you fall into the chair, your face drops into your palms, pressing so hard into them that you start to see stars. The curtain falls. The walls of your sanctuary start to feel frail. 

Found you, found you.

He found you. 

Get it together. Get yourself together. 

“Hey, there she is. Missed ye.” Johnny coos, eyes half shut, sleepy and sweet.

“Johnny.” Simon rumbles his name like a warning, one your patient doesn’t seem to heed, still blinking slowly at you with a sly look on his face.

“Had a dream about ye, pretty girl. Dreamt ye were at ho-“

“Alright.” Simon cuts him off, swiftly. Patients often have vivid, weird dreams when they’re all dosed up on medication, and it’s not the first time someone has slurred out some weird vision they’ve had of you in their sleep.

“Good morning to you too.” You quip, glancing at the catheter bag before putting your hands on your hips. “How are you feeling?”

“’m alright. Stomach hurts.” You frown.

“Can you tell me where the pain is?” He motions to his upper right, the area where his newly repaired liver is sitting, and you nod, pulling out your phone immediately to update his doctor. Could be nothing. Could be something. Not for you to determine, but you won’t let it go unnoticed, and you’ll make sure it’s top of mind during shift report. “Can I check your side?” You motion to where his burn is lightly wrapped, and he nods with a sheepish smile.

“Aye, sure can. Ye can take my clothes off anytime.” You roll your eyes, unbuttoning his gown at the shoulder, peeling the gauze away very slowly. The wound looks better than you were expecting, if you’re being honest, and it relieves some of the anxiety that curled up in the pit of your stomach after his admission of upper right quadrant pain. “Yer hands are warm, bun. Feels nice.” Bun? You opt to ignore it. Probably still a little floaty.

“Good, that’s… good. Better than them being icicles.” Your hand brushes across the center of his abdomen when you pull the rest of the dressing away, and he tenses, ab muscles becoming clearly defined, enough that you stall out for a second before turning away to grab fresh gauze for his wound care, hands just a little unsteady. “Oh, fuck.” You mutter when the pack slips, sliding halfway under the little table that’s along the wall, and you sigh, whirling away from both of them and bending at the waist to tiptoe your fingers across the floor until you feel the corner of crinkly plastic. “Gotcha!” When you straighten, turning back towards the bed, Johnny and Simon are staring at you, and there’s a glee filled smile on Johnny’s face, it’s presence both mischievous and beguiling, fingers of his good hand slowly rubbing circles into the inside of Simon’s forearm. “What?”

“Nothing. Ignore him.” Simon deadpans, and then shoots his partner a very serious look, one that nearly has you straightening like you’re in trouble.

“Ach.” Johnny huffs, stroking a gentle touch upwards across Simon’s jaw as you start to reapply his dressing, taking your time to ensure everything looks good and he’s comfortable. You smooth over it once you’re satisfied, checking for any precarious pieces of tape. “Ye take such good care o’ me.” Johnny murmurs, accent soft and scratchy. It’s decadent the way his voice sounds sometimes, enough to make your throat dry and the room feel too hot. “Got lucky, didnae we, Si?”

“Well, it’s m-my job.” You answer, trying not to look down at where his chest and stomach are still exposed, or get caught in the cerulean blue waves of his eyes. They’re such a stark contrast to the intense, velvety hue of Simon’s, the pointed focus of his gaze that’s able to stun you, throw you off kilter the same time Johnny’s makes you feel overheated, and lightheaded. Both of them together could drown you. Overwhelm you.

Balanced. A yin and a yang. 

Get it together. This is your patient and his partner, for gods sake. What is wrong with you? 

Something warms brushes along the skin of your knuckles, a fleeting touch, and when you look down, you see Johnny’s hand, two fingers barely stroking yours, the lightest touch catching your breath in your chest like time is slowing to a crawl, and you’re freezing along with it.

Everything goes quiet in your head.

Simon’s watching you, methodically studying you like he’s trying to decipher every twitch in your expression as Johnny’s fingertips move over your knuckles to the back of your hand, thumb slipping into your palm, blazing heat sparking beneath it.

What… what is happening? 

A phone vibrates. The noise snaps you free from your near statuesque state, and they both divert their attention to its screen. 

“They’re here.” Simon tells him, glancing at you before looking back to his partner. “Be good.” He warns, and Johnny rolls his eyes in response, but he looks almost… desperate now, eyes wide and anxious. 

“Hurry?” he asks, hopefully, Simon leaning down to press mask covered lips to his forehead, his eyes shuttering closed, deep breath passing between their two bodies.

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’m really concerned about the pain in his upper right quadrant. I already sent a text, but if his doctor isn’t on this floor in the next hour, page him again.” The dayshifter nods, tapping a note into her phone. “And Marshall’s resident is practically unsupervised, so keep an eye out.”

“Okay, sounds good.” You mention a few other things, details you noticed throughout your day, and she thanks you for the extra eye, sending you off with a parting wave into the cold, crisp morning, your mind already skipping over your commute to when you’ll be able to sink into your bed one last time.

You’re busy compiling a list as you wait for the elevator. Necessities, things you’ll need indefinitely as you bounce back and forth between a rotation of hotels and on-call rooms, all the usual stuff, clothes, toiletries, and all the important things that can’t be left behind, your birth certificate, passport, other things that could make or break you if lost.

Deep breath. You can do this. It’s not the first time. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again. 

The elevator dings. You take a step forward, not paying attention, and then pull up short when you see who’s getting out.

It’s Simon stepping towards you, with a baby girl in his arms. She’s situated on his hip, nestled into his side and for a second, you falter because… you recognize her. Or at least you think you do... she looks just like the little girl you saw last week.

“Um. Hi.” You blurt, failing to notice at first that he’s not alone, the man from the first night you met them, the one with the mustache standing behind the width of Simon’s body, his arm curled around the woman you saw last week. They step into view, and you give them all a polite smile, one you really hope doesn’t betray your confusion. 

“Hi,” he says your name next, says it so softly it feels tender, and then takes another step closer. “This is Penelope. Our daughter.” Oh. Oh.

They have a baby. A girl. They have a little girl. You don’t know why, but something inside you stumbles, melting into a frazzled, awkward mess, heart thumping in your chest. They have a baby, and Johnny almost died. They have a kid and he’s been trapped in this hospital, miserable in pain, missing his kid. “Pen, this is your Da’s favorite nurse.”

“Bunny.” The baby, Penelope, says, little finger stretching out towards your badge, which is facing outwards with the giant sparkly sticker. Simon chuckles, genuinely, masked lips pressing to her cheek, and you see a glimpse of a father, a protector, a provider. It makes you feel dizzy.

“We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, and you nod like a robot, unable to really form a word with your tongue. “Alright baby girl. Let’s go see your Da, yeah?”

[bwabys-scenarios]

Princess(NSFW)

Yandere!Kurapika x Chubby!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: nsfw, breeding, yandere behavior, Kurapika is enamored with you, reader’s body is made fun of(not by Kurapika), violence, death

A/N: the food throwing scene is based on something that happened to me in school LOL

HXH Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @atransmuter @sweetmiri

He can’t get enough of you, really. From the moment he met you, Kurapika was immediately pulled in by your sweet voice and soft frame.

Everything from your cute chubby cheeks to your pretty plump lips had his heart racing.

Of course, Kurapika wasn’t the type to talk for looks alone. You were more kind and patient than he thought possible, always there for him when he needed support or comfort, and never getting upset when he would leave for unspecified periods of time.

You were always so understanding, so sweet and unapologetically you. A ray of sunshine was the only way he could describe you. Even the cloudiest days couldn’t dull your shine.

To him, you were an angel, his princess. Anything you asked for, he would hand deliver if it meant you would give him that pretty smile of yours.

He just adored you endlessly, nothing made him more happy than being by your side.

Kurapika, however, was unfortunately quite shy. It’s not that he didn’t want to share his feelings with you, he just… was afraid of rejection. So, while on missions or away from you, he would stare at your picture, sighing as he dreamed of a life where the two of you could be together.

It wasn’t long before his little crush started to grow into something more… obsessive. After all, the two of you were close, were you not? When he would announce he was coming to visit, you would drop all other plans so you’d be available for him. That meant something, right?

So today, as he took you shopping, Kurapika decided it was about time to tell you how he really felt.

“How does this look?”

You walked out of the changing room in a tight miniskirt and a sweater, making Kurapika glad he wore his loose fitted tabard today.

You plump tummy and soft thighs made his dick twitch, and he cleared his throat as he crossed his legs, his cheeks red. “Y-you look great, (Name).”

Once you changed, he added the clothes to the steadily growing pile of things he wanted to buy you. Kurapika couldn’t help it, you just looked amazing in everything you put on.

Kurapika paid for your clothes before taking his hand in yours. “How about some ice cream? It’s pretty warm out.”

“Ooo, that sounds really yummy-“

The two paused when they heard someone muffling their laugh nearby. Kurapika eyes narrowed before cutting to the left.

“Pfft! Are you sure she needs ice cream?”

You shrunk into yourself as a group of girls and their boyfriends laughed to themselves. Kurapika hated this, he hated seeing you try to hide yourself due to the rude comments of others. You never had anything bad to say about another person, so why were you the one always being insulted and belittled?

“Come on, there’s no need to listen to the words of those with an ugly heart.”

He attempted to guide you away, only for you to yelp when a piece of food was thrown at you.

“There, fatty. If you’re so hungry, eat that.”

Kurapika stood completely still, his eyes on the stain now on your sweater. It had been a gift from him, a soft pink cashmere sweater that you loved.

“K-Kurapika, let’s just go…”

After being friends with Kurapika for a long time, you knew that the scarlet hue taking over his eyes meant trouble in this context. You tried to fight back the tears of humiliation and hurt to prevent Kurapika from going on a rampage.

“I-I’m okay, we can just wash my sweater later. Let’s go to m-my apartment…”

He let out a shaky breath, glaring daggers at the group before gently squeezing your hand. “Alright, angel. Let’s go.”

You sighed in relief, unaware that the quick glance Kurapika made was enough to pick up on several things to later identify the group of people.

They wore jackets with a local college’s symbol, and a few of them still had their part time job uniforms on. ‘Not only are they scum, they’re stupid too. It won’t take much to destroy their lives, and they handed me their information on a silver platter.’

But he wasn’t focused on that now. Kurapika instead shifted his attention to you. Just like you knew when he was about to snap, he knew when you were about to break.

“(Name)… you don’t have to keep up a brave face. What those people said was rude and uncalled for.”

He brought his hand to your face, gently wiping away the stray tears that fell down your soft chubby cheeks. “I’m sorry, (Name). Today was supposed to be a fun day out. Now it’s ruined…”

“It’s not your fault…” you said softly, leaning into his touch. “I was… getting tired anyways. We can hang out at my apartment for a bit instead, eat some snacks and watch a movie.”

Kurapika smiled, his eyes softening as he gave your cheek a light squeeze. “That sounds lovely. I much prefer time spent alone with you to days out anyways.”

————————

Kurapika was currently trying his best not to get hard as (Name) snuggled up with him on the couch, your head resting on his chest.

It wasn’t easy being in love with (Name) and not knowing if you felt the same. You were so sweet and affectionate, always wanting to be held and cared for, but he wasn’t sure if you wanted this attention from him alone, or if you were just this way with everyone.

“Kurapika, kisses…”

His head felt fuzzy and he could hardly move without the bulge forming in his pants throbbing, but Kurapika leaned down and peppered kisses on your cheeks and forehead. “Are you feeling any better now?”

You smiled, your chubby cheeks warm as you leaned into his snuggles. “Yeah… I feel very warm and happy right now.”

He traced circles into the soft flesh of your belly, nuzzling his face against your neck. “That’s a relief. I never want to see you upset, (Name).”

His warm breath fanned against your neck, his lips grazing your jaw. It made you feel funny, and your squirming didn’t escape his watch.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft… but with a husky edge. Kurapika traced circles into your thigh with the tip of his fingers.

You shivered, and that caught his attention. His eyes lit up before he smirked, gently groping your fat thigh. “Come on, if something’s wrong you should tell me, sweetheart…”

“Mmph… feels weird, Pika… when you get this close I feel all warm and fuzzy…”

He felt something warm spreading through his body, and when he began to subconsciously guide your hips over the bulge in his pants, the two of you both moaned in unison.

