#I don’t get enough opportunities in real like to gush about these things.

[thekraftcryptid]

I’ve been rereading SYRE like once a week and stumbling across your art was like finding treasure in a desert 😭 What are your favorite chapters/scenes? My favorite scenes that I can’t help but go back to are the snake and the tree and Thatch and Izou talking while Shellie is just bundled in blankets (and the newest chapter because WB PIRATE FOCUSED and the writing and characterization of each of them is just 👌😤)

*we are family, Kiki Palmer blasts in the background*

I’m not joking when I say the first thing I did after reading this story was look up fanart for it, find nothing, and no one talking about it and said:

On god, this fic is watering my crops, feeding my family, clearing my skin, paying my debt, snatching my waistline, and has turned me into an ascended being of pure light. I thank whatever higher power (Dianxia from heaven officials blessing) has ordained that you find that fic, but then my art. I’m glad you like it and I love gushing about how amazing it is, especially how well our host HippieMindy52 writes with such a strong tone and specific characterization that changes depending on who we are following, you get to see each characters thought process, the way they process situations and new information and how they choose to act on it. It’s got me in a death grip tbh.

On god, there is more to come, I’m actually working on a birthday piece for one of my big sisters and her fav Jiujitsu Kaisen character going on that vacation he talked about. Also a piece from my other big sisters star wars fic (her name is deadstarsrising and if you like star wars her work is amazing, we parasite to each other and egg each others ideas on, #codependency)

Anyways, I’m actually planning to do a little mini comic based around the tree scene. (And now burrito Shellie but you didn’t hear that from me)

So far, one of the best scenes for me is actually our #bestdadcaptainhook Cherry when Fossa and Haruta scared the hell outa her, also when she met him and complimented his name when trying to find the kitchen. God those scenes were so good and packed with show don’t tell subtext, which is some of my favorite writing forms ever.

I cannot wait to talk to pirate daddy. On god I just got to him in the anime, I’m on ep 321 I think.

Sorry to ramble about this though, I just love fic writers and wanna give them as much appreciation as possible, bc while we artists get away with so much more on so many fronts. Just, show Mindy some love on god, she deserves it so much and I wish more people were reading it and making art.

[melrodrigo]

Secrets - Cairo Sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: Cairo comes to you after she has her first big heartbreak, but finds something other than comfort.

Warnings: (teeny) underage drinking, Cairo has a lot of mood swings, it eventually ends happy!

A/n: Not sure if I hate this but a cairo fic as promised! enjoy <3

When Cairo told you about her crush on Mr.Miller, you were (rightfully) disgusted. He was at least twice her age, a teacher, and wasn’t even that hot.

You thought maybe it was something silly, a joke if you will, to humor you on a particularly boring school day.

But over the weeks, things changed. It was subtle, but not enough for your keen eye to miss. Something in Cairo’s eyes sparkled, a look you’ve never seen from her before.

She would gush about him after class, and during she would stare at him, blatantly, open with her intentions. It was hard for you to watch.

But the worst thing? He stared back.

Weeks of weird sexual tension and seeing them outside of school, you’d grown more and more sick at the thought that this could be real.

Something people needed to know about Cairo was that she was a dreamer. She might seem realistic on the surface, but secretly, deep deep down, she yearned for that fantasy love she was always writing about.

You could kinda understand the appeal, you guess. An older man, a writer. Still, that didn’t stop it from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

So when she came bursting through your door two weeks later sobbing, you hadn’t known that you would realize there might’ve been something else holding you back from being so supportive of her actions.

The minute you’d opened the door she came rushing into your arms. You wrapped her up, rubbed her back as she calmed down.

“Please don’t cry.” You told her, in a way that Cairo felt wasn’t ignorant but comforting. Like you cared so much about her if she cried it might tear your heart apart. The way you were looking at her in that moment, she couldn’t help herself from wondering if maybe you did care for her as more than friends.

You were certainly the character. Her attractive, sweet, considerate friend. The complete opposite from Winnie. More reserved and a poet at heart. Really, she’d never kissed a girl, but she definitely wouldn’t have a problem kissing you.

Before she knows it, or before she can stop herself, she’s tilting her face up and grabbing your hair towards her. The moment your lips touch it’s fire.

She catches the sight of your surprised face for a second before you close your eyes and surge forward, with more weight than she would’ve expected. A weight that’s not at all unwelcome.

The more the kiss escalates the more she feels like needs more. It’s primal. The pure lust she’s feeling.

Her hands tangle in your hair, yours in hers. She leans in to press her body against yours, desperately seeking more skin-on-skin contact.

You happily let her do so, mind foggy with lust and her and her and her.

“Cairo.” You groan into her mouth, unbelieving that this is really happening.

She gives you no indication that she hears it, only takes that opportunity to slip her tongue in, breathing heavily.

It feels so good, and her scent fills your nostrils. The smell you love so much, something of a mix of pinewood and cinnamon.

But there’s something else- a sour smell that’s so strong it almost burns.

You realize all at once what it is. Alcohol. How you didn’t notice it before on her breath was a wonder. It’s enough to break you out of your trance.

“Cairo.” You say, more forcefully this time, pulling away and pushing her down onto the side of your bed.

She whips her head around, confusion and hurt so clear on her face you feel yourself crumble a little.

“What?” She asks, eyes glazing over. There’s conviction in her tone. You know she gets like this, defensive, when she gets hurt. Your eyes widen at the realization of what you just did.

“Oh- no,no,no. I didn’t mean it like that.” You blubber, trying to fix things before she misunderstands. She stares at you hard, squinting slightly.

“You’re drunk Cairo, you don’t mean any of this.” You say, hoping she’ll come to her senses and agree with you.

Even though this is a dream come true, you don’t want to ruin your friendship for one night of bliss. Not to mention she’s drunk, a good deal so, and it would just leave you feeling dirty.

“I’m drunk but I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. What, you think just cuz i’m intoxicated I’ll fuck anyone?” She hisses, inching closer to you, menacing despite her small frame.

You gulp. “That’s not what I said.”

It comes out in a weak mumble. Cairo rolls her eyes. Her annoyance fires up something in you, and this time you speak stronger.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re drunk, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you want to now, how am I gonna know you won’t regret it later?” You say, watching as Cairo gets so close to you that you’re face to face.

“I’m not going to regret it.” She slurs, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling.

You resist, but she doesn’t care. Her grip tightens until she’s pulling slightly at your hair. You tell her to stop once but it falls on deaf ears.

“Cairo I’m serious. You’re hurting me.” You plead again, and the voice crack that leaves your lips seem to be the thing that brings her back to life. She blinks once, twice, the brown returning back to her doe eyes slowly but surely.

She retracts, pulling her hands back and looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” She says, bottom lip quivering. You stay silent, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n I’m really sorry.” She says again, eyes sorrowful.

The mood swings on this girl, you secretly think.

You take her hand in yours, and look into her eyes. You know she’s telling the truth, you know all her tells. The slight quiver of her eyebrow, the way she plays with the nape of her neck. She means her apology.

You sigh tiredly.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s just talk about this later when you’re sober, alright?” You suggest gently, watching her nod her head carefully.

“How about you sleep on my bed today hm? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want you going home in this state.” You prod, and when she agrees, you move her, softly like you’re handling something that might break at any moment. You settle her onto your bed and under the covers.

“Y/n?” She calls out when you’re fluffing your extra pillows to prepare for your bed on the floor, voice already sounding sleepy. You hum in response.

“Will you sleep next to me? I promise I won’t pull anything again.” And the way she says it, you know you could never be able to deny.

You wordlessly slip in beside her, suddenly rigid with nerves. The feelings you were feeling when she first came in were returning. Could it be that you liked Cairo?

The quiet atmosphere doesn’t help with your swimming thoughts. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep much next to her, you feel a little tingly all around.

A couple minutes pass by and when you’re sure you’ve heard Cairo start snoring, you try and step out the covers, desperate for some relief of your wildly beating heart.

An arm drapes around your body before you can begin to move, and you peer over to see Cairo with half lidded eyes, sleepily telling you not to go.

You had no choice now- how were you to leave? It was like waking up an adorable animal that fell asleep on you.

You scoot your body closer to her so she doesn’t have to reach for you so much, and try to relax.

Not five minutes go by before Cairo pokes your cheek and speaks again, amusement in her tone.

“Your heart is beating very fast.”

[star2fishmeg]

ᴛᴇᴀsɪɴ' ᴍᴇ

[2.5k] Pairing | Takajo Tsukasa x afab!reader Summary | tsukasa just can't keep his hands off his girlfriend for some strange reason. Maybe he just likes her new perfume? Warnings | 18+ smut, swearing, established relationship, mild angst but not really? Reader is just mad, pet names (baby, babygirl), making out, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), semi-public sex, mentions of alcohol Authors Note | yeah I know all my banners are inconsistent sometimes they just don't wanna do as they're told, I'll figure it out eventually. this was supposed to be a short blurb- Request | someone on discord but I forgot who it was I'm sorry 💀

She was getting worried. No, she was concerned. Four hours in and her head started becoming fuzzy, she wasn’t exactly sure how many more tequila shots she could manage until she crashed. Yet, four hours in and her boyfriend was still a no-show.

It was embarrassing really. Gushing about how sweet her boyfriend was, how loyal he was yet all she’d done since the party started was check her phone. How utterly embarrassing. All she wanted was to introduce Tsukasa, her friend’s birthday party being the perfect opportunity but instead, all she had done was repeat the same excuse the whole night. She thought bringing him to see her crowd would bring them closer, not that she hated the Oya High boys, but there was only so much roughhousing and wound patching a woman could take before a favour turned into a chore. And since she’d just graduated, showing Tsukasa what her lifestyle was like was supposed to be a fun bonding activity, to show him what her life was like.

Sliding her phone into her back pocket for the final time, sighing deeply, y/n adjusted her hair and joined in her friend’s conversation, coincidentally, about their relationships. One of her friends, Sai, had recently got into her first serious one, and hearing her fumble about the dos and don’ts and worry about the little things was refreshing in a way. It was a canon event after all. Her other friend, Yoko, had just dumped her boyfriend, in short, he was a cheater. Enough said. She watched their eyes flicker around the room and back towards her as if they were begging for some explanation of her boyfriend’s whereabouts, or if he was even real to begin with.

“So yeah, I’m really hoping he doesn’t dare show his face here, it’s my birthday after all.” Yoko giggled, sipping her drink.

“Speaking of,” Sai looked directly at y/n, raising her eyebrow, and throwing a smirk, “Where’s this Tsukasa we’ve been hearing about? He is coming, right?”

Y/n’s breath shuddered, her face feeling hot as she opened her mouth to speak. What was she supposed to say? She thought he was coming four hours ago, but that never happened. Her heart pounded, palms beginning to sweat, maybe from the heat of the living room or maybe from the pressure, hard to tell.

She swallowed, a nervous smile upon her lips. Opening her mouth to speak, two arms snaked around her waist, lips placing a kiss to her neck and the familiar spiced cologne engulfing her. Y/n’s body melted back into his, heart relaxing and finally a sense of relief washing over her.

“Right here.” She grinned, Tsukasa resting his head on her shoulder and giving her friends a polite smile. Sai and Yoko giggled and began to shower her with questions upon questions, bombarding her with demands to spill details. Meanwhile, his arms hugged her waist tighter, nose diving back into her neck to soak up whatever the captivating fragrance she wore was. He’d never smelt that one before, and he’d spent a lot of time nestled into her shoulder to know what perfume she was wearing by now. But this one? Oh, this was new. This sent hot flushes through his veins, stomach flipping and deeming him a dizzy lovesick fool. Whatever it was, he couldn’t help but press gently kisses to her jaw, down her neck and to her shoulder, shamelessly while y/n’s friends watched with rose-tinted cheeks and side-eyes, half-listening to y/n’s voice sound like a sweet melody to his ears.

He pulled back, resting his chin on her shoulder, his eyes meeting her friends directly, burning through them. Y/n’s lip tugged into a smirk, he may have been late, but he didn’t disappoint in introductions. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t the slightest bit smug that Tsukasa was all over her in the open, bringing her chatterbox friends speechless by his ways. But regardless, all the heat from her body went straight to her core, thighs doing their best to subtly clench together.

Shoving him roughly into the bathroom, y/n kicked the door closed and locked it. She spun on her heel, pressing her finger into Tsukasa’s chest as he backed into the counter, a proud smirk painted on his face while watching her chest rise and fall with every deep breath she took.

“What fucking time do you call this? Do you know how embarrassing it was to stand out there and have people ask where you were? ‘Kasa, you had one job! All I wanted was to bring you to one of my functions with my friends to show you off!” she rambled, holding back the urge to scream at him, but in the privacy of the bathroom where sound bounced off the tiles, she settled for an appropriate volume.

“M’sorry, baby,” his fingers hooked around her belt loops, purely to pull her into his crotch and get a whiff of her fragrance, “Got into an…altercation and wanted to make sure I looked good for you.”

Y/n dropped her finger, sliding both hands around his nape. Her shoulders dropped in defeat, forehead meeting his collarbone. She could bite anyone’s head off for hours if she wanted, but not his. Tsukasa had this sweet smile and soft voice, never angry and never raised at her. Every word dripping in sincerity.

“When I said meet me for eight, I meant eight on the dot. I told you how much this meant, and you still let me down. What the fuck was so much more important? Huh? You’re a dick, I hope you know that.” She spat, still looking at the floor, voice almost muffled by his shirt.

He chuckled with his shit-eating grin, “Quite the attitude you got, baby.” Unhooking his fingers, his hands met firmly with her hips, rubbing small circles with his thumbs and kissing the top of her head.

Y/n raised her head and looked up at him doe-like eyes boring daggers into his, although slightly hazy, glossy from the shots to get her through his absence, “Yeah? What are you ‘gonna do? Fuck it outta me? Couldn’t even come to the party let alone cum in me.”

Both gazes locked onto each other, watching grins drop into straight faces, eyebrows softening to what could only be assumed as brains thinking while music thumped in the background, slightly muffled but either way the buzz of the bathroom fan kept them grounded to where they stood exactly. Y/n fingers carded through the hairs on the nape of his neck, exactly the way he liked it, the way that made his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. A low grumble left his throat at the way she tugged; gaze locked onto him with a fiery passion burning through her. His cock strained in his jeans painfully, his hands sliding from her hips to her ass, cupping them like his prized possession. She dragged her hand from his neck to his cheek with a feathery weight, taking it into her palm and running the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip. So pretty. His brown, puppy eyes almost pleading for something. So pretty her pussy throbbed with how pathetic he looked under the bright light and some horny song playing from the living room. His limbs surged with adrenaline, her perfume shooting its spell into his veins all over again, going straight to his stiff cock.

Tsukasa pulled her closer, chests pressing into each other and cock proudly introducing itself between her legs, “Babygirl, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked.” His voice vibrated low, pleasant on her ears. So much so that sparks flushed through her. He’d never been this horny, not that she’d been around to witness. Did his dick always feel that good against her?

“We’re in public! What if someone hears?” her eyes widened and eyebrows raised, voice lowering into a whisper-yell. There was only so long you could hide in a bathroom until someone wanted their turn, but at least it was clean, and so far, the coast was clear. Tsukasa’s head leant into her palm, taking her thumb between his lips, and giving it a gentle suck, watching the fire glaze across her eyes. Releasing it from his mouth, letting it rest upon his bottom lip again, he smirked.

“So? Didn’t you want to show me off?”

Standing on her toes she pressed her lips to his, melting into each other hungrily. Tsukasa’s hands kneaded her ass, pushing his pelvis into hers and pulling a moan from her throat. Y/n’s hands found their way to his hair, carding through the stands and gently tugging until he could hold back at least a growl. That was his problem, she knew his weak spots and unfortunately having his hair pulled just made it harder to not rip her clothes off.

Pulling away with a shaky breath, he dove into her neck, taking a long sniff of her god-forsaken perfume again before. She tilted her head slightly, one of his hands moving her hair off her shoulder to douse her neck in open-mouthed kisses, savouring the arousal that led his hips to rut into hers.

Y/n whimpers dripped with saccharine with every nip to her skin, her hand sliding down to this cock to grope it over his jeans, yearning to hear the low growl emit from him, the kind that drenched her panties and made the world a little blurry.

“Such a fuckin’ tease.” He grumbled into her skin, detaching himself from her and throwing his head back. Like a hawk, she watched his Adam’s apple bob, straining whimpers bouncing off the walls and through her ears like her favourite song playing on repeat.

Feeling his cock leak with pre-cum, Tsukasa gripped her wrist, pulling her hand off and spinning her around so her back hit the counter. No words left anyone, just the hot breath from their lips and chests heaving into each other’s.

“You smell s’good, baby. Drivin’ me crazy. What y’wearin’?”

 “Pheromones. Bought it for you.”

 “Fuckin’ hell, c’mere” He kissed her again, lapping their tongues in a languid motion with spit forming a layer on their lips. Reaching down to her cargos and undoing the button, he slipped his hand down her panties, fingers finding her throbbing clit and rubbing slow circles. Moans tore through her, pulling out the kiss to lull her head into his shoulder. Tsukasa chuckled into her neck, fingers soothing and listening to his favourite sounds reverberate, soaking in the fact he made her feel that way.

“More, ‘Kasa,” she withered, goosebumps flooding up her arms and hips rocking into his fingers, “need you, please.”

Two fingers dipped into her slick, sliding through her folds, and feeling her nails dig into his shoulders as her pussy begged for the attention. He slowly pumped his digits, curling them until she wailed out his name, letting her squirm in his hold.

“Shit,” he swore, slipping his fingers out swiftly, spinning y/n around to face the mirror and tugging her cargos, “off. Bend over.”

She obeyed, hastily wiggling her bottoms off, panties in pursuit and following his instructions, catching his eyes in the mirror. Tsukasa fumbled with his belt, tugging his jeans down and pulling his cock out, spitting in his palm and giving it a couple of strokes before lining himself up and letting her cunt swallow him.

“Fuck! ‘Kasa,” she whined, hands laying flat on the marble counter, “S’good.”

Firm hands landing on her hips with a bruising grip, Tsukasa bottomed out and slowly rocked into her warm walls and buried his face into the crook of her neck. Y/n’s jaw fell open, adrenaline feeling like electrical surges in her veins and fogging her mind like the mirror in front of her, the one she watched her boyfriend increase his pace. What began as gentle grinding turned to pounding in a matter of seconds, the poor boy barely being able to help himself with the aroma of pheromones intoxicating him. One hand released her hip, fingers finding homage on her clit, stimulating with enough pressure to match the euphoria from his cock pounding into her. Drawing his cock out just to slam it back in harshly, watching her tits bounce, pussy swallowing him with nothing but sheer ecstasy submerging him in a pool of pleasure, he felt like a different person had taken over his body. He never imagined himself fucking his girlfriend senseless in her friend’s bathroom because her perfume got him so undeniably horny, it was like she wanted his attention like that.  

“Doin’ s’well for me, baby.” He panted in her ear, never shying away from letting his vocals known to her. A heat coiled in her stomach, one arm reaching behind her and looping around his head, holding his face into her neck while his arm snaked around her waist, relishing in the way her walls clenched around him as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Tsukasa!” she mewled, grip on reality slipping from her.

“Yes, baby? Say it loud and clear.” He rasped, feeling himself become closer to the edge with the way she chanted his name like a mantra.

“Please, ‘Kasa. M’gonna cum.”

“Me too, baby.” Y/n’s hands slammed against the counter, Tsukasa’s grip on her hips deathly as he slammed his cock into her cunt, lifting one leg on the counter and pushing her further onto the marble and fucking her deeper, groaning himself not only at the sounds that tore through her as he’d ripped an orgasm straight through her but at how she wrapped around him perfectly like a glove. She succumbed entirely to him, writhing under his embrace and completely enamoured by the way he grunted and whined as she soaked his pulsing cock.

He placed a sloppy kiss on her neck, “Such a good girl f’me, that’s it.” He purred, watching her lips quiver and chest pant in the mirror, his muscles relaxing as he released a satisfied groan into the room. His body fell limp, arms wrapping snug around her waist, holding her stable as she brought her leg down to stand on two feet again while thick ropes of cum spilt into her cunt. They stayed like that for a second, catching their breaths, an exhausted giggle filling the silence here and there. Y/n’s eyes diverted to the mirror – steamed up from the heat radiating off their bodies – and wearily pressed her finger to it.

A heart. Gently, she dragged her finger around the condensation to draw a heart around their faces, colouring it in and wiping the fog off. Tsukasa lulled his head from her shoulder, giving a lazy smile upon seeing her drawing. She smiled back. It could have been the adrenaline, or maybe it was straight from her heart but wherever the fuel came from, it made her chest swell seeing him give her a smile that made his eyes crease. He looked so pretty when he was fucked out, even under the blinding light, in a small bathroom where he was still stuffed deep inside her. He may have shown up incredibly late to the party, but deep down she was glad he just turned up eventually, and maybe wearing that pheromone perfume just to show off was worth the money after all.

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, comment or lemme know via ‘chat to me bbygorl’ :D):

@airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @rainisawriter @cheshirecatuniverse @certainbananacollectionblr @tiredlittlewriter

Note - I'm sorry if I missed you, your blog didn't show up! Also my tags are funky rn so apologies if it doesn't notify you!

[Masterlist]

[Requests CLOSED]

2024 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost any of my works. Please let me know if you notice that any of these have been done to my work.

Banners & dividers belong to @/cafekitsune

[modernmanblues]

challenge! write a nice message for each of your fave mutuals! feel free to tag them if you want.

You know, this has been sitting in my inbox for ages. Reason being is that 1) I really don’t like to pick favourites and 2) I wanted this to be meaningful so, seeing that we are heading towards the holidays and for those of us in Yankee land, are currently bathing in the season for showing gratitude, I would like to take this opportunity to show my gratitude to these lovely darlings who have moved me in some form or another (not in any particular order btw):

1. @burn-on-the-flame m’lady, your friendship has meant so much to me since the time we became mutuals. At the time, I was just beginning to relearn the ins and outs of tumblr after being dormant here for so long, but you were one of the people who showed me that it’s ok to vent about everything and anything on here. You’ve made me feel at ease about being myself on here and that has meant a lot to me. Thank you so much for being a great friend, and for always encouraging me to just be myself on tumblr. I love you so much, Mrs. Tucker!!

2. @freezerfreys also an OG fave of mine!! my dear your fashion, your musical talents, your charisma, your charm and the way you’re so confident in your own skin. Forgive me for saying this but I feel like I’ve just described all the attributes that attracted me to Eric Stewart from the very beginning but all that aside, those are also the reasons that keep me drawn to you as your mutual. Your genuineness, the way you keep it real on here, I love it all. I aspire to be you, my dear lady frey. You are a literal boss lady, I hope to be one the first to get an autographed copy of your first worldwide hit single!

3. @clockworkfairy thank you so much for the many times you have checked in on me. You have shone a light in times when I saw nothing but darkness on here. It’s so comforting to find people like you that restore a special kind of equilibrium in people’s lives. It’s what you’ve done to me, and I can’t thank you enough for all the times you’ve brought sunshine into my life when there was rain

4. @faeriejones you are an absolute sweetheart and I feel lucky to have crossed paths with you. Your warmth, kindness and very loving personality are so refreshing to see especially with how ruthless social media can be at times. Amber, with how little we’ve interacted, I still cherish the moments we have had to bond over common interests and gush over them! We need more of those type of interactions in the world. Pure fun, you know what I mean? You’re the kind of person I would frolick in a field of tulips with and have a laugh about it at the end. Thank you for being such a great friend, and for always being so thoughtful. It’s not much, but to me the effect is massive 💗

5. @channel-swimmer Loller!! I think you of all people on here probably know me best being friends with me on ig. If it’s one thing I’d like for you to take away from my ig stories it’s that I deliver the same fun and jovial energy irl as I do here on tumblr. I must admit I have way too much irl than I do on social media, and that’s the way it should be but anyway I digress. I am still so very happy to have found someone who is as passionate and charmed by 10cc as I am. I’m also grateful to be getting feedback from you on my fic Chances I do appreciate all that. You’re an epic bass player and before you I bow down, sir. I am not worthy!

6. @starrybluez Secret Rocker Santa 2023 brought me to you and it’s the reason I joined a second year of it so for that, I am so very grateful to you. Thank you for staying in touch with me and for all the great laughs (may I remind you of our Marc Bolan/Ringo Starr stint). Anyway, your brilliant Dee and I hope we get to share many more great laughs.

