#ah its nice to get art of my blond boi again

[xaallo]

Ink doodle commission by Dracofaunus! That's one comfy lookin' boy!

[shootybangbang]

Can i request an Arthur/sadistic female reader please？i really want to see him all messed up because of...you know🥺

(btw, pls check out the requester's art. her arthur content is 😩👌)

[Oneshot]: In which you still don't know how to tie an overhand knot

[Rating]: Explicit

[Note]: this is so fucking horny that i feel i have to apologize in advance. unedited and a little rough around the edges, feel free to point out errors or give criticism

———

“Huh,” you muse aloud. “Looks like the gallery’s putting up a new exhibition this weekend.”

With one hand, you spread the newspaper across the bed and skip to page three. With the other, you continue to stroke Arthur’s cock, twisting your wrist a little to smooth your palm against its dripping tip. The man himself groans as you touch him, and the frame of his body trembles beneath where you’ve straddled yourself over his thighs.

His breaths are quickening again. “Please,” Arthur rasps, his voice hoarse with exertion and desperation alike. You indulge him with another slow, teasing pump of your fist as you continue to pick through the St Denis Tribune, humming thoughtfully as you peruse the newspaper’s Arts and Entertainment section.

“I’m beggin’ you, girl.” He sounds as though he’s teetering on the very edge of agony and ecstasy, and venturing perilously close to the latter. “C’mon. Please.”

“Looks like it’s mostly Impressionists this time. Let’s see here… a selection of Seurats and Monets… a couple Renoirs… oh, some Degas too?” With a mild expression that belies the depth of torture you’ve been putting him through, you slow your hand to a stop. He makes a choked, unhappy noise in the back of his throat that you heartily ignore. “That’s pretty bold of them, considering the reception they gave that Chatenay fellow you told me about.”

Growling, Arthur starts fumbling with the (admittedly badly tied) restraints securing his arms behind his back, twisting his wrists in an attempt to find a loose end.

“Easy there.” You run the pad of your thumb along the ridge delineating the head of his cock, slicking against the precum beaded at its tip. “I’ll give you what you want soon enough.”

“Been hearin’ you say that for almost half an hour now,” he replies, glaring. “You enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Immensely.”

“Better savor it while you can, because I promise you — I’m gonna remember this the next time I get you beneath me.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? What‘re you gonna do then?”

“Untie me and I’ll show you,” he says.

“No,” you reply with a beatific smile.

He narrows his eyes and lowers his voice to something smooth and dangerous: the sort of tone you’ve known him to use for threats he actually intends to follow through on. “When it’s my turn,” he says. “I ain’t gonna tie you up. Won’t need to. Because with you, all I need is my hands.”

A shiver runs down your spine. The man’s wrists may be bound, but you’re still very much at his mercy. In all actuality, your authority here amounts to only a length of rope and his own good humor.

You let out a soft, involuntary whimper at the very thought of it.

“Gonna pin you down when I fuck you,” he continues. He’s smirking now, clearly enjoying the demonstrable effect his words have on you. “Lay you down on your stomach and keep you under me, where you belong.”

You’re half-tempted to loose the rope and let him do just that. Instead, you grab the hem of your shift with both hands and pull the garment over your head in a single fluid motion. It’s 1899, after all. High time for a woman to take charge of her own pleasure.

The dim glow of the oil lamp bathes your bare skin in a wash of gold and amber as you settle yourself against him, pressing the wet line of your slit along the length of his cock. “Go on,” you tell him. “What else?”

Arthur swallows hard and licks his lips, then draws in a sharp intake of breath as you roll your hips forward — just a brief stir of movement, but more than enough to make him twitch beneath you. “Drive you to the brink the same way you’re doin’ to me now,” he says weakly. “Take my time with you, nice and slow. Make you really beg for it.”

“Mm-hmm.” Another roll of your hips, this time with just enough pressure to grant him a touch of warmth.

Finally, he breaks. And it’s truly a sight to behold: Arthur Morgan, a man who you’d thought would break your spine like a toothpick the first time you’d met, openly begging for the simple privilege of being allowed between your thighs.

“God, please,” he groans. “You can’t do this to me. Can’t let me feel how wet you are and just leave me like this.”

“Of course I can.” You relent. “But I won’t. So be a good boy and stay still for me, alright?”

His cock weighs heavy in your hand as you guide him between your thighs. Arthur lets out a harsh gasp and instinctively thrusts upwards — but you immediately withdraw, and he finds nothing but the cruel emptiness of absence waiting to receive him.

“Thought I told you to stay still,” you repeat sternly.

He nods with the frantic desperation of a badly-trained dog begging for a meal. Hungry and eager, but standing to attention with as much obedience he can muster. Which isn’t much, even on the best of days, but he is trying. And for that, he deserves something in return.

You take him in slowly, both out of principle and necessity. Just a taste of him first, then the gradual descent, a long and drawn out consumption that he has barely the means to endure.

His gaze still hasn’t left you. There is an intensity in it that once might have frightened you, an azure bright as broken glass and twice as sharp. The purity of emotion in them strikes you to the bone, makes your throat tighten and your dominance waver — there is a depth of devotion there that borders on the absolute.

When you move against him, he squeezes his eyes shut against the sheer force of sensation that floods through. Arthur makes a low, pained noise in the back of his throat and confesses, “I ain’t gonna last long.”

You lean forward and kiss him, then start a slow, rocking motion with your hips that spurs him to whimper your name against your lips, a small cry of warning before you feel the first twitches of his cock. Arthur bucks up once, twice, then shudders beneath you as his seed pulses deep, blooms hot and slick inside your core.

“Goddammit,” he hisses. “Didn’t think I’d— ah, fuck…”

You ride on, grinding through the last, weakening throbs of his orgasm and until he lets out a final, heavy sigh. Arthur regards you with loose-limbed exhaustion, lolling his head against your pillows as he flashes you a drained, weary grin. “Alright,” he says. “Untie me and get up here so I can—”

“No need,” you say brightly, then lift your hips in a brief mockery of release before sheathing him again and sending him reeling into oversensitivity.

Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasps, wincing. “What’re you—”

“Too much?”

“Didn’t say that,” he says. His jaw is clenched tight and his voice is faint, but the look on his face is one of stubborn determination.

You test him with another slow, sinuous slide of your hips. This time, he meets you with a shallow thrust of his own. He’s breathing hard, each exhale shivery with exertion. “Keep goin’,” he urges. “I can take it.”

The added lubrication of his come eases the friction of him, soothes the inevitable ache of penetration. You settle for an unhurried, leisurely rhythm that allows you to fully appreciate the slickness of each stroke, the accompanying warmth of his seed still spread through your core.

Arthur’s gaze darts downwards to the base of his shaft, where the drip of his come has begun to pool. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. “Just beautiful.”

He snakes his right arm free from his bonds and abruptly flips you onto your back with a well-timed shove.

“What— how did you…?”

“Sweetheart,” Arthur says, his voice warm and affectionately condescending. “You still can’t tie an overhand knot for shit.”

“But I double-checked this time!”

“Not very well, apparently.” He hitches your thighs around his waist and cages you in beneath him, then lowers his mouth to the slope of your neck. A brief, gentle nip — not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to convey his renewed authority. “God, but you’re a greedy little thing, ain’t you?” he growls against your skin. “Just one load of my spend ain’t enough?”

“Thought you’d appreciate the challenge, since you’re always so— oh, shit,” you gasp, clutching at his shoulders when he drives himself downwards with a sharp, savage thrust.

“Go on.” Arthur says. He’s panting now, his dark blond hair slicked against his forehead with sweat. “Weren’t you sayin’ somethin’ about me?”

You let out an indecipherable whine that bears only a passing resemblance to human language.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs, low and tender. Arthur cups the side of your face against his palm and traces his thumb over your cheekbone, then presses a chaste kiss to your brow. “Can’t even talk right when I’m fucking her proper.”

He’ll no doubt be insufferably smug about this later, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, distracted as you are by the view of him rutting against you, his shaft still streaked with his previous release. He’s fucking his own come back into me, you think to yourself, and that thought alone blinds out all else and leaves you blank with pleasure.

Arthur takes you hard and fast. Far rougher than his usual handling, which can sometimes be almost excruciatingly cautious. He kisses you clumsily, then lowers his mouth to the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting until the first, faint traces of tomorrow’s bruises begin to darken.

And with this, it’s not long before the first delirious ripples of your own orgasm begin to crest.

Every muscle drawn and tensed, dissolving into an inward ache of arousal that spurs you to grip him tight and whimper, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep his face in view. With a fierce satisfaction, you savor the sudden weakness in his expression when he feels you contract against him, then his harsh groan and the stutter of his hips as he follows, spilling what seed he has left.

Arthur keeps himself hilted until the very last shivers of exhilaration fade, then pulls away with a reluctance usually reserved for long farewells. The overflow of his come is thick and heavy as it drips from between your thighs, and the look on his face as he beholds it is one of tired appreciation.

Then he flops onto his side, totally spent. “You’re a real demon,” he sighs. “You know that?”

“A real demon would go for round three,” you reply faintly, staring dreamy-eyed up at the ceiling.

Arthur groans at the mere suggestion of it. “I think that’d actually kill me.”

When you curl up against him, he automatically throws an arm over your side, the action at this point an instinct secondary only to breathing, and brushes his mouth over the back of your neck.

As you ebb towards sleep, you murmur as an afterthought, “Didn’t you say you were gonna make me beg?”

He lets out a weary chuckle. “Well,” he says, “There’s always tomorrow.”

[tothemeadow]

Art trade with @azurenocturne​

Art originally done by @ Lsjenjen on twitter

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

- Kyojuro decides to take your relationship to the next level while teaching you how utterly amazing you are, no matter what anyone else says. -

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, mentions of emotional abuse, Douma is kind of a dickhead

words: 2k

-

“You’re doing it again.”

Snapping away from your reverie, you nearly drop your phone as you fumble around, embarrassment heating up your insides. You hadn’t even realized you were spacing out again. Still, Douma cracks a smile. You tense as he reaches over the table, the rings adorning his fingers catching the afternoon light streaming in through the windows. He merely pats the crown of your head with a gentle touch; you know that this is all for show since the two of you are in public. While Douma has never struck you during the course of your relationship, he isn’t gentle either.

“Stupid girl,” he mutters. “There isn’t anything that important in your life to distract you this much.”

Ah, there it is.

You’re used to the biting words, the snarky comments, the endless insults. On some days, it’s like his sole mission in life is to yell at you constantly, but what can you do about it? It is your fault, after all. Maybe if you had your head on straight or weren’t so sensitive, things could be better for you in life.

You swallow dryly. The plate of half-eaten food sitting in front of you doesn’t even look appetizing anymore. “I’ve got exams coming up, you know that,” you tell him, voice low. You know better than to talk back to him, especially when you’re in public like this.

With a scoff, Douma leans back in his seat. It’s unfair that he’s still unbelievably attractive even when irritated; strong jaw set, eyes heavy lidded, and birch hair pulled up high, he looks like he’s ready to set foot out on the runway rather than be sitting here on a lunch date with you. The houndstooth material of his jacket ruffles as he crosses his arms. He’s just so pretty, incredibly so, and you’d be damned if you said you couldn’t bear to stare at him all day.

“Well, you’re with me,” he spits. “Exams be damned.”

“Douma, you know I can’t fail these courses if I want to graduate-“

“I don’t care,” Douma interrupts. “Christ, all I did was ask you out to lunch, and all you do is think about it your classes? What am I, chopped liver?”

“No,” you say frantically, “of course not. I’m sorry. Please… Please don’t be mad.”

Douma sighs. His expression softens, then; getting up from his chair, he opts to take the spot next to you instead. “I know you’re sorry, my little cherub. You know all I want to do is to be stuck in that pretty little head of yours, right?” With a gentle hum, he slings an arm around your shoulder and nuzzles the top of your head. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

It’s those simple words that makes your tummy flutter and the ice around your heart to melt. This is why you love Douma, after all. Sure, he can be mean sometimes, but he means well.

A smile blossoms across your face as you lean into his warmth. “I promise.”

-

When it comes to playing life, you always act the fool.

Words are cheap, enough said. It just so happens that Douma’s are practically dirt.

Although he knows you’re sorry about focusing on your studies lately, it’s almost if he never drops the subject. He has a point though – he is your boyfriend, after all. It’s just your fault that you have the improper abilities of juggling your love life and schooling at the same time. It’s when he’s attending his own classes that you’re finally able to breathe, even though you feel guilty about thinking that way in the first place.

You still can’t shake off the guilt as you venture through the school’s library, browsing for books your professor recommended for you to better understand the material. It’s a slow process, your eyes scanning over each of the exposed spines. “No… no… no… “ you say to yourself, the quiet mantra continuing on while your search comes up with nothing. “Dammit, why can’t I – ah!”

Before you know it, your body is colliding into someone else’s; as you’re about to take an inevitable tumble and land on your ass, a strong hand grasps onto your forearm while another lands on the small of your back.

“Whoa there! Sorry about that!” a deep, attention-getting voice whisper-yells.

As you open your eyes (you didn’t even realize you closed them to begin with), your met with a boy around your age, eyes bright and blond hair held back with a backwards ballcap. As he flashes you a cheeky smile, you’re struck by how white his teeth are compared to his golden skin, the sharp line of his jaw. Your heart thuds in your chest, and for good reason, too – this man is hot.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” this stranger continues. He pulls you upright, making sure you’re properly balanced before giving you a onceover to check for any bruises.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you say awkwardly. It’s incredible how quickly your body heats up under his gaze despite literally just bumping into the guy. “I wasn’t paying attention anyway, it’s all my fault-“

“Hey,” he interrupts, his eyes crinkling even further, “I wasn’t paying attention either. Don’t take all the blame for yourself, eh?” He sticks out a hand, then, the prominent veins in his forearm and hand instantly catching your attention. “Rengoku Kyojuro, at your service. You can just call me Kyojuro, though.”

Kyojuro.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. You wonder how it tastes on your tongue, how your lips feel when you say it. “Kyojuro,” you say, testing it out. You immediately decide you like it. Grasping onto his hand, you introduce yourself, an easy smile making its way onto your features before you even realize it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Right back at ya,” he chirps.

His hand is large and warm. In fact, heat seems to radiate off his body, tempting you to lean in and hold him close.

“Say,” Kyojuro says, a hopeful glint shining in his eyes, “do you want to grab a coffee or something?”

Your heart nearly gets stuck in your throat. For a moment, you think of Douma and what he would he say if he found out about you grabbing coffee with some other guy. However, Kyojuro just seems so nice and, well, perfect.

“Yeah,” you tell him, “I’d love to.”

-

After that fateful meeting, things started to change.

During the free moments you had, you would meet up with Kyojuro, either to go out to eat or simply have a study session together. You quickly found yourself thoroughly enjoying his company, and all for the right reasons. Despite his excitable, bold behavior, he was kind, more so than most people you know. You craved to be in his presence, to have his pearly smile directed at you. Hell, even the thought of him made your heart throb.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Douma to start noticing your “odd” behavior. You acted distant whenever the two of you were together, so much more… closed. What really got him, though, was when he confronted you about it. I found someone else, you had told him, face and voice equally solemn. This is the end of us. Even you were shocked by the mere fact that you had dumped him; after all this time, you were finally free of his cruel words and the endless pain.

“You’re doing it again, sweetie.”

Just like that, you’re snapping back to reality and away from your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mutter, “I was just thinking of… things.”

Even after a few months of ditching Douma for Kyojuro, you still find yourself spacing out. Kneeling on the bed like this, your hand hangs in the air, absentmindedly holding a brush while the other is still holding onto Kyojuro’s blond locks. Turning around fully, Kyojuro’s thick brows furry together as a glint of worry sparks in his eyes. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges, taking your face into his hands. “I am not Douma. I’ll never be like him, you got it?” Gently stroking your cheek, he flashes you a soft smile. “I couldn’t bear to put you in pain like that, my sweets. You’re too special for anything like that.”

Oh god, he’s so gentle, so freaking sweet that you’ll get a toothache. As cheesy as it sounds, your heart yearns for him, for his promises, and for his loving touches. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone like this in your life.

“So please,” Kyojuro continues, gaze dropping to your mouth, “trust me.”

And you do. For the love of everything high and mighty, you trust this guy with your entire being. The kiss you two share starts off slow, yet it’s so full of unspoken feeling that it makes your heart soar. You can’t deny the fact that his hands feel good as they trail lower, brushing over your neck and shoulders before settling on your waist. Hell, you love it when he presses you onto your back, his weight hovering over you protectively. Like this, Douma can’t hurt you. Douma can’t even get near you, not when Kyojuro is around, not when he’s treating you this softly.

It didn’t take very long for you to confide in Kyojuro about how your relationship with Douma went. Appalled by Douma’s so-called methods, Kyojuro promised to treat you like the queen you are because you deserve it.

Even as you quake, Kyojuro holds you steady. And he’s always so warm, so wonderfully warm as he rids you of your shirt before following suit. Your fingers drift over the swell of his pectorals, the divots of his abs. Now, things have escalated between you two before, but nothing to this extent. The last person you slept with was Douma, and even then he would degrade you and make you feel like utter trash. But no, not with Kyojuro. Never with Kyojuro.

“You’re gorgeous,” he mutters, mouth slanting over your neck and down your chest. Your heart quickens as mouths your breasts, hands slipping around and unhooking your bra. “And you’re so soft and sweet…” Trailing off, he lifts himself back up, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re perfect, (y/n). I’ll be damned if anybody tells you differently.”

Heart leaping to your throat, you sling your arms around his broad shoulders and pull him back into a kiss. You refuse to let yourself shed any tears, but you can’t deny the dampness gathering in your eyes.

“Pretty girl,” Kyojuro says, mouth beginning its descent once more. This time, he carries on past your chest, lips brushing against your tummy as he carefully removes your pants. Your fingers comb through his hair as little gasps slip through your lips; nuzzling you through your panties, he openly gropes your thighs and ass, deep, rumbling moans vibrating in his chest.

“Kyojuro,” you breathe, back arching as he yanks down your panties and presses his mouth against your quivering pussy. His movements remain slow, but the deep stroke of his tongue inside your pussy or the strong suckling on your clit has you seeing stars. His bright eyes never leave your face, a lustful yet loving expression carved into his handsome features. A slight yank on his hair has him redoubling his efforts; easily bending your thighs to your chest, he works at your pussy vigorously, the lewd noises and his husky groans filling your ears.

“So fucking perfect,” he mutters, thick fingers slipping past your folds. You keen at the touch, your velvety walls fluttering around his digits. “You’re wonderful, my sweets,” he coos, pressing his mouth to the inside of your knee in a quick kiss. “I love you.”

“Kyojuro, please,” you pant. The tears building up in your eyes finally break free as you reach out towards him. “Make love to me… won’t you?”

Drawing away from your dripping pussy, Kyojuro hovers over you, a dazzling grin painted on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I… I trust you, my love.”

Hearing the pet name tumble from your mouth has Kyojuro’s eyes crinkling. “Anything for you, sweetie,” he purrs, reaching down and undoing his pants. “Everything for you.”

[dreaming-of-assclass]

AH hi zaina hope im not too late but for the writing prompts: “Don’t cross the street yet, idiot!” with terasaka, yoshida + muramatsu if thats all cool? immediately thought of those three when reading it lmfao

LEE!!!! Yes omg ofc!!! also we have the exact same brain bc I thought of them too for this prompt 😭😂

Terasaka, Yoshida, Muramatsu + “Don’t cross the street yet, idiot!”

…

“Goddamn, I need some sunglasses out here,” Terasaka grumbled, shielding his face from the bright glare of the sun. "Why is it so bright?!"

He felt sweat droplets forming on the back of his neck from the day's warmth as he shuffled along the sidewalk, slinging his bag over his shoulder while one hand continued to try and block the UV rays.

"Well, global warming is here now," Muramatsu pointed out from besides him. He was smart and adorned a black cap over his ruffled hair, although Terasaka doubted its effectiveness. The blonde's ears were turning slightly red from the heat.

"It has something to do with greenhouse gasses and the ozone layer," Muramatsu continued. "I can't remember all that crap, but Takebayashi was talking about it on Monday."

Terasaka considered it. "True. I heard about the ice caps melting and whatnot. Guess that's why it's boiling hot now when just yesterday, I had to wear a sweater."

A few steps behind them, Yoshida yawned. Obnoxiously loudly.

The other two stopped and turned to him with a glare. "Really dude?" Terasaka groaned.

"I already have to hear my dad yawning like that every morning," Muramatsu complained.

The biker shrugged and pulled his water bottle out. "Sorry, but it's way too early to be talking about melting ice caps and global warning and all that science shit." He took a swig from the bottle.

"Global warming, you dumbass," Terasaka sighed, although it was evident he was amused.

Yoshida capped his bottle and shoved it back into his bag. "Let's talk about that actually." He pointed in front of them.

Both boys followed in the direction of his finger, only to see a poster taped to a street lamp ahead. Terasaka walked over to read it better, while Muramatsu moved more slowly.

"Cooking contest on Saturday, June 14th," Terasaka read aloud. "2pm at Sakura Park. Bring your finest dish, ready for your skills to be evaluated by our judges. The winner receives a gourmet cookbook from the finest ramen chef in the region, Suzuhara Junpei."

He turned back to the others, an incredulous look on his face. "Well, damn. Finally, a great opportunity for the culinary arts around here."

Yoshida clasped Muramatsu's shoulder with an excited grin. "You're signing up for that. No arguments."

Terasaka ruffled his hair affectionately. "Yeah, you would so win this. Your cooking is the fucking best when you're making stuff outside your dad's menu."

Muramatsu just smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, guys. I actually, uh, already signed up for this."

"Huh?"

"Wait, really?"

Yoshida whipped around to face the poster again, leaning in to see the bottom portion, which he just realized was the sign-up sheet. And sure enough, Muramatsu's name was listed besides the number seven.

Terasaka grinned at him, impressed. "Well, shit dude, when were you gonna tell us?"

Muramatsu laughed. "Today, actually." He pulled off his bag and reached into it, pulling out two Tupperware containers.

"I decided I should make a curry for the contest, so I tried out two different recipes last night." He handed a container to each of them.

"Ooooh." Yoshida was almost salivating at the sight inside.

"One is a Trinidadian goat curry, and the other is a Pakistani dish called Chicken Karahi," Muramatsu continued. "Karma helped me get some spices and ingredients for both."

"So, he is capable of being nice," Terasaka murmured in surprise.

Muramatsu snickered. "It didn't come free. I had to make him a serving and promise to share my cookbook with him if I win."

"When you win," Yoshida corrected him. "Dude, this looks amazing as hell."

"For real," Terasaka agreed, already impatient for lunch. The container in his hands smelled delectable, and the taste would definitely match it.

"Aww, thanks, fellas." Muramatsu smiled. "Just try both curries at lunch and let me know which one you prefer, so I know which recipe to stick with for the contest."

He gestured to his bag, which Terasaka only just realized appeared heavier and more stuffed than normal. "I made servings for Hazama, Itona, and Hara too, to get their opinions."

"Alright, but I wouldn't take Itona's reviews too seriously," Yoshida smirked. "I swear, he's shitting with all of us."

"Are you kidding?" Muramatsu laughed as they began walking again. "I take his the most seriously. You guys enjoy everything but he's got refined tastebuds. I have no fucking clue how, though."

"No, but there's no way he can actually tell the difference between the taste of table salt vs sea salt," Yoshida protested.

"Nah, that one's obvious. Maybe you're just a dumbass," Muramatsu sniggered.

"Ok, alone, yeah. But when it's already mixed in food? No fucking way."

"They technically carry the same exact nutritional value. But table salt is really fine grains, while sea salt has the bigger crystals."

Yoshida kept up his argument. "But besides the appearances, there can't be any discernible differences."

"HEY!" They both jumped in place at the sound of Terasaka's bark. "DON'T CROSS THE STREET YET, IDIOTS!"

Both of their toes were right on the very edge of the curb as cars rushed dangerously by in front of them. The crossing sign light flashed red on the other side.

"Oh shit," Yoshida breathed, feeling his heart fall down to a normal rate. "That scared the shit out of me."

Muramatsu hadn't even realized how ahead they'd gotten during their heated discussion.

Terasaka finally caught up to them, a scowl on his face. "Watch where you're going! Two sets of eyes and you both didn't look at the road?"

Muramatsu tried to conceal his mirth. Terasaka's "mama-bear" energy was coming out. "We were-"

He waved them off. "Yeah, yeah, you fools were too focused on arguing about salt, of all things."

Yoshida shoved Muramatsu's arm, jokingly. "I know I'm right, by the way."

He scowled at him. "No way."

"Light's green," Terasaka cut in dryly, gesturing at them to start crossing the road.

They walked quickly down the crosswalk, as time was starting to cut short to get to the mountain. The sun was still beaming brightly in the sky, which was completely clear of any clouds.

"What would you two do without me?" Terasaka grumbled.

"Probably get arrested already for something, honestly," Yoshida answered.

"Oh, yeah totally," Muramatsu agreed. "Maybe breaking and entering?"

"Arson?"

"No, I've got it!" Muramatsu snapped his fingers. "Motor vehicle theft!"

"Yes!"

Terasaka slapped his forehead. "You fools..."

"Man, don't act like you wouldn't be the one to bail us out," Yoshida grinned.

He sighed, knowing they were completely correct. "You're goddamn right I would."

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Anything

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal), Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Spanking / Whipping (with a drumstick), Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 10,418 

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Tags: @lady-bakuhoe​, @gallickingun​, @mirakumiruku​, @wakaoujisenhime​, @sunnieskies02​, @hisoknen​

Art in banner by me.

This was incredibly frustrating. Finally, after years of admiring and being an incredibly dedicated fan, you were standing in front of your favorite punk rock band. They were just a few feet from you, so close that you could reach out and touch them. How badly you wanted their full and undivided attention was near suffocating, and yet, it was so difficult for you to find the courage to speak at all. You had given them your name after you had been brought backstage for the meet up, which was a perk of the insanely expensive VIP tickets you and your friends had purchased. 

That’s all that you had been able to say. Your friend, however, was absolutely bursting with questions. You were very close to her, but damn, you wished that she would just stop talking long enough for someone else to get a word in. All day you had been brooding over what you wanted to ask, what you wanted to say to these men that had been such a huge part of your life for the last few years. Their music had inspired you, made you cry, pumped you up so much that you’d jump around your room and just jam out. But, more than that, they had saved you. You didn’t know how to explain it, or even how it happened in the first place, but you had truly begun to feel like their existence is what you lived for. 

Was that unhealthy? Probably. But who could blame you? You loved every single one of them. All five men were like your best friends, and you felt so close to them from your time following them on social media and attending their concerts. You knew them like the back of your hand, from birthdays, to favorite food, drinks, hobbies, past or current girlfriends, and you had even found out their personal telephone numbers. Had you ever called them? No, of course not. That would be creepy. 

Midoriya Izuku, the band leader and lead singer, was being the most engaging as far as answering questions. Unlike their punkish attire and aesthetic, he was like sunshine, incredibly friendly and soft with his curly green hair and freckled cheeks. He was adorable, able to make all the little fangirls scream and squeal with his grin and a cheeky wink. 

Todoroki Shouto, lead guitar and backup singer, was the quiet pretty boy of the group, breaking hearts with his intense and piercing stare. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have a soft side to him, but more than anything, he was extremely dense, and his genuine confusion was what made him so desirable. 

Kirishima Eijirou, second guitar, was another ray of sunshine amongst the black clothes and punk piercings. He loved to get the crowd riled up, his endless energy and cheery personality infectious. Out of everyone, he was the most openly friendly without a hint of shyness and treated everyone like he had known them forever. 

Kaminari Denki, bass guitar, was the group idiot. He was nice, but often did and said things that could get the group into trouble or make a fool of himself in the public eye. Funny and playful, he could make anyone laugh, either from a joke or from just being a silly fool. 

Although you adored them all, one of them had you in his grip, like your heart had been locked in a vice that grew tighter every time you saw him. The fifth member, Bakugou Katsuki, was your absolute dream man. Rough, arrogant, mean, and foul mouthed, he was the bands second in command, drummer, and backup singer for moments that required his deep and gruff voice. God, he was everything you ever wanted in a partner. Boyfriend. Husband. Whatever! You wanted him so badly that you dreamed about it constantly, picturing yourself in those strong arms or having those calloused hands on your body. Much to your misfortune, he was the most private on social media, so there was still a lot about him that you didn’t know. 

That was one of his most attractive qualities to you. His mystery and his silence. What was he really like? Was he this grumpy and off putting with those close to him? Did he have a gentle side of any kind?