Kurapika was quick to slip your skirt up, his hand groping your soft, fleshy ass. Your panties were soaked, he could see the wet spot spreading as his fingers lightly ran over your clothed clit.

Every soft whine and whimper that left your plump lips had his cock twitching, begging for release. He wanted you to know how much he desired you, how badly he needed to be inside your pretty, fat pussy.

Although all he wanted to do was slip your panties to the side and fuck you right there, Kurapika was in love with you. He didn’t want his first time with you to be quick and fueled by lust.

So he scooped you up, much to your chagrin. You whined and complained, but he shut you up with a kiss to your forehead.

“Holding you in my arms is the highest honor. (Name)… I adore you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He laid you down on your bed, pinning your wrists above you head before kissing down your neck. “I want you…”

Your little plea for him made him bite back a groan. He could tell that you were getting restless by the way your hips bucked into his. You… wanted him.

“You already have me…” he murmured, your panties being tugged down with one hand while his lips met yours. “My body, heart, and soul, it all belongs to you. It has since the moment we met.”

The two of you shared a kiss as his tip pressed into you. He held onto your hand, letting you squeeze it as he entered you for the first time.

He was in heaven, nothing had ever given him so much pleasure before. Kurapika bit on his lip, trying not to cum on the spot.

“God, (Name)…”

He pulled back his hips and pushed back in, shuddering I’m ecstasy.

“P-Pika…”

He blinked, the fog of pleasure clearing from his mind. Tears were pouring down your burning cheeks, and he could see a bit of blood dripping from your warm cunt.

He was your first.

“F-fuck, (Name)..!”

Kurapika panicked, instantly leaning forward to check you over. You were sniffling, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

“J-just hurts a little… my first time…” you managed to get out through your sniffles.

Soft, sweet kisses were placed all over your face, and he nuzzled your cheek. “I’m so sorry, princess. I…”

You leaned into his kisses, nuzzling him back. “It’s okay… I know you’d never hurt me on purpose…”

The two of you lay there, connected in the most intimate way while you shared kisses and soft words of love. It was enough to make you blush, seeing how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

The pain ebbed away into pleasure, and soon enough you were moving your hips, your eyes growing hazy. “M-mmm… can you..?”

“Y-yeah…”

He was panting too, hips stuttering as he tried his best to hold back for you. If anyone on this planet loved you, it was Kurapika.

The second his cock pulled out and fully sunk into you again, you both let out a breathy moan. It’s like the two of you were in sync.

He buried his face into your neck as his hips rutted into yours, only the sounds of skin agaisnt skin and whines of pleasure could be heard in that dark room.

“I love you… god, I love you so much (Name)…”

The next day, dark hickeys would litter your neck, but tonight it looked so tender and pure… he had to cover it in his marks so everyone would know you were taken.

Each bite, each suck had you crying out, pain mixing with pleasure. His grip on your hips was like iron, keeping you in place so he could pound into your pussy until you saw stars.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. Kurapika had always been gentle with you, never in a million would he ever think of hurting you on purpose, but tonight he left unintentional bruises everywhere he touched you.

He just had to have you as close as possible, your bodies pressed against each other so closely that you could feel his heart beat against your breast.

All he could think of was cumming inside of you, the thought of your belly heavy and swollen with his young flooding his mind.

And by the end of the night, he was curled up around you, his finger tracing circles over your belly. Both of you were exhausted, but happy.

“I love you too, Kurapika…” you whispered, resting your head on his chest as you drifted off.

His fingers gently played with your hair as he lost himself in thought. If he wanted you to be happy and safe… he would have to get his hands dirty.

Kurapika never wanted you to be sad again… and he had an idea on how to help.

——————

The sound of something big being dragged across the floor could be heard, along with a wet THWACK!

“P-please! We’re sorry, we d-didn’t know she was important to you! Just let us go!”

Kurapika dragged a man by the hair and threw him against the wall, his form slumping before falling on top of the various other bodies that were piling up.

“Let you go? No… I couldn’t risk that. How do I know you wouldn’t just find another person to take out all of your anger on?”

Kurapika held up a piece of paper, waving it in the man’s face. “Your mother abandoned you when you were just a child, and now you take out your mommy issues on women that look like her.”

The picture revealed a plump woman in her thirties that had the same body type as you.

He tilted his head towards a girl that was tied up, her head still fuzzy from being drugged. “Does your girlfriend over there know you’re a serial killer? You spend your days harassing random women on the street, then bring women that look like your mother home to torture them before they’re slaughtered.”

Kurapika stabbed the man through the leg, causing screams to tear through the cool night air. “You’ve gotten off easy for domestic abuse charges because your father is on the police force… but I’m not sure daddy can save you now.”

He stepped on the man’s face, taking a drag off of a cigarette. You hated him smoking, but right now he needed it. “I was going to just beat the shit out of you until you got the message… but seems like letting you back on the streets is just going to put my princess in danger.”

After putting the cigarette out on the man’s eye and listening to him scream, Kurapika brought down his foot again and again until all that was left was a bloody mush.

By then, the woman had begun waking up, and screamed. “N-no, don’t hurt me!”

The blonde turned, blood splattered across his face. “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He pulled out a gun and shot her, then sighed. “See? An instant death.”

Fire spread across the area, the smell of burning skin and flesh alerting people nearby. Kurapika had already fled the scene, and was washing off at a hotel.

Killing wasn’t something he enjoyed… but if it was for you, he could do it. He never wanted you to be afraid or in danger, and anyone who made you cry was unforgivable.

You were sitting on the couch, watching a movie when he got home. It was late, but thankfully you were still up. After all that killing, he needed the comfort.

“Pika, you’re just in time! I just started this new movie, I heard it’s really good!”

He smiled, plopping down next to you and leaning his head in your shoulder. You smelt so good and your body was warm and inviting, he couldn’t hep but bring you close and bury his face into your neck.

“You know I would do anything for you, right (Name)?”

His scarlet eyes looked up at you, and for a moment… you were strangely uneasy. They seemed almost… crazed.

“W-what do you mean?”

But as quick as you spotted it, his eyes were back to normal. “Nothing, nothing.”

He pulled you into his lap, inhaling your scent. “What’s the movie about?”

You knew Kurapika had violent tendencies… but in your heart, you wanted to believe he was a good man, and would never hurt anyone. He was your lover, your best friend… but god did you worry about him.

As the two of you went to sleep that night, he held you as close as possible, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I would kill for you, you know… and… maybe I already have.”

You weren’t sure why he said that all of a sudden, but he stayed completely calm, as if it was the most normal statement in the world.

“Kurapika… you don’t have to do that… please… don’t.”

You caressed his cheek, looking into his soft brown eyes… and decided to ignore his words.

“Goodnight, love.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he held your face in his hands. “(Name)…”

Before he could say anything else, he sighed and smiled fondly at you. “… goodnight.”

As you slept, a strange possessive feeling crept into his heart, and his grip tightened until you whimpered in his sleep.

He would kill for you, end anyone that tried to hurt you or take you away…

Kurapika kissed the top of your head and promised himself that he’d toss his morals aside if it meant keeping you safe.

Anything for you, his princess.

[luveline]

also idk if it’s cold enough for this ask yet but kbd winter??? family snowman??

KBD —you, Steve, and the girls make a snowman. 1.3k, mom!r

“Steve, I’m so cold.” 

Steve laughs and shuffles closer to you in the snow-covered grass. Your knees are soaked, your scarf falling from around your neck. “Like, you’re gonna get sick kind of cold?” 

You contemplate this. “No. Probably not.” 

“Good. I need your help with this.” 

A little ways away, your Avery attempts to roll a small ball of snow around the yard. Steve made the snowman’s body, a fat blob in the middle of the grass, while you held Beth. She’s not too young to walk but she’s apprehensive of the snow, and the cold, her nose like ice where it’s hidden in your cheek. 

“You almost done, babe?” you call. 

“No!” 

“Beth’s colder,” you say. 

Steve wrinkles his nose sympathetically. “If you need to head inside, you go.” 

He’s attempting to get buttons from an old coat to stay stuck to the snowman’s stomach. It’s not working. 

You persevere in the chill. The cold is sharp in your throat, but some bad weather won’t kill anyone. You take your scarf off and wrap it around Beth’s neck, though she’s wearing a scarf already, laying it flat and covering her ears. She smiles at you, whispering quietly in the chill, “Thank you.” 

“Is it too cold?” you ask. “Should we go inside?”  

“I wanna see the snowman,” she says. 

You press her to your neck. It hasn’t snowed for hours but the temperature hasn’t warmed either. Avery looks happy as a clam in her snowsuit and her hat, scarf and gloves, all matching, a lavender colour like her boots, though they have a white fur piping to match the snowsuits hanging baubles. Beth is outfitted in the same, but her snowsuit and boots are a cornflower blue. 

You and Steve are in whatever you could find. He has a blue scarf, yours was white. Your coat is one of his from a few years ago, and his gloves are mismatched, but you don’t need matching clothes to make a snowman. 

Your legs really are going to freeze to the floor soon. You stand up as best you can manage, Beth’s weight in your arms an ache you know too well. Steve looks at you in alarm and clambers to his feet. “Here, I’ll have her,” he says, slipping his hands under her arms gently. “You really can go inside if you’re too cold, pretty girl, we’ll be okay.” 

You like being called pretty girl. It warms you up a little. “I’ll help Avery with the head.” 

Steve pulls Beth into his neck, murmuring, “Is it too cold out here, baby? You’ll tell me if you’re too cold, yeah?” He kisses her cheek, turning her face gently to the side. “We did such a good job on the snowman’s tummy. When Avery finishes the head, we’ll put it on top and give him his arms and his carrot nose.” 

“Can I do the nose?” she asks. The way she speaks is adorable, so young still, each word an effort to string to the next. 

“Yeah, if Avery can do the arms and the eyes. Is that fair?” 

Avery pushes the snowball she’s created forward with a great oomf. Snow crunches under your boots, thick and soft. “Need help?” you ask. 

“Please, mom.” 

Avery’s raises her nose at you. When she smiles, she reminds you endlessly of Steve. Her eyes are almond shaped like his, brown and hedged with lashes that twitch as you approach. You rub the top of her head through her hat. “Let’s roll it over by the swing, babe. The snow’s real thick there.” 

You and Avery manoeuvre the head. Steve and Beth search for suitable arms at the edge of the yard where the trees like to shed. 

“Mom?” Avery says. 

You huff as you push the ball over again. “Yeah?” 

“It’s not round.” 

“I’m gonna build it up, my baby, don’t worry.”

“Will it fall off the tummy?” 

“We’re gonna make the bottom flat. Don’t worry, baby, seriously, me and daddy have made lots of snowmen. Like, some when we were kids, and some before you were born. He made a really huge one when I was pregnant with you, actually. He said my baby bump inspired him.” 

“Was it big?” 

“Right at the end.” You poke at the bottom of your stomach. “When you’re a baby, you try very hard not to take up too much space in mommy’s tummy, but after a while you get too big and it makes my stomach change shape. Because you were my first, you stayed in one place for a long time. It was right at the end when I popped. I couldn’t help daddy too much with the snowman, actually, ‘cos I was so slow.” 

“Popped?” Avery asks worriedly. 

You squeeze your cold fingers into balls, smiling at her horrified nose wrinkle. “Sorry, it’s just an expression. What it means is that it was a surprise to have my tummy get so big. It happened overnight. Your dad found it super funny.” 

Steve crunches toward you with twigs in one hand, Beth the other. It’s… a really good look on him, this one armed carry. “It was crazy! With Beth, mommy’s tummy grew slowly. But with you, it was like she wasn’t even having a baby for a while, and then wow!” He offers you Beth, who you take immediately, and bends down to pack snow against the sides of the snowman’s eventual head. He sniffs as he does, but doesn’t mention being cold. “This is awesome, Ave. Do you think it’s time to put it on the tummy?” 

“Yeah!” she says, clapping. 

Steve hoists the head into his hands and carries it to the body. He plops it on there with force, making sure it’s steady, and sending the three of you a proud grin when it stays. “Tada!” 

Avery giggles ecstatically. Even Beth laughs in your arms. 

Steve gives Avery her twigs. “Here’s the arms,” he says, pulling his scarf from his neck. “And here’s a scarf for mister snowman.” 

