#Because how the fuck was anyone like…cool with the leering way he talks about literal nazis

[bloodtreachery]

Hm. Man. All the shit about the plagarism is insane but I’m watching the Todd in the Shadows video and man. Listening to the way James Somerton talks about SS soldiers and WWII era germans puts a taste in my mouth. A bad one, notably. What the fuck.

[ladyloveandjustice]

I’m going to post this late at night so no one can see it because omg criticizing a sacred cow

( and I especially don’t want to come off as trashing Nobumoto (only one of the parts I’m even talking about would have to do with her writing actually and I have no idea what was her idea and what wasn’t anyway))

... but I still just need to vent about it, but I’ve seen a lot of people, even other feminists, claim Faye’s character design in Cow/boy Be/bop is “progressive actually” because she ‘uses it to get back at a system that exploits her sexuality’ or even simply saying that she’s a ‘cool femme fatal’ and I rewatched the show recently and she...absolutely doesn’t do that?

She does TRY the femme fatale thing a couple times, but she’s generally not successful. It doesn’t work on Spike or Jet, it doesn’t end well other times. I can’t really think of a time she successfully utilizes her ‘sex appeal’ to capture someone, or where her sexuality is framed in some kind of ‘heck yeah you go girl’ way.

And the two situations that stuck out to me as the most fanservice-y with Faye are situations where she’s completely helpless that leave you with an icky feeling. When she wakes up from cyro sleep, she’s completely naked and her boobs are pressed down super awkwardly and the camera leers at her. There’s no payoff for that, it’s not from the POV of the doctors to show how predatory they are iirc, there’s no commentary, it just happens. Then there’s the part in the movie where the villain assaults her and the rips her shirt open, but it turns out the force kiss was to save her from poison or something, and the shirt rip open was...because he’s a creep? I guess? It’s honestly completely unnecessary, it never comes back in any way, it’s there just to be there, and Faye is clearly very helpless in the situation and very unhappy about it (she even makes a comment about not wanting a peeping tom to see her).

And honestly, those two moments aren’t great. They don’t serve anything. The anime is gross occasionally about Faye and how it frames her body, and I don’t think it does anyone any favors to pretend it isn’t. I do think NetflixBop’s “ now that we’ve made the costume functional and de-damselfied her a bit which means we’ve achieved perfect feminism, nothing else to do, boys” approach is reductive as hell, and the fact Faye had a nuanced character arc and is a disaster and her backstory had some commentary on medical debt and being taken advantage of by the system that was apparently neutered in that show is a good point to make.

(Also I think leaning into the “she tries to be a femme fatale and fails”  to highlight even more how each member of the crew is a hard luck loser would be a valid approach for an adaptation! But I don’t think her skimpy outfit or sexy vibes are deeply tied to the core of her character, or key component that she cannot be Faye without, unless you go with that angle. You can make it about how she’s a fuckup. She puts on a front of being the cool femme fatale, but she isn’t good at it when she tries, and she’s just sad and lost, that’s our twist on the archetype. Otherwise, yeah, it doesn’t add much.)

(I mean honestly, the idea of “weaponizing your sexuality” to get information from men or trick them or whatever is pretty dangerous for women if they try it irl which is why I’m shocked I’m still seeing it talked about unironically as something deeply feminist when used in media, because it’s a. used all the time, it’s not rare and b. rarely done well. And again, not actually ever done successfully much in the anime we’re talking about!) 

So yeah, pretending her design and whatever is something empowering actually, or that she’s even remotely??? successful??? as a femme fatale is something I don’t get. 

(And remember, the movie literally implies Faye doesn’t wear a fucking bra, yet is jumping around shooting people, so whenever anyone’s like “I’m disappointed it wasn’t accurate it’s missing the point of Faye” if her costume makes more sense in a live action adaptation, it’s literally a real person with big boobs couldn’t wear what Faye wears and get through a cartwheel, much less an action scene.)

[brazenautomaton]

OK, I'll bite. Speaking as someone who has never seen the show and very likely never will: what is up with Attack on Titan, thematically, such that anyone should be interested?

I have said elsewhere but it's pretty much the anti-shonen, everything that shonen tropes romanticize is brutally put down agai and again, and not even in a smug "deconstruction" way of "oh ho ho ho this is what it would be like in real life," it just is what it is, it's just the shonen from the Mirror Universe.

if you go to war you're going to be quivering in terror and shitting your pants and you're going to die like a bitch and it won't accomplish anything and you won't understand why it even happened. you resolve your friendship will never split you apart and then one of you is literally split apart, ripped in half and devoured. you will discover your enemies are people like you but it won't matter. whatever power you inherit is a horrible degrading curse. the resolve to fight for your friends forever leads to trying to kill most of the planet.

the word I would us to describe AoT is grotesque. it's what the Titans look the way they do (to that other anon: I am talking about what they call the Pure Titans, the majority of them, the ones who aren't sapient and are just threats to everything around them and mince around like Bill Dauterive or have overly large googly eyes or perpetual "DERRRRRR" facial expressions), because they are a grotesque mockery of humanity.

big spoilz below

Pure Titans all used to be people, and turning into a Titan is this ultimate degradation, ultimate dehumanization, all personhood and thought and life and dreams and hope taken away to leave this monster that isn't even cool, it's revolting as a human being. we see someone who is about to be turned into one as a means of execution shout back to her husband "No matter what, I will always love you, my love will find you!" then she gets injected and turned into a Titan, and instantly becomes nothing but a leering creature with no humanity or sense or dignity, because her vow of love didn't mean a god damn thing

we hear about an ancient founder figure and the hatred for her descendants vs the pride they hold for themselves, whether she was a saint or a tyrant, and we learn the answer is something utterly grotesque, a total degrading mockery of the very idea of national heritage that nobody friend or enemy should want to associate with anyone.

the main character never gives up, he is the kind of guy who vows that he will never stop fighting until his friends are safe and free and this leads to him attempting genocide, because he is a grotesque mockery of moral certainty and simple-minded clarity. the other characters around him, instead of tut-tutting about how this could all be easily avoided if People Were Just Better, ask "fuck, was there any way anything else could have happened?" and they are caught in such an awful and deep and invincible spiral of escalations to threats that they genuinely don't know the answer.

the young people who want to inherit super cool powers and go be warriors defending the people are a grotesque mockery of heroism, subjecting themselves to a horrible fate because they all hate themselves so much they think the existence of their race is a thing they all need to spend all their lives atoning for

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine

The Reader is a virgin and Erik gives her oral turning her out/Erik dry humping The Reader playfully

I am doing two imagines in one because I wanted to write these two together I think it fits lol. Also, it took me forever to write this that is why I haven’t updated in like three days. Very long, and very detailed. Enjoy 💖

Warnings: SMUT, Bickering, slight FLUFF, Daddy-dom, mention of blood, Virgin SMUT, dry humping. 

Like & Reblog

“Yo, am I gonna have to pop this clown! Nigga, don’t you EVER put your fucking hands on my best friend like that. When she tells you no that means no, nigga.”

She looked at him with cautious eyes. Her best friend, Erik Stevens, was there to save the day. Thank God for him. The guy who had a death wish was pushing up on her and grabbing her ass after Y/N told him multiple times that she wasn’t interested. All she had to do was hit up Erik and he came to the rescue. He didn’t fuck around when it involved Y/N. That was his Thickums.

Don’t nobody fuck wit’ my Thickums. I will kill for her.

That’s just how it was.  Erik and Y/N  have been best friends since she met him through her brother. It didn’t take long to connect and vibe the way they both did. Tony, her big bro, died in a motorcycle accident and even though she hates to say it, that accident brought Erik and her closer. Now he was Y/N’s protector since Tony was dead. Erik is older than Tony by three years and Y/N by four.

“Aye, my fault, bruh, this yo girl?” The drunk asshole with frisky hands asked.

“Does that matter? Don’t worry about all that,” Erik pointed a deadly finger at the guy almost shoving his head back, “Don’t touch her again, BRUH, before I put you six feet under-“

“Erik!” Her prominent eyes went wide staring up at him before she mouthed let it go. Over the years Y/N gained some upper body strength with the number of times she had to hold Erik back from killing someone. The thing is, he would literally KILL someone. He didn’t hide anything from her. The times he’d been away was times when he was off doing a mercenary job adding scars to his body. He would come and go with little communication and each time felt like a hole was being drilled into her heart.

Now here he was. Back home after a couple of months. He seemed angrier than the other times he came back from a job. His eyes were stone cold and pitch black. Nostrils flared and blowing smoke like a dragon. Hennessy running through his veins. Fists clenched and veins popping out his arms. Y/N grabs Erik’s jaw to make him look down at her. When she did, his eyes seemed to soften and then a teasing smile spread across his lips.

“I’m cool, Thickums,” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, “I won’t kill nobody tonight, I promise.”

They both had an audience at this little bar and lounge that Y/N’s friend, Paige, dragged her to. All the black people staring over at the bar to see if a fight would break out so they could record. The disgusting guy who tried to touch Y/N walked away muttering something and Y/N was sure that Erik overheard it. Pulling Y/N in closer, Erik placed a kiss to her forehead before turning her back around to face the bar. The smell of his Tom Ford cologne burned her nose. He dragged his face along her wild curly hair with his arm still around her. Y/N didn’t complain because she knew her best friend missed her and he was also very drunk. However, that wasn’t until Erik leaned against her, causing her breasts to painfully smash against the edge of the bar. He was doing that shit on purpose now.

“Erik, stop! you’re putting all your body weight on me, “ Y/N complains as she rolls her eyes before pushing Erik away.

“I miss you, Thickums. It’s always good to see my best friend when I come back home.”

“If you miss me so much you wouldn’t leave like you do, stupid,” She could feel Erik wrapping his large arms around her waist, prompting his biceps to mold into her hips. He was very touchy-feely when he was drunk and Y/N knew she was going to have to babysit his ass. No driving at all.

“Why would you drive here drunk, Erik?” She spoke with a stern voice.

“Because...I can,” He looked down at her with an elevated brow, “Why, you’re gonna punish me, Thickums?”

“If only I could tame your big ass.”

“You wish you could tame me, baby girl. So what’s really been up with you?”

She chuckled before taking a seat at the bar, “Besides the same old everyday boring shit, I’ve been getting set up with blind dates by Paige and her friends.”

“Blind dates? Really?” Erik shook his head before smiling, “And how did that go?”

“Fucking horrible. That’s all they want is sex. I don’t have time for that mess.”

Erik bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

“What?” She asked with a bothered tone.

“I keep forgetting you still have your V card.”

She looked around her at the crowded bar to see if anyone overheard him. Blushing, Y/N takes a sip of her mixed drink. She didn’t want to get on the topic of virginity.

“Let me guess,” Erik nudged her with his shoulder, “You don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Nope. And definitely not here.”

“We ain’t gotta talk about it here we can talk on the way back to your place.”

Y/N leaned back from Erik with a playful smile, “You’re spending the night with me, bestie?”

“Only because I don’t feel like making that drive to my new spot. You gotta come through soon it’s dope.”

“Just like that Audi R8 V10 you got parked outside?”

Erik glanced over at her with low eyes and a smirk, “You love the whip, huh?”

“Love it?” Y/N’s eyes rolled with a leering expression on her face, “Love it doesn’t even describe how much I envy you right now.”

“You’re not driving my shit, woman,” Erik shook his head before waving his hand in her face, “I said no! you can’t drive for shit.”

“HERE WE GO,” Her voice grew loud and defensive, “I can drive jack ass-“

“Not when you swerve up on the sidewalk you can’t-“

“Bitch, don’t even play with me like that it was one time!”

Erik glared at her, his voice becoming deep and gravely, “Did you just call me a bitch?”

“I-Yes, yes I did.”

“You better watch your fucking mouth, Thickums. You’re lucky you’re my bestie because if not...”

Erik smirked before turning away from her. Y/N blinked at him with interest, impatience written all over her face.

“If not, what?”

“...Put my dick in your mouth to make you shut up.”

“Oh...” her skin felt like a furnace.

“See, that’s why I didn’t want to say it. You need to loosen up, bestie,” Erik nudges her shoulder playfully.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me, E,” Y/N avoided Erik’s eye. She couldn’t understand why she felt so...turned on. Maybe it was because that was the first time a guy ever said something like that to her. She wouldn’t feel so awkward if he said that to another girl but he was referring to her in that manner. Now, the wheels in her head were turning. What if Erik wanted Y/N to be his girl? What if he thought about having sex with her but didn’t mention it for obvious reasons. Y/N was so deep in thought at the bar that she hadn’t noticed Erik calling her name. It took for him to wrap his arms around her waist again and pull her close to him for her to finally snap out of her daze and come back to the present.

“Huh?” She said with a whimsical expression on her face.

“You good? Should we bounce?” Erik asked with concern. His brown eyes focused on her intently.

“Um, yeah, we can,” She grabbed her clutch from the bar, grimacing a little because it was sticky at the bottom, “let me just tell Paige and then we can go-“

“Paige ain’t worried, look,” Erik pointed to a small section near a bar on the other side of the lounge. Paige was surrounded by a few men and her other friends she brought with her. They were freak dancing and flirting with drinks in their hands and low eyes.

“Paige ain’t worried. She too busy freaking on some dude.”

“And drunk out of her damn mind,” Y/N added with a disapproving tone.

“Jealousy isn’t a good look, bestie,” Erik joked.

“Jealous? Why the fuck would I be jealous, Erik?”

“Because deep down in your virgin heart, you want to let loose and grind that thick ass on a nigga. I know you do. You ain’t even gotta front with me. I know you better than you know yourself, Thickums.”

“Clearly you don’t, because-“

“Save all that shit, ma,” Erik threw down some money that the bartender graciously grabbed before someone else did, “Let’s go. We need to have a little discussion.”

“No,” she shook her curly head, “You are drunk, I’m calling an Uber.”

“I’m not getting in the back of somebody’s car when I have my own,” Erik snatched her phone from her hand, “And I’m not drunk, just a little buzzed. I’ll finish off my bottle when we get in the house, ma.”

“Whatever,” Y/N stomped away and through the crowd, leaving Erik behind. He caught up with her and grabbed her hand, both of them rushing out of the claustrophobic lounge. Finally, outside, Y/N was thankful for the 60-degree weather because it felt much better against her skin than the 90 degrees in the lounge.

“Can I have my phone back now, DAD?”

“Not with that fucking attitude,” Erik pulled her arm like she was a bad kid, “Let’s go.”

Y/N stayed rooted to the spot. She pulled her arm back causing Erik to stumble and a black couple to walk past snickering. Erik looked down at her as if she tried to kill him. Eyes round saucers, nostrils flared, breathing heavily like a dungeon dragon, grip on her hand tighter than before, Erik was pissed.

“Y/N,” Erik looked from side to side before speaking in a gruff low tone, “Don’t make me embarrass you out here, best friend or not, I will whip that ass.”

“Okay, Killmon-“

“Say it.” Erik dared her. Y/N snapped her mouth shut before lowering her head to fight a smile. She loved toying with Erik.

“Getting on my damn nerves,” He pulled her again, “now come on before I throw you over my shoulder.”

“Fine,” She stopped with her games for now. They both walked down the street and around a corner to find Erik’s car parked next to a Subway. He unlocked the doors with a click of a button before walking to the passenger side to allow Y/N access. She slipped inside and watched Erik shut the door softly. As he walked around to the other side, Y/N opened the door again and slammed it shut. She snickered and damn near lost her breath at the way he stopped in front of the car and scowled at her. He nodded his head slowly before walking with his chest poked out to the driver's side. Y/N could not control her laughing. Hand clutched for her chest, eyes welling up with tears, breathing nonexistent. She was in literal shambles.

“WHAT THE FUCK, GIRL!” Erik growled, “You really asking for it don’t be slamming my door like that!!!!fuck is wrong with you!!!”

“You should have seen your face, oh my God,” she threw her head back, “You were ready to kill me over your whip.”

“You wanna try me again?” Erik asked with an even tone. But it was a dangerous tone of voice.

“If it makes you look all angry like a pit bull then HELL YEAH,” Y/N closed her eyes, falling into laughter again.

“I really wanna throw you over my lap and pop that big ass butt until you cry.”

Y/N licked her lips, the laughter gone and replaced with a shocked expression.

“...did you? I mean...did you just?”

Erik didn’t say a word. He started his car, turned the volume up on the radio, and focused all of his attention on driving even though his hands were itching to spank her good and hard.

“Erik?” Y/N asked with a soft tone. Still, nothing from him.

“E-Kill-I’m sorry,” She put an innocent smile on her face, “I love you, bestie, don’t be mad at me.”

“You really know how to piss a nigga off.”

Y/N beamed, leaning over to kiss Erik’s cheek, “It was all jokes, kay? I just like messing with you.”

Erik shook his head, “It’s because you know I won’t get you for it. But that’s where you’re wrong, Thickness,” Erik reaches across to the passenger side, grabbing Y/N’s exposed thigh and squeezing it hard. She swatted his hand away before kissing her teeth. Erik laughs before mushing her playfully.

“What do you mean?” She looked at him with wary eyes while massaging her upper thigh. His grip was firm.

“My best friend is too beautiful and sexy and she needs to let loose a little, cut all that shy shit out. You hear me talking to you, Thickums?”

“I hear you but I’m not following,” She gave Erik a puzzled look.

“When we get back to the house,” Erik paused for mystery, “I’m gonna teach you some things.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll see. Put your seatbelt on.”

Y/N fastened her seatbelt. She kept her eyes on Erik to see if he would break down and tell her but no, he acted like she wasn’t even there staring at him with her doe eyes. Y/N pouts, folding her arms across her chest. The silence was eating her alive. The drive felt longer than usual. As soon as they pulled into her Apartment Complex and Erik parked his car next to hers, she hopped out and walked to her building to unlock the door. Erik took his time grabbing his bottle of Hennessy to annoy her further. He even turned up the music in his car to bop to a little while drinking.

“Drip to hard/don’t stand too close/you gon’ fuck around and drown off this wave/doing all these shows/I’ve been on the road/I don’t care where I go/long as I get paid/bad lil vibe/she been on my mind/Soon as I get back/she gettin’ slayed/do this all the time/this ain’t no surprise/every other night/another movie getting made!!”

She watched Erik rap in his driver's seat, tapping her foot rapidly against the concrete with a mug on her face. She was fuming watching him have his little concert.

“Erik!!!” She yelled at him even though he could hardly hear her with that loud music.

“What’s up, Y/N!”

Y/N turned to see her neighbor, Sharnese, walking towards the building in a pair of leggings and a thin ass T-shirt with a bonnet on her head.

“Hey, Nese,” Y/N groaned, her eyes focusing back on Erik dancing in his driver's seat.

“You okay, girl?” Sharnese followed Y/N’s line of vision and a big smile appeared on her face. Sharnese squealed like a schoolgirl, jumping up and down making her titties bounce around.

“IS THAT ERIK?!”

“Yeah, that’s his annoying ass-“

“OH MY GOD ITS BEEN FOREVER SINCE IVE SEEN HIM!” She rushed towards his car. Sharnese ran around to Erik’s side, knocking on his window. Erik looked over at her before smirking, rolling his window down. Sharnese wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck before leaning into the car, all in Erik’s face, planting a kiss to his cheek. They were talking a little too close for Y/N’s liking. She was growing jealous.

Why is this bitch on my best friend like that?

Sharnese giggles then she bit her lip.

Girl, you do too much.

“Erik!!!!!!” Y/N yelled making her throat raw. Sharnese and Erik looked over at her as if she interrupted something.

“What? Let’s go!” Y/N finally unlocked the door to the building before pulling it open and stomping up the steps to her place. She was so angry that she dropped her keys a few times while trying to get her apartment door, 2C, opened.

“I haven’t seen Nese in a minute, Y/N, stop acting like that.”

She ignored Erik and walked into her place, kicking off her shoes at the door. Feeling a vibration inside her clutch, Y/N pulled her phone out to see that she’d gotten a message notification from Paige letting her know that she made it home safe with everyone.

“She was all in your face, Erik.”

“I know,” He walked to the kitchen to retrieve a few cups, “She’s cute. Pretty and ghetto.”

“Erik, shut up.”

“I don’t want her, Y/N. Stop being jealous. Every time I come home you have me to yourself. A nigga has needs too. Just because you ain’t getting none doesn’t mean I don’t want none.”

“Was that a jab at me for being a virgin?” She was truly offended.

“Let’s talk about that.”

Y/N saw Erik pouring two cups of Hennessy and apple juice.

“What is there to talk about? I haven’t had dick Erik, boo-hoo, what’s so special?”

Erik almost spilled his drink, “What’s so special? Man,” He laughs, “You wouldn’t be saying that if you let a nigga pop your cherry.”

“I don’t want just any nigga taking my virginity, my pussy is too precious for any nigga.”

“You’re right,” Erik swirled his drink around his mouth before swallowing, “That’s why I have a suggestion.”

“If it involves one of your friends, fuck no-“

“If you shut up and let me talk, Thickums, then you’ll know.”

Y/N sat down on her carpeted floor in her living room, head leaning back against the couch. She motioned for Erik to speak.

“What if...I help you out?”

“Come again?” She asked him to clarify.

“What if I am the one to...” Erik made a motion with his hands to make her catch on to what he was inquiring about. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion at that very moment. Y/N stares unblinking at Erik. Even him snapping his fingers in her face didn’t break her out of it.

“Oh my God,” Erik ran his hands down his face frustratingly, “It’s sex, Y/N, I’m asking you to let me be the nigga to pop your precious cherry.”

Still bewildered, she opened then closed her mouth like a fish in the water.

“Hello?” Erik said with annoyance, “Why are you giving me the silent treatment now?”

“Um...” Y/N laughs nervously,  lifting from the floor to take a seat while gripping the edge of the couch, “Erik...are you for real?”

“No, I’m for play,” Erik chuckles, “Yes, Thickums, I’m asking you to...let me...you know...lay that pipe.”

“Nah,” Y/N motioned for Erik to pass her his cup, “That’s enough devil juice for you tonight, bestie, you are really tripping.”

Erik threw it back in one sip before placing his cup on the coffee table, “I’m dead ass, ma, no games over here. I really wanna hit.”

“Wow. What the hell happened to you when you were gone for two whole months?”

“Nothing, I’m still the same old Erik. Just...okay don’t look at me like that,” Erik rolls his eyes, “You want me to keep it real?”