You wanted to know everything about him! But, standing here in front of the entire band, you were frozen, not able to make a squeak. Even your eyes were locked on the floor, unable to look up at them in fear that you would gawk a little too intensely. Or start crying. One of the two would happen, probably. 

Your chance to interact with your heroes was slipping by with each moment, however, and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to have this chance again. What did you want to say? What questions had you thought about? You had a million of them, all you had to do was just say one. Something. Anything! 

“Bakugou-!” 

The name slipped from your lips in a sharp snap, which tapered off at the end with a tremble. Just as the sweet name left your lips, your eyes darted up, catching the confused and irritated crimson glare of the blonde drummer. At first, you were taken aback by his current appearance, still flushed and sweaty from the concert performance. His blonde spiked locks were wild and unruly, bangs stuck to the sweaty skin of his forehead and cheeks. He was so handsome, all messy and hot--

“U-uhm…” Your friend that stood beside you gave you a nudge in the side, though she was unable to pull your gaze away from Bakugou, who’s annoyed snarl made your heart begin to race. “[Name], I was about to ask something else…” 

“What’d you want to say, you damn shitty extra.” Bakugou barked at you, ignoring your friends' whine at being interrupted. “Don’t just bark out my name and then stand there like a fucking moron.” That gruff and demanding voice was intoxicating, making you involuntarily clench your thighs together and clutch at the fabric of your skirt.

“I… I was wanting to know. Uhm,” Your eyes darted across his face and his chest as you tried to think of what you had been wanting to ask him. You couldn’t remember for the life of you, but as your gaze landed on the piercing he had on the bridge of his nose, a thought popped into your head and curiosity flourished instantly. “How many piercings do… do you have?” 

Bakugou’s eyebrow cocked in initial confusion at the question, before returning to its usual furrowed position. “The fuck? That’s kind of personal, ain’t it?” 

“I’ll tell you how many I have.” You weren’t sure if the teasing, flirtatious sound of your voice was purposeful or not, but just hearing yourself made the tips of your ears flush. “Five types… Nine piercings total. I bet you beat me on that, hm?” 

“Tch, that’s fucking nothing, you little punk poser. I have nine types, thirteen total.” Bakugou shoved his hands into the pockets of his loose shorts, pulling the fabric down just enough to show the skin of his left hip and a peak of his boxers. One of the stated piercings gleamed in the light once exposed, and it took all your willpower to not hyper focus on it. “Not like you’ll ever know them all or see them.” 

“I bet I could guess.” “You’d fucking fail, moron-”

“A-ah, let’s not!” Midoriya interrupted, giving a nervous laugh and a wave of his hand to pull your attention off Bakugou. “We’re not here to talk about such personal things, you know! Right, Kacchan?” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, giving an annoyed click of his tongue. “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.” 

“Why?” You once again spoke without thinking. “Because you missed your cue during Collide?” The accusation immediately had Bakugou’s eyes widening in surprise before he scoffed, glaring crimson daggers at you.  

“Well aren’t you just a fucking super fan.” 

“I try to be.” Although you knew that he wasn’t kind to you, the fact that he noticed your extreme interest in the band made your cheeks flush, looking down at the ground between your black combat boots. The t-shirt you had paired with your skirt was your favorite that you owned of the bands merchandise, and just seeing it as you gaze down over your chest made your stomach bubble nervously. Was it really that obvious? Was it weird to him? Did he like it? 

“Ah, well, anyway!” Your friend piped in again, taking a step closer to Midoriya with a sparkle in her eyes. “Deku! Please, tell us about your girlfriend!” 

Midoriya instantly went into his flustered state of rubbing the back of his head, his stuttering and embarrassed gibberish cracking with his exhausted voice, leaving you once again off to the sidelines. With a small, quiet sigh, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, more questions burning on the tip of your tongue. In your down casted vision, you saw Bakugou’s feet shift, and there wasn’t a second thought in your mind about looking up at him. Your gaze immediately locked with his, which was still a dark and threatening glare. 

Your heart instantly skipped a beat, the heat in your cheeks growing hotter. Had he already been looking at you? Why was he glaring so intensely? You didn’t think that he would get upset with the mention of his mistake that you had pointed out, but perhaps he had gotten embarrassed? In truth, you hadn’t meant your statement to be argumentative in any way. You were more concerned about him. Messing up during a performance was a big deal, and though most people might not have noticed, you were curious if it was eating at him or if he just doesn’t care. 

Then, he made a move that you didn’t expect. With a quiet click of his tongue, he began to make his way out of the room, only stopping at the door when Kirishima spoke up. 

“Woah, man, where are you going?” The redhead interrupted Midoriya, who also looked at Bakugou curiously. 

“I work a lot harder than all of you assholes during a show! I’m sick of fucking standing around, and these losers aren’t even interesting. I’ll be in my room.” Before anyone could stop him, the door slammed shut with his exit, and you turned your attention to Midoriya as he sighed. 

“A-aha, I’m sorry about Kacchan! He’s uh… he doesn’t like meetups much.” 

“That’s a shame…” You mumbled under your breath, already missing his presence. You could still feel that glare on you, so threatening and dangerous. This had been your chance to really make yourself stand out from the crowd and show him how genuinely interested you were in him, and you wasted it. You cared about him more than these other women that fawned over him like brainless zombies. You were perfect for him. You knew you were, without a doubt, and you wanted him. 

It was true that the rest of the band members were close to your heart, that you admired all of them as your heroes. But Bakugou… You had just ruined your chance to talk with him and get to know him. 

There wasn’t anything else you could do.

“Is there a bathroom I can use?” Your question once again popped out of your mouth during the middle of a conversation, though instead of stopping it, Kirishima smiled at you sweetly. His kind face and gentle touch to your arm to lead you away from the group so he could talk to you had your heart racing, almost too scared to take a step in fear that you’d trip with how distracted you were by his face. 

“Yeah, babe. Go left down the hall, you’ll see it marked. Don’t get yourself into trouble, m’kay?” 

B-babe? Aahh, why would he call me that? He’s too sweet for his own good. Cheeks flushing, you gave a small nod, thanking him quietly before heading out of the room, taking a final quick glance at the group behind you to catch Kirishima giving you a playful wave. Of course, by the time you stepped outside into the hallway, Bakugou had already vanished. Using what you had remembered of the route to get to this room from backstage, you hadn’t seen anything that was labeled as a changing room for any of the men. So, you went left down the hall as you had originally been instructed, glancing at each door you passed to see if there were any names scribbled on the dry erase board many of them sported. 

Your heart nearly stopped when you finally saw it. Bakugou Katsuki, written in red marker with a shitty doodle of what looked to be a hand holding up the middle finger, along with the words “fuck off”. Before going in, you took a moment to press your ear up against the door, listening closely to see if there were any signs of life. There wasn’t a single sound or hint of movement, so gathering your courage and glancing up and down the hall for danger, you took hold of the doorknob, your heart beginning to race as it moved without resistance. 

With a quiet click, the door opened, not making another sound as you cracked it just enough to look inside. The lights were on, and your suspicions that he hadn’t been inside were confirmed. Feeling a bit discouraged, you considered just going back to the room to finish off your time with the rest of the band. That would probably be enough to satisfy your longing for them, right? The others could be great company, and maybe Bakugou would come back before you left. 

But, deep in your chest, you could feel the need to be with Bakugou alone to talk to him one on one. You wanted his attention more than anything, and you knew that there wasn’t going to be another chance for you to see him this close again any time soon. No, you couldn’t run away. You had already come too far to back out now. What’s the worst he could do? Kick you out? Call security to have you removed? Call you names? Press you up against the wall and threaten you? 

Ah, well, maybe that wasn’t all that bad. You’d probably melt in his hands and collapse on the floor in a blushing puddle of tears if he so much as touched you. 

Gathering your resolve, you pushed yourself on into the room, walking lightly and glancing this way and that to make sure he wasn’t just laying on some furniture or something to take a nap. Feeling confident that he wasn’t in the room, you shut the door behind you with a light click, taking a few timid steps into the room. Almost instantly, you were completely engulfed by the scent of his body spray, which you had only been faintly able to pick up while in the group. It was such a powerful scent, bold and intense, just like him. How quickly just the simple scent of him made your core burning hot was a bit staggering, feeling your knees already growing weak and your chest growing tight. 

This is harder than I thought… Just from smelling him like this I feel like I’m going crazy. And he’s not even in here! I should leave before I get too distracted… But… This is his stuff! 

Beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed being in the presence of Bakugou’s possessions, your teary gaze scanned the room methodically, surprised to see that the room was actually very well kept. With his brash personality, you more expected Bakugou’s personal space to be a wreck, but the only thing that was really out of place was a small pile of clothes tossed aside next to a suitcase. A desire to be close to Bakugou driving you, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation as you made your way towards it, squatting down. Right on top was the tank top he had just been wearing, still soaked with his sweat. It was the most recent thing that had touched his body. It still had his essence all over it. How could you just leave it there? 

Picking it up, you brought the shirt up to your nose, inhaling deeply. It was absolutely delicious, your body quivering from the excitement and adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins. You were actually holding one of Bakugou’s sweaty shirts in your hands, one that he had just performed in! This was absolutely real. It wasn’t a dream!

Becoming overwhelmed with your feelings for him, you flopped back to sit on your butt, spreading your legs open. Since you were wearing fishnet hose with decently large holes, you had direct access to your already soaked pussy, the little lace thong easily moved aside. Now, all that existed to you was the scent wafting off his shirt and your fingers eagerly stroking your sex, alternating between stroking your clit and digging two of your fingers inside you. The cloth of the t-shirt pressed up against your lips and nose, you panted and moaned softly against it, imagining that you were right up against his chest, his fingers teasing your cunt. 

You were so engrossed in your fantasy that you could even hear him taunting you, that deep growl of his voice in your ear. 

“That’s right, babygirl. You like when I finger that slutty pussy, don’t you?” 

“You’re so fucking wet, you little whore. Dripping all for me.” 

“Getting horny just from the smell on my clothes? You dirty fuck.” 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

The sudden rattling boom of a familiar yell startled you out of your pleasant daydream, turning your moan into a squeal as you nearly jumped out of your skin. Spinning around, you were met with the wide-eyed shocked crimson glare of your dream man, who was standing halfway in the room, as if he had stopped in his tracks upon seeing you. All you could do was sit there in shock, still holding his shirt up to your face as your other hand tried to pull your skirt down between your legs, as if to hide your sin. 

“I,” Stuttering, you tried to gather yourself, clenching your thighs together tightly. “I, uhm, Bakugou, it’s not- How’d you… get in?” 

His shocked expression contorted into one of confusion, then into annoyance, his brows furrowed deeply as he startled at you. “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t lock the door, ya dumb cunt.” Walking the rest of the way inside, he slammed the door shut loudly behind him, startling you again enough to scurry back against the wall, your knees pulled up to your chest protectively. “What the fuck are you even questioning me for? You’re the horny bitch sitting on my floor sniffing my fucking clothes and touching yourself.” Without having to look back at the doorknob, Bakugou gave the little lock a twist, setting the latch firmly in place. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you could only stare at him, your eyes captivated by that fierce glare. How hot he made you only intensified now that he was back in your presence, and more than that, the asshole was even shirtless. His flawless muscular figure made your mouth feel dry, as if any and all liquid your body could produce was pooling between your legs. It was everything you could do not to start touching yourself again, clutching onto his shirt with both hands tightly. “I… I’m sorry. I just… I-” 

“You’re just a damn psycho fan, aren’t ya?” Reaching up to give his hair a quick ruffle, Bakugou started making his way towards you, his ruined and ragged skater shoes squeaking against the smooth wooden floor. “I’m surprised you didn’t rip your shirt off during the fucking concert and throw your bra on stage.” 

“I’m not stupid like those girls… I have dignity. And I don’t want a bunch of other people seeing my tits anyway.” Your voice lowered down to a meek whisper by the time he stood in front of you, both of his hands on his hips, as if he were about to scold you like an angry parent. With him so close, your eyes glanced over every inch of his bare torso, drinking in how absolutely flawless he was. What was even more enticing was the piercings he had so proudly boasted about not long ago, a pair of them placed on his collarbones, nipples, and hips. 

“Tch, dignity?” Bakugou scoffed, a sly smirk crossing his lips. “‘Dignity’, the little slut says, as she sits on the floor in my dressing room fucking herself to the stench on my shirt. Pathetic.” 

“What are… Are you going to kick me out?” 

“There’s a lot that I could do to you,” Bakugou’s smirk turned wicked, his lips curling up to show his gums. “But how about you tell me what the fuck you were doing in here?” 

“I just… I really wanted to get an autograph or picture with you. You’re my,” Your breath caught in your throat, not wanting to let it slip that he was your absolute dream man. “You’re my favorite band member.” 

“Then what are you doing with my clothes?” 

An intense burning suddenly rushed to your cheeks with a new round of embarrassment, and with it came the stinging sensation of tears building up in your eyes. What had you been doing? You had just wanted to talk to him more, to get to know him better, and just spend time with your hero. And yet, you had let yourself get completely overwhelmed by a burning desire for him, one that was just too strong to ignore in the moment of solitude with his possessions. You knew that you had a very intense crush on him, but that bad and that… gross? You had told yourself over and over that you weren’t like the desperate women who would do anything filthy to get his attention, yet here you were, sniffing his clothes and touching yourself. 

“I… I don’t know what I was doing.” Your voice quivered as you avoided looking at him, trying to blink the tears away. “That was really gross of me. I had just… wanted to see you in private. I wasn’t getting a chance to talk to you, to any of you, and… I just wanted my chance.” 

“You wanted your chance, eh?” Bakugou brought a hand up to his chin, rubbing it as if he were in thought, contemplating his options. “So much that you’d sneak into my room, to wait for me or try to corner me?” 

Swallowing the lump that had grown in your throat, you coward down back against the wall, wishing that you could just shrink away in shame. Your impulses had completely ruined your chances. He had to think you were a total freak by now, he’d never want to even give you the time of day. 

“Ya know,” Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, taking a half step closer to you. His posture and presence over you was so aggressive and domineering that you couldn’t find it in yourself to move, only pulling your legs up tighter to your chest to try and get further away from him. “You talk all big, saying that you’re not like those other extras out there that’ll drop their pants in seconds for me. That you have ‘dignity’. But I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re just like those other sluts out there, a stupid whore that is driven by nothing but her cunt.” 

You gave a small shake of your head, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs and the swirling in your stomach from how he was treating you. You couldn’t believe it was turning you on so much. “No, I… That isn’t what I wanted.” 

“I think it is. You’re disgusting. Nothing but a filthy super fan and a stalker. Why don’t you just admit it?” 

“Because… It’s not true. I love you, but not… It’s not all like that.” 

“If you loved me, you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” The change in tone caught you off guard, his voice no longer accusatory and vicious. Instead, his growl was almost soothing, as if he were trying to calm your frantic thoughts of failure. “You’d do anything to stay in the same room as me. To just be able to fucking look at me or get a shitty autograph, hm?” 

“I would… yes.” Your heart racing, you tried to blink away the tears still prickling in your eyes, but they were persistent. “But if you want me to leave, I’ll… do that, too. I shouldn’t have come here like this in the first place…” 

“You regret it?” Bakugou moved his hands back to his hips, his fingers resting against the pristine shape of his hips with such rugged and confident posture. You were so conflicted on your feelings, and that question only made your throat grow tight. Did you regret it? All your actions up to this point had gotten you here, alone in his room with him, and no matter what the interaction was or may end up being, just getting to be here was a dream come true. 

But what would you do? Would you really do anything he asked of you? Anything? In truth, you didn’t think that you had the courage and you would just annoy him until he kicked you out. What would he even want from you in the first place? You weren’t innocent enough to not have noticed the bulge beneath the zipper of his shorts, pressing up into the fabric. Was this entire situation, having you cowering on the floor in front of him like this, actually turning him on? Did he… like you, then? Was he attracted to you? 

“I asked you a question.” Bakugou snapped when you didn’t answer him, leaning forward a bit to glower down at you with that typical snarl. 

“I don’t… I don’t regret it. I just don’t want to upset you.” 

“Aw, don’t want to upset me, eh?” With a click of his tongue, Bakugou’s snarl stretched into a smirk. “Poor little stalker, scared to upset me. Don’t worry, babygirl. Just do what I ask, and you won’t upset me.” 

“Really? You’re not upset?” 

“Not at all, babe. But you have to do what I say. You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” The condescending growl of his voice was lost to you, only able to latch on to the pet names and hope of getting back on his good side.

“Yes.” 

“Because you’re not like those other girls. You're my number one fan. Aren’t you?” 

A new burning of heat and tears flared up, unable to stop the happy smile on your lips. “Yes. Yes! I am! I love you so much-”

“Get on your knees.” 

Smile faltering, you were confused by the demand, looking up at Bakugou through your gathered tears. “What?” 

“Get on your fucking knees.” Bakugou snapped again, the gleam in his glare almost… sinister. Still, there was something in you that begged for you to comply, and just like your impulses earlier, you couldn’t ignore it. Squeezing the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands, you slowly shifted yourself up onto your knees as demanded, though the space between him and the wall was limited. Worried about your face being too close to his crotch, you sat back mostly on your legs, but he was quick to correct you. 

“All the way up on your knees.” 

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you pushed yourself up to be kneeling, your eyes glancing and looking everywhere but at the crotch of his baggy blank punk shorts, which reached his knees and ended in tattered fabric. The chains on both hips rattled lightly as he shifted his weight to his other foot, and that slight sound pulled your eyes to look at them, and thus at his crotch. At this angle, you could truly see how strained he was, the form of his cock clearly visible. The heat in your cheeks grew fiercer just thinking about what was just a few inches from your nose, and what was worse, the smell of him was overwhelming all your senses. He must have just recently reapplied his spray after sweating like mad for hours on end, but even his natural scent was enticing. 

“What are you looking at, babe?” 

Bakugou’s voice broke you out of your stupor, bringing you to look up at his face. “Nothing… Just, well…” Your voice tapered off, unable to find it within you to ask him. He obviously had a boner, but what the hell did that mean?

“Open your mouth. Keep those pretty eyes on my face.” His commands had grown softer, as if he were purring at you to keep you compliant. Opening your mouth as told, you peered up at him through your lashes, tilting your head back a little. The way his smirk grew had your skin tingling, but that isn’t what had all your attention. Your focus was on his hips, listening to the rustling of fabric and watching the movement of his arms through your peripheral vision. “Good girl. Now stick out your tongue. And don’t move.” 

Slowly, your tongue lolled out, and the low groan he gave in satisfaction of your obedience had you opening your mouth wider. As you sat there waiting for him, you could feel the saliva beginning to dribble down your chin and along the length of your tongue, gathering in a slick pool before dripping off the tip of your tongue to the floor. 

Suddenly, you felt a hard and hot presence slap against your tongue, making you squeak and recoil back. Though, before you could get far, your hair was in Bakugou’s fist, yanking you back up into position and peering up at him in shocked fear. He was visibly agitated, but his smirk was still wide, teeth bared. 

“What do you think you’re doing, slut? I said don’t move. You told me you’d do anything I say.” 

Trembling now, you pulled your gaze from his to look at his hips, pressing your lips together tightly as you gazed upon his erect cock. As he held it steady with his free hand, you couldn’t help but take in every detail, from the girth and length, the prominent veins and ridges, and the frenum barbell piercing nestled just under the blushing head. It was truly the most attractive cock you had ever seen in your life, and a fire began to rage in your core as you realized that was what had just hit your tongue. 

Bakugou’s cock… He… He wants me to suck him off? What if I’m not good enough… I shouldn’t! 

You could feel the heat of your essence beginning to dribble down your thighs, your poor excuse for underwear and hose completely soaked through. You could feel the throbbing all the way into your stomach, and it was impossible to deny that you were the horniest you had ever been. But this isn’t what you had expected or wanted to do. Was it? 

“That’s what you said, isn’t it?” Bakugou pulled your head a bit closer, giving you a few rough smacks to the cheek with his impressive cock. “You would do anything for me.” With your lips still tightly closed, he ran the tip of his cock across them, smearing his precum along your skin. “So be a good girl and give my cock a little kiss. Be sweet, now.” 

Although the demand was embarrassing, the pressure of his grip on your hair and his cock literally at your lips made you feel like you truly didn’t have a choice. He was in control of all of this. He could do anything he wanted. He could get you arrested, even. You had to do what he said, not only for your own benefit, but because you adored him. So, you placed a tender kiss right beneath the head, your eyes fluttering closed. Abandoning the t-shirt in your hands, you reached up to softly caress his cock, using your grip to move it up to give you more access to the underside. Your kisses were quite timid at first, but as one lingered against the underside of his shaft, the pulsing you could feel against your lips made your body ache. 

Eventually, your kisses became more passionate, even giving light suckles and little kitten licks, teasing the piercing and the sensitive head. Hearing him groan with the attention pulled your eyes up to look at him, a bit surprised to see that his cheeks were quite flushed, and his smirk had faded. Was he really enjoying this? 

Bracing himself against the wall with his free hand, Bakugou only further crushed you with his overwhelming presence and dominance, making you pause in worry. “Good girl. Now open your fucking mouth.” 

The instant your lips parted wide enough, Bakugou simultaneously pulled your head and pressed his hips forward, shoving his cock into your mouth, the tip stopping at the back of your tongue. Squeaking and groaning in surprise of the forced entry, you clutched on tightly to his thighs, only just having noticed that his shorts had fallen around his feet. His boxers had simply been pushed down out of the way, but the elastic kept them up on his hips for now. You were unable to move, his grip on your hair too tight to pull back. He didn’t want you to do the work? 

“That’s it, baby. Keep that mouth nice and open for my cock. You don’t gag easily do you?” You could hear the feigned concern in the question, and the only answer you could give is a furrow of your brow, new tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Oh well. Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” 

It was then that Bakugou began to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth slow and shallow. You were actually surprised that he started out so cautious, but you could tell that the pleasure was beginning to grow quickly. “Fuck babe, you’re such a good little slut for me.” Ever so slightly, he began to thrust faster and deeper, until the tip of his cock was hitting against the back of your throat. You were lucky that you didn’t have a strong gag reflex, as you knew that anyone who did would have already puked all over him. But you could take it. You could take it for him, to let him have his way with you just to stay with him a little longer. 

Though, you were finding that it was difficult, breathing in through your nose and trying to distract yourself from the burning in your jaw. Each thrust had your nose touching his pelvis and his balls slapping against your chin, which was coated in drool that dripped freely. It was so difficult to handle him, in fact, that you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks, only further displacing your already ruined makeup from crying earlier. You were a mess already, but the fire within you didn’t falter. If not for needing to grip onto his thighs to keep you balanced, you would be touching yourself again, the craving for your own pleasure just as suffocating as the dick in your throat. 

Still, your struggles were worth it. You got to watch Bakugou’s expression, his brow no longer furrowed in anger but in pleasure, his eyes glazed over with the undying need for release. His face was flushed and sweat was already beginning to drip down along his skin, his body still affected by the intense performance he hadn’t finished not even an hour ago. The way his body moved, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your grip on his thighs. He was so gorgeous. 

You had expected him to finish in your mouth, but after some time of fucking your throat raw, he stopped, holding the back of your head as he dug his cock as deep in as he could. You groaned and whined from the pressure, wishing desperately for relief while pushing on his thighs. With his own groan and hiss of pleasure, Bakugou pulled out of your mouth slowly, his smirk returning as he took in the sight of you. “You should see yourself. Filthy. Keep your tongue out.” When he finally removed himself completely, you took in a deep breath, gasping and panting to try and recover from the brutality you had to endure. Your tongue, however, stayed out as he demanded, allowing him to rub the underside of his tip against it. 

“You’re fuckin’ hot, you know that? So fucking sexy. I bet you have a nice tight little pussy, too.” After a few rough slaps of his cock against your tongue, he took a step back, stepping out of his shorts as he did so as well as his shoes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. “Stand the fuck up.” 

Swallowing hard, you took the moment of getting to your feet to wipe your chin of the mess of liquids, but you didn’t get much time to steady yourself. Snatched by the arm, Bakugou dragged you over a few feet towards the couch, grabbing you once again by the hair and forcing you down over the armrest. The couch was quite tall, so with your upper body pressed into the cushions and your hips snuggly in place against the armrest, you could barely touch the floor with your tiptoes. It was another uncomfortable position, but you ignored the pressure on your belly as your ass was suddenly exposed to the cold air of the room, your skirt flipped up out of the way. 

“Fuck you have a nice ass.” Gripping your backside with both hands firmly, Bakugou squeezed and spread you open, taking in the pleasant view. “What a fucking punk poser you are with these shitty fishnets. They don’t even do shit.” Digging his fingers into the holes along your crotch, he gave a rough yank, ripping the fabric open to give him easy access. “Holy fucking shit, you should see how wet you are, babygirl.” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his thumb stroking along your sex, the slick that coated your skin giving him no resistance. You could feel it, all over your inner thighs and aching cunt, but now your favorite person in the entire world could see it, too. He could see how wet he made you, how getting tossed around by him made you feel. 

I… I didn’t agree to all of this. I know it isn’t right. I didn’t want it to go this far, but… How can I stop him? Why would I stop him? He’s… I love him so much! I want him to touch me, even though I know I shouldn’t--

Your thoughts were cut off by your own gasp, your body tensing and legs bending at the knee involuntarily at the sudden pleasure that rocked through your body. You knew what it was, his tongue hot and eager against your clit as he ate you out. The sounds of him lapping at your cunt and grunting in delight at the taste of you had your mind spinning, the pleasure devouring your body. Not wanting to be heard by anyone outside, you moaned and gasped into the fabric of the couch cushion, digging your nails into it as you did everything you could to not writhe out of his grip. 

You were so sensitive to his touch that you could feel everything, from his nails digging into your hips to the way his tongue piercing slid across your clit. It was as if he knew exactly how to use it to be able to drive you completely insane, the hard metal sending shocks of lightning through your body with each stroke and flick. 

“Ba-Bakugou, ahh-!” You tugged and pulled at the couch cushion in your grip, digging the toes of your boots into the floor. “It’s too much! Wait--!” 

“Too much? Don’t be such a fucking wimp. You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You can take anything I give you.” As he stood back up, you looked up at him over your shoulder, having to peek through your messy hair to see him. That wicked and excited smirk was back, and you were only able to watch as he gripped your ass in his hands, sliding his cock between your cheeks to coat himself in your essence. “And I know what you want me to give to you. You want my dick inside you, babygirl?” 

Immediately, you stomach rolled nervously, eyes on the tip of his cock and the precum dribbling from it. You were on birth control, there wasn’t necessarily anything risky about that, but there was something else that pricked at the back of your mind. If you did this with him, then you knew that you could never settle for another man. You would want him forever, as you always had, but would you ever get a chance like this again? Would you ever even see him again after today? 

It doesn’t matter… I’ll do it! 

“Yes! Yes, Bakugou, I want you.” You were surprised as he leaned away from you for a moment, though what he was doing was quickly made clear as he came back into full view with a drumstick. The way that it was beaten and chipped told you that it was one he had used that performance, and the other was probably close by, set to be discarded or handed out to fans. 

“And why do you want me?” Bakugou dug the stick into your hose, giving a sharp yank to further rip the delicate fabric and expose more of your ass to him fully. “Just because I’m your favorite of the band?” 

“No!” You couldn’t help but become defensive. “I… I care about you more than that!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as he began to run the tip of the stick across your skin towards your cunt, mind racing with thoughts of what he was going to do with it. You could still feel and see his cock between your cheeks, hot and pulsing, and you were honestly surprised that he could hold out to tease you this long. Just seeing you like this, bent over and so submissive, was enough to keep him going long enough to torture you a bit. 

“You love me? Even though I’ve slapped you, pulled your hair, and fucked your throat until you went hoarse? Even though I have your ass bent over the couch and haven’t given you any more than a few minutes of pleasure?” Suddenly, he brought the stick down hard onto your ass, making you yelp out and tremble beneath him. The pain was so good! You wanted that again, and you received it without having to ask, a moan slipping from your lips. 

“Yes! I’ll love you no matter what you do to me! Always! I love it when you throw me around and use me like this! Please, use me more! I’m your little slut, Bakugou--” You were silenced as he leaned over you, his palm pressing into the side of your face and pushing the hair roughly away from obscuring your flushed and teary features. Now with your full attention, Bakugou smirked, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“No, no, my pet. Call me by my name.” 

The heat that rushed to your face made even his burning palms feel cool, trying to blink the tears away as they rushed down the side of your nose to soak into the couch. Was he being serious? He wanted you to call him by name… by his first name. Something that he never allowed anyone but those close to him to do, and you had seen him on more than one occasion snap at people when they did it. He was huge on respect and feeling dominant over others, so to him, his given name was sacred. 