He wraps it around the snowman’s neck. You dig the extra buttons from your pocket as Avery forces the twigs into the snowman’s sides, and Steve retreats to your back door, nipping inside quickly for the carrot. He waves it in the air. “Here you go,” he says, giving it to Beth. “You got her?” he asks you. 

You nod and crouch. Beth’s tongue appears from between her lips as she concentrates, pushing the fat end of the carrot into the snowman’s face, just below the eyes. Steve leans over you to help her when it won’t go in, and then, suddenly, you have a snowman. 

“He doesn’t have a mouth,” Avery says. 

Steve adjusts his scarf. “It’s behind the scarf, honey. He’s got cold lips.” 

She finds this extremely funny, leaning with a syrupy laugh into her dad’s legs. He gets the hint and picks her up, stepping into place beside you, the four of you giving your snowman an appraising look. 

“That’s amazing, huh?” you ask. 

Beth nods into your cheek. She’s warmer than you, but not by much. 

Steve leans over to kiss your cheek. 

A cold gale barrels from the left, sending shivers down everybody’s spines. “Let’s go back inside for some cocoa, yeah?” Steve asks. 

You’re in emphatic agreement. You leave your Frosty to soak in his new home, tracking wet footprints into the kitchen, where Steve turns on the stove’s burners for a quick fix. When you look out the window you smile to yourself, just a little bit proud of yourself for getting such a nice husband, and making such sweet babies. 

Beth sneezes against your neck. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbles. 

Steve’s face drains of any pride. He’s upstairs running a warm bath before you can so much as wipe Beth’s nose. 

[pitchdarkhook]

Molten eyes steadied upon the child who had taken a most unfortunate tumble. In his hands was her hat. Larger than her head. The quilted material was plush beneath his hands. Well made. Someone in that sad underbelly loved her.

“You dropped this,” he said, letting it fall back atop her head.

unprompted. | always accepting.

✩ . — An adventure was awaiting her in the Overworld as Hook exited the cable car station. Honeyed eyes looked around eagerly, for there were new sights to see and new people to meet, even if she had visited this place almost everyday. She picked up her pace, little feet bringing her up to speed as she ran down the street. Perhaps, the girl was too excited, that she did not notice a small ledge sticking out from the side of the road.

❝ Wah— ! ❞

Kicking her feet against the hard gravel made her lose balance, causing her to topple over. Hook let out a quiet grunt at the fresh pain that came from the impact but picked herself back up immediately after. The usual child would have burst into tears, crying about how much it hurt, but not Hook— she had experienced far worse than just this little fall.

Gloved hands brushed the dirt off of her clothes, feeling around the fabric to see if her outfit was still intact. Yet, the cold gust of wind that blew against the top of her head signified that something was missing, her head did feel rather cold...and light.

Just as she was about to look around, she felt something fall on top of her head, something soft and bouncy. It was her beloved hat! Yellow eyes sparkled with happiness as she let out a small, joyful gasp. Holding onto it tight, making sure that it would not fall again— Hook turned around to greet the tall shadow that loomed over her.

His gaze met hers, red irises that were surprisingly cold and...dead. It was an ominous sight, to say the least, but the girl did not seem intimidated at all. Plus, anyone who helped Hook was definitely a good person!

❝Wow! Thank you, kind Mister! ❞ She hopped on the spot, a warm smile gracing upon tiny lips as she expressed her gratitude. But soon after, her hand motioned for him to bend down, and when he did, she leaned in to whisper.

❝ You have to promise not to tell anyone that Pitch-Dark Hook the Great fell on the streets today, okay? It's embarassing... ! ❞

kind at heart. | @rvinfall.

[honeekyuu]

take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter one.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

or

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: suna has two brain cells that rub together like little housefly hands when it comes to yn and literally at no other point

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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

“You know what’s crazy? I haven’t gotten laid in, like, a year.”

Looking back, there was absolutely no need for you to admit that.

But right now, there’s a bottle of wine in your system, and you’re about halfway through a trashy rom-com on a Friday night. It’s not shy on mature scenes, either, which is why you’d said it, your eyes trained almost wistfully on the screen as the two leads stumble through the girl’s front door together and get straight to business.

And it’s only Suna here, also a bottle of wine deep. He won’t judge you for saying it, not when there’s over ten years of moments far worse than this, very securely tying you two together.

He is, however, far more scandalized by your words than you’d expected.

Suna flies up from his sprawled position on your couch, kicking his legs off the coffee table as he turns toward you.

“I beg your most genuine pardon?” He asks, jaw dropped as he stares. You laugh into your wine glass, incredibly tickled and very tipsy.

“You heard me,” You answer, nodding pathetically. His eyes bug out of his head, and you’re glad he’s intoxicated enough to be reacting to this with his most authentic self, the one that’s kind of an idiot and about 150% more expressive than any of your friends could ever peg him to be. 

“A year ?!” He yells, dragging it out annoyingly. “There’s no fucking way, Y/n. No fucking way.”

“Tell that to my dry spell, Sunarin,” You laugh again, shaking your head. “I’ve gotten to know my fingers and also my vibrator rather intimately.” 

You certainly would not have admitted that while sober, but Suna’s just as gone as you are, not skipping a singular beat as he slumps in place.

“That’s so fucked,” He groans, dropping his head to his hands. “This has to be illegal – this is cruel and unusual punishment. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Well, believe it,” You snort, pointing at the ongoing sex scene on the TV. “A year without rain, truly.”

“But why ?” He laughs pathetically, shaking his head as he turns fully to you and leans against the side of the couch. “ Why ?” 

“I don’t know-” You shrug, waving your hand over your own body sarcastically. “Maybe it’s got something to do with this?”

You watch as he drags his gaze down the length of your body slowly, following the trail of your hand. He shakes his head afterward, finding your eyes with unspoken confusion.

You scoff, lifting your glass to him in acknowledgement. “That’s funny.”

“What?” He tilts his head. “What’s your body got to do with it?”

You look down at yourself, wondering if you’d magically become attractive overnight. 

No, still the same. Thighs too thick, a tummy that pushes against your clothes and bunches up into little rolls, stretch marks and cellulite and all the lovely things guys hate to look at.

You’d always been a bigger girl. Food had been a happy place, a place of love and care. Ice cream dates with your dad after school, dinners out with your parents on weekends. Standing in your kitchen at the house in Hyogo – the childhood home that had come with the open doors of your neighborhood friends running in and out to play and snack on your mom’s cooking – and learning the family recipes, listening to your mom’s stern but warm guidance as she’d told you ‘ Do it this way instead, don’t add too much salt ’, the crickets buzzing loudly just outside the window.

High school had made food into a more complicated matter, because it had come with girls who’d poke fun at your uniform, bigger than theirs and still tighter than you were comfortable with. It had come with crushes on boys who would only talk to you to get information about other girls, girls who were worth their time. It had come with a strained relationship with your mother’s cooking, once so safe and kind and pure. You’d tried just about every diet known to man, and nothing had ever worked. 

You’re in a place now where you’re just happy to be able to enjoy food to its full extent, whatever the cost. Good food in the body is more healing for the soul than starving and then binging and then starving again, viciously repeated. You fully believe this, and your mental happiness is the best it’s been in a long time, 26 years old and focused only on feeding yourself with good, clean ingredients and going to bed happy. 

But it had taken a lot to get here, and you’re still recovering from the damage.

Luckily, high school hadn’t been all bad. In fact, Inarizaki High had had a weird way of changing your life. Boys and girls, nameless and faceless now, had ignored you and passed you over, only noticing you so they could use you – their personal entertainment, someone had admitted once. 

But they’d also flocked to and thrown themselves at the feet of the most popular boys in school, vying for attention. The Inarizaki High Boys’ Volleyball Club.

The team was nearly legend, despite being just a group of regular teenage boys. Each player had his own group of fans, all unhinged in their own ways. The worst, unsurprisingly, were the girls attached to Miya Atsumu.

When he’d been assigned as your deskmate at the beginning of 2nd year, you’d felt a deep sense of dread. Would he make fun of you, too? If he did it, the entire school would be pelting insults at you by the end of the week. Would his fangirls start targeting you in worse ways, in the bathroom and during lunch?

But he’d been shockingly kind. Not a word uttered about your appearance or the things you’d eat. But not ignoring you like most boys do, not passing over you like he hadn’t even seen you. 

He’d sat down that first day with a bright grin and a hand stuck out in your direction, all but yelling in your ear that it was nice to meet you and asking why he hadn’t met you before, his drawl heavier than your other classmates’ and a bit endearing, even on first meeting.

‘ I’m a bit forgettable ,’ You’d admitted quietly, but he’d just shot you a strange side glance.

‘ Says who? That ain’t nice. ’ 

You hadn’t known what to do with that.

You hadn’t known what to do with any part of Miya Atsumu, really. Not the daily greetings, screeched down the hall the moment he’d see you. Not the notes he’d pass to you during class, badgering you to become the Volleyball Club’s manager so you could become better friends. Not the way he could always kind of tell if you were upset by something someone said, because he would somehow become even louder after the fact, distracting you via sheer ear damage.

Not the way he’d become cold and detached the first time he’d actually witnessed someone bullying you, the way his bright eyes had dulled into nothing and held no guilt as he’d made a girl cry in front of the whole class.

‘ I don’t want to switch seats with you, ’ You’d told her, shaking your head. ‘ This is the one assigned to me- ’

‘ I don’t give a fuck, ’ She’d spit at you, pointing at her own desk, piled high with snacks from the vending machine. ‘ I left you a trail of food, little piggie – go follow it so that I can sit with Atsumu and give him something good to look at- ’

‘ Somethin’ good, huh? ’ He’d materialized just beside you, staring at the girl emptily. You’d almost been scared of the look in his eye. ‘ And who’s s’posed to give me that, you? ’ He’d cast a cursory glance over her, looking entirely unimpressed. ‘ You look like you couldn’t get through a single conversation with me.’

You’d gasped, eyes wide and watching as he’d flopped down into his chair and thrown his legs up on the desk, forcing the girl to scurry back from where she was leaning threateningly over you. He’d hummed, assessing her through narrowed eyes. ‘ You look like an only child. You an only child? You look it- Oh, no, I got it-’ And then he’d clapped, laughing brightly and nudging you, as though you weren’t frozen in shock. ‘ Don’t she kinda look like a girl you wouldn’t introduce t’your parents? Sure as shit not mine, at least.’  

The girl had long started tearing up, the entire room watching in varying degrees of horror as Atsumu had just pulled a wrapped onigiri from his bag and offered it to you. He’d shot the girl a look of disdain when she’d started wailing, because Miya Atsumu was sharing his lunch with you, the girl that was forgettable.

‘ Yer makeup’s running, just so you know, ’ He’d state plainly, pointing up at her. ‘ My mom’s always talkin’ bout gettin’ waterproof shit- ’ He’d turned to you, eyes wide. ‘ You know ‘bout that waterproof stuff? Mascara, er whatever? ’

‘ I-’ You’d shaken your head. ‘ I don’t wear makeup, I don’t know- ’

He’d grinned in your face, eyes beaming in that bright way again, the way that you’d thought was guaranteed. You hadn’t realized how safe you’d found that brightness before now. ‘ You don’t wear makeup?’ He’d leaned back with a smirk, drawing the final line for everyone to hear and making it clear that you were not to be fucked with again. ‘ Naturally pretty, then. That’s how I like my girls. ’ 

The rest of high school had been a surreal experience. 

You were impossible to pass over now, because everyone knew who you were. Girls were still cruel, but only in private, where Atsumu couldn’t see. Boys would still mention your weight, but only the ones who were rejecting your quiet confessions, and even then, they’d tried their best to deliver it politely.

Atsumu had never been more than a friend, of course, but he’d been a good one. The best one, really, considering that not even a few weeks into knowing you, his brother would regularly have to physically tear him away from you so they could make it to practice in time.

‘ I’m talkin’ here, Samu! We’re chattin’! ’ 

‘ Save it, fucker, we got shit to do! ’ 

You’d always found Osamu a bit easier to digest as a personality, and you’d hit it off right away – He’d been reading a magazine about baking when you’d met, and you’d mentioned wanting to try the cake on page 12, because you had the same one at home. He’d taken to you like a baby bird, asking you to try the random rolls and cakes and breads he would make at home. You’d been so shocked the first time he’d shoved a banana roll in your face that you hadn’t thought to consider calories or sugar or carbs or any of it. You’d just taken a bite and then spent the rest of the free hour taste-testing it again and again, using every ounce of your brain power to help him figure out what was perfect and what need improving.