7. @lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar I love the way you are with Russ, because you remind me of how I am with Eric. Like, WE ARE THE EXACT SAME. Like when you mention that you keep track of Russ’ activities on other social media platforms is how I am about monitoring Eric’s whereabouts on ig or Spotify (like I just NEED to know when that man is dropping a new hit single). All that to the side, I love how passionate you are about your favourite artist because like you, I have also found the one artist that has made a major major MAJOR impact in my life and that is none other than my Eric Michael Stewart. He is my greatest inspiration as a musician myself, and as an individual. He reminds me to be a better version of myself, as I imagine Russ does with you. I’m just glad to have found people like you who look up to one artist as a symbol for hope, joy and happiness. And I’m sure that’s what Russ and Eric would want us to feel and experience, love.

8. @veryfancydoilies you are my second mutual that I gained through secret rocker santa and from the very beginning I knew you had this gentleness about you that just captivated me. Thank you for having such wonderful interactions with me and for gushing over cute 60s/70s guys with me. You’re such a sweetheart and I’m so pleased we’ve crossed paths 🩷🩷🩷🩷

9. @milkyway-ashes Like I said before, you are one of my absolute favourite people on here! You’re so knowledgeable about bands that I only listened to on occasion before you telling me a whole lot more about them! I’m always delighted to see you on my dash! You’re just so sweet and darling, I will always cherish the times we have had to interact with one another 🩵🩵🩵🩵

10. @mrsrogerwaters I love that we stay in touch and all those times we’ve talked about PF! Honestly, you’re probably one of the reasons they became my number 3 artist for this year, haha! Anyway, thank you for being so thoughtful always. Roggie’s a lucky guy, isn’t he? 🥰❤️

If I have forgotten anyone, I do apologise but this list is long enough as it is but that’s not to say that I don’t appreciate every single one of you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each and every one of you for the interactions, the kind words, the thoughtful gestures, etc. I cherish all of it and I wouldn’t be carrying on doing what I do on tumblr were it not for all of you, so thank you thank you thank you loads! xxxxxx

[lavalampstealer]

but do you have solaris hcs?

(your hcs are 💥/pos)

Another opportunity to gush? Absolutely!! :) I will admit I have not thought much about Solaris because I have yet to make a design for her, but a few come to mind

Hcs below cut bc game spoilers and length

- She and Fabby? Wives. Proof? We find out that Fabby had a dinner reservation to a fancy sounding place during Eaves Drop. Mm, dinner alone sounds pathetic and we know that Fabby is anything but. So, date night it is. Also, they must work together often enough because Solaris is a laser specialist and Fabricator makes death traps, so it’s fair to say that they built the laser trap in Safe and Sound (even tho Fabricator took the credit). Don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure Fabricator has a note in her office that says something like “She’s so annoying” in reference to Solaris, so my take on it is that Solaris being like that on purpose because it’s funny

- Also tell me. tell me that canonical 6’2 Solaris and canonical 5’4 Fabricator wouldn’t be funny. Solaris putting a pair of wire cutters on a high shelf to annoy Fabby. Fabricator explaining in detail how she plans to kill Solaris for making fun of her (she’s just joking.. right? she’s not serious is she? ohp, nope, she’s dead serious). finally getting inspo to draw them bc of this and this alone

- some incorrect Fabby/Solaris quotes:

S: “I poisoned one of our glasses. But I forgot which one.”

F: “The way this dinner is going, I hope it’s mine.”

——————

S: “I hate to disagree with you.”

F: “Please. You love to disagree with me more than anything, it’s your favorite thing in the world.”

——————

F: “How tall are you?”

S: “Extremely. Thank you for noticing.”

——————

F: “I am at a loss for words!”

S: “Despite being at a loss for words, Fabricator yelled at me for the next 45 minutes.”

——————

S: “You’re smiling, did something good happen?”

F: “I can’t smile just because I feel like it?”

Hivemind: “Juniper tripped and fell in the parking lot.”

——————

- I’m assuming she survived the Death Engine because of an emergency escape pod or something similar and that she ejected right as/before it blew up. She didn’t sustain nearly as many injuries as Phoenix, she got away with just a few nicks and scratches.

- She’s not working for Zoraxis because she agrees with their views, she’s there because they’re funding her work and making her designs real. Sure it may be a ginormous deadly weapon, but you have to admit, being able to make and be in charge of a functional mini-Death Star is an extraordinary scientific achievement. Who else can say that they’ve made a laser capable of destroying whole buildings?

- For some reason in my mind her default outfit is similar to Chell’s in Portal, like white shirt/tank top with a jumpsuit tied around her waist and black boots. The jumpsuit would be orange with dark grey accents, the boots would be like. combat boots? I think? some kind of heavy-duty boots

If I think of more, I’ll add them, but yeah! Silly laser scientist!!

[imsparky2002]

Talking with Thomas - Evillustrator

A privilge that cast members of Miraculous Ladybug got was that they got to have discussions with their creator, Thomas Astruc. They could give compliments on the writing, or give critiques to the script. The kid that was speaking to Thomas today was Nathaniel. “Evillustrator” was his first big episode, a huge opportunity for someone who had barely any lines and didn’t really stand out from the other boys, aside his red hair. He was shocked and pleased when he heard he’d be turned into an akuma, but then he got a look at the script, which is what sent him to talk with Thomas. The meeting started well enough, with Thomas welcoming him with a warm smile.

“Ah, Nicholas! Have a seat.” he said.

“Actually, I-It’s Nathaniel, sir.” Nathaniel reminded. Thomas just shrugged it off. “Well, first off, I just wanted to say thank you for giving me an akumatized episode. Really honored.” Astruc just nodded in appreciation.

“Well of course, Nemanja!”

“Nathaniel.”

“Whatever. We’re on our way to giving every member of Marinette’s class a chance to shine, and you just happened to be next on the list.” Thomas replied. At this point, Nathaniel rocked back in forth in his chair, uneager to reveal his complaints.

“Well, that’s the thing, Mr. Astruc. I looked at the script and-” he was cut off.

“It’s great, right! Some of our best work if I do say so myself. The design and powers are so unique, so fitting of an artist such as yourself.” Thomas gushed.

“Y-yes, I do like the powers, even if they are a little OP.” Nathaniel muttered. “No, my problem is with the motivation.”

“Motivation? What, you mean the reason you get akumatized? You know nobody cares about that junk, right? All that matters is we get to see them become a cool monster.” Thomas said, clearly not giving a rats ass about how important motivation truly was. Nathaniel took a deep breath and just let it all out.

“I come off like a creep in this episode.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows, looking at Nathaniel as if he had grown two heads.

“What are you on about?” he asked.

“Well, sir. In the beginning, I’m fantasizing and writing a comic where a self-insert superhero saves Marinette, and she falls in love with him.” Nathaniel stated. Thomas just blinked in response.

“It’s real-person fanfiction! I didn’t ask for Marinette’s consent, I objectify her in the comic, just make her the damsel-in-distress to be saved by my OC. My character feels that it doesn’t matter if his love interest consents to being drawn in his fantasies. That’s really messed up.” Nathaniel argued.

“He’s just daydreaming, that’s all. It’s not like he’d act upon it.” Thomas defended, earning a look of bewilderment from Nathaniel.

“But it doesn’t matter. This is a show for kids, right? We shouldn’t be teaching them that it’s ok to do stuff like this. If we’re writing my character to have a crush on Marinette, it should be sympathetic. We should root for this guy, not feel like we’re watching a “nice guy” coping with being alone by having shower arguments and writing Mary Sue fics on AO3!”

“To be honest, I have no idea what any of those words mean.” Thomas admitted.

“Look, I like that Evillustrator is cordial to Marinette and all, but remember, she’s only doing it so he won’t destroy the city. Can’t we at least have Nathaniel apologize to Marinette for putting her through such a thing? Not just the akuma stuff, but all the creepy shit he was doing with his characters.” Nathaniel pleaded.

“Come on, Nardwuar”

“NATHANIEL!”

“Gesundheit. You know we don’t do apologies for most characters, unless it’s Marinette.”

“You know what. Fine. I’ll do the episode, but I’ll make sure that everyone else in the cast knows how much I hated it.”

“We really don’t care. Do what you want.”

Nathaniel stormed out, but came back for a second.

“Two more things. One, I don’t like Marinette in that way, I have a boyfriend named Marc, who you still haven’t given any screentime to. Second, we all know you named Sabine after a girlfriend, and that you named Marinette’s dad after yourself. Marinette exists to be your virtual child, and she finds that apalling. You’re a fucking creep, sir.”

“Whatever, see you on set, Nathaniel.”

“AHA! So you do remember my name!”

And there you have it. I plan on doing this sort of thing with other characters as well. I really can’t stand what the show’s become, and I’m only a casual watcher! I’ve always been bothered by Nathaniel’s first episode, not to mention that he was pretty much forgotten about until Reverser, only because Marc liked him and was akumatized. Come to think of it, I actually don’t really like Canon!Nathaniel. His design is neat, but whenever the focus is on him, he just comes across as a “nice guy”, impulsive, manipulative (Penalteam), guy with anger issues (Reverser). A shame because whenever he’s not the focus, he seems like a chill guy. I still love Fanon Nathaniel, he’s my baby. You can thank @artzychic27 for giving me a love for Nath and Marc. Check out their work as BooksRBetterThanPeople on AO3. @artzychic27 @msweebyness 

[lavendertales]

Fire on fire—Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 17 of the Unholy series

summary: you and Javier spend your first full night together. A new chapter waits for you both in Cali.

word count: 4.8k

WARNINGS: talk of grief in the beginning. Blindfolds, lingerie, face sitting, dry humping, doggy (implied rough sex), squirting, cum play.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: last chapter, lovebugs! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had sharing it with you all. Thank you so much for all the love and support💕 P.S: here is the inspo for the lingerie😌and keep an eye out for the extra one-shot post-Colombia that’s gonna come real soon!

gif: @vera-kozhemiakina 

series masterlist | AO3 

There’s an unusual heat around you this morning. Granted, the atmosphere in Colombia is always this way, but you wake up to the sound of rain tapping lightly against your window, wrapped in your beloved blanket and fingers intertwined with yours.

It’s the second time Javier has spent the night, only now there is so much more to be felt between you. Grief, anger, tension, love, everything that has been boiling for the past fifteen years.

You’re nose to nose with him, having the perfect opportunity to study every little detail about him. There’s something so soothing about watching him finally get proper rest; you can see his long eyelashes, his stubbly cheek, and plush lips that can be both the sweetest and sinful touch you have ever felt on your skin. The fact that he’s holding your hand in his sleep makes the moment all the more endearing, like a perfect little gesture that’s a secret between the two of you.

“Staring is creepy, you know.”

God, his voice is huskier in the morning and you begin to wonder how come you’ve spent this long without moments like these.

“I’ve heard it can be romantic,” you retort, smiling as he’s slowly waking up.

You caress his hand, and Javier fully opens his eyes—his brown, warm eyes that don’t cease the look of admiration for you.

“How would you feel if you’d wake up to me staring at you?” he asks.

You shrug. “Pretty good. You look cute when you’re needy.”

Javier makes a mocking sound, some disapproval mixed with admiration, and your smile widens.

“You mumble in your sleep,” you say out of the blue. “Did you know that?”

Javier seems surprised by your statement, but he doesn’t question it. Instead, he gazes fondly at you, awakening more and more with each passing second.

“How would I know that?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I figured one of your lady friends noticed at some point in time.”

The sound that leaves Javier’s mouth has a hint of mockery, though not explicitly so. You reckon it is one of his default noises when people mention his personal life or habits, so you don’t bother with it. Perhaps you’re not the most qualified person to mention this at all.

Or perhaps you are.

“They never stayed long enough for that,” he casually mentions, shifting in bed so that he’s staring at the ceiling, seemingly contemplating everything.

“I feel so special,” you gush, hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

But Javier doesn’t move.

He keeps staring at the ceiling, barely blinking, and you figure something’s the matter. Not that he’s the most communicative person in the world—particularly with you—but you have enough of that God complex to actually believe he might open up to you in some way, especially now, given how yesterday went.

“What do I mumble about?” Javier asks absentmindedly.

“You keep saying ‘I’m sorry’ a lot. Not sure to whom or for what. Some things in Spanish too, about forgiveness, I think.”

Bits and pieces return to Javier’s mind, crystal clear now. The faces he sees are ghosts of his past, as well as his present, always lingering in the dark, haunting and tormenting, laughing at him on occasion.

He finally turns towards you, and you see it: somewhat of a sadness darkens his eyes, otherwise emptied of the happiness he momentarily felt last night with you.

“My mom,” he replies after a while. “The first person I apologize to is my mom. Always. I apologize to her for… not being able to be there more for her. She died when I was fifteen.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“She was sick for a long time and I couldn’t do much of anything. Then I apologize to Loraine. My ex-fiancé. I met her after college. I proposed for all the wrong reasons. We weren’t—“

“Did you love her?”

Javier doesn’t need to ponder over that. Though he cannot help the embarrassment that comes with that story.

“I thought I did,” he tells you with honesty. “I did care for her, but it wasn’t true love. She lied to me about being pregnant, I lied to her about being in love… match made in hell.”

You chuckle softly, your head resting on his bare shoulder as you let him speak freely. It’s probably the first time in God knows how long that he gets the chance to let it all out, raw and real, in a place that keeps him safe.

“Then I apologize to all the innocent lives I couldn’t save since I arrived in Colombia. All the children, the mothers and fathers I failed. And, at the end, I apologize to you.”

“To me?”

Javier grunts a soft mhm that resembles a purr, and you feel your body tauter, warmer.

“Why do you apologize to me?” you ask.

He turns to look at you, meeting your eyes with a remorseful glare, and you hold your breath.

“For not being honest with you in the first place. I could’ve spared us both a lot of pain and anger if I’d just… told you back in college how I felt. If I would’ve been open.”

“You’re not the only one carrying the fault,” you try to coax him. “I wasn’t the most open person in the world either.”

“Match made in hell.”

You chuckle more audibly this time around, with Javier mimicking the sound as well.

“Then how come this works?” you retort.

He can’t argue against that. There is no answer to that. What he does know is that, whatever the trouble or the question, you are the answer.

“We’re made of the same clay,” you continue. “We… think the same, we act the same and we do the same.”

“A little troubling how similar we are.”

“Shockingly, I agree.”

But there’s something else Javier wants to ask, and he’s hesitant to do so. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up after last night, nor live under the impression that spending the night together might change your professional feelings.

He coos your name, looking at you as if he’s desperately trying to memorize every detail of your face.

“I gotta leave for Cali tomorrow.”

His voice is small, afraid to go on, and you can tell he’s forcing himself to go on as brave as he did till then.

“I know.”

“Steve and Sofia are coming, too. They’ll be part of the team. They put me in charge, not really sure why—“

“Javi.”

“—but they want me and someone else to supervise the entire Cali operation. I nominated you.”

“Javi.”

He finally hears you, sees your pleading face, begging him to listen to reason and end his babbling. It’s an unusual habit for him, talking this much, but you always managed to bring that out of him, one way or the other.

“If you want to know if I’m going or not, just ask me, like a normal person,” you almost giggle.

“I meant every single thing I said in that letter. Including the part where I said I want you to be okay, no matter where you are or who you are with. If you don’t want to, I understand it.”

“I do want to. I will be joining the team in Cali.”

You see the relief on Javier’s face, and you almost laugh fondly at his stubbornness to conceal it through a rugged, yet forced expression.

“You are?”

“Mhm. I’ve made a commitment to the DEA, to the case… of course I’m sticking around and seeing this through.”

Javier exhales, after what feels like an eternity, and simply looks you over.

“I’m flattered you thought to nominate me as your coworker,” you smile. “I would’ve thought you’d ask Steve first.”

“He was the backup in case you said no. Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“God, you’re so stubborn.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

You peck his lips, getting lost in his scent and his taste once more. Soon, your bodies get entangled, skin pressed against skin. Javier’s lips leave a wet trail as they suck on a particular spot on your neck, and you hum softly.

“I’m so much better than you at this,” he says, keeping up his sweet torment.

You smile, your hand grazing his chest and stomach in its devilish pursuit. Javier stops, gasping when your hand fists his cock, as slowly as humanly possible. You reach up for his lips while you keep that same pace, beyond satisfied with the result.

“You’re kidding, right?” you joke. “I’m actually crushing you at this.”

“Maybe—don’t use the word ‘crushing’ when you’re—hmm—doing this.”

You giggle against his lips, the moment making Javier ticklish and causing him to laugh alongside you. But then, his smile fades as your face darkens, haunted by something.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling away.

You simmer in the bizarre sensation for a little while, trying to pinpoint what the exact issue is. And then, you come to the realization.

“I’m fine,” you say, still frowning at the sudden change of pace. “It’s just… I don’t know why, but Escobar popped into my head.”

“Trying not to take that as an insult.”

You chuckle, watching him with a guilty figure. “He knew me. When I went after him, he recognized me by my birthmark, he knew my middle name—“

“Carina.”

You look at him, stunned that he knows that piece of information that truthfully, you don’t recall confessing to him.

“Economics professor, Mr. James, always insisted to call us all by our full names. I know you really hated to be called Carina. Especially by me.”

“Which is why you kept doing it in front of others.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I don’t know why this happened now. I’m sorry. I mean he’s dead, he doesn’t…”

Javier rolls over to the side, taking your hand in his and stroking it gently. “Don’t have to apologize for anything that shithead did or said. You can be angry and upset about it.”

You respond to his touch, smiling fondly at him.

“Don’t ever say you’re not a good man,” you tell him.

“You’re going soft, cariño.”

“In your dreams, Peña.”

You press a chaste kiss to his lips, then get out of bed, leaving Javier behind to watch your naked figure roam around the room.

“Where are you going?” he asks, almost saddened by your departure.

“I gotta head down to the embassy, confirm my transfer for tomorrow. You can either stay here or come along with me.”

Javier grunts, exhaling along with it, and he smirks your way. Hate as you might to admit it, you were a sucker for this sassy side of him.

“You’re putting me in an impossible situation here,” he huffs.

“How come?”

“Cause if I stay here, I get to see you walk around with nothing on, but if I go with you… well, we could make out in the evidence room.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. You bounce back to the bed, pressing another kiss on his lips. His hands sneak around you, giving your ass a good squeeze, and you give him an unimpressed glare.

“Could you go there and bounce back here again?” Javier asks, earning another chuckle from your side, paired with a playful push of his arm.

“You’re so filthy,” you coo.

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

You pull away abruptly, leaving Javier hanging low and dry.

“I’m going to the embassy,” you insist, starting to get dressed. “You can stay here playing with yourself or you can join me and make a good impression.”

“Leaning towards the first one. How would I make a good impression there?”

“As the lead man for the Cali operation, showing up at the office to ensure the smooth transaction of the other lead man, on a Sunday, no less, would look good for you.”

Javier huffs, finally getting out of bed and searching for his clothes. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

As it turned out, no one was happier about your return to the office than Claudia Messina. She even gave you a hug, which was a rare sight and treat for any agent at the embassy, repeatedly making sure that you were okay and that you were, in fact, there to sign as the co-lead in the Cali operation.

Javier stood by your side the whole time, proudly nodding to confirm Claudia’s questions while also ignoring her side-eyeing him whenever you spoke. He was fairly certain by now that she knew you and he had something going on behind closed doors, but then again, she needn’t know more than the absolutely necessary information.

After you signed the papers and confirmed your transfer to Cali early on tomorrow, Javier invited you for lunch, thus marking your first official outing as a couple and your very first date. You enjoyed a rather quiet meal together, which was a welcome change from the usually fast-paced, loud and deadly environment you learned to navigate your daily tasks through.

“I’m glad you’re joining the team,” Javier tells you as he’s parking the car in front of your building.

His soft voice, a little huskier than usual, pairs devastatingly nicely with the rain that’s pouring outside. The raindrops tap fast and cruel on the windows, cooling down the city, yet it has the exact opposite on you.

“I know,” you retort coyly. “What would you do without me?”

Javier smiles and huffs. “Probably be more productive.”

“More productive, really? Weren’t you the one being needy this morning?”

“Weren’t you the one who threw herself at me two days ago?”

“Oh, you wanna play this game?”

“I do.”

“Do you? Cause may I remind you, you were the one getting a hard-on in the conference room while staring me down.”

Javier smiles, walking you to the door and shielding you from the rain at the same time.

“No comeback?” you huff, opening the door. “You’re really going soft on me, Peña.”

“On the contrary.”

You notice his wicked smile and it triggers one of your own.

“What do you feel like doing?” you ask.

“It’s fuckin’ blazing outside and we’re free till tomorrow morning. What to do, what to do…”

He approaches you, gently grabbing the hem of your shirt and giving you a lustful look.

“I might have something in mind,” you say, brazen and zealous.

Fire spreads rapidly throughout your veins, your skin burning at the mere sight of Javier, and the simple thought of what you’d like to do getting you wetter than you would’ve thought.

“Yeah?” Javier grins. “Like what?”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then make yourself comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

You steal a kiss from him, and rush to the bathroom, making sure the door is locked behind you. You actually forgot about the bold fashion statement you’re currently slipping into, with everything that’s been going on. You’re not even sure as to why you’ve bought them in the first place, but the timing couldn’t have been better now.

You check yourself in the mirror, slowly twirling and making sure everything is in place. The black straps of the fabric wrap your body in a taut way that’s giving you a big confidence boost. Inhaling deeply, you smile to yourself and grab the tie that’s been gathering dust on your bathroom drawer.

When you re-enter the bedroom, leaning seductively against the doorframe, you see Javier sitting on the edge, hands joined in between his legs and staring down. He senses your presence and looks up, eyes wide and pupils fully blown out.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, eyeing you up and down.

“That’s the plan. I take it you like it?”

Javier huffs, the sound mocking you and your silly little question, and for once you don’t take offense at it. You know the overall look—the black lace underwear and its garter belt—is sultry and inviting in every way anyone can think of. The only thing missing from Javier’s facial expression is drool.

You inch closer to him, tantalizingly slow, revealing the tie in your hand. You reach around his broad shoulders to remove his leather jacket. Javier watches you intently, curious as to where is your brilliant, filthy mind headed but at the same time, all too eager to process your latent moves. So he reaches to unbutton his shirt, but you are quick to grab his hands, thus putting an end to his actions. Without a word, you guide him further up the bed, and when he’s leaning against the pillows, still in his shirt and jeans, you open the bedside drawer to reveal some more fabrics.

It’s only when you’re tying his hands around the headboard’s ends that Javier raises his brows and starts to get a sense as to where the afternoon is headed.

“Are you serious?” Javier asks, though not making an effort to free himself from the constraints.

“Do I look like I’m not?”

“What you look is gorgeous. And fuckable.”

“And you look like you’re about to get needy, which I happen to enjoy.”

Securing him to the bed, you move on to his face, pressing a languid kiss over his lips before tying the tie around his eyes.

“Oh, come on,” Javier whines.

You have to admit, the sight of a restrained Javier to your bed stirs powerful emotions inside of you. A smile breaks from the corners of your lips as you join him on the bed, your legs on either sides of his clothed thigh. You bite on your lower lip as you press your core onto him, arms on his shoulders for support. Before you can even realize it’s happening, you’re grinding on his lap, while Javier is completely unable to response.

“This what you had in mind for the rest of the day?” Javier asks in an unusually raspy voice. “Use me as leverage to make yourself cum?”

“A little,” you smile in utter delight.

The sensation of rubbing your barely clothed pussy on his thigh, the raw electricity of it, is causing your head to spin.

“That why you’re dressed like this? To make me feel worse?”

“Not worse,” you coo while continuously grinding on him. “Just a little riled up.”

“A little? We’ll see about that.”

You smile and grind faster, needier; Javier clenches his fists, anger building fast within. Sheer anger at being unable to see your gorgeous figure desperately fuck yourself on him, using his body as a propeller for your own pleasure. And then he comes to realize that that’s been your plan all along.

Devilish and effective. Just like you.

He loves this, too; the way you’re using his body as leverage to reach that pinnacle of desire and ecstasy, making him squirm and nearly beg for release himself. He feels his cock throbbing in his jeans, pulsing with immense need with each roll of your hips against his jeans, yet he knows that soon he’ll get to feel you properly.

He hears your breaths get ragged, soft moans cooed in between, and he smiles. He can picture your beautiful figure fucking yourself on his thigh and getting warmer and wetter with each passing second, and the mere thought could easily make him come in his pants like some lousy, horny teenager.

Well, maybe he is that way with you.

“Fuck,” you mutter, and Javier smiles.

“That feel good, cariño?”

“Yes—“

You know that if you keep going down this treacherous path, you’ll eventually come, messily and speedy, and you don’t want it to happen this way.

Besides, this is simply a test of strength and self-control. For both of you.