“Ka… Katsuki…” You couldn’t speak any louder than an airy whisper, though his reaction was enough to tell you that he enjoyed it. Smirk growing, Bakugou sat up from over your back, his fingers curling into your ruined hair as he began to rut his hips against you. His cock stroked slowly against your ass, his tip teasingly pressing into your cunt before slipping up back between your cheeks. 

“Again.” The drumstick still in his free hand, he brought it down hard onto the already abused and welted cheek, right as your voice had begun to leave your lips. 

“Ka-ah! Katsuki!” With another whack, your body instinctively tried to shift away from him, though all it did was off set his cock. His tip slipped into you, making you pause, both from the feeling and from the irritated growl that left his chest. 

“What a naughty little bitch, trying to get me to fuck you before I say so.” 

“N-no, it was just--” 

“-- Well if you want it so fucking bad, I’ll give it to you!” Abandoning your hair and the drumstick, he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, sinking his cock into you with one quick snap of his hips. “I’ll show you who fucking owns you!” 

You didn’t have time to think or respond as he began to fuck you, fast and hard. Already, the pleasure was overwhelming, rolling through your body like electricity. It was perfect, everything you had ever imagined and more. The way he filled you up to the absolute brim, not leaving a single inch of you untouched, had the coil in your core tightening so quickly that you couldn’t even think about how to restrain it. You were going to cum very quickly, and you had never wanted to so badly in your life. 

“How does my cock feel inside you, slut?” 

“G-good,” You struggled to choke out a response behind your moans, which squeaked with surprise as he picked up the pace. “It feels good!” 

“You want to cum all over it, don’t you?” 

“Yes!” 

“Beg for it.” 

At first, you couldn’t even comprehend what he was asking you, your mind growing hazy to everything but the pleasure. “I… please!” You reached back, clutching onto his hand tightly, digging your nails into his skin in hopes that it would keep him latched to you. “Please! Please let me cum, Katsuki! I want to cum all over your cock! I love it!” 

When the pleasure stopped, all you could do was sit there in shock, the emptiness you felt as he pulled out of you making your stomach sink. Had you said the wrong thing? Before you could really ask him, you were grabbed by the elbows and lifted up off the couch, your body flipped so you were sitting on the armrest with your legs now loosely hooked around his hips. In the next moment, his strong arms were around your body, one hooked around your hips to pull them snug against his own while the other supported your upper body. What shocked you more than that was the fierceness of his lips against yours, kissing you with intense passion and aggressiveness that you couldn’t help but to give in. 

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you moaned and gasped softly into the kiss, his hips once again rutting against yours to stroke his length against your clit. For a moment, things seemed to feel different than they had during this entire experience. It wasn’t as if he were using you anymore, doing everything entirely for his own benefit. Instead, his touch was attentive, caressing you and moving your body into position without force. Even the way he kissed you was quick to change, from dominating your mouth to a more tender sweetness. You didn’t ever want it to end, but you allowed it when he pulled away, gazing up into his piercing crimson gaze as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“I want to see that pretty face when you cum.” The growl against your lips was teetering on threatening, as if he were warning you to not even think about turning away or hiding your face in his shoulder. “I want to see how good my cock makes you feel, baby. So cum all over it like a good girl.” As he began to sink his cock into you slowly, you couldn’t control your reactions to it, Your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as he bottomed out inside you, even biting down onto your bottom lip as you whined. 

“Yes, Katsuki--” Your voice hitched as he began to thrust into you again, his cock reaching even deeper inside you that it had been before. “--Please watch my face… See how happy you make me!” 

“That’s right, you slut. That’s because you belong to me, don’t you? You’d do anything for me.” As he fucked you, he relied on your grip on him to keep you up, both of his hands moving to grip your hips again. As the pleasure began to boil, you dug your nails into his back, your voice spiking as he became rougher with the added pain. 

“Yes! Yes, anything! I’ll be your little slut forever, Katsuki! Just please don’t stop!” It was impossible to tear your eyes away from his even if you wanted to, but it was more than just the fact that they were intoxicating. He may have wanted to watch your face for the visual expressions of pleasure, but he didn’t realize that his demand to keep your eyes on him gave away more than he probably had expected to. There was no anger or frustration that you had seen before. Instead, he seemed absolutely overwhelmed with the pleasure himself, just as you were, and the flushing of his cheeks paired with his upwards furrowed brow gave him almost a… desperate look. Like he was pushing himself to make sure he was fucking you as well as he possibly could. 

Was he feeling some self-consciousness about all of this, too? Or regret for pushing you to this, unwillingly at first? You didn’t know, and you knew in the end he wouldn’t tell you if you asked. 

“Fucking hell, babygirl, your pussy is so fucking tight,” Bakugou pressed his forehead against yours again, wrapping his arms back around your waist to hold you closer, both to the edge of the armrest and his body. “You’re the best fuck I’ve had in months. I hope you’re ready for my cum all over that pretty face--” 

“No!” You moved your arms to wrap around his neck instead, one hand pressing against the back of his head with fingers tangled in his hair. “Come inside me! Please, Katsuki, I want you to fill me up! It’s okay--” Your voice cracked with a cry of pleasure, your encouragement pushing him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

“Then cum for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock.” 

With that command, you couldn’t hold the coil still any longer. It shattered with his movements inside you, each rough hit of his tip against your cervix only prolonging your orgasm and sending wave after wave of harsh pleasure through your body. Trembling, you squeezed onto him tightly, clutching a fist full of his hair and kissing him roughly, moaning and sighing softly into the kiss as he didn’t give you a moment to breathe. Within moments after your climax, his thrusts became slower and erratic, before he was finally able to release. 

Groaning and cursing against your lips, Bakugou kept his gaze locked with yours, not giving you any room to move or pull back as he came inside you. How hot it was coating your walls made you shiver, squeezing his hips with your thighs and pulling yourself in closer. It was an incredible high, and as you both came down from it together, you both loosened your grip on each other. 

For a moment, you stayed connected, your head on his shoulder with your forehead pressed against his neck, able to feel his pulse against your skin and his chest heaving against yours. Had all of this really just happened? You were pressed up against your crush, his arms wrapped around you with one large hand stroking up and down your back softly. It was so strange compared to his aggressive demeanor just moments before. You knew that it should have made you happy, but instead, all it did was confuse you, and you felt a new wave of tears rush down your flushed cheeks. 

Able to feel your tears run down his chest, Bakugou gave a click of his tongue, prying you off him with little pressure. In the same moment, he slipped his semi flaccid dick from within your still aching cunt, pulling his boxers back into place to cover himself. “Fucking crying again? Seriously?” 

Steadying yourself on the armrest with your hands, you kept your gaze downcast, squeezing your legs together as you could feel his cum beginning to leak out. “I’m sorry, Bakugou, I just--” 

“--Katsuki!” 

His loud correction made you jump, looking up at his face in shock as he glowered down at you. His cheeks were still flushed red, but you were unsure if it was from the exertion of what you had just done or from something else. Reaching over, Bakugou wiped your cheeks roughly with his thumbs, before giving you a bump to the bottom of your chin, as if telling you to cheer up. “I already fucking told you, psycho fan. Katsuki.” 

“Right. I… should I leave now?” 

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you stared up at Bakugou expectantly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. With another click of his tongue, Bakugou bent over and snatched the forgotten drum stick up off the floor, taking a few steps away towards the vanity that was neatly organized with what you assumed he wore during a performance. Picking up what looked like a marker, Bakugou wrote something on the thick end of the drumstick, before presenting it to you. “Here.” 

Feeling your throat begin to close up as nerves began to take hold of you, it took you a moment to even find the courage to look at the stick, scared of what he might have written on it. Of course, it was probably just his autograph, which he had promised you at the beginning of all this. There wasn’t much time to look at it, though, before Bakugou huffed, shoving it against your chest and forcing you to grab it. “Take the damn thing!” 

Body still feeling quite weak, you squeaked as you fell backwards onto the couch from his push, clutching the drumstick tightly. You could see the tips of Bakugou’s ears flush as he scoffed, pointing towards the door that led out into the hallway. It was… cute. 

“Will you get out! Fuck, you’ve wasted enough of my time for now, go back to your friends!” 

For now…? 

Sitting up, you took a moment to fix your hair and wipe your face again, using the edge of your shirt to help you. “Do I look clean enough?” 

“You look just as fucking hot as you did when I first walked in. Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.” Walking over towards his pile of laundry, Bakugou picked up the shirt he had caught you with, tossing it at you and hitting you in the face. “And take that shit with you! You like it so much; you can have it.” 

Clutching both of your new prized possessions close to your chest, you hopped up like an excited child, smiling wide and squealing as you hopped towards the door. “Aahh, thank you, Katsuki! Thank you! I’m… sorry again for intruding…” 

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for the welts on your ass. Now fuck off!” Bakugou barked again, trying to rush you out for whatever reason. Stepping outside, you couldn’t help but take a moment to lean back against the wall when the door shut, breathing heavily and blushing fiercely. In truth, you weren’t sure what to make of that entire endeavor, thrown into a confusing mix of shame, embarrassment, arousal, and longing. You shouldn’t have done that, and yet, you just didn’t want to leave his side. 

“Got a little lost, didn’t ya, babe?” 

The squeal that left your lips was quickly doused by the t-shirt in your hand, jumping and nearly slamming yourself back against the wall in shock of the unexpected voice. Standing across the hall was Kirishima, whose presence you were surprised you didn’t notice immediately. The mischievous smirk on his lips quickly widened into a pleasant grin, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall to stand up straight. Had he been waiting for you to come out?

“You skipped the bathroom, you know! It’s down that way. I decided to come look for you before we were forced to call security guards, but I guess Bakugou found you first.” 

“A-ah, sorry! I… saw him go in his room and I just wanted an autograph.” Holding your treasures close to your chest, your stomach rolled nervously as Kirishima leaned in closer, his eyes locked on the visible part of the drumstick. 

“Aahh, I get it! Bakugou can be kind of a jerk, I’m surprised! But uh… if you want to convince anyone else that you were just getting an autograph, you should really go to the bathroom. I’m sure Bakugou didn’t give you a mirror, but you look like you had a real good time.” You could hear the tone in his voice lower from friendly to flirtatious, and you quickly tried to fix your hair. 

“H-he told me I looked fine!” 

“To him you probably do. May I?” Still grinning with a friendly disposition, you glanced at both of Kirishima’s hands as he held them up in an offering of help, before nodding timidly. He began to run his rough fingers through your hair, fixing it back into a state of normalcy with a tender touch that was so opposite to what you had just experienced with Bakugou. “You’re cute. I can see why he was so into you right away.” 

“That isn’t… normal for him?” Your eyes glanced over Kirishima’s exposed muscular arms and sides, the deep cut in the arms of his tank showing all the way to his hips. You thought you saw his smile turn sly out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Nah sweetheart. Bakugou might be a lot of things, but he doesn’t go for random chicks.” Seemingly satisfied, Kirishima also used his thumbs to wipe your cheeks and under your eyes. “Such a messy thing.” 

“Thank you, Kirishima… I’m… I’m really sorry for causing you trouble.” Your heartbeat grew heavier as the redhead in front of you didn’t step back, towering over you just as the blonde had. “I’ll go to the restroom and then... Back to the group.” 

With a chuckle, Kirishima nodded, tapping the end of the drumstick a few times. “You do that! I’ll meet you back there, just going to have a few words with our drummer. Careful with this stuff, yeah? Someone might just try to take it.” 

“I will…”

“Go on, then, scoot.” With a nudge, you were pushed forward down the hall gently, only taking a moment to look back at the pleasant smiling man behind you. He was so different from Bakugou and yet they were the closest friends in the band. You knew that Bakugou was going to tell him everything, and you could only hope that it was going to end up a positive conversation. You hated the thought of Kirishima spending the rest of the VIP visit looking at you in disgust, or even the possibility of him putting you down in front of everyone. 

Flustered, you scurried down the hall into the bathroom, slipping into a stall. After pushing down what was left of your hoes and your drenched thong, you plopped to sit, relieving yourself as you held the t-shirt and drumstick close to your chest. Though, it dawned on you that you hadn’t even looked at what Bakugou had written on the stick, so growing curious, you held it with both hands and spun it slowly to look over every inch. The ridges, dents, and splints in the wood were marks of every beat Bakugou had played, a solid crack down the middle representing just how powerful he was. 

In truth, you felt like that drumstick. You were always a splintered person, emotionally broken and splintered off from the world. And yet, Bakugou had touched you with his passion. But did that mean that you were truly broken now? Could you ever be used again by any other person, or would you snap into pieces the instant your heart tried to find its beat again? 

Eyes tearing up, you tried to blink them away, carefully running your finger along the crack until it met with a smudge of black writing. Unlike what you expected, there was no autograph. Instead, the words “Call Me” were scribbled in the black ink, along with a series of numbers. 

Is that… his cell phone number?! It’s different from what I had found… Those must have been fakes.

Reaching down into your boot, you pulled out your phone, having placed it there for safe keeping, though you were surprised it stayed in place the entire time in Bakugou’s room. Without an ounce of hesitation, you created his contact and started a message, sending it so quickly you didn’t even consider the consequences, though his words did ring in your ear loud enough to make you think he was right beside you. 

“Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.”

He said to call him, but… texting is the same, right?

Me 10:45 pm: Katsuki? 

Bakugou 10:47 pm: hey babygirl. ever been to an after party? 

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Author's Notes ♡: Hi there hey! Welcome back to another collab piece!! This round I try to have him in his pro hero line of work and being his usual soft and caring self. It’s a bit soft but also heated at the end sooo, I love making a softer Kiri so enjoy!! I hope I did this justice~ bunny ❥

Warnings : NSFW again! (◎_◎;)

A use of pet names like twice, if you squint you’ll see a bit size kink and Soft Dom Kiri, fingering, Light cursing, pussy job, Kiri is a soft but huge lover

Word count : About 3.3k!

Paring(s) : Pro hero!Eijiro Kirishima x F!Reader

Summary : Kirishima was used to saving people, and having the joy that comes with it and completing his job, so what happens when he falls for the girl that is his main link to a case?

Enjoy ♡

———————————————————————

Kirishima knew taking this mission with Fatgum would be one of their more challenging ones : A drug ring filtered out throughout a high end hotel with an escort and stripping service. Supposedly they'd traffic with the girls, under trays of food or other masked ways. The menus were keys to what each drug was, and each service was a different type of delivery. They were so close , so very close to understanding what was happening but...they also hit a bump. Most of the investigation was focused on the owner of the hotel but they soon found out that they were barking up the wrong tree. The owner of the hotel wasn't who controlled the flux in the drug ring but a patreon, a wealthy real estate manager for a mob. Sighing, Kirishima rubbed his face, glancing at Fatgum who was writing like a madman at the desk in their jointed room “Hey Taishiro..” Kirishima called as the blonde let out a hum,still jotting notes “We have that other lead right? Uh..” He started as he flipped through his own notes, running over a name “Peaches, the cage dancer?” “Yeah what about her?” Fatgum said as he looked to his red haired subordinate “Why don't we see if we can find her? She should be working tonight right? The other dancer said she only comes in on certain days, and she seems tied to Mr.N'' He siad as Fatgum joined him at his side , reading over his notes “Yeah! If we're lucky we’ll find some more about our lovely friend here”

And with that they headed downstairs and to the giant double door, the sound of thumping music seeping through the crack “Well Red, let's head in yeah?” Taishiro said as Kirishima followed behind. He knew undercover work was difficult, and it didn't help that both had to disguise their identities to the best they could : Fatgum and him both using colored hair spray to hide their hair colors. Taishiro opted to stay in his smaller form more often and wore clothes that were more fancy while under the name “Yuri”. Kirishima on the other hand was his makeshift “Bodyguard” , opting for all black looks and tended to hide his mouth with a black mask, going by the simple nickname “J”. The purpose was for Fatgum to look like another high end boss with security , and that's how it was. As the two entered they were greeted with half dressed to bare women with only covers asking them what they needed or wanted , some handing them drinks and allowing them to wander. The lights were bright and strobing , almost too much to the sober person, so the intoxicated had to be worse. Heading to the back they passed through a curtain into the higher end of things. Men with people at their hips, smoking cigars and watching as more dancers did their usuals, money being handed over , thrown and placed on their person. “Alright how about we split up, il take this seat, see if you can find the cage dancers” Fatgum said as he sat to an approaching girl, the women threw herself to his lap as Kirishima sighed watching him start up as he saw a red light behind another side curtain. Catching his attention Kirishima walked forward, into a darker room with a string of red lights illuminating a cage-like stage. Before he could get far a man stopped him

“Excuse me sir do you have a reservation with Peaches?” Bingo. He found her “Uh no sorry i don't , i didn't know i needed one for her '' He said shyly as the man looked up to him before sighing “Well, then sir i can't help you” Sighing Kirishima looked at the stage again when he saw one of the most beautiful sights he could see. A woman, covered in a red and black piece popped into the stage “Whats the issue Moby?” The women said as her eyes widened to the tall male in her usual empty room “Ah nothing miss Peaches, this guy i guess thought he'd get a show” The security said as the girl still looked to him and smiled waving him in “He does now, put him on my list yeah?” She said as the security stuttered , letting the towering man past “Ah miss, is it okay if my friend comes along as well? He went to a different stage but he would be meeting back up with me” He admitted as th e woman strolled to him , pressing a hand to the cage “He can come too, tell Moby to put him on the list sweetheart” She said before walking away, yelling to the security “Put his friend on the too!”

Soon Fatgum came into the room with him, sitting beside him as more paterons surrounded the stage “the other dont know them, it seems our girl is the one were with now” He whispered as they all looked up to the stage , the setting being set for the act who was coming out. If the hush whispers were anything he knew the girl they were waiting for would be something great.

All of a sudden Kiri could feel his heart in his throat, the woman he had spoken to came out , still dress the same as she waved to the whistling people below, goting to her pole with a jump and started spinning effortlessly, the sight was absolutely stunning ; he'd never seen such a beautiful display before. No one told him that stripping was a form of art, no matter how people tried to look down on it, this was art to him. He now knew why she was so sought after, the grace she had as she moved closer to him through the cage made his heart unironically thump and all of a sudden the throb in his chest moved to between his legs , an embarrassment he wish he wouldn't admit outright until a shove on the arm from his senior “Its alright, i think she likes you” Fatgum whispered as Kirishima looked up, seeing in fact that her eyes were glued to him.

Moving to the front she leaned against it, eyes locked on him as she beckoned him closer, the desperate others trying to reach for her as she smirked , reaching to Kirishima “Why dont you cmre big boy” She said as they whooped and hollered , all smacking him in the back as he gave fatgum a wide eyed look, the hidden blonde, giving him a thumbs up. “U-uhm I-” Before he could say much she tapped the cage , pointing to Kirishima as the security took him around to the opening “You're a lucky guy ; its rare she does a lap dance with fresh faces” The guy said, confusing the hidden redhead “How's that?” He ask “Well whoever spends the most on her usually just gets a leg tap or such, a lapdance is the highest thing she'll do with a crowd” He said before giving him a chair and opening her door “Have fun, she might spoil ya” And withthst he was face to face with the beauty. Walking up to Kirishima she gave him a smile, her smaller hand running over his chest before she took the chair from him , sitting it in the red light. “What should i call you cutie” She whispered before he felt the knot in his stomach tighten again “ Uh..how about..Jay..” He whispered back as she pushed him lightly into the chair “Well then Jay, ill give you a nice show hm?” she giggled, before moving into his lap. Kiri felt himself freeze , she smelt very good, and was too close for comfort. She was warm, and the way she looked at him made him feel like a highschooler all over again “C-can i touch you sweetheart?” He whispered as she settled , her eyes wide as she buried her face in his neck “A real gentlemen, I knew it was a good idea to trust you.

Go right ahead cutie, be gentle with me” she answered as she started to rock, rolling her hips with the thumping of her music. Slowly he put his own hand on her waist, following her constant moving as the group below yelled, telling him to do more or for her to strip even more. He felt her get close to his face before their noses touched, the heat in his chest blooming more as she pulled away. Feeling brave he gripped her hips, pulling her closer and with a gasp her arms moved back to his chest , the two in their own world before realizing there were eyes on them both still. Slowly she crawled down his lap, eyes on his as she ran her hand back on his thighs , her face on his lap as they screamed for more before the curtain dropped, covering them and the guys outside of it begged for more. Sitting back on her legs and letting kirishima catch his breath he held a hand to her , helping her up “T-Thank you for the show Miss Peaches , I feel honored“ Kirishima said as she blinked, before feeling her body heat up “O-Oh uhm why thank you for thanking me, i don't get much appreciation, and most would want your place. I….felt drawn to you so” She admitted before giving him a look “OH and you can call me [ ], but try not to around patreons, they'd be upset they don't know yet and i just told some newbie” [ ] teased as he laughed , agreeing “Yeah definitely. I hope to see you uh, more often” He said before he could stop himself, giving her the same shocked look her face had “I guess you're who've been asking for me.

Here, I'll give you my number and you tell me whenever you need something” She said, holding her hand out for his phone. Fumbling he took his phone out, taking her number in his phone as they walked to her dressing room. Shyly [ ] looked up at the tall boy who insisted on walking her back to her room. Standing ther awkwardly he gave her a shy look back “Uh i know this is random but when is your next show? I love how beautiful you look and i'd...wished to be able to..i'm not sure what id want to do being there” Starting to ramble he laughed and rubbed his head before [ ] grabbed his hands “Hey that's fine, i'll come around more often if you're around i feel safe with my new shield” She teased.

And thats how it was for a few weeks, them seeing her every day she danced and her even coming to see them on her off hours. Kirishima explained why they were really there and it made her heart happy to see change. She decided to help them, giving more information to them, helping them along with their case as it started to close. Before long Kirishima and [ ] had gotten closer, the two of them growing to love the others attention , so much so Fat gum called them out for it “Yknow, when this goes down, you should get [ ] to follow us , she's quite smart , and she could do wonderfully as a partner. She would benefit better from a safe environment” Fatgum said one day while they were finishing their report “Ya think? I do care for her, and I can't stand her coming over and crying about the abuse…...but i dunno what if she doesnt like me like that…”

Kirishima whispered as he felt a hand smack him on the shoulder “Ask her. Can't hurt to ask right? And the way you both give eachother puppy eyes even when she's on stage i'm pretty sure she likes you the same way you like her.” He teased as the red head beside him sighed, hearing a knock at their door. Opening it he was face to face with the girl in question, [ ]. Her eyes glowed as she came in, greeting the two males in front of her. “Hey guys! How's everything going?” She said as she sat on the edge of one of the beds in the room , dressed more casually which made them both have a sense of joy “Ah well we should be arresting him tomorrow once he gets here, I know you work tomorrow night so ill have Kiri be with you, he’ll make sure everything runs smoothly , we’ll all go back to the headquarters and regroup okay?” Fatgum finished as [ ] shook her head, agreeing with the plans as she sighed “I'm nervous but it needs to be done... I , well all of us can't take this anymore...constantly being in fear all the time yknow?” she sighed as she laid back, a comfortable silence falling between them as they all laid around the room “Uhm [ ] can I ask you something?”

Kirishima said as she hummed, cracking an eye open to look at him. Knowing what was to come Fatgum gave him a thumbs up before claiming he had a call to go investigate downstairs, leaving the two of them together. “[ ] I cant stand you in pain...I dunno what i can do for you but...please, let me help you out , come with me , with us. I want you to be happy y'know and ive enjoyed every second we’ve had together..maybe im being selfish, or maybe its silly but...I” Trailing off he looked up to [ ] giving him soft puppy like eyes. Reaching out she placed her hand on his , rubbing her thumb on the back of his hand as she took in a breath to start her own comment back “Kiri...Ejirou, I care about you, so so very much, I wouldn't want to be a burden to you, but I'd love to go with you. Question is , is tit the both of you who want me around or a certain red head who cant take his eyes off of me” She teased as the color in his face flushed to his ears , stuttering as [ ] laughed “Its okay Kiri, Fatgum told me too, that we both care so much for eachother and should admit it, its why im here now actually” [ ] said as she meekly met his wide eyes, not fully thinking he understood her “W-wait say that again?” Kirishima croaked, meeting her gaze as she smiled , tracing his hand that sat beside her leg. Before he could stop himself he tackled her to the bed , pushing his lips against hers. With a gasp she kissed him back, wrapping her hands around his neck as they laid there, sealing their promise to eachother with a kiss. Soon, Kirishima pulled away, but not before tugging her bottom lip in his mouth. Gently he placed his hands beside her face, looking into her [ ] colored eyes, his heart fluttering once more as he kissed her forehead “Im sorry [ ] i just couldnt help it… Uhm am I moving too fast? I can definitely wait until youre ready” He spoke out as the girl under him sat up, gripping his cheeks “Kiri, honey ive waited for us to confess and now youve gotten me riled up, take good care of me yeah? Later on we can be more intimate but for now..I need you” She said, seeing he way the red heads eyes darkened at her comment “Then let me tak good care of you my love”

And with that he slide a large hand down between her thighs, rubbing at a wet patch forming against her panties as he pushed passed them, entering her with teo plump fingers “I gotta get you to relax, i wont fit if youre this tight” Whispering in her ear he picked up the pace, kissing right under her pulse as [ ] sucked in a breath, grabbing onto a strong arm “K-kiri I-” Shushing her , Kirishima leaned over to kiss her lips, speeding up his fingers as he felt her drip between them “Cum for me sweetheart, let me open you right up” He begged. Feeling her stomach tense at his choice words [ ] whimpered, her high hitting her as the sound of him pumping her though it echoed throughout the room. Pulling his hand out from her fluttering pussy and short he smirked, licking her orgasm from his fingers. Giving her a lopsided smile he spoke ‘Cant wait to eat you out..but thatll have to wait. I need to be in you” Sittin up from her Kirishima pulled his shirt off and with a toss threw it uncerimosily into a corner, as well as his pants and her clothes. [ ] couldnt help biting her lip as she saw the bulge under his boxers, a spot of precum at the tip as he palmed himself before pulling them off slowly, the red tip smacking his stomach

“ Like what you see?” He teased as he ran the tip between her sopping folds, a gasp as soft ‘Yes’ falling from her lips “Ill be gentle okay? If its too much tell me, alright?” he said as [ ] agreed , opening her legs more as he started to rub around her clit, catching it with his swollen head. In a trance he kep that up, bucking between her lips as it started to make them both sticky and hot. Soon she couldnt take it anymore, grabbing his hand as she pleaded with him “Please Kiri, put it in already, I can take it” Letting her words sink in he smiled before flipping her to her stomach, pressing his tip against her wet hole “Hold on to something then” was his last warning before pushing in, his tip sliding by with ease as the smaller girl under him moaned, arching her back to take more in his first push. Slowly he kep rocking his hips, pushing more and more in before finally bottoming out, a satisfied groan spilling from both parties lips. Leaning down to her neck Kirishima bit down gently before picking up his pace, holding her hips in place as [ ] whined , reaching back for a hand “W-wait please its too much” She whined as he slowed his hips only a bit , feeling her clench over his own thick member “Youre close again...is me pounding you from behind too much” He cooed, biting a new post on her neck as he sped up again, making the girl squeal “I-i dont wanna cum yet! I dont w-want it to end” She spilled out as she felt the knot in her stomach return, warming her lower body as he kept up his pace, sliding a hand to go between her legs as he searched for her nub, tracing it as he drilled in her from behind. Too quickly [ ] felt it snap, the little bit of control over her rapid orgasm faulting as she came overhim, grabbing the hand on her hip as she weakly rocked back “Thatta girl, keep going you got it...fuck im close too, where d-do you wnat me to cum” He asked as his own hips got sloppy but never slowing down, in fact they picked up more pace as he chased his own high “Im on the pill, please fill me up baby, Eijirou i need you to fill me up” [ ] pleaded. Hearing his name unexpectedly was his demise. He felt himself quiver as thick ropes of cum spilled from hsi tip inside of her spasming and warm walls, a low growl falling from his lips as he rocked the last of his oragsm out, small ‘Thank yous’ and ‘I love you’ falling from his lips. With care he wrapped his arms around her torso, holding her to his chest as he pulled them sideways “Well...i didnt expect the night to go like this” [ ] giggled as Kirishima kissed her shoulder before agreeing “I don mind it...but I meant it...i didnt just use you fro sex or anything..”He said again as she hummed, kissing the hand the laid on her chest “I know...i meant it too..” As the comfortable silence filled the room [ ] felt something hot stir her again. Looking down she could see Kirishima getting hard again> Before she could say anything he spoke “Whenever youre ready, I could go for another round sweetheart” Slightly pushing her hips back [ ] knew she was in for a long night

[shineigami]

A writer and a artist

Okay listen I was just listening to my art playlist and i thought maybe albedo would listen to these songs and I just came up with this, it's not proof read and I haven't slept in a day so I beg your pardon if it's very badly written I'll probably correct it later on

(I listened to writer in the dark while writing this so I would suggest it)

Summary: you never knew that you a writer struggling to continue your book will meet a artist who will be your inspiration. How you meet him, how your relationship develops and the day you break up with him, modern au pt1

Warnings: none atm

Meeting him for the first time.