But, if you were honest, you’d been more comfortable in the presence of his twin, in the tornado of genuine and terrifying care that was Atsumu. He’d always been honest and tactless, and – on the days when someone was unfortunate enough to have been caught saying something to you – he was cruel and mean and terrible, brutal without remorse. But he was your first ever best friend, exasperating personality and all.

And the only person worse than Miya Atsumu, really, was Suna Rintarou.

Your lunch breaks, originally alone and then suddenly with Atsumu, were even more suddenly shaken with the introduction of the VBC. To Aran and Kita and – crucially – to Suna, whose snarky demeanor and lack of a social filter was well-known by the time he’d flopped down into the seat in front of yours.

Suna, whose usual reaction to girls approaching him at lunch was to mumble ‘ Fuck off, please ’ lazily, through a mouthful of food and without ever looking up from his phone.

Suna, whose introduction to you had come with him pointing at your chopsticks, halfway to your mouth, and quietly asking ‘ Can I try that ?’ about your mother’s spring rolls. He’d leaned over the moment you’d stuttered a response – taking a huge bite right off of your chopsticks, even though you’d just met the boy 30 seconds prior – and then trading you some of his own mother’s cooking in return, half a rice ball set casually in your container.

Suna, who’d pried your phone from your slightly terrified fingers and entered his number, a steady stream of memes and YouTube videos buzzing in your pocket from that moment on.

Suna Rintarou, who wouldn’t only say something when he’d catch someone else being explicitly rude to you. He’d say something if someone even looked at you the wrong way or whispered to their friend in a way that he didn’t like.

‘ You got a problem? ’

‘ Something you wanna share with the class?’

When he’d come around the corner and find someone making pig noises in your direction or laughing at how your uniform fit-

‘ Were you not loved enough by your mother?’

‘Have you ever thought of seeking professional help?’

And when one boy had pushed at your shoulder – just a prod of his fingers, but rude all the same – you’d felt Suna’s presence more than heard it, a sudden chill hovering at your back.

‘ Apologize – on your knees – before I break that hand.’

The boy had hesitated, but he’d dropped to the floor soon after, because Suna had taken a step toward him. He’d muttered that he was sorry, and then repeated it louder when Suna had crouched beside him and whispered ‘ Again – like you mean it this time’ while smiling down at the hand he’d just threatened to break. 

You’d been properly scared of Suna Rintarou for some time after that.

He’d noticed, his eyes following you in every room you’d walked into, an amused smirk on his lips.

He’d skipped practice one day to walk you home, hands in pockets as he’d trailed after you. No words had been shared, but he’d walked you home the day after, and then again. Atsumu had yelled at him for missing practice on the fourth day, so he’d started showing up in the morning instead, leading you quietly to school.

It had been raining one morning, about a week later, and you’d been rushing around your room to get ready, wondering if Suna would even bother to wait in the rain for you. Wondering when you’d started expecting him to be there. 

You’d looked out the window, almost 45 minutes before you’d usually leave, and found him there. Under an umbrella, leaning on the gate and scrolling through his phone. You’d gasped, scrambling down the stairs with your mismatched pajamas and bedhead and yanking the door open.

‘ Suna Rintarou! ’ You’d scolded, and his head had popped up in surprise. It was the first time you’d properly addressed him during one of these morning walks.

‘ Get your ass in here! ’ 

He’d lifted his brows but listened right away, pocketing his phone and passing through the gate to your front door. Your mother had stuck her head out into the hallway, shocked at your tone.

‘ Who- ’ She’d started, but you’d just gestured in annoyance at the boy standing in your foyer trying to find a place to put his umbrella. You’d snatched it from him and leaned it on the door.

‘ This is Suna. Suna, my mom,’ You’d grumbled, realizing the state of yourself when Suna had just stared at the mess on your head and then pursed his lips to hide a smile.

‘ Oh, the stalker boy! ’ She’d clapped excitedly, and you’d barked out a laugh at Suna’s face of horror.

‘ I-No, I’m not-’ He’d stuttered, and you’d saved him by leading him to the living room.

‘ She’s just messing with you. You sit here and wait while I get ready ,’ You’d pointed at the couch and then disappeared upstairs, hurrying even more than before.

When you’d come back down, your mother had been urging him to the table to eat. He’d followed, clearly feeling out of place. 

You’d eaten with him while your mom had been preparing a second bento, loudly exclaiming from the kitchen that athletes should eat more than three times a day. He’d just smiled gratefully and then eyed you, mumbling ‘ I liked your pajamas’ under his breath and snickering when you’d tried to swing at him from across the table.

It had been monumentally humiliating when, as you were pulling on your shoes, your mother had pulled him aside and very conspicuously thanked him for looking out for you.

‘ You’re such a nice boy, taking care of my girl. Kids can be so mean .’

You’d stood with Suna’s umbrella in hand, glaring at him over your mom’s shoulder, because he’d looked way too pleased with himself. He’d followed you out, forced to run as you’d stalked off into the torrential downpour with his umbrella. He hadn’t said anything for a while, just holding the umbrella and walking beside you for most of the journey. But just as the school had come into view, he’d smirked down at you and said-

‘ You told your mom about me .’

You’d run the rest of the way to school, preferring to sit all day in wet clothes over finishing that conversation. 

You’d been forced after that to get used to Suna’s voice in your living room while you’d dressed for the day, and then the knock on your front door after practice, your mother sending him up to your room to lounge on your floor and copy off your homework. 

You hadn’t been able to get rid of him, and more than ten years had passed just the same, college finding him more often in your dorm room than his own and post-grad life finding the two of you and the Miya twins in Osaka. Atsumu had been recruited to the Black Jackals, and Suna had opened a tattoo shop, practicing on himself through college until his skin had been covered in ink and a deposit had been put down on a small shop space not too far from your apartment. 

You had formed a kind of soul-bond with Osamu over all things food-related, even with your own strained relationship with it, and you’d co-signed on an empty shop across the street from the Jackals’ home gym. You’d opened a cafe on one side, your culinary degree put to use on an extensive knowledge of coffees and teas, and Osamu had set up a bakery on the other side, the two of you decorating cakes and testing recipes for hours after closing time. Your shared shop had seen wild success, both due to your talents and due to being located in a tourist and sports enthusiast hotspot.

You’d each had your various failed relationships throughout the years, Atsumu currently in the midst of a secret situationship with Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Osamu crushing rather pathetically on Hinata Shouyou’s friend Yachi Hitoka, who runs a flower shop down the road. You’d become friends with her, at first to subtly put in a good word for Samu, but now mostly because she’s likely to appear at your counter at least twice a day to hang out and try the special of the day.

Suna had had a few short flings with girls in the area, one a model-beautiful blonde who’d, offhand in the middle of your cafe, offered to be your ‘gym buddy’, should you want one. She’d been dumped on the spot, Suna going so far as to pluck the iced latte from her hand and pour it out inside her purse while holding eye contact with her. 

The girls after her had been equally beautiful, but he’d always find something about them that was unacceptable after a few weeks. This one too loud and bossy, that one too quiet and submissive, the other one too everything , as he’d put it. He’d never been happy with any of them, and you could only watch with bemusement and shake your head, brushing it off as being one of the many things about Suna that you wouldn’t try to understand.

All of your boyfriends – a total of three in the five years you’d all been in Osaka – had similarly found something wrong with you. It had always been the same thing, and you’d known it. You’d known it in the way their eyes would linger on other girls or the way they’d be less affectionate in public, less willing to hold your hand or put their arm around you.

You’d known it in the way Suna had hated every one of them, hands left unshaken during introductions and green eyes watching how you’d interact with them.

You’d always broken things off first, finding it a bit funny that they would get mad at you for it, as though they hadn’t just been swiping on dating apps when they thought you weren’t looking. Always mad at you for putting yourself first, because they thought themselves above you and couldn’t believe you thought you’d find better than them.

That’s why you’re sitting here now, on this Friday night with a bottle of wine in your system, wondering how Suna Rintarou is not understanding why your appearance is the barrier between you and breaking your dry spell. After everything , he’s not understanding.

“Dude, you clearly know what my body has to do with it,” You laugh. “You met my exes.”

“Well, yeah-” He waves you off. “But they were morons, so I don’t count them.”

“I feel like you probably should, since they have the majority opinion on girls like me,” You smile, taking another sip of wine.

Suna laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’ve been fucking with the right dudes, if you think those losers were representative.”

“Do you see guys lining up outside my door?” You offer with a bemused smile. He flops against the couch, sighing.

“I cannot believe it’s been a whole year. There’s no way- Not a single one-night stand?” He tries, almost desperate to figure this out. You just shake your head. “ Why ? Where the hell are you lookin’ for ‘em?”

You laugh wholly, reaching to put your glass down and turn back to the movie. “It’s fine, dude. I was just making a passing comment-”

“Nuh-uh-” He crosses his arms over his chest, nearly pouting. “We gotta get you laid. I’ve become invested in this.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring him. He nudges you with his foot. 

“Let’s find you someone at Miya’s party.”

You groan, laughing a bit. The Black Jackals had recently had a home game, one where they’d positively obliterated the opposite team and subsequently sent hundreds of cheering fans into your shop after the match. Atsumu had invited a hoard of people to his penthouse to celebrate tomorrow night. You’d already planned to try finding someone, but it’s a bit worrying that Suna’s involved now.

“Okay, you don’t have to get so invested. I’ll try tomorrow, I promise.”

“Nope, I’m invested. This is happening. You’re getting laid tomorrow – it’s been decreed.” 

You salute him lazily, mumbling ‘ If you say so’ and going back to the movie.

–

When Suna picks you up the next night, he’s frowning down at you.

“What is this, what are you wearing?”

You’re taken aback, looking down at yourself. You’d chosen a cute red dress and thrown a cardigan over it – you look fine.

“What about it?”

“No, no, no-” He marches into your apartment, hands on your shoulders as he leads you to your room. “What is this nice girl shit? Take this off-” He pushes your cardigan off your shoulders, wrestling you out of it. 

You cross your arms right away, a bit self-conscious. It’s a dress with thin straps, and you’re not happy with how your arms look in it. “I wanna wear something over it, though.”

“Oh, that’s fine, sure,” He starts, poking his head into your closet and knocking clothes around. “Except that this is a party, not a church retreat. You’re not wearing the sweater or the dress.”

“But this is my best-” You start, but Suna’s seeing something all the way in the back and reaching for it, eyes bright.

“A- ha! ” 

You groan, because he’s pulling out the single sleeveless dress you own. It’s a body-hugging, little black number, one that you’d bought online when you’d been feeling particularly confident. It still has the tag on it.

“I dunno, Suna-”

“Just put it on and lemme see,” He thrusts it at you, and then he’s gone, leaving you with an outfit you would never have chosen.

You put it on, staring into your mirror with a grimace. The dress is too tight – your hips are too wide, your thighs too on display. Your boobs are too big, making the material stick to your chest in a way you don’t like.

“I don’t know,” You call. “I don’t like it.” You start to reach for the zipper to remove it, since you have no intention of showing Suna. But he’s bursting into the room, a loud ‘ I’m coming in-’ warning you with enough time to not unzip the dress.

He stops short, a pair of black heels swinging from his fingers – apparently, he’d been digging through your collection of shoes at the door for good ones. They dangle at his side, his eyes trained on your body. You watch in the mirror as he drags his eyes down the length of you and then back up, his lips parted in a way you don’t understand.

When he meets your eyes, he snapping his mouth shut and swallowing, ears turning a bit red. You frown, taking it to mean that he’s seeing too much. 

“Okay,” You sigh, turning to usher him back out. He blinks rapidly and backs up. “Go. I’ll find something else.”

“What?” He stops, not letting you push him anymore. “No, you’re wearing that.”

“Suna-” You laugh, planting your hands on his chest and trying to get him out. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t.” He shakes his head, steady against you. “You’re wearing that. You look really good.”

You blink, confused. “What? Did you see what I saw?”

“I saw the exact same thing you saw. You’re wearing that.”

“Dude, no-”

“Yes-” He cuts you short, rounding you and pushing you out toward the living room. You shake your head, trying and failing to go back. “Stop arguing with me.” He puts the heels in your hand and disappears to the table for your purse. You stand in front of the mirror by the door, turning this way and that to look at yourself. You don’t see what he’s talking about.