Y/N tilted her head up at Erik, “Yes, I want you to keep it real and stop messing around. You don’t play and say something like that unless you really want to do that, you get what I’m saying?”

“Yeah,” Erik lets out a breath slowly, “which is why I’m about to be brutally honest.”

“Fuck,” Y/N nibbled on her bottom lip.

“Fuck ain’t even the word, Thickums,” Erik looked over at his Hennessy, “I’m gonna need more to drink.”

“Fill mine up too,” Y/N really needed it. Her stomach felt queasy. She figured drinking Erik’s favorite drink would calm her nerves and prepare her for what this man had to say. Erik walked over with her cup and the bottle, settling next to her on the couch. He poured himself a cup, then handed her the mixture he made with the apple juice. Y/N curled up into the corner of the couch while tucking her toes into the cushion to warm them. She fixed her skirt so Erik wouldn’t have a straight-on view of her panties.

“Aight so listen,” Erik leans on his thighs while twirling his cup in hand, “I’ve thought about having sex with you on plenty of occasions but I didn’t initiate it because you’ve been my best friend since like, forever, and I just didn’t want to make the shit weird-“

“Like right now?” Y/N spoke with a shaky voice.

“Yeah...like right now. This shit is mad awkward forget I brought it up-“

“Nope,” Y/N takes a long sip before scrunching her face with disgust. Too much Hennessy and not enough apple juice.

“Don’t get scared over there cuz I know you can’t talk about sex for five seconds.”

“You’re so petty,” Y/N scowled, “Keep talking.”

“I told you I’m going to be brutally honest. And... I peep shit.”

What did he peep? Y/N sat up straighter. She felt like she was sitting in a confessional with a lie detector attached to her arm.

“For one thing, you get mad jealous when I talk to other women. Like...possessive. Two, you stare a nigga down hard when I got my shirt off and when I’m walking around in my grey sweat pants-“

“Erik-“

“Don’t interrupt me again,” He said with a husky voice. Y/N closed her mouth and listened.

“You blush anytime I make a reference to sex or compliment you, especially if I talk about your ass. You love it when I call you my Thickums. Makes you feel special doesn’t it?”

“I hate you.” She could feel her cheeks heating up. Y/N covered her face out of embarrassment.

“No, you love me,” Erik reaches across to pull her hands away, “And you have feelings for me.”

“Leave it alone, ERIK.” She was starting to grow frustrated.

“You want me to be that special nigga that pops your cherry-“

“Didn’t you pop Paige’s cherry? If that’s the case then you’re not so special, ERIK.”

Erik mugged at her, “The fuck you mean by that? I ain’t never fuck Paige. That’s a fucking insult to myself, especially this dick,” Erik pointed to the dick in question. He kissed his teeth, “Man...I can’t believe you put me and Paige in one sentence like that.”

“That’s what everybody said, Erik! And you didn’t deny it either-“

“Everybody must wanna die. I don’t like motherfuckers lying on me, Y/N. You know how I can get,” Erik’s jaw tightened, “Really? And you of all people believed that shit?”

“Because you DIDNT DENY IT.” She yelled.

“Number one, I was hardly around to deny it. Two, I don’t entertain that bullshit. It’s child’s play. Three, I would never disrespect you like that and fuck your homegirl-“

“Erik, you fucked one of my homegirls STOP IT,” Y/N laughed harshly.

“WHO?” He argued back.

“JAMILLA.” Y/N fired back.

“JAMILLA? Big titties? Chocolate? Short cut hair?”

“...Yes.” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose. Erik was deep in thought for a second before a coy smile spread across his lips. Y/N hated his handsome smile at that very moment.

“I remember Jamilla,” Erik reaches for his cup but those dimples couldn’t be hidden even if he tried, they were too damn deep.

“She was cool,” He shrugs, bringing that cup to his lips but as soon as he looked over at Y/N’s glaring face Erik damn near spit his drink all over his crisp white T-shirt.

“Fuck you.” Y/N said with spite.

“Listen, can we just get back on topic? About you? I’m not worried about Jamilla, Paige, or Sharnese, okay? I’m worried about my best friend-“

“That you all of a sudden want to fuck?”

“It’s not all of a sudden-did you hear what I said earlier? I SAID that I thought about it plenty of times before, Thickums.”

“Well...why bring it up now?”

“Because I figured I should tell you and get it off my chest since you want some dick from a worthy nigga such as myself.”

“What makes you think it’s you that I want dick from?”

Erik bites his lower lip, “That’s really cute, ma, real cute. What other nigga is worthy? You turn down any dude that gets in your space, and I’m the only man that you’re this comfortable around. So, if that doesn’t confirm it I don’t know what else does. Unless...there are some personal reasons that you haven’t shared with me,” Erik raises a brow at her while looking at her body. Y/N felt exposed and purely shocked at Erik looking at her the way he was. All seductive and sexy.

“Admit it,” Erik pushes, “You want to lose your virginity to me but you’re afraid. You’re afraid to ask because I’m your best friend and you don’t want to make it weird and ruin our friendship. Admit it...you were saving yourself for me.”

Y/N had a vacant expression on her face. She looked away from Erik and down into her lap, twirling the ring around her finger. She couldn’t look Erik in the eyes. He was right. She was saving herself for him. She thought she could deny it for however long and hope that he would somehow make the first move on her. She hadn’t expected that day to be today. He could read her so well. Was she really that obvious?

“I don’t hear you talking, Thickums.”

“Shut up, Erik.”

“Talk to me-“

“NO!” She threw a pillow at Erik’s head, “No! I’m not saying shit.”

“Cuz’ I’m spot on,” He laughs, “I knew it-“

“Erik...shut up...right now.”

“NO. You shut up before I lay you out on this fucking couch-“

“Don’t tell me to shut up-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Erik raised his voice.

“Who are you talking to?!!!-“

Erik Damn near charged at Y/N on the couch, pinning her body down flat, bringing her arms above her head, and placing his strong body on top of hers. She squirmed, squealed, fussed, but Erik wasn’t letting go. He allowed her to grow tired so that she would have no other choice but to give in. Finally, she stopped moving and started whimpering. Erik was laid out on top of her, his crotch resting on her upper thigh. The more she made those little whimpering noises the more his dick grew. He looked down at her thigh then up into her face. She weakly met his eyes before looking away to avoid them.

“Look at me,” Erik demanded.

“No. You need to get off of me.”

“But you don’t want me to.”

Y/N moved her thigh that was directly under Erik’s crotch, giving him some friction. Erik swallowed spit. That thigh meat felt good against his dick. He went to move against her causing her to writhe beneath him, her thighs moving up and down. Up and down. Side to side. Side to side.

“What are you doing?” Y/N glanced down at her leg.

“Nothing,” Erik plays it off.

“Erik,” Y/N threw her head back against the arm of the couch, “get off of me.”

“No.”

“Pleaseeeee.” She begged.

That only made Erik move against her thigh again. Alarmed, Y/N started twisting her wrists to try and release herself from his grasp.

“What are you d-doing?” She staggered.

“Just playing,” Erik laughs.

“Playing?” Y/N watches Erik move his crotch up and down her leg.

“Erik, are you-“

“Just shut up and let it happen, Thickness,” His dick was almost at full capacity. About 95% hard. It was Y/N’s thick thighs. Felt like he was grinding into a couch cushion with how thick and soft she is. Each time his dick would rub against her, his balls would jump.

“Erik, a-are you humping me?” Y/N barely spoke. Her voice was so low in his ear. How did it get to this? One minute Y/N was calling up Erik to help her out and now he was grinding his dick against her thigh. Her face was frozen. Her limbs were stiff. She could feel that thick pole and all its length glide against her skin. Each time he came back up his dick would twist to the side in his jeans and touch her inner thigh. He was...she couldn’t find a word that best describes how big he was besides large. Enormous? Monstrous? Vast? Colossal?

“What does it look like, ma?” He bit into his lip, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth at Y/N’s expression. She was lost. Barely able to register what was happening.

“That’s what it looks like,” Y/N spoke off to the side because she couldn’t look Erik in the eye.

“This too much for you, Miss Virgin? I mean...” he swiveled his hips causing his dick to move from side to side on her thigh, “I know you’re pure and all...”

“Fuck, Erik. Please get off of m-me,” Y/N’s heart was thumping in her rib cage, “You’re drunk and when you wake up tomorrow you won’t even realize what you d-did.” She felt exhausted and all she was doing was laying there taking Erik’s assaults. He clearly thought the shit was hilarious because Y/N could tell that he was smiling in her peripheral.

“You got me over here dry humping you’re leg. Stop acting like you don’t like it and let go.”

“I can see that,” she said with an awkward tone, “Erik, I’m in literal shock right now-“

“See what? You ain’t seeing shit with your eyes looking at the wall.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before biting her tongue. She did like it. She’d never experienced it. He was centimeters away from her crotch. All he had to do was pull his pants and briefs down and there would be skin on skin humping. Y/N would probably cum right then and there from that alone. Her pussy was throbbing right now, “I have more courage to focus on the wall than at what you’re doing to me right now.”

“Thickums,” Erik whispered in her ear, “don’t you wanna see it?” Her heart stopped.

“It?” She asked with a perplexed expression.

“Yeah,” He smiled, “Tell me what it is.”

“...I don’t want to, Erik.” She shook her head, trying to force herself to breathe normally again.

“Why? Tell me, I’m your bestie.”

Why is your dick so big? Why are you making my pussy so wet? Can you please pop my cherry? I’ve always wanted this too. Erik, I’m dick-hungry and I need it. Show me?

Her eyes closed.

“Why are you so damn thick?” His breathing was ragged.

“Genetics,” she answered sarcastically.

Erik kisses his teeth, “You’re so damn uptight. Loosen the fuck up before I make you.”

“Erik, please-“

“Nah, I want you to stop acting all shy. It’s me, Erik, your best friend for like, 15 years?”

But,” Y/N licked her dry lips, “My best friend is getting...getting hard because of me. It’s...I can’t even think straight.”

Erik grabs her chin, making her look at him. When she did, she saw all of the desire in his eyes. Raw, uncontrollable, desire. It stunned her. Now, Y/N couldn’t look away. He wasn’t giving her an annoyed look like he usually would. He wasn’t ready to burst into a laughing fit as if to say “gotcha”. Y/N knew he was dead serious. She felt her body relax against his. This was Erik. She could be open with him and honest.

“Erik...,” Y/N looked from her thigh to his face, “I’m not gonna lie...I’m nervous.”

“I know. That’s why I want you to loosen up. We don’t even gotta have sex-“

“No, no. I want to.” Y/N felt her body shivering.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I do want you to be my first. I can’t think of anybody else...”

There was silence for a moment. Erik and Y/N just stared at each other. They were silently accepting what the next move would be. Kiss. Undress. Touch. Lick. Suck. Fuck.

“I got you,” Erik kisses her forehead, “I promise it’ll be amazing. None of that wack shit. I want my best friend to have a memorable first time.”

“Okay,” Y/N spoke with a soft voice.

“Okay,” Erik let go of Y/N’s wrists above her head slowly. Her hands came down at her sides. Erik watched her for a moment to see if she would change her mind but Y/N waited patiently for Erik to make the first move. Any move. Erik’s eyes admired Y/N. Full lips, prominent brown eyes, round nose, head full of kinky curly hair that frizzed at the ends because she picked it out. Now, his eyes were staring at the silhouette of her body. Curvy, soft, chocolate. Everything that he loved. Everything he wanted to eat, suck, lick, bite, fuck. Erik reaches his left hand up to Y/Ns face. Using just his fingertips, Erik strokes Y/N from her forehead down to her chin. His thumb would delicately touch her cheek while he gazed into her eyes to watch her every reaction.

“You’re so beautiful Thickums,” Erik smiles.

“Thanks, E,” she bashfully looked down.

“Especially those lips,” Erik bit his lip, “Those lips looking really juicy.”

“Oh gosh,” Y/N giggles while biting her lip.

“Stop, STOP,” Erik deepens his voice, “I’m supposed to bite that lip.”

Y/N slowly dragged her lip from between her teeth. The moment her spit covered lip released, Erik takes his teeth to bit her lip lightly. Y/N’s body jumped. She wasn’t used to that type of contact. Of course, she kissed guys before but never like this. Erik’s lips sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. Y/N could taste the Hennessy on his tongue. His tongue was so warm and silky smooth. Each time he dragged his tongue along her bottom lip, Y/N would take her fists to grip Erik’s shirt tightly.

“You’re gonna let me stick my tongue down your throat, Y/N?”

“Y-yes.”

Erik gripped her neck lightly, taking his much fuller lips to mold with Y/N’s. He took her breath away each time he kissed. Y/N brought her hands up to hold Erik’s face, closing her eyes to relish at the moment. She couldn’t look at him while they kissed. It was too intense. Erik didn’t even speak, his body did all the talking. Grinding his iron-hard dick into her thigh, grunting into her mouth, tongue wiggling in her mouth, hands coming down to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his solid chest. He could feel her nipples through her Demi bra and thin white top.

“Erik,” Y/N stopped kissing Erik to breathe and lick her swollen lips, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I can’t either,” Erik reaches up to grab her left breast, “but I like this shit. My dick is...so stiff.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered.

“Look, let me show you.”

Erik sat on his knees. Y/N watched with low eyes as Erik unbuttons his jeans. Then comes the zipper. The one barrier keeping that long dick away from her. Erik takes his shirt to rest under his chin, his hands sliding into his jeans and briefs, pulling them down in one clean motion. Her gasp and wide eyes were the reactions that he wanted. Y/N covered her mouth, her eyes never leaving Erik’s dick. Long, girthy, smooth, groomed, chocolate, veins protruding through his skin, tip shiny from his precum, Y/N was blown away. 

“You see how hard my dick is?” Erik moved his hips to make his dick bounce, “I’m so hard, bestie.”

“Um,” Y/N licked her lips, “It’s nice, Erik...it’s...a lot of dick.”

Both of them laugh.

“Yeah,” Erik grabs Y/N’s hand, “touch my dick, Thickums.”

“I’m scared,” Y/N nervously laughs.

“It’s okay, relax, ma. Didn’t I tell you I got you?”

“Yeah…,” Y/N looked up at Erik through her lashes.

“So let me take care of you,” Erik rubs her hand with his thumb, “Here,” he spoke softly. 

Erik wrapped Y/N’s hand around his shaft. Her fingers hardly touched with her hand grabbing him. She swallowed spit, her chest rising and falling swiftly. Y/N was afraid to do anything else but the warmth and softness of his dick made her pussy convulse. Imagine all that smooth dick sliding inside of you. Covered in your cream, stretching you out, digging deeply, and making you cum and squirt. At that moment, Y/N forgot about what her fingers and toys could do. She wanted to find out what Erik’s dick could make her do. 

“Look at that little hand grabbing all this meat.”

“Fuck, Erik.”

“Don’t worry, just wait, you’ll be able to take all of this.”

“I-okay…” Y/N was unsure.

“That tight pussy can stretch, Y/N, before you know it, that pussy is gonna’ take all of me.”

She whimpers.

Erik didn’t say a word as he started untying Y/N’s long wrap skirt. He pulled the skirt from her body and stared down at a pair of yellow lace panties wrapped around a chocolate treat. 

“Mhm,” Erik took his fingers to play with the corners of the crotch of her panties, “This the pussy I’m taking, Y/N? This virgin pussy?”

“Uh-huh,” she spoke timidly.

“Uh-huh is right,” Erik leaned down to her again, Y/N’s hand still wrapped around his dick, “I’m eating your pussy too.”

“Okay, you can eat my pussy,” She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“You can eat my pussy,” Erik mocked her sweet voice, “Damn, just like that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Her voice was shaky.

“Bet,” Erik grabbed the end of Y/N’s shirt. He pulled it up past her belly and then over her bra. She had on a brown Demi bra. 

“Damn, nice full titties, ma,” He pulled down the straps and watched each fleshy mound pop out with hard Hershey kiss nipples. Y/N closed her eyes, skin heated from Erik using his thumbs to pluck her nipples and twirl them. Erik then pulled her nipples and shook her breasts, releasing them and watching them bounce. Y/N’s deep breaths became louder and louder while she squirmed beneath him. 

“Shit feels good doesn’t it?” 

“Yessssss,” She hissed.

“Ima suck em for you-“

“Please?” She reached out for him.

Erik wrapped his lips around her left nipple. He sucks nice and hard. She could feel her nipple repeatedly being pulled and suckled between Erik’s tight lips. Each nerve ending in her nipple ignited and sparked. Her thighs rubbed together, and her hands clawed his arms, mouth unhinged and stayed wide open with no sound escaping. So this is what it felt like to be suckled on? Now, she wanted him to show her right breast some attention. Y/N takes her hand to grip the back of Erik’s neck, pulling his face over to her other breast with a pout of her lip.

“Ha,” Erik looked up at her through his long lashes, “My bestie feenin’ already.” 

“It feels good,” She blushes.

“Mmm,” Erik gave her right nipple the same amount of attention while using his thumb to play with her left nipple. Y/N’s body arched and writhed. She ran her fingers through his dreads, pulling the coarse hair. He made her body tingle all over. Her toes curled and eyes rolled. If Erik kept this up she might cum. It felt that strong and good that she was ready to burst. 

“Fuck, girl,” Erik’s chin was stained with spit, “You taste like chocolate all over these nipples.” Erik licked her nipples one by one to give them equal amounts of attention. Her fingers in his hair were so violent. Erik could feel pain in his scalp as if she was trying to snatch his hair out. Y/N’s skin was at high temperature and now her thighs were squeezing Erik’s hips. 

“Chill out, Thickums,” Erik reaches around her body to pull her bra fully off, “That’s better,” his hands squeezed and massaged her breasts, “Give me a kiss.”

Initiating the kiss this time around, Y/N leaned forward on her elbows, sloppily crashing her lips into Erik’s. He softly chuckles, blowing air from his nose that tickles her upper lip. It was unhurried, steady, and gentle. Y/N wanted to learn Erik’s mouth and what he liked. Did he prefer for her to use a lot of tongue or did he enjoy the way she sucked on his bottom lip? Erik seemed to approve of whatever she did because he was grunting into her mouth repeatedly. Kissing him made her body have chills. Y/N felt like her soul was being sucked through her mouth into his from how breathless she was at the moment. 

“God,” she broke the kiss, taking in a deep breath. Erik trailed his kisses down her neck and back up over and over. Goosebumps rose over her skin and his hands stroking her shoulders didn’t help. 

“Your lips are so fucking soft, Mhm,” He nibbled on her bottom lip, “Why did you move your hand from my dick, ma? Put it back on there.”

Scared, Y/N grabs Erik’s dick again, testing the weight of it. He was so sure that she would be able to take him just fine but the more she squeezed him and lightly stroked him she started to feel apprehensive. Y/N’s hand moves down to touch Erik’s balls. She trembled, her breath coming out uneven. 

“Y/N,” Erik could feel her hand shaking around him, “Relax, baby, relax, Aight?”

“Erik-“

“Shhh, don’t talk,” Erik pulled at Y/N’s panties, “Let me take care of you, okay? That way, you’ll feel more confident to take care of me.”

Y/N simply nodded her head. Erik grabbed the sides of her panties to tug down her legs. Her knees quaked as soon as the fabric was down past her toes. She was now fully exposed in front of her best friend. Her best friend and now her fuck buddy. It was now or never. 

“Aren’t you going to take off your clothes, E?”

“Not until I’m finished with you. I want you to undress me.” Erik carefully placed his hands on Y/N’s knees, “I’m about to spread these thick thighs, ma, you ready?”

Dragging her tongue over her bottom lip, Y/N nodded her head sluggishly.

“Talk to me, ma, say yes,” Erik’s hands dragged up her thighs.

“Yes,” Erik was captivating her with his smooth voice. He can get all the pussy in the world with his voice. 

“Good girl. See? That wasn’t hard, Thickums-“

“Erik…,” She shyly looked away, “um...can you take off your clothes too? That’ll make me feel more comfortable if you're naked like me.”

“You sure?” He asked with a single brow upthrust. 

“I’m sure, E,” Y/N smiled, “Let me.”

Erik stood from the couch while Y/N sat in front of him. She helped him out of his jeans and briefs before tossing that on the floor in a wrinkled pile. Now, her fingers lightly pulled at the bottom of his shirt, hitching it up to reveal his scar covered abdomen and chest. Erik helped her out the rest of the way, pulling at his shirt from the back, then up and over his head forward. Even undressing him was stimulating. Erik was a lot of man. Able-bodied and powerful. 

“Lay back, girl, let me taste you.”

She could feel her body laying back against the couch but her mind was elsewhere. She was enthralled but at the same time, she was a nervous wreck. Erik’s strapping body hovered over hers for a moment before his chest touched her naked one. The scarring gave Y/N a pleasant texture against her nipples. His lips sucked on her throat before trailing down the middle of her chest, her belly where he licked her outie-belly button, and now all over her phat mound. She was smooth down there and could feel the moisture of his lips caressing and tasting her. She could feel her body thrusting up into Erik. Y/N’s heated eyes watched him push her thighs back gently so he could kiss her pussy lips delicately. Even when he kissed her outer lips, Erik could still taste her arousal. Sweet, syrupy, goodness. It was the natural lubricant that leaked from a virgin puss. Erik wanted to growl. 

“Goddamn,” He was fanatical, “This motherfucker tastes good.” 

“Thank you,” she withdrew her eyes from his, “It feels good...I like it…”

“How much?” Erik stroked his thumb up and down her pussy lips to rub in her natural lubricant. Each time he drew his thumb back, a slimy string would connect to the pad of his thumb from her pussy lips. Erik sucked his thumb each time causing his best friend to gasp with surprise. 

“Tell me how much, Y/N.”

“So much,” she said with a self-conscious voice.

“Girl...I’m gonna break you out of that shy shit tonight. Wait and see.”

“Erik, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize. I know, baby, you can’t help yourself. I’m putting my lips on this little pussy and it’s too much to handle. Just know this though...I’m gonna make you handle it.”

“Oh,” she lets out a shaky breath, “You’re nasty, Erik.” She nervously bit into her bottom lip. He was too nasty. 

“This ain’t nowhere near how nasty I can get,” Erik looked down at Y/N’s pussy, “open these thick thighs so I can see this little pussy, okay?”