He was sitting underneath a tree sketching out the scenery in front of him while listening to his usual playlist.

Albedo was a reserved kind of person or well he was just unknown to some emotions, while he is bland and says words to your face he has a very nice personality and he will show it if he takes interest in you.

You were supposed to meet someone but it had been two hours, from the looks of it they stood you up.

“well, I have nothing better to do now.. I guess I'll just roam around for a while"

When you were scanning the park with your eyes you saw a lost child 'what's a little child doing here without an adult?' you looked around for the parent of the child until you decided to ask the kid herself.

"hello um are you lost?" you asked the little kid who was trying to catch a poor bird that looked slightly injured, holding the bird out of her reach with her attention on you.

“I'm not lost! My big brother is here with me!" she joyfully spoke, "I don't see anyone looking for you though?" "hm?" she tilted her head and stared at you for a while before running off.

"hey, wait! You can't just go running Kid!!" you ran after the child worried she'll hurt herself.

She stopped running under a tree and you caught up with the 'gremlin' child as you deemed her.

“big brother albedo!” she jumped joyfully while holding the older boy's arm.

“oh, klee” the blonde boy spoke with a soft look in his eyes which seemed to disappear as his eyes fall on you “and who might this be?”

“oh uhm- your sister was chasing a injured bird and she also seemed lost on where she was so, I just wanted to make sure she was safe...” you spoke looking at the little kid who was smiling at you.

“ah, I'm sorry for causing such trouble to you, she's just a very energetic child” he gave you a small smile and paused before speaking again “you can sit here under the shade and rest if you want, you must've been tired from all the running” you bowed and mumbled a thank you before settling down next to the blonde child.

“you draw?” he nodded without glancing, he seemed so focused on sketching whatever he was sketching.

Minutes later the little girl named 'Klee' (you still preferred 'little gremlin' but that works too ) ran off somewhere and albedo reassures you that she'll be fine “you act more like her sibling than I do, makes me feel like a bad brother” he said which made you widen your eyes and laugh “I was just worried for the kid that's all..” it was a comfortable yet awkward silence afterwards.

When it was time for you to take your leave you got up to call for a cab home but albedo was quick to speak before you could “if you don't mind I can't drop you off?”

“oh! No no, it's fine! I don't want to trouble you” you smiled but albedo said that he didn't want you walking alone since its almost night and who knows what will happen.

So, in the end. You took up on his offer Klee was a absolute angel in the car maybe because she was asleep and tired. When it was your stop you got off the car and thanked him for the ride “I have something for you, I hope you don't mind this sketch of the scenery I just feel someone as stunning as you should get a nice gift” you blinked at him in surprise just what does he find stunning about me? “you don't have to give this, we don't even know each other” “albedo, that's my name” he smiled at you “it doesn't matter if we don't know each other this gift can be the start of a friendship”

'this guy looked so reserved and introverted but he's kind of different than I thought' as you accepted his gift he left.

Guess this was how you met someone you thought you won't see again

[tennessoui]

So I love your keeping up with the Skywalker/Kenobis au😍!!! It's adorable and it makes me so happy to read aaaand I wanted to ask what you think Satine's reaction is to Obi Wan basically getting himself a husband two kids and a dog like 2 months after she's left him? Like if they randomly ran into each other and Obi Wan is with his whole family and is carrying Leia, while holding Luke's hand and Luke is holding the dogs leash, while Anakin is I dunno monologing about something as he usually does

hi!!!! thank you so much for the prompt i love it <3 I thought a really long time about this prompt because I kind of knew what I wanted to do but I also didn't want to throw satine's character under the bus to accomplish it because i think from what Obi-Wan's told us about his marriage she's completely justified to want a divorce, so she's not necessarily a jealous ex in this snippet. But she's sort of angry, which i feel is fair!! i also (for reasons we will hopefully see tomorrow) changed your 'two months' to '3 years', so this happens 2 years after the Skywalkers move in, which is one yearish after the divorce! mostly because Something Else happens about 2 years after the Skywalkers move in and I have an ask cooling in my inbox asking about That that i want to answer tomorrow and these two felt like they fit together

(big sigh)(2.5k)(this is Obi-Wan's POV so its a bit pretentious and also a bit sad)

It’s a very strange thing, what the body remembers but the mind forgets.

“Obi-Wan?” A tentative voice asks from his left, and he knows that voice intimately. That voice had been at one time the most beautiful sound in the entire world. That voice had been what he heard before going to sleep, what he waited on tenterhooks to hear upon waking. He’d heard that voice cry, scream, laugh, gasp, moan--he knows that voice, and for a second his body responds the way it always has to that voice.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach and he turns to look at Satine for the first time in almost three years.

“Satine,” he says and clears his throat and tries again. “Hello there.”

She smiles delicately, as if she’s unsure of her welcome. Obi-Wan’s never seen Satine shy, but he supposes he’s never seen how she acts around her ex-husband.

He surreptitiously glances to where Anakin and the twins are standing in line at an ice cream truck. It had been a nice day, so they had bundled the kids and the dog into Anakin’s car and gone to the city park with loose ideas about kite flying. Perhaps a picnic.

Perhaps twenty yards from the parking lot, Leia had spotted an ice cream truck from her perch on Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and the twins had successfully convinced Anakin to make a quick pit stop on their way up the park’s central hill. It had been a very easy sell. The sweet tooth is most definitely inherited, and nothing Obi-Wan really shares, so he had taken Chewie and gone to sit on a near park bench, graciously pretending not to hear Anakin tell his children to let the old man rest.

That had only been five minutes ago.

“Would you like to sit?” Obi-Wan asks politely, gesturing to the part of the bench he’s not taking up.

“If you have the time,” Satine responds just as politely. Obi-Wan wonders if this sort of false veneer of courteousness is putting her teeth on edge as much as his.

Do you remember how you left? Would you like me to recall the amount of things thrown by you, or would you like to do the honors? He imagines saying.

Only if you would be so gracious as to recite the long list of things you called me, he can imagine Satine responding.

That sort of conversation would be better than this. More honest. It’s a strange hurt, to realize you’re lying to the person you used to think you’d always be truthful to.

“Oh,” Satine says when Chewie immediately starts sniffing at the hem of her dress. “Is this...your dog?”

Obi-Wan fights the urge to wince. He had. Well. He had been quite against getting a dog when they’d been married. Or a cat. Or anything, really. He had vehemently protested the idea of a pet.

Of another living thing in their house.

“Ah,” he says. “Yes. His name is Chewie.”

Satine pets him with just the right amount of pressure to have Chewie tilting his head eagerly for more. “Chewie?” she asks incredulously. “I always figured we would have to name any dog or--child after some sort of literary figure.”

Obi-Wan pretends he doesn’t notice her hesitation. He has to pretend he doesn’t notice her hesitation. “I originally wanted to name him Dante,” he admits instead. “Leia compromised down to Danny, but I just couldn’t do that to the poor dead man.”

“Oh,” Satine says and then she’s quiet. Obi-Wan can just imagine the sort of things running through her head. He would deserve all the mean-spirited barbs she could throw at him now. He reminds himself that he understands that.

I hadn’t thought you knew how to do that, he imagines her saying. Compromising, I mean.

Or, does the dog hair everywhere drive you as crazy as you used to say it would?

Or, perhaps worst of all, how much has your library of dead mean kept you comfort these last three years?

Instead she gently strokes the dog’s head and refuses to make eye contact with Obi-Wan.

“You look well,” he says, breaking the silence first. He thinks she’s probably put in enough work in speaking first for a lifetime.

“Thank you,” Satine responds, tucking a piece of her ash blonde hair behind her ear. Obi-Wan catches a glint of a ring on her finger from the action. He doesn’t know if it was purposeful or not, doesn’t blame her either way. It’s been three years. Their lives are their own now. There’s always going to be those years where they...converged, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure he regrets them. He might never regret them, no matter what he thought shortly after the papers were mailed in.

After all, he’d never have met the Skywalkers if it wasn’t for the divorce.

“You as well,” Satine says, crossing her ankles. It’s her version of a fidget, Obi-Wan thinks fondly, and then wonders if he’ll ever forget that sort of information.

He smiles. “Yes, I’m...well.” He coughs and glances over to the ice cream truck. Leia waves at him from where she’s curled into Anakin’s chest, very near the front of the line. Anakin and Luke are looking at Obi-Wan with almost the same expression of pinched worry. Anakin most probably because he knows who Satine is. Luke because the boy has gotten quite possessive of Obi-Wan’s attention in the last few months.

Obi-Wan smiles slightly to let them both know that he’s fine. “I’m very well,” he tells Satine, turning back to her.

“I’m very glad to hear that,” she says, and it sounds like the most honest thing she’s said this entire time.

“Thank you,” he responds, and that’s the most honest thing he’s said today too. He knows she won’t understand exactly what he means, but it feels nice to say it anyway. Thank you for the years we were happy. Thank you for leaving before we could really start hating each other. Thank you for the divorce. Thank you for the Skywalkers.

There’s very loud footsteps on the pavement and then suddenly a blond blur is clinging to Obi-Wan’s knee.

“Obi,” Luke says very reproachfully.

Obi-Wan automatically fixes the boy’s fringe. “Yes, little one?” he asks, very, very aware of the way Satine’s posture has shifted from almost relaxed to preparing for battle.

“Daddy wants to know if you want anything. He says they have those pop--pop--cycles that you like.”

Obi-Wan switches his attention away from Luke so that he can raise a very scathing eyebrow at Anakin, who shrugs as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. He had most certainly told Anakin that he was fine and that he didn’t want to spoil his lunch. Sending Luke over had not been a friendly check-in. It had been an invasion.

“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin’s son. “I don’t want to spoil my lunch.”

These words seem just as foreign to Luke as they did to his father, because he squints up at Obi-Wan before shrugging and clambering up into Obi-Wan’s lap.

“Who is she, Obi?” he asks, not quietly at all.

Obi-Wan sighs. And then resists the urge to sigh harder when he catches sight of Satine’s pinched face.

A thousand conversations rush back to him.

“My career has to come first, Satine.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“A child? At my age?”

“It’s Obi-Wan, not Obi.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, dear. Our lives would change. Fundamentally. We’d have to compromise, we’d have to figure out a way to be there for them whenever they needed it. I know people manage. But would we?”

“Don’t--”

“I’m sorry, darling. I don’t want children.”

“Don’t call me Obi.”

He understands perfectly why Satine looks as if someone has just fed her half a lemon. He does.

She’s run into her ex-husband at the park and settled in to have a civil conversation with the man, only to see that he owns a dog (which he had been against when they were together), has a child (Luke isn’t his, of course, but he can understand the confusion), and lets that child call him one of his most hated nicknames.

“Obi?” she asks, which is probably starting out small, something he is very grateful for.

“Who are you?” Luke asks more forcefully, gripping onto Obi-Wan’s shirt with his little hands. Of all the times for the boy to decide to speak up to strangers--

“I’m Satine,” Satine answers graciously. And then, “Who are you?”

“Luke,” the boy says, far less graciously. “Obi lives with us.”

“Us?” Satine asks, mostly to Obi-Wan. “You mentioned a...Leia earlier?”

“My sister,” Luke interrupts before Obi-Wan can, perhaps, explain the situation. “We’re twins.”

“Twins!” Satine gasps in a way that’s most definitely pointed and directed at Obi-Wan. “Obi, I hadn’t known you had twins!”

“I…” Obi-Wan starts to say that he doesn’t, but the twins have started shooting him very hurt looks every time he corrects strangers on the fact that the twins aren’t actually his. He’s mostly stopped correcting people now because Luke and Leia’s betrayed expressions are really, quite frankly, works of art.

“Obi-Wan!” a voice interrupts him to his right. It’s a familiar voice, one that he’s heard as he falls asleep, one he’s heard first thing in the morning, one he’s heard cry and yell and gasp and laugh, one he thinks to himself might just be one of the most beautiful sounds in the entire world.

Without his permission or even his consent, butterflies erupt in his stomach and he turns from Satine’s rigid expression to Anakin’s slightly manic grin.

“Anakin,” he says, standing immediately with Luke cradled in his arms.

“We got you the red popsicle because Luke never came back,” Anakin says, thrusting the icy treat forward as Leia tries to clamber on the bench to hand Luke his own chocolate-covered cone.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says, all thoughts about his appetite for lunch pushed out of his mind by the size of Anakin’s smile. “That’s very sweet of you.”

Anakin ducks his head and rubs at the back of his neck, his face turning red like Obi-Wan’s popsicle. Obi-Wan thinks he’s never been this hopelessly endeared in his entire life.

“I should be going,” Satine says suddenly, standing up. Obi-Wan is a bit ashamed to realize he has forgotten her in the wake of the arrival of the Skywalkers.

But he knows he should not leave like this. They deserve more than this stilted sort of interrupted conversation.

Gently, he sets Luke on the ground despite the boy’s protests and chases after his ex-wife.

“Satine, wait,” he pants as he catches up with her.

“What, Obi-Wan?” she asks, voice strained and eyes a bit wet. “What else do you want me to see? What else is there left? I get it, alright. I get it. It was never you--it wasn’t--it wasn’t that you didn’t want pets or kids or--or all of it. You just didn’t want them with me. It was me. All along.”

She turns away, wiping frantically at her eyes. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he’s ever felt worse.

“No,” he insists, reaching out to touch her forearm, painfully aware of how public they are right now. “No, you’ve got it wrong. It’s not...it was never you. It’s just…”

He pauses and tries to find the words to describe the past three years of his life. That first year of despair and hopelessness and isolation. And then the way Anakin and his children had crept into his life like a summer sunrise in the dead of winter, unexpectedly and then slowly and then all at once.

Obi-Wan shrugs helplessly, at a loss for words. There’s no way to describe something like that to someone who hasn’t experienced it. “It’s just…them.”

Satine takes a few moments to breathe before she turns to face him. She’s smiling and it looks mostly like a grimace, but he’ll accept it as more than he deserves.

“Oh Obi-Wan,” she says, laying a hand over the hand he has on his arm. “You always had so many rules.”

Obi-Wan fights the urge to bristle, reminding himself that Satine has the right to say anything she wants to him today and the amount of hurts they’ve dealt each other still probably wouldn’t be even.

It takes him completely by surprise then when she hugs him. He hugs her back automatically, blinking stupidly further into the park.

“I’m glad you’ve found your exceptions,” she whispers to him as she pulls back with a sad smile.

“Satine,” he says, but he doesn’t know where he’s going with that and falls silent. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to his bearded cheek.

“Glad to know I can still make you speechless,” she tells him wryly.

“Always,” he promises her, and she laughs. Obi-Wan is suddenly struck with a sort of gut-wrenching realization that she used to be his best friend as well as his wife. He had lost both in one fell swoop.

“I think I just put you in a world of trouble,” she smirks, tilting her head back down the path. “Your partner doesn’t look very happy.”

“He’s not my--” Obi-Wan starts to say and then decides fuck it. He shrugs. “It was nice to see you again, Satine. I hope. I. I really am glad that you’re doing well.”

Satine smiles and squeezes his hand once before letting go. “You too, Obi-Wan. You too.”

When he gets back to his family, Anakin is staring intensely down at his shoes, while Luke and Leia are glaring just as intensely up at Obi-Wan.

“Who was that?” Leia demands immediately.

“Satine,” Luke relays to her, as if the word means one hundred terrible and tragic things.

“An old friend,” Obi-Wan corrects. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I just...I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Did you?” Anakin asks, strangely intent as he looks down at Obi-Wan’s face.

“I did,” Obi-Wan tells him. It sounds like a promise. Yes, seeing Satine had been a peculiar twist of fate, but it had felt like a goodbye. To her. To the last vestiges of their marriage. To the man he had been when he had been in love with her.

The realization feels like it should hurt, but it doesn’t. Instead of ruminating on it though, he holds his hand out to Luke’s sticky fingers. “Shall we?” he asks, as Anakin falls into place on his other side, Leia held firmly in his arms. “It’s a fairly large hill, are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes!” Luke insists enthusiastically, all thoughts of the blonde woman his Obi had been talking to immediately forgotten.

“Perhaps by the time we get to the top, we’ll be prepared for lunch,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin wryly. The other man laughs, but his eyebrows stay pinched. Obi-Wan has the strangest desire to kiss them smooth, to lean over and kiss Anakin’s face until he’s blushing and laughing and light as he knows he can be.

But it’s very obviously not the time and place. Such a step forward needs both a proper time and place. After all, you may have multiple loves of your lives, but you only ever kiss each of them for the first time once. And Obi-Wan is pretty sure he’s only got the two; he’s not looking to mess this one up.

[enjennie]

The 7Dream café was strange.

It wasn't because of the seven dashing young men that run it, nor was it how the café gave you the weirdest of vibes that kept you coming back but it's that the café seemed to have came out of nowhere.

You lived in a small town, if a new building, more importantly a café, was coming into construction surely it would be the talk of the town. Alas, no noise until its grand opening. Maybe you weren't as updated with the latest news nowadays...

After your best friend practically dragged you to the conjunction, you found yourself at its entrance. Catching a whiff of the freshly baked goodies, freshly brewed coffee and catching sight of the boys that worked the establishment.

Of course, the boys were a major part of the reason why your friend was so persistent in coming.

"I heard that the baristas are such eye candies," she gushes. "But honestly, I've already got my eye on the delivery guy,"

"Jesus, even the delivery guy can't escape you," you chuckled lightly at your friend.

You had found seats near the kitchen area where you could see the bakers at work by the window, piping icing on cakes and taking out new batches of cookies from the oven. A dirty blonde boy looked up from his workspace, catching you looking and giving you a wink.

The sudden gesture took you by surprise, and you widen your eyes. He laughs, averting his eyes back down to the cake he was decorating.

"A-are we ready to order?" You tear your eyes away from the young man and turn to your friend, who held a menu in her hand.

The two of you walk over to the counter. Luckily, it wasn't too packed as you'd chosen a time when the highschool girls would be in school and wouldn't hog the café seats gawking at these boys. Your university was only a few blocks away. How convenient.

At the counter, you're greeted by a boy with a smile that could cure cancer. He leaned against the counter, black hair falling over his forehead looking effortlessly stunning. "Hi, love. Welcome to 7dream Café, what can I get for you?"

"I'll have a Namericano, two shots," you raise two fingers at him, not being able to get over how a man this beautiful can exist. Jaemin, his name tag read. He types the order into the cash register and your total is summed at the screen in front of you.

"Good choice. Cramming tonight?" Jaemin chuckled. You shot him a smile before shaking your head. "Just like my coffee strong,"

"Jeno, a namericano please. Two shots, for the gorgeous lady," Jaemin calls over to the other boy behind him.

The Jeno in question turns his head, looking over at you and flashing you his pearly whites as he laughed, eyes forming crescents as he does so. "Are you sure they don't want a Jenofrappe?" He laughs. "Kidding. Your name?" he grabs a cup and a pen ready to write your name on it.

"Y/N," you replied, a little stunned by his visuals. A defined face with the softest eyes.

"Coming up, Y/N,"

You've heard your name uttered millions of times, but the way Jeno said it was probably your favourite.

You pay up and leave your friend to manage her orders. On your way back to the seats, you come in collision with a man in a suit. He had golden blonde hair and striking eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" The boy apologized profusely. You're quick to wave away his apologies and offer your own. He had a name tag, which means he worked here. God, you were meeting just about everyone on here and you only came for an americano coffee.

"Chenle, you clutz," a boy who had watched things unfold was laughing in a booth just next to you. He was on his laptop, the Photoshop tab open. The café's logo flashed on it. Did all these boys work here?

"It's completely fine," you say. "I wasn't looking at where I was headed,"

"Looking elsewhere, were we?" The boy from the kitchen was now coming towards you, a cookie in hand. He had a round face and full cheeks. Everything about the boy was round from his eyes to his full lips. Of course, another gorgeous man who worked here.

"Chenle, Mark and I made a new batch but we tweaked around with the recipe a little," he extends his arm out to you. "Would you like to try it?"

You thought about how denying would possibly make the situation more awkward than it already was. You take it from his hands and the boy beams. A sun was drawn on it and it looked like an ordinary cookie. You took a bite, it's chewy and sweet. Scrumptious. The three boys were now looking at you, awaiting your judgment.

You raise a thumbs up, "Great!"

The baker balls his fist in success and Chenle laughs, finding his co-worker amusing. "Haechan one, Mark zero,"

When you finally get back to your booth, your friend had just sat back down. The orders would be brought by someone shortly.

"What do you think so far?" You ask, leaning over the counter and resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

"Overhyped," your friend frankly discloses, causing you to burst into fits of giggles. "But the boys are definitely something else," she adds. You agree. They were all a character. The café looked minimalistic, with little decorations and art pieces hung on the walls, but the ambiance they provided made up for it.

A few minutes go by and you hear the ding of a bell before you see another boy walking towards your table. Tall and handsome. A little timid, at first glance. He carried the tray of drinks over as if his life depended on it. He did it in such an adorable manner that you didn't care if it took him a little too long to reach your booth.

"Two shots n-namericano and a Hamjji Choco latté" he read from the receipt stuck underneath the drinks. "Ah, and complementary cake from Chenle and Mark," he places two plates of cake slices on the table. It's chocolate cake with orange icing. Like the one the boy was working on behind the glass earlier. You look over at him only to instantly regret it as you catch him looking right back at you.

You and your friends thank the boy and he scurries away, a shy smile on his face.

"Cute," your best friend giggles, taking a sip of her latté. She seldom drank coffee, while you on the other hand, lived off of it.

When you bring the cup up to your lips, you watch as your friend's eyes widen. The coffee had already touched tongue and was going down your throat. Nice and warm. You worriedly halt your actions, freezing up and look back at her equally as panicked. She breaks into a grin.

"Dude, check your cup," she claps her hand over her mouth and you turn the cup around to see.

A series of number was written along with the letters JN and a little smile. Your eyes drift over to the barista who served your drink and your eyes meet. The blonde boy is preparing another drink, but his eyes were on yours. There's a smug smile on his face as he turns around to serve the customer.

"Jeez, Y/N. These boys are really something," your friend continues sipping on her latté.

The cakes were like no other. Moist and fudgy, still a little bit warm and dripped with just enough chocolate on the sides. Your mouth watered thinking about it even as you put your fork down after clearing your plate.

"How's everything? We just opened so we really appreciate any reviews," Chenle came to check on you after you started eating. You thanked him for the cake and extended your compliment to the baker, saying everything was great.

It's only then you realized the word printed on his name tag. Chenle, Manager. You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion once the boy left. Wasn't he way too young to own this? Ah, well. This whole café didn't make sense to begin with. Just a bunch of cute boys who ran a café that came out of nowhere.

You and your friend decide to leave after a while and you carry the cup with you, thinking about what to do about the number on it.

"Thanks for coming to 7Dream Café! Hope to see you again," Jaemin chirped, waving his hand.

Outside, a small flier was posted on the post. You were almost certain it wasn't there when you first entered.

7Dream Café is hiring!

You tear the paper from where it's stuck and pocketed it into your bag. Something tells you that you were gonna be around more often than you thought.

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

09.

new beginnings are always the hardest part

Despite everything you said – being happy to see your two childhood friends finally acknowledging each other, coming to better terms with their relationship, you didn’t talk to the two for a week though, slightly pissed that they let their damn egos get the best of them.

Really, boys were stupid. So stupid. How stupid? Fucking stupid!

Yet, at the same time, you merely used it as an excuse to really re-evaluate your stance on things.

Honestly, it was nice to have them work through their feelings and finally see each other on equal footing, despite the fact that they had to use their goddamn fists and talk civilly- nope. Childhood friends with serious issues that were slathered by insecurities and bullying could only be mended by fists and screaming. Still, despite having the two finally coming to terms with each other, they still felt so far and out of reach. You had to wonder, where were you in all of that?

Exhaling through your nose, you rested your head against the mop handle, running your forehead through the wood to ground you. “Stupid,” you say to no one in particular. Well, maybe it was more to yourself.

Tiredly making your way through your home, sluggishly pulling the door open, you announced your presence, voice slurring. “I’m home.”

All you wanted to do was bury yourself in bed, take a short nap, or drown in bath- 

Something was off.

Immediately, your senses were on high.

First, you caught a familiar scent – two of them, actually. One smelled like sweat and body wash, the other was of burnt sugar. Then, there were the familiar gentle beats. Rushing towards your living room, you all but slammed the door wide open, yellow eyes opening just as wide.

Green and carmine eyes widened at your presence. Staring. You blink. They blinked. You blink again. Izuku raised a tentative hand, smiling weakly. Bakugou just stared with his hands in his pockets.

…

…

…

“OLD MAN! What are they doing here!?”

At your outburst, your grandfather comes running towards you whacking you in the head, hard.

The boys winced at that.

Your grandfather eyes you sternly. “Don’t be rude to our guests, foolish girl!”

The two guests just eye you – one worried, with his hands out, the other in awed concern, feeling the pain from the whack.

"You didn't answer my question," you growled, the back of your head still hurting. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING HERE!?"

"Simple: they came to visit."

"AND YOU JUST LET THEM!?"

"They were standing outside the house, it's rude to just leave them there."

"THEN YOU SHOULD'VE! THEY'RE NOT FUCKING STRAYS!"

"They're our guests, foolish girl."

"You should've left them out, then asked for my opinion!"

Beside you, the two boys shifted their eyes going back and forth at your heated exchange with your grandfather.

"Why should I? It's my house."

"Don't I get a say?"

"Do you want me to hit you again?" he raised a hand threateningly, causing you (and the two boys) to wince and take a step back, the back of your head still throbbing. "Ha, thought so." You gave him a sneer, he smirked smugly.

“I’m going to cook now, keep them company!” turning his back, he casually waves off at you three, walking to the kitchen. “Have them greet your parents.”

Sighing, taking a few calming breaths, you glared at the two boys, gesturing then with your head. Without a word, they were on their feet and followed after you.

It’s been a while since Bakugou’s ever been to your house. Izuku comes over a lot, has been over the years. He can't help but feel jealous of how close the two of you are, he felt so left out.

There was an altar by the corner of the living room, where he found you kneeling in front of, lips pressed tightly staring hard at the wooden cabinet long and hard. Eventually, you took hold of the doors and opened, expression softening as you saw the smiling photos of your deceased parents.

“Hi Ma, Pa, looked who came over to visit.”

Quickly getting to his knees behind you, Izuku gestured for Bakugou to do the same, hands pressed together in front of his chest. “Auntie, Uncle, it’s been a while!”

“A-Ah, yeah…” Bakugou says, awkwardly, you had to roll your eyes at that.

“These idiots finally got their act together,” you reported, almost smugly. “still, doesn’t change the fact that they’re the worst knuckleheads in this day and age.”

Some would think that it was a little odd to have your guests come and greet the dead, but this was quite the tradition in your home. Most of your family’s close friends were used to it, Izuku included.

Knowing this, Bakugou felt left out than ever.

For he remembered the day after that day, how his parents spoke in hushed tones when he came home after nearly dying by the hands of a sludge villain and saved by Deku – of all people, the solemn look in their faces after a quick inquiry on the bruise on his jaw, tears alarmingly threatening to spill from his mother’s eyes, his father’s careful expression – “(Name)-chan’s parents, they’re dead.”

It was all too surreal.

You missed out on school for a whole week, grieving. Classmates were murmuring amongst themselves at your absence, having heard of your little altercation and the death of your parents on the same day. Also, students fawned over him for the Sludge Incident, for managing to hold back the villain (when in actuality he was barely breathing had Deku not jumped in) which was honestly the last thing on his mind.

Deku, who was surprisingly left alone, would stare at your chair worriedly, thumbs quick to send a quick text in between classes. He had wanted to ask him about you but held himself back. Pride and guilt held him back. Also, it felt like it wasn’t his place anymore, neither was it his right.

During the funeral, he finally saw you dressed in an all-black kimono his heart clenching at the bags under your eyes, the redness surrounding it, your puffy tear-stained cheeks, the dullness in those once bright (e/c) eyes.

When they arrived, immediately both his parents gave you a big hug, you barely hugged them back, much to their concern. Auntie Inko gave you a hug, as well, when she and Deku arrived. As for him? He kept himself back, hidden, knowing how his presence would only make things worse. And yet, he still came because he was worried about you, so, so, so fucking worried.