Your hips no longer rut against his thigh; instead, you cup his cheeks and kiss him, hungrily, like you haven’t felt the touch of his lips for the longest time.

“Cariño?”

“Hmm?”

“Sit on my face.”

Bewildered, you stare at his immobilized figure, contemplating, craving. You haven’t really done this before and it’s stirring all kinds of emotions inside of you.

“Uh—are you sure?” you check.

“Did I stutter?”

“No, but I just wanna make sure—“

“Sit. On my face. Now.”

He doesn’t bother asking you to untie him, nor does he squirm or try to break free. No; he simply waits, breaths deep and as hungry as the body they’re being freed from.

“Panties to the side. And sit,” Javier enunciates, as if reading your mind regarding your struggle about the lingerie.

You follow through, nearly embarrassingly wet by this point. You notice the erection strangled in his jeans, and you can’t help but admire his self-control.

Both legs on either sides of his face, you lower yourself onto him. That first brush of his stubble and mustache against your folds is thrilling, his tongue lapping diligently to collect every ounce of arousal you’re capable of giving him sensational. It’s also mighty impressive how he’s able to provide you with so much pleasure already, even with his hands tied. Between moments of ecstasy, you remark Javier’s clenched fists, tugging at the restraints. You know that he craves to mold your skin between his fingers, to grope you till he leaves bruises.

“Javi—fuck—“

He can’t say a damn thing, not with his mouth full of your soaked pussy. You start to rub yourself all over his face, feeling the buildup in your belly, ready to be detonated. Javier grunts, the vibrations an additional aid towards your impending orgasm. Your mind gets foggy, your breaths shallow and your chest tight; and then you feel it throughout your entire body.

“Fuck, right there—oh God—“

You finally come, your body seizing entirely on Javier’s face as your orgasm knocks all air out of your lungs. You feel a hand tightly gripping your right ass cheek, and you come to your senses enough to realize that his left hand broke free from the headboard. Shit, that’s a determined man, you think.

You look down, seeing Javier licking his lips. “Good girl,” he praises.

Blood rushes to your face, your cheeks now appearing sun-kissed, as you climb down, settling on his lap. His free hand is now on your back, gently resting there, waiting for you to make your next move. You remove the blindfold, and Javier blinks several times in a row, taking in your gorgeous attire, almost unable to believe that this is real and that he gets to have you this way.

His other hand is now free as well, and they both move to hold your waist, not daring to move. He stares you down, and you know he’s gonna take his revenge for what you did.

That’s exactly what you were counting on.

“My turn now,” Javier mutters.

He rolls you on the bed, flat on your tummy and ass up. He bites his lips, quickly disposing of his clothes. When he wraps his hand around his aching cock, he grunts as if in pain. He gives himself a few strokes, stopping abruptly the second he realizes how sensitive he truly is and that he’d probably come in a matter of seconds if he keeps doing this.

“Can I fuck you my way?” he asks.

And his question comes so kindly and sweetly that you nearly tremble.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“On all fours then.”

You obey, sitting in position. His hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer, and you suck in a breath. The anticipation is killing you, and you know that no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that you’re prepared for what’s to come, it won’t be true.

Cock in his hand and hand on your waist, Javier thrusts inside you in one languid motion. You instantly moan, the feeling of having him so thick and eager inside of you utterly maddening. He starts to fuck you with fervor, wasting no time. He’s fucking you like he only has five minutes to spare, so much so that you can barely breathe. You try to reach around to touch him somehow, in some way, but he swiftly grabs both your arms and keeps them locked together, snapping his hips faster into you. He’s mesmerized by the way his cock disappears in and out of you, the way your ass bounces against the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and the sounds you make… Jesus fucking Christ, this is the best sight he’s ever seen.

Your face buried in the mattress, hair falling down your face and your cunt at Javier’s mercy, no sounds other than some groans and moans leave your throat. It’s pretty impressive that for a man who ran on two hours of sleep, cigarettes and whiskey for the longest time, he snaps his hips into you so fast you’re nearly seeing stars. He can’t get enough of you, the way the lingerie is strapped to your body, it’s all giving him a fever.

“Fuck, you’re so—beautiful,” he grunts. “S-So good.”

“Javi, I n-need—“

“Hm? What was that?”

“I need to cum, please—“

“So do it.”

You’d reach around to play with your clit if you could, but Javier is taking everything from you, and you can’t help but give it to him. A few more thrusts and he’s done for: next thing he knows, he pulls out and comes all over your ass, jerking himself off to completion. He watches you squirm and, freed from his grip, you rub your clit speedily, and you come with a ragged moan, your orgasm messy and unusually wet, spurting everywhere.

It takes you a while to settle down. Then you feel Javier’s hands on your ass again, only now they’re gently cleaning your skin with what feels like a warm cloth. When you move to the edge of the bed, you see the mess over the sheets, slightly embarrassed.

“Wow,” you notice. “I don’t think I’ve ever… came this hard.”

Javier smiles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you would, you cocky bastard.”

He leans down to kiss you, falling atop of you again. “So I take it you liked the lingerie?” you cheekily ask.

“We pretty much ruined your sheets. Take that as you will.”

It’s no longer embarrassment that you feel, but rather fondness, and a certain happiness. It’s bizarre—you’ve never felt happiness quite like this. It feels deserved, after all the hard work and hardships you’ve both endured.

You crawl into the bed, listening to the rain falling against the windows. Javier joins you, one arm wrapped around you.

“Starting tomorrow, we’re gonna go through hell again, you know?” Javier says, visibly contemplative.

“Nice pillowtalk.”

Javier chuckles softly, turning to look at you.

“I know though,” you reply. “We should enjoy this afternoon as much as we can.”

“Any other devilish plans on your mind?”

“Eh. Let’s see how you feel in half an hour, maybe we give it another go.”

You graze his cheek, weirdly thankful for all the moments that led you to this particular one, safely in his arms.

“You know I’d fuck you all the time if I could,” he tells you.

“You sure know how to flatter your women.”

“About the mission though… I’m thinking we should have some boundaries.”

“Like what? No making out in the break room or getting down and dirty in the evidence room?”

You smile at one another, smugly remembering the precise moments you broke all rules known to professionalism.

“Would help, yes,” Javier says. “It’s for our safety. We can’t let people know we’re together. Otherwise—“

You take his hand into yours, trying to reassure his pessimism. You can’t help but share it as well, although you know it consumes him more than you on occasion.

“I know,” you tell him sweetly. “We’ll be careful.”

Javier sees your wide smile, and it manages to make him flustered for what feels like a premiere in his life.

“What?” he asks.

“So… we’re together? A real couple?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

You shrug. “I like to hear it.”

Javier’s thumb grazes your cheek, cupping it as if he’s holding the most valuable possession in the world in his hand.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmurs.

“I know that too. We’ll be fine.”

“We’ll be fine.”

And for the first time since he’s been in Colombia, Javier means it, and feels it to be true. He knows Cali will be just as—if not more—murderous and bloody than Medellin and Bogota, but it doesn’t feel that difficult now that he’s not alone.

He was never alone when you were around him. And maybe, hopefully, he won’t ever be alone again.

previous | next ​

[oshiawaseni]

Processing chapter 362

I just wanted to check in with the thoughts I have now on Kacchan’s situation. His fate won’t be updated for a few weeks so some people might be feeling a bit at a loss. I hope you find a little comfort from reading.

In the past few chapters Kacchan has been literally taken down to hell, his body twisted and tortured, mentally torn asunder by provocations that once would have stabbed him very deeply and had the core of who he is brutally attacked in a sadistic test that culminates in an unexpected (painful, potentially self destructive) quirk evolution.

But his moment to shine is far too brief, like a very fleeting sparkler that’s snuffed out as soon as it’s lit without getting any satisfaction of enjoying it and then his life supposedly ends, just like that. Without the person who admires his spark the most to witness any of this and gush to him about how much he loves him?

And instead, he’s all alone… leaving us with his heartbreaking desire to win and stay true to himself, to the person Izuku always saw in him, wondering if he has what it takes to keep up with him yet, just so he can faithfully stay and fight by Izuku’s side… and being denied that opportunity with a death blow? Bro. 😭

What we’ve seen in these latest chapters, generally speaking, is him being physically, emotionally and spiritually beaten to a pulp and hung out to dry. Have his entire life shredded up like the previous 360 chapters of character building never meant anything. He never got to have another, long time coming, awesome moment with his best friend or share his true feelings with Izuku and vice versa. They always showed their love to other people but almost never to themselves and I’m expected to believe that one-sidedness is also the way he’s going to go out? All unfinished? Like a prettily wrapped present that will never be opened? I shall impart with you some of the wisest and most ancient words that hail from the spirit of my people, an emphatic: Yeah, Nah.

He’s not done. This isn’t the end for him because his character has been dragged through hell and for what? Angering and hurting Izuku to weaken him is never going to be an acceptable reason to end his life. Kohei didn’t have him choose not to leave the village just to now throw bnha’s AND Izuku’s most beloved character under the bus with the most horrifying angst-filled end for him you could possibly imagine. I really don’t think so. Because all of this that I’ve been talking about? This seems far too sadistic and unbelievable to be all that’s left of Katsuki. It is completely unimaginable that this devastating nightmare he’s been put through is to be his legacy.

What we’ve seen so far is nothing short of disrespect to his character and what that means is we simply haven’t seen the complete picture. He, who breathes lifeforce into the word “victory,” still hasn’t won.

The 2nd movie with them fighting together comes to my mind like a beacon of hope that can’t be ignored. It tells me that while the real ending is going to be different, the essence at its core will be the same. Winning to save and saving to win: these two ideals, these two people’s hearts, merging together as one. This is how he envisions the bkdk climax. The two of them joining as one to become the greatest Hero that not only rivals All Might, but surpasses him. Katsuki said he would from his start line and I don’t care how down bad things appear to be right now, I believe him.

Izuku had made the mistake of trying to be too much like AM but fortunately Katsuki was always around to tell him, essentially ‘F* being like him or just as good, you damn well surpass him!’ And I think that’s what sets them both apart from Shiggy/AFO.

He talks like “Do you think that would be enough to hurt All Might” and has consistently made comparisons to him throughout the series like he only ever wanted to be good enough to go toe to toe with him. He’s completely stuck on AM being the absolute ceiling of hero excellency, the highest plateau of power that looks down on everyone else and that closed mind set limits his potential and will be his downfall.

He never had a Katsuki pushing, no, turning around to face him, taking him by the hands and pulling him into running plus ultra alongside him and their class mates.

Some quick final thoughts: Bakudeku triumphant ending yes. Fusion of ideals/body/spirit/hearts/mind yes. How this all plays out not really sure but reading and thinking of theories is fun and I’m sure that Kacchan’s going to be amazing when he kicks AFO’s ass with Izuku and very hopeful that his body will be healed somehow before the end (and his soul stuff returned if he has been yoinked to suit the stories purposes)❤️ ijou

[toournextadventure]

I fucking LOVE your work, you have no idea how many times I catch myself gushing and grinning whenever I’m reading everyone but her. As if I didn’t have reason enough to love thursdays because that’s my weekly payday you’ve blessed the f out of me by having that also be the day you drop a new chapter.

I doubt it’ll play out the way I imagine it but I just pictured a scenario that made my heart swell at the thought of it.

A large part of it has to do with the fact that I relate to birb. Personally my predominately ways of showing love are acts of service and gift giving but whenever I receive it, I feel unworthy of it. It’s all done out of love when my friends do it for me and they never except anything in return of course they don’t but it makes me feel as if I need to do more, because it never feels like I’m doing enough you know what I mean?

I’m sure you can basically see where I’m going with this but I pictured a scenario that involves the Addams family taking over Nicky’s expensive medical bills.

Right now birb is currently heartbroken, angry and stressed at the fact that Nicky has the possibility of being unplugged when she’s so certain that all he needs is a little more time to get better because she’d never give up hope that his unfortunate circumstance is a permanent one but obviously she keeps getting stonewalled after running what I think is endless scenarios of how she can ensure he keeps getting the medical treatment he needs to stay alive.

I know that Wednesday doesn’t know about Nicky’s condition right now but I think it’d be something she immediately tells her parents about once she does know. Wednesday is certain they’re more than rich enough to take over the hospital bill for birb and they care about her enough to do so (dare I say love birb?) so once it finally happens I don’t think Wednesday would ever admit it to birb knowing how she feels about receiving help is such an immense way especially with expensive things.

So Birb finding out that an anonymous benefactor who took an interest to Nicky’s case is now covering the hospital expenses would have her incredibly relieved at first and surprised but I have no doubt that she’d immediately figure out that Morticia and Gomez are the ‘anonymous benefactor’ and she’d feel incredibly guilty about it because to her it seems as if now three people are paying for something that’s her fault. (I’m the same person who had a bunch of theories about the accident with Nick!)

Birb asking to speak to Morticia and Gomez in private and telling them she knows that they’re the ones donating to Nicky’s cause and promising to pay them every penny back. Morticia and Gomez feel incredibly heartbroken at the way birb insistently tells them that she’ll do everything and anything to achieve her financial obligation to giving them back everything they’re giving her with interest, that she’ll pick up a full time job, sell her things, come to the manor to do any sort of labor they need done, that she’ll teach Pugsley as many things as she can but they cut off telling her that they don’t need her do any of that.

They love their kids to death and to know have insight on how much responsibility birb feels to take of her older brother no matter the physical and mental expense and thinking she’s too young to be bearing it all by herself tell her that all they could really ask for is that birb takes the opportunity to enjoy her life a little more.

“Listen we appreciate you wanting to repay us my little crow but we don’t expect you to nor do we want you to. This wasn’t a handout, you’re one of us now and your presence is worth more than we could ever afford dear. Besides this isn’t just for you, we want to meet the man who raised such a lovely little crow and thank him for you.”

-R

See, I love all the detail you put in here because yeah, you're right, you nailed Birb's thoughts and attitude about the whole situation perfectly. Because let's be real, she can not handle thinking that she owes someone something. Big, small, insignificant, it doesn't matter, her mental state can not handle that feeling of "I have to pay them back so they don't think I'm too much trouble."

Wednesday would absolutely tell her parents what's going on. Even without any other knowledge about Marcus and Kristi, she would let them know because yes, she does care for Birb and knows how much Nicky means to her, so surely there's something they can do to offer their assistance.

But Birb can't accept it. The guilt eats away at her from the inside out, she can't eat, can't sleep, can't hardly focus on anything because now all she's thinking is how she's going to pay them back. She can't, she knows that, but she has to. There has to be some way, something she can do to pay them back.

And the Addamses are just so heartbroken, you're right. Just knowing that they could do this to help and Birb won't let them/argues about it, it's horrifying. What could have possibly happened for her to think that everything is charity and nothing is because someone genuinely cares for her?

(PS. a fun note, y'all might get to see something like this in the next chapter or two, good luck 👀)

[sluttyten]

the cinderella search

summary: you’re a staff member at SM, and during the annual Halloween party, you go dressed as Cinderella. Enter Johnny as Prince Charming. You talk, you flirt, he falls in love, but you forget to tell him your name before the night ends, and thus begins his Cinderella Search.

length: 10,615

tags: near-strangers to lovers, bed sharing, fingering, dry humping, fluff, light on the smut compared to some of my other works tbh

Growing up, Cinderella had always been your favorite fairy tale. You just really loved the glamor and romance of the story, the idea of dressing up all beautifully and mysteriously, going to a ball to be noticed by the Prince. 

And once you grew up, you still had that fantasy tucked away in the back of your mind, made more real when you entered the idol industry by joining SM Entertainment as a staff member. You were just a minor staff member, not important enough to be a manager (though that was the dream), but you were around idols so often that the fantasy was there, prodding you in the back of your mind.

There were days when you dreamed of being swept up in a Cinderella-style romance with one of the idols in the company. 

“I can’t blame you one bit,” your close friend Jiwon tells you one day. She’s a makeup artist for the company; she’s seen their bare faces, seen them up close and personal, and having worked there for longer than you, she knows various artists under the company better than you do. “I won’t disagree with you at all that a secret romance with one of them would be amazing. Just like a drama. I want Kyungsoo to be my prince charming.” She sighs dreamily. “I can’t wait for the Halloween party.”

That’s exactly what you’ve been talking about almost non-stop since you first heard that it was happening this year. With the party not having happened for a few years now due to one thing or another, this year it’s come back with a bang, and when the memo was put out that every staff member was invited to come in costume as well, just as a celebration for how hard everyone’s worked, it’s all that pretty much everyone’s been talking about. You’re excited that you get to go, that you get to dress up as well, and what caused Jiwon to start gushing about D.O. is you mentioning that you wanted to go dressed as Cinderella.

“Promise we can get ready together?” She asks you. “I really, really want to do your hair and makeup, I can already picture it.” Jiwon holds her fingers up, framing your face between them. 

It helped that you already had the dress to wear for your costume. You’d spotted it a few years ago in a thrift shop, and because of your pure love for Cinderella, as soon as you saw the dress, you knew that you had to have it. Sure, it had been collecting dust in your closet for a couple years, but now you had found the perfect use for it at last.

The day of the Halloween party, Jiwon comes over just as she’d planned, taking as much of the day as she possibly can to make you up and style your hair to make you look like the Cinderella of her imagination. She’s just going simply, wearing all black with some cat ears, some whiskers drawn on her face, but most of her attention to detail is poured into her work on you. 

By the time she finishes the last touch, you’re ready to leave. Already you’re going to be cutting it close to showing up late, so as she drops her brushes back in the bag she brought, you grab your phone, and make for the door.

“Oh no, you’re not finished yet.” She snakes her hand around your arm, bringing you to a halt. Jiwon tuts at you. “Cinderella can’t go to the ball without her mask.” 

Like a true fairy godmother, Jiwon pulls a beautiful mask out of the makeup bag. “I saw this when I was shopping for my costume, and I knew it would just be perfect. You can’t be Cinderella and have everyone know who you are, that goes against the point of being Cinderella, right?”

She carefully sits the mask on your made-up face, ties the ribbons around the back of your head, trying not to disturb the work she put into your hair.

“Can we go now, fairy godmother?” You ask. “Before midnight, preferably.”

The fairytale vibe of the night truly hits home once you arrive at the party’s venue. Everyone’s in costumes, and at first it’s overwhelming because you can’t immediately distinguish the idols from the staff from the higher-ups in the company. As you and Jiwon step inside, you can only make out a few distinct people. 

Red Velvet’s Irene is dressed like an actual goddess, complete with an array of stars in an arc around her (an interesting choice that definitely makes sure no one gets too close to her). You spot Chanyeol standing tall over the group of people he’s talking with too. And then you see him.

Prince Charming.

Johnny Suh. 

He looks breathtakingly handsome, wearing a white uniform adorned with golden tassels and medals. His hair is gelled back from his face, and he’s in the middle of laughing at the princess beside him, though her back is to you. Johnny literally looks like a prince with his face full of sunlit radiance, and in that moment your heart yearns. You wish you had a Prince Charming, but it’s clear that this one already has his princess.

And then she turns around with a flip of her long, dark wavy hair.

You burst out laughing so loud that Jiwon hits your arm to make you quiet down. 

Hendery is dressed as a princess, clinging to Johnny’s arm as Jungwoo and Ten stand there with them, both of them laughing along with the costumed couple.

There are several other princesses you soon realize. Staff members and female artists have both dressed as princesses, and the more of them you see, the more you think that you’re not the Cinderella of this ball. There’s others that shine with more glitz and glamor than your thrifted dress ever could. So you mostly stick to yourself, seated at a table in the corner, sipping at your drink to avoid talking to a drunk coworker when he stumbles into his seat at the table.

You just watch the party, suddenly no longer feeling it because the best looking man here tonight is clearly Johnny Suh (which you’ve thought that numerous times before, but especially so tonight) and it’s obvious that everyone else thinks so too. He wins a prize. He has people coming up to him all night, fawning over him, running their fingers through the tassels on his shoulders.

“Stop pouting,” Jiwon tells you as she drops down into the seat beside yours. She sits a fresh drink down in front of you. “Just drink this down and come have fun with me. We can mingle and actually get the chance to speak to some of these idols we never work with.” 

You know she has her eyes on D.O. who’s standing in a clear line of sight from where you’re both sitting, holding an audience of a few people captive with his story.

“You go.” You nod toward him. “Here’s your chance, Jiwon.”

She frowns at you. “I didn’t spend so long making you look like Cinderella just for you to sit all glum in the corner. You look fantastic, darling, and if you don’t get up and show off that lovely dress and your beautiful face, then we can’t be friends anymore.” She folds her arms in front of her and pouts. 

“If I go get some more drinks, does that count?”

“It’s an improvement at least.” She sighs. “I’m going to try to talk to him. While I’m gone, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She eyes your coworker who’s slumped over in his chair now, starting to snore. “And make sure he doesn’t puke on himself.”

You have no intention of babysitting a guy who takes every opportunity to steal credit from you, so you definitely leave the table as soon as Jiwon walks away. 

You’re standing at the bar area, waiting for the man behind the counter to make the drink you’d requested, when someone comes up beside you, just a figure in the corner of your eye. It’s only when he speaks that you look up to see who he actually is.

“I think you dropped this,” Johnny says, and he’s holding up one of the satiny blue gloves you’d worn tonight. You’d taken them off while you ate, and you forgot you’d tucked them in the ribbon around your waist.

“Oh, thank you.” You incline your head and reach for the glove, but when your fingers brush Johnny’s, you pull away with your whole hand tingling. “I probably dropped the other one somewhere too.” You look around, searching the floor.

Johnny chuckles. “No, it’s still right there.” 

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you’re grateful that you’re wearing the mask that hides most of your face. The other glove is still safely tucked at your waist, and as Johnny tells the bartender what he’d like, you pull both gloves onto your hands.

“Here’s your drink, Princess.” The man behind the counter winks as he says it, pushing the drink toward you. “And yours, Prince Charming.”

You take your drink and start to walk away, planning to head back to your comfortable corner to drink alone in peace, but then you notice Johnny just a step behind you. 

“I think you’re the only person dressed as a princess tonight that hasn’t come up to talk to me tonight.” He says, “Which is unfortunate, since I saw you the moment you walked in, and I wanted to come talk to you then, but Hendery wouldn’t let go of me. I think you deserved best costume; I’ve never seen a better Cinderella.”

His flattery works wonders on melting what nervousness you have in talking with him. Johnny’s all but a stranger to you. You don’t work closely with NCT, but on the few occasions you’ve gotten to work with them, Johnny was always such a large personality, so nice and funny and handsome. Maybe you definitely have a ridiculous crush on him. But it’s always been foolish and far-fetched.

This is the first conversation you’ve ever had with him, and you don’t quite make it back to that table in the back corner. Johnny drags you down to sit beside him at his table, and even though you’re surrounded by the other members, the way he’s looking at you as you talk makes it feel like it’s only the two of you in the whole building. 

You finish your drink, lose track of time, and by the time that the party’s really and truly ending, you’ve forgotten everything but the way that Johnny looks at you, the sound of his voice, and how much that you have in common with him. Maybe it’s ridiculous to form such a deep connection with someone at a party, especially when tomorrow you go back to being just a lowly staff member and he’s a world-famous idol. 

But Princess Hendery is the one to break up this intimate conversation. His hand lands on Johnny’s shoulder, and Johnny’s head snaps around. 

“Hyung, your ride’s about to leave.” Hendery pats Johnny’s shoulder, and then points down the length of the table to a man you recognize as an NCT manager. A tipsy Jaehyun walks by, his fingers twisting in the neck of Johnny’s uniform, and he leans in to whisper something in Johnny’s ear, his fingers slipping down to get a better grip on Johnny’s uniform, and then he’s dragging Johnny out of his seat, pulling him away out the door with their manager before you can get another word in.

You look around then, somewhat dazed at being pulled back into non-Johnny reality, and also slightly buzzed from your drinks, and you realize that the room has emptied out around you, only a handful of people remain. Including Jiwon. She’s bright red and grinning from ear to ear, leaning on a man in costume.

You refuse to let her make any drunken mistakes tonight, so you make your way over, loop your arm around her waist. “Come on, fairy godmother, it’s midnight and we need to get home before the spell wears off.”

Jiwon moans and groans, reluctantly letting you lead her out of the party at last, taking her home to pass out on your sofa.

And it’s a bit later as you fall into bed fresh from your shower with all the makeup washed away now, as you look happily at the photos you’d taken with Jiwon and some selfies you’d snapped several times throughout the night, that you tragically remember that you never gave Johnny your name.