“Okay,” hesitantly, Y/N opened her shaking thighs. Erik watched her juicy peach span out for him. The sound of her wetness against the skin of her pussy when her lips spread had Erik grinding his hips into the couch cushions. Y/N’s pussy is beautiful. All that honey sticking to her clit, labia, and outer pussy lips. He didn’t even want to lick it up just yet. It was so breathtaking coated in her sloppy goodness. He remembers taking some chick virginity when he was in high school and all he wanted to do was cum. But now, he took his time to fully admire how beautiful her pure and flawless pussy is. 

“Baby girl...I don’t even want to ruin this just yet...oh my God-“

“Why?” She asked with a perplexed expression.

“Because it’s so precious, that’s why,” Erik licked his lips. 

“Well...I want you to eat it, Erik, right now, please?”

“Right now?” Erik smirked, “look at you, demanding me. How about you lay there and watch me eat this pussy. How about that? And you better not look away either.” 

Y/N gave Erik a nervous smile, “I’ll try…”

“Nah, you better do it, Thickums, you ready?”

“Yes.”

Erik adjusted Y/N’s hips on the couch. He got down on his knees and spread her legs wide. Y/N sat up on her elbows so she could watch him like he instructed her to. Erik’s hands smoothed up the back of her thighs before holding them firmly like he did when they were in the car. Pussy spread open and ready to be devoured, Erik started off by giving his best friend soothing kisses to her clit and labia. Y/N reluctantly watched Erik. She tried to pay attention but what she really wanted to do was hide her face with a pillow. She felt so exposed and watching her best friend kiss her pussy, her special place, made her want to shrink away. Erik is so intimidating and experienced, Y/N felt like she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him.

“Erik...Erik,” She called his name. He was too busy getting his lips covered in her juices. Y/N let out a silent scream when she felt the first lick. He dragged his long tongue between her inner lips and up over her clit. Erik repeated this a few times before looking up into her eyes. Y/N gave Erik a sheepish grin. 

“I like it when you say my name like that.”

He tongue kissed her outer lips on each side before placing that same kiss but slower on her clit. Erik had a finesse with eating pussy that Y/N wasn’t prepared for. He took his time to work her up to even more wetness and a powerful orgasm. Now Y/N was being needy. She could see her hips pushing up into Erik’s mouth each time he gave her attention to her clit. Even while he teased her she felt the full capability of what he could do. Erik didn’t even suck on her clit and tongue fuck her yet. 

“You like it when I do this,” Erik finally sucked on her clit and labia at the same time.

Y/N moaned, hummed, and sighed. She could only make noises. The vocabulary was a second thought. Erik wrapping his lips around her like that had her ready to scream. How could she miss out on something like that? Her clit felt so sensitive between his lips. 

“Answer me, ma, talk to me.” Erik did it again.

Y/N shook her head no with a pout of her bottom lip. 

“We gotta talk to each other, bestie. You don’t wanna talk to me?” Erik spoke with faux sadness.

“E-Erik-Umph!!” Y/N pushed at his head, “Ahhh, my God-“

Keeping her thighs back because Y/N was ready to smash his head like a grape, Erik really showed her just how nasty he could get. Erik used his whole mouth and all its skills to eat the fuck out of her pussy. He wanted his bestie to remember what that mouth could really do. Her arms covered her eyes and her teeth painfully bit into her lower lip. Erik watched her stomach flex. She was ready to fly off that damn couch. 

“Erik, Erik, Erik, Erik, I can’t, Erik,” she whispered, “It feels so good I can’t, Erik. I-Umph!, Erik!”

Erik allowed her to grab hold of his dreads to move his head while he worked his mouth. Whenever she would move his head to the left, he would take care of her there. The same thing for the right, his lips would slurp and kiss whatever he could reach. That middle is what had her moaning and groaning. That’s where she smashed his face into her pussy. His lips sucked her directly over her clit before his tongue rolled out to flick at her entrance. He felt her pussy tighten around the tip of his tongue. 

“Oh my God, ahhhh, Erik, it’s-I’m gonna cum-“

“Mhm, mmm,” He mumbled into her pussy. Erik stuck his tongue out and pushed it as far as it could go into her pussy before he started moving in and out. His tongue was so sharp, wet, smooth, warm, and textured while it fucked her pussy. Her clit didn’t feel left out either because Erik’s thumb would circle it and pluck it. 

“Oh, my goodness, Erik,” She gasped, “Erik shitttt, fuckkkkkkkkk, this is too much-“

Fingers clawing the couch, Y/N threw her head back. She wipes her face to catch the tears. That wouldn’t be the first time she cries tonight. The feeling was extraordinary. As if choking on her breath, Y/N felt her lower belly tighten and a feeling creeps up and over her skin. She knew what this feeling was whenever she rubbed her own clit. Erik reaches out to interlock his fingers with hers while he took care of her, giving his all. She fought to breathe through it all but the second her eyes rolled shut and the muscles in her body tightened it was all over. Y/N erupted into Erik’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around his and she allowed her tears to fall. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” Erik praises her.

“I…” she didn’t even know where to start. 

“You came so much best friend,” Erik was amazed.

“Baby,” Y/N moaned.

“You’re a good girl, cumming in my mouth like that,” Erik soothed her pussy with kisses, “Are you gonna be a good girl for the rest of the night?”

“Uh-huh,” she cleared her throat.

“Because I gotta teach you how to suck Daddy’s dick, okay?” 

“Umph, Erik-“ 

“It’s gonna be really good, look at this Daddy dick best friend.”

Y/N lifted her head to stare at all of Erik again. He was pulsating. His dick was really struggling. Erik was much larger than before. Maybe this was his full capacity. Y/N nervously nibbled on her fingers. 

“It’s okay...it’s okay, best friend...I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.”

Erik stood up in front of Y/N. She moved her body to sit on the edge of the couch. Y/N grabs Erik’s dick, looking up at him with her innocent eyes to wait for his first instruction. 

“Good girl, now, you see Daddy’s tip,” Erik rubs it with his thumb, “suck on Daddy’s tip nice and slow for me.”

Y/N timidly wraps her lips around the head of his dick. She felt the sides of her lips stretch uncomfortably before he finally settled in her mouth. Her tongue flicked the tip to taste his pre-cum. More saliva produced after that. 

“Yeah, Good, now suck on it...don’t rush it.”

Y/N did her best and sucked lightly on Erik’s head. She worked up a slow rhythm to help herself get used to it.

“Tighten them lips, ma...yeah, just like that, good girl.”

She kept her lips snug while sucking gently. Spit drizzled to her bottom lip and fell to her chest. This was going to be a mess.

“Damn, bestie, that little mouth…you ain’t so innocent anymore.”

She was getting used to twirling her tongue around his dick and sucking on his head. Now, she wanted to give the rest of him some attention. Y/N lowered her mouth some more over him. She stopped to accommodate the amount of dick she slobbered on now. Her body jerked a little because she felt like she wanted to gag.

“Be patient,” Erik fisted her hair, “You’ll get there, ma, it’s too much for you right now. Take your time wit’ it...uh-huh, Hmph, yep, that’s what I mean.”

The sounds of her sucking made her sunken cheeks blush. He felt so good in her mouth. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to take the challenge and fit all of him in. 

“Fuck, Y/N, look at you, still tryna’ fit more of me in there? Y/N…breathe through your nose, ma.”

She did, and it worked just a little bit. She wouldn’t be able to speak in the morning. Ten inches of dick trying to fit into her virgin mouth is a lot.

“That’s how you want it, huh?” Erik asked with a breathless voice, “okay...okay.”

Erik took over, moving his hips in and out. Y/N grabbed his thighs, closing her eyes to calm herself so her throat wouldn’t close up. She wanted to challenge herself while sucking dick for the first time. The sounds Erik made while he swiveled his hips made her pussy drip to the floor.

“That’s it, let Daddy fuck this nasty little mouth. I’m gonna turn you into a real freak, best friend. Watch how you end up. Gon’ have you sucking dick and taking dick. You like that, don’t you? Turning into a slut? That sound good?”

She nodded her head with watery eyes.

“I’m gonna train you so well. Before you know it, you’ll be able to swallow this dick just like I like. And for that puss,” Erik reaches down to slap her pussy, “that little motherfucker gon’ know when Daddy in it, have you cumming and cumming fucking with me.”

Mmm,” she whimpered.

“Your jaws are tight,” Erik closed his eyes, “Goddayummm.” 

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. Erik was heavy and thick in her mouth. She tried to be a good girl for him but the second Erik thrust his hips she gagged around him and slipped her mouth off his dick. 

“Shit, come here,” Erik’s eyes were dark, “Nah, your mouth feeling too good right now.”

Y/N shook her head, “Erik, I can’t handle it.”

“You were just handling it,” He was desperate, “What if I went slow? I can go in and out real slow for you, okay?”

“Okay,” Y/N wrapped her lips around him again.

“YES,”  Erik growled, “Let me fuck your mouth nice and slow.”

He went at a measured pace. This also gave Y/N time to admire the faces he made. Scrunching his nose, biting his lip, licking them too. His eyes were no longer a deep brown but more of a piercing black. He looked at her like he wanted to devour her. Not once did he blink. He’s so sexy. So handsome. All that beautiful dick in her mouth. All of this man standing before her ready to turn her out. 

“Guess what?” Erik pulls his dick from her compressed mouth, “I’m this close to cumming,” He put his thumb and pointer finger together to show her how close, “If you let me, bestie, I’ll cum in your mouth.”

“You want me to swallow it?” Y/N asked while staring at Erik jerk his dick.

“Uh-huh...swallow my cum for me?” 

“Yes,” She nodded her head leisurely.

“Good fucking girl, I swear,” Erik rubs the tip of his dick against her lips, “open up.”

Y/N closed her eyes as Erik’s dick went deeper into her mouth. His hands came up to hold her face while he thrust his hips into her mouth. His mouth unhinged and his head went back to stare at the ceiling. She could hear him mumbling something. Probably saying how good it felt. Now, Erik stood still, taking one hand to palm the back of her head, using it to bob her head up and down his dick. Y/N used all the strength she had to accept his rapid pace. He didn’t care about slow and careful anymore, this big dick was about to bust. 

“Fuckkkk, girl fuckkk.”

Y/N took it up a notch and grabbed his balls to squeeze.

“The fuck- Oh SHIT!” 

Y/N’s windpipe gave way to Erik’s dick. She gagged around him.

“ECHHH, ACHHH,” Y/N gurgled. Her eyes widened and blinked when she finally felt Erik’s cum hit the back of her throat. Thick, warm, tangy, it was a new experience. Wanting to get all of him, Y/N gulped him down while jerking his dick to empty him. Erik breathes deeply. She didn’t think it would end with how much it was. 

“Girl, I swear to God,” Erik pulls his dick out, “I bust so much, girl.”

Y/N wipes her mouth, “I know, Daddy.” 

“I’m Daddy,” Erik lifted her from the couch, “That shit felt so damn good, mmm. And you’re my little girl.”

Y/N thought about that. Being Erik’s little girl. And his best friend. 

“We takin’ this shit to the bed, Aight?”

“Okay.”

Y/N covered her chest, walking past Erik with a bashful smile. Erik reaches out to lightly slap her ass. That shit jiggled like a bowl of jello. 

“Take your hands down. What I tell you about that?”

Y/N lowered her hands.

“Go and arch over the bed. Ass up, baby girl.”

He wanted it like that already? Y/N took her time walking to her room. While there, she crawled on the bed, lying flat on her belly. She shivered. Ass up? How would she be able to handle that? 

“I thought I said ass up?” Erik walked in with his dick swinging.

“Umph, okay,” with difficulty, Y/N hiked her ass up and turned her head sideways to face Erik. Erik looked over her body before his eyes connected with hers.

“Now it’s time for lesson number two. I gotta teach you to take some dick in that little pussy. That arch...that arch ain’t good enough, ma.”

Erik walked up behind Y/N, grabbing her hips. His fingers massaged her hips in soothing circles. She closed her eyes. Now, Erik’s large hands were in the middle of her back, pressing down further. Y/N clenched. She never curved her body like that. Her chest was pressed into the mattress. Her ass was really lifted into the air. She shook slightly. 

“This is how you arch. Get that ass up as far as it can go. See? This how you bring that ass north,” Erik slaps her cheeks, making them sting.

“Daddy…,” Y/N spoke weakly, “I-I’m scared.”

“Shhh, cut that out,” Erik rubs her ass cheeks, “Stop doing that. What did I say?”

“You’re gonna take care of me,” She spoke with a small voice.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t lie to you. It’s gonna be your first time, bestie, and my dick is big. Once I'm there, you’ll be feenin’ so good you won’t want me to stop,” Erik leaned forward to kiss her back, “You’ll want me to fuck you anytime and that’s cool cuz I plan on doing that anyway.”

“I trust you.”

“I swear, I promise.”

“I’m ready.” She convinced herself. 

Erik got down on his knees to spread Y/N’s pussy open. She was still very wet but he knew she would need a lot more. 

“Do you have lube?”

“Yes,” Y/N pointed to her dresser, “In there.”

Erik got up to retrieve the lube. He found it hidden between her socks and underwear. Erik walked back over to her, getting down on his knees again. He put his mouth on her pussy again to warm her up to it. Y/N reached back to grab his head. Erik slurped her up all over. She whimpered into the bed. 

“Daddy, I love it when you eat me,” She spoke softly.

Erik went crazy. Now she was getting her pussy eaten from the back. Once he started he couldn’t stop. Y/N made the sexiest noises. Erik’s tongue wiggles everywhere and Y/N’s ass rocked back. She was going to cum each time Erik sucked on her pussy. 

“Ahhhhhhhh!” She shook, “ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!”

Like before, Erik drank her empty. Y/N pulled the covers from her bed. 

“Girl, I’m telling you,” Erik rubbed her pussy, “I’m going to fuck your little ass up.”

“Please,” She begs, “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

Erik takes his fingers, two of them, and slides them inside of Y/N. She instantly gripped him. Erik couldn’t even get his fingers out from her vice grip. He was steady with his fingers. The more he stroked, the more cream spilled from her entrance and trailed down to her clit. When it reached her clit, the fluids dropped to the bed. 

“This pussy can’t stop leaking,” Erik wiggles his fingers deep, “I’m reaching in that pussy, best friend?”

“Yesssss-“

“I gotta stretch you to fit me.”

“Please fuck me.”

“I will-“

“Please?”

“Why do you have to beg me like that?” Erik grunted.

“Because I want you to pop my cherry.”

“Y/N,” Erik slaps her ass, “Say that shit again.”

“I want you to pop my cherry, Daddy-“

“Fuck, you know how bad I want it.”

“Then get it, fuck me like a Daddy is supposed to fuck me.” 

“Ain’t shy no more. You talk like that now?”

“Mhm, please-“

“Bet, I got that ass.”

Erik opened the lube, squeezing some on his fingers. He applied it to his dick until it was fully coated before sinking those same fingers into her pussy again. He didn’t go too deep in her pussy but deep enough for her to feel him. She wanted that cherry popped it was going to be with his dick. Erik stood behind her, taking his dick and bringing it to her pussy. He rubbed it around her clit before placing the head of his dick at her entrance. He looked at her tiny fuck hole and the head of his dick was bigger than that. He would really have to squeeze in there. 

“I’m sorry, baby girl, but you have a little pussy on you and...It’s gonna hurt at first, okay? Don’t be scared, I promise I will make it better.”

Y/N swallowed spit. She was panting like she ran a marathon.

“Y/N?” Erik asked with concern.

“Just do it, Daddy. Will this help?” Y/N reached behind her to spread her pussy lips, “Is that better, Daddy?”

“Yo,” Erik shook his head, “Oh, that’s fucking better alright. Keep that pink puss open just like that and take this big ass dick, okay?” 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good fucking girl,” Erik takes the base of his dick, then at a slow-going pace, he pushes the head of his dick in. It felt like he had already popped her cherry with the way her body jerked and how his head went in. Smooth at first then pop it landed right inside. 

“Are you okay?” Erik looked around to see Y/N’s eyes closed and lips parted. 

She licked her lips before speaking with a hoarse voice, “Yes.”

“Okay, I’m about to put more in,” Erik watched Y/N’s pussy slowly engulfing him while her walls damn near wrung him dry. She was so wet and compressed around his thick pipe. Y/N’s hands let go of her pussy lips to reach for Erik. She had her face smashed into the bed. Erik pulled back to the tip and when he did that, Y/N clenched up and whimpered in pain.

“Ouch,” she cried, “Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

Erik looked down at his dick to see a little bit of blood. He did it. He popped her cherry. Y/N breathed so rapidly that Erik was afraid she was having a panic attack.

“Y/N are you cool? I don’t like the way you’re breathing right now.”

“I-I’ll be okay,” Y/N breathed out of her mouth, “Just...just please keep going.”

It stung, and now her pussy throbbed with pain but it wouldn’t last forever. Erik was stretching her and she wanted more. Under that pain is a tingly sensation inside of her. The reaction to the way he glided in. If that’s what it felt like she needed more of it and now.

“I popped that cherry, ma, you bled out on my dick.”

The sound of that turned her on. He took her virginity. His big dick invaded her purity. She loved it. Loved it a lot. Y/N could tell Erik did too.

“Can I see?” She asked.

Erik walked around her to show her. Covered in cream and her clear fluids with a little bit of blood on the upper shaft of his dick. No wonder she bled out as well. Erik is a big boy. She was surprised that was all that came out of her.

“You like this,” Erik smirked while jerking his dick, rubbing it in, “I like the shit too.”

“I want more,” Y/N reached back to rub her swollen lips, “please, Daddy, I want more.”

She was so excited and nervous at the same time. Erik was behind her again, fixing her arch and adding more lube. She was already so wet but he needed to be sure she would feel comfortable. Satisfied, Erik brought his dick to her entrance again, sinking back inside. Y/N clawed the bed, before turning her head to stare forward. Her toes flexed. She was stuffed full of dick. Finally, Erik had all of him inside of her pussy. 

“Goddamn,” Erik brought his hands up to rub down his face, “Hold still for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Y/N rubbed the bottom of her belly. She felt a lot of pressure there. It was this damn position. 

“Gotta pull out some so I can get back in this pussy. You have me hooked.”

Erik pulled out to the tip of his dick, then bam! He hit her again. Y/N gasped aloud. He repeated it again, his hands on her hips. Y/N could hear her wet pussy covered in lube. After Erik thrust a few times she started getting used to it, arching her back even more and moving her hips. That deep pressure made her eyes roll. 

“I’m fucking this pussy up. You ready?”

“Y-yes-“

“Damn, I’m about to show you some shit, girl.”

Grabbing the sheets, Y/N felt Erik’s hands get tighter. He pulled out again to the tip, then bam! Back in but this time he knocked the wind out of her. Her hands came back to grab his wrists. Erik pulled out...bam! Her eyes popped open. He increased with each stroke until finally, Y/N was experiencing what it felt like to be fucked by a big dick. Doing it nice and slow felt good but doing it fast felt amazing. He made her cheeks clap against him, loud moans escape her mouth, and her legs shake. He brought his hands up to her spine, Y/N’s hands falling to the bed. 

“Nope, that’s not how we arch, girl,” He barked out, “I’m fucking this little pussy don’t play with me.”

“UHHH, UMPH, AHHHH-“ 

“Pussy so tight, give me that pussy,” Erik presses in deep, “still shy, baby? You’re doing so well, such a slut aren’t you? That’s it, keep that pussy open, fuck, you look so cute when you’re struggling, desperate mess.”

“Daddy,” She moaned. Sniffling back tears, Y/N tried to be a good girl but damn he was banging that thing to death. 

“I fucking love hearing you struggle.”

Y/N was crying and drooling.

“Can you take some more?” 

Y/N quickly shook her head no but Erik lifted her ass up more and kept pounding anyway. When he did that, he stroked her G spot. Y/N couldn’t pull away even if she tried, Erik had her arms. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Please! Cum, Daddy! Please cum! I can’t take it!-“

Instead of him cumming, Y/N spasms, her eyes rolled almost to the whites and she leaked all over his dick. It happened so suddenly. She didn’t see it coming to be able to prepare herself for it. Now, her pussy felt overworked. Erik pulled his dick out of her. Y/N fell flat on her stomach while her body quivered. 

“Flip over, baby, I’m not finished with you yet,” Erik strokes his wet hard dick. 

“Daddy...I don’t know if I can take anymore.”

“You can, and you will. Flip over.”

Y/N flips over onto her back. Her curly bush was matted to her head and her face was stained with tears. Erik grabs her thighs, bringing them over his shoulders. When he did that, her pussy lips spread and she could feel it convulse with need even though it was sore and thoroughly fucked. 

“Now you get to see how my dick gets all this pussy.”

“Erik...please be gentle.” 

“I’ll try but I’m not making any promises.”

Y/N was in another dimension. Erik put his dick in and basically said fuck gentle. One clean thrust of all his long dick had Y/N gasping for air. Her hands came up to push into Erik’s chest but there was no use, her arms were like noodles. She looked around the room with wary eyes. He didn’t go too fast and he didn’t go too slow. She found herself staring down at Erik’s dick and the view had her in a trance. She would have never thought that all of him could fit inside of her. Y/N locked her ankles and wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck. She wanted to kiss him. He understood what that meant, bringing his lips to hers and took her breath away. It was sloppy and passionate while he was inside of her. The minute Erik’s hips smacked against hers loudly Y/N broke the kiss to moan. Erik took that opportunity to ruin her further. He sat up on his hands and fucked her just like he was fucking her from the back. Hard and long. 

“Erik! Pleaseee! Just cum, Daddy! Cum! It’s so big and it’s too much!” 

“Whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets, ma-“

“Oh my God-“

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Erik leans down to kiss her throat, “But you gotta stop moving and be a good girl for me, okay?”

Y/N quickly nodded her head. She wanted him to cum badly, that’s how sensitive she is. His dick would drag over her G spot, causing her to tear up. 

“Look at me.” 

Y/N looked up at Erik.

“Go ahead, cum on this Daddy dick.”

She exploded. 

“Good girl, now...let Daddy cum all over you.”

“Please-“

“Can I cum on these big titties?”

“Umph, yes-“

“You gotta say it, Thickums, tell me where you want me to cum?”

“I-I want you to c-cum on my big t-titties.”

“Yes-yes, baby, let me cum on you. Your pussy making me do this. I don’t ever wanna’ catch you giving this good tight pussy to another nigga, understand me?”

“YES!” 

“You’re mine now. Make Daddy happy, baby.”

“Fuck, Daddy,” Y/N let out a sigh when Erik slowed down. His jaw tightened right along with his balls. He was really holding off his cum to feel her more. If she was his and only his, then he would have her pussy anytime. He didn’t need to hold off when he would be cumming again because of her sweet little pussy. 