You were barely there, receptive or alive. Bakugou hated it, it wasn’t you – you were never much of a crier, always wearing your heart on your sleeve and brimming with life. Now though, it looked as though you were half-alive. He couldn’t blame you really, he can’t imagine losing his parents, of having a part of you die.

While your grandfather attended to guests, receiving condolence money and sympathies, he ensured a distance was kept, knowing you needed time to mourn. Judging from the redness in your eyes, the blankness in your gaze, it would probably take a while.

Looking at you now, seeing the color back in your face, your eyes, the lively (if not, careful hostile) aura emanating off you sets him at ease. Well, almost.

He tried not to linger on the fact that he had a part in utterly destroying a part of you the same way he did Deku, but it bled through as the months went by. All he could do was stare at your parent’s faces, silently offering his heartfelt apologies for all those years he wasted.

"GRANDDAUGHTER! WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, BRING THEM TO THE DOJO!" A yell came from the kitchen, disrupting the peace.

His eyes fell to your form, shoulders slacking. He may not see your face, but he could tell there was a sour expression written all over your face.

Then you sighed, twisting in place to look at the two.

"How about it, boys? Wanna let off some steam?"

The dojo was adjoined to your house - a small traditional dojo that's about ages old, you're not sure but you know but it's been there forever - or so you're told.

A wide space greeted you, polished wooden floors and tatami mats on the ground, calligraphy of 'fortitude', and your family name done by your grandmother hung from the walls along with some ornaments and nondescript paintings that were as old as you (maybe) – everything was in place.

With your grandfather as the head of the family, duly seeing that he lived the family legacy and upheld tradition, he saw fit that the dojo was well-taken care for, that his students weren’t weaklings – family or not, and that the Yoruichi family lived up to its potential and filled with honor (this part, he drilled hard on you when you were younger). In addition, he was the current coach of your school's martial arts club and you were his star pupil, which spelled big favouritism, but nobody complained after sweeping the floor with them on the first day.

Growing up, this place was your safe haven, you could always find peace here, it also held so many good memories that smelled pleasantly of bamboo, faintly of wood, and the faint sounds of a wind chime resounding.

Unable to help yourself, you threw yourself to the ground sideways – an act catching the boys by surprise, Izuku to shrieked, and Bakugou to start - hands planted firmly on the ground, cartwheeling away before doing it again except doing it forward, then sideways, and then your body twisted in mid-air, before landing gracefully on your feet arms raised on both sides.

"(Nickname)!" Izuku called after you, causing you to giggle, especially because your hair was a complete mess now.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." Patting your hands to the sides, the feel of your skirt made you realize why both boys seemed red in the face. Thankfully, you wore shorts underneath.

With Shinsou busy and final exams in the way, your sparring sessions had been put to a hold. You missed sparring, training – even if it were against Aizawa-san or your grandfather, you loved the thrill of fighting. It was in your blood, after all.

“Really, you shouldn’t be so reckless!” berates your green-haired friend, marching towards you, the blond following close behind.

Looking around, the blond teen took in his surroundings - the aged wooden beams overhead, the cubbies, your grandmother's calligraphy set neatly set in one of the fine cabinets, until his eyes stopped on some pictures. It was the three of you, during your younger days when your grandfather wanted to train all three of you.

Unaware of the way his eyes softened at the picture, he continually looked over and relived the memories – he could almost hear Deku’s crying as he tried to punch hard, him hollering in mad glee, and then you lording over the two because the dojo was ‘your turf’. Carmine eyes traced the smile on your 8-year old face, pulling away to find that you were wearing the same smile. Except, unlike the photo – where the smile was directed at him, Deku was crying in it – your smile was directed towards your green-haired friend who marvelled at the trophies you and some fellow students of the dojo won.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, but it was always there. He hated it.

As a child, since discovering his quirk, he’d been showered by praise and was the center of everyone’s attention. But for him, the only praise and attention he wanted was from you. However, because he was a shitty kid with an overgrown pride, you barely batted his way and spared him even an ounce of acknowledgment. Honestly, he’s been starved for your attention for so long now.

Only when you had shoved his kindness away in middle school did he realize how badly he’d hurt you, how little of an effort he did to truly reach out to you. He had a handful of ‘friends’, but not really, and you had Izuku – a friendship built on trust and love, he wanted that. But he was too selfish and prideful to do shit about it.

Before he knew it, Bakugou acted on his feelings.

“(Name),” you looked up, (e/c) eyes blinking in question. “let’s spar.”

“Ka-Kacchan-?”

“Sure.” You said with a shrug.

Green eyes blinked at you, then at the blond-haired teen, darting back and forth at the two of you. Were you really doing this now?

“W-Wait a minute! Are we really doing this now?” Izuku tried to reason, seeing at the two of you began to circle each other, him in the middle. “We should just talk, recall the good times! L-Like…Like…um…” the tension between you two, it was unpalpable, raw, and intense. “(N-Nickname)! Remember the first time you showed us a kick split and Kacchan tried to mimic?”

As funny as that memory was, his two friends were too busy circling each other, resembling animals in the wild. Their expressions were blank, but their eyes spoke too much.

(E/c) met carmine. Both unwavering, unyielding, and both hungry.

“(Nickname)? Kacchan? Are you listening to me?”

Readying into a stance, you closed your eyes as you took a deep inhale, opening them when exhaling slowly out your mouth. Bakugou’s fingers were tingling, smoke emitting.

“(Nickname), Kacchan, please there’s no need to-!”

Without a moment of hesitation, Bakugou was lunging forward, the explosion – which was half-powered, Izuku noticed – leaving a cloud of smoke behind that momentarily filled the area.

You didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the smoke, one arm quickly raised to guard against his fist, and the other readily grabbing hold of his knee that followed soon after. With all your might, you pushed him off. (In a fit of panic, Izuku cleared the smoke clouds away with a fling of his fingers at 2% power.)

Bakugou threw his fists, to which you easily deflected or swatted aside, keeping the blows away from you. Tossing his hand away, you planted your hands on the ground and swung your legs to hit him low, Bakugou quickly moved out of the way, rather clumsily. For a moment, he swore he saw you smirk, swinging your legs around with ease to swing at him again.

He had realized then that he had no idea how you fought; he was going into this blind. You both (three, counting Deku) may have trained together under the same dojo when you were younger, but that had been years ago! Plus, being a Yoruichi meant that you were proficient in other forms of martial arts. But again, emotions got the best of him. For some reason, despite being caught at a disadvantage, he found himself gleaming.

You were fast – much faster than he had anticipated, and extremely agile. He took note of the fact that your eyes were its usual (e/c) color, despite the fact that it was dark out. All the punches and hits received were all raw strength, honed from years of training under your grandfather. He always knew you were a capable fighter, despite having not used your quirk just yet. Fuck, were you mocking him?!

Seeing the frustration in his eyes, you smirked, grabbing hold of his incoming fist, catching him off guard, to toss him aside. So answer: yes, you were mocking him.

He had no idea how much you had studied his fighting style over the years, becoming familiar with his straightforward tactic – it was so predictable. And after seeing the Sports Festival and the fight with Izuku from yesterday, you easily caught up on how adaptable he was given the situation and had quick reflexes. It made you sick.

Yet at the same time, despite knowing this, both of you seemed rather in tune fighting each other.

Izuku, who had long given up trying to be the peacekeeper, could only watch in awe at the two. The mood between you two was…something, to say the least. And watching you two fight? It felt as though it were a dialogue if that even made sense – a mad disarray of Kacchan lashing out on you, you easily avoiding all his punches and explosion, you were able to catch Kacchan off-guard a lot whenever you changed fighting styles to which he’d manage to counter in his own reckless way. It was a nail biter to watch, yet it was fascinating at the same time. The two of you were in perfect synchronization with each other.

A cloud of smoke filled the air, your eyes narrowed to see through just as a palm cut through, nearly punching your cheek clean. Ducking a swipe of Bakugou's smoking fists, you took hold of his wrists and twisted them inward, Bakugou barely had time to react and the explosions went off his skin.

Angered, he used your closeness in an attempt to headbutt you, but you easily evaded, losing balance in the process. Seeing this, he grabbed hold of your hand, tugging hard to twirl against him, back to his chest. Instantly, he caught hold of your other hand. The position looked as though you were dancing, it was rather intimate.

"What's the matter? Not gonna use your quirk on me?" he taunted in your ear, making you shiver.

"As a matter of fact," throwing your head forward and back, smacking your hair to his face, he releases you - just barely - but it was enough to free you, sweeping him off his feet to pin him to the ground – an elbow to his back and one arm stretched out painfully behind him. "I don't need my quirk to beat you. I'm plenty strong on my own." Releasing your hold, you tilt your head to the side, unable to help the smug look on your face, faint lines of yellow lining your eyes. "Not bad for one 'seemingly quirkless', huh?"

Quirkless. Something in him roiled, especially with the way you said it.

Pushing himself off, making you lose balance, he grabbed hold of your collar and nearly slammed you to the ground, switching positions. “What the fuck is your problem?”

(E/c) eyes gave him a cold hard stare, the corner of your lip slightly twitching. It made his tenuous temper flare.

Tightening his hold, he asked again. “What is your fucking problem?!”

“My fucking problem is you!”

Okay, that threw him off.

Bakugou pulls back, blinking at your response, completely dumbfounded “I thought you were ‘working on being a better friend’? Was that all for show?” His voice was soft, hoarse. It hurt that after all this time, he was still a stranger to you. Yet at the same time, he's rather confused with how lightly you've been handling this.

Unable to look at him any longer, you look away. Those carmine eyes were full of hurt; you didn't like it.

"Let go of me," you tell him, his hand had slackened, allowing you to push him off. And he lets you, feeling defeated as he watches you pick yourself up.

His eyes turn to Deku for help, assurance, assistance, never would he have thought that he'd come to Deku - of all people - for such. Deku just stared, weakly at you, then at him – at a loss.

Before you could walk away, Bakugou grabbed your arm, his grip hard. "No, you're not walking away that easy, (Name)."

Your name sounds so foreign when he says it, you gulp, refusing to look his way. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

He glowers, tugging you back to face him, staring you down. "What I want is for you to stop being so fucking difficult and talk to me!"

You couldn't help scoffing, harshly tugging your arm free. "You? Talk? Wow."

Bakugou had always known you were a petty person, but to be this difficult at the same time? It was really grating his nerves.

"(Nickname)..." Izuku berates in the background, which was silenced by Bakugou.

"CAN YOU FOR ONCE JUST LISTEN TO ME!?"

"K-Kacchan..."

"WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS THEN?"

“I’M FUCKING TRYING TO BE CIVIL, BUT YOU’RE BEING SO FUCKING DIFFICULT!”

“YOU? CIVIL? IF THAT ISN’T THE JOKE OF THE CENTURY!”

(Somewhere in the kitchen, Shihan casually cooks dinner, knowingly oblivious to the explosion, yelling, screaming, going on in his beloved dojo. Casually checks the spice intake on one of his dishes, adding a bit more.)

Bakugou opens his mouth, about to berate on one of your bullshit of an excuse to give him the time to speak only to stop. He realized how much you’d instigate and rile him up, and how much he’d fall for it. This was never-ending, the ceaseless anger between you two, it had to stop. “Why won’t you give me the chance, (Name)?” his voice was brittle, so brittle and soft, from yelling and of hurt.

Vulnerability was something you never expected of him, but you were too proud to even recognize it from him of all people. “Your life is fucking perfect, why the hell do you want to make a mess outta mine!?”

“Perfec- “he nearly spat out the word, hating it. “you think my life is perfect?”

Rolling your eyes, hard, Bakugou swore it was enough to see the insides of your head. “Come on, do I need to list it down? You and your perfect family, your perfect little cozy home, your perfect academic performance, your perfect quirk,” that part just had to be overly emphasized, dramatized, much to his disgust “life just hands you everything perfectly in a neat little bow-“

“My life is anything but perfect! I'm anything but fucking perfect! My life’s not fucking perfect because I don’t have you in it, (Name)!” he angrily yells.

That made you stop. Izuku, too.

And after a few seconds of saying it, as did Bakugou. "Fuck," he muttered, ducking his head, to hide his reddening face, he was reeling at his confession – pent up after being so long overdue.

“…what…?”

Izuku’s hands slapped over his mouth, a small noise coming threatening to come out as he watched the two of you in keen interest. “…K-Kacchan…(N-Nickname)…”

(Now would probably be the worst time to gush, squeal, or scream over this, as though he were watching a rom-com movie, but he couldn’t help it! Izuku had always been the biggest supporter of you two, wanting you both to end up together since you were children.)

After all this time, he liked you, too?

When he looked up, he was surprised to see how red you were – you were, like him, blushing hard. Like that one time you visited to give your ochugen gifts.

Wait.

“Wait.”

“I’m outta here!”

The door slammed shut behind you.

Dinner was an awkward occasion, an extremely awkward one especially because your grandfather had Bakugou sit right next to you. 

Your grandfather, painfully knowing that he is, acted oblivious to the tension and casually chatted up the boys - Izuku mostly doing the talking, whilst Bakugou mumbled here and there, you kept your head low avoiding the gaze of anyone in the table.

Just after dinner, you made a beeline for your room, uncaring for your grandfather's wrath - you could deal with that later, you just wanted a moment to yourself after Bakugou's confession.

“My life is anything but perfect! I'm anything but fucking perfect! My life’s not fucking perfect because I don’t have you in it, (Name)!”

Fuck.

His words rang in your ear, all the blood rushing the instant his voice rang in your head.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," you wailed into your pillow.

With special permission from Aizawa-san, and Izuku's insistency, you found yourself at the prestigious UA once again in time for its culture festival.

To say the place was huge would be an understatement, and that’s saying because you’ve been here a lot whenever Izuku was injured, more than just three USJs, it felt like its own continent! This time though, it was colorful and vibrant than usual.

The school went all out, I see. You thought to yourself, after all the bad shit that happened to them.

You still held Izuku with careful regard, it was always easy to forgive him, but appreciated the gesture that he extended his invitation to you. He wanted you to be there, to experience the joy of a high school culture festival even if you two weren’t school mates anymore. (Also, it was his way of saying sorry.) All things considered; things immediately went back to normal between you two.

(Save for one)

Meeting up with your best friend at the front gate, you were surprised to find him covered in dirt and grass. But before you could even ask, he hurriedly brought you backstage to meet up with his classmates before the show started.

“Everyone this is my childhood friend, Yoruichi (Name)!”

Giggling at his stutter, you shouldered him playfully before bowing at his classmates. “Hi everyone! It’s nice to meet the lot of you!”

A series of ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ came afterwards, soon after, the two of you were bombarded with questions. Tiredly, you turn to your best friend, sharing a look. Man, I miss the days when we were invincible.

“Ah, it was that girl who yelled at him at the hospital!” a tall plain-looking guy pointed at you, to which Iida yelled that it was rude to point. You could only offer an apologetic smile, nudging at your best friend’s shoulder again.

“Eh? I didn’t know Midoriya had another childhood friend!” some guy with flaming red hair and shark teeth said, kindly and in shock.

“More than that, Midoriya’s been keeping this beauty from us!” a small purple-haired boy screeched, angrily turning to your best friend. On instinct, you stepped in front of your friend protectively.

“Wow, I’m offended you don’t talk much about me, Izuku.” You teased, elbowing the green-haired teen. He laughed, scratching his cheek.

“This is so radical, a female childhood friend. Must be nice~” a boy, with a streak of black over his hair that could only remind you of Pikachu, gushed. “But wait, haven’t I seen you at that one café- “

“Dunce face, shut your mouth.” Bakugou suddenly appeared in your line of sight, you immediately turned away before he met your gaze, fighting the blush creeping its way to your cheeks.

“Ne, ne, ne,” a pink-skinned and pink-haired girl gushed, nearly shoving her face into yours. “So, like, is Midoriya your boyfriend?”

In unison, you two stared at each other before bursting into laughter, used to the question for so many years.

“No way,” Izuku says, trying to calm down. “(Nickname)’s like a sister to me!”

“I second that! Izuku’s such a whiny big brother with a big brain.”

“(Nickname), you didn’t have to put it like that…”

Grinning toothily, you playfully ruffled his curly locks, discreetly eyeing a brunette who seemed to sigh in relief.

“Wait a minute, since Yoruichi’s your childhood friend, does that mean that Bakugou’s your childhood friend, too?” a short-haired punk-looking girl asked, a few heads turning to the blond. Said blond stilled, expression a careful blank.

“Yeah, he is.” The reply came easy, nonchalantly. Playfully. “Is. Was. Somewhere in between.” You wiggled your hand in the air for emphasis.

It was a cold response, almost as cold as Todoroki’s ice.

“But that’s enough about me, I heard you guys were putting on a live performance?” the mood easily shifted, two kinds of excitement stirring from the class. “And Izuku, you’re dancing? Since when!?”

“Sadly, we kicked him out.” The pink-haired girl says, arms crossed.

“Deku-kun worked his best!” Ochako defended, cheeks puffing.

“That’s right! That’s right!”

“Ah, Midoriya-chan looks mad?”

“More than that, he’s blushing too.”

Several eyes turned to the green-haired teen, cheeks puffed and an angry flush dusting his cheeks, glaring your way.

“I-I mean, dancing sounds fun. Plus, I’ll have you know that we’ve danced together before, (Nickname)!”

(e/c) eyes narrowed playfully, finger poking at freckled cheeks. “Dance Revolution, Just Dance, and Dance Master don’t count, dumdum. Plus, you suck at those!”

“She’s so brutal!”

“Almost like a female Bakugou.”

“Uwa, it’s kinda rare to see Midoriya like this. He seems more comfortable and less grounded.”

“I see what you’re saying! And he usually shies away from girls!”

“Yoruichi’s got spunk, doesn’t she?”

“Oi, we got to prepare! Come on, now!”

Realizing this, you stepped away from Izuku, wishing him luck. He had told you that he wanted you to meet someone after the show, you could only nod at that.

Meeting carmine eyes, you faltered, body shifting to move, but stopped. Braving a look his way – much to his shock, you offered a small smile. “Break a leg.”

Their show was amazing, spectacular, a showstopper, and you made sure to relay your praises to the class afterwards.

Shortly after the show (and sharing your thoughts about their presentation), you were introduced to Eri, the sweet little girl Izuku told you about during his work-study. The moment you saw her, she immediately won your heart. Oh, and you were introduced to Mirio, a goofy senior who was super friendly and an amazing presence to behold.

Without even knowing, you somehow wounded up with the rest of 1-A joining whatever sorts of fun the cultural festival has to offer. Most of the time, you stuck close with Eri, who'd grown fond of you after your first meeting, sometimes, sticking with the girls (even though your nose would crinkle at girlish topics), or even hung with Bakugou's ragtag of friends (of which, you were surprised to find that he had a clique of his own!).

It was a rather eventful day, and your legs were all tired out from constantly moving around. Still, it was a fun day. Sitting against a railing, you watched as Izuku ran off towards the gate, a paper bag in hand. Smiling at his retreating frame, you leaned back and watched around, eyeing the festivities - or what's left of it, feeling suddenly lonely about it all. This was where Izuku and Bakugou went to school, this was their cultural festival, and you were just an outsider.

“Here,” you blinked as a churro appeared out of nowhere, offered to you. Retracting your hands from your sides, you carefully took the treat in your hands and looked up, meeting carmine - Bakugou.

“Thanks,” you reply, dumbly.

Sitting next to you, Bakugou was strangely quiet, hands buried in his pocket. “What did you think of our performance?” he asked, rather quietly.

“Pretty kickass,” you say honestly, still staring at your treat. "I forgot how well you could play the drums."

The corners of his mouth twitched, but his expression remained a careful, almost wistful blank. His eyes though, they were another story. “I’m glad you came, (Name).”

Scoffing, a smile found its way to your lips, you bump his shoulder with yours. Surprised, he looks up, eyes finding yours, (e/c) warm. “Yeah, me too.”

Something inside him stirs, strangely, comfortingly. He could feel his throat drying just looking at you, just as you bit on your churro - a big crunch, followed by sugar falling off.

“You should consider transferring.”

“Pass, I’ll just take the supplementary lessons Aizawa-san offers.”

"Like they'll do you good."

"Hm,” you swallow, using the back of your hand to wipe the cinnamon sugar off your mouth. “lest you forget I have my shitty old man, and he teaches me plenty."

He mulls at your words as you chew on your churro, enjoying the youthful vibe of the cultural festival. Truth be told, being here actually made you jealous. You never enjoyed the cultural festival at your middle school because everyone did such a mediocre job and could care less about having fun. But this? This was nice. Relaxing, fun even.

"What happened to you?"

Stopping midchew, you let the words sink in - word by word, before finishing the last piece of your churro. Mulling over his question, you leaned your head back to watch the cotton candy-colored skies. "I gave up." You said simply, decidedly, honestly. "You seem to disregard people who care about you."

He swallowed thickly at your words. There were a million things he wanted to say while you were right there, no animosity between the both of you for once, however, he found himself choked up. All the words, questions, they held up in his throat. It felt pretty fucking lame of him.

However, if anything, there was one thing he's been meaning to say to you for a very long time. "(Name)," he starts, he liked the way your name comes out of his mouth, always liked how it's comparably lighter to say compared to a million words that made up language.  "I'm sorry."

Startled, you turned to him, really stare at him. Two words, yet they carried so much weight. So much history addressed. So many years of fighting, crying, yelling, and stubbornness. All it took were just two words.

Surrendering, you leaned against his form - feeling his body flinch at the contact, but doesn't move away, eyes falling shut. "I'm sorry, too."

That made him scoff, offended at your apology. "Shut up," As far as history has shown, you have nothing to apologize for.

"No, really listen." you continue, eyes dropping to your fingers. "I'm much to blame for our history. I've been so incredibly petty, cynical even whenever it came to you. Izuku was always so forgiving and he'd try to pass it on to me, but I just tossed it aside, never realizing that in the process I was hurting both of my dearest friends. By neglecting Izuku's wishes, I was neglecting you in the process. I was so selfish."

"I've been selfish, too."

"I know."

"And prideful."

"Oh, I know."

The makings of a smile creep its way to his lips. "And shitty."

You snort. "Oh, believe me, I know." Unknowingly, you laughed easily.

Bakugou watches as you laugh - eyes crinkling, cheeks brightened (with a few specks of cinnamon sugar sticking), your teeth were exposing, a light-hearted laugh escaping your mouth, you looked so pretty like that. He rather liked hearing your laugh.

Finding his elbow, you wrapped your arm around his, leaning ever so closer. Bakugou might've jumped at that, but you couldn't tell, too contented at that moment. "I missed you, fucker."

At your admission, he felt his chest stilling, calming. Before realizing it, the expression on his face lightened, softened, carmine eyes taking in your form against it – had you seen it, it would have done you over.

It was the softest expression he could ever muster.

"I missed you, too-"

"Oi, Bakugou!"

"There you are! We've been looking all over for-"

Kaminari and Kirishima both stopped at the sight of two teens, relishing in each other's presence - quite comfortably, too - which was ruined by their arrival.

Curious, you peeked a look at the two teens.

And then there was Bakugou, who was absolutely furious.

masterlist • ten

[sombreboy]

Dining out⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook (brief ft.Namjoon & Jisoo) ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm, married couple ⇢word count: 8k ⇢warnings: Profanity, dumb humor, lil secret touching under the dinner table, bratty sub tae, dom daddy jk, I swear the daddy kink is heavy for these boys sometimes and this is one of those times, puppy petname; CHECK, blowjob, finger sucking, fingering, filming their shenanigans with their phone, tae fucks himself on jk's big doink then gets fucked good, meme ending because i am too lazy but at least you got a good fucking in. xo

A/N: Serves as a oneshot within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own. Co-written with my lovely @velvetwicebang​​ <3

“Okay, remember to feed her every two to three hours.” Jimin nodded; blonde hair bobbing as he did so. The man carefully bounced the babbling baby on his hip, suppressing the need to roll his eyes at Taehyung’s constant reminders. 

They’d only be gone for a few hours; but Taeyeon’s fathers were treating this like a five-month vacation. 

“Her formula is in the bag, and so is her apple sauce! Sometimes she gets fussy right after she eats, so rub her tummy and give her a few pats on the back. Also, there’s diapers—“

“Guys, we know. We’ve looked after her before, remember?” Jimin reached out to place a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder; unknowing of Taeyeon’s infatuation with his boyfriend’s tattoos. 

He didn’t have as many as her daddy Koo, but her shiny, doe eyes curiously scanned over the new piece of art. She found his eyes cool..

“No, I know.” Taehyung sighed, knowing he needed to calm the fuck down— but, Taeyeon.. but their date night.. “Normally we would’ve left her with Namjoon and Jisoo, but obviously that isn’t an option.”

“Cool, we’re the second choice. Nice.” Jimin wasn’t truly hurt by his friend’s careless reveal, only chuckling as he reassured them of the best.

“Shit, Jimin, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just she knows them bet—“

“Tae, be quiet before I throw this apple sauce at you.”

Taehyung’s mouth was glued shut.

“Just go out and have fun, alright? We’ll look after Taeyeon, she’s in good hands. You seem stressed out as hell, I dunno, maybe even fuck it out while you’re at it.”

Tae simply sighed, detaching himself from Jungkook’s arm to press a soft kiss onto Taeyeon’s head, bidding his temporary goodbyes.

“Okay, well.. we’re leaving. We should be back soon. Thanks, again.”

"Thanks guys, don't hesitate to call us if you need to!" Jungkook chirped, a bit less worried than his husband. Surprisingly, Taehyung seemed to be the one who was always extra, extra protective and worried about separating from their little daughter. Now, Kook was a worrier himself, but he never thought he'd be the one tugging at the elder to finally be able to let go of being a father for just one second.

Kook's eyes met with the little doe eyes their daughter mirrored, his toothy grin growing as she quickly resumed her attention towards the tall man. He might've looked a bit intimidating at first, but everyone quickly learned that he was probably the softest one of them all.

Jungkook pulled Taehyung with him quickly, closing the door behind them before heading towards their car. They haven't been able to get this kind of time to be a couple for quite a while, and both of them were excited-- and anxious. It was routine by now with their child, and breaking it was harder than it seemed. BUT, fuck, did they need it. Stress was no joke with these men. Work, eat, sleep, clean, shit... Take care of the baby, make time for each other?

It wasn't easy, but they were a team. And did they make a damn good one.

"You look good." Jungkook grasped for Tae's hand to hold it cutely by the car. "We should take a picture of this rare occasion of both of us being properly put together at the same time for once."

“You’re right. This is rare as fuck..” Taehyung’s shoulders dropped to a less unnatural position, deep-set brows resuming to their place, ripening his facial muscles. He hooked an arm around Jungkook’s delicate waist, pulling him in until their sides touched. “Let the photographer do the honors, ey?” Cocky as ever, the elder’s hand uninvitingly reached inside of Koo’s back pocket, searching for the younger’s phone whilst he hummed into their short-lived kiss. Tae pulled away with a dorky smile, angling the high-tech device towards the starry sky, a wash of light shining down on them as if the cluster of stars themselves were on their side; working towards getting them the perfect picture.

It was cheesy— every second of it— but, Taehyung found his anxiety crumbling the longer they spent taking silly photos, so he said: ‘fuck it’.

“I like this one, you look like a full course meal.” Tae nudged his husband’s side, believable as he mercilessly teased. “Ah, okay. We should get going before Joon thinks we’ve bailed or something, you know he always thinks of the worst.” The elder climbed onto the passenger seat, twisting his body to reach for the seatbelt. “How much do you wanna bet Jisoo is holding him back from making a phone call right now?”

Jungkook's bunny-like grin grew at the compliment, the apple of his cheeks tinted with a rosy hue. He grabbed his cell phone back from his husband before sitting down in the driver's seat, deciding to post their selfie on his Instagram.

"I bet she took his phone away already. If not, they'll see our pretty picture." Kook scrunched his nose before placing his phone down in his front pocket. He starts the car and backs out on the driveway, giving their home one last glance before driving off.

"I'm excited, honestly. We haven't had a second for ourselves lately." The younger sighed, eyes flickering to keep his attention on the traffic. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other reached over to smooth over Taehyung's thigh as if to soothe him.. Koo could easily tell the elder was still having a bit of separation anxiety for leaving their daughter with their friends... "Let's enjoy this to the fullest, don't think too much. You know what would be nice? A few drinks to loosen up a bit."

“Yeah, I need that.” Taehyung knew Koo could see right through him. It was no secret that the elder’s mind lingered somewhere else; Taeyeon, to be exact. Tae knew he was extremely overprotective, it was never something he’d felt ashamed of in the past. What could you expect from someone who grew up in a hostile environment when they were younger?— it pained him to think this way, but.. If his own father could raise a hand at him, what would a stranger be capable of doing? Of course Tae didn’t think any of their friends would obtain such malice, nor were they strangers to Taeyeon. The opposite, in fact. Each and every one of their hyungs held a special place in the girl’s heart. The elder guessed that his past’s trauma arose now that he was a father himself. Taehyung wanted to do better.