By tragedy or fate or something else against you in the universe, you don’t get to see Johnny again before your position in the company takes you overseas. Not long term, just for a month. But during that month you build a lot of experience toward achieving your dream of becoming a manager for a group, getting your hands almost within reach of that prized promotion. 

And as for your Cinderella moment, you try to put it out of your mind, just as you’re sure Johnny’s done. Over a month has passed since the Halloween party, and you doubt he even remembers the Cinderella he spent the night talking to. Even if he does remember, you feel that any chance has long since passed for you to find him and tell him it was you.

On your first day back within the building, you’ve barely made it inside before Jiwon finds you. 

You hear her slippers slapping against the ground as she runs toward you, and then she loops her arm through yours in a vice. “Come with me. We need to talk,” she whispers conspiratorially, dragging you into the elevator with her.

“I didn’t want to tell you this while you were away dealing with everything, but,” she says excitedly in a hushed voice so no one overhears, “As your self-designated fairy godmother, I thought I should definitely give you a little heads up. Johnny’s been looking for Cinderella.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. “What?”

“Everyone’s heard him asking around casually about who’d been Cinderella that night, but you sneaky thing!” She pinches your side. “How did you manage to go the whole night without telling anyone who you were?”

Had you? You’d definitely talked with several other staff members at the start of the night, including your supervisor. At least one of them must have recognized you, right? But looking back now, maybe you hadn’t talked in particular about anything that would have given away who you were, and you don’t remember any of them calling you by name or even acknowledging that you were in their department. 

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it when the elevator doors open, and Jiwon walks out, still arm-in-arm with you.

“Look, it’s even a company-wide kind of meme.” She points at a bulletin board nearby where normally notices about events and deadlines and everything are hung. But now there’s also a sheet of paper with the word WANTED at the top, a badly pixellated image of the Disney version of Cinderella beneath that, and below that LAST SEEN: SM HALLOWEEN PARTY. In tiny font beneath contact NCT Johnny if you have any information. 

“What the hell?” You look around to see if anyone else is looking, and then you step forward and tear it off the bulletin board. “What are people thinking? What if this shows up in the background of a video?” Idols pass through here semi-frequently with cameras on them for one reason or another. You can only imagine the chaos of fans reacting to such a notice as this Cinderella one.

Jiwon laughs as you crumple the sheet up and toss it in a nearby trashcan. “At this point, everyone’s started assuming Cinderella was just a random party-crasher or a ghost since she hasn’t come forward.” She pats your shoulder comfortingly. “One of the aespa girls almost confessed to him that it was her.”

A flare of jealous heat sparks to life in your belly. “Well, it definitely wasn’t!”

“Of course not! She was dressed like a princess too, but not anything remotely Cinderella-esque.” Someone walks into the elevator area, so Jiwon drops her voice to a whisper once more as she tries to urge you, “You should go tell him that you’re his Cinderella! It would be so cute!” 

“Are you kidding?” You hiss, glancing over at the man waiting for an elevator. “Look at me, Jiwon. He’d take one look and laugh that I couldn’t possibly be Cinderella. I don’t look anything like I did that night.” You gesture at the very casual outfit you’re wearing, your drastically less made-up face, and just everything about you. You’d truly experienced some kind of magical transformation that night courtesy of the woman beside you. “I couldn’t tell him. Plus, it’s been over a month. Is he really still looking for Cinderella? I’d have given up by this point, like you said, just thinking it was a random party-crasher or something. Plus, if this is like an actual Cinderella moment, it’s not like anything romantic can happen between him and I. It’s against policy.”

Jiwon shakes her head, disappointed. “You’re such a party pooper, darling. And, you’re right, this isn’t a fairytale, okay? I get that. It’s real life and there’s actual consequences, so I won’t blame you if you don’t tell him. But come on, the risk is well worth the reward here, I would think. This job or Johnny? The choice is obvious to me.”

Maybe once you would have agreed. Choosing the literal man of your dreams (because Johnny has been showing up in your dreams with some amount of frequency ever since Halloween) would have been an easy choice before you’d actually landed a position in SM Entertainment. Even then, it wouldn’t have been a crazy choice in your mind. But more recently things have changed.

“They’re promoting me.” You shake Jiwon loose so you can face her properly. “That’s what the whole point of me being overseas for the last month was. Training me up, seeing if I had the potential to really be a manager. And that’s my dream job, you know. I don’t think the risk is worth the reward in this case. But damn,” you sigh, catching sight of a screen showing a clip from one of NCT’s music videos, Johnny’s face filling the screen. “I wish it was possible.”

To give up your dream job just for the possibility of a romance with an idol seemed far-fetched and stupid. 

So you ignore the Cinderella search. It’s not like you ever even see Johnny, so it’s not a problem at all.

Until the day comes when you officially receive your promotion. 

“You’re being promoted,” your supervisor tells you, “NCT needs a new manager, and you’re best qualified for the job.”

Your stomach feels like it drops to the floor. “What?”

You’d been expecting that you were going to get to help manage a new group, or at least maybe aespa. You didn’t think they’d throw you to the wolves that was the confusing mess of NCT’s schedules. So it was a nightmare wrapped in a thin layer of a dream, and right at the heart of it all was Johnny Suh.

You were so nervous on your first day as a manager (because of course, you couldn’t manage one of the other units, you had to be assigned to 127) that Johnny would recognize you on the spot, call you out on being Cinderella, and make a scene. But you were equally as nervous that he wouldn’t recognize you at all.

The latter turned out to be the truer though not entirely accurate.

When you were introduced to the members, Johnny gave you a kind smile, and then said, “Hey, I recognize you.”

Your heart stopped and then started beating at what felt like double-time. “You do?”

He nods. “Yeah, you’ve worked with us before, right?”

Ah. Your heart rate slows back to normal. “Yeah, yes, I have. Just a few times.” 

Then he repeats your name back to you as if making sure that he’s got it right, and an hour later you’re still thinking about the way that your name sounds from his lips.

That feeling doesn’t pass, not for a while. 

Slowly you grow more comfortable and relaxed in your role a manager for the group. You get used to the stunning presence of the handsome men. You get used to the sound of Johnny’s voice and his laugh. You get used to driving the members around, shuttling them to and from schedules, getting them what they need, managing them and managing your feelings.

And best of all, you never hear Johnny mention Halloween or Cinderella, which makes it much easier to put it all from your mind. Well, somewhat easier. Jiwon refuses to let you forget; she calls herself your fairy godmother all the time, calls you princess, teases you when you mention stories that involve Johnny, which is most of them because within several weeks of you becoming a manager for the unit, you and Johnny have actually grown quite close.

“Oh, come on!” Jiwon exclaims one evening as she stretches out on your bed. “I’m tired of all of these cute, funny stories about Johnny! I want gushy romantic, hot stories.” She rolls over onto her stomach and looks at you. “God, let me tell you, one time when I was doing their makeup the stylist had to make an alteration on his pants, and that man whipped off his pants with no shame and stood there in his underwear for me to do his makeup. Babe, I know you’re already mentally going through hoops to avoid thinking about him, but trust me that you would reconsider if you had seen his--”

You slap your hand over her mouth. “Don’t.”

“No need to sound so pained about it.” She pushes your hand away. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so hard. Yeah, you’re a manager, but you and him are fully grown adults. This is a stupid policy because from the stories you’ve told me, if you and Johnny were just alone for like an hour together, you would probably end up together.”

You roll your eyes. There have been times you’ve been alone with Johnny, driving him to or from a schedule. It wasn’t like there was undeniable sexual tension in that van or anything like that. And even if Jiwon means totally alone in a non-mobile setting, you doubt anything like that would happen, but you’ve never yet had the chance to find out.

When the first winter storm hits, you’re driving Taeyong back to the dorm from a solo schedule he’d had that had run long. It’s very late. Taeyong dozes in the passenger seat, you’re yawning every other minute, and as you enter the city limits you realize that it’s starting to snow large, fluffy flakes that are coating everything they touch.

The city’s been extremely cold lately, so you’re not surprised that the snow isn’t melting, just piling up, making it hard to see at times. 

By the time you reach the dorm, the roads are slushy and slick. Snow blows across the streets in waves.

Taeyong’s schedule had been a three-day event, so he has a few items to unload, and due to the sharp cold breeze and how deep asleep he’d been just moment before, you help Taeyong unload and carry his belongings up to the dorm. Your shoes squeak on the floor, and by the time you reach the door of the dorm, you’re both still shivering.

The door opens with a chime, and as you come inside, you see Johnny’s sitting at the kitchen table playing on his phone and eating cereal. Taeyong mumbles something, toes off his shoes, drops his bags, and just stumbles off to bed, too sleepy to even do anything else.

Johnny’s watching you as you let out a big yawn and sit what you’d been carrying down beside the rest. 

You run your fingers over your hair, brushing away the last snowflakes that cling somewhat intact to your hair. “It’s snowing pretty good out there. I haven’t seen snow like this in years.”

Johnny glances over at the large window of their living room. The puffs of snow float by, lit up by all the city lights, and he stands up, walking over to press his face to the glass, looking down at the street below and the rooftops around their building. Everything’s already covered in a pretty decent amount of snow. 

“It’s beautiful out there.” Johnny is pressed to the glass, looking out at everything. 

Before you can register what’s happening (it is very late and you’re half-asleep on your feet, so excuse you if you’re a little slow at the moment), Johnny’s walking back past you, grabbing his coat from the back of a chair with one hand, and taking your hand with the other. He guides you along by the hand down through the building, out into the falling snow. 

“What are we doing?” You ask, folding your arms around yourself as Johnny releases your hand once you’re outside. Shock at the situation kept you silent until then. “You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch a cold.”

Johnny laughs. “I’ll be fine. Come take my picture.” He walks out into the snow-covered street, tilting his head back to the sky, arms held out. The streetlight just down the road casts Johnny and the snow in a silver light, and he’s so beautiful in that moment that you’d be crazy not to take a photo, so you pull out your phone and start taking pictures of him. 

This photoshoot goes on for several minutes before you pause to check a photo you just took, and for your efforts of trying to be a good photographer, you get a snowball right to the shoulder. Johnny’s laugh is loud in the muted silence of the falling snow, and he only laughs louder when you shove your phone into your jacket pocket and duck down to form a snowball of your own.

The snow fight lasts until you’re both pink-cheeked, sniffling in the cold air, and neither of you can feel your fingertips anymore.

“I’m t-too cold to keep this g-going.” Johnny laughs and shivers, tucking his hands into his armpits as he walks toward you. 

“I - I should get going anyway.” Your teeth chatter together. “I still need to get home, and it’s late.”

“Come up for c-coffee,” Johnny suggests, his eyes lingering on you and the snow caught in your hair, wreathing your face. “You’re clearly tired and cold. You need some coffee.”

Damn your heart and Johnny’s good intentions. You follow him back up to the dorm, and while you shuck off your coat and wet shoes and damp socks, Johnny starts making you both some coffee. And minutes later, you’re still shivering as you clasp a warm mug between both of your hands, sitting next to Johnny while he swipes through your camera roll to check out the photos of him you’d just taken.

You know that you should leave. It’s not appropriate for you to just be hanging out at the dorm. You should put your coat and shoes back on, take the coffee to go, and head home so you can get some sleep before you have to work tomorrow. Just as you’re about to say something along those lines, your phone buzzes against the table and Johnny makes a soft, oh.

“What?” You lean closer, sitting the mug down on the table.

“It’s a weather alert.” Johnny looks up at you, and for a moment neither of you speak or move or breathe. You’re so close together right now. You can see all of the little water droplets stubbornly clinging to his eyelashes from the snow. You can smell the coffee on his breath and something a little sweet too. But then Johnny snaps his mouth closed and leans back a little, just putting some distance between you and him. 

He clears his throat, then says, “It says the roads are really bad, that it’s just going to get worse. You should probably just stay here tonight, and I feel like you’re going to argue with that, but honestly, it’s for your own safety. Roads are dangerous, plus you’re already cold and tired. That’s a bad combination. You’re just going to have to be back here in a few hours to pick us up anyway since hyung is gone.”

You’d forgotten about that. The manager that normally stays at the dorm with them is gone for the week. That’s why you had to be the one to take Taeyong to his solo schedule, and why you were going to have to be up earlier than normal for work tomorrow. Maybe Johnny has a good point.

Johnny looks away from you, back down at your phone, and he swipes away the notification, then makes a little frown. 

You look down as well, and there you see that your phone has gone back to the screen showing all of your photos, and there, just barely visible at the top of the screen, is a photo you’d taken of yourself in the Cinderella costume on the night of the Halloween party.

Johnny inhales and the silence as you wait for his exhale seems to last an eternity.

“You were--”

You push back from the table, already reaching to pull your shoes back onto your feet, forgetting entirely about your wet socks. “I’d really better leave.”

You’re halfway to the door, hopping on one foot, struggling to get your second foot into it’s boot, when Johnny loops his hand at your elbow, helping to steady you as you’d nearly just tipped over onto your face. 

“Please don’t leave.” He pleads.

You look up at him. Your foot thumps heavily down onto the ground. “Johnny.... please. I shouldn’t stay here, I could get in trouble with the company.”

His eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them before. “Please stay. It’s dangerous out there, I’ve said that already. If anyone has a problem with you staying here overnight for your own safety, then I’ll vouch for you. I’ll make the others vouch too.” His hand slides from your elbow down to your wrist, holding loosely now that you don’t seem to be in such a rush to leave. A slow, crooked smile appears on his lips. “And anyway, Cinderella, you’re supposed to leave a shoe behind, not your wet socks.”

You roll your eyes, but you smile as well. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“That you’re the Cinderella I’ve been looking for for months now?” Johnny’s hand slips even lower on your wrist until his fingers are just clasping your hand. “Why didn’t you want to tell me? I had so much fun talking with you that night, and after we left I realized I hadn’t even found out who you were.”

You shiver now that your feet are back inside your wet shoes. 

Johnny clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Take your shoes off. You’re staying. Go on. Sit right there.” He points at the chair beside the table. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you dare leave.”

His voice is so commanding, you wouldn’t dare leave now. He walks out of the kitchen, and when he returns a moment later, he’s carrying a change of clothes for you from his own closet. 

“I know it’s your job to worry about us,” he says, holding out the clothes to you. “But please let me take care of you too. Don’t catch a cold. You can go shower in the bathroom off my room, put these on. You’re staying here tonight.”

You nod, accepting the sweater and slick basketball shorts. 

When you emerge from the shower several minutes later, feeling much more thoroughly warmed, the lights in the dorm have all been turned off, but Johnny’s sitting on the sofa now with his phone lighting up his face. It’s very, very late. He looks as if he could nod off right there, but as you walk closer to him, he blinks up at you. A smile breaks across his otherwise sleepy expression.

“What?” You ask, sinking down onto the sofa with him. There’s a blanket draped over the back, and Johnny immediately pulls it down over your shoulders. You clasp the edges of it together in front of you. “Why are you smiling like that? Are you feeling feverish or something?” You lift a hand and immediately check his forehead with the back of your hand, but he doesn’t feel warm.

Johnny, still smiling, reaches up to lightly bat away your hand as he sighs and rests his head against the cushiony back of the sofa, staring at you. “No, like.... It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“You gave them to me.” You reply, amused at the dopey look on his face. 

“I know.” Johnny whispers. “You just look really good in them.”

Your heart flutters in the way that you know you shouldn’t let it. This is Johnny. You’re his manager. This is inappropriate to be feeling this way about him. It’s definitely inappropriate to be sitting on a sofa in the dark with him, wearing his clothes, having just showered in his shower using his shampoo and body wash. But it feels good.

You lean your head against the sofa’s back too, draw your knees up toward your chest, and you look right back at Johnny in the same way he’s looking at you. You whisper, “You should go to bed. We all have to be up in a few hours.”

He bites his bottom lip and then stretches out a risky hand to touch yours. When you don’t pull away or tell him not to, Johnny keeps going, turning your hand over, pulling it into his lap. He touches your palm, caresses your fingers, treating you like you’re fragile and delicate like a little princess.

“Johnny,” you whisper a few moments later when he’s still just holding your hand, making no effort to go to bed. “Go.”

“There’s so much snow out there.” He says after another few seconds. “There’s no way that we’ll still have our schedules tomorrow. By the time morning really comes, we’re going to be buried in. I was looking at the weather while you were showering, and it’s not showing any sign of stopping before at least tomorrow night.”

“Banking on your schedule being cancelled doesn’t mean you don’t have to go to bed.” Your hand shakes slightly as you lift it, trembling with the risky nature of what you do next. Johnny’s hair is soft and his face is pleasantly warm as you push a few loose strands away from his face. 

Johnny exhales at the feel of your fingertips just barely brushing his skin. “Come to bed with me. Haechan’s not here. He’s upstairs tonight.”

You noticed that as you crept into Johnny’s room to use that bathroom. Both of the beds were empty. 

It’s tempting to give in, to follow him into that bedroom and let the door close behind you as you get into bed with him. You’re sure that sharing a bed with Johnny would be very warm and comforting in this snowy cold night. But you can’t. 

“Johnny.” Your voice trembles ever so slightly. “I can’t. I’m your manager, and it just.... I could get in trouble.”

“You’re still shivering from the cold,” he argues, “Basically hypothermic. I’m just trying to keep you healthy, trying to save you from freezing. No one would know but us. If the others ask questions, I’ll make excuses.” He smiles, and that almost does it for you.

You shake your head, close your eyes, turn your head away from him so you’re not faced with the temptation. “No. I’m serious. You should go to bed. I’ll stay right here. Just here.” You pat the sofa. “I’ll be comfy and this blanket’s warm.”

“Fine.” Johnny sighs, and he stands up, still holding your hand. “But don’t think that you can sneak out, Cinderella. Okay?”

You squeeze his hand lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Johnny.”

He leans in so quickly that there’s no time for you to even protest before he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek. And then he’s gone, vanishing into his bedroom as you sit frozen on the sofa, looking after him.

It takes a long time to fall asleep after that. Just you lying there in the dark with the blanket tugged up to your chin, listening to all of the unfamiliar sounds of the dorm, watching the snow drift by outside the window, shivering in the chill air.

After nearly an hour of silence and cold and overthinking, you sit up, gather the blanket around your shoulders, and you tiptoe across the living room to the door of Johnny’s bedroom. 

When you reach the door, you stand there in hesitation, your knuckles hovering just inches from the door. You’re being silly. Ridiculous. You’re putting the future of your career in jeopardy by just standing here before his doorway and contemplating going inside. You shift your weight uncertainly, drop your hand to your side, consider turning back and walking to the sofa, but before you can move, the door swings open and you’re faced with Johnny’s chest.

You lift your gaze slowly to his face.

“I could almost hear you thinking through the door,” he says with a smile, and then he steps aside, “Why don’t you come in?”

“It’s just cold out there,” you mumble as you step inside, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “I was going to ask if you had another blanket.”

Johnny hums in a way that tells you that he doesn’t buy your lie one bit. He closes the door behind him, his back braced against it as he faces you. “I can’t believe that all this time you’ve been my Cinderella.” He shakes his head, gaze wandering over the shadowy shape of you.

His room is dark but your eyes are adjusted just enough that you can see him fairly well in the faint light coming in through the window. So you can see as he pushes away from the door, as he steps toward you. Your body tingles in anticipation, your fingertips go numb so you curl them into fists in your blanket, and Johnny stops right in front of you.

“It’s well past midnight, Cinderella,” he whispers. “The ball is ended, the magic spell is worn off, and you’re still just as beautiful and fascinating and enchanting as you were that night.” His hands come up to the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, fingers tucking underneath. Your grip on the blanket loosens even as Johnny starts to move the blanket.

It falls away, pooling at your feet.

“Johnny.”

His thumb brushes along your jawline. Your body feels on fire, your fingers burn with the desire to touch him too. So you do, curling your fingers at his hips, his skin warm under yours, and Johnny takes a shuffling step just a bit closer to you, his bare toes bumping against yours.

“Johnny,” you repeat his name, lifting your chin to look him in the eye. “Kiss me?”

He doesn’t wait for you to ask him again. Johnny leans in and catches your lips in a kiss. His palm rests against the side of your neck, his thumb still stroking at your jaw. When you try to press closer, to deepen the kiss, Johnny backs away.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, clenching your hands at his sides. 

Johnny chuckles, dipping forward to kiss your forehead. And then he kisses you again. He takes a step back, you follow, and another, and then he’s sinking down onto his bed, his hands moving to your hips to guide you to straddle his lap, not breaking the kiss as you do.

Making out with Johnny Suh is certainly not what you imagined you’d be doing tonight when you brought Taeyong home from his schedule, but here you are, sitting in his lap in his bed, his hands on your hips, and your mouth on his.

“Wait,” he mumbles, pulling back momentarily. “Let me put some music on or something.”

You don’t want to move from his lap, but you let him lean away, reaching back across his bed toward the pillows to grab his phone. He taps at the screen for a few moments, and then music—soft enough to not wake anyone but just loud enough to mask any sounds the two of you may make—begins to play over his Bluetooth speakers.

As Johnny sits back up, leaving his phone tucked beneath his pillow, you admire the sight of him. His abs. His chest. His arms.

You’ve seen Johnny shirtless before in dressing rooms, for photo shoots and video shoots. But seeing him like this, in the half light of his bedroom with the tingling reminder of his lips on yours, is a completely different experience.

Like a magnet, he finds you again. His mouth on yours, kiss unrestrained under the cover of the music, letting out tiny little moans as he kisses you. Each sound brings a smile to your lips, and after a few moments, you’re grinning into the kiss, twisting your fingers into his hair, and Johnny smiles as he fits his hands under your borrowed sweatshirt, his fingers chilly on your heated waist and belly.

His fingers shift higher and higher, and your breath hitches as he caressed your breast.

“Alright?” He murmurs, giving you a moment to answer while he kisses the corner of your mouth, skimming his lips over your jaw, down your throat.

You shiver, twisting your fingers a little more tightly in his hair, shifting just that much closer to him. You can feel every inch of him against you, your body burns and tingles, your heart racing in your chest.

“So good,” you moan softly, tugging lightly on his hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

Johnny smiles into the kiss, his thumb drifting attentively over your nipple. Slowly he eases backwards until he’s flat on his back and you lie against his chest, still just kissing him and yearning to feel his hands touching you everywhere, not just your breast. You shiver against him again, and Johnny is gentle as he rolls you under him, as he tugs the blankets up over your bodies.

“Still cold, Cinderella?” He teases, his nose bumping against your cheek.

You push a section of his hair back behind his ear, spend a few seconds lingering there, your thumb against his face. He’s so handsome, and you being here beneath him in his bed, it’s unreal. Like a dream. Like a fairytale Cinderella moment you never thought you’d have because he’s an SM Prince, and who are you? Hardly any better than a servant.

Johnny shifts to the side, looking down at you. “What are you thinking about? You’ve got that expression.” He lifts a finger and traces the furrow between your eyebrows.

“I’m just thinking how I don’t belong here.” You sigh, looking away to the window. Your hand is on his arm and you absentmindedly stroke over his sunflower tattoo, mirroring the movements of his thumb moving back and forth on your waist beneath the sweatshirt. 

Johnny’s lips touch against your throat, pulling a sigh from your lips, to which he asks, “What do you mean you don’t belong here? And don’t tell me again that it’s because you’re a manager.”

But that’s exactly why. 

“Stay here. With me.” Johnny withdraws his hand from beneath your sweatshirt. “If you feel like this is moving too fast, we can stop here. We can go to sleep. Just sleep.”

He moves back an inch or two, just as much as his narrow twin bed will allow, but you don’t want him to go far. You scoot closer again, still gripping his arm. Johnny smiles at that. You sink your head onto the pillow, look up at him. “I’ll stay.”

“Good.” Johnny brings his hand up, tracing his knuckles lightly along your cheek in a way that makes your heart pound and your toes and fingertips tingle in delight, in the need for reciprocation, to touch him and hold him too. But you bring your hands up to your chest, clench them into tight fists inside the sleeves of the sweater, will yourself to not touch him because if you do, you’re pretty sure you won’t be able to stop yourself from going further. 

“You promise you won’t run away after I close my eyes?” Johnny asks. 

“I promise.” You watch as Johnny stands up from the bed, and he hesitates then for a moment, looking down at you, his hands on his hips. You think, for a moment, that he’s about to tell you goodnight and sleep in Haechan’s bed instead. But he takes a deep breath, his thumbs tracing along the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“So, normally, I do sleep in my underwear. I get hot at night, so it’s just a lot more comfortable for me.” He explains, glancing away as he admits this. You have a feeling that he might actually normally sleep naked, but given that you’ve both agreed to draw the line at making out and some light touching tonight, being naked in bed with you might be a bit more than you wanted. 