He comes to stand behind you, and you examine him, too. He’s got on black jeans and a silver belt, with a black tee tucked into his pants and a thin chain hanging loosely around his neck. There’s a long-sleeve shirt thrown over it, and his lip ring and heavily pierced ears glint in the light. His hair hangs low over his eyes, and he lifts a hand to push it back. He’s wearing a silver bracelet you’d gotten him a few years ago for Christmas, your matching one sitting in your jewelry box.

He looks really fucking good.

You sigh angrily. “I cannot be seen with you.”

He just lifts a brow. “Problem?”

You examine him again, pointing at his reflection. “Take your top shirt off. Lessen the whole… punk-rock, skater-boy vibe, please.”

He grins, handing your purse over and then stripping, the long-sleeve tossed carelessly toward your couch.

You roll your eyes. His black tee is tight on his biceps, and all his tattoos are on display. 

“That’s great. That’s really great.”

“What?” He laughs, and you just shake your head, bending down to put your heels on.

“You look like an entire meal, feeding women everywhere, and I look like a sausage roll.”

He doesn’t answer, and you glance at the mirror, finding his eyes trained very obviously on how you’re bent in front of him, both eyebrows lifted just slightly.

“Are you staring at my ass?”

“Huh?” He jumps, blinking. “What’d you say? Sausage roll?”

You stand, leveling him with an empty glare. “Don’t force yourself, Sweetheart. I committed to the outfit already.” 

He shakes his head, looking a bit dazed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you most certainly don’t look like a sausage roll.” He follows after you as you turn off the lights and leave the apartment, waiting behind you while you lock the door. “ Like a present that desperately needs unwrapping, maybe ,” He mumbles under his breath.

You pause, key in the door, and look over your shoulder at him with a brow raised in amusement. “What are you doing, Suna?”

He blinks lazily at you. “Honestly? Regretting that dress.”

You roll your eyes and pull the key from the lock, following him down the hall to the elevator while he shakes his head with a small sigh.

“Whatever. What time should we come back?”

He laughs, hitting the button on elevator panel that’ll lead to his car. “I thought we agreed. Not until you’ve been fucked stupid.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at his wording. “I think that was just you decreeing things. I’m a bit more realistic.” You smile mockingly up at him, and he nudges you as you walk through the parking garage. 

“You’ll find someone.”

You start to argue, but you see where he’s parked, and you’re not happy.

“You didn’t bring your car.” 

He leads you toward his motorcycle, tossing you a curious look over his shoulder. “Nope. Bike’s easier to park on the street.”

You gesture down at yourself angrily, snatching up the helmet he’s handing you. “I cannot sit on a motorcycle with my legs spread in this dress.”

He smiles, glancing down at your thighs. “Why? Not wearing anything under?”

You smack him with the helmet. He just throws a leg over the bike and holds a hand out for you. You do your best not to flash him as you hike a leg over the seat behind him. 

Suna waits for you to adjust and re-adjust the dress until you’re sure you won’t be giving anyone a show on the way there. But when you put on the helmet and pat his shoulders to signal that you’re ready, he reaches back and wraps both hands around your thighs, dragging you closer to his back. You scream, slapping his hands, but he just pulls your arms around his waist.

“Gotta make sure you’re safe and sound,” He says, muffled through his helmet, but you can still hear the laugh in his voice.

“I hate you,” You state loudly. He just kicks the bike into life with a snicker.

The ride to Atsumu’s penthouse is a nightmare of checking your dress at red lights and praying no one’s seeing anything. By the time you get there, you’re stressed.

“What’d I tell you?” Suna asks, sliding into a narrow parking spot right outside Atsumu’s building. “Easier parking.”

“I hate you,” You repeat, letting him help you awkwardly off the bike and immediately fixing everything. He pulls the helmet gently off of you and brushes your hair out of your face. And then he smiles lazily.

“You’re so getting laid tonight. I can feel it.”

You don’t bother responding, just following him into the lobby. The front desk girl waves you through, recognizing you. Her eyes trail down your body, eyebrows raised, and you’re immediately self-conscious. But she leans over the desk, calling out as you’re reaching the elevator.

“You look really pretty!”

You blink, looking back and then up at Suna. “She talking to me or you?”

“You,” He laughs. “Definitely you.”

“Oh-” The elevator dings, signaling Atsumu’s arrival to get you up to the penthouse with his key, but you’re calling back to the girl with an awkward laugh as the doors open. “Thank you!”

“Hey- Holy shit- ”

You turn, finding Atsumu inside the elevator, staring at you with comically wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He stares so long that the elevator doors close between you, and he’s rushing to open it again. You give him a weird look. 

“What?”

He shoots you a look of disbelief. “What d’ya mean, ‘ what ’? Look at you!”

You follow Suna into the elevator, mumbling, “I regret buying this dress.”

Suna shakes his head, leaning back against the wall and addressing Atsumu. “She won’t listen to me about the dress.”

Atsumu’s still staring. “What’re you tryna do, get laid?”

Suna looks at you with lifted brows and a pleased grin. “See? He gets it.”

“Damn, if Omi ‘n I weren’t-” Atsumu shakes his head, whistling. “You’d have trouble gettin’ rid of me.”

You flush, crossing your arms over your middle. “Tsumu… I really don’t look bad?”

“No way ,” He laughs, still staring. “I might go break up with ‘im, honestly.”

You laugh, face warm as you stare down at your feet. Suna scoffs beside you. 

“Oh, sure, believe him but not me.” He smiles when you nudge him, and then he claps once. “Okay, here’s the plan. We cannot be seen together.”

You furrow a brow. You’d only been joking earlier. “Why?”

“Because-” He gestures down at your outfit. “- you came to get laid, and sticking to me all night will obviously mess that up.”

“But-” You don’t like not being able to stick to Suna – and, by that logic, Atsumu or Osamu – when you feel this vulnerable.

Suna shakes his head. “Nope. You gotta put yourself out there. Find someone you like and seduce him until you’re getting dragged into one of Miya’s spare rooms.” He points at you, eyes sharp. “Don’t leave with him, though. I don’t need you getting murdered.”

Atsumu nods along, finally peeling his eyes off of you to stare at the panel. You’re almost at the top. “Got lots of ‘em, spare rooms. Use one.”

You swallow nervously, watching the last two floors tick away. Suna pats you on the shoulder.

“You got this. Don’t come find me until you’re done.”

The doors open, leading straight into Atsumu’s living room.

You’re forced to wave goodbye to your safety net – he sends you off with a wink and a mouthed ‘ You look good ’. You square your shoulders and shake out your nerves, heading to the kitchen.

After finding a drink, you wander into the living room. Suna’s on one of the couches, talking to Bokuto. Atsumu’s sitting a friendly distance from Sakusa, looking like he very much wants to be in the man’s lap instead.

You see Osamu near the window, talking to someone you don’t know but looking across the room. You follow it, finding Yachi and Hinata, and make a beeline straight for her. 

“Hi!” You say, and they both turn to look at you. Hinata flushes upon seeing your dress, and Yachi squeals as you sit beside her.

“You look so good, Y/n!” The younger woman hugs you tight, and you flush.

“Thanks… I’m really out of my element here,” You laugh, greeting Hinata. “Hi, Shouyou.”

“H-Hey-” He coughs. “You look really nice.”

You warm again, wondering if maybe you really don’t look half bad. “Thanks! You look good, too.” You point at his arms, seeing that he’s built some more muscle since you’d last seen him. “You really bulked up.”

He’s as red as his hair, eyes flicking to your thighs and then away. Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you peek at it.

[10:22 PM]

Sunarin : believe me yet?

You find him, seeing that he’s flicking his brows and glancing toward Hinata. You roll your eyes with a smile and start to put your phone away, but it buzzes again.

Sunarin: you got the poor guy stressed out

Sunarin: look at him

You glance at Hinata out of the corner of your eye. Yachi’s talking to him about something, and he’s nodding and giving the appropriate number of ‘ Uh-huh ’s, but his eyes are drifting toward you repeatedly, gaze on your thighs and chest and hips before he’s remembering to keep his eyes on Yachi. He shifts, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly.

Your stomach flips when you realize that Hinata really is checking you out.

Would you sleep with Hinata? You really like him as a person, and you trust him enough. But you’re not sure that sleeping with any of your friends’ friends is a good idea, in case things get weird. But – on the other hand – you do trust the people that you’ve gotten to know over the years, the Black Jackals all great guys. You don’t know if you’re ready to try to snag some guy you don’t know at all – that’s more likely to end badly. 

You sigh, taking a sip of your drink. You just got here. You should wait it out, test all the waters and see what calls to you. Hinata’s very cute, but you shouldn’t jump his bones just because he’s giving you attention.

He’s a friend , you remind yourself. And the party’s just starting.

You talk to Yachi and Hinata for a long while, and – when Osamu finally builds the courage to cross the room and engage Yachi in conversation – you’re left with Hinata. You fall into easy conversation with him for almost an hour, laughing and smiling and leaning against him when your head starts to get a little fuzzy. He cracks jokes and tells stories excitedly and asks about your shop and life, and you feel incredibly fond of him.

So fond, in fact, that you’ve unconsciously decided that Hinata’s not the right guy for this. You really do like him, and you really do like the energy you have together, but that makes a one-night stand with him incredibly unappealing. You’re not desperate enough to risk the friendship you seem to be solidifying with him right now.

So when you glance up and find that Kageyama Tobio has arrived and is glancing awkwardly at Hinata while he talks to Atsumu, you smile at the ginger next to you.

“You shouldn’t let me keep you, Shou,” You say, and he smiles at the nickname. “I’m sure there’s someone here who you’d have a better time with.”

He furrows a brow, so you tilt your head in Kageyama’s direction. When he sees his old friend standing there, he swallows and flushes.

“Mm-” He laughs, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” You nudge him. “Go.”

He eyes you, seeing that you seem set on not letting things between you go anywhere. And then he nods, snaking an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, fine. But I better hear about whose heart you break tonight.”

You laugh, squeezing his arm as he goes. And then you sigh, a bit resigned. It was the best choice, you know it.

Your phone buzzes.

[12:11 AM]

Sunarin: WHERE IS HE GOING

Sunarin: GO GET THAT SMALL MAN

You snort into your cup, eyeing him. He’s still on that couch, but he’s not speaking to anyone, just staring at his phone and glaring at you when he sees you looking.

Sunarin: he was ready to risk it all for you bro

You shake your head.

You: hes my friend, i couldnt do it

Sunarin: you wont fuck a friend?? thats like 85% of the ppl here!!

You: NOT THAT ONE

Sunarin: christ,,,, okay get back out there, soldier

Sunarin: I expect to walk past one of these rooms in the next hour and hear you having the time of your life

You: youre so heinous

You stand, heading toward the kitchen for another drink. You feel Suna watching you, but when you glance at him, he’s scrolling on his phone and ignoring everyone who approaches him. You text him when you get to the kitchen, head down.

You: should we just go? 

You: i dont wanna keep you waiting

Sunarin: i mean this in the nicest way possible

Sunarin: stop being stupid

Sunarin: bc i will block you

You: hello??

Sunarin: idgaf how long i sit here

Sunarin: find a man and fuck him

Sunarin: that is your assignment

You: sir yes sir

You look up, intending to scan the room for your liquor of choice. Instead, standing in the corner by the other doorway, in a group of four guys, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. You have no clue who he is, but he’s got dark hair and a cool smile and piercings, and you are utterly stopped in your tracks.

He catches it, glancing over at you and nodding in greeting. You smile tightly and move to the counter, pouring out the first thing you can find. You text Suna discreetly, something incredibly elegant.

You: AHAAWEFJAWOIFEJKAE FUCK

The counter where you stand is actually a bar with beams on the side, so the living room is entirely visible from here. You see Suna perk up, his head lifting as he peers over someone’s head to meet your eyes. He glances over your shoulder at the group, but you go back to pouring your drink while you calm your nerves, so you don’t see his reaction.

There’s fervent whispering behind you, and then footsteps. You spot three of the guys passing into the living room, so you glance back. 

The beautiful man is still leaning against the opposite counter, but he’s got his phone out, invested in something he’s looking at. You see the three guys looking generally in your direction, and you wonder if maybe they’ve left their friend here on purpose. You glance at him again and then steel your nerves, turning carefully.

“Whatcha drinking?” 