Jungkook's smile didn't falter from his face the entire ride, the faint tugging of his lips in excitement a constant reminder of how relieved he actually is to be able to get some time alone to focus on his friends-- and especially his husband for the night. He pulled up into the restaurant parking lot, the scent coming off the building already hitting their noses even as they sat outside in their car. Kook inhaled with a content sigh, leg almost jumping in excitement. He was a foodie after all-- and since he finally has a stable income along with Taehyung, he's never had to worry whether or not there'd be food on the table. Cheesy one might say, but once in a while the younger still enjoyed to microwave some noodles on occasion either way.

"We're here." He cooed joyfully as he clicked the seatbelt off to lean over to the passenger seat, placing a haste kiss on Taehyung's cheek. He lingered, letting his lips hover over the elders skin. Taking a moment, he drank in the view. Taehyung has always been the most handsome man that Jungkook had ever laid eyes on, and as the years passed by quickly, that still never changed. One would say Taehyung only became hotter, aging like a fine wine.

"You look so good tonight... I won't be able to keep my eyes off you." Kook smiled, cupping Taehyung's cheek to draw him in for a proper kiss.

Taehyung giggled in the midst of their kiss, the sound so small and indistinct, but in the calming stillness of a parked vehicle it was impossible for its vibrations to go over one’s head. It definitely went noticed by the culprit himself, who blushed at the abrupt realization that even after many years spent by Koo’s side, the latter always knew how to make him feel beautiful..

“Thanks. You look really good too, baby..” Tae licked over his lips, able to still taste Jungkook despite the younger having pulled away. “Fuck, okay. Let’s go in; I’m hungry and Joon’s probably losing it by now.”

“Where the hell were you guys? We’ve been waiting for what—“ Namjoon’s eyes flickered down to his watch, “—fifteen minutes?”

Taehyung snorted, “What do you want us to do? Get down on the ground and bow at your feet?”

“You know what? Hell yea—“

Jisoo stepped in, speaking on behalf of her husband, “No need for any major bows here.. Ah, please sit down. Joon’s extra dramatic when he’s hungry.”

"You're not you when you're hungry." Jungkook recited the old commercial with a giggle, shaking his head at how bad it was-- but so funny to his young mind. He sat down in the booth across from Jisoo, with Taehyung sliding down next to him to sit across from Joon.

"Fifteen minutes is precious cooking time at a place like this, Kook. Don't joke--"

"Won't happen again hyung!" Jungkook saluted clearly, his toothy grin too effective towards Joon-- whether he wanted to admit it or not. His bunny-like smile would never cease to work as a secret weapon...

"Whatever." Namjoon grumbled as he picked up the digital device on the table used to order their food. 

"How have you guys been?" Jisoo chirped as she glanced over at the little tablet, clicking occasionally to help navigate Joon's confused behavior towards the device.

"Stressed." Jungkook sighed, leaning his head against Taehyung's shoulder. "Having a child is no joke, there's never a dull day. But I love it, though." Kook mused, waiting for their turn with the tablet, reaching out for it when Jisoo had completely taken over to order for her and her husband. He stares at the contents for a moment, showing Tae the various choices of alcohol, hovering with his finger over the stronger drinks with a coy eyebrow.

“You know me too well.” Taehyung returned the favor, imitating Koo’s raised brow before pointing at the drink of his choice; Tae was aware he needed to chillax. And alcohol never disappoints.

Once they were finished ordering their starting drinks, the elder dismissed the tablet to the side. He scooted closer to Jungkook until they were practically squished together in spite of the extra space; playing with his husband’s fingers from under the table.

“Yeah, Taeyeon’s a handful.” The corner of Taehyung’s lips twitched upwards as he amusingly breathed out through his nose, mind tracing back to their daughter. “But she’s cute though, so it makes up for it.” The elder turned his head to look at Kook, “Also, this guy right here is pretty good with babies.”

Jisoo voiced out her agreement, reminded of the older days when Jungkook would help her with Yuna once he was done with school. Now her friend was married, and caring after a baby of his own.. Proud was an understatement in Jisoo’s mind. Every time she looked at Koo her heart swelled; the boy she once knew had grown into a man. But then again, Jungkook had always been really mature. In a sense, it’s the same guy Jisoo’s always considered her close friend— and fed on the daily.. “Joon could learn a few things..”

The mumbling under the older woman’s breath didn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon, who came to his own defense as quickly as lightning strikes the ground, “I showed up to the wrong preschool once!”

Taehyung butted in, confused but amused, “You forgot where your son goes to school?” Tae’s shoulders vibrated as he laughed, suddenly feeling much better about his own mishaps as a parent.

“The drinks can come out anytime now..” Namjoon tried to swerve away from the topic; his failed attempt at being sly earned himself a couple rounds of laughter.

Yeah, maybe Taehyung needed this..

As the tray of drinks finally arrived, they were left to sip on whatever they've ordered while waiting for their dinner. Jisoo and Namjoon both opted for the simple choice; beer. While Jungkook was an avid enthusiast of alcohol, whether it be beer, tequila, wine... He did settle for a large glass of wine, perfect for the occasion on his end-- and perfect as it always got him pleasantly warmed up.

"Ah, I'm so hungry...." Jungkook groaned, waiting for that big, fat juicy steak he'd seen on the screen. Meat was his one true love-- if you'd disregard the fact that his husband existed. He worked out just as avidly as he did in their younger days.. Well, tried to, and therefore his appetite was comparable to that of a horse.

"You're always hungry!" Jisoo joked, slapping Joon's shoulder as she laughed.

"Yah! Why'd you hit me?!" Namjoon nudged her shoulder back with his dimpled smile.

"Ah, food!" Jungkook's big, doe eyes sparkled with a childlike joy when the food finally arrived, jaw hanging open in pure admiration.

Taehyung chimed out loud along with Koo, ignoring Jisoo’s and Namjoon’s playful banter in the background. All that was on his mind at the moment was, ‘must eat’. Taeyeon snuck in there once in a while, but Tae trusted Jimin and his boyfriend. They’ve always returned his baby back in one piece, so that’s that. Maybe the alcohol was helping; he wasn’t as restless.

“Fuuck,” Taehyung knocked his head back, resting it against the backrest of the booth whilst he chewed on the piece of meat, savoring the burst of flavor that’d just popped in his mouth. “Koo, here.” It didn’t matter that they ordered the same meal, Tae still cut out a small piece for his husband to try. He blew on it before guiding it into Jungkook’s mouth, “Fucking delicious, right?”

Jungkook chomped the piece of meat off the fork with his bunny teeth, chewing it happily. His eyes widened as he nodded, humming in content. Food did taste better when it was from your husband's plate, confirmed. "So fucking good, oh my god.. " Koo agreed. Both men were just feeding off of each other's plates at this point, letting out all their curses and groans occasionally. Being censored on the daily was harder than they thought, and finally letting it all out--- somewhat satisfying.

Namjoon eyed the couple with a mix of disgust for their cheesiness, yet the dimples proved that he couldn't hold his smile for the two. They were grown ass men, and yet they acted like dorky the teens they’ve always been the moment they are together like this. It was endearing.

"What? You want me to feed you too?" Jisoo nudged Joon with a coy smile on her lips, immediately laughing when he shook his head.

"Definitely not." He joked back. He hated to share his food-- but so did Jisoo, so it was okay.

The evening went on for a bit, everyone talking-- rather, Namjoon rambling about everything and nothing while the rest ate, drank, and drank....

Jungkook couldn't help but continuously look over at his husband. He was just so fucking hot, when was the last time he was able to truly admire him like this? Forever ago.. A few drinks in and Koo's cheeks were hot, hazy eyes only half listening to the rambling from the other side of the table, nodding absentmindedly. His hand, however, decided to snake over to the elder's lap, gently rubbing up and down the soft fabrics, feeling the firm muscle underneath.

Taehyung was just as buzzed; their conversations only stuck with him for a couple of seconds before he reached for his glass of wine, downing the remainder of the scarlet drink. He was loosening up, or so he thought.. The meat of the elder’s thigh clenched, and his dimmed eyes averted downwards towards the source of the unexpected caress on his leg. With barely any space between the two, Tae awkwardly shifted around in his seat— however, he didn’t bother on pushing Jungkook’s hand away.

He liked it..

It’s been a hot minute since his husband put this much attention on him. The touch was small, but even such delicacy had Taehyung’s hormones in a twist..

“What are you doing?” He leaned in to whisper into Koo’s ear, resting his own hand on the younger’s thigh. Tae told himself that it was for balance, but even he knew that wasn’t exactly the truth. “Fuck, you’re hard,” his hand had slithered upwards to Jungkook’s crotch, groping his husband’s cock through the fabric of Kook’s pants.

"What are you doing? ah.." Jungkook's thighs quivered, gently bucking up into Tae's hand as he desperately tried to act unaffected. Not that the other couple would notice-- they were just as buzzed, just rambling, occasionally bantering... Koo barely noticed their presence at this point.

All he could think about was Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung...

"You just look so hot, babe, how could I not be hard?.." He huffed quietly, the hand on Tae's thigh mirroring the elders movements by palming his husband's cock right back, able to feel the shape and girth of it through the fabrics. "Shit, what I'd do to have you on your knees below this table instead..."

Taehyung’s shrunken pupils vigilantly switched between his husband and the other couple in front of them, until he realized there was no need..

Joon and Jisoo weren’t quite at their level, but it was obvious the beer had gotten to their systems if the cheesy mumbles and sudden display of affection were anything to go by. They were never cheesy— in front of them, at least.

“Don’t tempt me, we’ll probably get banned from this place or something..” Tae’s drunken smile beamed in the dimmed lighting before his lips abruptly took the shape of an ‘o’. Embarrassed, he nuzzled his nose in the dip of Jungkook’s neck, continuing to rub and squeeze Koo’s prominent bulge at a fixed pace despite crumbling underneath the younger’s teasing himself. “It’s been so long since I really got to feel you like this, and it’s been too long since you’ve felt me; really felt me..” 

“Let us in on the secrets! Don’t be so secretiveee, it’s not nice, y’know.” Jisoo loudly sipped on her water’s straw, lips closing in on the frail plastic after her third try— her aim when drunk was amusing.

“This feels like all the way back to, uh, second grade was it? When all my buds talked shit behind my back ‘n crap.”

The woman pouted, “Awe, babe, fuck those kids. Look at you now, with mee! They wish they had me.”

Namjoon understood in spite of her strong slurring, “They’ll never have you, mine.”

Taehyung turned to look back at Jungkook, face reading; ‘what the fuck’. “Wanna get out of here? Kinda want some.. privacy.”

Jungkook couldn't even play it cool at this point, his eager nodding proving just how badly he wanted to get out of there as well-- if his throbbing erection wasn't enough to go by. "Yeah, please." Kook’s ragged breath whispered back, withdrawing his hand from Taehyung's crotch to inhale deeply. "Follow me... I have a fun idea." Since they couldn't go home, nor did they have a hotel room for the night-- there was only one option the younger could think of. A fun one, in his own mind. It's been a long fucking time since they did something a little risky... Jungkook was gonna try to say something to the other couple, but it was easier than he expected to have them accept their disappearance, so he simply got up, leaning down to whisper once again into Tae's ear.

"I'll be waiting in the bathroom... You have two minutes. No more, no less." He cooed, a mischievous grin on his lips as he placed a gentle kiss on the elders cheek before strolling off towards the bathroom area, closing the door behind him. The anticipation-- the small amount of waiting was enough to rile him up even further. And surely he hoped it did the same to Taehyung.

Fuck the bathroom, I’ll willingly get down on my knees right at this second— Is what Taehyung wanted to say, but he was far too stunned to even respond with a dumb nod of his head. Jungkook had strutted away without waiting for an answer, and for that Tae was glad.. Every time the younger asserted his natural dominance, Taehyung was left a flustered, unable-to-form-coherent-sentences mess. The elder was convinced the alluring words that slipped past Koo’s lips tasted like honey; they were sweet and sticky, making it awfully hard for Taehyung to forget them.

“I’ll be waiting in the bathroom.. You have two minutes. No more, no less.”

The man didn’t realize he’d been stalling until Jisoo asked him where Jungkook had gone off to.

“He’s.. somewhere. I’m going to the restroom, I’ll be back.” He kept it short ‘n sweet, knowing that whatever was going to happen in the secluded space would be anything but. Jungkook liked taking his time, and Taehyung enjoyed taking all his husband had to offer. The elder loved drowning himself in the moment, which is why he’d grown keen of using his beloved camera for other reasons.. Taehyung looked back on the films a lot— it was hot, and it gave him an excuse to miss Jungkook whilst he was away at work. More often than not Tae couldn’t act on his sexual desires; only settling for giving Koo a messy hand job before they called it a night. But today? It was going to be different.

Taehyung’s eager hand slowly turned on the doorknob, brows arched in anticipation when he’d met Jungkook’s gaze on the other side. It was a family restroom, meaning it was quite small. There were no stalls, only space meant for one. Or two..

Tae’s back was pressed up against the door as he pushed it shut, making sure to lock it. He stayed still in his place, arms shyly tucked from behind him. “I think I went over two minutes, daddy.”

"You did, puppy." The corner of Jungkook's lip curved into a smirk as he moved forward, barely a few steps before he was already towering over his husband. Internally, he was eager.. Impatient in every sense of the word. But tonight was a once in a while occasion, and it didn't occur often enough for him to waste it on a quick fuck. He'd been longing for this opportunity to truly feel Taehyung again, and boy.. was his body itching to feel everything.

"Can't even follow one simple instruction.." Jungkook tsk'd playfully, pressing up his body against Tae's, deliberately brushing their crotches together to make sure the elder felt just how hard he was for him already. "What do I do with a boy that misbehaves..." Now, Taehyung was anything but a boy-- but making the elder feel smaller was one of his favorite things to do, belittling him until he was nothing but a whiny, pleading sweetheart. Kook grasped Tae's chin in his long, tattooed grasp to demand eye contact, tilting his head lightly to the side like a curious pup would. "Do you need a reminder of why you call me daddy?"

“Hmm... I think I do..” Taehyung’s tongue peeked out from the small, surprised opening of his flushed lips, brushing over the moisturized skin and wetting it with its saliva. A hitched gasp followed suit, emphasizing the gloss-like effect he’d made for himself; Taehyung knew Koo was a sucker for the posh look. Slowly, his lips relaxed, and Taehyung’s intense gaze clashed with his husband’s. He allowed the latter to feel superior by standing tall before him, while Tae cowered in his place. The delicate, firm hold on his chin was beginning to make itself known, but the elder didn’t dare move out of Jungkook’s clutch. “Remind me, Koo.. why do I call you daddy?” Taehyung’s hands gripped at the younger’s hips, stifling his faint moans as their crotches pressed against one another.

It’s been too fucking long.

“What makes you worthy of that title?” He kept on pushing, wishing Kook would drop the foreplay and fuck him numb once and for all.. The elder was less patient, but he was just as needy.

Jungkook's lips curled into a smirk to serve as a response to Taehyung's daring words, knowing just how needy his husband was to just be stuffed with his cock already. But what the younger loved even more, was the buildup-- to make Tae so flushed and desperate that when he finally gets what he desires, it'll be more than worth the wait.

"Ah, my baby has already forgotten...." He huffs through heavy breaths, leaning forward to kiss his husband. As his tongue claimed the elder's mouth as his own to explore as he wishes, his hands hungrily roamed down his body, feeling and groping at every curve before they began to unbutton Tae's shirt, exposing his flushed skin. Without wasting another second, Jungkook's hands smoothed up Tae's stomach, his thumbs swiping over the elder's nipples softly-- at first. He groaned into the hot kiss, not stopping his hungry ministrations all while continuously teasing Tae's perky nipples, lightly pinching them between the calloused pads of his fingers.

Taehyung’s frail body squirmed in delight, the skin of his chest buried in small goosebumps whilst Jungkook spared him no mercy on one of his most responsive areas. The filthy noises of mild fulfillment scratched at the back of the elder’s throat, calling out for vocal release only to get pushed back down by Kook’s tongue. 

“Mmhm..” Tae vaguely hummed into the heated kiss, hot puffs of air slipping past his nose, warming Jungkook’s already sultry skin. Everything about the younger was hot; like a predictable summer’s day.. Just one kiss and Taehyung began melting against him, his smaller body frame molding against the barely-noticeable dip from Jungkook’s chest to his pelvis. Eager, Tae never stopped rubbing their crotches together, driving his husband’s hips towards his own.

“Fuck, babe...” Tae whimpered once he pulled away from the kiss, chest rising while his lungs worked to retrieve back air. Taehyung’s head tipped backwards, bottom lip caught in between his teeth as he nonverbally encouraged Koo to continue playing with his sensitive nipples.

“Daddy.. please film me.” Tae might not have his camera at hand, but something about the quality of a phone turned him on. The elder wants to be able to look back on this moment.. He wants to be able to see his reflection in the mirror while Jungkook fucks him— phone held tightly in his hand. Tae wants Koo to focus on the way his cock sinks deep into him, catching Taehyung’s loud, hiccupy moans on video. They’ve filmed themselves a few times in the past, but Tae’s camera was set up on a tripod. Now, they had the opportunity to pilot a phone how they pleased. Jungkook could pan in on whatever he wanted, get a close-up of the goodies.. “Please, daddy. I’ll be a good boy... I’ll squeeze around you so tight. I’ll be so warm.. fuck— I’ll be your little bitch until you stuff me full of your cum. Then I’ll be nothing but your cum dumpster..”

Jungkook's cock twitched heavily beneath the fabrics, the thought alone of filming his husband in such a scenario bringing him more excitement than he expected. Tae’s cameras were fun, the quality superb... but using his phone seemed so much more intimate, it had the younger heated in excitement.

"Fuck yes... I'll stuff you so well. But first..." Kook placed his hands on the elders shoulders, using his strength to force him down on his knees. With a swift motion, he unbuckled his pants and tugged them down, too eager to wait for his cock to be engulfed by Tae’s plushy lips. His cock bobbed when set free, letting it freely taunt Taehyung as he dug for his cellphone in his back pocket. "Suck on it, puppy." His low, raspy tone was laced with lust, eyes staring at Taehyung's lips through the camera screen on his phone when he pointed it down from his view. "When it's nice and wet, I'll fuck your tight ass until you can barely walk out of here."

“Whatever you say, daddy..” His warm hands skimmed upwards from Jungkook’s beautifully muscular thighs to the latter’s base, where Taehyung took his time feeling the younger’s cock. He began by lazily flicking his wrist, multitasking while the other hand kneaded his husband’s balls. Taehyung played innocent, staring up at the camera whilst his tongue circled around the head; his long eyelashes fluttering in a coy manner. 

“Daddy.. daddy, you’re so fucking hot when you’re in control.” Closing his eyes, Tae leaned back in, slowly taking all of Jungkook into the warmth of his mouth. He’s had plenty of practice, his gag reflex was practically nonexistent at this point in their relationship. Taehyung guessed all of those times he’d sucked Jungkook off under the covers when their friends were around— or when he got too impatient and gave Koo the suck of his life in the middle of the grocery store’s parking lot. Not to mention, the birthdays when he’d woken Jungkook up with his limp cock throat-deep in Taehyung’s mouth. They all paid off when it came to unplanned moments such as this one.

Tae hollowed out his cheeks, bobbing his head as he dragged his tongue from Kook’s base to the tip, leaving a trail of saliva along the hardened girth. He’d gotten so consumed in the moment, that Taehyung had forgotten all about the camera.

"Whoa, so pretty when you take my cock like that..." Jungkook's voice was shaky, already feeling the muscles in his thighs tense up. Taehyung knew exactly how to suck him off properly, every drag and movement done with the utmost purpose, hitting every sensitive nerve that riles up Kook to the max.

"I can tell you love it, fuck..." He stated as if it was a fact, and it was. Kook kept one hand gently combing through Tae's dark curls, brushing his fringe away to be able to get a proper visual of the elder through his phone screen, focusing on how his husbands plush lips stretch with the younger's girth, the slick saliva on his silky skin glistening even in his digital eye. "Okay, baby, that's enough... Spit on it and get up, pull down your pants and bend over the sink. Need a good view of your pretty ass."

Taehyung might be a natural-born brat in other aspects, but he never disobeyed Kook’s orders inside of the bedroom. Or a public restroom.. No matter how much Tae wanted to keep going, he did as his husband told, leisurely withdrawing from Jungkook’s cock as if it was the last thing he wanted to do. The elder stalled at the tip, glistening eyes peeling open to meet the phone’s unwavering perspective from above him, keeping a digital memory of Taehyung’s lightly damped, crimson cheeks. His swollen lips pulled off with a loud pop, eyes dimmed as they switched downwards to his husband’s cock. He gathered saliva, swishing the warm, thick substance around his tongue before allowing it to drip down on Jungkook’s already-drenched head.

“It’s so wet..” Tae’s thumb rubbed deep circles on the small slit, moaning to himself at the sly muscle spasms in Jungkook’s clenched thighs. Once Taehyung was satisfied, he followed through with the second order. Shimmying out of the tight jeans that hugged around his thick ass, Tae let them drop to his ankles along with his boxers.

He really was one impatient boy.. He couldn’t wait to get utterly fucked; Taehyung was always horny for cock.

With each hand gripping onto the side of the sink until his knuckles turned white, the elder stood before Koo, back slightly arched whilst his soft stomach pressed up against the cold surface.

“You like what you’re seeing, daddy?” He spoke, looking at Jungkook through the mirror, feeling more cocky now that he wasn’t kneeling down in front of his husband.

"Mhm." Jungkook hummed in approval, his eyes dilated with lust as he dumbfoundedly stared at Taehyung's full cheeks. He's seen his husband naked more times than he could ever count, but every single time it turned him on just as much-- He was insatiable when it came to Kim Taehyung. He angled the camera down as he approached Tae from behind, using his free hand to grab a handful of the flesh, squeezing hard just to see the skin redden underneath his fingers, watching the fat protrude in between his digits. "I love what I'm seeing... Fuck, I've been thinking about doing this to you all day--work was dreadful."

Jungkook's blunt nails dragged across the tanned skin, leaving faint pink marks in it's rake. He spread his cheek with one hand, just enough for him to see his unused entrance. By now the elder had gotten used to Jungkook's sizable stretch without much preparation, although some would still be needed... It had been a while after all. Kook switched the angle to the reflection, making a show out of the way he sucks his finger until it's nice and slick, however wasting no time in massaging Taehyung's delicate rim, and then finally sliding his middle finger inside of his heated flesh. He films Tae's expressions through the mirror before switching back to filming the way he drags his finger in and out of him. A low groan slips past Kook's lips, his cock throbbing as it rests against Taehyung's ass, still wet and impatiently waiting for it's turn to feel the warmth it craves.

"Stretched so easily tonight-- you're that cockhungry, huh." Kook digs his finger deeper past his knuckle, glancing back at the reflection to watch the blissful expressions on his lover's face.

The elder wasn’t given the chance to come up with a vague answer, only mewling softly as he felt his insides grip around Jungkook’s finger; the squeeze so tight while it clenched and unclenched that it almost forced Kook’s single digit out. Still, Taehyung worked on regaining his breaths, relaxing his muscles for a deeper stretch. Jungkook’s cock must’ve plunged deep into him over a million times, but that never meant Tae would lose his tightness. Every time felt just like the first.

“Oh my g-god.. move your finger— please.” Taehyung deliberately squeezed harder, squirming in delight when he felt the pad of Jungkook’s digit brush against his prostate.

Jungkook's lips tugged into a light smirk, a hot breath huffing through them at the beautiful sound of his husband pleading for more. Everything his man did turned him on, but the begging.. It was next level music to his ears. He kept the camera close enough to be able to see the skin of his finger coated in Tae's juices as he pulled out, only to shove in a second along with the first when he pushed it back inside, effortlessly with the sheer amount of force he used to refill the elders tight heat. Kook curled his fingers ever so slightly, just enough to reach that sweet spot better as he began to curl and uncurl his fingers a few times, relishing in the visible contractions around his digits.

"Your ass is squeezing me so tight... Ahh, the camera loves you.." He groaned, now fucking his fingers in and out of Taehyung, his stable hold on the phone capturing every single drag, clench and wet squelch. "You think you could take me already? It's gonna be a tight fit, but fuck... I want to feel your ass crush my cock."

As if the rest of his body was beginning to give out, Taehyung’s head dipped forward, panting heavily until he could make out the hot puffs of air grazing against his own chest. 

“D-daddy— fuuck..” His hips rocked into the younger’s nimble fingers, relishing in the toe-curling way Jungkook teased his prostate. “Y-yeah, ‘m ready. First— a-ahh..” Taehyung hissed, raising his head once more to look at his husband through the mirror, long fringe reaching his pleading eyes. “Can I have a taste? Wanna suck on your fingers.” Taehyung didn’t shift eye-contact; eager to swirl his hot tongue around the same fingers that’d been deep inside of him.

Jungkook's small dimples grew more prominent along with his smile, crooking a coy eyebrow as he slowly popped his fingers out of Tae's stretched hole, leaning forward to press his chest against his lover's back, his wet cock pressed between Taehyung's cheeks. He brought his slick digits to Taehyung's hungry mouth, filming the reflection to get a proper view of both men.

"Here you go baby. Daddy's fingers are coated in your lovely juices... Have a taste, give me a good show."

The hand closest to Jungkook’s let go of its numbed grasp on the sink, instead reaching for his husband’s wrist as Taehyung enveloped the two fingers whole. The elder moaned; one that advanced from deep in his chest and rang throughout the otherwise quiet restroom.

He tasted sweet. Tae fucking bet he’s the sweetest Jungkook’s ever had..

He grinded his ass against Kook’s pelvis, staring at his man through the mirror with an intensified gaze, tongue lapping around and between the delicious digits, lips puckered whilst Taehyung bobbed his head. Thick drool dripped from the corner of his mouth, running down his slobbered chin; but he didn’t mind. Having yet to avert his strong eye-contact, Tae arched his back further to really press against his husband, having fun teasing the hell out of him. 

“Mmm~..” Taehyung’s lips were past Jungkook’s tattooed knuckles, sucking roughly on the latter’s fingers as if it was the younger’s cock tucked in between his cheeks.

Jungkook's normally strong facade of stoism struggled to remain intact right at this moment. Too many things went on, from Tae's ever so piercing gaze, the way his tongue lapped at the younger's fingers, and last but definitely not fucking least; his plump ass grinding against Kook's aching cock. It was too much, and it had been way too long. Jungkook didn't care anymore, his expression morphing into that of pure admiration and lust for his husband, gawking like a dumbass at the show he did so kindly ask for.

"Fuck, that's hot... you're so fucking hot, puppy." He growled lowly, almost frustrated at how Taehyung was allowed to be this gorgeous. It should be illegal. Kook watched the elder work his fingers for a short moment before he had enough, withdrawing his hand to harshly smack his husband's ass. "You're too sexy, it drives me fucking crazy.." Another smack, this time keeping his palm on his ass before squeezing it hard between his fingers, spreading the cheek to grant himself better access to grind his tip against the lightly gaped hole. "Shit, look at this... All mine." Kook huffs under heavy breaths, panning camera down Taehyung's prominent cleavage of his spine runs down his back, until the lens settled on where the head of Jungkook's length prodded at Tae's entrance.

"Move backwards baby, fuck yourself on my cock." Jungkook commands, loud enough to clearly capture his voice in the recording-- knowing Taehyung will love looking back and hearing these specific words.

Taehyung’s body jolted forward with every firm, jaw-clenching slap to his ass; his cheek grew tender the more Jungkook’s palm came in contact with the agitated skin, leaving behind a noticeable outline of his hand to linger for days on end. If the video didn’t serve as enough of a reminder, the sting sure as hell will. The elder was on the brink of crying out loud, having to bite down on his lip to prevent himself from screaming Jungkook’s name.

“Feels so good..” Taehyung sank back until the slick head of Jungkook’s cock popped through the gateway to his familiar insides, instantly clenching down on his husband’s skin as a warm greeting. “Fuck, fuck... so big, daddy.” Moving backwards until he nudged Kook’s pelvis, Tae took a minute to adjust to the length, muttering filthy curses under his heated breath. “Is that tight enough for you, hm? You’re so hard inside of me, ahh..” Once he deemed himself ready, Taehyung slowly began fucking himself on Jungkook’s cock, stopping at the tip before he plopped back in with more force, wiggling his hips against Kook before repeating the action. “So hard, I can feel you twitching, Koo..”