You appreciate his unspoken question, a request for you to consent to him stripping to his underwear to sleep in bed with you. But it’s his bed, in his bedroom, in his apartment where you still feel you don’t entirely belong. You’re the intruder here. And besides--

“I like to sleep in my underwear too,” you tell him. “So it works out.” 

Beneath the blanket, you shimmy easily out of the silky basketball shorts Johnny had lent you, and as you drop them out over the side of the bed, you watch Johnny swallow, his throat bobbing even as he smiles a little. You watch too as his thumbs tuck under the waistband of his pants, and then he’s pushing them down, kicking them off, slipping back into the narrow bed with you.

You keep the sweater on, but the bare skin of your legs, from toe to hip feel so free beneath the sheets, and when Johnny’s knee knocks into yours, you feel it from the point of contact all the way through your body. You’re hyper-aware of him, more than you’ve ever been with anyone else probably.

And then you lift your leg a little, draping it over one of his so your knee rests between both of his. You prop yourself on your side a bit, a hand tucked under the pillow. Johnny faces you too.

“Goodnight, Cinderella,” he whispers. 

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

You don’t remember falling asleep. One moment you were listening to the music softly playing still from the speakers, to the even sound of Johnny breathing. And then you’re woken by the sound of your phone ringing while the sky outside is still a dim shade of gray.

Your phone’s in the pocket of the shorts on the floor, so you fumble around for a moment before finally fishing them out of the pocket. You stab at the button to answer the call, squinting against the brightness of the screen.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone.

Johnny shifts beside you, his hand sliding over your belly where the sweatshirt has ridden up through the night. His thumb touches the lacy edge of your panties. You close your eyes and focus on breathing, on listening to whoever’s interrupted your sweet sleep so early in the morning. 

“I’ve got some good news.” It’s your boss, the one who makes all of the big calls. “Schedules are cancelled for the day, that’s the official news. The city’s snowed in, so you can stay home today.”

You can’t believe Johnny was right about that. You’ve never had a day where you heard of their schedules being cancelled because of the weather like this, but you accept it, thank him for calling to let you know, and when you end the call, you lie there in the silent darkness of the bedroom.

At some point in the night, the music has ended. It must be very early, with the sky still so dark outside the window, but even in the half-light you can still see snowflakes drifting by. 

Johnny’s fingers twitch on your belly, his pinky finger stroking along the top edge of your panties. You turn your head to look at him.

His eyes are still closed, but you can tell that he’s awake.

“Who was that?” He asks after a few moments, his voice soft and rough at the same time, drenched with sleep. 

“You were right. The day’s schedules are cancelled.” You lay your hand over his. You’re half-tempted to move it just because it’s driving you to distraction, but at the same time you don’t want him to stop touching you like this.

“Mm, perfect.” Johnny opens one eye to look at you. “Now we can just sleep for the rest of the morning. Stay in bed.”

You want that. There’s nothing you want more right now than to stay here in bed with Johnny. “I should probably go let the other boys know. Tell them to turn off their alarms. To stay inside today where it’s warm.”

The tip of his pinky makes it just beneath the edge of your panties. Your nipples are hard, and you’re glad you’re wearing the sweatshirt so he can’t tell how just this tiny touch is affecting you so greatly. But it’s something in the way he’s looking at you right then--his bottom lip caught beneath his teeth, his eyes on your parted lips--that tells you that somehow he already knows how aroused you are.

You almost close your thighs, squeeze your legs together to do something about that burning need rising between your legs. But your one leg is still draped over Johnny’s, your calf against his. And when you move it just a little, the friction of your skin against his has Johnny breathing more deeply.

There’s a buzz running under your skin, zipping through your veins, and in the moment you forget everything else but that feeling and Johnny making you feel it. 

Your hand covers his on your belly, and you apply just the lightest amount of pressure. His fingers slide so eagerly into your panties.

His breath sounds unsteady, and you’re sure yours does too.

“I’m gonna be so honest right now,” he tells you, his voice barely more than a breath. “I’m so hard, baby. The second you made that little whimper, shit, I felt lightheaded.” You don’t know what whimper he’s talking about, but you don’t care. His fingertips are edging lower and lower inside your panties and in a second he’ll be touching your clit and that’s all you want right now. You almost buck up into his touch.

You grip his wrist before he can, and Johnny freezes. “We don’t have any music,” you tell him. 

Johnny smiles. “Guess you’ll just have to try to keep quiet then, won’t you?”

“Guess you should kiss me again then.” You reply, and Johnny’s only too pleased to satisfy that request.

The moment his mouth is on yours, he’s dipping his fingers lower, his middle finger touching your clit, and he gasps lightly as he feels the heat of your wetness coating his fingers. You can��t believe you’re doing this with Johnny.

He rolls closer, and as he does you can feel his erection against your thigh. 

“You want me to finger you, baby?” His words flow over your lips, swallowed right down by your eagerness. You nod. “I want to hear you say it.”

A new wave of heat bursts in your belly at Johnny’s dominant tone. “I want your fingers, Johnny.” 

He smiles as he kisses you now, pressing his long middle finger inside you in a way that would have you loudly gasping except for his mouth sealed over yours. Johnny curls his finger just right, his palm smoothly moving against your clit as he thrusts his finger inside you, soon adding a second then a third. 

You’re openly panting and moaning into his mouth as he fucks you on his fingers. His other arm is wrapped around your back, bracing you against him as he works you quickly toward an orgasm. His erection is against your thigh, and occasionally you notice him grinding against you, thrusting forward to help with what he needs. But most of his attention is on you, making you feel good.

It’s still some time before dawn when Johnny brings you tumbling over the edge of your climax. Your thighs close around his arm, his fingers still pumping inside you, and you bite his tongue as you cum, and that just makes him moan. 

You’re still shaking from the ecstasy when you break the kiss to drop your head to his shoulder, your breath coming out in shaky puffs.

Johnny kisses your forehead, his damp fingers pull out, slipping out of your panties to rest against your thigh, the other hand strokes your lower back, a relaxing weight keeping you resting against him. You try to move a hand down, wanting to touch him too, but Johnny makes a noise.

“You don’t have to.” His damp fingers close around your wrist. “I’m fine.”

“You’re still hard.” You raise your knee a little so your thigh brushes against where his dick is still full in his underwear. 

His eyes flutter for a moment, his hips grinding forward. 

You lift a hand to touch his hair, tugging lightly to bring his lips to yours as you tilt your head back. “Let me make you feel good, too, Johnny.”

Johnny slides his body over yours smoothly, his body bracketed perfectly by your thighs. You tangle your arms behind his neck, kissing him like your life depends on it as he grinds against you through your panties. 

You can feel him very clearly now. Every inch of him. You wish he was inside you, stretching you wide open, filling you deeply with his length. You kiss him and trace all of those desires against his tongue. Your heart pounds with that desire, breath racing and your nails rake down his back as he picks a good rhythm. You’re going to cum again, you already know it.

“Fuck,” Johnny mumbles into the kiss. “I wish I could cum inside you.”

“Then fuck me.” You gasp back. “Where are condoms?”

His lips slide from yours, over your jaw to your throat. He groans. “In the drawer over there.” But you can tell from the tightness in his voice, from the broken staccato beat of his movements that he’s close, that he probably won’t be able to hold back much longer. Why wait? Why risk putting a pause on this if it might just ruin his orgasm?

You shake your head, tangle your fingers in his hair, guide his lips back to yours. Next time. He can fuck you next time. Right now you just want him to cum; you want him to get you to cum a second time.

A hoarse groan builds in the back of his throat, and Johnny thrusts one last time before he freezes, his cock twitching in his underwear, right against you. You can feel the wet heat of him spreading through the material right against you, and you buck your hips up, chasing your own orgasm even if it means grinding against Johnny’s sensitive cock as he comes down from his high.

Johnny’s mouth feels so soft against yours when you kiss this time as your orgasm crashes through you. Lazy kisses, bodies intertwined. Johnny doesn’t move from between your thighs, just holding himself above you, kissing you slowly and softly.

Morning is breaking outside, though with the heavy winter weather, there’s not too much of a difference visually. 

Eventually Johnny moves away, his hand slides up under your sweatshirt, just touching your bare skin as you both tuck yourself against each other and catch your breath. 

It’s still early. You could roll over to fall back asleep, but even as you consider that, you know it’s too late, you’re already wide awake. Johnny knows it too, so after a handful of moments, he kisses you and then sits up.

“I’m going to shower.” He stands out of bed, tugging uncomfortably at his underwear. You can see the damp spot spread over the front of them, and you hide your smile in his pillow. You made him cum in his pants. It’s cute. You close your eyes and replay that moment, Johnny pressed against your like that, the way he’d moved, the way he’d sounded as he came.

When you open your eyes again, he’s gone. The bathroom door is closed, only a thin sliver of light beneath it and the gentle patter of the shower turning on indicating that Johnny’s behind it.

The dorm is still thick with the sound of sleep, so you’re quiet as you redress and creep out of Johnny’s room. You stand to look out the window in the living room. The world outside is covered in thick snow that continues to fall. Your breath fogs the glass.  

Taeyong’s the first one up, stumbling out of his room in just shorts and a tshirt, shivering as he walks into the kitchen. He pours himself a glass of water, and when he turns around, he spots you and nearly drops the glass. He swears viciously before realizing it’s you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He covers his mouth. “Did you stay here last night?”

You nod. “The weather got worse and I was really tired, so Johnny insisted that I stay.” Taeyong makes a face that you can’t quite decipher before he hides it. “Your schedules are cancelled for the day, by the way. We’re snowed in.”

Taeyong nods. “In that case, I’m going back to bed.” He disappears back into his bedroom, and once more the dorm falls silent.

A shiver works its way down your spine as you yawn. You’re so tired, but you know you can’t go back to sleep, so you go make yourself a strong cup of coffee, watch the snow and think. You think about how what you did with Johnny was a mistake--it was great and you loved it and you can’t truly bring yourself to regret it, but it was a mistake nonetheless because if it gets out, if this becomes serious or ends badly, then it will reflect horribly on your career, and all of your dreams will be flushed away. 

You want Johnny. You love the way he makes you feel. But you know that you shouldn’t indulge. 

And for the next several minutes you sway back and forth on that dangerous line of thought--you want him, but you shouldn’t want him. Maybe you should just leave today, go home, and the next time you see him pretend that the events of last night and this morning never happened. Maybe he’ll forget you’re the Cinderella he spent months searching for.; maybe that was all just a fun game for him anyway, and he’ll lose interest now that he’s found you.

By the time the coffee finishes brewing, you hear the sound of movement in Johnny’s room as he leaves the shower. You pour yourself a mug, another one for him, and then you knock carefully (to not spill the coffees) on his door before opening it.

Johnny’s sitting in bed again, but when he sees you, he sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Feel better?” you ask him, standing there beside his bed as you offer him one of the coffees. He nods and sips at his coffee, and you look over at the window again, at the steadily falling snow. "I guess I still need to figure out some way to get home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Johnny murmurs into his coffee. “You can stay here. Stay right here.” He lifts his face out of his mug just long enough to grab your hand and pull you down to sit on his bed. He doesn’t let go of your hand.

You say his name in a warning tone, but it just makes him smile. 

“What?” His thumb rubs gently over your knuckles. “Cinderella kept running away from the Prince because she was scared of her stepmother and stepsisters, right? Well, the Prince found her and they lived happily ever after. I like you. I liked you before I knew you were my Cinderella from Halloween. Finding that out last night or this morning or whatever, that’s just a bonus. I like you in case what we did earlier didn’t make that obvious, and if you like me too, well we can find a way to be together even if our wicked company tries their best to keep it from happening.”

You feel very warm all of a sudden, possibly its the coffee or the bulky sweater Johnny had let you borrow, or it could very well be that he’s confessing to you. Confessing in such a cheesy manner, too. He has feelings for you. For you, not for the Cinderella fantasy version of you. 

You push the sleeves of the sweater up your arms, trying to cool down some.

“Johnny.” You know that nothing good can come of what he’s suggesting.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he says softly. “Don’t say it like it’s a no. Don’t say it like you want me but you can’t. We already started down this path, so don’t turn your back on this, please. Say my name like you agree with me, like you like me too.” 

“Johnny.” This time you put your longing for him behind those two syllables. You try your best to make it sound like a yes. 

You want Johnny. You want this to work. And if he believes in it, then you want to too. But you won’t let this affect your dream. You’ll have Johnny and you’ll have your dream job too. You can figure it out as you go.

Johnny grins. “Yeah, that sounds much better.” He takes a drink of his coffee again, watching you over the lip of the mug, then says, “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“Coffee is hardly breakfast, Johnny. Please tell me that you know that.” You groan, prying the coffee mug out of his hands.

He shrugs and grins, watching as you sit his mug and your own on his bedside table. And then he reaches for you, pulling you into his lap so you’re face-to-face. Johnny kisses you slowly, deeply, and when he pulls away, he murmurs, “All I know for now is that you’re my mysterious Cinderella, you’re wearing my sweater, I can still smell you in my sheets, and we have no plans for the rest of the day. If you’d like, I’d love to make you cum again.”

Oh God, you think to yourself, what have you gotten yourself into?

a/n: so months and months ago back when I was accepting requests based off a prompt list, someone sent me a prompt for Johnny to use both “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” and “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.” and thus this was born

I wouldn’t have taken so long to write this, and I’m really really sorry to the original requester (especially since I know I’ve messaged them and let them know it would take a while, but damn I don’t think either of us thought it would take this long, and I checked and they haven’t been active on their blog in a while, so now I feel bad) but I got distracted with writing the next part of the poly series (which was Adore You) and then forgot about this for a brief time, and then once I remembered I was deep into working on the poly finale, so I had to focus on it. But now I’ve finished that! And I’ve finished this too, so if the original requester is still around and sees this then I’m sorry it took so long please forgive me! I would tag them, but I’m not entirely sure if they wanted to be tagged in this or not!

[seita]

— miscommunication | m.

pairing: matsukawa/f!reader

wordcount: 4.860

genre: smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

cw: camboy!mastukawa, established relationship.

tags: masturbation (m.), dirty talk, cam sex, daddy kink, pet names, praise kink, soft!mattsun, fingering, cock riding, big dicked mattsun, multiple orgasms, creampie, use of the word cunny.

note: repost from my other blog!

+ summary: your highschool sweetheart makes a lot of money as a camboy. however, when you start watching his streams, things he says instills insecurity within you.

The second you met Issei Matsukawa, you knew that you were going to fall completely, irrevocably in love with him. There was just something about him; he was sweet, kind, attentive, and strong – among other things.

Since you knew him in high school, word swirled around that when he was older he would be a dream man. They were right.

You have no idea how your little puppy dog crush managed to catch his attention, but you were happy about whatever you did.

When he graduated, he learned he could make money off of his body. He was tall, over 6 feet tall, and fit with a dominant personality and sweet voice that made you want to do anything he asked.

It started off with him simply selling nudes and short videos of him simply stroking his cock. You were both baffled by how much people paid for a 15 second clip of him jerking off – not even finishing.

He had sat you down one night and asked how you felt about everything. You would never tell him he couldn’t do something. Especially because it was his body. Besides, it’s not like it really bothered you.

It didn’t take him long to evolve, creating a camming account that quickly blew up due to his good looks and dominant charisma. The spare bedroom, which had previously been a simple study room, had been turned into a studio for him to film in.

He made good money, becoming one of the top creators on the platform. Things were going very well for a long time, you never really watched his streams either in real life or on the phone. His occupation wasn’t really something you ever thought too much about – he kept everything mostly to himself, never really talked to you about it or anything of the sort.

But one day, you got curious. As any normal girlfriend would.

You sat in your shared bed, the lights dimmed with your phone in your hands. As you tuned in to his stream, you were greeted with a familiar sight. The studio was exactly the same as always and your boyfriend was more than familiar ��� but it still felt so surreal. Like you were an outside looking in, despite the fact that he was just down the hall from you.

You had spent a little while procrastinating, debating on whether you really should watch it or not. Issei had never told you that you couldn’t watch. But he never really encouraged you to either. Truthfully, his career behind that door was sort of a mystery to you.

Due to your back and forth dilemma with yourself, the stream was already well in progress by the time you started watching.

His body was a familiar sight – but it was different seeing it from an outside perspective. Right now, you weren’t his girlfriend. You were a viewer.

His fingers, adorned in metal rings, were wrapped around his thick cock. It made your mouth go dry at the sight. His cock was so pretty, long and thick with a blushing red head that glistened under the ring lights from the dripping precum.

Your gaze fell to the comments, seeing people complimenting him – as could be expected. After all, these were people who were paying for the privilege of watching him stroke his cock.

‘Your cock is so big!’

‘I’d cry trying to take it but I’d still thank you.’

‘His hands look like my favorite necklace.’

A strange feeling settled in your chest as you read all these people’s thoughts on your boyfriend. They gushed about how perfect he was, how amazing his cock was, how much they’d die to be stuffed full by him.

He grinned and laughed, giving flirtatious comments in response to them.

“Yeah? You think you could take my cock?” he chuckles, breath shuddering as he squeezed his length, “I don’t think you could handle it.”

“Ah, I bet you’d be such a good little girl for me,” he whispers, eyes lidded, “You’d cry and take my cock like you’re supposed to, huh?”

As he says these dirty things, the tips continue to rise. The words are familiar as they fall from his lips because they’re things you’re used to hearing.

You’re not sure how to feel knowing he’s talking to these nobodies the same way he talks to you so you click out of the app before the feeling becomes too much. You place your phone down and sigh, feeling your heart ache in jealousy as you replay the recycled words you’d heard him say night after night to you.

You know it’s stupid to feel jealous; it’s his job. He talks that way so he can make money. But it still instills you with an unfamiliar feeling of insecurity. It almost felt like everything he said and did to you wasn’t as special as you thought it was – because he just turned around to say the exact same things to faceless nobodies who paid him.

Issei is the only man you’d ever dated. He was your first boyfriend, your first kiss, and he was the one to take your virginity. You’d never even held hands with anyone else.

But you know he had fucked around a lot before the two of you got together, when you were just a shy, pining little girl for him. Of course he had, there was no way a man like him wouldn’t have girls all over him, feral for the opportunity to sit down on his cock and make him fall in love with her. After all, he’d made a job out of it.

It was never something that made you insecure. Issei never did anything that made you question his feelings or loyalty to you. So jealousy and possessiveness wasn’t a feeling you were familiar with. And you weren’t quite fond of it, you were learning.

You wanted to storm into the studio and sit on his cock, make all of his viewers see that his cock was all yours and they only had the privilege of watching him — put them in their place.

You sat with the negative feelings for the entire night. He finished his stream and took a shower, helped you cook dinner, and you sat on the couch with him as you watched a couple movies together.

He didn’t notice anything different in your demeanor. You weren’t mad at him so you had no reason to be passive aggressive.

But when you crawled into bed that night and laid beside him, tucked against his body, you thought back to all those women who were probably touching themselves to the sight of your boyfriend’s perfect cock and pretty words.

You frowned and tossed your leg over his waist. He looked up from his phone in surprise, a brow raised before he smiled.

“Can I help you with something, babygirl?” he placed his free hand on your bare thigh, stroking the skin gently.

“I wanna ride you,” you demand softly, making him laugh.

“Since when are you so bold?” he teases, locking his phone before tossing it to the side. You pout and push the band of his sweats down to pull his cock free. He reaches out and grabs your wrist with his eyes narrowed, “I think you know better than that, pretty girl. Is that how you ask Daddy for his cock?”

You shrink a bit under his gaze and lower your head, “N-No Daddy…I’m sorry…”

He smiled, “It’s okay, baby. Why don’t you ask politely, hm?”

You swallow thickly and nod, “C-Can I ride your cock, Daddy?”

He licks his lips and relaxes against the pillows with a sigh, “Go ahead and get me hard then, pretty baby.”

It wasn’t a difficult task, just the fact you were so eager for him was enough to have him getting harder by the second. You eagerly spit on his length, using it so aide in the slick movements of your hand as you jerked him off.

“That’s a good girl, fuck,” he breathes, body trembling as he stroke him with practiced ease, “Lift up, sweet girl.”

You do as you’re told, sitting up on your knees, keeping your hand wrapped around his length. He bats your hand away and you pout, but he pays no mind as he instead decides to strip you. He pulls the thin nightshirt you were wearing, dropping it off the side of the bed before sitting up properly to eagerly wrap his lips around your pert nipple.

You whimper, tangling your fingers in his hair as he circles the bud with his tongue. He pulls away for a second, nipping your breast before breathing out, “Are you wet, babygirl?”

You nod, “Yes, please Daddy…I want your cock.”

He clicks his tongue, “You know better than that. Let me see your pretty cunt, hm?”

Your pout deepens but you do as you’re asked and sit between his thighs, pulling your panties off before handing them to him. He hums, thumbing the material to see how wet it is before tossing them away. He looks expectantly at you and you immediately let your legs fall apart.

“Let Daddy see,” he whispers, wrapping his hand around his cock as you reach between your legs to spread your folds apart.

A couple years ago, you would have never been able to do something so lewd. You always felt so embarrassed when he wanted to look at your pussy but you eventually learned how turned on it made him. You still felt shy but you enjoyed the way his cock throbbed when you let him look.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy,” he whispers, grabbing your arms to tug you back into his lap properly, “Fuck, you are wet.”

Your cunt is pressed against the underside of his cock. It’s hot and throbbing against your clit, an addictive feeling that makes you grind against him. He groans, head falling back as you move along, coating him in your juices.

“Can I have your cock now Daddy, please?” you whine but he shakes his head, making you whine.

He pulls you against his chest and slips his hand between your legs, leaning up to press his lips against yours. His fingers circle your clit before prodding your little hole, slipping two inside easily. It stings but it’s a feeling you’ve learned to accept eagerly.

“Let Daddy stretch you out,” he whispers against your lips. You start grinding against his fingers, fucking yourself on the pretty digits as he curses, “Fuck, ride my fingers, pretty girl. Just like that.”

“Daddy…” you sob, head dropping against his shoulder as he curls his fingers, tapping your sweet spot. The stimulation makes you gush and you sob, clenching around him before you reach down to find your clit, “Y-You’re gonna make me cum…”

“I sure am, sweet girl,” he coos, choosing that moment to mercilessly fuck his fingers into your poor little cunt, abusing that tender little spot inside that has you creaming and dripping down his wrist.

A mantra of ‘daddy’ falls from your lips as you cum hard, trembling and sobbing against him as he fucks you through the high. He slows but doesn’t stop until you’re begging him to.

His hand is soaked in your cum and he can’t resist popping his two fingers in his mouth to taste. You suddenly remember the first time he ever did that, the way you squealed indignantly and hid your face in the pillow out of shame. He’d laughed and spent 20 minutes explaining how much he loved it and how he wanted to eat you out so bad now that he got a little taste of your sweet cum.

Before you could fully come down from your high, you reach beneath you and take his cock in your hand. He opens his mouth to speak, probably to stop you or scold you, but before he can, you’re sinking down onto his length. It burns as usual but the fiery pit of jealousy still burns bright and you want him to think of you too. You know it’s silly because there’s no way he’s thinking of faceless girls who comment on his streams but you still feel like you need to lay claim to him.

He’s your boyfriend.

“Jesus, baby,” he moans, his eyes rolling back in his head as you immediately begin bouncing on his cock, “What has you so riled up?”

“You’re mine, right, Daddy?” you pant.

He grips your waist, aiding in your movements as you fuck him like a toy, “Fuck yeah baby. Daddy is all yours. My cock’s all yours.”

You grin at his admission, feeling satisfied. That was all you needed to hear.

He looks at you, having no idea what this behavior was all about. But he had no complaints in the end.

Despite the negative feeling watching his stream had caused you, you continued to watch them. The outcome is always the same; you wind up ending the night staking your claim and making him remind you that he is yours. And he remained more or less ignorant to your behavior.

The night things take a turn is when you tune in to find him in his usual position, fucking his cock into his fist. He’s panting, more of a growl than anything, and muttering things you’d never quite heard before.

“Fuck, this feels so good,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he watched the comments, “I don’t give a shit about a good girl. I want a bratty little girl I can let some steam off on, put her back in her place.”

He grins as the comments fly by, viewers pleading to be that girl for him. Telling him they’d be perfect for him, the best sub he could ever dream of.

“I don’t think you could handle it,” he threatens with a narrowed gaze, “You’d let me slap you around? Let me treat you like filthy little whore? How pathetic.”

You gasp at the harsh, degrading words. Issei had never spoken like that before, it was strange to hear it. You find yourself being thankful you weren’t on the receiving end of that language because you were sure you’d probably end up crying.