“Come here,” Erik hooked his hands under her ass, “Come to Daddy, baby.” He said with a gruff tone.

“BABY!!!”

“FUCKKKK! Y/N FUCKKKK!”

Erik slips out dragging his dick up to her breasts and shooting a hefty load over her nipples. He jerked and jerked as Y/N watched ropes and streams of cum shoot out and hit its target. He finally stopped cumming, a long string left over and oozing from his dick. 

“S-suck Daddy dick, baby girl, clean up the m-mess you made,” Erik could barely talk after that big ass nut, “Clean up your fucking mess. All this because of that g-good pussy.”

Y/N wasted no time. She grabbed Erik’s dick up, opened her lips wide, and wrapped her them around him nice and tight. She could taste his cum on the head of his dick and her cum on his shaft. Erik was covered in it all. Y/N didn’t even need to be told to grab Erik’s balls. She squeezed them while sucking his dick. Erik was still iron-hard and ready to fuck. His limitless dick wanted more and more of her. She could tell because of his pitch-black irises. The killer look in his eyes. She popped her mouth off of his dick, a long string of spit hanging from her bottom lip while her innocent eyes cowardly gazed up at him.

“I don’t know what it is right now...but I feel like thumping that ass real good.”

“W-why?!” Y/N clenched her ass cheeks.

“It’s the way you’re looking up at me, girl. I really wanna spank that ass. Make you cry.”

“Erik, no,” Y/N shook her head, “You are too much.” 

“You want it,” Erik smiles at her darkly, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Be polite and ask nicely.” 

Y/N was back to being faint-hearted. This was Killmonger. One taste of Y/N’s pussy and now he was giving her evil looks and commands. 

“Spank me, Daddy?” She spoke with a fearful tone.

“I can’t hear you, baby, what is it that you want?”

“Spank me.”

“Turn that ass over and arch your back.”

Y/N turned over and arched her back again. She flexed her neck to look back at him. 

“That’s how I want you. Look back at me while I pop this big ol’ ass on you, girl.”

“Daddy...what did I do to deserve this?” Y/N was scared stiff.

“Making me cum like that, had a nigga stumbling over his words like you’re in charge. I’m in charge. Hear me?”

“Yes.”

Erik’s hand painfully struck Y/N’s ass without warning, “Good girl.”

She instantly screamed. 

“I’m gonna turn you into my trained little slut, do you fucking hear me?”

“Yes!” THWACK, “YES YES!”

THWACK THWACK THWACK.

“Turn your little ass out, make you a slut for this Daddy dick. This is your dick now, slut, this is what you cumming on, okay?!”

“YESS, pleaseeeee.”

THWACK THWACK. Y/N’s legs shook tremendously. She no longer has pain receptors in her ass. She was going numb to his spanking.

“You like my cum on your tits?” THWACK, “Do you like my nut on your tits?”

“Ughhhh yesssss.” 

“Daddy’s pretty little slut. Not a virgin no more, huh? I took that shit didn’t I?”

“Yesssss,” She cried.

“I popped that cherry and took that tight puss. I made that shit mine, am I right?”

“Daddy, yess,” THWACK, “Oh, gosh, Daddy-“

“Does it scare you that I could do anything to you right now? Like, take that puss again? Fuck that puss and make you scream?”

“Oh, Gosh- OH MY GOODNESS!!!” 

Erik’s dick was in her again.

“DADDY!”

“What’s wrong, baby? Finding it hard to focus?”

“Umph! Umph!”

“Yes, moan like that. Yessss, you sound so fucking sexy.”

“AHHHHHH-“ 

You know what’s good? When someone with nice big hands is making you moan while they fuck you but the second you let out a sound they immediately cover your mouth and tell you to…

“Shut up,” Erik commands. 

That’s what’s good. Y/N’s eyes rolled when Erik’s large hand with his thick fingers covered her mouth like that. Bonus points for him because he clapped that ass from the back while still keeping his hand around her mouth and the other in her hair. Now, he was putting his fingers in her mouth to make her suck on. It still kept her quiet anyway. 

Erik leans forward whispering in Y/N’s ear menacingly, “You’re fucking mines, yeah?” Y/N mumbled against his hand, “you’re a messy slut, I can feel you dripping all over me.” 

“Erik...stop,” she spoke with a muffled tone because of his hand. Y/N was done. She came on his dick again. She was afraid by the end of the night she wouldn’t be able to cum anymore. Y/N was definitely a virgin no more. Now that Erik took that pussy, she would be on his dick whenever he wanted.

“THAT'S it, baby. Feel good doesn’t it? Just needed a little more hm?” 

“A-Ah-ahhhhh,” she moaned with a struggle.

“What is it, angel? That made you feel good?”

Y/N nodded her head with a whine.

“What? Like this?” Erik thrust back in and abused her sweet spot, “You’re so goddamn beautiful. Fuck, I’m gonna cum again, girl!”

Two more thrusts in her pussy had Erik pulling out and cumming on her ass now. His dick jumped against her ass. He didn’t even need to jerk it, his hazy eyes just watched his dick jump and spurt out cum covering her ass cheeks and lower back. Erik finally grabs the base of his dick, rubbing the rest of his cum onto her ass. He stood back watching her body slump into the mattress. He was definitely weak and in need of electrolytes to refuel himself. Erik walked to Y/N’s bathroom to retrieve a warm wet rag to wipe her down. It was late as hell and she needed some rest. He would run a bath for her in the morning. He made it back into the room, sitting down on the bed next to Y/N to clean her pussy, ass, and back. As he wiped her pussy, heavy, drawn-out, gurgling noises came from Y/N.

“Wow,” Erik laughs. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt. Y/N was snoring sleep with her mouth hanging wide open. Erik put her to bed. He flips her over to wipe off her breasts. She grumbled and snorted. He forgot how much of a snorer she was. Erik pulled the covers to her bed back, picking her up and laying her in bed. She automatically curled up into a ball, snuggling her face into her silk pillow and reaching out to grab her large teddy bear almost the size of the bed that Erik got her for her birthday. 

“So fucking adorable.” He flicked off her light, pulling the covers back to lay next to her. He snuggled her close to him, his arm reaching over her bare chest to rest on top of the bear. As soon as he closed his eyes, sleep overtook him as well. 

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[straymackerel]

idk if your requests are open but if they’re not then feel free to ignore this. 😅 id like to request an imagine with dazai having a long, deep conversation with his new co-worker who happens to be a former member of the port mafia but she left for obvious reasons and only fukuzawa knows for now but ofc dazai being dazai, he’s sharp af so he decided to talk to her bc one, he understands her and second he developed feelings for her shortly after she joined ada. thanks in advance! 🥰

➽─{done! they were actually closed, but this was such a fun request i made it 2k long (✿´ ꒳ ` )}─❥

You often wonder if it was something you said.

Ever since you joined the Armed Detective Agency, all of your new coworkers have been nothing short of friendly and accommodating. All of them––except for the bandaged mystery who can’t quite take his eyes off of you.

At first you thought it was just your imagination. When he answered your questions dismissively, you thought maybe he didn’t have a way with words. When he bailed on group trips to Café Uzumaki––but only when you were going too––you brushed it off as a coincidence. And when you first ‘caught’ him fixated on you, looking you square in the face from his own desk, you hoped he was actually looking at something above your head or next to you.

After all, in the Port Mafia, you always felt as if you were being watched, precisely because you were being watched. Your every move was silently documented, your behavior acutely observed within a larger culture of distrust and suspicion. You wondered if maybe you carried that instinctive unease with you to your new day job. (The only proper day job you’ve ever held.)

But there was no need for deft maneuvers to realize that this intimidating brunette was, indeed, staring you down in silence. He has no intention of hiding it; he’s openly tracking your movements, peering into your essence. And the most unnerving part of all: he’s smirking half of the time. If you didn’t know any better, you would confront him the first chance you got; but your situation is precarious, delicate. You have no business drawing attention to yourself, a former member of the Port Mafia. Sure, the President is already aware of your circumstances, but the Mafia has engrained the virtues of secrecy into you. You hope to keep your past on the down low.

Besides, there’s something off about this brown-haired detective. Something you realized at the beginning of your employment, way before he started staring into your soul. Something you hope you’re wrong about.

So you wait it out, anxiously. Drained by the presence of your colleagues, you find yourself in Café Uzumaki alone one slow-moving afternoon. The paperwork was piling up, the tension in the air almost tangible as Dazai declined yet another offer to do actual field-work with the others in favor of keeping tabs on you (unbeknownst to anyone else). You’d left the office at your earliest convenience, hoping to relax in the corner with your favorite beverage.

It is all you can do to keep from spewing the profane as he invites himself to your table, waltzing in without a care in the world. 

You’re trapped.

Ordering himself a double shot espresso, your coworker ignores your apparent apprehension as he gets comfy in his booth seat. Downing his drink while you’ve barely touched yours, he glances behind him to check out the waitstaff. No words are exchanged until the baristas are out of earshot.

“Well, you certainly seem to have a vested interest in me,” you say in the most nonchalant manner manageable––nervous because of his constant surveillance, but also because he’s quite handsome for a borderline stalker.

“You can drop the tight-lipped smile,” Dazai replies, eyes darkened.

You lower your voice, hackles raised. “How much do you know?”

“I suppose it’s all speculation, but my hunches are rarely wrong. You chose to work at a detective agency after all.” Though he’s avoided your question, the look on his face tells you everything you need to know. Eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth upturned, he most definitely has your former occupation pegged.

“What gave it away?” is the only thing you can think to say.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Perhaps it will aid me in playing detective,” you quip. He chuckles dryly.

“Oh, where to start. That concealed weapon you carry––it’s not issued by the Agency. Though its outline is comparable to our standard Beretta 92FS Inox sidearm, there are some subtle differences, even when it’s tucked away and wrapped in cloth.” You raise your eyebrows, surprised that anyone would notice.

“The way you move soundlessly and seamlessly,” he continues, not bothering to pause. “It’s obviously second nature. You hardly make a sound if you can help it. And then there’s your understanding of the underworld, even though you try to hide it. You obviously know much more than you let on; your knowledge is too convenient. You claim to know just the perfect tidbit or two for a case, having overheard a street vendor or a barkeep, but the expression on your face is all too telling of a certain sense of pride. Such a seemingly mild-mannered sweetheart as yourself. Did you know that when you flinch at violence, you always react a hair slower than everyone else, as if you’re simply following suit? Also––”

“Okay, OK, I get it,” you say, defeated. “So that’s the reason why you’re leering at me every day? To add to this never-ending list of yours?”

“Well...” Dazai’s voice trails off. His features relax for the briefest moment, more alarming than reassuring to you. And then that nagging thought resurfaces. That is, the very first thing that came to mind when you were first introduced to him. Again: something you hope you’re wrong about.

“You’re quite suspicious yourself,” you interject. “Let alone your little stalker habit... you have the same name as him.” The corners of his eyes crease. 

“That’s an odd way of putting it,” he says with a hint of mirth in his voice, and not a smidgen of denial. Fuck.

Logic dictates that you should be scared shitless right now, sitting across from one of the most dangerous men in Mafia history. Logic dictates that you should’ve used more covert methods of uncovering his past. Straightening up, you tell yourself not to think about it.

“Well, I was under the impression that Dazai Osamu was only a legend and nothing more. I mean, a teenage orphan prodigy who threw their life as a Mafia exec away, only to disappear forever? Sounds like bullshit,” you state with as much cool-headedness as you can muster.

“I take that personally!” he gasps, twisting his arms every which way in mock offense, as if to shield himself from your harsh commentary. 

“You didn’t consider changing your name?”

“Not even once.” He winks, to which your heart may or may not skip a beat. Are you scared, or oddly enamored?

You push your cup along your side of the table. “How come you turned tail too? You had the status to do literally anything you wanted.” He brushes it off.

“What is this, my interview? The last time I checked, you were the one on trial,” he says, waving his hand like he’s batting your assertion out of the air.

“I’m on trial?” you ask, the cup coming to a stop. “Do the others have suspicions as well?”

“Oh no, nothing in particular to go on. Though Ranpo most definitely has you figured out,” he says, to which you startle. “...but he couldn’t care less, so don’t worry.” You unintentionally sigh relief as he continues: “My colleagues have this peculiar way of testing their new recruits. We call it an ‘entrance exam.’ And before you ask, I’m not responsible for administering yours, but I might be able to push you in the right direction.”

“Any hints?” 

He shakes his head, “Not really. No general tips or tricks. I need some more information,” he says, leaning in a bit. “So tell me about yourself. Why leave the Mafia for the ADA?”

You press your lips together, realizing he’s asking you the very same question he himself dodged moments ago. “I needed a change of atmosphere. And scenery. I wasn’t quite taken up with the constant death threats and daily bloodshed.”

“Oh, death threats? And bloodshed? I don’t suppose you were on the receiving end?” Dazai asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You laugh a restrained laugh, nodding. “I wasn’t. But those kinds of tactics... they aren’t in my nature. Everything about that job was suffocating, and I just couldn’t do it anymore.” Dazai looks at you thoughtfully.

“It’s interesting, though. You carry your past line of work in all of your mannerisms. Any chance you were born into it?”

You nod again, “Not my choice.”

“What a coincidence.” He flashes a toothy smile, silence thickening the air. You scramble to break it, eager to talk about something else.

“...So? Any advice for my test?”

“I’d be a little more forthcoming if only you’d tell me the full truth,” Dazai responds, and your face falls.

“What do you mean?” Your strained voice comes out meeker than you’d like, and it’s Dazai’s turn to sigh. He leans back into his booth seat, as if a little distance might solve your unease.

“I lost someone. The best friend I’ve ever had. He told me I wouldn’t find what I was looking for in the Mafia, so here I am. And I’m pretty sure you have someone like that too.” How does he know? Why is he telling you this? Your hands––they’re clammy. You turn your gaze to your lap, realizing that he’d dismantle anything but the truth. There are no options but one.

“It was... a family member.” More silence. Is your nose getting red? You hope your nose isn’t getting red.

“The Mafia threatened them?” he prods.

“They were collateral,” you say slowly. You hadn’t expected to talk about them today. You hadn’t expected any of this from a coworker who kept you at several arms’ lengths for days. Another coworker might respond “that’s horrible,” or “I’m sorry for your loss,” but not Dazai.

“Dazai, do you ever wonder if it’s our fault they got hurt?”

“No,” he replies immediately. Then he hesitates. “I mean, yes, and for a very long time, but not anymore. Evil will do evil; if not to our loved ones, then to someone else.” 

He’s right. Of course he’s right.

“But does it make it any easier?” You peer at him, hopeful, and he dismisses your expectations with a quick shake of the head. “Right.” Pause. 

“But you’ve come to the right place. Unlike the Mafia, this is an environment where you can heal. Sometimes the wounds reopen,” he says, “but I promise you that your feelings will go towards something productive.” You swallow, blinking back would-be teardrops. The salty marinade seeps back into you.

Then, under your breath: “Okay.” “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I could talk about this all day.” The tightness in your throat dissipates, the water in your eyes no longer threatening to spill.

“So, the entrance exam? I’ve told you everything now,” you pry. He thrums his fingers, amused.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I figured pretty early on that you would be okay. You’re gonna pass just fine without my help––I only wanted to get to know my new coworker better.” His fingers stop as he gauges your response.

“Wha–?” This guy! He played you, straight to the verge of tears..! Shoulder tense, you jump to your feet.

“Sorry to deceive you. I’ll see you upstairs, then.” Jeez, the bandaged bastard’s already heading out!

“Wait!” Cheeks flushed, you’re unsure why you’re calling out to him, but it makes him stops in his tracks.

“...Yes?” 

“...You’re not gonna tell anyone, right?”

“I’ll think about it.” Dazai’s coy voice is all but reassuring.

“No, seriously,” you plead, eyes wide. “I really need this. God forbid someone else prompts a retelling of my life story.” He turns to face you.

“Then let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” 

He steps towards you, leaning in to whisper in your ear: “Meet me in front of this building tomorrow at 10 PM. There’s a restaurant I want to take you.” You feel your mouth open, then close by itself. 

This is it. This is why he can’t look away from you. If he was only observing you, he could, would do it without being so obvious. You’re sure of it now. You replay each once-menacing occurrence of eye contact from the past few days in your head, and you notice something new. Hunger? Want? Even greed? You can see it in his eyes right now. Those eyes, they threaten to dance around, maybe even travel a bit... lower. 

(You jest yourself. ‘Once-menacing?’ He’s still menace, still a danger.) He turns away, heading for the door again, not waiting for a response:

“Don’t be late.”

A chill runs up your spine. It’s a mix of fear, and bitterness, and panic, but most of all... 

A growing anticipation.

[hibiscuswrites]

Jacob Seed NSFW Alphabet

**Sorry babies. I meant to have this up last night and I fell asleep 😕 ** 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s not overly lovey-dovey. He inspects you, makes sure that you’re ok. He can be rough sometimes, and sometimes he gets caught up in the moment and doesn’t recognize his own strength. So he checks you over after, looking for any bruises or bites. He cleans you up, never forgetting to playfully run the washcloth over your clit just a little too roughly so he can see you jump. Once you’re clean, he’s back next to you, tugging you into his side, having you rest your head on his chest or shoulder. He wraps one arm around you, thumb grazing over the skin of your back and arm. He doesn’t talk much other than to make sure you’re ok.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, it sounds odd considering how intense he can be, but he loves your back. Sure, your breasts and ass are easily close favorites, but there’s just something about your back that does him in. The curves and lines, the softness in some parts and the rigidity in others. He loves being able to lean forward when he’s taking you from behind and kiss long your spine when he’s being gentle, or bite marks into your shoulder when he’s not. He runs his fingers gently down your spine when you grind down on top of him softly and he rakes them down leaving angry red lines when you’re riding him like a wild bull. Your back is just his favorite.

On him, it’s hard to pick. Even though your body is different, to him a body is just a machine. Meat with a purpose that needs to serve practically. But now that he has you, his chest is his favorite because it’s your favorite. He sees how your pupils dilate when you look at it, how you trace your fingertips over it when you lay in bed together or even when he’s just standing in front of you. He loves the strength of it, the muscle and how so much power comes from it and that easily makes it his favorite.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

It’s a toss-up between finishing inside of you or on your tummy. There’s just something about seeing himself painted across your skin, the vulgarity of it plus how proudly you wear it. Finishing inside of you is up there too though. Now that he knows you’re completely his, he wants to make it known and putting a baby in you is for sure one way to do it. Granted, it’s the act that gets him off more than the actual prospect of being a father. It really just depends on the day.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s thought about fucking you in Joseph's church once or six times. He just loves the idea of it. He’s extremely hesitant to do it because he’d never want to disrespect Joseph, but the thought is definitely one that gets him going. It’s not too much of a secret though because he whispers it into your ear when he’s leaving the sermons with you.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s got a little. He probably enjoyed his freedom when he finally got away from the Duncan’s and decided to enjoy life both then as a free man and as a soldier. Of course, it likely stopped when he was discharged and found himself homeless and now with all of his responsibility, sex wasn’t something that held importance until you. He likes to explore and find what you like so he can be good for you, and both his stamina and intensity will more than make up for any lack of experience he may have.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Taking you from behind period. Whether its doggy style or prone bone, he loves hovering over you, being in full control, having you submit to him. He loves towering over and calling the shots

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He can be playful and teasing if the moment allows. He’s never overly serious unless it’s a quickie or he’s teaching you a lesson. He likes to tease you, throw in light degradation if you’re into it and heavy degradation if you really love it. He will sometimes chuckle at you, usually when he finds a wet spot on your panties or when he gets you whining and pouting because you’re so needy.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s a mountain man. He will trim up just a little if he knows it’s becoming a red jungle, but it’s always more for your sake really. Enough to not be messy, but still noticeably clear that he’s a man. Ya know, the whole animal thing.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can be romantic when he puts thought into it. He wasn’t given the privilege to experience relationships and intimacy on the levels that John and Joseph were. It takes a bit more work and thought for him and he’s romantic in how own way. Taking you for hikes, taking you hunting, taking you shooting. Those are ways that he bonds with you. Coming home with a deer slung over his shoulders for you to make stew is a romantic gesture in his eyes. He knows he is likely not the most romantic dude ever, but he does try, and he adjusts depending on what he sees does it for you. If he’s really in for the long haul, he’ll do what he has to do to provide you with the intimacy and romance that works for you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s got no problem rubbing one out on his one. He’s a busy man, has a lot on his plate. Not only is he the main protector when it comes to his brothers and Faith, but he’s also in charge of training those who are to protect the Project and that isn’t a job that he takes lightly. Whether Joseph is right or not, whether the collapse is coming or not, he has a job and he’s going to make sure that he does it well. That being said, he’s a man with needs and he doesn’t want those needs to get in the way of serving his purpose. He jacks off whenever he gets hard and you aren’t there, sometimes even when you are. He reserves sex for when he knows he has the time and availability and it isn’t uncommon for him to tell his men not to interrupt him for a little while then the need does strike.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, degradation, breeding kink, use of literal pet names

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He literally doesn’t care. At home? Cool. In his truck? Fine. On the floor in the woods? Alright. On top of his desk? A-Okay. When he wants you, he’ll have you, no matter where you two are. Now of course if that’s something that you aren’t into then he will go somewhere more suitable for you. If he had to pick a favorite, he’d probably go with the kitchen counter. He likes having you bent over, feet dangling, completely at his mercy.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t take much. He’s so into you, always ready for you, he can get hard from your smile. You touching him softly, babying him even if he says he doesn’t like it, seeing you with a gun,

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn’t share you with anyone. He may be ok with someone catching a glimpse when he’s so hot for you he can’t bother to really hide, but over his dead body is another person going to have their hands on you, touching what’s his.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

It's 50/50. Sometimes he loves nothing more than having you on your knees for him, hearing you gag while he thrusts into your mouth, thumb reaching out to brush away a tear. But the others, being in your mouth doesn’t even occur to him because all he wants is to bury his face between your thighs and leave beard burns on the sensitive skin while he tastes you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s usually more rough and fast. Sometimes his pace will be slower, more about working his hips as opposed to pumping straight in and out of you, but the force behind it is often still that rough, deep technique that gets your thighs shaking.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s cool with them. Due to how busy he can be, he likes being able to take you quickly when he doesn’t have much time. Whether it’s you surprising him at the Center for lunch or offering yourself up in the morning before he heads out, he’s more than game to have a quickie. Sometimes, depending on how much of a dick Rook is being that week, he may have a handful of quickies with you just to relieve the stress and anger.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He loves to experiment. He loves trying new things, touching you in new ways, in new places. He’ll take you on his desk in the Center, on the floor in the woods, somewhere in or around John’s ranch just to piss him off. He isn’t nearly as put off by being discovered as the other two. Sure, he would never want someone leering at you and watching outright, but the thought and thrill of being caught do spice things up a little.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Though he may be older, his stamina is still very much that of a younger man. He still keeps in shape, works hard, and knows how to master mind over matter. Being in the sack is the same. He always makes sure to leave you satisfied and since he is a little old fashioned, he always makes you come first. But he has no issues trying to go again if you want. He includes excessive foreplay as well as denial, so encounters last for a good while.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s more of a “what do you need that for when you have me?” kinda dudes, but once he does include one in bed with you, he’s hooked. He loves using a wand on you until you’re begging him to take it away, or stroking himself while he sits in a chair, watching you try your best to satisfy yourself with the toy pretending it’s him. He gets off on it then, loving to include toys because he sees the frustration and how much you wish he was inside of you instead.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

On a scale of 1-10, good old Jake is a solid 13. He loves hearing you beg for him. He’s notorious for making you wait forever to come, only to force orgasm after orgasm from you once he does. He teases you physically and he teases you verbally. It depends on your taste and limits how far his verbal teasing goes. It can be mild and more condescending, “Look how wet you are, pup. Doesn’t take much does it?” to being more degrading and vulgar, “Such a little slut. Can’t even last a few minutes without needing to be stuffed full.” No matter what, he’ll find a way that works so he can tease.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make

His voice is quiet, low rumbles in your ear that makes shivers run down your spine. But his noises are much louder, full growls and deep moans that leave you feeling the vibration of his chest against you. He’s animalistic both in technique and vocalization during sex.