"Ah, fuck-- Taehyung..." Jungkook doesn't hold back letting his husband know how good his ass feels. He runs his flat palm down the prominent line on Tae's back where his spine hides, keeping his hips still for a moment to allow the elder to fuck himself on his cock. Kook keeps the camera focused on the way his slick length disappears inside the stretched hole, in awe of the view through the screen. "So tight, you're so fucking tight-- good god... How could I ever get enough of this?" He hisses through his ragged breath. When satisfied with the good work Taehyung put into getting himself used to Kook's size, the younger decides that it's time to reward his lover.

With a rough snap of his hips, Jungkook thrusts forward to meet Tae's ass as it moved back against him, the loud echo of their skin slapping together drawing a guttural moan from the tattooed male.

"You're such a good boy for me." He redirects the camera back towards the reflection to capture Taehyung's jolting body as he began to build a momentum to the way he fucked into him, slow but rhythmical, forceful but precise. "Aren't you? My little good boy?"

A loud, unavoidable gasp left past Taehyung’s loose lips as he hunched over the sink, toes tightly curled in his shoes as one of his many reactions to Jungkook’s quickened thrust. His hands were balled up into fists; forearms resting on each side of the sink whilst he arched his ass further back. “Y-your good boy, yes,” the elder rasped out, voice as thin as ice, and tone as unstable as his legs while Jungkook fucked him. “Hngh.. I love you, fuck me harder.”

If harder was what Taehyung wanted, Jungkook was in no position to deny his wishes. He knows just how whipped the elder was for his muscles, and the endless hours spent building and maintaining them surely didn't go unnoticed by his husband. Rather the opposite, Kook loved the attention-- ever since they were younger, the elder seemed to have a special fascination towards the strength Jungkook possessed. He allows his body to serve as a response to Taehyung's request, the hand on his hip digging harder into his tanned skin, holding him in place as the younger increases the force of his thrusts, at first dragging his entire length in and out to ensure that every single inch of Tae's insides feels the friction of being filled to the brim.

"Oh my god.." Jungkook huffs out, throwing his head back, screwing his eyes shut in rapture as he pounds mindlessly, focusing only on how good it feels right at this moment to just fuck his husband dumb. The phone in his hand became less of a priority at this point, shaky and blurred, however it captured every wet sound of their bodies joining, every breathy grunt, and every single squeak of the sink as Kook's powerful hips jerked Taehyung's body forward roughly.

The gnawing weight of a hundred curse-words on Taehyung’s tongue never subsided. Every invasive jerk of his husband’s quick hips made him want to scream out in rapture; to sob from the overwhelming feeling of Jungkook’s rigid cock entering him over and over again until he was so fucked out that his eyes no longer saw the faded blue-wash of the tiles on the spinning bathroom wall.

Taehyung fuckin’ loved that. He felt as if he was floating on cloud nine; as if he was reliving his brief encounter with drugs when he was a young teen. His husband’s fucking was a heavy drug, there was never a time where Taehyung didn’t enjoy the high it gave him.

“I love it when you put me in my place, hmph!” Tae’s voice was sultry— breathy. Still as deep, but far more hitched. Every menacing smack of Jungkook’s pelvis against his rosy skin stole his breath away, gasps getting caught in the man’s throat before they were reduced to soft mewls. “F-fuck, daddy’s fat cock never disappoints..” The elder straightened his spine, caramel shoulder blades flexed as he depended on his weak arms to keep him in place. Taehyung stared at Kook’s diverse expressions through the mirror; internally praising himself. Moaning, one of his arms blindly reached backwards until his hand groped Jungkook’s ass, feeling the muscles twitch with every thrust. He tipped his head back against Kook’s shoulder, turning his head until Taehyung could smell the odor of built-up sweat on the small dip of Jungkook’s pale skin.

His back remained lightly arched, driven forward from every slam to his wet insides. “Ah, fuck.. yes, daddy!” The elder’s nose was burrowed in the crook of Kook’s neck, brows twitching slightly as a sudden warmth approached his lower stomach.

"Love when you call me daddy." Jungkook breathes out his words in a haste, grunts following with every thrust, smacking his pelvis against Taehyung's plump ass to feel it jiggle against him. He snakes one strong arm around his husband's torso, the one holding the cellphone to angle it back to film the reflection, as the other keeps a tight grip on his hip to ensure his lover doesn't fly forward from the rough effort he puts into every sloppy thrust.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, baby. Look at your pretty, big cock--fuck.." Kook couldn't look away from the view in the mirror, the elder's body was erotic in this position, skin glistening with sweat, cock swollen and red, looking as if it was about to burst at any second with how well Kook fucked into him.

"A-are you close? God, I'm gonna cum... fill your ass up so well, I want you to hold it in until we get home, okay?" Jungkook nudges the elder's cheek with his nose to bring them face to face. "Kiss me, wanna taste your pretty moans as you cum."

Taehyung enthusiastically attached his touch-starved lips to Jungkook’s smaller, sweeter ones. His warm hand extended upwards to eagerly cup his husband’s face, the pad of his thumb swiping across the younger’s scar whilst he deepened their messy kiss, low hums of approval ringing from profound in his rising chest. His squirming body jolted forward with more force, the ability to withstand Jungkook’s irregular thrusts slowly drained out of him, leaving Taehyung frail to every insignificant nudge.

“G-Gonna cum.. gonna cum so much..!” The elder leaned in once more, unable to take the empty feeling in his mouth. He generously sucked on Jungkook’s tongue, their drool running past his chin and slowly cascading down Taehyung’s neck, illuminating the way his Adam’s apple would bob with every forceful swallow. His husband’s spit was so warm. It was like medicine to his drained throat.. There came a time where Tae’s breathing was getting scarce; he pulled away with a soft gasp. His curtained eyes were glazed with fresh tears, vision blurry as he looked down at his swollen dick and the way it hit against the sink’s cooling edge.

So close..

“F-fuuck! Oh.. hngh, daddy, I’m gonna— A-aahh— ah.. hmm!” His high-pitched moans were muffled against Jungkook’s slick lips, mouth unmoving as Taehyung focused on giving his husband every drop of his filthy sounds.

He stayed still for a few seconds, twitching against Jungkook’s larger body, whining whilst his eyes fluttered shut.

“Fuck... I’m hungry.”

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[onigirisamu]

Hello, dear!~ Thank you very much for Inarizaki headcanons~ I like this team and I hope that you like them too! And I also like your headcanons! Can I ask one more scenario (or headcanons, if you like it more) about Inarizaki and their manager (like part 2)? She suddenly starts to come back home earlier than usual. Boys think that she has boyfriend, so they start to spy on her and see her with boy. But in the end, it turns out that she worked to give the guys gifts.

i LOVE this team !!!! thank you so much for liking them! i settled on a scenario type for this fic since i tend to get carried away with writing lol im not so sure if this is what you wanted tho, sorry in advance!!

➽───────────────❥

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

inarizaki x manager! reader

pairing: inarizaki x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: its kinda all over the place... im so sorry!!! i also suck at titles ;_;

➽───────────────❥

It was 5 pm. The team was still at full energy, spiking the yellow and blue colored balls left and right. Y/n glances around the gym nervously, clutching her clipboard tightly.

Some of the boys had stopped practicing to go wipe their sweat and drink water, Atsumu in particular noticed that their lovely manager was slightly fidgeting in their spot.

"Hm? What's the matter, manager-chan?" He said in a light teasing voice, taking a swig of water from his bottle.

"N-nothing...nope! Nothing at all, haha..." Atsumu raises his eyebrows and shrugs, going to where his brother was. "That was weird." Osamu says next to him.

Aran walked up next to her, asking if she was really okay. "Y-yup! Definitely fine!" Her tone now was high pitched and she was giggling nervously, glancing at the clock every so often. All of the others sent her a confused look, not used to her being so gittery.

"No- really, I'm-" Her phone dings, her eyes widening. Suna suddenly speaks up, "Someone's waiting for Y/n outside, do I tell them to leave or..."

Her eyes went the boy standing sheepishly in the corner, bowing in respect for intruding. "Ah! Takeru-san!" She looks at Kita for permission, he nods.

She quickly grabs Takeru's sleeve along with her bag and bolts out of the gym. All of their eyes on them as they left abruptly.

"Huh." Osamu crosses his arms, a pang of jealousy erupts from almost all of them.

"Come to think of it, Y/n-chan has been going home earlier than usual." Michinari notes. "It's the same guy that walked her home the other day." Ginjima huffs nonchalantly.

"What?! How come that scrub gets to walk her home? Isn't that our job?!" Atsumu grumpily stomps his feet.

"Calm down. Maybe she's just being walked home. Nothing else." Kita says to them. Suna scoffs and rolls his eyes, "They're probably dating."

And then all of a sudden, they start arguing about what's really going on with Y/n and this "Takeru" guy. But so far, the twins and Suna were the ones mostly fighting.

"Oh my god..." Ojiro mutters under his breath, the fight was getting ridiculous. Most of them liked her platonically except for a few, but all of them were equally concerned about who their precious manager was dating and what their intentions are.

"Alright! Stop this." Kita glares and rubs his temples from all of their arguing. They immediately stop, afraid of their captain.

"If you really want to settle this, you all can go try and ask her. Simple as that." The twins glanced at each other, as if they're telepathically communicating something.

They suddenly smirk and Suna gets it immediately.

"Whatever." Suna mutters.

"What are you two planning?" Kita glares at them.

-

"No, we are not doing this." Shinsuke bluntly says, following the two idiots who came up with this idea. "But you are coming with us, aren't you Kita-san?" Atsumu smirks, walking ahead to the path that Y/n usually took home.

Kita grimaced at the blonde but said nothing. Atsumu wasn't wrong when they said all of them were curious about this guy their manager was hanging out with, their captain was no exception.

Most of the team agreed to accompany the idiots after practice just to ease their minds on the issue. Hence why we're here now, near Y/n's house, hiding behind the bushes.

Her house was simple, nothing fancy. Her last name was engraved on the gate. They could only make out light coming from what they assumed was the kitchen area. All of them waited for a while but nothing happened. That is until Kita glanced on his wrist watch, an irkmark appeared on his forehead. "This is so pointless. Why did I ever-"

"They're coming out! Shush!" Atsumu pushes everyone to hide behind the bushes. "You're the one being so fuckin' noisy, Ratsumu!" Osamu whisper yells. "Shut up yo-"

"Guys?" Y/n stands in front of them confused with Takeru right beside her. "I should really go." The boy beside her says. She turns to Takeru, "Thank you for all the help, Takeru-san." He nods and smiles at her but laughs when he saw the entire volleyball looming over him.

"See ya, Y/n! And good luck!" Takeru waves and walks away. "Now-" She faces them again, "What are you all doing here?" An amused smile takes over her face.

"Atsumu's fault." They all chorused.

"You all followed!" He shouts. A laugh comes out of her mouth, effectively shutting them all up. "Come inside, I have something to show you all."

Unsure glances were thrown to each other until they eventually followed. "Sorry for the intrusion." Kita said first, taking his shoes off.

"Whoa! It's bigger inside! Nice house, Y/n-chan!" The blonde twin says, looking around aimlessly.

"For just how long were you all outside of my house?" Her hands settled on her hips. "Not that long." Osamu says, thwaking his brother's head. "And why...?"

"All of them are curious about this Takeru guy." Aran sighs, taking a seat on the couch.

"Is he your boyfriend? Huh? Is he?" Atsumu sends her a teasing smirk.

"Uh, no?" Y/n said confused. "Is that why you all spied on me?"

"Wait, your telling me that you two aren't dating?" Osamu asks skeptically, leaning on the head of the couch.

"No...why?"

"What about yesterday? You were so nervous about something then Takeru came. Ginjima says that he's been walking you home alot lately." Akagi asks curiously.

She laughed and shook her head. "I was nervous because the shop I needed for my project was closing soon."

"Huh? Then why does he get to walk you home earlier everyday now?" Atsumu furrowed his eyebrows.

"Takeru and me are project partners."

That would explain alot.

"Seriously? Whoops." Suna sucks in his breath, feeling internally embarrassed.

All of them took a moment and looked at each other with an "oh shit" reaction and suddenly erupted in laughter.

An idea popped from inside of her head. She quickly sprinted to her room leaving the boys confused as hell. She came back with a box full of stuff.

"Well! Since you're all here, might as well give these to you all too." She smiled and gave each one of them a neat pouch.

"What's this for?" Kita asks, opening his. His eyes widened as it was a hand made bracelet with his names on them, and an intricate design on each one.

"Cheesy, I know." A blush begins to form on her cheeks. "But I wanted to make everyone something...so this is what I came up with- it's okay if you don't like i-" she was cut off by all of them them gushing over the bracelets their manager made.

"Do...you like them?" They all enthusiastically nodded in unison, already putting them on. She could almost cry happy tears, she spent forever on making them to be perfect.

"I have to admit that Takeru-san was the one who helped me with this... He's a part of the art club, so yeah."

"Ah! So that's why you two walk home together."

Casual chit chat was thrown around and some were comparing who's bracelet were made with more love.

"Glad that was all cleared up." Kita sighs happily, watching them argue again. "Your team was really curious about my dating life, weren't they, Kita-san?"

He laughs with her, "And I'm assuming you came along too because you were curious too, weren't you, Kita-senpai?" Y/n teases the older boy, his face slightly turning pink.

"O-okay! Time to go! It's getting late." Shinsuke coughs and urges everyone to put on their shoes and leave.

"Ara?"

"Kita-san is blushing?" He sent Atsumu death glares which made him apologize over and over again.

"Thank you, Y/n-san!" They say in unison while she waves happily from her door.

They couldn't have asked for a better friend to call their manager.

[veiledsilver]

Top five moments you've felt like the universe was messing with you.

Oh boy everyone get ready this is a long list. In descending order, from mildly funny looking back on it to "oh god oh shit oh fuck":

5. Catfishing: College Edition

In 6th grade, I decided to apply to colleges early to see how they were like. I was scared that if they knew I was too young, they'd arrest me. So I created a gmail account as my persona, a white 12th grader named Emilie Alexander. Emilie was planning to go into nursing, dating a high school linebacker named Kyle Kenderson, and deathly allergic to bee stings. If she even came near a bee, she would die.

This part was of the utmost importance.

See, I was constantly paranoid that one day, the jig would be up- I might forget that my fake last name was Alexander. Or the college dean might come knocking at my door and tear up my home in his mad search for Emilie. If that happened I would fake her tragic death, presumably caused by one big fucking bee.

I secretly collected my information. What nearby states were the prettiest to visit. Which colleges were the safest and most affordable. How often they held courses that I liked. In my emails with colleges I tried to sound as mature and professional as possible.

Then, one day, a college member asked me what high school I was in, so they could check my records.

My blood froze.

It was time to bring out the bee.

In response to their question, I sent an email that was like this:

"Dear Mr. McLaughlin, I was a proud graduate of- ugh! Ah! Kyaaaa! Uwaa! W-w-what's this... huge goddamn bee doing here?! Eek, pardon my foul language! It's just that, as I told you earlier, being stung by a bee would kill me.... and now it's stung me thrice (three times)!!

What do I do?! I can't die... I've always wanted to attend your beautiful college...

But this is... the end...

Mr. McLaughlin...

*looks at you sadly*

Tell... my mother... I loved her...

*dies*"

He never responded, probably because he was rendered speechless, but I never touched that account again.

My private gmail for fun stuff like tumblr still has "Alexander" as a surname, though.

4. Wild and Authentic

Alright. Alright. So. My art teacher in middle school.

Right off the bat, they endeared themselves to the tumblr art kids- they proudly used they/them pronouns, dyed their hair vibrant colors, deeply encouraged OC creation, and was chill with any art style even if it was anime. Mx. Mason was very cool, except for one thing.

We had complete artistic freedom when it came to their assignments, EXCEPT FOR ONE THING.

Drumroll, please.

Take a deep breath if you must.

Ready?

...

Cats had to have extremely distinct whisker pores.

YES, they believed that modern depictions of cats were too streamlined. Too... idealized. As a cat owner themselves, they were convinced that society's vision of cats did not do their feral feline ancestors justice. In making their faces flawlessly smooth-furred, we were stripping the cat of its true nature.

I found this out the hard way, when I was drawing warrior cats fanart for class (it was of Firestar cuddled in the arms of an orange haired anime catgirl who was his reincarnation in my first ever comic series, Warriors Neko Desu! ♡ Heart Academy Dokidoki).

Mx. Mason came over to look at my magnum opus, and I expected them to have their socks knocked off at my artistic talent. They lifted up my drawing for all to see, and I smugly leaned back in my seat.

Only for them to launch into a passionate lecture about how, in neglecting to draw whisker pores on cats, I was DENYING THIS FICTIONAL CAT OF ITS WILD AUTHENTIC SELF.

My friends absolutely lost it when I told them this story, and there was a period of time when all our discord nicknames were wild and authentic too.

As for Firestar and his counterpart Hoshineko Orenji-chan, I never did give them wild authentic whisker holes, but that's to be expected of a kittypet, I guess.

3. Stan Jungkook Or Whatever

A couple years ago, my family and I flew to Seoul, South Korea, to visit our relatives and teach me more about my heritage. It was very nice! I got to visit shrines and festivals and palaces, and I was in awe that this was what my ancestors had once seen in their daily lives.

Then, when we went to the modern side of Korea, I realized just how much I didn't fit in.

It was clear that I didn't know how to act, or how to speak Korean, and I spent my days fumbling around and getting scammed multiple times by salesmen. But I clowned myself the most... during an interactive event with kpop stars.

They had this experimental event where holograms of the boys would sing onstage and dance in place of the actual idols. Before the show began, girls could stand in booths that scanned their appearances, and holograms of THEM could dance onstage with the hologram boys.

I didn't know this.

When Cousin Ae-cha told me to step inside one of the machines, I thought I'd be hilarious and stand backwards, so it would scan the back of me instead of my front. As I walked out, I saw other girls putting on their best makeup, cutest clothes, and most expensive accessories, and I slowly realized that I was in danger.

But the danger didn't come until halfway through the concert, where the boys looked eagerly off-stage and a holy staircase appeared and all the hologram girls descended from heaven. There were cherry blossoms. There were roses. There was me, among the crowd of beautiful airbrushed girls, walking backwards.

I felt the judgemental gazes of twenty girls and their mothers.

Each boy danced with a girl, who got a cute animated moment with special effects, and sang about how they found a dream girl to have a true love romance with. Finally, all the girls vanished except one, and it was me.

One of the boys didn't dance with any girls, and now he was all alone in the rain, feeling dejected that HE did not find his true love girl to have a dream romance with. Then the rain stopped, the sun came out, and I emerged. Still backwards.

He was thrilled and sang about how my face (that he didn't see) stole his heart, and now everyone in the audience was giggling, and he slowly brought me very close to kiss me... but because I was backwards, his nose was cutely nuzzling my hair.

The audience members- at least the adults- were now laughing their asses off. His lips met the back of my head, and together we vanished into the wind.

I'd say I couldn't show my face there ever again, but I never did show my face, so... hm...

2. Horrid Little Temptress

If I wasn't a minor, I'd need a drink before starting this story. Sadly, I cannot drown my sorrows- and neither should you after you hear this, because it's only fair.

Mrs. Appleby was my Spanish teacher in like, 9th grade. Even the wild and authentic art teacher thought she was insane. Appleby forced kids to brew tea for her and yelled at them when they didn't get it right, and I thought she had a chronic squint until I realised she just did that to mock me and my Asian eye-folds. She forced us to watch Dora the Explorer to "absorb knowledge." Everyone fucking hated Mrs. Appleby.

But the worst thing she ever did... was during the school festival.

See, whenever she's angry, she zooms right into kids' faces to scream at them. Her wrinkled flesh would blot out the goddamn sun and all you see are her bloodshot yellow eyeballs so victims just stayed rooted to the spot like cornered animals or something similar. This is important.

Because when she was sampling her own brownies (read: hoarding them so no one else could eat them), one parent foolishly decided to grab one and she thought it was a student and she grabbed his wrist so hard she could've nearly snapped it and... and... zoomed into his face.

Except she underestimated his height and kissed him by accident, but it was more like her mouth was sucking in his face like a vacuum.

His wife was shrieking like an ape. His kid, my classmate, saw his social life flash before his eyes.

In her defense, she did not mouth to mouth with him on purpose and afterwards she cried in the bathroom and when I foolishly followed her in to comfort her, because I am a teacher's pet through and through, she snatched the paper towels I got for her and wailed that she was a-

A-

HORRID LITTLE TEMPTRESS.

If I had decided to not be kind, I never would've heard that string of fucking words. But I did. And I paid for it dearly. The end.

1. Violence IS The Answer, Sometimes

Thomas, my dearly detested.

Back in sixth grade, I used to have a crush on him because he had the surfer boy look with nicely tanned skin and pale blond hair and the clearest aquamarine eyes I've ever seen. He also liked surfing and swimming. He seemed like the perfect little trophy waifu except for one absolute dealbreaker.

He and his parents were extremely conservative and so, when I told him I liked him, his response was basically "haha no you're a [slur] and would probably eat my dog."

I was horrified and ran away to cry. But then, by the next day, I decided I needed to punish him. Thomas walked in before class started and I was waiting for him with these hands. I kicked him so he doubled over, slammed his face into his chair's seat, and quickly clambered on top of him to SIT ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD. He started shaking and twitching and trying to pry me off, but eventually he went limp and stopped moving.

I thought he fell asleep, but Mohammed, another classmate who was bullied by Thomas, told me that Thomas might never wake up again (not that he was very sad about this. I didn't know until later, but Thomas said slurs at him too).

While I was sitting on the guy, he'd straight up passed out from the lack of oxygen.

Screaming and crying, I told our homeroom teacher that Thomas suddenly fainted, and she was the type of Caucasian that thought all little Asian kids were sweet and innocent, so it didn't even cross her mind that? It might've been me? Who sat on his head when she walked in?

He was sent home early that day. I had to go to a different school next year because Thomas's mom threatened legal action. The only reason I didn't get punished further was because my rich cousins out-Karen'd her and donated a huge amount of money to the school to keep them quiet.

Anyway, I never did anything that insane ever again, because something like that is enough for a lifetime. My cousins made it clear they would never back me up again. I was sure this whole event would be put behind me, too.

But last fall, during my first day of online learning... who did I see in my zoom meeting... BUT THOMAS! I had my mic and camera off, but the moment he saw my name, his face went pale. His soul would've left his body, but then it would've gone to hell, so it wisely decided to stay inside.

Still, out of shame and embarrassment, I never turned my camera on for the rest of the school year.

[anastasiawrites]

Scorpius Malfoy x reader: The transfer student

Requested by @elitsamladenova: Can you write Scorpius x reader where she is Slytherin, but she is from 🇧🇬 and she part veela.

...

2k words, haven’t reviewed it yet so-

> Masterlist <

...

You watched nervously as first-years were getting sorted into there houses.

All the students kept glancing and staring at you for many reasons.

Some of them were curious, whispering if you were a transfer student or maybe a quarter giant for being a foot taller then all the first years.

But then again, transfer students were really rare.

The others, which were mostly boys, kept looking at you, it was because of your beauty. You were part veela, it was natural for boys to be mesmerized by your looks. Most girls threw daggers at your direction for catching the attention of there crushes or lovers.

But you didn't care, you were used to that.

In which house will I be sorted in? You kept asking yourself.  

You read about each house, you didn't have a favorite but you were scared that the hat would sort you in a house that wouldn't really match your personality.

There was also another reason why you were nervous, Durmstrang, your previous school, was a lot smaller and had fewer students as they didn't accept muggle-borns and seeing so many people made you feel quite nervous.

You kept wondering if your magic skills were enough for Hogwarts.

What if they were more experienced?

You were too preoccupied with your 'what if' that you nearly missed the headmistress, Professor Mcgonal, clearing her throat to get the attention of all her students.

"Now that we sorted all our first years, I would like to introduce you to our new transfer student that came from Bulgaria for her fifth year. She used to attend Dumstrang, I hope you welcome her with open arms, Miss. y/n y/l/n, please come here"

She gestured for you to come and place the old hat on your head.

You placed it on you and you started hearing a voice.

"Ah miss y/l/n, it felt like yesterday when I sorted your grandpa...he was such a brave Gryffindor."

A smile found it self on your lips, you loved your grandpa, he was your hero since you were a kid.

"You possess many qualities dear, some good and some bad, Knowledge, creativity, you love the taste that adventure leaves on you...but you are resourceful and ambitious, you got a thirst for leadership. You are definitely a..."

You inhaled a deep breath. 

"Slytherin!"

Cheers roared from the Slytherin table, most of them from boys.

Other houses were quite disappointed to not have you. You were quite interesting, you came from Belgium, went to Dumstrang and you where beautiful...

As you set the hat into its original place and smiled at the headmistress, you walked towards the Slytherin table, noticing that your robe now matched the Slytherin's ones, green and silver.

You sat next to two boys, one of them had messy black hair and bright almond-shaped green eyes, the other one was pale, and had almost white-blond platinum hair, grey eyes, and a pointed face.

"Are you part veela?" you found yourself asking him.

Most veela have platinum hair and pale skin, like him but others don't, it all depends.

He looked at you, a little bit shocked that you talked to him and shook his head.

"What about you?" he asked, curiosity in his voice.

"Yes, my mother is a Veela, my father is a wizard, I am the first part Veela in the family" you explained, he nodded.

"Can you transform your head into a bird's one and get long scaly wings to burst from your shoulder? And can you throw flames?" a girl that sat in front of you asked, and you just realized that most students were more curious about you then the mouth-watering food that was served, as their eyes were on you.

"I can't transform into a bird, but I can conjure fire, not as much as a pure veela can."

The girl nodded, "My name is Charlotte Labott, nice to meet you, y/n"

You smiled sweetly at her but then it turned into a frown as she started talking badly about the boy that you just talking to and his friend.

"If I were you, I wouldn't talk with those two, rumors say that blondie is the son of the Dark Lord while Potter is a family shame for ending up in Slytherin while all the others are in Gryffindor." she snickered, and the Slytherins chuckled.

"Well, good thing that you aren't me, I thought that Slytherins were intelligent enough to not believe rumors and plus, no one is a family shame just because of which house you are."

The two boys smiled slightly, the weren't used to people who aren't family to defend them.

"I would rather befriend them than you, thank you, Charlotte."

She glared at you but then turned to her friend as they both started to talk about you.

"My name is Scorpius Malfoy and that is my friend Albus Potter." the blond boy said.

You smiled sheepishly at them, "I guess you already know who I am..."

They both nodded, "Thanks for defending us, y/n." said Albus softly.

You merely shrugged, "It was nothing"

"It meant a lot for us," said Scorpius.

You felt kind of bad that they had to endure bullying, you hated bullies.

"You seem familiar," you said to Albus who looked uncomfortable at your words.

"My father is Harry Potter, you must know him." he rolled his eyes.

You nodded.

"Yeah, I like his scar but he must hate it, it reminds him of painful memories after all..."

Albus nodded, a small look of sadness crossing his face.

"But scars like his can be a reminder on what you are fighting for or most likely who."

...

"Ey, Albus, Scorpius, wait for me!" said James as he approached both boys

"What do you want James?"

"So I saw you talking to y/n...maybe you could introduce us?" said James

Albus and Scorpius both slapped there face, dramatically.

James wasn't the first person to ask them that, he was, in fact, one of the thirty boys that came to talk to Albus and Scorpius in the last few hours about her.

Ever since you talked to them yesterday, everyone is either looking at them in envy or, glared at them.

"Hey, Scorpius, Albus" you grinned at them as you stood next to them, you just finished classes. You then noticed James, who quickly introduced himself.

"James. James Potter, Albus' older brother." he grinned

You nodded and smiled.

"What were you talking about, I think I heard my name?"

"Oh you wouldn't believe how many boys asked us to introduce them to you just because you talked to us yesterday." groaned Albus

"Not that we don't appreciate you talking to us," said Scorpius quickly when he saw your smile falling slightly "it's just boys being...boys."

"You two are boys too"

"Ah yeah, we do find you beautiful and all but I have that crush on that girl called Rose, Albus' cousin, and you aren't exactly Albus' type."

"But you are certainly my type." winked James, a lot of boys had said the same sentence to you many, many times.

"Well I am glad, like that, I would be able to have two friends who are males and won't have a crush on me" you clapped your hands like a child, "but it's a shame, you both are really cute and cute is my type."

Your attempt of jocking made both boys blush, their ears were scarlet while their cheeks were light pink.

"I am cute too!" said James 

"Ah, yes you are." you grinned at him and nodded.

"No, he isn't" both boys denied

James ignored them, "maybe you would like to go with me to the Hogsmeade visit?" he asked

You sighted, that sentence was heard so many times today...