The guy’s eyes flick to yours, his brow lifting. He lowers his phone but doesn’t put it away, and he smiles at you. “Rum and coke. You?”

“Uhm-” You laugh. “I have no idea. I think there’s tequila in it.”

He grins easy. “Oof. Tequila always gets me. Kinda scared of it.”

You smile into your cup as you take a sip. 

Across the room, Suna watches you talk to a guy he doesn’t recognize. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, the kind of bad feeling he’d always get around your exes. He watches the group of guys that have just come out, seeing that they’re eyeing you and whispering. 

Then one laughs, and he knows this isn’t good.

He stands, moving toward Atsumu without taking his eyes off of you. You’ve stepped a little closer to the guy, and Suna feels his heart hurt a bit. You’re putting yourself out there, and the guy you’re doing it with is bad news.

“Miya,” He says, cutting Atsumu off where he is struggling to keep a good distance between himself and Sakusa. The blond looks up, clearly drunk.

“Hah?” 

“Who are those guys?” He points with his cup, and Atsumu stands, squinting.

“Oh, I dunno. I think they’re friends of Bo’s.” Atsumu points toward Bokuto, who’s telling a story excitedly to a large group of people. “You know how he is. Always meetin’ people and makin’ friends. I let them up like 20 minutes ago, maybe?”

Suna swallows, watching how the guy you talk to lifts a brow at you. You must have tried to say something flirty, but he’s not taking it well. He’s starting to look like he’s looking down on you. 

Atsumu hums, seeing it, too. “Want me to go over there?” His voice is clearer than it had been a minute ago.

“No, I got it.” Suna’s gone before he finishes the sentence, moving quickly.

Atsumu watches him go and then finds his brother in the crowd, sitting with Yachi. Samu’s looking over his shoulder, trailing after Suna, and then he turns. The brothers lock eyes, sharing a knowing smirk. Samu just shrugs, and Atsumu shrugs back.

Whatever Suna’s about to do, there’s no stopping it.

In the kitchen, you realize that this guy’s resolutely uninterested in you when a girl comes into the room and his attention is entirely gone. 

You look, seeing that this unassuming girl is exactly what you’d expected. You glance at the guy again, finding a hungry gaze that trails over her body. Your stomach drops a bit, and you look over your shoulder toward his friends. 

They’re standing at the bar, peeking at you and snickering to each other.

Oh. 

Right.

You stare down into your cup, wondering when you’d let your guard down. 

It hurts a little more than expected.

You smile up at the guy one last time, raising your cup to him.

“It was good to meet you.”

“Uh-huh,” He mutters, not listening. You blink and turn away, heading to leave. You can’t help but look at the girl as you go, seeing how beautiful she is. She looks up, smiling kindly at you, and you smile back. She seems sweet.

You go to pass her, leaving the way you came in.

“Y/n.” 

You jump, turning back. Suna’s standing at the other door, by the guy you’d been talking to, his face relaxed but his eyes sharp. Only now do you realize they kind of look alike.

What is he doing?

“Oh-” 

“There you are,” He smiles easily, stepping into the room. 

Huh?

“Uh-”

“I’ve been looking for you all night.”

The guy looks between you and Suna. You look between him and Suna. The girl leaves with her drink, entirely unaware.

“Oh… Really?” You look out toward the living room, finding the other guys also watching Suna with confusion.

“Yeah. I was hoping you’d come,” He replies easily, stepping toward you. 

His eyes flick down toward a spot on the floor that’s closer to him, and you drift there, eyeing him. He moves around you and reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring himself a drink. He offers it to you, too. 

You watch him glance over your shoulder at the group of guys, and you realize he’d turned you around and put himself in view of them. So they could see him.

Why?

“Sure,” You say, curious to see where this goes, and tilt your cup toward him. “Thanks, Suna.”

“Rin,” He responds, tilting his head to smile down at you, flirty and cheeky in a way you’d never seen from him. “You can call me Rin.” 

You almost snort. “Okay. Rin.”

“I missed you last weekend,” Suna says, making a point to drag his eyes down the length of your body before he takes a sip of his drink.

You lift a brow, smirking up at him. He’s the only one who can see the teasing look you give him before you respond, playing into his game.

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the five missed calls. I was sleeping, by the way. It was one in the morning.”

He smiles at your line, and you can tell it’s genuine. He shrugs, holding eye contact and leaning in a little. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

“What you like…” You smile down into your cup, nodding. “And what would that be, Rin ?”

“Well-” He swallows, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he eyes you. “This dress, for one.” And then he slides his free hand over your waist, playing with the material. “It looks really good on you.”

His eyes have darkened by the time you meet them again, and it makes you a little nervous to realize that you’re unsure if it’s real or not. Your mind flashes to how he’d watched you bend over in front of your mirror earlier. Your fingers start to tingle.

Someone comes in behind you, and you use it as an excuse to look away from Suna and glance over your shoulder. The guy you’d been talking to is still there, but he’s got his eyes on your dress, interest lingering around your thighs.

You quirk a brow and turn back to Suna, feeling annoyed that this guy had only found you worth looking at once another guy had. Suna eyes you briefly, and you read the expression.

Want me to leave you with him?

He doesn’t look happy about the idea – you’re not happy about the idea – but you can tell he’s hesitating to continue, because the guy is paying you attention now.

He must not realize that you’d lost interest in that guy the moment his gaze had drifted. It’s Suna’s attention you’re nervous about now.

Still, you know that he’d only come to show that group of guys that you’re worth considering, so you tamper the feeling and lean into his game again.

You step close to him, watching how his eyes light up a bit, and slide a hand over his bicep. You make a point to trace the outline of one of his tattoos there, watching with a smile as goosebumps form wherever you scratch your nail gently against his skin.

“Is there something you wanted, Rin?” You look up at him through your eyelashes when you ask, wide and innocent.

You see the exact moment that something changes.

Suna’s eyes widen marginally and drop to your lips, green eyes heavy on you as he pulls his lip ring between his teeth and plays with it. His hand tightens on your waist, fingers pressing into your lower back and pulling you toward him.

“Just…” His gaze flicks between your mouth and your eyes. “Wanted to see if we could make up for lost time. Maybe somewhere more private?”

Suna Rintarou means to pull you into one of Atsumu’s spare rooms. 

You blink, a sudden flush rising on your cheeks as your stomach flips. You squeeze his bicep, anchoring yourself to him. He just stares at your mouth.

You nod after a moment, poking your tongue out to wet your lips. He watches it. “Okay… That sounds good.” 

His eyes snap to yours, suddenly filled with something that hadn’t been there before. When he sets his cup on the counter and steps around you, hand finding yours and pulling you after him, you realize it’s urgency. You barely manage to put your drink down without spilling it. 

All four guys watch you get dragged out of the room and toward an open door not even 15 feet away. 

You have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen. 

You step into the room, closing the door with your free hand. “What are we-”

Suna spins, planting both hands on your hips and pinning you hard against the door. You gasp, eyes wide, and he lifts one hand and sets it on the door next to your head. 

“I want to kiss you,” He says bluntly, breathing out hard. “Do you want to kiss me?”

You blink, lips parted, searching his face. You only find heat in his eyes, and it makes a spot under your navel tingle. 

Do you want to kiss him?

“Yes,” You whisper, nodding shallowly. “Yeah-Yes.”

He breathes slowly, eyes dropping to your mouth. 

There’s a moment of nothing, one where all you can hear is the muffled music and laughter through the door, the space between you and Suna Rintarou completely silent.

And then he’s surging forward.

You cannot, for the life of you, understand why you hadn’t thought of doing this before.

He pushes his lips against yours with force, full and impatient. You throw your arms around his neck, angling your head. The hand he has on the door comes to cup the back of your head, holding you tight against him, and you card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching your nails against his scalp.

Suna pulls back with a sharp inhale, his mouth hovering over yours. You blink hazily, your head fuzzy and warm.

“ Oh… ” You mumble. 

“ More? ” He breathes, sounding just as shaken. The hand on your lower back pulls you flush against him, and you feel something pressing against your thigh. Your skin hums with anticipation, and you nod, your eyes still half-closed.

“More’s good…” 

Your back hits the door and your hair’s being tangled around his fingers, head pulled to the side as his mouth finds your throat. The ring on his lip is cold between your flushed skin and the burn of his mouth, and his tongue passing over your pulse as he nips at the spot has a weak whimper falling past your lips.

“ Louder ,” He murmurs, the vibration echoing through your throat and down to your toes. He sucks harder on the spot just under your jaw, and you moan properly and in his ear. “Good, just like that,” He bites down and then swipes his tongue over it, soothing and warm. “Want them to hear you.”

Your heart pounds, and you cling to his shoulders, letting out a noise of confusion. 

“Who?”

“You know exactly who.”

You remember that you’d just been talking to some other guy, that his friends had been making fun of you. 

You’d already forgotten.

“Why do you-” You gasp, shuddering when he pulls your hips toward him, pressing his own against you. He’s hard– He’s already hard, and you haven’t done anything. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Why do you want them to…”

Suna suckles at a spot under your ear before lifting his head and planting his lips on yours. His hand leaves the safety of your waist and slips up past your ribs. You push your chest out, silently urging him to keep going.

“I want them to-” He swears under his breath as his hand closes around your breast, fingers kneading gently. He kisses you hard. “-know what they’re missing. How badly they fucked up.” 

You’re out of breath when he pulls away, and you circle your arms tightly around his neck so you can lift onto your tiptoes and kiss him again. He touches you urgently, thumb brushing over your nipple once and then again when you mewl into his mouth. He drops his lips to your throat again, freeing you to make as much noise as you need.

You sigh loudly, because his other hand is falling to your waist and tugging at your dress. The material slides up your body, exposing your thighs and then even more to him. He leaves it around your hips, fingertips dancing down to your panties. 

“Can I-” He hooks two fingers into the band, mouth hot on your skin as he heaves out an unsteady breath. You nod furiously, not a single thought of how you look or feel passing through your head. Not a single thought that he might not want this, because you can feel so plainly against your bare thigh that he does. 

Later, you won’t be able to name a single other time you hadn’t been self-conscious in the exact same situation with different men.

He tugs your panties unceremoniously down to your thighs, fingers trembling just slightly when he presses them against your inner thigh. You whimper as he pushes your thighs apart, cold air rushing against your core and sending a jolt of realization through you. 

You haven’t been touched by someone else in over a year.

“Wait, Suna-” Your protest is muffled against his lips. “I’m not gonna-I won’t last long-”

“Good,” He breathes, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “Fucking good . I don’t want you to last-” He pushes his mouth to a million different places in quick succession, almost like he’s losing his mind just as fast as you are. His fingers hover between your thighs, cold against your heated skin. “Just want you to come, just to take the edge off.” He kisses you forcefully and murmurs against your lips. “ Just want you to come for me .”

He pulls away just in time for a moan to fall past your lips, ringing through the room. It’s embarrassing how loud it is, how desperately you’d reacted to his words alone. But Suna just smiles breathlessly down at you, face open and honest and eyes gleaming with a wicked anticipation that makes you tremble a bit.

He’s still holding eye contact when he presses against your core, his two middle fingers sliding through your folds.

You gasp so loud that it spills into a moan, and your head falls back against the door with a hard thump , his name ripped from your throat in something close to a scream.

“ Suna- ”

“ Fuck, ” He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder and sliding his fingers against you again. “Fuck, you feel so good-”

“S-Suna-” You cry again, fisting the sleeves of his t-shirt with white knuckles. “Oh, my God-”

He latches onto the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there as he swipes the pads of his fingers against your clit. “Don’t call me Su- fuck -” He cuts short, because your hips are moving on their own, rocking against his fingers. The tip of his middle finger catches on your entrance, and you gasp loudly, pushing your chest against his as you stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes. 

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why this feels so good, why you can’t get this feeling on your own. Why the thought that the man doing this to you is Suna Rintarou makes your nerves tumble and twist and tug at the coil that’s warping under your navel, under his touch. You hadn’t thought to want him before, not really, because he’s Suna . Your Sunarin, your piece of home.

And he’s making you feel something no one before him ever had.

You don’t think you can come back from this.

All rational thought flies from your mind when Suna brushes his middle finger against your entrance again, with purpose this time. You gasp, clinging tight.

“ Su- ” He shoves his mouth against yours, murmuring his own name, murmuring ‘ Rin, call me Rin’ against you, suckling on your bottom lip. He pulls away to watch you again, to find your eyes like he had last time.