W = Wild Card (Random Headcannon)

He loves when you surprise him at the Veterans Center, perched up on his desk with no panties. You showing up anywhere with no panties is more than welcome but on his desk? Right there on top of his papers? Bare feet resting on his thick thighs while you spread yourself for him? As much as he likes to believe he doesn’t have any, it’s a weakness of his for sure.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

You know damn well he’s packing. He’s god BDE without trying and it isn’t without accuracy. Probably curves up just a little.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His drive isn’t the issue, its more a matter of time. He wishes he had more time and freedom because his drive is still where it was in his 20’s. It doesn’t take much to get him ready for you and not having sex a few times a week is rare. Even when he’s tired and just wants to sleep, he’s rather easy to work up.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It depends. Sometimes he’s out quickly, snoring before you even have settled your breath, while others he lays there forever, sleep evading him. Sometimes he reflects on you and your love and how different but good his life has turned out. On those nights sleep finds him easily. Sometimes his mind returns to the war, and Miller, the beatings he took as a child, and all of the suffering he endured so that he could find his purpose. On those nights, the sun is coming up once again and he’s barely gotten a wink.

FC5 @belle82devart​

General @a-dorky-book-keeper​  @jigsawlover10​  @titty-teetee​ @crushed-pink-petals-writes​ @felicity-x0​ @vibranium-soul​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

wild things in the dark: chapter two

Chapter two is finally here! Basically this chapter is: some backstory, a gratuitous masturbation scene (everything explicit is under the cut!), and some exposition! If you like this, please consider commenting and/or reblogging!

Also on ao3! And a huge thank you to @auriette who beta read this chapter!

Bakugo had known he was ace ever since his first year of junior high.

Ever since he had first hit puberty, shortly after his twelfth birthday, he had known that he was somewhat different than the rest of the extras he had gone to school with. It had just taken him a while to figure out just how exactly he was different.

At first, he had simply thought it was just because he was more mature than most of his classmates. That in and of itself was nothing new, after all.

He had always been praised — by teachers, parents, and other students alike — for being so mature, so advanced. He was always at the top of the class with straight A's, was always the first to finish the books they were assigned to read, always the first to fully grasp new math or science concepts.

Throughout grade school, he had always been lauded for his initiative and dedication to his schoolwork. While most kids were more focused on just having fun and being kids, he had already been working towards his lifelong goal of becoming a Pro Hero.

Things hadn't changed much in junior high.

While all of Bakugo's so-called friends that only hung around him because his Quirk was strong had drooled all over themselves whenever a pretty girl so much as walked by, he was busy thinking about his application to UA in just a few years. When other guys were ogling Pro Heroes and talking about how hot they were, Bakugo was fantasizing about being one.

And yet, despite the vast difference between his interests and those of his friends, it had taken a few months before Bakugo finally realized there was a glaring discrepancy. It had taken another couple of weeks for him to realize that he was supposed to be acting like other guys his age.

He was supposed to be making googly eyes at pretty girls or drooling over cute boys. He was supposed to be acting like a lovesick dumbass thanks to his crazy, out of control hormones.

But he wasn't.

When he looked at other people, male or female or otherwise, he didn't think about them in a sexual way, no matter how aesthetically attractive they were. He never wanted to touch them or kiss them or do anything else like his friends always talked about.

He didn't care about how revealing or skin-tight Pro Heroes' costumes were like his friends did. Why would he when he could use the time and energy to doodle ideas for his own hero costume in the margins of his class notes?

He didn't give a shit about what girl was caught kissing what boy behind the bleachers during gym class. He was too busy absolutely destroying everyone else at dodgeball

He never had any interest in the dirty magazines his friends swiped from their older siblings, the ones they guarded like priceless treasure; never had any desire to watch porn no matter the genre. He just wasn't interested in any of that stuff.

Not that he really wanted to be.

He didn't understand the appeal of kissing or dating or sex, didn't understand what was so great about all of it. And he didn't have any plans to ever do any of it.

That wasn't to say he was repulsed by the idea of sex or physical attraction or intimacy. He was just indifferent to it.

He had more important things to worry about, anyway. Like becoming the number one hero.

But the way his friends reacted when he had told them as much would always haunt him. The memory of his confession was still seared into the back of his mind like a permanent stain he couldn't scrub out.

Because his friends, the ones he thought would accept him, had looked at him like he had just admitted to wanting to be a villain. Had stared at him with a mix of shock and confused disbelief. Because how could he not want to kiss anyone? Or just into bed with anyone? Or watch dirty movies or read nudie magazines or masturbate?

They had looked at him like he was some kind of freak. Like some weird degenerate they couldn't believe was hanging out with them.

So, panicking internally, he had just brushed it off as a joke and never mentioned it again. Not to his friends and definitely not to his parents.

They were already at their wit's end thanks to his literally explosive temper and proclivity for bullying other kids, they already thought of him as somewhat of a disappointment. His mom had never been shy about making that known.

That was bad enough. He didn't think he could handle it if they looked at him the same way his friends had. Like he was defective, broken, some weird twisted thing.

He was going to be the number one hero, All Might's successor, he couldn't be broken. He couldn't.

But he was.

So he tried. He tried not to be broken. Tried to be normal even though everything in him screamed at him not to be, his fiercely independent heart raging inside him like a caged phoenix, willing to burn itself to ash just to be free.

He did everything he could possibly think of in his endeavor to be normal. He looked at the dirty pictures of celebrities his friends sent him, watched porn online like his friends said they did, listened to the tawdry gossip of his classmates about parties and sex.

He did it all. And he hated himself for it.

He was supposed to be cool, was supposed to be above caring what other people thought about him. But just the idea that people were looking at him like he was some kind of freak, looking at him the same way he looked at fucking Deku, filled him with so much unease and anxiety it was hard to bear.

It wasn't until he had his first mandatory sex education class that he learned that he wasn't the only one who felt the way he did; that there was a name for it. A name for him. Asexual.

His teacher had explained that people who were asexual didn't experience sexual attraction. And that simple dictionary definition, though hardly groundbreaking, had felt like an epiphany to Bakugo.

He had listened intently as his teacher had continued on, explaining in more detail what asexuality was exactly. In the process, she described him almost to the letter; from his ability to still feel sexual arousal itself to his existing romantic orientation that was in no way influenced by his lack of sexual attraction.

In the days following, he had devoted a rather decent sizable chunk of time to thinking about the concept of asexuality. He had done a ton of his own research on the matter: reading nearly every online article, scholarly journal, blog post, and dictionary entry he could find; watched videos that either explained asexuality in more detail or provided personal anecdotes from asexual people.

Every little bit of new information just fueled the fire, stoking his conviction into a roaring inferno until he found himself lying in bed for hours mulling it over, mouthing the word 'asexual' to himself just to taste it on his tongue.

Eventually, he had worked his way up to spending an afternoon looking at his reflection in his bathroom mirror as he practiced saying, "I'm asexual", over and over and over again.

Every time he said it, without fail, it felt more and more right. Until it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn't feel like such a freak any longer. Not because of his sexuality, anyway.

Bolstered by the all-consuming feeling of rightness that came with acknowledging himself as an asexual, Bakugo had eagerly rushed downstairs to tell his parents. As much as he fought with them (well, with his mom) he wanted them to be as proud of his little realization as he was.

They had taken it rather well when he was five years old and proudly announced that he liked boys and only boys. Why should this be any different?

Similar to the first time he had come out to his parents, both of them were extremely supportive. In their own ways, of course.

His mom, pausing in the middle of a sip of wine during his announcement, had just accepted it with a nod. After finishing her sip, she had offered a simple, "Okay."

Meanwhile, Bakugo's dad, the incorrigible sap, had stood and pulled him into an awkward hug. Bakugo had been so overwhelmed with relief that he had actually hugged his dad back, burying his face in his dad's shoulder.

Since then, Bakugo had proudly embraced his identity as an asexual. If anyone had a problem with it, it was their fucking issue, not his.

The next time his friends had tried talking to him about something sexual and gross, leering at girls in their uniform skirts, Bakugo had completely shut them down. At their confused comments about him spoiling their fun, he had reminded them that he was asexual, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument while assuring them that if they said anything against it, he would kick their asses into next year.

After all, he thought it was rather fitting, him being ace. It was just another synonym for how fucking awesome he was.

He had lived his life with that mantra for years, never spending another second pretending to be something he wasn't by feigning interest in sex. Which is why things got infinitely more complicated when he hurried back to his room after hero training to jerk off while thinking about Kirishima.

He had never done anything like that before. He had never even considered it.

Yeah, sure, he masturbated from time to time but it was always strictly for stress relief rather than any real kind of sexual gratification. It wasn't something he actively looked forward to or routinely engaged in; it was just something he did to get it over with if he woke up with a hard-on or needed to relieve extra tension.

But after training, as most of their class, Kirishima included, headed straight to the showers to wash up, Bakugo practically bolted back to his room. He was on the verge of being desperate for some kind of physical touch, dick ridiculously hard in his uniform pants.

It was a good thing he wore his pants as baggy and loose as he did. Otherwise, he was certain he would have become the laughing stock of UA.

Miraculously, he managed to not get sidetracked by any damn extras after returning to the dorms once Aizawa and Vlad King excused both classes for the day. Everyone was too exhausted from their practice battles, covered in scrapes and bruises and black eyes, to bother trying to make conversation.

He only paused for a moment at Kirishima's behest, his boyfriend tugging him in close with a hand on the back of his neck and a huge smile on his face. Keeping things brief, he had pressed a quick kiss to Bakugo's cheek.

Though grumbling a bit at the fact that they were in front of the others, Bakugo was too proud of Kirishima for kicking Half and Half's smug ass to deny him the display of affection. It didn't do much to help the situation in his pants but he couldn't say no to such a simple request from his boyfriend.

With most of Kirishima's annoying ass friends also making a beeline to the showers — Dunce Face still sulking about getting his ass thoroughly beat by Ponytail and the weird chick with vines for hair and Tape Arms nursing a bloody nose — the coast was clear for Bakugo to hurry back to his room without raising any eyebrows.

Once in his room, he slammed his door shut behind himself hard enough to make the hinges shake. He double checked to make sure he locked it and then checked it again, just in case.

The last thing he needed was for someone to barge in without knocking.

Base arousal overcoming his intense confusion, he quickly stripped out of his uniform jacket and undershirt, the task easy due to his refusal to wear a tie. Once shirtless, he carelessly tossed his jacket and shirt onto his desk chair.

He only thought to kick off his shoes a moment before he laid down on his bed. Not caring where they ended up, he quickly shucked them off.

He frantically fumbled with his belt, clumsily unbuckling it. He undid his pants just as impatiently, nearly ripping the button off the waistband in his haste, his hands absolutely drenched with sweat.

Cursing under his breath, he wiped his palms on his sheets before yanking his pants and underwear down his thighs. He shoved them both down to his knees, not bothering to actually take them off. He let out a hiss from between grit teeth as the cool air of his room hit his cock.

"Fuck," he breathed, looking down at himself. He was already completely hard, the flushed red head of his cock already wet with precum. Just from looking at Kirishima.

What the fuck was going on? He couldn't help but ask himself that, though he didn't dwell on it for very long.

Instinct and arousal clouding his mind and cutting through his confusion like a knife through butter, he tabled his misgivings for the time being and shifted to get more comfortable. Scooting farther up the bed, he leaned back so he was slightly propped up against his headboard, his pillows cushioning his back and shoulders.

Raising his head a bit, he licked his lips and reached down to wrap a tentative hand around himself. He sighed heavily at the touch, the warmth and tightness of his hand practically a godsend.

He gave a few slow, perfunctory strokes as though testing the waters, the movement of his hand made easy thanks to the precum beading at his slit and the nitroglycerin on his palm.

It didn't feel any different than usual. There was still the same white-hot pool of molten heat in his lower belly, the same tension filling his body.

The only thing that was different was what he was thinking about. Usually, he kept his mind totally clear, focusing on just getting it over with so he could start his day without taking a cold shower or so he could fall asleep quicker. But now all he could think about was Kirishima.

Kirishima and his sweat-slick skin after a long day of training in the hot sun, hair slightly more messy than usual. Kirishima and his toned arms and sculpted abs from all the time he spent working out and training.

Kirishima and his teasing, flirtatious smile whenever he made a dirty joke, waggling his brows cartoonishly to get a laugh out of Bakugo. Kirishima and his distracting lips, so plump and flushed from how often he chewed them throughout the day.

Kirishima and his broad shoulders and his thick thighs and his dark trail of hair beneath his navel and his stupidly defined V-lines and the dimples above his ass Bakugo had glimpsed the day they had gone to the pool.

He thought about Kirishima's big, warm, callused hands, so gentle despite their roughness, so different from Bakugo's. His own hands, though thick-skinned to accommodate his Quirk, were surprisingly soft thanks to the moisturizing side effect of the nitroglycerin they produced.

Continuing to stroke himself, he tightened his grip a touch, still thinking about Kirishima's hands. He wondered how they would feel on his bare skin, wondered how Kirishima would touch him.

He had always preferred quick, hard strokes, only interested in getting it over with. But he had a feeling that Kirishima would do it differently.

Always so doting and eager to please, jumping at the chance to lavish Bakugo with attention and affection whenever he could, Kirishima would probably want to savor every moment. He would probably jerk Bakugo off at a slower pace, take his sweet time making him feel good.

Maybe he would use both hands. Maybe he would experiment a bit by running his thumb over the head.

Bakugo did just that, spreading more precum down his shaft over a thick vein. He had to bite his lip to stifle a moan at the thought of Kirishima's hands on him, stroking him. Of Kirishima's eyes, usually so wide and bright, focused on him, narrowed in concentration as he touched him.

On pure impulse, Bakugo indulged himself and let his thoughts stay fixated on Kirishima. His imagination, usually something he only used for envisioning himself as a Pro Hero or for anticipating his opponents' movements in battle, quickly took over.

As he pumped his hand up and down his shaft, his mind remained focused on what Kirishima would do if he was there with Bakugo instead of downstairs taking a shower. And if that didn't set Bakugo's heart racing impossibly faster.

At just the mere thought of Kirishima in the shower — scrubbing off soot and dust and rinsing product out of his ridiculous hair, miles of tanned skin on full display — Bakugo had to bite his lip even harder to stop a low groan that was trying to tear its way out of his throat.

Kirishima probably looked amazing — hot water sluicing over him and his smooth, soapy skin, steam radiating off him. His hair was probably plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck, down the way Bakugo liked it.

He was probably using his fancy body wash that he only used on the weekends. The cedarwood vanilla body wash; the one he had bought while shopping at the mall with Bakugo, purchasing solely because Bakugo had liked the scent so much. Paired with the natural smell of Kirishima's skin, it was (to use Kirishima's preferred descriptive phrase) the manliest scent Bakugo had ever experienced.

Somewhere in his room, Bakugo had one of Kirishima's oversized t-shirts lying around. He had unashamedly stolen it from his boyfriend to sleep in because it smelled so much like Kirishima and his special body wash.

Bakugo was sorely tempted to find it so he could bury his face in the soft fabric and bask in that wondrous smell. But finding the t-shirt would require him to stop jerking off and that was the last thing he wanted.

Instead, he thought about Kirishima skipping his shower altogether, thought about him there in his bedroom with his limited edition All Might posters on the wall and the soft, gray sheets on his bed. Thought about Kirishima lying next to him with his lazy smile and sleepy eyes and ponytail he sometimes put his hair into after a shower.

He thought about Kirishima gently settling his hands on his waist the way he did when he wanted to surprise Bakugo with a hug from behind but didn't want to receive an explosion to the face for startling him. Thought about the way Kirishima liked to nuzzle the side of his neck when they were watching TV together, Bakugo practically sitting in his lap.

Perfectly imagining the weight and heat of Kirishima's hands on his waist, Bakugo thought about Kirishima letting his hands wander over his skin. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift as he leaned farther back against his pillows.

Still stroking himself with his right hand, he trailed his left hand down his thigh to his knee and back up, all the while imagining it was Kirishima's hand instead of his own. He repeated the motion a few times, just barely letting his fingertips glide over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, drifting close enough to his groin to briefly brush his thumb over the base of his cock.

Continuing his hand's journey upward, he dragged his fingers over the ridges of his abs and up to his chest, briefly wondering what Kirishima would think about his body. If he would like how muscular he was, if he would think that his body was manly. He shivered at both the thought and the delicate touch of his hand, so featherlight it almost tickled.

Trying to think about how exactly Kirishima would touch him, his own body somewhat of an unfamiliar landscape, he curiously dragged his thumb over a nipple. Back immediately arching, he let out a breathy grunt as his eyes flew open, goosebumps erupting over his arms.

Fucking hell. Had his nipples always been that fucking sensitive?

How the hell had he never thought to touch them before? Granted, he usually didn't let his hands wander during the rare instances when he masturbated but still.

He didn't bother worrying about it for very long, shaking his head and willing himself to keep thinking about a certain spiky-haired redhead. Kirishima would probably think to play with Bakugo's nipples.

And not just with his fingers. Those shark teeth had to be good for something.

Forget about Bakugo wanting to lick Kirishima, he wanted his boyfriend's mouth all over him. His mouth and his teeth.

He wanted to feel the bite of Kirishima's teeth on his neck, on his jaw. Wanted to feel his lips on his stomach, his collarbone, his nipples. Wanted all of Kirishima all over him.

It might have been greedy but it was just a fantasy. He was allowed to be selfish in his own masturbatory fantasies, right?

Either way, he let himself think about it. Thought about Kirishima showering his bare skin in open-mouthed kisses, mouth warm and wet the way it was when they kissed.

Fuck, Bakugo thought with a shaky sigh, running his thumb over his nipple, continually swirling it around the hard bud. If his thumb felt that good, he couldn't even imagine what Kirishima's lips, or his tongue, would feel like.

Fighting off a surge of embarrassment, he raised his thumb to his lips, parting them to take the tip into his mouth. He swiped his tongue over the digit, feeling his face flush with a mixture of arousal and self-consciousness.

Once his thumb was nice and wet, he pulled it out of his mouth with a faint pop. Lowering his hand, he dragged his thumb over his nipple again, shivering at the warm, wet glide and the sparks of pleasure it sent rippling through his body.

As his saliva cooled, his nipple tightened even further. It shot a bolt of heat straight to his groin, cock throbbing in his hand.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he pictured Kirishima poised above him, straddling his waist with his mouth on Bakugo's chest. At the thought, Bakugo let out a high, reedy sound that was definitely not a whimper.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to finally coming. It was like he was on the edge of a cliff, just a hair's breadth away from tumbling over.

A light sweat was breaking out over his skin, filling the room with the cloying scent of slightly burnt sugar. Face flushed and thighs starting to quiver, his toes curled in his socks as he quickened his pace.

He dropped his hand from his nipple, moving his arm to fist his hand in his pillow beside his head. Viciously biting his lip so hard he was surprised he didn't draw blood, he fucked up into his hand, hips moving automatically.

It wasn't long after that his breath started coming in ragged pants like he had just run a mile or five, tension shooting through him like a wire that had been pulled taut. Tipping his head back into his pillow as his back arched off the bed, he willingly surrendered to the cresting wave of pleasure that crashed over him, his thoughts nothing more than a mindless repetition of Kirishima, Kirishima, Kirishima...

Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Bakugo fell back onto his bed, the mattress springs squeaking the slightest bit in protest. He took a minute just to catch his breath, chest heaving as his head grew fuzzy, overcome by the rush of endorphins and oxytocin flooding through his veins.

He had never come so hard in his life. Which completely fucked with his head. Because what the fuck?

Okay, yeah sure, he knew that Kirishima was attractive in a purely objective, aesthetic kind of way. From the sharp cut of his jawline to that tiny badass scar on his right eyelid to his effortlessly charming smile and wide eyes, it would be difficult to deny that he was extremely good-looking.

But thinking about him, or anyone at all for that matter, in a sexual manner was a whole new frontier Bakugo had no idea how to navigate.

He and Kirishima had started dating a few months ago, getting together shortly after they had moved into the UA dorms.

After Kamino, they had inevitably grown closer, drawn to one another like magnets the same way they had been during the incident at the USJ and the Calvary Battle during the Sports Festival. Constantly orbiting one another, they had drifted closer and closer until they had collapsed into each other like neutron stars, captivating everyone with their supernova.

With Bakugo having horrible nightmares after his kidnapping and subsequent captivity and Kirishima being unrepentantly protective of him, they had gravitated towards each other for the comfort they could only find in one another. In the wake of them moving into the dorms, they had quickly started a new routine

If Bakugo woke up because of nightmares or anxiety dreams, he would knock on the wall between his room and Kirishima's exactly three times. No matter how late it was, Kirishima would return the knocks to indicate that he was awake and aware of Bakugo's nightmare before waiting for Bakugo to respond.