"Well, we will see, James." you kissed his cheek and then turned towards Albus and Scorpius.

"How could you be so good at English?"

"Oh well, my grandfather went to Hogwarts, he was a Gryffindor, but when he met my grandmother, he went with her to Bulgaria. I spend a lot of time with my grandfather and always talk with him in English to get better at it."

"Oh okay."

"So how do you find Hogwarts?" asked Scorpius.

"Oh it's amazing, I love it! it's huge! Dumstrang had only four floors while I found out that there are 7 here! And that the defense against dark art is only defense here while we had to learn The Dark Art there, so I found the class easier then there but Potion is pretty hard here."

"So, you could have easily an O during the O.W.L.S in D.A.D.A"

"Well, I hope so." you grinned.

"Did you play quidditch in your old school?" asked James who was still pink because of the small kiss.

You frowned, looking down at the floor, "I suck at flying...brooms and me, aren't really best friends."

"Well I can help you, I am on the quidditch team"

"We can help you too," said Scorpius, pointing at Albus and himself.

"Euh...Should I choose or...?"

"No no, I am sure that Albus and Scorpius wouldn't mind me being the one to help you out, we can start today after classes on the quidditch field."

You smiled and gave him a hug in which, he blushed.

"Thank you guys, I gotta go and finish my homework, bye!"

"But I wanted to teach her." frowned Scorpius while looking at James when you were out of earshot.

...

"I think that I am going to fall" you panicked

"Relax, and take a deep breath, everything will be fine."

You did as he was told and, it did in fact work. 

You were mid-air with James, he was helping you with your flying skills.

"So, do you have any siblings?" he asked

"Yes, I have two sisters and brothers, what about you?"

"Well there is Albus and my younger sister, Lily"

"She has a nice name."

"Not as nice as yours." he flirted

You chuckled slightly while shaking your head, making you lose your balance and hang on your broom, your arms are the only thing supporting you for not falling 35 feet down (10.5 meters).

James was slightly panicking, he quickly went towards you and pulled you to sit on his broom, his arms around yours trying to calm both of you down.

"C-Can we get down..please?" you asked

He didn't respond, just tightened his arms around you, and started to slowly get down.

Once you hit the ground, you were still in Albus' arms. 

"I am sorry, y/n, I am a terrible trainer."

Despite your current condition, you chuckled and shook your head.

"No, no, I am just a bad flier, it's in my blood, neither of my parents knew how to fly either, it was a miracle that my sister got into the quidditch team during her years at Durmstrang."

Albus grinned, both your faces were close and he resisted the urge to kiss you, but him glancing at your lips every few seconds made you understand the situation so you cleared your throat and stepped out of his embrace.

"So I will see you tomorrow at the same hour?" he asked hopefully in which you nodded.

You then said goodbye and went to the dungeons, in the Slytherin common room where both Albus and Scorpius were sitting.

You noticed that both of them were doing their homework so you decided to help them as you finished yours.

"So how was your flying lesson with my brother?" asked Albus.

Scorpius stopped writing his potion Essai and listened eagerly at your response.

"It was good...well, I nearly fell but James was there to catch me.

"You were going to fall!?" 

"Well thankfully, I didn't."

"I wouldn't have let you fall..." muttered Scorpius under his breath.

...

"So are you going to tell her...?" asked Albus to his best friend.

"No, she wouldn't want to be with someone like me, she must like your brother."

"Oh common, you are way better than James, just try and ask y/n out, okay?"

"Okay..." 

...

"So, y/n, how has your day been?" asked Scorpius

"Exhausting. What about you?"

"It was good...I have a question," he said a little bit too quickly.

You grinned at him.

"Sure, what is it?"

"So...there is that Hogsmeade visit in a few weeks and I would like to know if you want like...go with me...But you must be busy and James must have already asked you out and...and...I know you said that it would be good to have two male friends who won't have a crush on you and all but..."

You quickly cut him off.

"Scorpius, take a deep breath. Yes, I would like to go on a date with you." you laughed, grinning as your cheeks started turning a faint shade of pink.

"A-And what about James?" he asked, surprised.

"Well, I already told James that I like somebody else...You. He was cool about it and we are still taking flying courses too."

"Oh, Okay, I am glad that you liked...me." he grinned.

You kissed his flaming cheeks and hugged then both of you walked hand in hand with him around Hogwarts.

........................

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

Should I make a part 2?

[the-soupiest-artist]

The Legend of Zelda: Lost and Found

Chapter 1: Searching for the Missing Girl

In celebration of the 2 year anniversary of Song of the Healers, my webcomic, I decided to start a new journey!! Please be warned this trail of stories will have MAJOR SPOILERS for the comic, so if you want to stay pure I’d advise you to stay away....or stay....There are some pretty nice art pieces scatter throughout  this fic. ANYWAYS! Thank you all so much for your love towards my OCs in SOH! I hope you enjoy this new tale!

~ The Healer Palace was in a crisis. The tailors and servants alike were searching the palace high and low for someone of the utmost importance. Most people were searching by themselves but some chose to travel in groups as they covered as much of the palace ground as possible. One of the palace tailors, the head tailor to be precise, met up with one of the other frantic servants. Her jewelry jingled as she halted to a stop. 

“Azalea! Have you found her yet?!?!” The head tailor asked.

The servant shook her head, her eyes plastered with worry, “No Sister Iris!”

Sister Iris, the head tailor let out a groan, “Oh for Akane’s sake! Of all the days to go missing!” 

“Keep searching!” Iris shouted, turning on her heel and running in the opposite direction. 

Azalea continued on her path, running through the crowded inner courtyard of The Healer Palace. The round marble structure shielded the inhabitants of the palace from the hot evening sun. 

Running through the crowd Azalea spotted the familiar uniform of someone who might be of more help. 

Sprinting towards him Azalea called out towards the young soldier. “Link! Link! Thank the gods I’ve found you!” 

The young guard turned around and pushed some of his blonde hair from his eyes. “Azalea? What’s wrong?!”

Azalea halted to stop her words spilling from her as she explained the crisis that she and the palace staff were in, “we can’t find Mara anywhere! We were going to do her final fitting for her outfit! The Choosing is in less than twenty-four hours and if the tailors don’t get her fitted soon they won’t have time to make any alterations!” 

Link sighed and encouraged the frantic servant to sit down and rest a bit. “Are you sure it’s not just Mara being her classic self? She is late for quite a few things.” 

“That’s what we thought! But when Camilla showed up before her we knew something was wrong! Please help us Link! If anyone knows where she is it’s you!” Azalea exclaimed her tired eyes begging the guard for help. 

Link looked out beyond and to the outer courtyard of the palace. The orange glow of dusk teasing the white city. He stood up with a sigh.

“I know where she is.” 

The turquoise blue of the bay clashed with the orange glow of the setting sun. The water started to darken as the light of day fled the land. 

Letting out a sigh Mara stood in front of the divine statue of the goddess, Din. Who watched over the city in line with her sister gods, Nayru, who was in the heart of the city, and Farrore who watched over the ships that docked in the bay. 

It was a beautiful sight, just how small the city looked from here, Mara could see the entire capital. She looked out over the sea, she could see beyond the great thorn wall that protected the fisherman’s ships from the outside world. The sea beyond was still barren. No ships, no people, not even whales graced the waters. It was empty, just as it had been for the last well...however long her people had been in hiding. 

She looked up at the face of the goddess Din. It was hard to spot her eyes because of how tall she was. Still, they looked out onto the city, towards her sisters. Her power unwavering, just like the flame that’s held in her hand once the night falls. 

If she could just climb it. Maybe she would be able to see what lies beyond the great thorn wall towards the land. 

Her train of thought was cut short as a familiar voice broke the peaceful silence Mara was enjoying. 

“Don’t start...you know how it ends…” 

At the sound of Link’s voice, Mara jumped, a bush along with several hosts of white flowers erupted from the earth and landed gracefully in uniform on Mara’s head.

She turned to him with a frown. “LINK! You scared me!” 

He laughed, “I’m aware! But I’m glad I stopped you from doing something stupid….again….” 

“Again? There had never been an ‘again.’ The last time I tried to scale The Golden Goddess Din’s statue was when I was six!” Mara huffed. “And I distinctly remember a plucky little boy chasing after me in that great climb!”

Link gave her a knowing look, “Yet you were the one who broke your arm.” 

“Yeah…” Mara groaned with a defeated sigh, “I still remember Aunt Amarylis’s glare.”

She shivered, “It haunts me to this day.” 

“Speaking of your Aunts.” Link folded his arms across his chest, “You know everyone is in a panic looking for you. Apparently, someone is missing a very important fitting.”

Mara kicked a stray rock, “I know…”

She climbed up on top of the platform of Din’s statue, joining the space where the marble folds of the goddess’ gown dropped over the sides of the great platform. “But then I would miss the sunset.”

“Mara, I know you’ve heard this speech a thousand times already, and I know I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but The Choosing is tomorrow. This is what your aunts have been preparing for your whole life. A lot is riding on you being the next Leader.” Link climbed up with her, his legs dangling over the edge as dusk kept its hold on the city. “You could be chosen by the Goddesses themselves one day. You’re the hope of our people’s future.”

Mara laid back onto the platform, “Augh….I know I know...I’m not sure I’m ready...I just feel like well….Like I’m meant for more than this…”

Link gave her a puzzling look, “what do you mean by that?” 

Mara sat up and looked out to the sea beyond the wall, “I’ve been feeling this call.” 

“Like a voice?”

“No!...Maybe? I don’t know but it’s like….a yearning in my heart for….more.” Mara sighed. “Like there’s more beyond the confines of the great thorn walls. I can feel it...It’s like something beyond it is….calling for me…” 

Link looked back, towards where the land wall separated the city from the land beyond. “You want to go out?”

She nodded, “I know we’re not supposed to, and no one has ever tried since….ah…”

“My mother.” Link muttered, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“Right….but I just keep feeling it in my blood..like I’m supposed to venture beyond it just….just once in my life...before I’m doomed to…” she gestured towards the city, “a life full of leading and social gatherings.” 

There was a long moment of silence between the two friends before Link got an idea. A wide smile appearing on his face.

“Hey Mara, remember at our Coming of Age Ceremony where I promised to take you on one more adventure before adulthood struck us for real?” Link’s eyes sparkled and Mara frowned.

“I believe you still owe me that trip.” Mara turned to him, her eyes softening. “Link, what are you planning?”

“I’m getting you over the wall.” Link stated standing up. 

“Wait...YOU ARE!?” Mara smiled and Link nodded.

“Should be easy enough, we’ve got the skills!” Link rested his hands on his hips, “and if we die we won’t have to face adulthood anymore.”

Mara laughed, “Let’s hope we don’t.”

“Well, throw a bead into the ocean.” Link laughed, “For luck.”

Mara jumped up and hugged him, “Thank you so much! Thank you, Link!”

Link hugged her back, “Ah it’s nothing for my best friend. However, you still gotta face your Aunt back at the palace.”

Mara pulled away and whistled for her horse Elias. The stallion whinnied in almost an annoyed tone. He was rudely interrupted from his peaceful grazing of mountain grasses and such. 

“Come on Elias we’re going back,” Mara shouted, running to him. The Horse huffed at her as she climbed the stallion’s back and rode off down the mountain trail. 

Mara indeed got a scolding from her Aunt Amaryllis, and the same speech about growing up and her being the next leader

Amaryllis was the second of Mara’s aunts, yet she was the leader of their people. Her icy stare was legendary and everyone feared her...in the best of ways.

Amaryllis’s younger sister, Camellia was the life of the party, she passed down her habit of always being late to things to her dearest niece, she belongs to no person but would rather float from person to person whenever the mood struck her. 

Lilija was the second eldest. She was a powerful Healer who focused much of her time on being a midwife and nursing injured Hylian’s back to health. 

Even though Amaryllis was their named leader, chosen by the Goddesses themselves, the sisters all considered themselves to be a council of rulers in their own rights. They were all still family and they all still loved the people their bloodline had been governing for thousands of years. They hoped Mara would take to heart the guidance and training the Aunts had given her...even in this unfortunate moment when Mara was getting an ear-full from the cold monotone voice of Leader Amaryllis. Mara looked back at Link as she was dragged away to fulfill the last-minute preparations that Mara had been working so hard to avoid. 

Link shook his head and returned to the guard room. The Head Guard, Atlas, smiling at him as he entered.

“Good work on finding Mara.” Atlas chuckled, setting his helmet on his armor stand. “It seems you two always know where to find each other.”

“You’re just now noticing this?” Link laughed, “Damn Atlas you must be getting old.”

Atlas smacked the boy across his back playfully. “This ‘old man’ is still able to beat you in a spar.” 

Link threw his hands up in surrender, “Aw come on Atlas! I was really close to beating you last time.” 

Atlas nodded, “no one likes a sore loser, boy.”

“Don’t you boy me!” Link grumbled, throwing his chest plate at him, with quick reflexes Atlas caught it and laughed. 

Hanging the armor on Link’s marked peg the rivalry dwindled.

“Are you looking forward to The Choosing tomorrow?” Atlas asked, his eyes gentle. 

“Yeah of course.” Link smiled, “I get to see my best friend take on what she’s been training for.” 

“Is Mara nervous at all?” Atlas asked

“Well, it’s Mara. She’s nervous about a lot of things but this….” Link let out a long sigh as he finally managed to free the last part of his uniform from his tired body. “I think she’s just scared of not doing a good job if and when The Goddesses chose her.”

The Head Guard nodded, “all reasonable fears to have. She’ll be a fine Leader.”

“She will be. Once she learns to be on time for things.” Link chuckled and Atlas laughed with him. 

“I’ll stop keeping you.” Atlas waved as he headed towards the exit. “Your father’s probably expecting you, and you need rest. It’s a big day for us Healers.” 

“And for us Hylians.” Link remarked setting his satchel over his head. Atlas nodded in agreement as his dark brown dreadlocks disappeared down the hall. 

The nightlife of the Healer capital filled the streets as the gondoliers were tying up their boats for the night. Some counted their coins and others playing music softly for the people of the town.

Link arrived at his father’s bakery. The windows were closed and dark. The day was done and Learen was probably inside making him a delicious meal. He opened the heavy wooden door and called out to his father.

“Papa! I’m home!”

Learen’s head appeared from the kitchen, his hands scratching his blonde scruff, white from flour and age. “Ah! There he is my brave warrior!” 

Learen welcomes his son into his arms, patting his back each with wide smiles on their faces. 

“So did you save the world from ultimate destruction today?” Learen joked, pulling the lids off of the dinner he had made. 

“If you call saving Mara from the icy scolding of Leader Amaryllis saving the world.” Link sat down at the table. “Then yes, I absolutely saved the world from total annihilation.” 

Learen shivered serving some of the hearty stew to his son. “Gods Leader Amaryllis. That woman even scares me half to death with the mere flash of her eyes.” 

“You got that right Papa.” Link snickered, slicing himself a large portion of bread. 

“The Choosing is tomorrow.” Learen sighed, “the hopeful new leader of our people will be presented to the public.”

Link nodded, “I wish Mama were here to see it.” 

There were a few moments of silence between the father and his son as memories of one loved and lost filled their minds. 

“She’d be so proud of Mara.” Link sighed. 

Learen rested his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I know she would’ve been.” 

The two started to eat and Link entertained his father with stories from the palace. How he chased a stray cat from the kitchens, saved a young girl’s guardian familiar from drowning, and how he got to enjoy the sunset with Mara before returning her home. Shortly after dinner and a lovely little dessert. Laren and Link said their goodnights and went to bed. Both of them sharing the same feelings with the rest of the city. All of the city hardly slept, for the excitement of tomorrow’s gathering was near and the people were so looking forward to meeting their hopefully new leader. 

The following morning was met with the bells from the harbor ringing. Signaling that today was a day of celebration. Everyone filled the streets with much dancing and singing as they waited for the command to meet at the palace. So their chosen leader could be anointed in the eyes of her people. Today was The Choosing and the entire capital expressed their joy. 

Mara exited the chamber, her Auntie Camellia greeting her.

“Why the long face flower?” She asked with kind eyes.

Mara let out a deep sigh before answering her aunt, “I just got done bathing in olive oil and rosemary. I know it’s ceremonial and supposed to feel relaxing...but I just feel like a batch of focaccia bread ready to be thrown into the fiery depths of an oven.

Camellia hugged her niece, “Oh Lily complained about that too...it’s just nerves Mara”

Mara melted into her aunt’s embrace.

“The worst of it is almost over, flower. Then it’s just partying until the sun rises.” Camellia smiles and twirled Mara around. Mara laughing before linking her arm in her aunts as she was led to her room, Camellia shooed the rest of the servants out of her niece’s chambers. Mara looked at her aunt puzzlingly, but before she could speak Camellia answered for her. “This is a special moment for me personally. I designed every part of your garb for this day ever since your mother brought you to us. The design changed over time as you grew older and you changed.”

Helping Mara into the pure white dress, Camellia continued to explain, “I was going to ask Lily if I could help her dress you for The Choosing, but, now knowing that she won’t be here for it….I feel almost guilty.”  Picking up the gold and navy waist scarf, the gold metal coins jingled as Camellia fastened it around Mara’s waist, “she’s so proud of you. You know that I know that.”   Mara nodded and kept her head down, the anxiety of what was to come was getting to her, “ do you think I’ll be ready? If the Goddesses choose me?” 

Her Aunt rose back up onto her feet, cupping her niece’s face gently. “I know you will be. You will be the finest ruler our people have ever seen.” Camellia’s compassion-filled eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief, “you’ll be more kind and compassionate than Amaryllis that is for sure.”  The two softly laughed, lightening the mood of the serious conversation. 

“Now remember,” Camellia smiled as she went back to dressing Mara up for the ceremony. “When you enter the hall, don’t look at the people, stand tall, and pretend you know what you’re doing.” 

Mara scoffed, “you know you’re sounding more like Aunt Amaryllis the more this conversation carries on?” 

Camellia smacked her niece’s backside jokingly, “oi! This ceremony, believe it or not, is the only time ‘Serious Camellia’ is awakened. Once Akane’s Token hangs ‘round your neck, your Auntie will be dancing and drinking with the rest of our people.” She pinched Mara’s nose and shook her head gently the two bursting out into laughter.  

Camellia took her niece’s hand, twirling her around her room, the two of them singing a loud Healer tune. They both sounded like drunken fools, spinning and wobbling around the room as the two grew dizzy. The Aunt and her niece collapsing on Mara’s bed in a heap of laughter.

Once the laughter had died down, Camellia rolled over and kissed Mara’s cheek. 

“Flower you are so loved. I love you so very much Mara.” Mara hugged her aunt, “I love you too Auntie Camellia.” The two sat up and Camellia kissed Mara’s forehead, “you are going to make a wonderful leader. Our people are lucky to have you.” 

Mara smiled bright the two of them hugging tightly, “Come.” Camelia sighed, “it’s time. Remember, pick a spot on the back wall. Don’t look at the people and you won’t feel sick, or like running away.” “Thanks, Auntie Camelia,” Mara muttered

“Of course Flower.” Auntie Camelia sighed giving Mara one last peck on the forehead, for luck. 

~~~~~~~~

This fic couldn’t have happened without the wonderful help and guidance of @ridersoftheapocalypse Truly this story would’ve never happened without the beautiful work you and @s-kinnaly have made! Your universe is a huge inspiration to me and thank you so much for letting me take part in it!! It’s an honor!! Of course none of this would’ve ever happened without @figmentforms their comic, ATOTR was the reason I even started scripting SOH in the first place! And I honor their work by doing my own comic in greyscale as well! And it’s because of that comic I even fell in love with greyscale in the first place!!

All of you are huge inspirations to me! Thank you for your creations, and please keep making them!! They never fail to give me the truest of feels!!

There’s more to come from this story!! And I am excited for ALL of it!!

🌸Next Chapter🌸

[rosesgonerogue]

Just a Friend

Daminette December Day 1

It wasn’t often that Damian had to deal with the Agreste child, but with both their fathers being such big names, it was inevitable. Agreste was preferable to the Bourgeois brat, but he still reeked of a sheltered life. And now Damian was going to have to put up with him for the next several days while Father discussed business with the elder Agreste. 

“Remind me why Drake couldn’t come instead?” Damian demanded once again. 

“You know the reason,” Bruce sighed. “I was specifically asked to come with one of my sons. But if I come, Tim had to stay behind to keep the company running.” 

“Grayson?”

“He’s standing in as Batman.” 

“Why couldn’t Todd do that? Or come here?” 

Bruce fixed him with a flat stare. “We would either have a slew of corpses, or an international incident on our hands.” 

Damian growled, knowing that his father was right. That didn’t mean that he liked this cursed city. 

They came to the Agreste mansion all too soon, and Damian already dreaded the awkward conversations that awaited. It had been a few years since he’d been forced to associate with the boy, and Damian could only hope he was somehow less sheltered.

The mansion was more ostentatious than ever. It had a way of looming over people that felt cold. He never would have admitted it, but he almost wished his brothers were here to cause chaos and bring some life into the dead house.

To complete the aura, the door was opened by Agreste’s stoic assistant, the one with glasses and a harsh bun. Gabriel was standing staunchly inside with Adrien at his side, green eyes dull.

“Thank you for travelling all this way, Bruce,” Gabriel said in perfect English. “We welcome you and your son.”

“It was our pleasure,” Bruce said with a cordial smile. “Damian was curious why you wanted one of my sons to come, though.”

“We’ve found a rather interesting young designer, and if things work out in our deals, we were hoping your son might consider modelling her designs, potentially taking the brand over to America.”

Translation: Gabriel thought his son was too good for this, so Damian was stuck modelling for an amateur.

Bruce’s smile tightened ever so slightly, knowing that this would be a hard sell to Damian. “We’ll see how these negotiations go first.”

“Very well. Adrien, why don’t you entertain young Damian in your room?”

Damian bristled at being dismissed in such a manner, but before he could do anything, Adrien actually spoke up.

“Actually, Father, I was wondering if I could show Damian around Paris, maybe introduce him to a friend or two?”

Wow, the boy had a backbone now, as well as friends. Interesting. His friends were probably just as rich and sheltered as Agreste, but maybe they would distract one another until they forgot about Damian entirely. One could hope, anyway.

At least Agreste had a seemingly competent bodyguard, Damian noted as he followed the blond out to the shiny car. The whole way Adrian yammered on about his friends, but in particular some girl named Marinette. With all the praise he was giving her, it was a wonder that this Marinette hadn’t cured cancer yet.

Adrien paused in his praises of her long enough that, despite himself, Damian found himself asking, “Is this Marinette your girlfriend? You certainly have plenty to say about her.”

The boy laughed. “Oh no, Marinette if just a friend, my first friend, really. You’ll love her, just wait.”

“Tt.” Damian couldn’t help the noise of disbelief as he gazed out the car window. He was expecting and dreading being taken to some tourist attraction, but it appeared that they had arrived at… a bakery?

“Marinette is actually the designer you might be working with. She’s amazing, and this is her family’s bakery.”

Ah, Agreste was likely trying to sell the virtues of the girl so Damian would look more kindly on whatever shoddy designs the girl had come up with. It was a more underhanded tactic than he thought Agreste capable of, and kind of impressive.

The bakery was small, but clearly good quality. Damian had to admit that the food appeared to be comparable with Pennyworth’s cooking. At the counter, they were greeted by a petite Asian woman.

“Oh, Adrien, it’s nice to see you again. Are you and your friend here to see Marinette? She warned us you two might be coming. She’s in her room, you know the way up.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Cheng. We’ll head up there now,” Adrien said, leading Damien deeper into the bakery. Before they made it to the hallway, however, they were intercepted by a hulking bear of a man.

Damian tensed -- he was even carrying a weapon, one of those wooden paddle things that were used to get things out of traditional ovens. This man would be formidable because of his size alone, but--

“It’s nice to see more of Marinette’s friends here. Take this up with you,” he said, setting the paddle down to hand Adrien an entire quiche. “You boys are welcome to have some as well, but make sure Marinette eats a slice. She got a commission, and we’re not sure when she last ate or slept.”

Damian sighed as he accepted a pile of plates and forks. So, she was obsessive like Time as well. This girl already sounded exhausting, but breakfast had been a while ago, and the quiche smelled amazing.

Agreste led them through the bakery and up the stairs as Damian attempted to mentally reconcile what could have resulted in the union of the slight Asian woman and the hulking baker. What he expected, however, was not at all what he got.

“We’re here with food, Marinette,” Adrien called as he stepped into the room.

“I’ll eat in a minute, Mom, I just need to finish this applique,” the girl mumbled. She wasn’t visible yet, hidden behind a massive ball gown.

“Marinette, you have a guest,” Adrien said gently.

“Yes, papa, I’m getting plenty of sleep,” she mumbled.

The dress the girl was working on was quite possibly the most intricate thing Damian had ever seen. The dress appeared to be scarlet silk, the skirt resting on layer upon layer of tulle and crinoline, The body of the dress was patterned with hand-appliqued black lace. Normally the color combination would have been garish, but it was vaguely reminiscent of a ladybug, and definitely worthy of the red carpet.

Suddenly Damian was filled with the need to know more about this girl. He heard her humming to herself before making a noise of satisfaction. “There, I’m officially done, now what did you--”

The girl cut off when she peeked from around the gown, eyes wide as she squeaked, “Adrien, what are you doing here? And who is that?”

He had never had such an absurdly intense reaction before to merely seeing someone’s face and hearing their voice. Her eyes were wide in shock, and they were the bluest eyes Damian had ever seen, complimenting her blue-black hair that looked unbelievably soft. As he contemplated taking that hair out of its pigtails and -- holy infatuation, Batman, Damian was beginning to sound like Grayson. Besides, this girl looked more like a Wayne than Damian himself did.

“Marinette, meet Damian Wayne, one of your potential models,” Adrien said in English, most likely for Damian’s benefit.

“That was today!” the girl exclaimed, in adorably accented English as she scrambled to get off of the ground where she had been kneeling to finish the dress. “I’m so sorry, I got so wrapped up in this commission and lost track of time. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, it’s nice to meet you, Damian.” She finally emerged from behind the dress and held out a hand. It was warm and unexpectedly calloused, but tiny, just like her. She was almost pixie-like, obviously taking more after her mother  than her father.

“It’s a pleasure,” Damian said, shaking her hand longer than was strictly necessary. “This dress is truly a work of art.”

“Oh, you speak French!” Marinette said delightedly. Honestly, he hadn’t noticed he’d switched languages. “My English is okay, but your French sounds amazing!”

“Well clearly your sewing ability surpasses almost anything I’ve ever seen before. Now I can’t wait to see what your fashion line has to offer.” Why was he saying this? Why was Damian smiling in an imitation of Grayson whenever he was near a female?

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Marinette said, ducking her head to hide her slight blush. “But if you’re going to be my model then I’m going to have to tailor a lot of things to you, so you’re going to have to put up with me for a while.”

“I think I can handle that.”

As Marinette stammered a reply, Adrien awkwardly stood to the side, still holding the quiche. Had… Had Marinette forgotten him? Marinette never forgot him! He was always oddly the center of attention when Marinette was around because they were such good friends! Adrien felt slightly unsettled. He had hoped that Marinette would soften Damian, but he didn’t expect him to smile at her like that.

Throughout the rest of their stay in Paris, Damian found any and every excuse to spend any moment with Marinette. Bruce was curious and slightly suspicious about this turn of events. He expected this kind of thing from Dick, but it was entirely baffling from Damian.

One night when Damian had been out particularly late with Marinette, Bruce decided to wait up. He heard the door opening followed by Damian murmuring lowly in French, and… was that a chuckle? Yes, his son was softly laughing into his phone. The slight smile dropped off of the boy’s face when he met Bruce’s eyes and he murmured, “I’ll talk to you later, Angel.”

Raising an eyebrow, Bruce asked, “Angel?”

He regretted the way Damian instantly snapped into his rigid, emotionless persona. “Is something wrong, Father?”

Bruce was quick to say, “You’re not in trouble, Damian. I’m just worried, you’ve never been in a relationship before, and this all seems--”

“You’re mistaken, Father,” Damian interrupted. “Marinette and I are just friends.”

Bruce nodded and was going to leave the subject there before a small smirk crawled across the boy’s face. “For now, at least.”

Hi! I’m kind of new to this community, but you can call me Rose! Or Rogue, whichever you prefer! I found this pairing just a while ago, and when I saw the prompts for Daminette December, I got so freaking excited! I don’t do a lot of romance writing, so this is kind of an experiment. I want to get better at it, so please, let me know how I’m doing! Unfortunately, not all of the prompts will be this long, I’ve got finals coming up. I’ll try to keep up posting daily, though! 

Taglist: 

@ozmav @daminette-december2019 @maribat-archive