And then he pushes his finger into you, slowly and then all at once.

“ Oh, ” You gasp, your eyelids fluttering. “Rin- ” 

He pulls out, crooking his finger, and then slides back in, nodding as his palm slaps against your clit. “ ‘s good, baby ,” He mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “ Again, just like that .” 

You think the scream of his name when he slams his fingers into you repeatedly is loud enough to be heard over the whole party. He laughs against your throat, humming, and pushes a second finger in, drawing another moan out of you as his fingers reach places that yours never can. “That’s it, let them hear you.” 

The coil in your navel twists viciously when something cold and metal slides against your thighs with each thrust of his fingers into you, because you’re realizing that it’s the bracelet – the bracelet that you’d given him those handful of years ago, the friendship bracelet that you have in your jewelry box at home.

You don’t think your past self would ever believe this is where that bracelet is now.

Suna pants against your skin, still rock hard against your thigh. “Let them hear how good I make you feel ,” He breathes, and your heart skips, that coil yanking.

“Oh, I’m gonna-” You gasp, fumbling to tug at his shirt, to tell him. He lifts his head to look at you.

And then he promptly yanks his fingers out of you.

You jerk at the feeling, and your heart sinks as your orgasm starts to fade. All you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes, the disappointment written all over your face, because you don’t know what you did to deserve that.

It turns quickly to confusion when Suna spins you around, and suddenly your face is pressed against the door, hips pulled out toward him. You gasp, planting your hands on the door to steady yourself, your face rushed with heat at being bent over in front of him.

That moment in front of your mirror had not prepared you for this.

“What-”

“Please-can I-” He asks, the clink of his belt and then the zipper of his jeans loud as he yanks on it, and you nod against the door.

“Yes, yes please,” You beg, pushing your hips back more.

“ Shit ,” He swears under his breath. “I wanna do this better-” You jump when something hot brushes between your thighs, something hot and incredibly hard. “-Later, when we get home, I wanna-” He pushes the head of his cock gently through your folds, and his groan mixes with the choked moan you let out against the door. 

“Just wanna get you off once before we go, just wanna make you come once around me,” He finally gets out, hissed through his teeth as he guides himself to your entrance. “‘s that okay? Can I?”

You whimper loudly, nodding again and throwing his own words back at him, desperate and begging. 

“ T-Take the edge-jus’ to take the edge off- ” You stutter through it, your heart doing leaps and your nerves on fire. You push your hips back against him, whining when he brushes against you again.

Suna groans, and he pushes his hand against the door by your face as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, that bracelet staring you dead in the eye.

“Fuck ,” He whispers, shaking his head. “Fuck , Y/n. You-” 

He slips the head of his cock past your entrance, sliding into you slowly. 

You stop being able to feel your legs.

Suna moans your name, low and in your ear, and your eyes roll back into your head at the sound.

Why had you gone so long without hearing him say your name like that?

“ Rin ,” You whimper, and he presses a kiss to a spot behind your ear.

“You’re driving me insane,” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you believe me earlier? Why couldn’t you believe me? Can’t you see now how badly I want you?” He starts to pant in your ear, because he’s drawing his hips back with a hiss and then pushing back in slowly. “Fuck, you’re too-” 

You suck in a breath when his fingers find your clit, his hips stilling. You moan, feeling yourself clench around him. Feeling, for the first time in a year, truly full in the way that you’d craved. 

You clench around him again, and he groans into your neck.

“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop doing that,” He pleads, breathing hard against your ear.

“ Why won’t you move ?” You whine, unable to help it.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your skin. “You want the romantic answer or the realistic one?”

You can’t help but giggle, because he’s making a stupid, Suna-flavored joke in a moment like this. “The romantic one.”

You feel him smile wide, even as the pads of his fingers slide against your clit, the little bundle of nerves that makes you twitch. 

“I just wanna get you off, I don’t care about myself right now.,” He tries, laughing a little. “It doesn’t matter – all that matters is you, and I can get you off just like this.” He circles your clit again, and your laugh is breathy and sensitive.

“And the realistic one?” You smile when he bites down on your shoulder briefly.

“You’re so tight that it actually hurt when I tried to move,” He explains, and you clench unintentionally. “Come on , Y/n, don’t do this-” He swipes his fingers against you faster now, trying to get you close.

It doesn’t take long, not with Suna’s fingers on the most sensitive part of your body. Not with him buried inside you, throbbing and twitching with every whine and moan that falls past your lips. Not with his mouth pressed to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine and his quiet groans making your toes curl.

“ Come on, baby, ” He whispers, pushing his fingertips against you. “ Let me take the edge off, just like you said. Let me do this for you. ” 

Your moan comes out as more of a sob, and your eyes feel a bit wet. The coil in your navel tightens and pulls with every word.

“ Come around me, Y/n. I wanna feel it– I wanna feel you- ”

You gasp, your nails scratching against the door as your fingers curl into fists, and your voice is clear and sharp for the first time in a while. “Su-Suna, I’m-”

-close, I’m close-

“Fuck, I think I am, too-” He admits, even though he hasn’t moved an inch. He shudders against you, breath shaky. “You first, so I can pull out-”

“ Mm-mm- ” You protest. “ ‘s safe, ‘s fine, I’m- ”

You don’t have the time or energy to explain that you’ve been on birth control for years, but it doesn’t matter, because he groans. He understands. 

“Are you sure-” He chokes, and you hear a low whine in his throat. The sound pushes you to the edge, and you teeter there, sobbing.

“ Please, please, I’m-Suna- ” 

You gasp sharply, because he’s lifting his chest off your back and straightening you up, pulling your back against him. He clamps his hand down tight over your mouth, turning your head so you’re forced to look up into his eyes.

“ This one’s mine ,” He breathes, his fingers swiping viciously against you as he holds that cursed eye contact. “ No one hears this but me .”

The coil snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head.

Your vision goes white, and your ears ring, the sound deafening as your body jerks, your fingers scratching and digging into his arms for stability. You feel the scream in your throat, but you don’t hear it, can’t hear anything except the low, muffled groan Suna presses into the side of your head. He twitches inside you, and then you’re warm as he comes, filling you in a way that steals the last gasp of breath from your lungs.

He holds you tight until you both come down, arms wrapped around you. The hand on your mouth falls, curling around the side of your head and cradling you against him. The shuddering breaths you let out mix with his, and he sets his mouth on yours, unable to put the effort into kissing you properly. 

After a moment, your arms fall limp, dropping away from him, and your head slumps against his shoulder. He slides carefully out of you, holding you steady when you whimper and sway a bit. Then he reaches down, tugging your panties back up your legs and fixing your dress. 

You turn in place, forehead pressed to his chest, and straighten him out with your eyes half-closed. He shivers when you wrap your fingers around him and tuck him back into his pants, and his hand cradles your neck, a kiss pressed to the top of your head while you button and zip his jeans.

When you lift your head to look at him, there’s no need to ask him to kiss you. He drops his head without a word, lips just as soft on yours as they’d been the first time. 

“How you feel?” He asks, quiet against your mouth.

“Boneless, ” You say right away, and he smiles against you before pulling away.

“ Boneless, or tired ?” He prompts.

You shake your head. You don’t feel tired at all, your nerves still humming under your skin. “Just boneless.”

“Then,” He starts. “Can you find your bones on the way down to my bike?”

There’s a jolt in your body when you realize what he’s saying. That he’s taking you home.

“Yeah, I-” You swallow, meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t look tired, either.

“I think I can manage that,” You whisper, staring up at him.

A grin spreads across his face, wicked and terrifying in the way that only he is.

“I’m ready when you are,” is all he says.

You cling to him as he leads you out of the room and to the elevator, unable to process anything but him. Unable to process the way Hinata whispers ‘ Heartbreaker ’ warmly to you as you pass, or the way the twins give you matching grins of pride when you find them across the room. Definitely not the guy that you’d tried talking to, staring down at you when Suna shoves past him and all but carries you into the elevator.

All you can do is hold tight to him and trust that he’ll get you back to his place. 

He kisses the spot under your ear when the elevator reaches the first floor.

“Come on,” He mumbles against your skin as the doors slide open. “I still gotta fuck you stupid.”

Your face burns as he drags you out of Atsumu’s building and to his bike, unable to imagine how what had just happened doesn’t count as fucking you stupid.

What’ve you just gotten yourself into?

[doumadono]

Babyyyyy! Congratulations 💙🧡💙🧡 I am so happy to see you thrive 💗

Can I get some mint and raspberry ice-creams served in a cone, with some maple syrup on top? 😚 (pro hero au with pro hero Dabi)

Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem!reader, pussy fingering/eating, p in v, dom!Dabi

A/N: thank you very much for your support, sweetheart! I hope you enjoy these headcanons ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA Pro hero Dabi - headcanons PRO HERO DABI & INTERN!BAKUGO Sidekick!Reader - pro hero Dabi headcanons (NSFW)

Dabi, the renowned pro hero, returns home after a day of saving lives and battling villains. His muscles are tense, his spirit is high, and his desire is burning like the blue flames that dance at his fingertips as he get inside his spacious apartment. His eyes are dark and tired at first, but there's a spark that ignites as soon as he looks at you, his lips curling upwards in a wry grin.

You've been waiting for him for hours, eager to provide some much-needed relief. You missed your boyfriend oh so much.

Dabi's strong hands grip your waist, pulling you close. He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You can taste the smoky remnants of his quirk on his tongue as it dances with yours. Your hands reaching up to grip his broad shoulders. You break the kiss, panting. "Touya," you breathe, your cheeks flushed.

"Yes, darling?" Dabi's fingers trace the hem of your shirt. He smirks, knowing how much you love it when he takes control. He tugs the fabric up and over your head, exposing your lacy bra. Dabi's gaze lingers on your body, and you feel a thrill run through you.

You rub your thighs together to ease the tension and wetness building within your pussy. "I-I want you," you stammer, your cheeks flushing with desire as you ran the tip of your tongue over your upper lips to moisture it.

He palms your breasts, teasing your nipples through the lace. "Oh, I know you do," he says, his voice dripping with confidence.

You gasp again, arching into his touch. "Touya…"

Dabi's mouth finds your neck once more, leaving a trail of hot kisses that make you tremble. He continues his exploration, slowly unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor. Touya's fingers pinch and roll your nipples, eliciting a moan from your lips. His other hand travels down your body, reaching the waistband of your pants. He deftly unbuttons them and pulls them off, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties. Dabi's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you. He hooks his fingers into your panties, leans forward and kisses you roughly, pushing his tongue in your mouth as he tugs the panties down, letting them pool at your feet.

You step out of them, feeling vulnerable.

Dabi's hands explore your body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. One of them slips between your thighs and he growls lowly. "Fuck, doll, you're dripping," he claims, bringing his hand up to his lips, licking his index and middle fingers off your juices. He lifts you up effortlessly, like you weighted nothing, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom. He lays her down on the bed, his eyes raking over your body hungrily. He removes his own clothes, revealing his muscular form.

Touya positions himself between your legs, his fingers tracing the wetness between your thighs. He teases your entrance, making you squirm with anticipation. He takes his time, enjoying the power he holds over you in this moment, kissing all over your tummy and gradually coming down. Finally, Touya's mouth descends upon your aching core. His tongue flicks and teases your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. He doesn't shy away from sucking your lips into his mouth.

You cry out, gripping his snow-white, spiky hair as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. "O-Oh! Touya!"

Just as you're about to reach your peak, Dabi pulls away, leaving you gasping for more. He smirks, knowing the torture is part of the fun. He slowly pushes one finger inside, then another, stretching you in preparation for what's to come while his tongue flicks your clitoris.

You moan and arch your back, the sensation of his fingers combined with the anticipation driving you wild. "Oh, God!" You whine, rolling your head back to the pillow. "Fuck me already, tiger, I can't wait any longer," you beg, your eyes glistening with tears. "I don't want to come yet, please!"

He likes to take his time to play with you. He loves seeing you whining so pathetically, practically begging for his cock to be stuffed in your little cunt. When Dabi deems you ready, he positions himself above you, his turquoise eyes locked on yours. He smirks, his hand reaching down to grip his cock. He guides it to your entrance, rubbing it against your wet pussy. "Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, his hips thrusting forward. With one powerful thrust, he enters you, filling you completely.

You cry out, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming.