“Yeah,” he chuckles again, “I’m sure you’d be such a pretty little brat for me.”

You sit back, his words fluttering around inside your head.

What did he mean he had steam to blow off? Why would he be unsatisfied? Is it because you were too…easy? You never fought him, he always whispered praise and sweet words to you. He’d never called you a name like that before. Is that what he wanted? To call you a dirty slut instead of his sweet girl?

Insecurity festered within you. In fact, you barely even noticed the fact you’d started pulling away. You didn’t consciously realize you were questioning yourself – doubting his attraction to you.

He was at a loss, baffled by your seemingly sudden rejection of him. It was almost as if you kept shying away from him when he tried to touch you – you had never denied him like that. You avoided his gaze in bed, choosing to cling to the bed sheets instead of burying yourself in his chest like you usually do.

Things progressively began to feel more awkward for him. He wasn’t sure if you felt it too, but he started feeling more apprehensive about touching you because he thought you didn’t want him to.

When he stopped trying anything with you, you started to feel even worse. Every insecurity you felt festered more and more until you felt like you were holding back tears just by looking at him. You were convinced, especially now that he crawled into bed with his back to you instead of peppering your face with kisses and slipping his hand down your panties so he could make you cum before bed, that you were no longer what he wanted.

Another night, you were sat curled up in bed. Issei hadn’t even told you he was going to start streaming – the only clue you had was the solid click of the studio door.

So you sat there, curled up in bed, leaning against the headboard with your phone in your hand as you watched him grin at the camera. He read the comments, slowly palming himself over his sweats – one of your favorite pairs that you’d seen him wear.

“I seem tense?” he mused, reading a comment, “I guess so. My cock’s been hard for days,” he tosses his head back and laughs but you can tell it’s not as genuine as it could be.

Guilt eats at you, knowing that you were the reason he was so tense – he wasn’t coming to you to get off anymore.

“Hmm,” he sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You track the way his tongue slips over his bottom lip and his cock twitches visibly beneath the fabric of his pants, making him grunt, “No, I don’t have anyone to take care of my cock,” his words make you shrink in on yourself, tears pricking at your eyes, “Oh, you wanna take care of it, huh? Come here then.”

Something about his words has you jumping to your feet.

The only time you’d ever stepped foot in his studio beyond to clean it every once in a while. Otherwise, it was completely his space that he took care of. So to stand in front of the door, located at the very end of the hall, was strange. Especially since you could hear his muffled voice from within.

Taking a deep breath, you twist the knob and push the door open. Issei jumps from where he’s on the bed, leans forward and hits a button on the keyboard to mute himself before looking at you in confusion.

“What’re you doin’ in here?” his tone was almost curt and for a moment you second guess yourself. He watches you shift awkwardly on your feet and his gaze immediately softens, “Baby, what is it?”

The pet name makes you look up, tears stinging your eyes at the tender look in his eyes. His gaze flashes to the computer for a second before moving back to you.

“I just…” you pause, tugging awkwardly at your oversized t-shirt before blinking your tears away, “Am I…still what you want?”

He blinks, confused for a second before cocking his head. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you can tell the exact moment he realizes what you mean. Clicking his tongue, he holds his hand out, “Is that why you’ve been actin’ like this? Because you thought I didn’t like you anymore?”

You look in confusion at his outstretched hand and take a step forward, “I-I thought…maybe you felt I was too easy a-and you wanted someone brattier.”

He laughs, a genuine one, and you can see his eyes light up when you finally place your hand in his. In the blink of an eye, he’s tugged you into his lap, making you squeal before he’s silencing you with a kiss.

“I think I would go insane with a brat,” he chuckles, “Besides, I love you exactly how you are, my sweet girl, hm?”

You shift where you sit, feeling his cock is still hard beneath you and you bite your lip, “I really missed you.”

“God, I thought you’d never say that,” he whispers, brushing his lips against yours, “Let me just turn the stream off and I’ll make everything up to you, hm?”

You stop him before he can, however, shaking your head, “I…”

He notices the bashful look in your eyes and groans, “Is that how it is, baby? You want everyone to see who owns my cock?”

You eagerly nod and he hisses as you grind your hips against his cock. He leans around you and taps the button again, unmuting himself.

Neither of you waits even a second longer. He holds your hips up, letting you pull his cock free from the confines of his pants as he yanks your shirt over your head, laughing at the way it messes up your hair.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he coos, cupping your breasts, “Prettiest fuckin’ tits, huh, baby?”

You whimper, wrapping your fist around his cock, giving him a few squeezes to make him shudder. You can feel his precum drooling from the head, leaking down to meet your fist so you can stroke it into his skin.

“You’re so hard, Daddy,” you breathe, making him groan as he nods his head, “‘M sorry…”

“Don’t worry at all, pretty baby,” he huffs, thumbing at your nipples as he looks down to watch how you stroke him.

“Can I have your cock, Daddy?” you ask, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

He nods, unable to formulate words. It feels like it had been months since he had last properly felt your slick little cunt around his fat cock. His eyes are lidded, biting his lip as he watches you sit up to slip your panties aside. Neither of you think twice about even looking at the chat to read comments.

Right now, this is about the two of you – about showing everyone that Issei does have someone there to take care of his cock every night. Someone who he adores. And anyone with eyes can see how enamored he is with you.

As you position yourself above his cock, he narrows his eyes at you and with a firm grip to your waist, tosses you onto the bed beside him.

“Daddy!” you squeal, bouncing on the mattress, “Why–”

“You know better than that, babygirl,” he huffs, manhandling you with ease into the position he wants, “Silly of you to think I’d let you take me without prep, hm?”

You purse your lips in a pout but don’t offer a rebuttal, making him laugh as he knows he won. He spreads your legs and knees between them, making a show of stripping himself. As you look to the side, you can see that the two of you are in perfect view of the camera.

You had thought you were going to feel self-conscious with so many people watching you but instead, you feel confident.

Once the both of you are completely bare, he shifts down the bed before laying on his stomach between your spread legs. His large hands cup the underside of your thighs and push them upwards, reveling your glistening little cunt to his view.

“Fuck,” he huffs, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart, “I missed this perfect little cunny, you have no idea. So fuckin’ pretty for me.”

“Please, Daddy,” you whine, tangling your fingers in his curls. The gaze he gives you let you know exactly what he wants and you flush as you whisper, “Please eat my cunt.”

“That’s my good girl,” he sighs, leaning forward to run his tongue between your folds – collecting your slick on his tongue with a groan before swallowing, “So fuckin’ sweet.”

Once he gets that first taste, he wastes no time on going in. His tongue prods at your entrance, making you sigh at the little stretch that it gives before he leans up and finds your clit. His tongue is hot and wet against the sensitive bud, making your whole body twitch at the sensation. When his thumb finds your clit, he pulls the hood back and before you can even blink, his tongue is attacking the sensitive little bud beneath.

You squeal and instinctively kick out, squirming at the overwhelming sensation. He laughs, wrapping his lips around your clit and you sob at the feeling.

“D-Daddy, please!” you whine, “I-It’s too much!”

He hums and finally pulls back, returning his tongue to your little hole. His hand abandons its hold around your thigh in favor of finding your entrance. You hold your breath, looking down to watch as he sinks two fingers in – biting his lip as he keeps his own gaze on the way your little cunt swallows them down.

You spasm where you lay, the feeling of him just barely missing your g-spot nearly painful. You know he’s not doing this to make you feel good but you still can’t help but whine.

“What is it, baby?” he whispers, giving your hard little clit a sweet kiss before his eyes flick up to find yours. “You want Daddy to make you cum before you take my cock?”

You desperately nod, “Yes, please Daddy?”

“Fuck, anything for you, my sweet girl,” he doesn’t waste a second in wrapping his lips around your clit, crooking his fingers expertly to find your sweet spot,

The way Issei can drive you to the edge, to orgasm, is almost terrifying. It takes very little for you to feel your body tensing up. The lewd, slick sounds of his fingers stuffing your cunt along with the way you can see his tongue working over the cute little bud of your clit has you flying over.

Your back arches in the most beautiful way that he loves as you cum with a soft whine of ‘daddy’.

When you finally start pushing him away, he comes up panting. Catching any of your stray slick off of his chin before licking the pad of his thumb clean.

“Pl-Please, Daddy,” you whine, reaching out to wrap your hand around his cock, “C-Can you put it in now?”

“Fuck,” he groans, letting you direct his cockhead to your entrance, which was still spasming in the aftershocks of your orgasm, “Yeah, pretty baby, ‘s all yours.”

“All mine?” you giggle, gasping as he begins to press into your tender cunt.

“My cock’s all yours, fuck,” he groans, making sure the viewers can catch what he says.

It makes you flush and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. The change in closeness makes his cock sink even deeper inside you and you moan in his ear as he quickly bottoms out.

Usually, he takes his time and lets you adjust. But this time, both of you are so needy for each other that you can’t resist grinding your hips up to rock yourself against his cock. He hisses, taking the hint quickly and easily.

He pulls his hips back only to swiftly roll them forward again, sheathing his cock back into your spasming little cunt. His eyes are locked on his cock and the way your pussy swallows him over and over again – he can’t sink all the way in but you take most of him and he loves the sight of it.

Your precious little cunt creams so beautifully around him, coating him in translucent, milky white every time he pulls out. You’re moaning and whimpering for him so beautifully that it makes his hips falter every once in a while.

“Daddy!” you squeal, finally releasing your hold around his neck, “Please, make me cum again!”

“Yeah, baby? You need Daddy to make this pretty pussy cum?” he huffs, moaning when you nod and eagerly spread yourself open for him by hooking your arms around your knees and pulling them back.

He rests his hand on your pelvic bone, stretching his thumb down to circle at your twitching, excited little clit as he continues to stuff your cunt nice and full. You claw and cling to the sheets desperately and he can’t help but cup your bouncing breasts with his free hand.

“C’mon, pretty baby, cum for me,” he huffs, licking his lips as you gush around his cock, “Lemme feel this pretty cunny cum.”

You sob for him, back arching as you cling to his arm as he continues to grope and tease your tit. He feels your pussy clench desperately around him as you finally cum.

“That’s a good girl!” he praises, “That’s it, just like that. Keep cummin’ for me, I’m almost there.”

“Please, Daddy, gimme your cum!” you cry, your nails biting into his skin but neither of you notice as he reaches his high as well.

His balls throb and he groans, his body slumping over yours as he gives a few more, lazy thrusts of his hips as he spilled his cum into your vulnerable cunt.

The both of you finally fall still, panting and sharing soft kisses as he smiles and whispers promises of love. The sound of donation chimes on his computer finally draws you out of it and he sits up, pulling out of you.

He bites his lip, his cock twitching at the sight of your cunt drooling a mixture of yours and his cum before he moves to the end of the bed.

He doesn’t even spare a glance at the comments or donation total before turning the stream off. When it’s officially just the two of you, he crawls closer to you and pulls you into his arms with a side, giving the top of your head a kiss.

You know that you’re going to have to talk more about everything, but you both know that can wait at least until morning.

seita © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost.

[bokugaos]

msby main 5! strapping you to a sybian <33

tw — gangbang, sybian, restraints, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, facefucking, gagging, blow jobs (m. receiving)

your chest is heaving as you calm down from another orgasm. how many times have they pushed your body to the edge? you’re.. you’re not sure anymore.

it is difficult to focus on it when all you have to go on is the spasming of your muscles which haven’t quite stopped around the third time they were teased into contracting until you bit your tongue almost bloody.

your thighs are shaking, trying to push against the bonds keeping you on the infernal thrumming seat, but you’re weak. you can’t do anything but have your whole weight on the sybian, pushing the vibe in deeper. its humming against you is making you go cross-eyed. it is aching now. definitely aching.

“p… please stop.. it’s enough, right?” you try. you don’t talk back to them most of the time and there is no use in getting upset now. they have been ignoring all your pleadings since you were woken up by your first orgasm.

you think it was your first. you’re not so sure anymore.

you’re not sure how they even managed to drag you from your bedroom to wherever this is without you being aware of anything.

they have their face turned towards you but are not reacting one way or another. you’re not sure they are even listening to you. meian has a remote in his fist with which he uses to manipulate the speed and intensity of the toy you are sitting on, but he hasn’t changed anything in a while.

as your muscles start failing you, you are forced to sit on the base of the vibe they pushed into your asshole, making it vibrate with the sybian. you feel yourself going cross-eyed, your belly muscles clenching pathetically as all those sweet little nerves in your entrance are being stimulated.

you’re not used to this. not at all.

bokuto likes to stick his cock up your ass every once in a while as atsumu’s got you bouncing on his cock or when you’re riding his face, but...

shit. you can already feel another one coming. your toes are curling to the point of spasming muscle pains. you try to gather yourself enough to regain some control over your thighs, but there is nothing to be done about it. your body is failing you.

someone moves. you raise your head by a mere inch, just enough to see sakusa come closer towards you.

you stare at him with teary eyes as you start sagging to one side on the saddle you’re strapped on. there’s no way for you to slip off this infernal thing.

you watch as sakusa begins to open his pants, his cock springing free, which he shows off to you. he curls a hand around it and gives it a few pumps, the slick red head is pointed right at your face.

he waits for a moment, as if to give you some time to take in the beauty of his dick after leaving you all alone with the sybian for this long, then reach out and fist fingers in your hair.

you are pulled forward, and you open your mouth without a token protest. tears are at the corners of your eyes as you look up at his torso, your own body on fire as you try to fight against yet another orgasm. you hiccup noisily with the cock still in your mouth, your fingers flexing and clenching into tight, big fists again.

it’s a fucking sight, it is, watching sakusa feed his thick cock into your mouth, and watching your eyelashes flutter in contentment and your pussy gushing some more.

about a half an hour ago, you may have still had a chance of getting into heaven. that has officially gone out of the window.

sakusa is staring down at you without expression. there is no sound coming forth. no reaction. you suckle and play your tongue across the tip, but he is simply staring down at him, not moving one way or another, letting you fuck your mouth on his cock while you try so very hard not to come.

you’ve taken as much of sakusa’s cock as you can into your mouth, but he’s still barely showing you any reaction. instead, he motions for hinata to come closer. and once the latter is kneeling next to you, he takes his hand and presses it to your abdomen and pushes down, forcing you at a different angle.

your eyes fly open and you groan around sakusa’s cock, grinding your hips down on the rubber dick in earnest now.

“good girl,” the curly-haired murmurs, almost absentmindedly. you catch the way hinata’s cock twitches at that, although the man is focused on seeing your eyes water up, whether it’s from the cock in your throat or the praise, he doesn’t know.

you keen in the back of your throat and sakusa throws his head back at the vibrations it sends up his shaft.

he loses control of his hips for a moment and thrusts shallowly into your mouth. your knuckles go whiter where they’re gripped onto the sybian.

“should we turn the speed up?” hinata says, voice lower than you’ve heard it in a while.

sakusa looks down and nods right as you hear atsumu chimes in, “yeah? i bet she’s gonna like that.”

you look up through your eyelashes, tears streaming down the sides of your face. god, you’re a sight like this, with your mouth stuffed full of cock and holding onto the vibrating machine like your life fucking depends on it. you look desperate and like you will come any minute. you keep yourself awake as best you can and take sakusa down further as if to emphasize it.

spit and precum drip off your chin and onto the machine you’re straddling every time you move your tongue, trying your best to make sakusa come even though you fear you might lose all control of your body once you reach another climax. and you’re so close.

you feel like you’re not going to live through another orgasm.

the machine slows down and your eyes roll to the back of your head, momentarily satiated. sakusa steps away, and you use this opportunity to catch your breath, until you realize with a jerk that you have to try to move away. the machine keeps buzzing on a low hum beneath you. your skin is damp with sweat as hinata strokes over the curve of your thigh and runs his fingers through the thatch of your curls with a smile. "you must be so sensitive right now."

your mouth curves in an exhausted smile in hopes of igniting pity in him as you shift on the sybian, trying and failing to lessen the stimulation.

and then meian kicks the dial, turning it to full power.

your eyes fly open and your mouth opens in a violent scream. your back bow dramatically and you come in an instant, continually making loud, wailing noises somewhere between screams and cries. it looks like someone reaches inside you and pulls the few weak spurts of cum out of you. it looks painful.

you’re whimpering and crying, cunt still gushing, but you manage to speak. “n-no… more, p-please..!” your words are incredibly slurred and you can’t open your eyes, but you’re conscious enough to form a sentence. you sob, moving weakly on the rubber cock still buried inside your ass like you can’t help it.

even after what you just said, you still seem to want it, that or your body isn’t even listening to your brain anymore.

you’re positively sobbing, but they’ve never seen you this desperate, it seems hypnotizing.

you’re a writhing mess, looking like you want nothing more than to just fucking come so they’ll stop. actually, that curling in your stomach is eerily familiar.

“alright, my turn,” bokuto says, and at the sound of his voice you drag your eyes open and manage to tilt your head downward to hide yourself. bokuto is standing over you with his hips to your face, and his cock is a fucking mess, red and twitching, coated in cum and precum.

he softly cards his fingers through your hair. you look up at him through your lashes, and tears webbed in them that catches the light. he pitches his hips forward, getting you even messier than you already are as you slobber all over his cock.

you moan in frustration, a distressed sound. you probably can’t even feel the vibrations at this setting after how long you’ve been on it by now. you’re crying in earnest, not just tears from taking bokuto’s cock but actual, real, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

sweat drips down your chest and mixes with the now dried cum on your lower abdomen. you’re in absolute hysterics, bucking down on the light vibrations like you want to get away, and you keep chanting pleas for them to show you mercy, and you’re not even sure if you want them to.

“one more, sweet girl, you’re gonna be so good for us,” meian decides, moving for the dial and turning it up again, notch by notch.

it is all an uphill battle, of course. one you are destined to lose. you sob when your aching body starts spasming once more, your hole clenching around the unfamiliar thick presence spreading you open, body convulsing and out of your control as tears stream down your cheeks and the air freezes in your lungs.

your back curves the opposite direction, sending you hunching forward. your scream is muffled, sweat drips down your face and the side of your mouth, which is still stretched around bokuto’s cock. meian turns the dial once more, and then a final time. you squeak, like there’s so much pressure in your lungs that’s all that could escape, your entire body is twitching violently.

you think bokuto is at least pulling his cock out of your throat for the duration. you’re not entirely sure. everything goes dark around him as you spasm in your orgasm.

[letarasstuff]

Unbreakable Bond

(A/N): This is based on this post and this tiktok

Summary: A big age gap between Aaron's children doesn't have to mean that they are unable to form a strong bond

Warnings: Mentions of Haley's death and failed relationships

Wordcount: 1.8k

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________________

His life took turns Aaron never expected. It’s not the “Oh, mh, well that was unexpected”-type of turns, I talk about the “God played Cards Against Humanity with angels and decided to make it happen for someone”-type. But looking back he would not want to change a thing.

After Haley and Beth he was convinced that God, the Universe, something out there shared the opinion that romantic love isn’t the right thing for him and Aaron accepted that fact. Even more when he and Jack went into witness protection. I mean, when you are worried about the life of your family being in danger because of a stalker, you don’t think about the beautiful neighbor, who lives next door, right? Right?

Well, without going into too much detail, Hotch did think about her and she about him and vice versa. Everything went good until Aaron received the message that the team found the stalker and that it was safe to come back. He decided to come clean to his girlfriend. They talked about the possibility of moving back to Quantico.

In the end they decided in favor of the move, the final argument was the surprising announcement of her being pregnant. Hotch wants to raise their youngest where his and Jack’s roots are located. But he decides against taking a position at the BAU, instead taking a desk job in order to be more at home. He also has the opportunity to work from home after little (Y/N) was born and continues to do so until she is old enough to go to Kindergarten. Even then he takes two days the week where he stays home. Aaron learned from his decisions and mistakes he made in the past and wants to live up to them and be a better father and husband than before.

And Hotch keeps it to this day, six years later. It’s (Y/N)’s first day of school, while Jack just graduated high school and goes off to college in a few weeks. Even though they have an age gap from twelve and a half years, their parents are sure there are no other siblings with such a strong bond.

Ever since his baby sister’s birth Jack is her biggest supporter, protector and friend. Her first word was his name, though it was more of a “ACK!”, but that’s the best nickname he ever got. As soon as (Y/N) was old enough to comprehend the concept of movies, he introduced her to Star Wars. Since then lightsaber wars out of cardboard pipes are not uncommon. Last Halloween they even dressed up as Chewbakka and Han Solo. You get three guesses on who was who.

“JACK!” (Y/N) runs into her big brother’s room with an excited expression on her face. “Daddy promised to buy me a real lightsaber after I read ten books! With lights and sounds and all! Isn’t that cool?” Jack smiles. Aaron did a similar thing with him. For a certain amount of books he got a reward they discussed beforehand. This way he felt motivated to read and improved writing and reading skills.

“This is awesome. I think that means we have to go book shopping together, what do you think?” (Y/N) is not only the cool kid that has an older brother, she is also the cool kid, whose older brother has a drivers license, a car and a part time job. She nods with big eyes, speechless, because the offer sounds like heaven to her. Getting books and one on one time with Jack after he was really busy with school for weeks? This has to be heaven.

“Ok, then you put your outside clothes on and I’ll tell Dad about our plan.” At that the little girl rushes to her room, not wanting to waste any more time. Jack makes his way down to the kitchen, where Aaron wipes the table from lunch down.

“Dad, I take (Y/N) to this bookstore in DC and we’ll probably go eat ice cream after that. Is that alright?” Hotch looks up at his son. It still feels like yesterday as he told Haley that Gideon is a big no as a baby name. Now he is all grown up and just a few weeks away from the next big chapter in his life.

“Of course, just let me get my wall-” Jack cuts him off. “No need, I want to use this as a kind of goodbye thing. At least until Thanksgiving.” Aaron knows what he means. It’s his last day before he goes off to college and just a couple more until the first classes begin. The family still hasn’t told their youngest exactly what’s going on. Else she would refuse to go to school and go on with her day, insisting on using all the time they have until Jack drives off.

Two hours later the siblings leave the bookstore, both of them having a bag in their hands. Of course Jack's heavier, but both he and the cashier assured (Y/N) that they lift the same amount of weight.

“Uncle Spence will be excited when I tell him that I read Harry Potter, he told me so many good things about it”, the girl gushes. Jack nods, indicating that he is listening. Of course they also picked books that are not that advanced. Still, no sister of his shall grow up without knowing the beauty of the wizarding world. Also, secretly he is hoping for her to turn out as nerdy as he is so they get more things to talk about. His next step is superheroes, especially the Marvel ones.

They converse until they get to an ice cream parlor and order both their usuals. “Do you think you are ready for me to tell you something important?” The older one asks after they sit down at a table. (Y/N) nods, confusion taking over her face.

“Uhm, you know how I graduated from high school? I’m done with school, but I want to get a degree, but for that I have to go to college. It’s pretty far away so I can’t come home for a few months. But I’m back home when Thanksgiving is and also for Christmas.” It doesn’t matter what Jack says, a sad frown has formed on the little one’s face. “Oh. And after Christmas, will you leave again?” He nods and explains when he is off from college and when not.

“We can always skype and write letters. How does that sound? And when you get your first phone, we can even text.” That (Y/N) lights up a bit. For her first year of school she got a stationary set and is eager to use it to this day.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, she says hugging her big brother. Jack pats her back. “I’ll miss you, too.”

The goodbye the next day is a heartfelt matter. Everybody cries, especially (Y/N). She can’t fathom a scenario where her brother isn’t there for her all the time.

The following weeks are also hard for the family. The youngest refuses to sleep alone for the first three days after Jack’s leave. She is more closed off and mainly just does her school work or reads the books he bought for her. By the time Thanksgiving is only away for another two weeks, (Y/N) has read through all of them at least two times.

Her father already ordered the lightsaber he promised her. Unfortunately shipping takes several months, so the little girl still has to wait patiently for her reward to arrive. In the meantime she works on getting the next and she is already pretty close to the comic book collection she wants.

“Sweetheart, can you set the table, please? Your Mom will be here soon from grocery shopping and she will need help getting them from the car into the house”, Hotch calls for his daughter while stirring in a pot.

The little girl nods, putting her stationary set and pens aside to do as her father asked. She is in the middle of answering her brother’s last letter, telling him that she is now the one that usually has to read aloud for the class because of her advanced skill for a first grader.

Just as she sets the last piece of silverware down the doorbell rings. “Sweetie, can you please open it? This should be your mother.” Happily (Y/N) runs up and turns the door knob. Over the last few months she hit a small growing spurt and is finally tall enough to reach it without standing on her tippy toes.