One knock meant he was fine and would be going back to sleep, while two knocks meant Kirishima was invited over to hang out and help keep Bakugo's mind off the League of Villains and whatever else was preventing him from having a good night's sleep.

On nights when Bakugo knocked twice, still shell-shocked from whatever fucked up nightmares his stupid brain had conjured up, Kirishima would rush over with extra blankets and an armful of sugary snacks for them to gorge themselves on while they watched movies or played video games together.

They would huddle together on Bakugo's bed in their pajamas, swaddled in warm blankets and surrounded by mountains of pillows as they stuffed themselves with hot Cheetos and Kirishima's favorite ice cream. They would stay up for hours, watching campy action movies with horrible acting and cliché dialogue or listening to music Kirishima thought Bakugo would like.

More often than not, they ended up falling asleep on each other, heads resting on one another's shoulders. Bakugo's typical aversion to touch was easily forgotten those nights.

Even more so on the nights when Kirishima would slip his hand into Bakugo's, intertwining their fingers without a word. Those nights, they were quiet, staring at their joined hands as they laid side by side.

Slowly, the nightmares lessened in frequency and yet Bakugo, the pining idiot that he was, continued inviting Kirishima to spend the night in his room. Just so he could spend more time with him.

It was during one of those evenings spent lounging around in Bakugo's room that Kirishima had spontaneously announced he needed to tell Bakugo something. Scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at Bakugo himself, he had uncrossed and re-crossed his legs.

After a full minute of nothing but Kirishima's nervous fidgeting, the redhead had finally admitted that he liked Bakugo; that he liked liked Bakugo.

As Kirishima had visibly tensed in preparation for some sort of rejection or outburst, Bakugo could only gawk at him, beyond shocked. Kirishima liked him? Him?

It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had sunshine boy Kirishima (as Kaminari called him) fallen for an angry, insensitive asshole like him?

Bakugo may have had a rather inflated ego but he wasn't delusional. He knew he was a fucking jackass. For fuck's sake, it wasn't that long ago that he had told Deku to kill himself. What the fuck kind of cruel, heartless piece of shit did that?

But here Kirishima was, confessing that he liked him. It wasn't Bakugo's fault he was so fucking surprised.

It was only when Kirishima, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling, started to stand to flee the room and the deafening silence within it that Bakugo finally snapped back to reality. Abruptly realizing that his silence could easily be mistaken for rejection, he had scrambled to confess that he liked Kirishima, too.

It had been just as awkward as one would expect from two teenage boys, one of whom was notoriously bad with talking about feelings of any kind.

It had taken several weeks after that for them to actually do anything about their miraculously requited feelings and shared an equally awkward first kiss.

They had been studying for a test in their Japanese Literature class in Bakugo's room, reviewing the difference between bathos and pathos so Kirishima wouldn't totally bomb the exam. After going over vocab and different literary devices for hours, Kirishima had pressed his forehead to the surface of Bakugo's desk and whined about needing a study break.

Feeling rather magnanimous, Bakugo had agreed. But he wasn't a fucking pushover so he only agreed to a fifteen minute break.

Despite his concession being pretty measly, it had earned him a radiant smile from Kirishima who had promptly stood and stretched out his arms and legs. A bit sore from sitting for so long in the same position, he had taken the liberty of flopping down on Bakugo's bed with a content sigh, arms spread out wide.

Noticing Bakugo's annoyed side-eye, Kirishima had laughed and patted the spot next to him on the bed in blatant invitation. Bakugo had eagerly accepted the invitation, moving to sit on the bed beside Kirishima.

Sitting up, Kirishima had chewed the inside of his cheek as he looked at Bakugo with a soft smile. Voice little more than a low whisper, he had asked Bakugo if he could kiss him.

Not trusting himself not to say something stupid or unintentionally insulting, Bakugo had just nodded and held his breath, waiting for Kirishima to kiss. And Kirishima did.

But it hadn't been very good.

Neither of them had known which way to tilt their heads which inevitably resulted in them bumping their noses and foreheads together with a loud, dull thunk. Pulling back with an embarrassed laugh, Kirishima had awkwardly apologized and suggested they go back to studying.

Bakugo had reluctantly agreed despite himself. Deep inside him, something fumed at the fact that he was apparently so bad at kissing that Kirishima would rather study than keep kissing him.

Fortunately, they had eventually managed to get past their embarrassment and overwhelming awkwardness and become much better at kissing. Mostly through hours upon hours of hard work, dedication, and tons of practice.

Bakugo never would have imagined that he would ever like kissing as much as he did. So much so, that he and Kirishima had regular makeout sessions after class, usually while lounging on one of their beds, tangled together in a mess of limbs.

It was their favorite way to de-stress after a long day of Aizawa's tactical deceptions and mind-numbing lessons about ethics and whatever the hell it was Present Mic was supposed to be teaching them. So after finishing their homework, almost always at Bakugo's insistence, and grabbing a quick bite to eat, they would retire to one of their rooms to leisurely kiss for a while.

They would spend hours wrapped in each other's embrace, trading long, lingering kisses and private smiles, completely forgetting about the rest of the world. It had been during one of those makeout sessions that Bakugo had told Kirishima that he was ace.

They had been sprawled out together on Kirishima's bed after finishing their advanced calculus homework, Kirishima's hands on Bakugo's shoulders and Bakugo's fingers combing through Kirishima's hair that was surprisingly soft considering how much product he used to style it. Bakugo had been running his blunt nails over Kirishima's scalp, using a gentle grip on his hair to guide his head as they kissed.

Kirishima had smiled against Bakugo's lips, curling his fingers in the fabric of his skull-emblazoned t-shirt. Shifting even closer, Kirishima had let one of his hands wander down Bakugo's side, over his slim waist and down to his hip.

It hadn't been anything out of the usual: Kirishima was a naturally tactile personal. He was always leaning against Bakugo's side during movie nights or reaching out to hold his hand even when they were just walking to lunch or returning to the dorms after class.

Even before they had been dating, he was always throwing an arm around Bakugo's shoulders or poking his side to get a rise out of him.

It had taken a bit of time for Bakugo to get used to it, the only physical affection he had been used to up until then was his dad's embarrassing tendency to hug him or ruffle his hair like he was a little kid. But once he was used to it, he quickly learned to appreciate every touch, to crave it even.

So Kirishima gently running his hand down his side wasn't any cause for concern, wasn't anything out of the norm. Until Kirishima slowly moved his hand lower until he was cupping Bakugo's ass.

Startled by the unexpected touch, Bakugo had immediately reeled back, breaking the kiss to gawp at Kirishima who immediately yanked his hand off Bakugo's ass like he had been burned. Mind racing, Bakugo had grappled with what the hell he could possibly say without ruining everything.

But ultimately, not bothering to be tactful, Bakugo had just blurted, "I'm ace!"

The second the words left his mouth, ridiculously loud in the quiet of Kirishima's room like an explosion in the middle of the night, he regretted them. He wanted to pluck them out of the air and shove them back into his mouth, swallow them down like the bitterest medicine.

But seeing as how he couldn't do that, he was left holding his breath as he stared at Kirishima. He had been frozen solid, fear lancing through him, as he waited for Kirishima to react.

Kirishima, cheeks flushed from their enthusiastic kissing, had nodded and simply responded, "Oh, okay. Cool! Uh, is this too much? Or is making out alright?"

Rolling his eyes, though overwhelmed with relief because of how well Kirishima was handling his confession, Bakugo had scoffed and explained, "It's fine. I'm just not into doing any real sex stuff. I'm not, like, disgusted by it or anything, I just don't have any interest in it."

"Alright, cool. No problem, dude!" Kirishima had answered, thousand watt smile in place as he slung his arm back around Bakugo's waist to reel him back in until their noses brushed. "Just lemme know if I do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?"

Agreeing with a quick nod, not bothering to point out that he could easily kick Kirishima's ass if he tried anything he wasn't comfortable with, Bakugo had leaned back in to kiss Kirishima again. He was so infinitely relieved that Kirishima hadn't dumped him on the spot or laughed in his face or looked at him like he was a fucking crazy person.

That would have hurt him more than anything.

As much as he hated to admit it, he actually gave a shit about what other people thought about him. It was why he always needed to be the strongest, the smartest, the best. Because if he wasn't, why would anyone care about him? Why would they put up with him? Why would they like him?

Because of his sparkling personality? Because of his wonderful sense of humor? Fat fucking chance of that.

But Kirishima did. He liked Bakugo's ambition and his competitiveness and his stubbornness. He never asked him to change who he was, aside from suggesting that he maybe stop threatening to murder Midoriya any time they interacted.

He accepted Bakugo with open arms, without complaint or demand. Accepted every part of him from his weird anal retentive way of organizing the contents of his mini fridge to his crankiness in the morning to his tendency to be especially grouchy and clingy when it was cold.

Instead of being put off by all of it, Kirishima took it all in stride.

He tried his best not to disrupt the painstakingly arranged order in Bakugo's mini fridge; he made Bakugo coffee just how he liked it in the morning to help ease his crankiness; let Bakugo wear his hoodies and hang off him like a koala when it was chilly.

So the thought that Kirishima, who accepted him so wholeheartedly, would be totally put off by his asexuality had been a fear haunting Bakugo for months. He had heard tons of horror stories about people getting dumped by their significant others because of their asexuality, had heard about how disgusted or upset or insulted it had reportedly made their partners.

But Kirishima — sweet, caring, healthily masculine Kirishima — was just as accepting as ever. And he was so informed on all things pertaining to the gay community, that he didn't need to be educated on what asexuality was and wasn't; he already knew.

It took a huge weight off Bakugo's shoulders (how the hell was he supposed to explain what had taken him years to fully understand?) but now a new burden was taking its place.

After years of being convinced he was asexual, of being so confident in his identity, he had just masturbated while fantasizing about his boyfriend after being overwhelmed by intense sexual attraction.

Maybe he really was broken. A fucking freak.

And what the hell would Kirishima say when he found out? Would he think Bakugo had been lying about not being interested in sex? And why? To get out of doing anything sexual with him?

Fuck, would Kirishima be upset with him? Angry at him? Would he get frustrated and break up with him?

With all these thoughts swirling around his head, replacing his post-orgasmic bliss with a maelstrom of anxiety, Bakugo couldn't even comprehend how in the world he was going to tell Kirishima in the first place. How exactly did one tell their boyfriend they were attracted to them?

Rolling over to bury his face in his pillow, he let out a loud, irritated groan, at a complete loss for what to do.

[queeragainsthumanity]

I'd like to say you know who you are but you're too self-involved for it to click

Heres a list of things you do that you should really really stop:

1. Fetishizing queer people

2. Appropriating stories, experiences, and language from queer, poc, and fat people when you are cishet, white, and skinny. Actually just stop making stuff up in general thx

3. Infantilizing queer ppl. I don't want to hear how that trans or gay person is "SUCH A SWEETHEART OMG"

4. Changing the scope of your life narrarive to somehow be queer and outcast-y and how you TOTALLY understand what we go through and you basically have been through the same thing. Ie: not believing in bisexuality but now that it's "in" talking about how you've had bi BEST FRIENDS every year growing up??? (If you knew anything about bisexuality you'd realize it's never "in") or working at a summer camp that catered to all types of children and just because there was a one week long trans and gnc group you say you volunteered at a "trans camp"...UMM?? Just stop editing your stories to seem like you're so active in the lgbtq+ community when ??? You literally have the most problematic views of us?

5. Saying that you give off lesbian pheromones and that every lesbian you encounter is attracted to you and hits on you. And don't make up stories about how a lesbian was aggressively flirting with you at a bar?? First off, ew. Secondly, this is problematic because it capitalizes on the predatory narrative assigned to lesbians by the media and is straight up harmful. You are not a poor innocent straight girl being seduced by the big bad gay tm. Lastly, constantly talking about how lesbians are attracted to you does NOT make you a better ally, does NOT make you fit in better with your queer friends, and is NOT okay.

6. Assigning pronouns without permission. That gender-questioning person you worked with? Who said they wanted to be a man but started crying and didn't like when you used he/him/his pronouns? Did they ASK you to use he/him pronouns? No? Don't. Fucking. Assume. You weren't being a proactive ally, you were being presumptuous and shouldn't have made it about you and how confused YOU were about why it upset them. Because ??? Of course???

7. Forcing items usually considered gendered on trans people of the opposite gender. For example, pushing feminine jewelry etc on a trans guy who was obviously super uncomfortable and was trying to say no thank you in 50 different ways. (You know that chat you were so mad about? One of the things we talked about was how to refuse the gift without hurting YOUR feelings.) Or how you were pushing me to try your new make up when I first came out as gnc and found it really dysphoria inducing and despite saying no several times and our other friend who saw how uncomfortable I was ALSO telling you to stop, you kept PUSHING.

8. You considering yourself an ally doesn't make you one. And being an ally doesn't make you an unfalliable. Be accountable. Ie: when you misgendered me OVER AND OVER AND OVER again and instead of just a short sorry and moving on you prattle on about how long you've known me as a GIRL and how hard it is for YOU etc etc etc EVERY SINGLE TIME. Until it wasn't worth it for me to correct you anymore.

9. Thinking of yourself as some-type-of-queer because you're a girl who is also attracted to trans guys. TRANS GUYS ARE GUYS. IF YOU'RE A GIRL WHO LIKES GUYS YOU, MY ONCE FRIEND, ARE STRAIGHT. Don't put masexual in your bio when A. You are attracted to men only and not anyone else who may fall into the larger scope of masculinity. B. That is a term meant for and coined by nonbinary ppl to use. C. It has been explained to you why you shouldn't use it. And D. You agreed to the reasoning and agreed that you weren't masexual. - I have the screenshots-

10. Saying how EASILY you could pass for a guy if you wanted to and how you could just bind and no one would know and rambling on about it for god knows how long when. 1.you're cis. 2. You know I can't fucking bind for long periods of time if at all since my ribs are so fucked and you talking about how easy it would be for you is dysphoria inducing and just ignorant. 3. Binding is fucking hard. You have never binded a day in your life. Stop lying. 4. Saying you could pass as a guy does not make you trans or queer in any way.

11. Refuse to date a trans guy because you're afraid he'll "use you as a crutch while he transitions" That's both ableist *and* transphobic dear.

12. Using the phrase "fully-transitioned". Especially to gatekeep who is trans and who isn't. Once a trans person comes out they're the gender they say they are. Full stop. All trans ppl are trans. Even if we haven't gone on hormones and haven't gotten any surgery. Even if we never do.

13. Sharing pictures of me and my then new girlfriend in discord and talking about how CLOSE the three of us were. Proximity to queerness doesn't make you so. Also don't share people's business without their explicit permission other ppls interesting stories don't make you more interesting.

14. Trying to buy friendships. Gifts don't make your problematic behavior less problematic or harmful. They don't make your actions more excusable.

15. Equating polyamory to cheating. Like I can't even with how at odds I am with your problematic ish.

16. Making queer the cool new thing to be. You want our rainbow flags and camaraderie and stories. You want to be different and special from the "norm". But that's the only part you want. You want to be a convenience queer, cishet except in safe groups where you want to talk about how different and outstanding you are.

You wear us like a jacket you can put on and take off at your leisure. OUR IDENTITY IS NOT AN ADORNMENT. It is a part of us we carry ALL THE TIME. When our clubs are being shot up, when we are called f*ggots in the street, when we are having our rights taken away, when we are politicised and conceptualized as if we aren't even people, when we don't feel at home in our countries or our bodies, when we are being leered at and asked by too-loud-breathing men if they can join us in bed...

I could keep going forever. I'm still in those chats even if I don't have the spoons to talk to anyone, even though I don't feel welcome anymore. I know your stories. I've seen your lies. I could have jumped in so many times and been like "that never happened" or "actually that's my story and that happened to me" but it didn't seem worth it. You were never cheated on (that was me), you've never had 3 jobs (me), no one asked you to be a nsfw instagrammer (that was my gf planning to be one herself) and on and on and on.

This was supposed to be a vague call out post but I've never been subtle a day in my life. You can't contest any of this. I have the screenshots hun so come at me if you want.

I decided tumblr would be the void I'd scream my outrage into.

Also how dare you make the tragedy of someone losing her father about you. How dare you share details about their lives with strangers when she asked us all to keep it private. And how dare you embellish it with made up details to make you seem more interesting. That was the line.

[cicinicole-14]

14x19–– Beautiful Dreamer [episode review]

can we talk about Grey’s here for a second? I’m gonna review this episode because it’s been a really great episode. I think one of the best we’ve seen in a long time. so lets start off with saying this: I am sorry for how unorganized and choppy this is going to be, I’m apologizing in advance but my brain is going a million miles an hour. ALSO. WARNING::: SPOILERS AHEAD!!! 🚨🚨

first off–– Richard and Ollie

this was so, so sad. this gave me Amelia and Michelle, on PP, parallel feels, how Ollie is much like Amelia’s best friend Michelle and Amelia and Richard both watched their friend die a slow death. I really think and hope this is going to bring Amelia and Richard closer as friends and support systems. this storyline (Richard and Ollie) was very real, heartbreaking and sad. I really liked it even though it was rough.

Arizona

two things here, first; Carina. I just. I don’t like her. it’s half “she’s never going to be callie” and half idk I just don’t like her character. she’s useless and just no. I really don’t like her. and I would really like for her to go back to Italy. like Arizona said, her study there is almost up… also, the comment at the beginning of the ep “I have no kids, thank god” like okay, I get that people don’t always like kids but coming from Arizona, someone who broke up with her girlfriend over children, this just made my heart swell. like carina you don’t say that to the person you’re with if they fucking have kids. thats like almost as close as basic human decency as we get here…and second; Arizona’s idea of the crash cart thing, that was amazing. seriously. “treat every delivery as a trauma” I can’t clap loud enough. this is amazing. I’m so glad she figured something out and she can stop stressing just a little bit. take a breather babes, you’re awesome, you’re a rockstar. [also, another note; I really am dreading JCap leaving and this is sad af, because we only have like what 3 episodes remaining?]

Bello and Deluca

I actually have a lot to say about this and this is where its going to get very unorganized. I love that they’re incorporating real life like this, fucking neurosurgeons in the making, who have been living here their whole lives, facing deportation to a country they don’t know just because of our terrible choice in leaders. I can talk a while about this but I’m not going to. I thoroughly enjoyed Bailey stalling the ICE agent [we will address this later] and how literally the whole hospital was banning together to help Bello out. I genuinely like her and I’m really sad to see her leaving. I loved all the scenarios of running, getting married, Jo telling her how to fake her death with a guy in New York, I actually laughed so hard. like this was so great. this whole storyline. and then when amelia asks Owen to call Megan to help out because her “favorite intern” is going to get deported for rUNNING A FUCKING RED LIGHT. A RED LIGHT PEOPLE. we can’t even put rapists in jail, and you’re exiling an innocent fucking surgeon to a country they spent barely a year in when they were born, because she ran a red fucking light? okay moving on, coco. I loved that amelia said that, it was really cute. and like then Meredith using one of Maggie’s old papers [im assuming] and telling her Sam got accepted in Zurich and is working with Cristina. that was actually so sweet and I can’t. and then poor Andrew. I really loved them as a couple. they are really sweet and I wish we got to know more about their story, but sadly we won’t since Bello left. their goodbye was so adorable and bitter sweet. I hope she comes back one day or Deluca leaves to go be with her, he deserves happiness and an actual storyline like this because Giancomo is kinda getting screwed with Deluca’s character here.

Jaggie…

as @jordan202​ said last week, “jaggie is gaggie” and literally, yes. I was really excited to see Maggie ignoring him, because Jackson can be kinda dickish and like he should’ve told her April kissed him. if you want a relationship to work, be honest. and Jackson should’ve told her from the beginning. now to be honest with you, I skipped every jaggie scene, and caught the little bit at the end. I did want to point out, while I do not support Jaggie at all whatsoever, I find it very sweet Maggie showed up and made the speech and stood up for herself about not telling her because she said Jackson didn’t think he could handle it. go Maggie. and then I gagged again and skipped the scene that followed that… gross.

the interns

okay I love love loveeeee seeing Jo be the chief resident [I mean not like there can be any other chief resident because lets see, mousey died, Stephanie left, ben became a firefighter and where the fuck did Leah disappear to?] anyway, I love seeing Jo be the chief res and then bringing the interns around for rounds and no one letting them into rooms for rounds, that was actually quite funny.

Matthew and Ruby

okay, so I feel bad for Arizona because this was her case, but I empathize with Matthew, and he’s hurting and this is a lot. and I’m glad Owen could be put on this case, tho really fucking weird since he worked as a trauma surgeon in the army I didn’t peg him for a peds stand in, but I know this was just a little veer in his path for his storyline [which we will talk about as well] and I’m really grateful for April here. I know that everyone kinda looked weird at her for leering around Matthew and yeah I get it its weird, but her mother’s intuition was calling, and hey, guess what, it was fucking right. I’m really glad she was able to help and the end scene with her and Matthew was really sweet. it was full circle for them and I really enjoyed that.

lets go with the ICE agent next, and Bailey.

so I thoroughly enjoy that Bailey was at first just trying to stall him as long as possible. great tactic. and then her instincts kicked in and she pretty much saved this man’s life. I think that was really cool. and the scene with Maggie telling Bailey that she’d run all the tests, and then Bailey actually being serious about it. this was really nice. Bailey was being sincere to this man, she was serious because this guy, who is trying to take her intern, she could’ve easily just ignored his symptoms. but she didn’t and telling him, jfc that was great. “I swear to god this isn’t a joke” or whatever. bailey’s being serious, might I even say as serious as a heart attack… [okay, okay, I know, terrible joke I am sorry] anyway, this was really sweet that even though she deemed him as the enemy, she stilled helped save his life because its her job, just like, while he hates it, being an ICE agent is his job.

um what’s next? ou, Catherine.

can I start out saying I’ve never liked her? she’s always fucking shady and untrusting. seriously. and first off, do not go blaming your fucking son for this issue with the neurosurgeon lady. this is your fault. your “oh its nothing” thing with harper Avery and this lady. well yeah, we’re gonna think its nothing if you say it like that, of course Jackson won’t think anything of it and try and fucking fix things, there’s a child’s life at stake. if you weren’t such a shady bitch and were honest with Jackson, y’all won’t be getting into this mess, whatever the fuck it may be. ugh I do not like Catherine at all. Richard deserves better.

um, who else… Owen okay Owen.

so, I am still logically confused why Owen was placed on ruby Taylor’s case… like I mentioned before, he’s trauma not peds, but whatever, I guess if a hospital can have a bomb, shooting, 2 plane crashes, a fire and a billion other things happen, I guess a trauma surgeon can double as a peds one for a day. now, onto why. I’m really actually genuinely excited for Owen to take this step into singlehood and hopefully soon-to-be single fatherhood. I’ve been saying this forever, but give the man a child. he’s very similar to Alex in a way, he doesn’t act very decent with other adults, but in front of children, he’s an angel and its what he really needs. I can’t wait to see what comes of this storyline!