Dabi begins to move, his strokes deep and steady. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you cling to him, desperate for more.

"More, more more…" you plead desperately.

Dabi's hand finds your clit, rubbing small circles as he continues to pound into you. "You like that, don't you?" he growls, his hips thrusting harder.

The combination of sensations is too much, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of release. "Yes, yes, yes," you chant, your body moving in sync with his.

"Come for me then," Dabi growls, his voice low and commanding. A frown crosses his forhead as his cock throbs painfully, so ready to spill his seed deep within you. Soon, his own release is triggered by the feel of you tightening around him rhythmically.

With a final thrust of his, you shatter, crying out his name as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you; your pussy clenches around his cock making it impossible for him to pull out.

Finally, Touya collapses onto the bed, his body spent.

You curl up against him, your body still trembling. "Welcome back home, handsome," you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed.

He smiles, his arm wrapping around you, slowly rubbing the curve of your waist. "Thanks for such a warm welcome."

[judeswhore]

something small and silly based on this

go easy on me i haven’t written in months idk what im doing

your brother's best friend was studiously trying to ignore you as you perched on the kitchen counter, his attention darting over anything that wasn't your bare legs or glossy lips. the quick clench of his jaw made it obvious that his efforts were in vain because jude didn't need to look at you for his heart to thud or his skin to heat, just the fact you were in the room was enough to make his head spin. his reaction to you was addictive and playing with him was more entertaining than anything else you could have planned for the afternoon.

"why're you lazing around in your knickers?" your brother's voice was laced with disdain, his face scrunched in disgust when he entered the kitchen behind jude. at the mention of your underwear jude glanced sideways at you from his spot by the fridge, dark eyes drinking in the yellow bikini you were sporting and you knew he was replaying all the dirty things he'd done to you in it only days before. he blinked slowly as though mesmerised by the material and the way it clung to your skin, still damp and glistening from the pool.

"it's hot." was all you said, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug as you leant back on one hand, the move pushing your boobs a little further out and causing an awkward cough to splutter in jude's throat. it had you smirking, beyond happy knowing you were making him squirm and knowing the more you taunted him in front of his best friend the more likely he was to make you pay when he got you alone.

"well, you’re an eyesore." you rolled your eyes at the insult, bringing the ice lolly you'd previously been sucking on back up to your lips and watched the two boys root through the fridge. "y'might wanna clear off by the way, the rest of the lads are coming over and none of them want to see you like that."

"the only reason your pig headed friends spend any time over here is because they get to see me." you pointed out, tongue darting out to lick the very bottom of the lolly to save the juice threatening to drip over your fingers.

jude, bottle of water tipped halfway towards his lips, narrowed his eyes at you, brows tugging together in an unimpressed scowl that made your tummy dip. you weren't sure if it was a reaction to the comment that his friends were always leering at you or the suggestive way you were mouthing at the icy goodness in your hand but you enjoyed it either way.

while your brother's head was still stuck firmly in the fridge, jude finally let himself admire your half naked body and the heat of his gaze almost felt like the soft drag of his fingertips when he touched you. it made you shiver, a full body tremor that scattered goosebumps over your arms and legs and awakened the soft tug below your bellybutton that you only ever felt around this boy. you shifted a little atop the counter, squeezed your thighs together to dull the sudden ache and watched jude's lips tip upwards, his eyebrows rising in smug satisfaction.

this was suddenly a two player game and there was no way you were letting him win.

"it's nauseating how full of yourself you are." your brother grumbled, throwing a glare at you over his shoulder as he pulled cans and snacks from the fridge, setting them down on the counter next to him before crouching to raid the freezer. jude remained leaning against the counter directly opposite you, not once letting his gaze stray from yours now the other boy was preoccupied.

"if i was full of something, trust me, it wouldn't be myself." you drawled, lighting up when jude gave a soft laugh and shake of his head, mumbling a quiet "jesus christ" that was almost drowned out by your brother's groans of discomfort.

"for once in your life shut the fuck up." he complained, voice a little muffled behind the freezer door. you had no reply to that, too focused on the way jude was watching you, eyes sparkling with unfiltered lust and that usual sprinkle of mischief. you cocked your head to the side and swung your legs out a little, heart thumping unsteadily in your chest when he threw you a lopsided grin.

there was an obvious thrum of energy between you and you hated knowing you'd have to wait until later that night when your brother had fallen asleep before you could have any sort of alone time with him. sneaking around was fun and exciting until you were overcome with the need to kiss him but could do nothing about it. with your brother busy pulling bottles and bbq ingredients from the freezer you took the few moments his back was turned to play with his best friend, to make sure that when he crawled into your bed later that night it was only with the intention of ruining you.

the ice lolly you were sucking softly on was starting to drip over your fingers, red liquid trailing slowly over your skin but you made absolutely no effort to lick it clean just yet. instead you kept your eyes locked on jude's, let it trickle over your fingers before landing on your chest and sliding between the valley of your boobs. for a couple of seconds you simply let it roll over your too hot skin, hyper aware of the other boys gaze following the slow movement, pupils blowing wide as he took in the soft heave of your tits when you drew in a breath.

brown eyes snapped back up to your face, latched onto the playfully innocent smile you'd slapped on your lips as you tried not to laugh and whispered a quiet "oops" that caused jude's jaw to tick. with your gazes locked you used a finger to swipe over the sticky liquid, clearing it as best you could before bringing the same finger up to your lips and sucking it clean, tongue sliding over the skin as though it was jude's finger you were suckling on. you were making a show of it, revelling in the sharp rise and fall of jude's chest, of the dark look on his face and the slight flare of his nostrils.

slowly letting your finger go you flashed another grin, batted your lashes and went back to licking at the ice lolly, knowing fine well the boy opposite you was seconds away from having a meltdown. he narrowed his eyes, hand dropping to adjust his shorts in a way that made your skin flush with heat, a sudden giggle threatening to bubble up your throat.

"behave yourself." despite the fact jude only mouthed the words the air of dominance was obvious, the threat hidden behind his eyes forcing you to, once again, press your thighs together to ease some of the pressure. you swallowed thickly, ran your tongue over your bottom lip to taste the last bit of the strawberry flavour.

“make me.�� you challenged silently, staring at him head on as you tried not to show just how badly you wanted him to make you. you were painfully aware of the wet patch that had bloomed at the centre of your bikini bottoms and even more aware of your brother as he finally started to rise from his crouch at the freezer.

the pulse in jude’s neck thrummed, half begging you to drag your tongue across it, to sink your teeth into the soft skin and leave marks that claimed him as yours. instead you arched a single brow before hopping down off the counter, dropping your now used lolly stick into the bin as you headed for the door.

“keep your dogs away from my bedroom.” you warned your brother, knocking your hand against the back of his head when you passed, using that same hand to playing pat jude’s cheek before his best friend could turn around. “see ya later, bellingham.”

you could feel the heat of his gaze on your back, or more likely your arse, as you walked away from him and knew he wasn’t paying any attention to your brother’s ramblings about the plans for the afternoon. a satisfied smirk was settled on your lips because you’d gotten what you wanted.

you’d barely made it to your bedroom door when two large hands caught you by the waist, hard chest flush to your back, hips pressed forward so you could feel just how worked up your little show had gotten your boyfriend. a hot kiss was settled against the curve of your jaw as the two of you half stumbled through your bedroom door, jude using his strength and grip on you to push it shut and pin you against it within seconds.

“always so fuckin’ desperate for it, aren’t you?” he mumbled, fingers skimming your stomach before he let them slide between your legs, pressing lightly over your clit through the thin material of your bikini bottoms until you gasped and arched into him. “now be a good girl and stay quiet f’me and i’ll give you exactly what you wanted.”

[buckyalpine]

I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

[leaentries]

headcanons | nico hischier

SUMMARY: boyfriend!nico

WARNINGS: some sexual content included

more boyfriend!player headcanons

✮. stares at your lips when you talk because he’s so obsessed with how pretty they are. especially when you lick or bite them? he’s a goner.

✮. loves to grab your thighs while making out in bed. yk just hiking one up on his hip while he grounds down into you? yeah. also loves the feeling of your body weight on top of his, how full and soft you feel.

✮. always make sure to guide you by the small of your back when in public places. never loses you out of his sight if you’re at a bar or somewhere super crowded. he gets worried very easily if he can’t keep tabs on you. not in a weird stalker way, but in a protective way. just to make sure you’re safe.

✮. with this, he also can get jealous semi-easily. he’s not overly jealous, but def the type to barge in and make sure his presence is known if another man tries to hit on you. will not hesitate to defend you, no matter the circumstance.

✮. has been know to throw a few punches on the ice when chirps start flying around from the other team and your name comes into play. does not joke around about you.

✮. always makes sure to watch your drink if you leave to go to the bathroom with your girlfriends at the bar. if it’s just the two of you, he will stand guard outside the bathroom door to make sure no creeps walk in on you.

✮. one word, hugs. his hugs cure everything. and bonus: hugging you is his favorite past time. (other than being inside of you) i’m talking big ole bear hugs that spread warmth and love through your soul. his hugs feel like vanilla and autumn. he’s the definition of a comfort person.

✮. the kind of guy to keep the bathroom stocked with your desired feminine products bc he tracks your period. he downloaded an app so he can help you.

✮. loves to cuddle and hold his big, warm hands on your tummy when you’re cramping. he’ll act like he hates doing it, but 100% loves it. will cater to almost every need/want you have because he just wants you to be happy.

✮. always keeps extra hoodies in his car, bags, suitcases, etc. that way if you ever get cold or want one he is prepared. also keeps little bits and bobs like your favorite lip products, hair ties, lotions, touch-up makeup, and stuff like that in his glove compartment and console.

✮. basically, he’s perfect.

[raitonsfw]

birthday sex with geto suguru

let’s be honest, geto would forget his own birthday; too wrapped up in the shitty contents of a curse to even remember to look at the date. and being the girlfriend you were, you’d mark it on every calendar you had. 

the vanilla cake you baked for him would be whipped with icing, sweeter than normal– you knew his missions, the curses that he’d swallow, and you wondered if you put enough sugar. knowing his complaints, you’d need the whole bag dumped into the mix and then some.

you’d coo a meaningful ‘happy birthday’ to him as soon as he’d walk in, dazing him from his unethical thoughts and he’d smile at you as he put the pieces together despite his tired mind. it’s not that he meant to forget his own birthday, the day had just caught up with him. and you’d feel bad, but soon the feeling would dissolve as you kiss at buttercream frosted lips.

later that night, he’d be splayed underneath you– completely in awe as you bounced sweetly on his dick. he’d be enraptured by your beauty, his eyes wandering over every surface of your body. Your breasts would bob in his big hands, his entire palm cupping one and you’d moan out as he’d squeeze them lovingly. then, his hands would trail towards your tummy. 

he’d press his fingers lightly against your abdomen, gauging if he could feel his cock bulging against it– and he could. next, his hands would end up smoothing over the plush of your hips– of your thighs and he’d almost cream inside you when you switched your position on top of him. to kiss at his chest, his neck, everywhere you could reach. 

he’d start thrusting inside you now, his strong arms helping you fuck down on him as you’d lap a hickey near his collarbone, eliciting a small groan out of him. which was extremely rare, especially when he was tired. but he just couldn’t help it, you felt so fucking good around him– and your pussy was sinful as you’d squeeze him just right. his eyes would roll back in his head, quiet pants of your name slid from his tongue and you were practically drunk off his voice. 

“you always spoil me, baby…”

“kiss me there, please– right there, need you...”

“j-just like that, keep bouncing for me– o-oh fuck…”

“shit, ‘m getting close… want me to cum inside you?”

and you’d desperately yearn for him to– against his lips that kept you sane and a needy grunt would be swallowed up by your mouth as your own release finds you in sync with his. pulling back, you’d watch with clouded eyes as his head would tilt back into the pillow, his hair curling against his shoulders and his chest rising and falling with his breathy moans. his cock would nestle in you and you’d feel the warmth seeping from him, your precious boy gasping for air as you squeeze around him one last time.

you’d lose yourself a little bit as tiny praises would spill from his mouth as he came down from his high, small ‘thank yous’ and ‘love yous’ making your bottom lip wobble slightly.

you silently made a vow to treat your king right for every birthday he had, no matter what.

© raitonsfw thirsts '24 | 18+ mdni | my own divider do not use.