“Mo-” She nearly chokes on her own saliva. The one at the door is definitely not her mother. “JACK!” (Y/N) runs up to him and jumps onto his leg. “Hey Princess. I thought now that you read your books, we need to hold the most amazing lightsaber fight in history.” With a mischievous smile he pulls two from his back, giving one to his baby sister.

It is the most epic fight in history between an elementary schooler and a college boy. They can only be stopped by their parents announcing that it is a tie between both of them and that they have to sit down, else the food gets cold.

The following weeks mostly consist of (Y/N)’s joyous laughs and cuddling with her big brother. She even insists on him sleeping with her in her much smaller bed. On his last night before going back to college, the little girl turns to him in the middle of watching her favorite movie in the living room.

“Do you promise not to forget me when you are away? Because I alway think about you and tell my friends so much about you. I told them you are a hero, my hero, just like Daddy. They wanna meet you because of that.” Jack has to hold back tears at her statement.

“I also think of you so much. All of my friends at college are pretty jealous of me having such a sweet baby sister. Maybe one time you can visit me and I can introduce you to them.” The thought of that makes (Y/N) smile and is a little consolation to the thought of her brother leaving again.

Aaron watches the interaction going down, happy to see the strong bond between his children, despite their age gap. This is nothing like he and Sean were and that is a relief for him and the worries he had in the beginning. It is a sign that he did do some things right as a father.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos @jswessie187

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

[libertys-lovers]

The hell?!? I don’t remember the Valentine’s Day episode being like this!?

…

AKA: Here’s a look into how Dramatics officially started!

—

I was originally gonna explain this as a fic… but I did not have enough time for that BAJSNDJD- So instead I’m just gonna gush about it!

Basically, Freedom didn’t want the Matsuno brothers to have a complete meltdown from not getting chocolates on Valentine’s Day, so she decided that she’d be the one to get them something. But alas, Freedom had her own personal struggles arise from this. She had been crushing on Karamatsu for a looooooonnnnnngg time, and while she knew this would be a PERFECT opportunity to confess her love to him, she also didn’t want his brothers to get jealous about him getting a confession (and, let’s be real, she didn’t want an audience in case it fell flat). She fretted over whether or not she should confess, but eventually she gritted her teeth and came up with a master plan.

She went to deliver the chocolates to the brothers, but she left Karamatsu’s gifts at home. She pretended that she forgot Karamatsu’s, and she asked him to visit her beach-house later in the day so she could give it to him. He complied, & was eventually presented with a fancy-ass box of chocolates & roses. And so, Freedom confessed, telling him about just how long she’s adored him and rambling about all her favorite attributes of him.

All Kara could do was stand and listen; every sense of his was going numb by the sheer shock of it all. Freedom recognized this, and added that it was completely okay if he didn’t reciprocate. Kara threw that sentiment out the window immediately, as he cut her off and began expressing just how honored he was.

But Freedom had one concern; what if Karamatsu was only agreeing as a way to graduate from being single, rather than agreeing because he liked her genuinely? This was a point she hesitantly asked about, & it was another point he shot down instantly. Sure, he was ECSTATIC about not being a lonely lil man anymore, but he was so grateful that it was her that pulled him out of it.

And with that, the two were officially dating… and the brothers instantly had a new target among them to bully, because they followed him there and saw the entire thing BSKEKFKF

[midgardianweasley]

Your grace! Bless us with a Natasha x reader where the team is invited to a wedding by a close friend of Tony’s. Then when the bridal bouquet is thrown, the bride throws it too hard where reader accidentally catches it and the team is just going “Oooooh!” And reader is like “I’m not even in a relationship!” But the team know in secret that reader and Natasha have feelings for each other but are too dumb to know. Just funniness and fluff! 🥰😍 (Your writing is brilliant btw!)

I loved this request!! I hope i did it justice <3

it’s a wedding thing

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

^idk Nat, you tell me^

Summary: When the Avengers get invited to a close friend of Tony's wedding, what hidden feelings will surface? What relationships will bloom? Who will be the next bride?

Warnings: none!

word count: 4.1k

Message/ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

requests are open loves

“Alright gang, this one’s for all of us, we all listening?”

A cluster of ‘yes’ ‘go on’ ‘come on Tony’ filled the room, everyone eager to hear what the fancy envelope held inside. It was amusing to watch Tony take advantage of everyone’s excitement, slowly peeling the envelope, gasping when he pulled the letter out of the casing slightly, not letting anyone else see what was written on it.

You, Natasha and Wanda all seemed to share a look of amusement at the dramatics and the almost visible frustration coming off of everyone. It was like watching children try to wait patiently for sweets in a shop, almost completely off of their seats. It wasn’t until Tony noticed that Pepper was giving him a warning look, that he, begrudgingly, hurried up and announced what was written on the letter.

“Wow. Caleb’s getting married.” He spoke, eyebrows raised in surprise. “And he’s invited the team.”

“Well, I’m not going.” A voice spoke from the corner of the room, clearly un-amused by what was currently going on.

“Luckily for you, I don’t see ‘reindeer games’ anywhere on the invitation. So you’re off the hook.” He replied with a tight lipped smile, Thor had been visiting recently to see Jane and pay the avengers a visit and wanted to bring Loki to meet her.

‘A pleasant trip’ Thor said.

‘A living hell’ Tony corrected.

It got a laugh out of the team though. Nat and I especially. We’d spent the last couple of nights in each other’s bedrooms, making a list about our favourite moments through the day where Tony and Loki clashed, making stupid insults towards the other. I think it’s safe to say that we went through multiple bags of popcorn over the nights, though you were both thankful it was there, it was the only thing muffling the laughter, if it hadn't, you’re almost certain the entire compound would have woken up at the sound of our laughter.

You nudged Natasha’s side gently, the bicker between the two men still continuing.

“Hey, Nat.” She turned and tilted her head questioningly.

“So we know how a physical fight between those two worked out. But, if they had to compete in a rap battle, who do you think would win?”

Her face immediately lit up, eyes sparkling which only enhanced their beauty, you could almost feel the cogs turning in her head, trying to go through every logical option.

“Well. Loki seems pretty well spoken, so vocabulary wise, I think he’d be strong. But Tony is sarcastic which can help with quick quips. But then again, Loki-”

“Hey lovebirds, Romanoff, Y/L/N” Tony clicked his fingers, earning himself a pair of eyerolls at the term he’d used. “Anything you wanna share with the team, or can we move on?”

“Actually-”

“Overridden. Moving on.”

You looked towards Natasha, snickering slightly at how blunt he’s being, Loki having found his way under his skin again. A part of you felt bad for the man, but that feeling is soon replaced by amusement. It was obvious Nat felt the same way, her sharing the same expression as you, although, you could hide yours much better. She had to physically put her hand over her mouth in the hopes the man wouldn’t notice her.

“So, the wedding is next week, a little short notice but when do we ever have enough notice, who’s in?”

Looking around the room, there were a handful of nods, each looking to see who else was going to go. You looked towards Nat again to see if she was planning on attending, only to find her already staring at you.

“So Y/L/N, up for a wedding?”

“It would be a nice change of pace. Are you going?”

“Only if you are” You blushed slightly at the response.

“Better get your nicest dress on Romanoff.” You winked, her turn to blush and focus back on what the rest of the group was saying.

“It’s probably easy if I list couples first on the RSVP and then the singles.” Tony took a glance around the table, mentally taking note of those who had shown signs of agreement. “So there’ll be Wanda and Vision, Legolas and his wife, Romanoff and Y/L/N, Thor and Jane-” You felt your face morph into one of confusion.

“Woah woah, Tony, back up, what did you say?”

“Thor and Jane, they’re-”

“Before that.”

“I’ve said this before Y/N, Legolas isn’t actually real. I meant Clint.”

“Very funny.” He held a proud smirk. “Romanoff and I aren’t a couple”

You wish.

“That’s not what Rogers said when he saw you both cuddling up on the sofa last night.” Before you had a chance to look in Steve’s direction, you could practically feel the daggers Nat was sending him, making his face cringe slightly and his back straighten.

“That’s what Rogers said, is it?” She spoke, tilting her head in question. You knew she was partly joking, but you’d still decided to intervene before anyone lost any limbs.

“My head fell onto her shoulder when I dozed off during our movie. It wasn’t ‘cuddling’ , thank you very much.” You laughed, internally wishing that Steve’s words were true.

“See? So cut it out.” Steve put his hands up in surrender, despite having a cheeky grin on his face.

“Okay okay. Fine!” The billionaire said, writing something on the envelope. “I’ll just put ‘couple pending’” He muttered

“Stark!”

__________________________

You and the girls had just come back from dress shopping, all three of you had spent the whole day in and out of different shops, hours in dressing rooms and your voices were almost completely gone with how often you were telling each other, ‘that looks stunning’ ‘that’s the one!’ and the most common one by the end of the trip; ‘please just pick a dress so we can go home and nap’. That one was from our very own black widow, her patience wore a little thin after 8 hours of staring at dresses.

You had gone through all the colours and styles while you were out, ranging from classy jumpsuits to figure hugging dresses that felt like a second skin. Wanda and Natasha had chosen their dresses and were eager to find you one, and what a mission that was.

“I promise you, we’re not going home until we find this dress, okay?”

“Wanda’s right. We’ll stay out until they all shut if we have to. But, let’s make that a last resort.” Natasha eyed you both warily.

You’d been walking around for hours now. Each dress you tried on had potential, but there was always something that didn’t sit right with you. It was either too baggy, too tight, the cut wasn’t appealing, the length wasn’t ideal, it was starting to feel hopeless. You’d even suggested just going in your pyjamas, but Wanda’s death glare had made it clear that wasn’t an option.

You and Natasha were both dragging your feet, Wanda still having a slight spring in her step as you walked into the final shop and picking up a couple of dresses before then going into the dressing room to try them on.

The first two were okay, but you weren’t a fan. Then there was the third one. The third one was a gorgeous Y/F/C dress that fell just past your knees, it had thin straps and the skirt was simple and loose so that when you spun around in it, you felt like a princess. You looked in the mirror and you adored the reflection, you still wanted the others opinions though, though you didn’t doubt that they’d feel the same way.

Pulling the curtain back and gaining their attention from where they were looking elsewhere, you smiled when you saw their reaction, more specifically, Natasha’s. Wanda was complimentary, walking up and feeling the fabric, gushing about how beautiful you looked, but you barely heard it, too focused on the redhead sitting in front of you, her eyes glazed over and her jaw almost on the floor, completely zoned out on you.

“This dress is it, Y/N, you have to get it! Nat? What do you think?” Her head shook, bringing herself back to reality and briefly meeting your eyes, only to quickly dart between You, Wanda and your dress in an attempt to compose herself.

“Yeah, I mean, wow, you look- wow.” Her hands flailed in your direction. You’d knocked the assassin speechless. Wanda rolled her eyes playfully at the interaction. She’d known about you and Nat’s feelings for each other for a month or two now, silently cursing the both of you when there was an opportunity to confess, yet never did. It was obvious to the rest of the team, why were neither of you picking up on it?

Keeping quiet, she ushered you back into the changing room, much to Natasha’s relief, both because she wanted to head back to the compound and she wasn’t sure how much longer she would’ve lasted seeing you standing there looking literally flawless. She always thought you looked amazing, but there was something about the way you looked in front of her just then that made her brain feel like a haze.

It was pretty safe to say,

You bought the dress.

Collapsing on your bed, dropping your bags to the side and letting out a loud sigh, you heard your door shut and someone fall into the chair by the window. You already knew who it was.

“I’m exhausted.” The woman groaned, rubbing her hands up and down her face to attempt to physically remove the tiredness from her body.

“Sorry for dragging you around for so long, I just-”

“Hey, no, don’t apologise for that. We all said we’d find the perfect dress, and it was worth the wait.” Heat rose to your cheeks at her words.

“You really think I looked good?”

Natasha could sense your underlying tone of doubt, unsure as to why you would doubt her opinion, she’d always been honest with you. Nonetheless, she heaved herself out of her seat and made her way to the end of the bed, kneeling down so that your now sat up figure could look down into her eyes, with her hands on each side of your face to focus you on her and her alone.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, okay? You looked incredible and I'm sure you’ll look even better at this wedding on Saturday, if that’s even possible.” You let out a small chuckle at her words as a smile made its way onto her face.

“You’ll be the prettiest one there.”

“Better not tell the Bride you said that, Nat.” She laughed, looking down for only a few seconds before looking at you again.

“We’ll make that our secret.” You nodded in silent agreement, grateful that she’d made you feel so reassured.

“Thank you, Tasha.”

“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart.” She replied.

You were so lost in her words, you hadn’t realised how close her face had gotten to yours, and how her eyes swapped between your eyes and your lips. You didn’t realise how she subconsciously had kept edging towards you, hands trembling a little with every inch closer she gets.

She wanted to kiss you. Every nerve in her body was almost electrified with the temptation to just move her lips over yours and become one. Her pulse raced, almost to prepare her for doing so. Which is why she wanted to kick herself with a pair of her highest heels when she uttered her next words.

“We should get some sleep.”

You broke out of your trance, jumping backwards slightly when noticing limited space between you both. You awkwardly coughed as she stood, heading back over to her chair to grab her bag and return to her room.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Big today, rest is probably a good idea.” You both nodded, she was already one foot out of the door when she gave you a small ‘goodnight’ and left, not waiting to hear you say it back.

Just like you hadn’t realised her actions early, you were oblivious to her hitting her head off of the wall in the corridor just outside of your room, wondering why she’d backed away. Where was Thor’s hammer when you needed to knock some sense into yourself? She thought before dragging herself back to her room where she would fall asleep, unable to get you out of her head.

_________________________

“Right! Headcount before we go in! And I want us all on our best behaviour Avengers, this is a wedding” Steve had completely lost you after ‘Headcount’. Not only are most of you fully grown adults, sorry Peter, but he seems to be oblivious to the fact that some of you were wearing high heels, and patience in high heels had an expiry date.

“Y’know, if he doesn’t let us in soon, I’m not afraid to threaten him with his own shield.” You heard a whisper just behind your ear, smirking at the comment.

“I’ll join you.” You answered, Bruce and Clint sharing a knowing look from afar when watching the two of you have your own quiet conversation, though short lived when they saw Natasha’s head move in their direction, their gaze coming to a halt so as to avoid any conflict with their teammate.

You guys could try to hide it all you want, but your entire team knows better than that, they just had to wait it out until you both finally admitted it to the other.

______________________

You and the Avenger’s were currently sitting at a guest table, now in the reception part of the evening. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride wore a crisp white ball gown with her makeup and hair done to perfection, the groom looking like a prince in his black tux and a look full of adoration towards his wife to be painted on his face.

Their looks weren’t the best part of it though. The clothes and the accessories were lovely, of course. But all you could focus on was the love shared between them as they shared their vows telling the other how they believed they were each other's soulmate, and that they promised to always be the other’s rock. You’d found yourself with tears in your eyes, barely able to appreciate the sight with how blurry your vision was now. They finally fell when they said their ‘I do’s’, feeling only happiness for the newlyweds.

Although marriage hadn’t been something you always thought about, you’d hoped that you would meet your special someone and settle down, retire from the missions, the battles, the superhero lifestyle and just be with your soulmate for the rest of your days.

Despite not being a couple, whenever you thought of the person you wanted to spend the rest of your time with, there was only one person that came to mind. And she stood right in front of you throughout the ceremony, comforting a sobbing demi-god while he was also trying to explain to Vision why he was in floods of tears.

Music filled the room, upbeat, but calm enough for the couples on the dancefloor to sway gently to the beat, soft lights occasionally shining on them as they danced, the bride and groom being one of them. You smiled gently at the sight, feeling dreadfully single with all of the love in the room, but grateful that you could see so many people look so content and in love with their significant other.

An elbow could suddenly be felt in your side, pulling you from your thoughts to instead be met with gorgeous green eyes and a bold red smirk.

“Penny for your thoughts?” She leaned in, curiosity clouding her mind.

“Nothing much up there really.” You glanced back at the dance floor quickly. “I’m just happy to see everyone so happy.”

Natasha followed your direction of where you were looking, an idea soon popped into her head. She was going to ask you to dance.

Her mouth opened to speak, but as if it was done on purpose, a ‘screech’ echoed in the ballroom, catching everyone’s attention, including taking yours away from hers.

“We’re taking a break from dancing for a minute folks, It’s time for the bride to throw the bouquet!” He announced, soon followed by shrieks and the sound of feet padding on the wooden floor, women all gathering in a small bunch, huddled together as if their lives depended on it as the men all returned to their seats, shaking their heads at the commotion.

Not really wanting to take part, you turned back around again.

“Sorry Nat, what were you-”

“Y/N!” Your head fell as you were interrupted by a very excited Maximoff.

“Y/N! C’mon! We need to do the bouquet toss!” She started to pull you up, refusing to listen to any excuse you could possibly conjure up to avoid having to take part.

Giving the team a desperate look, hoping someone will help you escape, you’re instead met with encouraging and amused faces, including Natasha’s a clear indication that not a single person was going to help you. Traitor’s.

With a half serious eye roll, you quickly grabbed your glass of champagne and kicked off your heels, heading towards the group of screaming women basically crawling on top of one another when the bride was barely up on the ‘stage’ yet. You let Wanda wander off into the group but remained towards the back, sipping from your glass and sending the occasional sneaky glare towards your table.

“You guys ready?” The bride yelled, only to be met with more screams and a faint chorus of ‘yes’ heard among it as they all threw their hands higher. Wanda saw you were just stood there, and subtly used her powers to raise your hand, earning loud laughs and cheers from the Avengers, taking great joy in the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Okay! Three...Two..”

You kept your arm up, pretending to be enthusiastic about the toss, when you realistically didn’t really expect much from these kinds of traditions. What you definitely hadn’t expected, was for your figure to stumble backwards as you suddenly felt petals and stems in your palm, a faint feeling of silk brushing against your thumb as your fingers wrapped around the item.

You almost spat out your champagne, eyes widening in shock as you looked to see the arrangement of flowers in your grip, looking up to see women both disheartened and elated at your catch. How the hell had you managed that? You were literally the farthest person away, and on your own! You must’ve been set up. Okay, a bit of a stretch, but still!

“WOOO, Y/L/N IS GETTING MARRIED!”

“WHO’S THE LUCKY SOMEONE Y/N?”

“Y/N CAUGHT THE FLOWERS, Y/N CAUGHT THE FLOWERS.”

The bride noticeably laughed at your friend’s cheers, she hadn’t meant to throw it that far back, her arm just kinda went full force, but seeing the reaction it caused, she didn’t regret it. She didn’t even regret it when she saw the look of embarrassment on your face, as it was soon replaced with a contagious beam as you walked towards them again, a very proud Wanda in tow,

“Guys! Guys! I’m not even in a relationship! I highly doubt i’m the next woman in this room to get married.” You joked

“Well, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Sam laughed “Romanoff, you got an engagement ring handy?” He yelped as a peanut from the centre of the table was thrown at him, and of course with being a trained assassin, Nat had hit him right in the centre of his forehead, earning a dramatic noise of pain to leave his mouth.

These guys will be the death of you.

__________________

After some teasing, the room had filled once again with happy couples dancing, now including some you were very familiar with, one being a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist and his CEO wife, and another being an Asgardian with his Midgardian girlfriend, both gently moving side to side in time with the music.

Letting out a content sigh, you were met once again with the flowers, however, this time, they weren’t on the table, but were held by a gorgeous woman in a flawless navy dress.

“So, I know we aren’t a couple, but, would the future bride like to dance?” She asked, you let out a content sigh, pretending to think it over for a minute.

“Y’know what, I would, thank you for your kind offer.” You took the hand she’d held out for you and led you to the dance floor. While her hands went to your waist, gently tugging you closer, your arms went around her neck, hands interlocking behind her as you, like the others you’d admired all even, swayed.

You’re unsure when it happened, much like a time before, but your head had made its way onto your dance partner's shoulder, your body following suit as it left no room between the two of you, though you weren’t complaining. Neither was the fellow Avenger.

It was peaceful for a period of time, the only sound being the slow music and a quiet chatter of people across the floor. It wasn’t long before you heard the red head above you whisper in your ear once again.

“You really do look amazing tonight, Y/N.” You raised your head so it was directly opposite hers, sending her an appreciative gaze.

“That future fiance of yours is lucky.” She winked.

“Hilarious” You scoffed, fully aware of her humorous tone.

“I know, sometimes I amaze even myself with my jokes.”

“Well, it really is funny, because I honestly don’t see myself getting married anytime soon.” Nat’s eyebrows raised in what could almost be described as confusion.

“And why is that? Do you not want to get married?” Her hands started grazing up and down your waist, like she was comforting you, but really she was bracing herself for what was incoming.

“No, no it’s not that. I just..”

“Just?”

“I don’t think the person i’m interested in, is necessarily interested in me.” Her heart dropped. So you did have someone of interest. She pushed the sinking feeling to the side quickly so that she could respond.

“Right, and why is that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen them make a move. I thought it’d be obvious. I think it has been to some others.” Your eyes wandered, lingering for longer than what was probably appropriate, on Natasha’s plump lips, wondering if you’d ever get to experience what it’d be like to feel them on yours.

This time, Natasha didn’t miss it. She would’ve blamed it on alcohol, saying that she must’ve just imagined it, but she had only consumed a few drops all evening, being too entranced by you didn’t leave much room for hydration. She hadn’t been more thankful, because it made a light bulb go off in her head as the pieces came together in her head of who you were referring to. She didn’t make a move the other night. It was obvious to the team. How could she have been so blind?

You didn’t see it coming, even when your chin was held in her grasp and you saw her face leaning in towards yours, the reality only hitting you when you finally felt what you’d been wanting to feel for the last months, right now. Your surroundings had just disappeared, the only thing that was running through your head, was the way her lips were moving against yours, and the way her lips tasted faintly of vanilla, and how she smelled like her floral perfume she wore for special occasions.

Whooping and cheering brought you both back from your bubble with just the two of you, your head falling just below her chin, her hand stroking your back as you could feel her chuckle bubbling where your head lay. Well, hid. Her arms had muffled their comments, but you had an idea of what they were, probably a mixture of ‘finally!’, ‘i knew it!’ and you’re almost certain you heard a ‘You owe me 20 bucks.’, that one making you shake your head.

Remaining in your hiding spot, that wasn’t very well hidden, but was keeping your bright red face to yourself, a pair of familiar lips lingered right beside your head.

“So, about that bouquet..”

You weren’t getting married, but by the end of the night, you definitely didn’t feel so dreadfully single as you had earlier.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, heavy dubcon, bordering on noncon, profanity, manipulation

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL - PART TWO

TRUST ME

It's safe to say that Bakugo had gotten used to a certain lifestyle. 

Being top three in all years in the Hero-course, girls fawning, falling at his feet left and right, drooling, begging him to fuck them. 

Or… begging him to take them out on a date. 

But let’s be honest… no girls want to date him, they just want to ride his dick once a week. They just want to know what it feels like to be taken by a real man before halting, limping back to their clueless vanilla-boyfriends, all made up of soft smiles and warm hugs and nothing like Bakugo and how he spanks their girlfriend’s ass until blood leaks from popped veins and his name comes falling from their lips like tearful prayer.

Nowadays though, he’d had to kick more girls to the curb than he could count on both his hands without as much as getting his dick wet from the girl he’d picked for himself, the star that was once so bright and shining like a wild sunflower before he forced himself into her life. 

She seemed to have wilted, as she wouldn’t even spare him a second glance until he forced it from her.

Or… that was unfair. She was perfect, doing everything he asked, but… it wasn’t really willingly, now was it? 

All he needed was ask, but he knew she didn’t try to make him happy because she wanted to, she didn’t try and make him laugh because she wanted to, it didn’t come naturally as it did with others, she did it because she was scared shitless of what he would do if she didn’t.

It made him so unbelievable angry to see her laugh with others. Wrathful, vengeful even, when she buckled over and nearly fell, rolling on the floor in the pit of her humor, crying with how painfully she was wheezing. So furious because he couldn’t even blame her. He couldn’t blame her for preferring other people over him, other smiling laughing idiotic people, pleasant people as opposed to him and his aura of grumpiness. 

Some insouciantly greedy, almost evil, part of him whispered to him those times he saw her smile that genuine angel-bright smile, never with him, that perhaps if he simply took her, took her away, tucked her away more so than what he had already, that perhaps she’d have no choice but to share that light with his darkness, because supernova’s like her need things to shine for, they crave lighting people up, they’re just so fucking eager to please, and if he were the only one around to absorb all which she had to give, then she’d have no choice but to share.

It shouldn’t have been legal for him to demand more of her. 