KIMMIE!

okay, wow! this breaks my heart. part of me is like “yes! go to NYC, go sing on broadway, explore the world while you still have the chance” and the other half of me just screams “stay strong just a little longer and stay at GSM for Alex and amelia to fix you, because I know they can”. Alex and kimmie’s dynamic is so sweet and their relationship just kinda melts me [and jo, but we will talk about that next!] I really hope this isnt the end of kimmie’s story. I hope she’s not going to just leave. side note: where did Tom go? is he back in New York? did he go back and I forget? anyway, whatever.

last but not least, the best, jolex.

okay, we got literally the sweetest scene I’ve ever fucking seen. I think I like this more than the proposal. actually, this and the 9x24 “I love you” scene are tied for first because ofc, that was my fave but also this one was. Jo telling Alex that she wants kids with him and wants to wedding plan and get married at joe’s bar and soon and ugh I cannot. and then her telling him she wants his last name because “I’ve never had the last name of anyone who’s loved me before” okay get out. bye. I’m dead. spoiler alert: I’ve been typing this from beyond the grave. this scene fucking melted me into a pile of goo. I cannot. bye!

bonus! 14x20 promo! 

I AM FUCKING DEAD. I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS EPISODE. ABSOLUTELY CANNOT FUCKING WAIT. this looks so goddamn fucking hilarious I literally almost started crying. first of all, Arizona being the innocent lil bean to unknowingly give everyone pot cookies, I’m in tears. then, Alex wearing the fucking whatever that was on his head and “oh yeah, it was so good” pissing myself. also, fuck, was that deluca hugging a bush?!? and Bailey professing her love to Meredith. I can’t I can’t. seriously, I have high expectations for this episode, and I hope it doesn’t disappoint.

end note: no gifs are mine and I’m sorry for not crediting artists, I just pulled these off google. thank you for letting me borrow your work.

[spideyxchelle]

ok idk if its a little too early for a Halloween themed headcanon but maybe,,,,? MJ dresses up as Spiderman for Halloween (to mock him) Peter not ok™

HALLOWEEN SPIDEYCHELLE. high school group costumes are fun, right?? cool. that’s what we get here.

peter isn’t sure how he’s suddenly a senior. like, it seems like yesterday he was a gangly freshman getting pushed and pulled through the halls like a ragdoll to his next class.

but its official. he’s finishing high school. and senior year peter is way different than freshman year peter.

for starters, he has friends that are more than Ned. he’s got Abe and Cindy and Sally and, sometimes, even Flash. and his best friend circle has expanded, too. instead of Peter and Ned its now Peter, Ned AND MJ.

plus he’s a superhero. which, like, as a freshman wasn’t even conceivable. but he is. he’s THE spider-man. no matter what Falcon and Bucky say. spider-MAN. not spider-BOY. man.

and life is good.

so good that he knows he’s got that entitled, cool senior air about him. and cool seniors do halloween hard. meaning group themes.

they all put it to a vote and Ned is in for Star Wars. MJ vetoes it when Flash leers at her and suggests she be the slave Leia of the group. which peter feels REALLY ashamed of himself for being disappointed about. because, well, just the THOUGHT of MJ in that costume is doing something to his teen boy brain.

Sally wants to do Harry Potter. its generic. they could just be their houses. and its still a theme. but Cindy doesn’t want to be mistaken as Cho Chang because she’s asian. and Ned is having an existential crisis about his house and so he can’t commit to Potter.

then, MJ smirks at Peter across the lunch table and says, “how about the Avengers?” Peter’s face pales and Ned, beside him, chokes on his lunch. no one notices their reactions but he KNOWS MJ doesn’t care. that reaction was all for her. and peter wants to veto it. but the whole group seems hella excited.

Cindy is dying to be Black Widow, Sally wants to be Scarlet Witch, Abe is all for Black Panther, Flash wants to be Thor. even Ned is about this group costume. he shyly admits he wants to be the Hulk. and peter knows its because Doctor Banner is the only guy upstate that ever takes the time to talk to Ned. there is a bit of hero worship there.

but Peter is so anti-Avengers for Halloween he can’t stand it. because if anyone upstate gets a hold of these pictures that’s instant humiliation for the next seven years. literally. which is why he assumes MJ suggests it. because only Ned and MJ know about Spider-man things.

everyone turns to Peter and he shrugs lamely, “I could be Iron-Man?” and MJ snorts, “no way, boy scout. you’re all Cap.” and PETER IS OFFENDED BECAUSE EXCUSE YOU MISS JONES, “I-I am not.” Abe laughs into his hand, “yea, you are, Peter.” Peter blushes, “fine. what are YOU gonna be MJ?” she shrugs, “I dunno..probably Iron-Man.”

and god damn it, he hates her sometimes.

only sometimes. most days her smile gets his insides all fucked up. which should probably be evaluated at some point. but he’s knee deep in denial about his feelings for her. so he’s gonna NOT look too closely at that.

and just before the end of the lunch he remembers, “HEY. why didn’t anyone pick spider-man??” Sally tosses her trash, “because he’s not a real Avenger.”

and y i k e s, that stings. because he is a real Avenger. he fought in the Infinity Stone Wars. HE IS. hmph.

after lunch, MJ seems to sense how upset he is, because she kisses his cheek and tells him to, “get over it grump gus.” and wow that kiss works. which is something he doesn’t wanna deal with atm. MJ. and feelings. nuh uh.

the homecoming game comes and goes and peter and his friends decide to go as a group and senior year feels like its in full swing. so he basically forgets about halloween. because he’s got a shit ton of avenging to do (because he’s a real avengrer. hmph.) and homework is also a thing. so is applying to college. why are college apps, so long?

tony likes to hype peter up, tell him that he’s gonna get in MIT, he’s a straight up genius. but prototype dads are supposed to say nice stuff like that.

and then, somehow, its october 29th and peter is SHOOK. because how the hell did it become halloween so fast? he doesn’t have a costume, he doesn’t have anything together. and halloween is on friday and all of his friends are going dressed up to school and he’s gonna be the one guy that lets them all down.

so, he knows its cheating, but he makes a phone call. Steve answers after three rings. his voice is bright, “Peter, hey kid, how can I help ya?” peter swallows, “hey, uh, steve…..i’m gonna…..look, this is….embarrassing….but can I, uh, borrow one of your uniforms?” he tosses all pride out of the window at that question. steve chuckles, “sure. can I ask why?” peter mumbles, “Halloween.” there is a beat of silence before Steve says, “you’re being me?” Peter nods before he realizes Steve can’t see him, “yea…is that…is that okay?” Steve’s voice is raked with emotion, “yep. i’ll have Sam drop it off. he’s gonna be in Manhattan tomorrow.” “NO!” Peter yelps. the LAST thing he needs is the Falcon reading him to filth over whatever he’s gonna make fun of peter about this time. Sam loves to just give it to peter whenever he can. and its embarrassing. he’s easily embarrassed. he takes a deep breath, trying not to be rude and amends his outburst, “no, that’s, uh, that’s fine.”

real talk? its not fine. when Peter opens his door on the 30th and Sam is standing there with a box and a shit eating grin…Peter almost closes the door. but Sam stops it with a foot in the door. “got your dress up order here, parker.” “okay,” peter rolls his eyes, “get it all out now.” Sam smirks and shakes his head, “nah…..i’m gonna wait. you get all twitchy when you don’t know what’s coming.” “i do not,” peter’s voice breaks. “sure you do,” he smiles and shoves the box in peter’s hands. “see ya.”

and peter is thankful it was short. but then it hits him. it is almost worse. now that he doesn’t know when Sam is gonna tease him about it. so much worse.

but he sucks it up and tries on Steve’s suit.

it’s a little baggy in certain areas. and he has to roll the pants up because he’s short, but it’ll work. he just needs a shield. which he fashions out of some scrap medal he had after a mission. its uneven, barely a circle, but he paints it and it’ll work. again, he’s doing the best he can. and there is a sort of thrill knowing this is one of steve’s ACTUAL suits. which, uh, who else on his friend group can say that?

the next morning, he gets dressed, sweeps his hair off to one side, and goes to school. when he arrives all of his friends look about as put together as he does. it’s a SOLID effort. they’re not the real avengers (well, sort of….peter excluded) but for halloween they look rad.

Ned painted his face green and is wearing some tattered old shorts and a ripped shirt and green sneakers. Flash is wearing a velvet red cape and peter doesn’t want to address the amount of bling on his person, nope. cindy is a kickass black widow even if her costume looks like a recycled catwoman suit. Sally’s scarlet witch is borderline cosplay level impressive. he makes a note to show it to wanda. and Abe’s costume is a piecemeal costume like Ned’s. the whole group will make for some fun pictures.

“holy shit…MJ!” Cindy says looking just behind peter. and he realizes he didn’t see MJ. he turns around and his heart freakin’ stops.

she’s spider-man.

no. not only is she spider-man….she’s wearing his old suit. before he upgraded to the iron-spider, his first high-tech suit. the one he keeps in a locked box in his closet. and….it forms to her body like he knows his suit always does. tight and snug for optimal flexibility.

his first thought is…how the hell did she get his suit out of the case? his second is…..holy hell. what a look.

his jaw must be hanging open. actually open. because Flash snorts and comments, “like something you see, parker?” he blindly throws an arm behind him to nudge Flash. he misses and hits Abe. “sorry, man.”

MJ puts her hands on her hips, which, oh man, he’s going to have a heart attack. teenage boys should not be able to see girls they find attractive in spandex suits. nope.

then she smirks at him because she’s not wearing his mask. he supposes if she wore a high tech mask people would ask some questions. the actual suit part of his suit looks innocuous enough. could be store bought. high quality, but store bought. and so her curly hair tumbles out over her shoulders.

and he has a crazy thought. if he reached forward and touched the spider in the center of his suit, it would fall away from her and pool at her knees.

DAMN IT PARKER KEEP IT TOGETHER.

he shakes his head and, thankfully, the bell rings. so their friend group starts to part. peter catches up to MJ and whispers under his breath, “where’d you get that?” “the password shouldn’t be your birthday, loser.” he groans, “what about iron-man?” “why would I spend money on halloween? I had access to an avenger’s suit.” “my suit.” “details.”

he steps in front of her so she’ll stop walking. and he STARES into her eyes. because he won’t look down. no sir. “i want that back, MJ.” she blows a curl out of her eyes and whispers, “you’re gonna have to take it off, then.”

and his eyes BLOW WIDE. he’s broken. his systems are down. he needs IT. the peter parker is absolutely broken. she laughs and walks away while he reboots.

he tries not to stare at her legs all day. and fails. and, uh, holy crap. her legs are so long. and her ass is also great. does that make him not feminist if he thinks so?? he’s not sure. but it is a great ass.

after school, they gather outside of midtown and get some poor freshman to take their group picture. MJ slides in next to peter and throws an arm around him. while everyone gets situated, she whispers in his ear, “does cap know you have that suit, Parker?” he turns his head and she’s so close their noses accidentally brush. he sputters. “uh, yea.” she rolls her eyes and turns her head back to the camera.

they take, like, a hundred pictures. because Flash wants them to take glamour shots, action shots, he also needs his best side represented. it’s a whole mess.

and in the last shot, MJ turns Peter’s face toward hers and kisses him full on the mouth. when the camera snaps….his eyes are HUGE.

but he doesn’t stop kissing her. like, the picture may be done but he sure as hell isn’t. he turns more squarely into her mouth and sweeps her up off of her feet to kiss her better. in front of all of their friends. outside of the high school. in broad daylight.

she laughs against his lips and wraps her legs around his waist.

when all of their friends realize what’s happening. they immediately start groaning. like WTF GUYS?!?

Ned squees. but he’s excited. he’s been waiting for this.

when MJ is contented to be done kissing, she climbs down and wipes the back of her mouth. “really?” she laughs, “the suit is what did it?”

he blushes beat red. “I like it.” and he knows she can tell that he means he likes her in his clothes. but that’s just between them.

the next year at halloween, with her at Harvard and him at MIT, they go out partying in Cambridge as Han Solo and Leia. not slave leia tho. well, ahem, not slave leia in public. what happens later in her dorm room isn’t anybody’s business, frankly.

[demondean-for-kingofhell]

If You Only Knew

Chapter 6: SUSPICION

INFILTRATION || WITNESS || INHIBITIONS || MANIPULATION || EXPANSION “I don’t like her.” Sofia ran a hand through her hair, eyes on Castiel. “She’s hiding something.”

Cas chuckled. “You’re just pissed because when he started seeing her he tossed you out.”

She rolled over onto his naked chest before he could blink. “I am not jealous of her.” Her hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing lightly.

He grinned up at her, eyebrows raised. “Just telling it how it is, Sof.”

“I’m gonna find out what’s up with her. Trust me.” She growled, pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss before sliding off of him and tossing the blanket back.

“I wouldn’t, Sofia.” Cas rolled over in the bed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You know what he said about it the first time you brought it up.”

She rolled her eyes and stood, Cas’ eyes following her naked form until she disappeared into the bathroom. “Doesn’t mean anything!”  She called over the sound of running water. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s kind of wrapped around her finger.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s not the worst thing can could happen to a man.” He laughed to himself and rolled over, intent on getting a few more hours of sleep.

“Y/N, you with me?” Dean waved his hand in front of your face and you jumped, nearly spilling the bowl of popcorn situated between your thighs.

“What? Yeah! I’m here! So here!” You turned to him and smiled. Honestly you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sam’s ever expanding empire. Now he was running both firearms and drugs; and if the DEA didn’t take him down soon, he would take over the trades.

“Babe, you think after three years of working with you I don’t know when you’re checked out?” He leveled a cool gaze at you and slung an arm around your shoulders. You shifted a little, turning your attention back to the TV, which was playing one of the Fast and Furious movies.

“It’s the weapons, thing. I can’t stop thinking about it.” You admitted, shaking your head. “His shipment comes in at the end of next week. If we could just get a team together, a plan or something. This is his first supply from Sergio, it would never point to us, if we cou-”

He put his hand over your mouth, shaking his head. “Just stop, Y/N. Can we please talk about it in the morning? Coffee, doughnuts, rushing out of the door when we inevitably wake up late. It’ll be fun.”

Your protest was muffled as his hand pressed harder over your mouth. “In the morning. I promise.” He waited, and when you didn’t acknowledge him, he gave you a hard stare. “Nod or somethin’. Cuz I can do this all night. It’s kinda nice, actually. Quiet.”

Your lip curled and you managed to get your mouth open enough to sink your teeth into his palm.

“Hey!” He jerked his hand away and you grinned, turning back to the movie. After a few quiet minutes he cleared his throat. “Hey...uh…”

You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You gonna spit it out or what?”

“Would ya shut up for a minute? This is…” He trailed off and blew out a gust of air. “I know we don’t exactly have a regular thing,”

This wasn’t happening. No no no...this couldn’t be happening.

“But if you wanted it to be...then I’m willing to give it a try.”

You couldn’t get a lungful of air; what was happening right now? Dean Smith, notorious womanizer, king of one night stands, and fan of just casual sex was trying to what? Lock it down with you? He had to be joking.

“Dean... this thing with Sam, I don’t-”

“No I know that you and Sam are…” His hands clenched into fists and his eyes closed for a minute. “I know. But when all this is over?” He gazed at you, clear green eyes full of hope.

You blinked a few times, nearly able to see the light leave his eyes the longer it took you to say something.

He plowed on before you were able to get a sentence together. “Honestly? I’m pretty sure he’s the reason for this. I just-I thought about you with him… and it made me angry. So, fucking angry… I just…” His teeth were clenched, his chin tucked to his chest as he took deep breaths. “It just made me realize that I didn’t want to share you with anyone. I don’t want to share you, but it’s too late to send someone else. If anybody can get this done, it’s you. Just- promise you’ll think on it?”

You nodded, leaning in to press your lips to his. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. Sam would literally kill you both if he found out, not even needing to know either of you were DEA.

You felt his hand slide up your shirt, a calloused thumb caressing your bra. “Dean…” you muttered against his lips, grinning when he squeezed your breast gently. You climbed into his lap, letting your lips wander down his scruff covered jaw to his neck, your tongue sliding over his pulse.

He groaned into your ear and you rolled your hips, the cotton shorts you were wearing letting you feel just how much you were affecting him. “Dean…” You were grinding down on him, your breath coming in short pants. “Bedroom?”

“Fuck...no.” his hand slipped into your shorts, rough fingers grazing across your clit and causing a sharp intake of breath from you. Your hands slid down his chest to his jeans, the cotton of his t shirt soft under your palms. He shifted and you found yourself on your back on the couch, staring up at him wide eyed.

Again, Sam crossed your mind, but Dean’s fingers slid through your slick to pump slowly up into you and you moaned loudly, your hips jerking reflexively.

“You’re sure about this?” Cas looked to you one more time before he opened the door to the SUV. His blue eyes held an uncertainty that unnerved you, but you nodded resolutely.

“Even if I wasn’t, Sam told me to tag along. So, here I am.” You rolled your eyes and jumped down from the SUV, adopting your new confident stride you reserved for being in the company of Sam’s thugs.

You could hear Sofia’s heels clicking obnoxiously on the asphalt behind you and barely kept from rolling your eyes. You followed Cas through the parking garage, wishing you weren’t so far underground. “You two keep your goddamn mouths shut, got it?” Cas looked from you to Sofia, pointing at her accusingly. “Especially you.”

“Don’t have a bitch fit, Cas. Just get on with it.” Sofia waved him forward with a flick of her manicured fingernails.

He threw open the door of the stairwell and started down to the lowest level, and your eyes darted to the ramp to see it had been blocked off, and signs that warned of ‘unsteady foundation’ and ‘falling cement’ set up in front of the opening. Well, then.

A group of men waited for your small group at the bottom of the stairwell, scowling and armed to the teeth. They had vans and trucks down here, so it must have been them that put the signs up.

Your stomach was in knots; you wanted to throw up. Instead you marched along behind Cas like Sam would expect you to. 

Like Dean would expect you to. 

Your heart started to beat erratically when you instantly recognized them; several of Sergio’s men. The DEA had been searching, watching. Just waiting for them to set foot on American soil again. And here they were. It made you wish you weren’t undercover.

“I said no extras.” One of the armed men drawled, Russian accent so strong you almost had trouble deciphering his words. Your lip curled and he let his leering gaze linger on you. “You know this compromises the whole deal, Novak.”

“She’s…” he paused, and you knew he was looking for a good way to say that you were the boss’ new bitch. “Important. Let’s just get this over with. I want to go home.”

He eyed all three of you suspiciously, but nodded. Several big black cases were brought forward. These had to be the guns. You hoped Dean and his team were in place to move, and soon. “This is everything he ordered. We expect payment in full.”

“Obviously.” Cas flashed the man a warning glare, clicking his fingers over his shoulder.  “Sophia.”

Your gaze flickered to her as she fished out rolls of cash and tossed them over, the guns being carried up the stairwell to the big SUV the three of you had arrived in. If Dean didn’t move soon the deal would go down and the men would get away. Where was he?

Just as Sophia tossed the last of Sam’s money over there was shouting, the sound of heavy boots filling the parking garage. Between the Russians cursing and shouts of ‘DEA don’t move!’ you were barely able to discern Cas telling you to run, and his hand slipped from your elbow as he took off. You turned to follow and ran right smack into a bulletproof vest, DEA stamped across the front in big yellow letters.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Dean flashed his badge at you, the commotion dying down as the DEA took their prisoners down. There was a sudden pop pop pop and you recognized an AK being fired off. Without thinking you dragged Dean to the ground, but there were more answering shots, and a white hot heat seared across your chest, making you groan.

There was more shooting, but you were only worried about the hands on your chest, trying to find where the bullet had lodged. Dean’s voice was in your ear telling you that it was going to be okay, his hands leaving you momentarily. “This is Agent Smith, DEA. I need a bus to the lowest level of the parking garage. Corner of 65th and Washington! And I need it now! Got a GSW to the chest, victim bleeding heavily. Time is of the essence, here.” He must have called 911.

The gunshots had stopped, the sound of agents reading Miranda rights to the Russians. As far as you could tell Cas and Sophia had gotten away.

“Dean, listen-” you held back the pained whimper that tried to sneak out.

“No, no, no. You’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” he was panicking, you could tell it just by the tremor in his voice.

“Gotta cuff me. Can’t blow my cover,” every word was harder to say than the one before it, but he had to suck it up and haul you in.

He sighed but moved around to your back, cuffing your hands and reading off your rights. The new position of your hands pulled at your bullet wound and you bit down on your lip to hold back a cry of pain as he hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you some medical attention.”

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[sns-tropes]

fic: my heart held in your hands - chapter 2

Chapter 1

summary:   The war is over and Sasuke finally comes home. But Konoha wont let a missing-nin back into their midst without leashing him first. Naruto sticks by his side the whole time.

pairing: sasuke/naruto (ninja!verse) post-698

rating: Mature

word count: 3,571

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, panic attacks, eventual explicit content in later chapters

The inspection is more like an interrogation. Her name is Ayako. She's been a council member for far too long. Her hair is pulled back into a bun so tightly that Naruto thinks it must be hurting her scalp.

Naruto leers in from the kitchen counter, eavesdropping.

Though Sasuke tells her exactly what she wants to hear, he still answers all of her questions with monotonous disinterest.

She can't stand him; that's clear enough.

“You understand that you're walking on very thin ice, I presume.” She says, tone thinned and condescending.

“I'm here because I care for the safety and well being of Konoha. You would do well to acknowledge that as the sole reason for these visits.”

He doesn't answer. Just nods.

Soon enough she leaves, without ever speaking a word to Naruto. When she's finally gone Naruto releases the biggest breath he's ever held.

“Glad that's over.” He says lightly, opting for humor. He wants Sasuke to agree, laugh about it maybe. He knows it's never quite that easy though.

Sasuke doesn't say a word. It's deathly silent. Seconds tick by. Naruto dares to move closer.

Before he can reach the table Sasuke is standing abruptly, and before Naruto can register he's knocking his empty glass off the table in rage to shatter onto the kitchen floor.

“Fuck! Why?! Why did you fucking do that?” Naruto gasps out.

He knows this is hard. He knows that it's the most demeaning thing Sasuke has ever had to put up with. But he couldn't understand how the sudden outburst was supposed to help.

Sasuke rushes past him toward the door before he can ask him again.

“Where are you going?” Naruto pushes, more stressed than he's felt since the war.

“Out.” Sasuke states solidly, slamming the front door behind him.

“Fuck!” Naruto says again, just for the hell of it and grabs the broom.

Sasuke has never had to face humiliation like this is his life. He feels weaker than ever after that. And he's storming down the streets of Konoha with the noon time sun streaming down. He figures he doesn't have much time before Naruto chases after him.

After all that's what Naruto is best at.

His stroll slows as he turns his attention to one of the street vendors. He looks familiar. He must recognize Sasuke because he gives him a soft, knowing smile. It looks a little sad. Sympathetic. It makes Sasuke nauseous.

He's selling kunai. Small kunai. The loops and handles are obviously for a child hands. He remembers his first set. Itachi surprised him.

He practiced for hours on that first day. He could hardly throw them properly, but that only motivated him to continue his relentless and meticulous training.

The memory is bitter now.

He's snapped away from it at the sound of a rough voice rasping out his name loudly.

“How's it going, Uchiha?” Says a voice. He turns to see a former classmate of his with black hair and a crooked smile. He can't remember his name.

Ignoring him is too easy. He turns to walk away.

“Hey don't fucking walk away from me.”

He walks faster.

“Figures.” The guy scoffs, still chasing.. “Traitor and a coward.”

There’s no one around now. Sasuke turns to scowl at him. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I think you're all bark and no bite.” He smiles menacingly. He wants to pick a fight that's clear. There's a part of Sasuke that wants to teach him a lesson. But he knows it's not worth it. He took a walk to cool off, not rile himself up.

He’s alone. Bad move.

Just when he allows his chakra to finally flare free the way it's been begging to, a blonde head of hair is running up and pushing their former classmate to the side effectively shoving him into the stone wall.

“Let's go, Sasuke.” He demands strongly, impatiently.

The boy is groaning as his form slips from the wall, revealing the slight indent in the now cracked stone.

Sasuke looks at him defiantly. It would be easy to go with Naruto and escape the ridicule. Sasuke never does things the easy way.

But he wants easy. For the first time ever in his life, he wants the easy way.

"Come on.” He persists more gently this time.

Sasuke breathes deep, willing his rage to numb down into melancholy. The new feeling of compliance rises up to the surface. Naruto's eyes are kind and waiting.

He goes.

The second the door closes behind them, it’s a fight. Always a fight.

“You don't fucking get it Naruto! I can't do this! Everyone is looking at me like I'm a fucking disease! I'm not gonna stand around and take this!”

"So what?! You're gonna bail again? Just give up?! Sasuke, it's been two days. It's not going to be fixed overnight.”

Sasuke gives a laugh. Not the kind where something is funny. “Fixed? What's to be fixed, the fact that I'm a traitor?”  He spits the boys words back at Naruto. “That I'm such a fuck up? I don't need the standards of Konoha to dictate to me what my life should look like.”

He sits down at the kitchen table and crosses his arms and Naruto doesn't think he's ever heard him say so much in one breath.

"I know." Naruto breathes shakily. He knows Sasuke better than anyone.

Sasuke stares at the tile floor. “I can't Naruto.”

“Are you going to leave?” Naruto asks dejectedly. He's preparing himself for a yes. It’s there looming in the silence between them.

A beat passes. Sasuke puts him arms down to fold his hands in his lap. Naruto follows the movement, hoping it's a sort of surrender.

"I told you I wouldn't.”

He did. But he didn’t promise. I wasn’t anything like that. Not that Naruto needed him to literally promise. The words should have served as a promise in themselves.

“You said. But did you mean it?”

“Don’t fucking play mind games with me, Naruto!” And Sasuke is angry again, just when he’s managed to calm him down. He isn’t trying to mess with him; he just needs a straight answer. Preferably an answer that isn’t going to break his heart. But even Naruto can’t speak rationally sometimes and if there’s anyone that can get a rise out of him, it’s Sasuke.

“Oh please! You are the king of mind games. Don’t try to turn this around like I’m fucking keeping you here against your will when you’re the one who got yourself into this mess!”

He regrets the words immediately. It’s too many compassionless words all in one sentence.

Sasuke stands and scurries to the corner where his small bag of unpacked belongings sits.

“Wha- What are you doing?” Naruto asks, voice shaky.

“I can’t fucking stay here. Sorry, I’m going back on my word.”

And just like that Naruto’s world shatters all over again. He can’t lose him. Not again.

“Sasuke, I’m sorry, Okay!? Can we just talk? Please, normally?!” He’s nearly desperate at this point.

He has his pack settled on his shoulder. “Where is my sword?” He asks Naruto in a strained tone. Like he’s forcing himself to leave here.

The council decided that it would be for the best if Naruto held on to any and all weapons in Sasuke’s possession until further notice. For multiple reasons, but mainly for one big reason. When they expressed their logic behind it to Naruto, it settled a fear in his heart that urged him to comply with their wishes. He hid them away for safe keeping. Not in a particularly obscure hiding place, but he knew Sasuke wouldn’t look for them.

“Where, Naruto?” He asks again, persistent.

Naruto looks at what’s in front of him. Sasuke with his bag slung over his shoulder, ready to leave. He may never come back. And all the times that he stood in place in the middle of a mission, worry settling in him is suddenly rushing back. He remembers how hard it was being so close to him, yet so far away. Knowing he was out there, but not knowing if he was happy or safe. Not knowing if he was still the Sasuke he remembered. Not knowing if he was ever coming back to him.

He suddenly can’t breathe deep enough. His chest feels tight, and eyes damp as he opens his mouth to speak and look at Sasuke’s hardened expression; to tell him nothing but the truth.

“They asked me to Hide them.” He chokes on the last words, voice cracking. “They asked me to put them somewhere safe because hey though you would try to hurt yourself.” The thought is so triggering and he can’t stop the tears from escaping from the corners of his eyes. He can feel himself crumbling, and there’s still not enough air. He places his hand over his heart, feeling there to make sure it won’t somehow beat out of his chest.

He feels dizzy, and he can’t even see straight enough to gage Sasuke’s reaction to the information.

“Naruto.” He barely hears.

His knees hit the tile floor.

“Naruto!” Sasuke yells, dropping his bag and rushing to him on the floor. Sasuke forces his to look up at him, pulling his face up with his only hand. “Naruto, Breathe.”

“I can’t.” He chokes out.

“You can! Look at me and breathe with me.” He touches his forehead to Naruto’s and breathes in deep and loud so Naruto can hear it. “Breathe.” He whispers.

Somehow, finally, he breathes. It’s unsteady and he’s still crying. But the hand carding through his hair is slowly making the shakes subside.

“I’m sorry.” He tells Sasuke. It comes out wobbly.

“I’m not leaving. Just… calm down, okay?” He tells him gently.

He can calm down. He can do that for him.

Minutes pass and Sasuke feels like that Naruto’s reaction was far too worrisome to go unquestioned.

“Does that happen a lot?” He asks.

Naruto looks thoughtful, them slightly embarrassed. “No.” He wipes his nose with his sleeve, looking very child-like. “Sometimes. I don’t know.”

Before Sasuke can think of a proper comfort for the situation, there’s a knock on the door.

Naruto clears his throat. “Who is it?”

The familiar ring of Sakura’s raspy voice speaks from the other side.

They get up off the floor and Sasuke sits at the table while Naruto tries to look occupied at the counter. It was unspoken that they didn’t need her seeing them like that. “Come in!”

The door swings open a little too suddenly and Sakura’s knowing eyes scan the room a little too suspiciously.

Naruto doesn’t look at her, head still turned away. He grabs a couple plates from the cupboard. “Want a sandwich?” He asks whoever is listening.

Sasuke laughs lightly. Only Naruto would be hungry after something like that.

Sakura goes to sit at the table. “No thanks,” she says. “Just wanted to talk to you two. See how you’re healing.”

It’s awkward sitting there with Sasuke in utter silence for such a long time. Because it takes Naruto way longer to make sandwiches with one hand.

He takes three trips. One for each plate.

“I made you one anyway.” He sniffs, sitting down next to Sakura and placing the plate in front of her.

She looks at Naruto’s face. She’s not stupid. She can tell when someone’s been upset of crying. She jumps the gun and turns to Sasuke.

“What did you do?” She asks Sasuke sternly but quietly.

He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t do anything.” He snaps.

She turns her head back to Naruto so fast she could’ve gotten whip lash. “What did he do to you?” She’s angry now.

Naruto sighs out, exhausted from the breakdown. “Sakura, stop. He didn’t do anything.”

“Naruto, If he-”

“He didn’t.” He cuts her off. “Leave it.”

She’s sick of everyone telling her to leave it like she isn’t a part of the team. But she can’t see a viable way to say what she thinks without it ending in a fight of sorts.

She looks at Naruto arm first. His amazing chakra has healed him up faster than most. She doesn’t bother to put a new bandage on once it’s cleaned up. Naruto waves his half-arm around laughing stupidly at how ‘funny’ he looks right before getting up going to the bathroom. Muttering something about how that meat might have been expired.

Sakura and Sasuke look down at their plates grateful they didn’t eat theirs.

She starts on Sasuke’s arm as soon as the bathroom door closes. She moves to touch his arm experimentally and he flinches at the touch.

“Stop.” She whispers. “It’ll only take a moment.”

He forces himself to relax as she slowly peels the bandage from around his arm. She talks as she works. It might be her only chance to get him to listen to her without Naruto around.

“I don’t know what happened but… I don’t want to see him like that. He’s been through enough. And I know you have too, but killing each other isn’t going to fix anything. So just… Go easy on him.”

Sasuke doesn’t answer her.

“Or I’ll fuck you up.” She adds. He only scoffs. But it gets Sakura to smile because it almost sounded like a laugh.

Sasuke hasn’t healed quite as quickly as Naruto has, so she takes out a new bandage for him.

“Just don’t…” It’s hard to decide what she wants to say to him. “Don’t shut me out.”

He turns his head and finally looks at her, eye to eye.

“I know sometimes I don’t understand you two as well as I’d like to. But I’m still your teammate.”

Sasuke feels like she means the words but didn’t really want to say them. There’s a struggle behind them. Her tone is faithless. She’s expecting him to ruin everything all over again.

“He had a panic attack.” He deadpans. He could at least try to confide in her.

She doesn’t seem shocked by the information. “Yeah. He has those.”

“Since when?” He asks like he can’t understand why someone like Naruto could fall victim to something like that.

Sakura laughs bitterly, finishing up and latching the last bit of the bandage to Sasuke’s arm. She closes the first-aid box and stands to leave.

“Since you left.”

“Where’d she go?” Naruto asks.

“She left.” Sasuke shrugs.

He doesn’t think that there’s anything more to question. He figures if they had some kind of issue, Sasuke wouldn’t look at composed as he seemed. So he doesn’t ask about it.

“Does your arm feel better?” He asks Sasuke, opting for lighter conversation.

He shrugs again. “Yours does.”

It does feel better. But he wants Sasuke to feel better too. Maybe more than himself. Naruto guesses that Sasuke reads the disgruntled look on his face with ease, given the way his expression softens into slight amusement.

“Yeah…but.” Naruto starts but doesn’t finish

“I’m fine.” He reassures him.

He huffs out a breath and doesn’t argue.

They’re back in Kakashi’s office. He’s their look in on the council. Because before he’s their puppet, he’s Sasuke and Naruto’s Sensei. Everything is for the good of the village. But they come first, whether he would admit it or not.

“They say you’re quiet and docile, and when you do speak, you tell them everything they want to hear.”

Sasuke feels like he can’t win, because what exactly is he supposed to do in such a situation?

“What did they expect?” He scoffs. “For me to pour my heart out? After they’ve practically chained me down and had this moron hide my sword?”

Naruto winces. He hoped it wouldn’t be brought up again.

“Which by the way, you chose a terrible hiding spot.”

Naruto knows he’s not bluffing. He did choose a terrible spot.

Kakashi interrupts their squabble before it can begin

“They’re not therapists, Sasuke. They couldn’t give a shit what’s in your heart. They want you cooperative.”

“No. They want to control me.”

Kakashi sighs. “Yeah. They do. But just for now.”

Sasuke huffs out a breath and Naruto takes that as his cue to take a break. He announces he has to pee and then scurries out of the office.

Kakashi eyes Sasuke curiously. There's a small smirk there, Sasuke can tell even through the mask.

“What's that look?” Kakashi questions.

“What look?”

“You look like you're worried.”

“What? Are you gonna play therapist?” He knows that Kakashi means well, but this is just not going to work for him.

“You're worried about Naruto.”

“Am not.”

“Sasuke.” He says seriously, banter out the window. “It's okay. It doesn't take a genius to see how much he needs you.”

Sasuke tries something new. He doesn't make fun, and he doesn't argue. And he doesn't belittle. He opens his mouth to speak and can't help the slight uncharacteristic quiver in his voice. “What if… I can't be that for him?”

He doesn't get an answer. Just another question.

“Do you want to be that?” Kakashi questions.

"I..." He starts. He doesn't know. He really can't speak up. Because Naruto makes him very weak. He opens up and shows him love and compassion and understanding. And it's so much, that it's practically painful. Because at the end of the day Sasuke doesn't feel like he deserves it.

Even if he did deserve it… He can't be weak. He can't let Naruto instill that weakness in him.

“I don't think I can.”

Kakashi's expression is hard and unwavering. “I think you're the only one who can.”

He suddenly feels like he can't swallow.

Naruto comes back into the office and his eyes fall on Sasuke right away. The door slams shut behind him, closing off the draft from the hall. Sasuke stares as his hair flips from the push of air. He looks worried.

“Sasuke? What's wrong?” He says curiously.

He wants to make sure Sasuke is okay. Like always. He's always looking out for him.

“Nothing.” He stands. “Let's go.”

Naruto shoots him a questioning look right before waving goodbye to Kakashi.

Sasuke starts feeling more and more trapped as the days pass. He keeps trying to think of way to tell Naruto he wants to leave. But none of them end without breaking his heart.

They're sitting on the dock. Just like when they where little. It's different now. Naruto would always wander over and sit a distance away from Sasuke. Never speaking but silently understanding him.

They're side by side now.

Naruto speaks first.

“I heard you, you know.”

“Heard what?” Sasuke asks, genuinely perplexed.

“In Kakashi's  office.” Naruto leans his shoulder on Sasuke’s, daring him to pull away. “I know you don't want to stay.” He sniffs.

“I know you want to leave. And I think… It's not fair for me to hold you back.”

Sasuke turns to him, bewildered. He always surprises him. He never directly mentioned leaving. But here Naruto was, seeing right through him.

“So if you want to go, you should go. Do whatever it is that you need to do.” His words betray his heart, but it doesn’t make it any less sincere.

Sasuke doesn't know what he needs. Not really. He’s always been so sure of himself. He’s always had a goal. There was always and end result. But now there is nothing. Everything he had set out to do in his life was done, albeit complications. Hell, he even helped save the world along the way.

He thinks that maybe he wants to leave in order to find that purpose again. He’s been misguided and closed off in his life. Too many teachers have tried to tell him how to live. Too many friends have tried to show him compassion, and give him attention that he never wanted. Everyone he’s ever known has never been enough.

“Sasuke?” His attention snaps back up.

Except Naruto. Naruto is like his salvation. It’s frustrating the hell out of him to think about how long it took him to realize that. He curses himself for every time he’s put a knife to Naruto’s throat. He wants to apologize for all those times. He wants to bunch up into Naruto and cry his heart out and tell him how fucking sorry he is.

But he won’t. It hurts too much to have to admit it. He has a feeling deep down in his heart that Naruto knows how sorry he is. He just hopes that feeling is right.

“Sasuke, you’re spacing. Just be honest with me.” Naruto’s eyes are scanning him with worry, waiting for an answer. Any answer.

“I do want to leave.” He isn’t finished but Naruto’s face falls into dejection before he can form the words. “I want to leave, but not for a while.”

He looks up, lip quivering. “A while?”

“I’ll stay a while. I don’t have to go anywhere yet.”

He’ll let the dust settle. Have Konoha trust him again. Work on a few things. Then he’ll go. But not until he’s ready. Not until Naruto is ready.

Sasuke knows that when he finally goes, Naruto won’t follow this time. But He’ll come home to him. It’s the only home he knows.

“But I’ll come back.” He swears. “I’ll always come back.”

Naruto nods. “Okay,” He breathes shakily. “Okay.”

[x-mentalia]

Thank you for your submission, the mods have accepted your application into the ring. Please have your blog ready by 18/03! 

Name: Josephine (Jo)

Country: Venice

Alias (Optional):

Pronouns:any (female appearance)

Age:19

Species (Mutant/Human): Mutant

Group (X-Men/Brotherhood/Civilians/Government):Brotherhood

Appearance (1-2 Paras): 5’6”, dark skin with light brown/amber eyes, shaggy hair about shoulder length, usually barefoot or killer boots, there’s no inbetween. Prefers to wear loose clothes in layers, but nothing that would hinder their movement. Nails are kept short and uniform, everything about them screams ‘fuck off’. Athletic, with some sculpted curves, but not bulky. Would most likely be considered punk in muggle terms. Has a habit of messing with their untamed hair and/or biting their lip.

Face Claim (OCs must answer): Ruby Rose

Personality ( 1-2 Paras with 3 Strengths and 3 Weaknesses ): Jo is a chaotic good, fuck da police kind of person. She has a strong sense of direction when it comes to moral and ethical decisions, head over heart. They’re a pacifist, despite their abrasive demeanor, which is useful in high-stress situations. Despite inner feelings and/or motivations, Jo’s witty sarcasm is annoyingly frequent to the point of obscene. They also distinctly lack a filter when irritated, though that tends to happen once in a blue moon. Jo’s biggest personal obstacle is no self worth, which can make her take on (both physically and emotionally) more than they should.

Backstory (2-3 Paras): Grew up with both of their parents, but hated conforming to norms and having to fit in with everyone. Jo dislikes people who follow the rules blindly, because ignorant is the worst thing a person can be. They’re an only child of an influential family, but despised the pampering her parents gave her early on. She grew up sheltered from anything ‘bad’ happening outside their house, which only made her resolve to make a difference for those less fortunate strengthen. At the age of seven she meet Iliad, a girl from the house down the road, and they became fast friends- with a catch. Jo was a mutant, and Iliad soon became the only person in her life that didn’t make her feel like the freak her parents kept hidden. At the age of sixteen, Josephine was alone again. Because she was a freak, and no one let the monsters have a happy ending. Or so it was before she chose to become more than what people said she could be. Mutant Questions

Ability: Empathetic connections/minor manipulation (can sense feelings, and can change the intensity of more primal ones [lust/love, hate/loathing,etc]

Drawbacks/Limits of the ability:Can only use with permission or if a deeply personal bond (not necessarily romantic) is already in place (can also be extreme hatred for the specific person, such as an abuser to the abusee (essentially non-passive))

Lit Writing Sample: (backstory snapshot) At first, it was dark. Nothing but complete and total emptiness. Voices seemed to ebb and flow like waves in my head. Painful, mind numbing, soul crushing waves. That’s not normal, even for MY standards. I will myself to open my eyes. Blinding, searing white light stuns me for a moment and I screw my eyes shut. Is this some sort of hellish hangover? A moment passes, and I try again. Success! I don’t revel in this victory though. A man, large and imposing, laughs a few feet away from me.

“The girls finally awake, guess we didn’t kill her after all!”

“No, but in a minute you’ll wish you had,” I growl at him.

“Feisty,” another man, not much smaller than the first, comes into view from a door on the right. “Not like that lil brat we grabbed yesterday…”

Involuntarily, my hands clench. Or, at least they would have if the stainless steel restraints hadn’t prevented them. “Where’s Iliad? What did you do to her?” I have to keep my cool, stay calm, keep alert, stay focused…

The first man stands up and leers down at me. I hate that look. A look that bodes ill for the receiver; a look of complete and total loathing. “Iliad,” he spit her name out like bile, “didn’t get anything she didn’t deserve from supporting you freaks.”

“You’re the freak! She was innocent of everything except being a decent person!”

The second man yanks my hair, forcing my neck to be exposed to the other man, and hisses, “Anyone who thinks you monsters deserve to live loses the right to be called human.”

Fuck no. Fuck this. Fuck all of them. I just want Iliad. I have to buy time, that’s the only way I can get out of this. I hate being so useless. Thinking quickly, I reach into the first man’s subconscious. Rage, check. Bloodlust, unsurprising. Hatred, duh… I keep searching for anything, the smallest hope for getting out of this with Iliad.

Fear? That’s… shocking. If they truly saw me as less than human, then fear shouldn’t be there… unless…

“You’re just scared!”

“…what?” How literate, I’m swooning.

“You know I’m better than you! I can see it, this room is just LACED with fear. Gods, it’s a shame I can feed off fear.” pleasetakethebait, pleasetakethebait, pleasetakethebait…

The men shuffle nervously, sharing looks between them. Score!

“Sucks you had to take the one thing I hold closest to my heart. I almost pity you, you guys have NO idea what you’ve gotten yourselves into.”

As I talk, it’s clear they have no experience in this whole ‘hostage situation’ thing. I didn’t need my empathy link to see the uncertainty rising in their faces.

“How about this,” I speak flippantly, hoping my false bravado is enough, “you give me back my one and only friend in this cruel place, and I forget this ever happened.”

The man that was once behind me, now a foot away and to the left, opposite of the door… focus. He has a questioning look on his face, fearful now. Just a little more and I have them sold.

“However, if I find out Iliad is gone…” this time, the threat my tone was real.

Suddenly, the air was tense. I looked at the two, hesitant. It was like a lightswitch. No longer uncertain, they wore similar looks of hate once again. “It’s too late for her, mutt.”

I couldn’t breathe. “…what?”

“Off’d her before you even went looking. Now wha—“

Two gunshots echo in the room, the men dropped dead where they stood.