She did everything he asked. 

She worked out with him, pushing herself to limits and extents she didn’t even know existed, almost until she barfed, almost until she collapsed, then praising his teaching-methods instead of admitting it was too much. 

She watches his movies, where she would contort the scary imagery of whatever horror or action movie Bakugo would put on the screen into the finest goriest comedy, cough up her lungs at the guts and brains leaking from sliced abdomens or cracked skulls, burry her face in his shoulder as she cried out laughter, instead of jumping into his arms like the scared little lamb she was supposed to be, begging him to turn it off and giving him an opportunity to slide his hand up her shirt. 

She studied with him, again gushing about what an amazing tutor he is instead of being honest by letting him know what an absolutely aggressive jerk he is, saying words she’d regret and have to find a way of apologising for, making it up to him in so many ways Bakugo lusted for, fantasised about when he laid next to her at night. 

She joined him with his friends, let him sleep in her bed, she even ate what and when he told her eat, dressed how he wanted her to dress, changed if he didn’t approve, cheered like his own personal perfect cheerleader at his battles, being probably the loudest person in the bleachers, making all the boys jealous of him, doing everything and more, and still, still it just wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he needed.

And no, what he needed wasn’t her pussy served on a platter. 

What he needed was leverage. He needed reassurance, he needed her trapped, locked down, glued to him. He needed to know, to believe, to trust that he had her not just for now, but for as long as he wanted, forever. 

And having her in the most primal shameless way, showing her what he could give her, show her that he isn’t just a god on the battlefield but has those same godlike skills when it comes to making her see stars was how he intended to make her need him. 

Granted, he’s never actually made love like how she’d probably want to, but he’s fucked plenty of sluts to have confidence in saying that he knows the female body like the back of his hand. 

If he could just feel her melt beneath him, just make her unravel, wrap her around his pinky, just once and he would know, she wasn’t leaving him anytime soon, she wasn’t ever going to leave him, not unless she wanted her pretty pictures leaked.

Not that he would ever let anyone see her like that, that was just for him, but he doubted she would think too much of what he was willing to do or not. That’s the beauty of threats, they don’t need to be true for the outcome to be fruitful. 

Though, he really wished it didn’t come to that. 

No, once she gets a taste of what it feels like to be taken care of the way he would take care of her, when she wakes up from what fever-dream he’s given her with a mouthful of honey and the newfound realisation that with him is where she belongs, where she’s always belonged, where she’ll always belong.

Or...

Perhaps it was about the sex. 

He had been good, loyal, patient, understanding, boyfriendly. 

She wasn’t the only one making sacrifices. 

It’s unfair of him to hold that against her, and he knows that… most of the time… but no one can blame him for forgetting it when he sees her sitting next to him in that short school-skirt, so in-reach, so grabbable, with his bed taunting them from right behind his back, how easy it would be to just pick her up and throw her down on it, watch her bounce while looking up at him in a giggling fit. 

He can’t be expected to focus on doing algebra with that in his mind, he can’t be expected to tutor her when she looks at him with that apologetically hopeless clueless expression, laughing that nervous laugh that every time warns him about how completely lost she is to what he’s talking about.

Granted, it was him who told her he would be tutoring her, because god and every teacher along with him knew she needed it, what with how she daydreams or pranks each and every class away like the ditzy klutz she is.

“I… I- I don’t know?” Was her answer to yet another equation he’d poured out from between his grit teeth.

Plan A revolved around her wanting to repay the favor, give him a little present for helping her out. Tit for tat, eye for an eye, sort of thing. And usually she would, give him a little something in return, a chaste kiss to his cheek, a frisky make-out session that always ended just a bit too early, never fully what he wanted.

Plan B was to tire her out, creating an opening for him to suggest that they do something that requires less thinking. She usually gets distracted, sometimes she’ll even initiate it in hopes he’d let her off the hook with studying, she’d pout her lips, look at him with those large pretty puppy-dog eyes, coax him into cuddling, but she’d always fall asleep just a minute later.

Plan C was a spin off plan B. Where in hopes of making her the bad guy, he would be sweet, he has been sweet, offering his help to tutor her, she would grow tired like she always does, only this time he wouldn't allow her to rest, therefor causing her to snap, resulting in her saying something she’d regret, again resulting in her apologising, something he could mold into her owing him a favour, something that would end up with having her splayed out on the sheets of his bed, ready for the taking. 

He just needed an opportunity to hold something against her, an excuse, a favor to cash in, he needed her backed up into a corner.

Plan C wasn’t working though, unfortunately.

She never grew fed up with him, she never said anything foul. 

He was stupid to think that an opportunity like that would arise. She isn't like him after all. In fact, she’s the farthest thing from him.

Well, time for plan D then. Another spin off plan B.

Don’t hold it against him, but he’d been spouting bullshit for the last three minutes in hopes of making her frustrate over herself, where the former plan had evolved into something a bit more crucial. 

But, she’s insanely tolerant, reminding him of Kirishima’s sturdy quirk, though he had to admit finding her unfaltering confidence and dedication way more mind-blowingly impressive. 

He had been chipping at that composure of hers for the last two hours without breaching the surface. 

But there was still hope. 

Everyone has a breaking point after all, and he could sense she was getting fed up. Fed up with his tone, fed up of him treating her like a moron, fed up with him. 

It would only take one last blow now and she’d break.

Or so he thought.

He had impressive amounts of patience, but he was also nearing his breaking point and finally after one more of her soft-natured laughs, he was the one that had enough, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

And plan E was looking way more opportune by the minute.

“You think it’s funny that you’re an idiot?”

Her eyes widened and turned instantly glossy at his harsh words, looking like a kicked-puppy, before it contorted into an expression of something akin to anger but not truly as vicious. 

Yet, obviously taking offence, huffing as she got up to leave, proving how she too was done with playing their little fantasy, uncaring, or rather forgetting, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without his permission.

“I think so too, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” He mocked, hand gripping her shirt and pulling her back between him and the desk. 

Already she was pushing at him, as he leaned in closer gripping her hips and gliding her onto his desk, wanting to feel her thighs and legs cradle around his torso. 

“But, you know what I find even funnier?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was given no room to let her protest out as he raised his voice in warning. 

“What I bet you laugh your ass off at behind my back?!” 

Her annoyance turned ashen, faltering into that meek fearful look he didn’t realise until know that he’d missed. 

“Is how much of an idiot I am.” 

Her brows scrunched, hands placed on the thick stiff muscles of his arms as she felt him start to rub circles into her midriff where his fingers where digging into her soft flesh through her shirt. 

“I’ve been so fucking patient.” It was barely above a whisper, almost sounding broken, like a cry or a plead or an apology, but then his face split into a snarl as he leered at her, teeth flashed at her face making her jump slightly where she sat planted on the desk. “So fucking patient with you that it’s ridiculous.” 

His nose touched hers where she slightly bowed her head. His eyes were blood-shot, or perhaps it was just how they always looked. She wouldn’t know as she made it her unrelenting mission to never look directly at him. 

But now she couldn’t escape his stare, the stare she’d feared so much, pushed tight up against her, so tight she smelled his breath when she inhaled, so tight she felt the thin hairs on her upper lip dance as he huffed out his own growling breaths. 

“And no, I’m not talking about math.”

Her hands had moved to his chest as he hunched further and further over her, pressuring her to lie down on the desk. 

“Please, Baku-” She tried, adding slightly more pressure to her hold on him, but honestly... no amount of her strength would be able to fend him off, especially with the mood he was in.

“No!” He cut her off with a growl, finally forcing her down on her back underneath him, as he palmed the doughy flesh of where her hips connected to her ass, greedy and so very hungry, still keeping a firm hold on her with a thumb hooked on her hip, keeping her in place. “No more please, and I told you it’s fucking Katsuki.” 

She flinched as he spit the correction in her face, feeling something bulging slot and rub itself up against where her skirt had hiked up and exposed her thin panties. 

“No more pleas, no more excuses, no more teasing, no more jokes.” 

He spotted a tear dripping down her cheek, escaping with how hard she was squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

She whimpered before she spoke. “I- I’ve do- done every- everything you- you asked.” She blubbered, her hands removed from their insignificant standoff with his chest and shot up to cover her face as she began crying, wiping at them as they fell, pathetic and broken and so pretty his balls hurt with how much he wanted to bury himself inside her no doubt tight cunt.

Desperate now, he bumped his erection into her heat. Trying to steal her focus away from the action by gripping her chin between his rough finger-pads, his lips brushing up her jawline, inhaling her perfume, the scent making another pleasurable shiver spring to his cock, again humping into her. 

“So, what’s one more thing?”

Her heart would have sunk by his words if it weren’t for the building intensity that spiked it to beat faster, hammering in her chest as she felt what she now had no doubt was him pushing into the scared place found between her thighs. 

She could feel her panic bubble up where she was pushed against the cold wooden desk, with her boyfriend’s unwanted heat radiated and seeping through her clothes to tickle her skin. 

She didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if she ever would want this. 

Bakugo had told her so many times that this was something she needed, everyone needed, but as her heart kept pumping so profusely in her chest, as though it were some blaring alarm, she wasn’t at all sure if she liked the way the stubble on his shaved chin scratched as it rode up her neck when he planted soft open-mouthed wet kisses there, she wasn’t sure if she at all wanted his large calloused wandering hands to stroke and tamper with her soft skin as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt to touch and feel up her stomach and squeeze the soft flesh of her tits, and the more and more his threatening clothed cock continued in rubbing desperately against her own teased sex she fell short of understanding just what it was she didn’t want, if it was the intimacy or just him.

Her panic built like bile in her throat, wanting to burst, which it did. 

“I’m not ready- I don’t- can’t we just…” 

He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger, lips coming to shut her up, cut off whatever protesting excuses she was about to splutter out. 

She tried getting her words out, trying ever so timidly to shake from the kiss, yet however which way she tried turning her head, Bakugo simply followed to deepen it, turning more bruisingly passionate by the second.

Her hands were kept unsurely in their delicate touching on his chest, again in her fear of souring the mood she only barely pushed at him to get off, whereas his hands grasped and groped up her thighs, feeling her soft flesh up like dough, squeezing and kneading and just touching her, all of her, despite her small hums of discomforted surprise.

Large encompassing hands took a break from their pioneering and easily pried her smaller ones off his chest, interlocking his fingers with hers and pushing them down to her sides where they wouldn’t get in the way. 

The kiss then turned rough, hungry as he yet again rocked himself into her, a rugged groan escaping from deep within his throat as her struggles met him with her own type of delicious friction, kissing his sensitive bulge with little caution.

He was so sensitive from having to have held back his primal urges for so long, especially after being teased daily by the soft grabbable little mouse he slept next to throughout every night without being allowed to do more than simply hold her, being teased with her ass slotted against his crotch as they spooned. 

If she wasn’t careful with her movement he might just become a pathetic mess and cum in his pants with how pent up he was.

His other hand made to slip under her skirt to feel up the lace of her panties, wanting nothing more but to slip his finger inside her no doubt tight little hole and work her up until she’d be dripping drenching his hand with wetness, wanting to hear those panicked whimpers turn into ones of pleasure instead, but she was making it impossible with all her troublesome wiggling. 

His fingers forgot their quest between her thighs in favor of picking her up and moving her to the bed instead. 

She tried pushing, but it was so weak that he could pretend to not feel it. 

He wouldn’t be stopping unless she flat out screamed at him, and even then, she’d have to be brutally clear or else he’d take it for screams of pleasure.

He made sure the fall was soft, placing her down on her butt first before his hand cusped the back of her head as he pushed her down onto her back with him hovering on top, deep kisses aiding his quest in pressing her and keeping her beneath him.

She jostled under the entrapment of his weight when his digits stroked up over her panties, rubbing and dipping into the warm tender skin found beneath. 

Her hands pushed at him then, only a little, though it should have been enough to get her message across, but as she realized it wouldn’t she turned her head to the side, freeing her lips from his attacking ones and allowing her to speak her protest, or… more whine than speak.

“Katsuki…”

He shushed at her from where he was nuzzling in her neck, seeming almost lovesick like a frenzied pup as he began to lightly hump into the mattress, his teeth nibbling at the thin skin of her throat. 

“Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel good.” It was a drawled-out mumble, but it told her of how he had no intention of stopping.

“But-” She tried, but was quickly made to shut up as her chin was once again captured and dragged to make her look up at him, his lips again pressing into her, seizing all words.

Soon his antagonizing finger hooked under her underwear, rough-textured fingertips quickly making their way to rub over the sensitive lips found at their disposal. 

Her struggles grew then, her chest jutting forward to try and lift him off her, to allow her to speak, but it was as though he was glued to her, his fingers nearly marking their presence into her cheeks as his wet mouth and even wetter tongue continued exploring the insides of her mouth. 

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers pushing through her folds, gliding up and down the slit. Jolting once too violently, Katsuki laid all his weight down onto her, trapping her there completely, quenching the harshness of her struggles and subduing them to what felt like she was trying to meet his desperate humping.

“Trust me.” 

He should have whispered it, he should have tried making it sound less aggressive as he cuddled with the lips of her pussy, sticking one finger inside her warmth, followed by her squealing in surprise against his lips. 

Her fingernails marked their presence into his skin as she held onto his arm, still not allowed to protest, still only barely allowed to breath.

He couldn’t help but growl at the feel of how tight she was, or… at the feel of how unprepared she was. 

She whimpered as it was no doubt uncomfortable being skewered onto his thick finger without being at all wet, but he was determined to make that change. 

His thumb pushed into her clit, starting to rub slow carful circles into the hooded and hidden pearl, wanting it to pucker out to meet him. And soon, at the hands of his experienced fingers, and perhaps encouraged by her virginal thrill of having something touch her for the first time, his wishes were met. 

The finger buried inside her began squishing in wetness, allowing him to add another one at the expense of her gasping against him, her hands relenting slightly in their need to push him off, a soft uncertain hum simmering against his lips, making him smirk, gloat and bloom with cocky bliss.

Working her tightness with his digits, coating them in slick, he began curling them, feeling the waves of her tensing and melting beneath him. Parting them, scissoring them inside of her plushie walls, his thumb rubbing tight patterns into her bead.

Encouraged by her struggles subsiding he began pumping the digits in and out, feeling her wetness coat his hand. The actions finally earning him a moan, a sweet trembling breathy moan, one that got right to his head as his grin widened against her lips. 

“You see?” He asked, lips still barely detaching from her, breathing the words into her. “You were just scared…” 

Their eyes locked and he was happy to see her orbs large and glossy yet cotton-flavored and blissful as she looked up at him. 

“You don’t need to be scared with me, just let me do this for you, trust me…” 

He kissed her softly now, no brutality or forcefulness, but lightly and sweetly and tenderly, so much so she almost forgot it was Bakugo. 

“I’ll make you feel good.”

But it was Bakugo. 

It was Bakugo. 

Bakugo who’d forced her into a relationship. 

Bakugo: her self-proclaimed boyfriend, her self-proclaimed roommate, her tutor, her guard-dog, her warden. 

Bakugo, who was now persuading her into giving him her virginity.

She was about to answer, but as though he precepted her growing trepidation he met it all with a sharp hooking of his fingers, making her arch her back up into him, her knees trembling where they were pushed up over his thigh next to his hips. 

“Just relax…”

An open-mouthed uncontrolled moan escaped her then. “Katsuki~” 

She felt her hips buck back into his hand, letting him know that he had her completely wrapped around his finger, just as figuratively as it was literal.

“That’s right…” He spoke softly, maintaining the aura of safety, wanting to keep her exactly like that, all soft and sweet and vulnerable for him. “You just focus on me, babe.” 

He placed a tender kiss to her jaw, contrasted with how he now rubbed vigorously onto her swollen bud, feeling her tremble, quake at his hands. 

He knew he had her right where he wanted her, chasing that high he was giving her, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his torso, reminding him of his own arousal, but he couldn’t pay himself any mind. 

Right now all he needed to worry about was sealing the deal.

An excited jumpy hitched breath left her lips, precious as it was sweet, chest rising above the bed and pressing against his own in such a soft expression of gratitude, just as her legs squeezed tightly around his waist, keeping him close, pussy clenching around his fingers so tight he could only dream of what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, as her eyelids started to flutter, squishing to a close, but not before he saw her eyes cross, reaching towards the light, a light he ignited for her.

She was left a panting mess, her walls fluttering around his digits, happily sucking on them as she spilled.

But she wasn’t left blissed out for long as she hurriedly scurried back to herself, hands covering her face as she hung her head in embarrassment, feeling that dreadful feeling wash over her, that draining shame feeling like death’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry.” She squealed, words muffled beneath the cover of her hands.

His brows scrunched as he perceived her, trying to spot her face from beneath what shield she’d made with her hands.

“I- I made a mess…” 

It sounded as though she were about to cry, so ashamed her body began to shake, her thighs pressed together, hiding where she cocooned herself in the bed in front of him.

His hand trailed soft fingers up her forearm to wrap around her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face. 

He sighed, heart clenching at the sight of her glossy shameful eyes. 

“You’re so fucking adorable…” 

There was a slight chuckle attached to the statement, his lips kissing her temple before they brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tongue next?”

The question left her shell-choked, her lip quivering at the promise of his mouth kissing her down there in the same manor he kissed her lips: brutally, passionately, with teeth. 

“M-Mn-No…” She spoke bashfully, still anxious.

Too cute for her own good.

His hand, the one soaked with her essence, ascended to his face, his fingers disappearing into his mouth, lips enclosing around them as he sucked the juices clean off, giving a groan at her taste as well as her shocked but curious expression, smirking once he let his finger go with a kiss.

His hands moved front and centre, beginning to tamper with the buttons to her uniform. 

“You’re safe with me.” He repeated, knowing it was something she needed to hear, especially as he began opening button after button, revealing her precious pearly-white bralette, where under was found glory in the shape of soft warm pillows. “Trust me.” 

He shoved her shirt off her shoulders, bringing it out of her reach, not allowing her the freedom of covering herself if she were to change her mind and snatch it back from his hands. 

She hummed in unease as though to ask if he had to go any further, to which he answered by kissing her forehead, a gesture that made a shiver run up her spine, unsure if it was of pleasure or something more eerie. 

His finger running, dancing around to her back, tickling the skin where her bra was held together. 

He felt her tense up, but ignored it and continued in his quest, pinching the clasp and taking hold of the straps to pull the annoying thing off, leaving her bare and beautiful.

Taking a second to admire her as her nipples perked at once at the hands of her embarrassment, he held back the urge to pinch, forcing himself to be soft, soft and sweet and safe, something he needed to remind himself of. 

Hands moving carefully to hold one of the mounds, a careful squeeze followed by a careful rub of the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Lay back down.” His voice was so warm, so warm it left her perplexed, unable to tell that the words shaped a demand as he placed one large hot hand in the space between her breasts, adding slight pressure to ease her back down into the bed, all the while her curious yet terror-wide watery eyes looked up at him, falling prey to his dominant crimson ones. 

His head followed hers, lips pressing one soft kiss to her wet ones.

There is something about being bare in front of someone fully dressed. Something so dominating, something so frightening. But, surely the fact that he looked at her as though she were the world made everything safer, surely it evened the scales, surely… she wasn’t completely powerless.

“Let me prove just how much I love you.”

He could feel how terribly fast her heart was beating as he kissed down her neck, over her collar bone, careful to not bite too harshly, giving into simply nibbling or grazing his teeth, fighting the urge to mark her up so prettily. 

Mouth moving to suck at the exposed sensitive skin of her tits, forgetting himself as he made to grind the protruding nib between his teeth, being met with a squeal from the girl beneath him, her hands instinctively pushing at his shoulders. 

But again, her racing heartbeat and impulsive struggles were subdued, Bakugo making to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers, squishing her plump bloated reddened lips together, whispering upon them as he leaned in close. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you know I won’t hurt you.” 

She nodded, but still he felt her shiver, heard the tremor in her breathing, the soft sniffles she couldn’t keep at bay, just as pathetic as they were adorable and mouthwatering for him to hear.

Once he reassured himself she wasn’t about to roll out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, running like a spooked hare, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth before peppering a dozen more down her neck, over the nipples he’d played with, going further down and lower and lower until he was all the way down to kissing the space found just beneath her bellybutton, his ears shifting to listen to how the bed creaked upon her shuffling, yet those anxious movements where seized when his hefty arms wrapped beneath her thighs, pulling her all snug and personal, lining her up perfectly with his face, all for him to see what gorgeous mess he’d made of her, all glistening and blushed with arousal. 

He couldn’t wait any longer to give her a taste, feel her melt on his tongue, hear her moan as he buried his face into her.

He flicked a light kitty-lick over her budding clit, felt her quake in his arms, looking up yet still down at her where he couldn’t quite place what emotion terrorised her face the most, whether it was mostly anxiety, discomfort, shame, embarrassment or pleasure. 

It didn’t discourage him though as he made the same movement again, only now twirling his warm textured tongue around the pearl, swirling around it, circling it like a shark, before his entire mouth enclosed it, devoured it, sucked on it, his tongue placed flat on top of it as he dragged it over the sensitivity again and again, sucking fervently, feeling her panic at the intrusive pleasure, yet being held steady in his arms with no way of getting away.

He let up, letting go with a wet pop before running his tongue deeply down the slit, plunging into her weeping hole where it wormed its way inside. 

She wiggled as his nose bumped into her ravaged clit, all sensitive with tender swelling.

She was all shaky breaths, no sound too loud, no sound too brazen or wanton. 

He needed to change that. 

He planned to go slow, but had wanted it to be a surprise, and so, instead of lightly grazing his teeth over the silken bud he gave into biting down on it, gnawing it lightly between the rows of his teeth.

She shrieked, hands pushed with force against his head to get him off as she climbed higher up on the bed, away from him, yet the movement was soon stilled, or rather reversed with the strength of Bakugo’s arms coiled around her thighs, dragging her back to meet his hungry mouth. 

“Don’t move.” 

Carmine eyes stared up at her from down in between herself, and she felt her knees go weak as they shook at the terrifying growl that accompanied his threat. 

“Just… trust me.” 

She didn’t. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared his marred and mauled hands, those scars running up over the great juicy muscles of his arms, those deadly arms themselves, capable of both withstanding and giving destruction, proof that he can and has survived far greater than what she could ever hope, proof that she was no match, no equal. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared how his thumb now rubbed over her clit, creating such godsend friction that had her unraveling, melting into his mouth, and that mouth itself, that tongue, those teeth, how they devoured her for everything she was worth. 

She didn’t trust him, but she found... falling suited her, and chasing the fires had unknowingly become a feeling she rather cherished than feared, a little less like dying, and more like... coming home.

By the time she came to, reeled back into reality, yet still remaining far away, succumbed by bliss, her eyes were opium-blown as she blinked dumbly, not realizing how Bakugo had placed himself on her side, eyes full of awe as he watched her, leg tangled with legs, heart to heart, hand held lazily on her hip, drawing small patterns up and down her side, watching her flushed face drowse into the pillow until those pretty chaste eyes met his again.

His boxers were sticky. 

She’d been too busy, too distracted with the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth abusing what found between her legs to notice how he’d been humping the mattress while eating her out as though he were starved and crazed and feral with lust. And even though she felt him groan and growl, the reverberations that tremored at the roughness of his gruff timber was enough to make her eyes cross and forget, even forgive them from ever happening.

“How about making a mess on my cock next time?” 

His hand stroked her cheek after pulling the covers up to drape her naked body that now had begun to shiver in the crash of coming down. The thoughtful action a stark contrast to his cocky suggestive tone, eyes glinting wickedly at the little lamb he’d lured into and onto his wolf fangs, still tasting her essence on his tongue, watching as those skittish brows erupted into that beautiful panic that somehow resembled hope as she looked at him wide-eyed, smitten with plead and all things soft. 

“I’m joking…” 

He gave a smile, soft but in a different way, admiring what was his. 

“Or, not really… but whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.” 

The thumb stroked over her cheek once again, before his lips pressed a long firm kiss to her forehead, hinting for her to nuzzle into his neck, where his smell had become like ritual, something she wasn’t meant to go on without for too long.

She thought she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for any of this. What makes the next step any different? Still, with the defeatist thought, she did like the defeatist she was, timid hands coming to hold onto Bakugo’s fire-hot skin, slotting herself tight against his body. 

She didn’t trust him, but she trusted his love, she trusted his lust, she trusted he would never let her go, and that perhaps those arms of his weren’t too bad. Perhaps if she thought of how safe she was she could more or less forget or rather forgive that they were there to keep her trapped, perhaps if she spent enough time believing she was kept safe by him, then she’d forget all the reason as to why being trapped with him was the farthest thing from safe.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE