#also started to sexualize him in those jeans and realized it was time to stop lmfao

[wraithdance]

Couldn’t stop thinking about mafia!gaz last night and then I remembered @ghouljams mafia au and mafia!simon whose passion is making sandwiches

(It is indeed blood on his apron :’0 )

[sillyhahasilly]

caldre nsfw headcanons under cut.

(plz don't heavily interact if ur like under 16, ik I can't control it but yk.)

their first was initiated by cal and reciprocated by andre.

it happened well after they started planning zd, well after they realized how alike they are. by then they had already bared their truest self out to eachother. all their violent and fucked up desires, so why not keep going?

they were having one of those conversations, talking about their mental health and desires to die and cause harm and getting very emotionally intimate. I think andre said some shit like, I've never been this real with someone before. you're are the only person who knows me. really knows me. so, cal js fucking kisses him. a deep and incredibly desperate kiss, like he was starving. andre backs out and he js stares, wide eyed, at cal. and cal is so scared. that is the first time andre saw cal look scared.

andre kisses him back and they don't stop. cal climbs on top of andre, swinging his leg over him in an attempt to get closer. he's sitting on andres lap and both of their hands are all over eachother. both of them get hard embrassingly fast, and one of them accidently grinds on the other. they both stopped when that happened, shocked. andre would start to say how this isn't right or he isn't gay, so cal would reply, do you want to stop? obv, andre says no. so then cal would be like, great, fuck it. and then they'd be back all over eachother, grinding and making out. bc of how worked up cal was he'd come first, but not by much. afterwards, they were both surprisingly giddy. but they did need to awkwardly wash some jeans.

tdlr: their first time they both grinding on eachother and came in their own pants. js two desperate, hormonal, teen boys.

☆

they have a fucking codename for having sex. smth stupid, but sweet. I got this from a fic, and in it they called it "syncing". I feel like andre def started calling it that, cuz he's the one into military shit. they use it so they don't need to say it, and they can kinda distance themselves from what they are doing bc of how shamed gay sex was. internalized homophobia and all that. I feel like they would also be so afraid of zd being blamed on their sexuality so so much, so this small thing would add js another layer of protection.

this ain't nsfw really, but it's like they live a secret life with eachother. they act differently together around others then they do in private, like a code switch. they are always hiding in daylight out of shame.

☆

cals sex drive is either 1 or a 100. when he wants it, he wants it. he can get so desperate. once he greeted andre in the school hallway by whispering, "youre going to fuck me tonight." and then js acted like he didn't say anything bad.

when andres the one who wants it bad, he gets whiny. he will literally beg cal to let him be inside him, he'll say shit like "I'll be quick, I'll make you feel so good." after, he'll lowkey pretend that he didn't js beg like a dog. cal teases him for it. sometimes he'll purposefully work him up to that point.

(also if it ain't obv, andre tops and cal bottoms. BUT I can see them switching like once, but I feel like andre wouldn't like how gay it would make him feel.)

☆

they take anger and frustration from everything out on eachother during sex. andre got thrown into a locker and called a fag?? he will fuck cal hard and ruthless into the mattress to be in primal control of smth. cal is mad at humanity cause he spent another function quiet and resevred in the corner? he pushes andre around and leaves bruises everywhere.

they will talk abt violent fantasies of things they want to do to enemies and humanity during sex. yeah.

they have def talked abt how great zd is gonna feel and how they will be like gods while fucking.

☆

cal likes to be hurt during sex. bruises, bites, he loves getting bitten. he enjoys purposefully not doing enough prep so it hurts for a little bit.

andre likes to bite and bruise. match made in heaven. he does also enjoy pain, but not as much as cal.

tw sh!!! there has been times when andre will purposefully irritate cals healing scars. it's up to u to decide if they got freaky enough to cut eachother during sex.

☆

right after, andre gets really affectionate compared to how he normally is. he cuddles and hugs cal close to his body and does shit that he'll call gross and cringe normally like kiss him on the check.

sometimes tho, cal will get weirdly sad and quiet after sex. andre will try his best to talk to him abt it, (which isn't vv good) but they never really do. it's his depression and the drastic fall from pleasure to normal, kinda like the freaky version of feeling sad after hanging out w a friend for a long time.

☆

and ermmm. that's it. I did not mean for this to be this long but I guess reading gay porn fics way to young payed off <3

[thriftedtchotchkes]

solo round

pairing: josh futturman x f!reader

summary: josh is sick of meaningless charging, but instead of asking out the pretty, new game store cashier, he decides to take matters into his own hands. again.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, set post-dick swap, m!masturbation, size kink, fantasizing, sexual frustration, unprotected piv, excessive lube

word count: 1.5k

(for our tiny fandom <3 and @tinycozycomfort)

Seriously, are they doing this shit on purpose? This is the third time today he's overheard them going at it, and Josh swears they're getting louder every time.

He gets that things are stressful right now—he's stressed as fuck, too—but if he has to listen to Tiger and Wolf charging up one more time, he thinks he's going to scream. It's bad enough that they're staying in the room next to his, but they also have no concept of privacy. Or shame. Half the time, they start up right in front of him.

They genuinely just don't give a shit. And the last time he yelled at them to keep it down, he got teased mercilessly for days. Sounds like someone needs to get laid, they'd said. Or you can join us as long as you keep your rathole to yourself.

Assholes. He'd rather die of blue balls than fuck either of them at this point. But they're not wrong. It's been a long time since he was with anyone, way longer than he'll ever admit, and he's starting to lose it. He's also pretty sure he's getting carpal tunnel in his right wrist, and his dick feels like it might actually fall off if he jerks off again.

It only makes things worse anyway because all he can think about is you. The new girl who just started working at the game store—totally unattainable and way out of his league. Still doesn't stop him from imagining how nice your boobs would feel in his hands or how wet and tight you'd feel around him, moaning his name loud enough to drown out his shitty teammates—

Fuck it. If his dick falls off, maybe he'll get lucky and that'll solve his problem. He yanks his jeans down to his ankles before he can talk himself out of it, and his toes practically curl the second his fingers wrap around his dick.

The first stroke almost hurts, but he's so desperate for relief, he ignores it. Instead, he plays out his favorite scenario in his head, the one where you're riding him on the same gaming chair he's sitting in.

His hands are on your waist, guiding you up and down his cock while your tits bounce in his face, and they're as perfect in his mind as they are in real life. He leans forward to latch onto a nipple and teases it between his teeth until he can feel you clenching around him.

Fuck, that's good. You're so fucking wet, and...and his hand is way too dry for this right now. He lets out a frustrated sigh before getting up and waddling over to his bedside table, rifling through the drawers for the ancient bottle of lube he knows is hiding in there somewhere.

He'll take literally anything, honestly—those random packets he got from work that are technically for the possums, that weird scented lotion his mom gave him—but then his fingers close around the sticky container he's looking for, and he's back in his chair so fast, he's surprised he doesn't tip it over. Hastily, he squeezes way too much lube into his palm and starts pumping himself again.

Now, where was he? Oh right—you're so fucking wet. He's sliding in and out of you easily, even though you're so tight, it almost feels like you're strangling him. Especially with his new dick.

At first, he was worried it might be too big, but you're a fucking champ. You take it slow, guiding him to play with your pussy until you're less tense, and now he's buried to the hilt and fighting not to buck too hard.

He can see how much he's stretching you out and feels a little bad that you're still struggling to adjust—and that he's having trouble focusing on anything else but the way he looks inside you. But as you purposely clench around him, he realizes you like the pain. A lot.

God, you're hot.

And he's starting to sweat big time. His shirt clings to him uncomfortably in about six different places, but he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block it out with dirtier thoughts of you. Just a little bit more—he'll be close soon, he knows it.

Tightening his grip, he lengthens his strokes to match what he imagines your pussy would feel like in this moment and pretends it's you clenching around him and not just his aching right hand.

That you're swiveling your hips to meet his thrusts, teasingly biting your lip when he takes that as the go-ahead to move a little faster. Fuck, he wants to kiss you so badly. And now is probably his only chance, real or imaginary.

He lurches forward and immediately sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, swallowing every moan he fucks out of you. His hands roam every inch of bare skin he can reach, squeezing your tits together so he can thumb over your hardened nipples and feel your plush skin spilling between his fingers.

The longer he caresses and grabs and tugs, the louder you get, and he's loving every second of it. Finally, it's his turn to bother everyone else in the house—except he doesn't realize that outside of his head, he's already bothering everyone, a whimpering mess all alone in his bedroom.

But he's too focused on his impending release to notice. You're gripping him so tight and starting to grind into his pelvis, chasing your own high, and he can feel you fluttering dangerously around him. He wants you to cum before he does, but god, he's so deep and so fucking close, it's making him dizzy.

Back in the real world, he focuses closer to the base, making a huge mess of lube and precum on his lap as he tries to stave off his orgasm and drive you closer to yours.

He wraps his arms around your middle and starts to piston into you, and when you gasp out his name, he knows he found the spot he was looking for. Losing his grip on reality entirely, he coaxes you through it out loud like you're actually there, riding him like your life depends on it.

"You're doing so good, almost there," he says encouragingly, gazing up at you in awe and disbelief. You're so pretty like this, and the way you moan his name every time he rams into that spot—he needs you to say it louder.

"That's it, baby. Say my name, let me hear it."

And you're so good, you do exactly what he tells you to. He shifts his hands down to your ass to hold you in place so he can grind directly into where you want him. He's so fucking deep, he's positive he has to be in your stomach. And just the thought of it makes his balls draw up so tight, he sees stars.

"Shit, I'm not gonna last much longer."

Cum, Joshy. Your walls spasm around him violently, and that's all it takes to finally tip him over the edge.

"Jesus fucking christ—oh my god. Fully charged in 3...2...," he barely finishes the countdown before he's cumming hard into his fist—no, filling you up and letting you milk him for all he's worth.

He vaguely feels the splatter staining his t-shirt, and a few spurts are so strong, they reach up to his chin. He gasps his way through it, bucking so hard that the wheels on his chair unlock and it rolls backward until it slams into his bed.

Abruptly, Josh is thrown back into the present. And that really sucks.

What the actual fuck just happened? Obviously, he remembers—he was there—but seriously. What the fuck. His hand is covered in cum, his jeans are covered in cum, his shirt is...god, it's on his face, too. He even did the fucking countdown.

Alright, fine. Maybe they're right. Maybe he does need to get a girlfriend. He's tenser than he was when he started, so clearly this isn't working.

And as much as he could probably use it, he still refuses to fuck Tiger or Wolf. The sex is good, sure, but it's not worth his pride. Plus, they were mean to him and he's still not over it.

They're also not you.

He sighs heavily and sinks into his chair, resisting the urge to scrub at his cheek in frustration and smear even more cum on his face. Tomorrow, he resolves. Tomorrow, he's walking into the game store and asking you out.

So, he does. And you say yes.

thanks for reading!

header by @saradika-graphics

[gabessquishytum]

Can I please propose a Bathing Addendum to the Amnesia AU?!

Because 1389 Hob definitely needs a little help re-learning the 21st century protocols with regard to bathing/hygiene. And it's a delicate matter because it's not like Dream cares one bit or wants to make Hob feel bad about his natural grimy state. But Hob DID love all those fun, scented, pampering products, (his bathroom looked like an Influencer's free sample stash exploded all over it), even this version of Hob seems delighted by the comforts of the modern world, and not having fleas is SO great, so staying neat and clean could definitely be an important part of the Care and Management of the Amnesiac Hob.

(Though, the one thing he IS a bit weirded out about is how short his hair is. He keeps running his hands through it nervously & wondering how he/they/who cut it that short without slicing his ears with the rusty shears?! It's ok, though, Dream assures him they don't have to keep it trimmed. He shows Hob how to comb it back into a stubby little bun and fix it with these fucking awesome springy circle things.)

Anyway. The first time Dream gingerly shows him the shower and suggests some form of washing, he's surprised that Hob totally goes with it, easy as anything, & immediately just… strips off and even prompts Dream to join him. And Dream belatedly remembers that this kind of thing was more common where/when Hob was from, and he probably washed in the river with his fellow soldiers all the time.

So Dream. Just. Does it. Follows suit. Stripping off his tee and peeling off those tight jeans, all the while STERNLY ORDERING HIMSELF to NOT MAKE IT SEXUAL. No, no, no. It's just a couple of guys washing together.

(He does not, in this moment, realize that it might be useful to remind Hob of the current conventions surrounding adult nudity. Whole parts of his vast mind have just sort of shorted out.)

Dream struggles to keep his physical body under control so as to conceal his own interest as they step in and Hob delights in the warm, indoor rain. But Dream's body is a manifestation of his own will, and right now his own will is having EXTREME DIFFICULTY in shutting the fuck up.

But he can try. He doesn't want to make Hob uncomfortable.

Hob, however, already seems to be having some trouble. See, as tiny a shred of control as Dream has over his own Endless form, Hob is just human and cannot even hope for that much. And his interest is soon VERY clear. He knows not everyone would be opposed to having some extra fun in this perfectly normal communal bathing scenario — he has, after all, frequently kept some of his fellows warm on those cold, muddy nights on campaign if they were amenable. But he doesn't want to presume and scare the pretty lord away.

So Hob is painfully turned on and starting to hate this indoor rain, which is not at all like a river where you could just sneak into slightly deeper water and hope anyone who wasn't interested just politely chose not to notice. He's so self conscious and just trying not to look too much at the perfect form next to him and to hide his own interest — very poorly — with a soapy loofah.

But Dream, who can clearly see what is happening in the sudden spike of daydreams and also right in front of him in the shower, is so sweet about it. And he takes the loofa and gently washes Hob and soothes him and tells him there's nothing to worry about.

And afterward, they fall into the soft bed, which is definitely way more comfortable than a quick fuck in the mud on campaign, and Hob thinks he might really like this modern bathing strategy after all.

Oh absolutely!!! Here's the original amnesia au where Hob doesn't remember the last 600+ years.

I can't stop thinking about the scene in the 1993 Much Ado About Nothing film where all the dudes immediately get naked and wash in a stream(?) together while inside the house all the ladies are in the renaissance equivalent of a shower all together. The casual intimacy of washing together/washing each other is deadass so beautiful to watch.

So yeah, Hob inviting Dream into the shower with him? Very real, very lovely, and feels like an expression of how much Hob trusts Dream. It's all super weird for Hob, but even though he can't remember shit, he just has this feeling that Dream will be good to him. In fact, he has this strange, warm feeling like Dream means something really important to him. And then there's the plain fact that Dream is gorgeous and even in 1389, Hob had a weakness for pretty men.

Dream knows that he should just keep this all platonic and straightforward, but Hob is just adorable. Confused, a little clumsy, so fucking cute with his teeny tiny man bun. Dream is puddle on the floor as he lets Hob’s daydreams and his own feelings combine. So he gives in. He washes Hob’s back, and dries him of in a big fluffy towel that Hob definitely stole from a hotel, and leads him to rediscover the joys of memory foam.

Hob has lost 99% of his memories relating to sex, so Dream doesn't get to experience Hob at his best, necessarily - but maybe because of that, it's actually more special? Hob is vulnerable, a little silly, and very enthusiastic. He wants to explore and learn new things. He's absolutely fascinated and overjoyed by the concept of lube. No spit or oil needed! He can get fucked and it doesn't hurt (much)! Weirdly it also smells like strawberries!

And Hob is mainly just so excited about Dream himself. His gentle, generous and beautiful stranger! He's so in love. Doesn't matter how many memories he has.

[shinestarhwaa]

DESIRE / P.SH

Pairing: Seonghwa x female reader (Y/N)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 936

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, smut, a bit of nipple play, cunnilingus&fingering, unprotected sex, tell me if I forgot anything

Enjoy!

During your friendship with Seonghwa you've had a few awkward, sexual encounters.

His hand had brushed against your breasts before, you had accidentally touched his abs before. Now for normal friends, it would be awkward, sure. But if he's also your long-time crush, it really shakes something up.

But you could get over those things, they were just brushes, innocent.

But you were not prepared for yourself to slide your hand against his dick, trying to grab the remote.

His eyes grew wide when he felt your hand on his cock, and he hid is embarrasingly, quickly growing boner with a pillow.

"Oh, Hwa, I'm..." you started your apology, until you realized what he was doing with the pillow. You had made him hard.

"Hwa..." you blushed.

"I...I'm sorry, I'm not a pervert, I swear, you're just..." his rambling stopped when you took away the pillow, and cupped his clothed dick again.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked.

To be honest, you weren't sure either. But there was this voice in your head, telling you to do this. To let him take you.

"I want you, Hwa, I have for a long time."

He was too stunned to speak, to say the least. Before he got the chance to say anything, you had pressed your lips together.

His lips were soft, plump and made you melt into his arms. The more innocent kiss quickly turned into a sexier one when his hands roamed over your body, landing on your ass.

You moaned softly into his mouth when he pulled you closer, grinding over his clothed cock. He saw it as a chance to enter your mouth with his tongue.

Seonghwa was rather skilled, and it made you feel hotter than you ever expected. You moaned into the kiss again, only for Seonghwa to break it off.

Seonghwa got rid of your shirt in one fluent movement, revealing your lacy white bralette. His hands wrapped around the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down at the same time with your panties. He wasted no time in taking off his own shirt, revealing his toned abs.

You stood up and took his hand, stumbling to your bedroom.

He kissed your lips like a starved man, like a waiting man, as if he had waited for this for a long time.

You had no idea you could get wet so quickly, but Seonghwa proved it to be the truth.

His hands came up to take off your bralette and touch your breasts, not too gently. He sucked, lightly bit on your nipples, as he softly tweaked the other one.

"I've desired you for so long, my love."

He cupped his hardened cock before getting rid of his jeans and boxers, revealing his with pre-cum dripping length.

His hand slid between her legs, rubbing the fabric, already soaking wet. "God, you drive me insane, Y/N," he groaned at the feeling.

You took off your panties yourself, and layed down on the bed, spreading your legs for the taller.

"You are so perfect," he said as he licked his lips, climbing on the bed and moving towards your body.

His fingers ran through your wet folds, collecting your arousal. He slowly pushed two of your fingers inside, causing you to moan out loud.

His pace picked up when he noticed your reaction to a certain spot, hitting it ever so lightly with his fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your moans became whinier, louder.

He pushed your legs open even wider, sliding down, parting your folds with his tongue. He grunted lowly at the taste of your pussy on his tongue.

You felt his tongue inside you, moaning in surprise. "Fuck, Hwa," you moaned. His tongue felt incredible, fucking it in and out, lapping at your clit. It almost became too much.

You felt yourself get even wetter if that was only possible, your arousal dripping down your cunt. "Jesus," Seonghwa cursed.

"I need to be inside you," he said. You nodded, "please, Hwa," you begged him.

He lined his dick up with your entrance, slowly putting in the tip, causing you to whine his name softly.

"You're so big," you moaned out when he slid his entire length in you, bottoming out and pushing in again.

"You better take it, baby," he smirked

He pushed his cock deep inside you again, moving it at a rapid pace. You moaned out his name. His gorgeous name.

Your friendship was ruined now for real, there was no going back.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he pistoned his cock inside you, going at a nearly inhumane speed.

Your moans could barely catch up to his hips, you breathed heavily.

You felt his cock pulsate inside you, he would not last much longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him inside you.

"Oh, baby, I'm gonna cum," he moaned as his hips stuttered.

"Yes, please, cum in me, Hwa!"

After a few more thrusts he came hard, spilling his seeds inside you. He didn't slow down, though, wanting you to come around his cock.

He slid his hand inbetween your sweaty bodies, to find your hot, throbbing clit. He rubbed circles on it quickly, helping you to find your release.

You felt the familiar knot inside your stomach burst, moaning out his name in pleasure.

He rode out your orgasms and kissed your neck. When he stopped, he did not pull out, he stayed inside you. Just for a while.

"Y/N, I..."

"I love you, Hwa," you whispered as you caressed his cheek. He smiled.

"I love you."

[discobrainrot]

swap harrykim??? im Interested

COMIN' RIGHT UP

Ms. theamazing! Great to have you back. Pull up a chair - can I get you some tea? Coffee? Perhaps some terrible headcanons? Because I got those in SPADES.

Also, I do realize that these are more like... general headcanons instead of specifically shipping ones, but uhhhhhhhhhhh... idk, I hope they're still fun?

1. Kim didn't chase off his own coworkers. He chased off Harry's.

This one takes a lot of inspiration from stuff @concord-and-cliches has done for the Swap AU! I love their stuff 10/10 would recommend checking them out!

Kim isn't an unrepentant spoilsport. He's a fucking bastard. The 57th sent him because he'll stop a Cop Off before it starts. You do not fuck with Kim Kitsuragi and live to tell the tale.

(It's only gotten worse since Eyes died. No one at the 57th says his name. No one has cleaned out his desk. Nobody dares touch it.)

The 41st sent McLaine and Torson on Saturday. They were back at the station in three hours. Jean, Judit, and Trant came in on Sunday. There was the hope that having an external consultant would help ease the tensions, but... No such luck.

When Kim sees them, he laughs. They sent A Satellite Officer, a Patrol Officer, and some idiot who isn't even a cop? Oh, Kim knew that the 41st was understaffed, but this? This is gold! He stoops low. Real low. Jean gives as good as he gets, but Judit and Trant decide it's time to depart. This won't end well.

And it doesn't. Kim celebrates sending them off.

(Eyes didn't celebrate like this. Kim doesn't think about him.)

He plays music too loud and doesn't sing along. He drinks the fucking Whirling dry. Throws bottles at the staff. Tears shit off the walls. Breaks a window in his room. Wrecks the tape player.

He stumbles across the water lock and parties with Idiot Doom Spiral and the boys. He calls himself The Last Dance. He staggers to the church and falls to his knees, haloed by a 2mm hole in the universe.

(He weeps. He screams his throat raw. And no one hears. And no one hears. And no one hearsandnoonehearsandnoonehearsandnoone--)

And he gets in the Kineema. Fuck it. Let's have a joyride. Only it doesn't work out like that. He crashes. Through the fence by the Whirling. Into the tree with the hanging body. He skids. It rolls. It takes the fucking gardening shed out. The residents of Martinaise watch in horror. They watch in awe.

Kim staggers back into the Whirling. Sylvie won't come near him. He needs help. She knows he needs help, but more than that, she knows he'll hurt her. So she watches as he stumbles to his room.

And on Monday, Kim is woken up in a room he doesn't remember by a knock at the door.

2. Harry isn't that kind of animal.

But he got close to it. When he first joined the RCM he pushed himself to be the best he could be. For himself. For Dora. He wanted to give them a better life.

Some things stay the same. His skills still chatter. Dora still leaves. He was the Can-Opener. Was.

But something changed. Jean knows about it, I think. He was beside him during the worst of it. Harry carries the shame of his actions like an albatross around his neck. But he's better than he was. He takes it a day at a time.

He's only a lieutenant - not a yefreitor, and certainly not a double yefreitor. He doesn't clear two cases a week. He doesn't drink, even though he wants to. He doesn't think about his sexuality, even though it plagues him. He has so many questions, but he stops himself from asking. He's trying.

The 41st sends him on Monday because he's their last option. He's unsure of himself these days. Unsteady. Second-guessing every choice he makes. Going into his own world. It worries the rest of C-Wing, but they don't have the time or energy to spare.

Harry goes to Martinaise and waits downstairs for the detective from the 57th to show up. And he waits. And he waits. And he waits. But it's 09:45, and his temporary partner isn't downstairs. No one in the Whirling wants to talk to Harry, especially not about the damages.

He goes upstairs and knocks on the door. And he sees Kim. Bloody. Exhausted. Confused. He doesn't understand where he is. Doesn't remember the RCM. Doesn't know his own name. Harry's skills are going haywire - there's something wrong with this guy.

But the blood in the bathroom is Kim's. And so is the MC in the yard. And the people here recognize him and-- oh god, he's telling the truth. He needs a guide to the world. Someone needs Harry.

So, Harry helps, and he feels his lungs wither in shame. He loves feeling needed. Loves feeling wanted. He loves feeling seen. Old addictive tendencies are surfacing, but he's not reaching for a bottle. He's reaching for an amnesiac's hand.

3. Kim takes a bullet for Harry. 

The second Kim sees Harry, he knows that this motherfucker would die for him. He can't figure out why. At first, he doesn't really care, either.

But the thing about Harry is that even if he can put on a performance of being passably stable, he's still a lot to experience. He still has a big laugh and a lopsided smile. He's still wildly creative and wants to explore everything he can. He looks longingly at the Man from Hjelmdall shirt, but he doesn't buy it.

So Kim buys it for him and tells him to wear it. He gets Harry a shoutout on SadFM and watches as his partner's eyes well up with tears. They dance in the church together. Sing karaoke. They talk and talk and talk.

Kim asks Harry how he's so nice to people. Harry looks ashamed when he says, "I'm... not nice." There's an echo of a long-held sadness in his voice. It tugs on something in Kim's lungs. They're mirrors of each other, but he doesn't know how to say it. He doesn't know how to prove they're worth each other's time.

Kim remembers that moment as they stand between the mercenaries and the Hardie Boys. His vision is terrible, but Harry is distracted - trying to talk people down. He doesn't see the shot coming.

But he hears it. The bang. The creation of the universe. The end of time.

He feels Kim shove him out of the way, pressing his gun into his hands. He sees the square awash with red. He tries to stop Kim from bleeding - applying pressure with big, shaking hands. He's crying. He shouldn't be crying. Kim needs him.

He listens when Kim tells him to look out. He shoots when he's told to. He watches Kim pass out and rushes him upstairs. Harry's big, clumsy hands wash Kim's wounds. He makes a shitty field medic. He sobs while Kim sleeps and shakes at the side of his bed.

No one from the 57th comes.

No one from the 41st comes.

But against all odds, they survive. The sun has been up for hours, but it only rises when Kim opens his eyes. He sees Harry crying again and wipes away a tear. Dizzily, Kim thinks, "so, this is love." 

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Riding the Lightning

Season One Masterlist

Poison

Unfinished Business

Summary: The team of investigators interview husband and wife serial killers with their execution date set for two days time but then they start to speculate that things aren’t as clear as they seem.

Warning: Implications of past sexual assault, Implication of a past sexual psychopath, Mentions of teenage victims, Flashbacks, Flashback to a twelve-year-old being injured, Mention of J.D., Mention of Abuse

“An abusive man is not a reliable source of information about his partner.” — Lundy Bancroft

The team was driving down to Central Florida to interview a supposed serial killing couple just before their execution.

JJ, Elle, Gideon, and Morgan took one car.

"Sarah Jean and Jacob Dawes butchered what, twelve girls?" JJ asked.

"Thirteen, counting the girl that was just found. Hilary Dickson." Gideon said, "Disappeared fifteen years ago. Buried her under Sarah's mother's living room."

"You think that was their last victim?" Elle asked.

"Well, that's what we're here to find out."

Alexander, Hotch, Zoe, Spencer, and Garcia took the other car, much to Zoe's annoyance, as Garcia would complain about leaving her corner.

"There's nothing about the dynamics of Sarah Jean and Jacob's relationship." Spencer noted.

"The state isn't interested in dynamics or profiles. They just want this case to go away." Zoe said, cynically, fidgeting.

"They were caught. They confessed. They got the death penalty." Hotch said.

"You guys do realize that visiting death row is not part of my job description?" Garcia complained.

"Mmm." Zoe hummed, tilting her head in disagreement.

"Garcia, this will be the first serial killer couple ever recorded for ViCAP." Spencer said.

"They slaughtered thirteen young girls with blonde hair. Hello?" Garcia said with judgement and disgust and gestured to her own blonde hair.

"Stop complaining, Garcia. Those girls were way ­younger than you." Zoe said, unintentionally insulting Garcia.

In 1990, when they were caught, the media called Sarah Jean Dawes, "The Ice Queen" because that's how they had interpreted her demeanour during the trial. Zoe saw different, though. Even though, she had only been five, she had watched the video of the trial. She hadn't seen her demeanor as apathetic... more traumatized. Like she would become in so soon in life.

She had only confessed to killing her two-year-old son, Riley but she was still charged with the murders of those girls. However, there had no evidence of Rile

When they arrived, there was a crowd outside the prison, most of them declaring their hate of the couple but there were a dozen blondes, proclaiming their love for Jacob.

"They call themselves the Women of Jacob." Zoe said, rolling her eyes.

"Try to look like his victims."

"Creepy." Garcia said.

"It happens more than you think. It's called hybristophilia. Richard Ramieraz killed twelve people but had fans who would write him and pay him visits, including Foreen Lioy who married him in San Quentin State Prison. Carol Ann Booth married Ted Bundy the day before he was sentenced to death and conceived a daughter while he was in prison." Spencer said.

"Oh yeah, I met her very briefly." Zoe recalled and then nodded to the women, "There's only twelve of them. Should we tell them they're one short? At least?"

——————————————————————————————————

"Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." — Genesis 9:6.

January 23, 2006, MONDAY, 8 AM — 35 Hours Remaining

Garcia started up the prison computer system as Morgan said, "In 1985, there was a string of missing girls reported in Northern Florida. Police subsequently got an anonymous call from a woman claiming to have seen Jacob with some of the girls."

"Did they ever find out who the anonymous woman was?" JJ asked.

"No." Spencer drawled

"Police interviewed Jacob Dawes. Also present were Sarah Jean Dawes and their two-year-old son, Riley. Police were suspicious. They came back three hours later with a search warrant only to find that Riley had vanished. They also eventually found the dismembered bodies of twelve missing girls buried in the ground underneath Jacob's workshop." Hotch explained.

"Fearing that the police were onto them, Jacob figured Riley would slow them down so he ordered Sarah Jean to kill him and dispose of the body." Spencer said.

"Sarah confessed to killing Riley, but never admitted her role in the deaths of the girls." Gideon said.

"Yeah, but she never denied it, either." Elle said.

"Well, according to Jacob, Sarah Jean was fully complicit in the targeting, abduction and murder of all twelve, and, well, now thirteen victims."

"Prison records show that Jacob is a sexual psychopath. They were inconclusive on Sarah Jean, though. They said her demeanor was more like that of a war victim's." Spencer said.

Alexander looked at Zoe, she had said the same thing when she was younger on this very case. Multiple times. It was how one could describe her after those five days. When she woke up, she never cried but her eyes were still bloodshot from the tears she had cried in captivity. She had been in shock and couldn't remember anything, but still she lied to everyone but Alexander and Zarah.

And when she came back from those eight months. Apart from her breaking into tears at the realization that Zarah had never been found, she had remained distant, nearly emotionless. Until the first bouquet arrived. The moment she saw those blood-covered white roses, she had broken down, screaming and crying so hard that she had difficulty breathing. In hysterics, only muffled when she buried her face into Alexander's chest.

Not quite as much as after those six months. She had learned to be strong by then. Well, Zoe's definition of strength. By refusing to show weakness.

"And as with all sexual psychopaths, Jacob is obsessed with the idea of the total possession of his victims. He's shown no remorse or guilt.

Well, Jacob saw Sarah Jean as a possession. Somebody to control. To dominate." Gideon said.

Zoe's memory flashed back to the first stab as that scar burned as if being cut open again. It was the closest thing she could remember to her time with him other than him holding the gun to her head until he pistol-whipped her.

He had kept the blade in her body for a long time, he had pulled her flush against his body and the knife piercing deep into her flesh. She wasn't sure if more tears welled up in her eyes or if it just felt like it from five full days of... whatever he did to her. He had his hand on the back of her head, and he was shushing her and whispering but she couldn't remember what he was saying. She got the feeling his voice was husky though... and it made her feel sick. She felt him grip her hair and pull, but her scalp had already been throbbing. Had he pulled her hair a lot? Her head jerked up, meeting those gold hazel eyes, shining with mirth and pleasure. She knew in that moment that he owned her. He had done terrible things to her the past five days, things that had never been done to her, she knew that. She had never been stabbed before, not with a knife. This was her first UnSub scar, just below the scar that saved her life twelve years ago. He had irretrievably damaged her, he had tricked her and taken her right in front of her sister because of what her dad hadn't done. Then he pulled the blade out to start stabbing again. All while she refused to break eye contact. If he was going to kill her, he was going to have to look her in the eyes.

Now, even nearly eight years later, she was still his plaything. She knew he watched the news for her. Followed her every step. She was his possession in his twisted mind. She could never escape even though she let him escape.

Zoe felt like she couldn't breathe but she had had practice in hiding her PTSD. Her brokenness.

She nearly flinched when Alexander put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes darted up and she saw Gideon looking at her. Oh, he knew. Did that make him as guilty as she was? The lives

"Just so we're clear, they've agreed to these interviews?" A man asked.

"Yes, sir." Gideon nodded.

"Wait. I'm sorry." Zoe asked, and her voice was briefly hoarse. Which Spencer picked up on. "Who are you, exactly?"

"I'm Sam Shapiro. I'm their appeals attorney."

"Not only have they agreed to them, they were initially requested by them." Hotch said, handing Shapiro a paper.

"Yeah, I can't get them a stay of execution."

"Garcia. Remember, seventy-five percent of all communication..." Gideon said.

"Is non-verbal." Garcia finished.

"Hotch, Alexander, interview Jacob. Morgan, Elle?" Gideon said. He knew it was best not to have Zoe be near him. If her zone-out PTSD attack was anything, he didn't want to remind her of her repressed memories sooner than she had to.

"We're not going to get anything new, but..." Hotch said.

"Well, find a new way to ask." Gideon said and handed a picture to Morgan, "696 Hennessy Street, Jacob and Sarah Jean's home. It's due for demolition. Take a look around."

——————————————————————————————————

Gideon, Zoe, and Spencer walked with the warden to see Sarah Jean.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked Zoe.

"Just peachy." Zoe huffed.

"The guards call this dead man's alley." The warden said.

"Has she had any contact with Jacob?" Gideon asked.

"Well, until today she's declined contact with anyone." The warden said. "For her own safety, we keep her away from the other prisoners. The hate for this woman is as fresh today as it was fifteen years ago. Open on four!"

They reached Sarah Jean's cell which was full of paintings that she was staring at.

"Accomplished work." Gideon said.

"I've had plenty of time." Sarah Jean said. Her voice was hoarse as if she hadn't been in the habit of using it a lot. She turned around, showing them the face Zoe had seen on TV when she was five. Sarah Jean was a middle-aged blonde woman with blue eyes that seemed to be much older in the way that Gideon's were, and she had a kind, gentle smile. "What is it you want to know?"

"I think it's time the mothers of those girls learned why their children had to die. Don't you?" Gideon asked.

Sarah Jean was perfectly lovely, she asked for their names as they walked.

"This is Doctor Spencer Reid and I'm Doctor Zoe Noble-Valdez, M.D." Zoe said.

"A doctor and so young. Your mother must be very proud." She told Spencer and he nodded slightly. She turned to Zoe, "Your mother must be proud too."

"My dad is... my mom's... she's dead." Zoe said and Sarah Jean showed true sympathy in her eyes.

Jacob caught sight of his wife between the cages that separated the walkways.

"Sarah Jean." He said and Sarah Jean's face fell. "Sarah Jean." She turned to see her husband whom she hadn't seen in fifteen years. "You look so fine, baby cakes. This was meant to be. Our names will live forever."

"Let's go." Hotch said and they forced Jacob to move.

"It's a beautiful thing."

"Let's go!"

"It's a beautiful thing."

Sarah Jean turned to Gideon, "You designed that to happen. Did you learn anything, Agent?" She turned to Zoe, "What about you, doctor?"

"The same thing I knew when I saw you appear on my TV screen when I was five years old." Zoe said.

——————————————————————————————————

They sat Sarah Jean at a table to talk to her.

"So what did you see in Jacob?"  Gideon asked.

"Freedom." Sarah Jean asked.

"Freedom from what?" Spencer asked.

But she didn't reply she just looked at him.

"Sarah Jean, I get it. I had a boyfriend that my dad very much didn't approve of either." Zoe said.

"And what did you see in him?" Sarah Jean asked, she was genuinely curious and Zoe knew it was best to answer her if they wanted a rapport.

Zoe considered it for a moment. it was a loaded question. J.D. saw a part of her, she hadn't allowed anyone else to see. Simply because he personally knew what signs to look for.

"Relatable trauma. He was broken like I am." Zoe replied. Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion.

Garcia's voice came over the earpieces.

"Gideon? It's Elle. She says it's urgent." She said and Gideon stood up to listen with no distractions.

"We're at the mother's house. She gave me a letter. I want to read to you." Elle's voice said as Sarah Jean

"Read the letter, Elle." Gideon said.

"What?" Sarah Jean gasped, looking at Spencer and Zoe.

"Mom, I know how difficult this must be..."

Gideon started to repeat Elle's words to Sarah Jean, the letter she wrote.

"...difficult this must be. Things between us were never what they should be between a mother and her daughter."

"That is a private letter." Sarah Jean said, standing up.

"I want you to know that the best part of me, the most important part of me is now in a better place than you or I will ever be."

"Stop it!"  Sarah Jean screamed, pulling the earpiece out of Gideon's ear.

"I am responsible for the deaths of those girls." Spencer continued repeating it aloud, "I neglected my duty as a woman and as a mother."

Sarah Jean started to hit Spencer but Zoe was on her feet, grabbing her and Sarah Jean spun around and raised her hand to hit Zoe but Zoe just moved her head, looking at it but not flinching... like she was all too used to it.

"Do you think hurting me like the men who hurt us is going to help?" Zoe asked, sincerely.

Sarah Jean retracted her hand as if she had been burned as she stared into Zoe's eyes.

"You neglected your duty?" Gideon asked and Zoe swallowed, looking away as Sarah Jean sat down in a chair, holding her head in one hand. "That doesn't make you responsible. You didn't kill those girls. Why didn't you say this in court?"

"I knew he brought women back to his workshop." Sarah Jean confessed, but she still wasn't answering truthfully, she was still hiding something.

"That's a long way from knowing he was killing them." Spencer said, sympathetically.

"They died as a result of my neglect."  Sarah Jean said.

Zoe's heart clenched with guilt, a guilt she had forced herself to learn to live with from an age that no one should have to live with that sort of guilt. A guilt she learned to accept as the norm... before more guilt piled up on her. To the point that she felt like she couldn't breathe... literally... the emotional guilt had become physical to her like it was choking her. But she couldn't let it show. She couldn't let anyone know. That was the power he had over her. These cases were the hardest. When she related to someone so much that she couldn't help but be painfully reminded of her own pain. As if the physical scars weren't enough. As if the nightmares weren't enough. As if the future repercussions weren't enough.

"This letter suggests to me that an innocent woman is about to be executed for crimes she did not commit." Gideon said.

——————————————————————————————————

MONDAY, 9:00 — Twenty-Four Hours Remaining

They rewatched the video from the camera.

"They died as a result of my neglect."

"This letter suggests to me that an innocent woman is about to be executed for crimes she did not commit."

"Well, I can tell you right now, it's not enough to get a stay." Shapiro said to Gideon.

"You want facts?" Gideon asked and turned to Spencer, "Reid."

"Human sexuality is a complex dynamic of three components, biological, physiological and emotional. Jacob's needs were informed by the emotional and sexual abuse that he received at the hand of his mother." Spencer explained.

"Long-term repetitive abuse informed the template of his love map, something we refer to as a signature. Jacob was an only child..." Zoe continued.

"Thus he was alone when the abuse occurred. So in order for him to fulfill his fantasy, he has got to be alone with his victims." Spencer finished.

They played a video of the interview Jacob had with Hotch

"If I told you that, what would I have left for myself?" He had asked Hotch.

"He said, 'myself'." Gideon pointed out, "If Sarah Jean was present, it would have destroyed his fantasy."

"She confessed to killing her son." The warden said.

"Yes, true, but we're also convinced that she was the anonymous caller that made the phone call that nailed Jacob." Spencer pointed out.

"Henry Lee Lucas claimed he killed over six hundred people. Just because someone claims they killed someone doesn't make it true." Zoe said.

"Guilt-ridden, filled with remorse, she called the police." Gideon explained, "That's not the profile of a woman who would then kill her child.

"What else do you need?" Spencer asked.

"Evidence." Shapiro said.

"If we prove Jacob killed Riley, would that get a stay?" Gideon asked.

"Absolutely." Shapiro said.

"If either of them killed them..." Zoe muttered.

"What?" The warden asked.

Zoe nodded at the live footage of Sarah Jean holding a painting including a little blonde boy. "She protects the painting. She protects the boy."

"What?" Shapiro asked this time.

"The paintings are a statement. We need to figure out what they say." Gideon explained, but it didn't clarify Zoe's words too much more for them.

"Zoe, you catch her off guard. You remind her of her when she was younger." Gideon said, looking at Zoe who gave him a deadpan look back like a sarcastic, thanks. "Do you think you can handle that?"

"I've survived worst." She said.

——————————————————————————————————

Somehow the possibility of stay of execution got out to the public. JJ, wanting to help, and being most like Jacob's victims, young and blonde, went to help Hotch while Zoe and Gideon went back to talk to Sarah Jean again.

"Sorry about before. You know, breaking your earthing and..." Her eyes flickered over Zoe who sat with a guarded posture. Arms crossed over her chest, her body stiff, but ready to fight at a moment's notice. Fifteen years ago, she wouldn't have noticed but now she did.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty." Zoe said softly.

Sarah Jean smiled; Zoe was only a few years older than Riley. Zoe was only twenty and still very much looked like a teenager. She dressed like one, not like an FBI agent. She dressed like a girl determined to show who she was through her clothing but they weren't as quirky as they could've been, showing just an ounce of professionalism. Zoe wore a dark gray t-shirt with multiple colorful crayon scribbles on it and in white words: Broken crayons still color under a black leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and high black boots. Her shirt had creases in it that implied that it had been tied in a knot but to show just a bit of professionalism Zoe had had undone the knot and tried to smooth out the crinkles.

"I think your mom would've been proud of you."

Both Zoe and Gideon smiled. Both were bittersweet in a way but still a smile.

"You both have a lovely smile."

"Thank you." Gideon said but Zoe didn't take the compliment.

"But neither of you smile much. Not really." It was hard to notice how fake Zoe's smiles were if you didn't know what to look for. She didn't know when she started using smiles to mask her pain, to her she had always been in pain, there had always been pain to mask but she didn't think she could stop the fake smiles if she wanted to. At some point, the mask of fake smiles merged with her true face. At some point, she became the mask.

"Neither do you."

“What's your excuse?

Zoe couldn't help but let out a bitter chuckle, "Even without the execution scheduled tomorrow, we wouldn't have enough time to list them all."

The cell door unlocked, and a guard brought Sarah Jean's paintings in.

"I took the liberty of getting these from your cell." Gideon informed her.

"No, those are private." Sarah Jean protested but the guard placed them on the table anyways.

"Thank you." Gideon thanked them and they left, leaving them with Sarah Jean and the other guards who "just wallpaper."

"They're very good." Zoe said, kindly. In her time that could be compared to prison, if she were being kind, she only had her mind to pass the time as the UnSubs did as they pleased to her.

Gideon looked at the first painting. The painting she was most attached to. "Riley running free." He placed the painting on the floor propped up against the cage door so they could see it. He picked up another, The river. Flowing positive energy, maybe." He placed it next to the one with Riley. And he picked up the last painting, "Twelve roses. One for each girl Jacob killed."

"Until a few days ago. Jacob's thirteenth victim was found." Zoe said and Sarah Jean looked at her, shocked. "Her name was Hilary Dickson."

"You didn't know about her. You didn't really know about any of them." Gideon said.

"I never said I did."

"You confessed to killing Riley. Why would you lie about killing your own son?" Gideon asked.

"I didn't." Sarah Jean said.

"You're right. What always bothered me about your case is that you never fought the accusations, and you went along with the accusation that you killed your son. But there's no evidence. No body. No struggle. Just a missing toddler." Zoe said.

"Do you have any children?" Sarah Jean asked.

"No." Zoe said, sharply at once, her body tensing once again.

"That's irrelevant." Gideon said.

"Do you carry pictures of your children, Agent Gideon?" She pressed on.

"We're getting off point."

"Are we?"

"How old would your son be now?" Gideon asked. "Seventeen? Imagine what he could have become. Jacob put an end to any chance of that."

"Does the strain of your work affect your marriage?" Sarah Jean asked.

"I'm not married."

“You wear a ring.”

Jill Gideon was a silent partner in getting the BAU up and running. She also helped raise Zoe, she was the only therapist both Zoe and Jason could trust. They divorced just two years after David Rossi "retired".

"Why would you still be protecting Jacob?" Gideon asked.

"Did your suffer relationship because of your work?" Sarah Jean asked Zoe.

"Yes and no." Zoe said. And that was that.

"Did you divorce because of putting people like me away?"

"I think you're innocent." Gideon said.

"We're all guilty of something. But it's our children that suffers for our sins, isn't it?"

"You'd have to ask him."

"Can't I ask you?" Sarah Jean asked Zoe. "You're the other agent's daughter."

"I don't think so." Zoe said, truthfully. Despite her dad insisting she and Zarah come along on cases, she never blamed him for getting on UnSubs' radars. Not once. Her dad would say different.

"How old is your son?" Sarah Jean asked Gideon.

"He's twenty-two." Gideon said with a smile.

"Oh!" Sarah Jean smiled. "Do you have a picture of him?"

"In my office." Gideon said, gesturing.

"You don't carry him with you?"

"No."

"Does your father carry pictures of you?"

"Not of me, no. But a few weeks after my twin and I were born he got a necklace engraved with a Linnaea borealis or more commonly known as the twinflower, it's a bell-like flower that come in pairs on Y-shaped stalks. Inside are our baby footprints and our birth names." Zoe explained.

"To protect you." She smiled and looked at Gideon, "You want to leave him somewhere safe. Somewhere clean."

"You killed Riley to protect him from Jacob?" Gideon asked.

"I protect my son as you protect yours." Sarah Jean said.

"Where's he buried?" Gideon asked.

"All that matters is that he's safe."

"Where is he?" Zoe asked.

"He's in a better place."

The warden entered and said, "The chaplain's here to see you."

——————————————————————————————————

When Jacob heard that Sarah Jean had been granted a stay of execution, he claimed he could tell them where he was buried. They searched under a gazebo that was built by Jacob while Zoe spoke some more to Sarah Jean after she spoke with the chaplain while Spencer stayed back, shifting awkwardly.

Zoe didn't ask her questions; they just played a game of chess. Sarah Jean hadn't played against someone in a while. Zoe went easy on her.

“Did your boyfriend ever hurt you?” Sarah Jean asked her.

Zoe looked up at her. It was a common assumption. If you knew J.D. separately you would assume so, if you even just looked at his records, you'd think so. He had a tendency for violence, but he was a lot like Zoe. Layered. A rough exterior hiding a soft center. He didn't play by the rules and could be violently aggressive. But he never hurt Zoe. Not once.

“Ex-boyfriend. We broke up less than a year ago. And no. He… he was hurt a lot. His mom hurt him. His uncle couldn’t protect him from his stepmother. But he saw that other people hurt me. People like your husband. Possibly someone very similar to your husband. But he would never hurt me. I’m the only person he would never hurt.”

"You seem sure about that."

"I am."

“Do you still love him?” Sarah Jean asked and behind Zoe, Spencer shifted his weight.

Zoe took a moment to answer. “I’m always going to have this fondness for him. But I don’t love him like that anymore. He did a bad thing. A few bad things. And people will suffer because of it. And I will suffer because I caused it. I believed I deserved to be loved but I don’t."

"That can't be true."

"It is." She said, sharply, and then her voice softened, "I pushed him when I was trying to save him."

Spencer had to excuse himself as he got word on what the rest of the team found.

"Who hurt you?"

"A lot of men. My dad tried his best to protect me but... my mom she killed by an UnSub, a serial killer who killed pregnant women, my sister managed to be born but she was taken when she was still pregnant with me. She willingly let herself be hurt to protect me until she died."

“She did what any true mother would do.” Sarah Jean said, softly.

“Yeah, doesn’t make her death any less my fault. So my dad was too afraid for me and my sister to be out of his sight so he would take us on cases and I was not a cooperative child. I wanted to help and that got the attention of some bad men. Particularly when I was twelve, a man, a lot like your husband. Psychopath, hebephile, sexual sadist, gets off on the power he has over someone. He held a gun to my head and I was found five days later stabbed thirteen times and he still holds power over me. In the worst way."

"How?"

"I can't." Zoe whispered, shaking her head. "But I understand so much more than you know."

"Zoe." Spencer came back, "The team's back. They have something."

——————————————————————————————————

Eight Hours Remaining

They found a skeleton under the gazebo and checked for the ID.

"Guys, the body's ID's coming through," Garcia said and it brought up a picture of a young teenage girl with blonde hair. "It's not Riley Dawes. It's Ashley Farley. She was fourteen when she was killed."

"Why would Jacob give us another victim?" Spencer asked. It completely goes against his need for power, manipulation, and control."

"Taking the secret of an old victim to his grave satisfies that need." Gideon said.

"Why give it up? I mean, what's the payoff?" Spencer asked.

"Sarah Jean's the payoff." Zoe said, darkly. "Sarah Jean will be his last victim. That'd be the ultimate of control."

"Gideon, check this out. Guess who used to be the Farleys' house cleaner?

——————————————————————————————————

Zoe walked to Sarah Jean's cell where she was eating Hardee's on her prison bed with the painting with Riley hanging behind her.

"My last supper. Like some?" She asked, softly and picked up a little stuffed animal, "Look, came with a toy."

"I'm a vegetarian." Zoe declined and asked, "May I sit down?"

"Please."

Zoe and Gideon stepped inside her cell and it slid shut behind her and Zoe sat on the bed to break the news to Sarah Jean.

"Ashley Farley. You cleaned her parents' house. Remember?" Zoe asked.

"Fondly."

"I'm so sorry but we found her buried beneath a children's gazebo." Zoe said and Sarah Jean gasped loudly in grief and despair and stood up. "At another house Jacob renovated. He put her there." She went to the cell door, clutching the bars.

"I might as well have brought her home to that bastard."

"It's what Jacob wants. He wants to torture you." Zoe tried.

"Did he do to you too?" Sarah Jean asked, sharply.

"Not yet. But he will. And that's the worst part." Zoe said.

"How can you stand it?"

"I couldn't. I repressed it from my mind. The only reason I remember is because of the thirteen stab wounds he gave me." Zoe sighed and she turned to the painting of the river. "The high reeds. The river." She pointed to a brown object near the water. "This here, what is this, a basket?" Then she looked at the painting of Riley playing, "The boy in that painting is what, ten? Maybe more. Is that how you see him, or how he is?"

"I only have a few hours left. I'm respectfully asking you to leave." Sarah Jean pleaded.

"Where is he? Where is Riley?" Zoe pleaded back.

Sarah Jean turned back to the bars and said, "Please see Doctor Noble-Valdez out."

"Open four."

The door opened and Zoe walked through it, She remembered the heaviness in her jacket and she turned back to Sarah Jean in an act of kindness.

"Sarah Jean. I thought... you might want a book. This was one of my mom's favorites. Little Women. Please, be careful. It was her own copy. She wrote anecdotes in it... in case she didn't get to tell me them in person." Zoe said, taking out a copy of the classic that was over two decades old and handing it to her through the bars. "Just... to pass the time."

——————————————————————————————————

Five Hours Left

Zoe walked back inside, feeling like she left part of her behind with the book. "Garcia, pull up the interview with Sarah Jean."

"What is it?"

"If my memory of the Bible is correct, Hebrew sons were supposed to be drowned but Moses' mother sent him down the Nile in a basket.

"Exodus 2:3." Spencer recalled. "The Birth of Moses."

"Where's he buried?" Gideon asked in the video.

All that matters is that he's safe.

"Where is he?" Zoe asked.

"He's in a better place."

"Dad, do you remember what you told me when we first heard this story on the news?" Zoe asked.

It had just been months since Zoe's heart stopped from an incident with their grandfather and Alexander had made it clear that if he was anywhere near them again, he'd get a restraining order. Alexander had promised he'd never let Cain hurt Zoe again, that she wouldn't have to go through what he put Alexander and Isobel through. Even if he'd have to fake their deaths.

"Jacob didn't bury Riley anywhere." Alexander said.

"Sarah Jean had already taken care of him." Zoe

"Then she did kill him." JJ said, confused.

"No, she sent him somewhere where she believed he'd be safe." Spencer explained.

"He's alive." Garcia gasped, typing on the keyboard and bringing up a picture of a two-year-old boy with blonde hair and brown eyes.

"When I told her about what happened to my mom, she said she did what any true mom would do. She protected me from the man who killed her. Sarah Jean said that because she did the same for Riley. Protected her from someone who wanted to kill him." Zoe explained.

"We're running out of time." Gideon said, "This is the proof we need to save Sarah Jean."

——————————————————————————————————

Two Hours Left

"Check all police and hospital records dating back to September 1990." Gideon told Garcia.

"You know, you should check local newspapers, too. See if anyone reported any abandoned babies.

"Yeah, I don't give a damn where the Governor is." Shapiro passed them on his phone. "We may have found proof that Sarah Jean is innocent."

"She really only had a maximum of three hours between police visits." Spencer set up the timeline. "It was 4:00 p.m., so traffic was pretty heavy. Whatever she did with Riley, it had to be local."

"1990. Three babies were abandoned in September." Garcia said.

"But no two-year-old boys?" Zoe said, looking over her shoulder and Garcia slumped.

"Why doesn't she just tell us where Riley is?" Spencer asked.

"She'll protect him for as long as Jacob is alive." Gideon said.

"Look, they're being executed within an hour of each other. What hope do we even have of finding him in time?" JJ complained.

"You know, it's quite possible she doesn't even know where he is anyway."

"No. She'd know." Gideon said. "We've got to get into her cell."

——————————————————————————————————

Gideon, Hotch, and Zoe walked to the warden who was watching Jacob get his head shaved in prep for the electric chair.

"Where have you been hiding this hottie, Hotch?" Jacob asked at seeing Zoe, "You come to see the show?"

"Screw you, you Fred West wannabe." She scoffed, barely looking at him but not in a fearful or intimidated way but like he wasn't even worth her time and Gideon pulled the warden away to speak to him.

"We need to get into Sarah Jean's cell. I believe the proof we..." Gideon told him.

"I can't do that!" The warden insisted, "All official lines of communication are now over."

"I just need five minutes.

"Agent, they want the memory of these two individuals erased.

"They'll be condemning an innocent woman to death just for protecting her child. Is it worth risking that just because they want to get this over this and not have to deal with them anymore?" Zoe spat.

"Five minutes. That's all I need." Gideon said, much calmer than Zoe.

The warden ultimately granted them five minutes to get into the cell.

Meanwhile, Gideon and Zoe entered her cell. Gideon started to go through the mattress, but Zoe went straight up to the Riley painting and she took it off the wall and pulled the back out to find a picture of a teenage boy with a cello taped to it. It was a cutout clipping from a paper.

——————————————————————————————————

They brought it back to the team and put it side by side to the picture of two-year-old Riley.

"That's Riley. That's her son. Isn't it?" Garcia pleaded, "Someone tell me it's him, please."

"Maybe." Zoe said.

"JJ, circulate this photo to the press." Hotch said, "See if anybody recognizes this boy."

"Do I say who we think he is?" JJ asked.

"No, just put him out as a Missing Persons."  Hotch told her and JJ went to leave to do so when there was a beep.

"What does that mean?" She asked.

"It means Jacob is being moved to the execution chamber."

Hotch left to see Jacob off and Jacob confessed to killing four more girls before he willingly walked to the execution chamber.

"She cut around the photo so no one can read the text." Spencer said, "He was two when he disappeared. This boy's sixteen or seventeen. If it's Riley, it would mean it's a recent photo."

"Once Jacob's dead, you think Sarah Jean will tell us if this is Riley?" JJ asked. Gideon didn't answer. He just turned and left. "Zoe?"

"I don't know." She answered.

She looked at a photo of Riley and suddenly a rage shot through her as memories came back of him. His hazel-brown eyes. Soulless but full of sick pleasure as he drove a knife through her skin. Her memory suddenly came back to something she hadn't thought about in a while. A few days after she had lied... straight to the BAU's faces. The day before she was discharged, she woke up to find the note. She had let him win. She was still letting him win. And if the theories were right he could've died thinking he won but she doubted it.

Jacob was not going to die, thinking he won.

She grabbed a print of Riley and walked with long determined strides through the hallway. She felt only rage and injustice, but she had an empty look in her eyes, she felt disconnected from the world in a way she hadn't for a long time.

She passed Hotch who called her name but she didn't seem to hear him, she wouldn't remember him saying her name. The next thing she remembered she was on the other side of the glass looking at Jacob's smug face and she slammed the picture against it so he could see it.

"Riley!" She said with coldness and spite in her tone. Jacob's face fell in realization and horror. "He's alive. You lose!"

Jacob scrunched his face in outrage and growled out, "No!"

The guard rolled the black cloth over Jacob's face, the last thing he saw was Zoe with cold, merciless eyes and a smirk on her face with proof that Sarah Jean would not be joining him in death. The lights flickered as they pulled the lever and Jacob was dead.

Zoe blinked, barely having remembered having gotten all the way here. There was quite a bit of satisfaction at taking it from Jacob but there was still an empty hole left since she was twelve.

——————————————————————————————————

Sarah Jane still refused after Jacob was dead. Garcia looked through the adoption registry as Gideon said,

"The only people Jacob allowed Sarah Jean to know were the families she cleaned for."

"Sarah Jean worked for wealthy families, all of whom lived in Hampton." Hotch said. "Let's go over all the families in the state of Florida who were looking to adopt in 1990 and let's see how many lived in Hampton."

"Families looking to adopt? Hundreds."

"How many from Hampton?" Gideon asked.

"Three families. The Jameses, the Kopples and the Sheffields." Garcia said after narrowing down the list.

"Looks like the Sheffields removed themselves from the list in October 1990 and then moved out of Hampton." Zoe read the screen, "That's one month after Riley vanished. Where'd they go?

"Keystone Heights." Garcia said, "We got a match on the photo. It was in the local daily news."

"Call Morgan and Elle. Tell them to get to the Sheffield house." Hotch said as he left the room.

"Byron Sheffield." Spencer read Riley's new name.

"Local cello prodigy, seventeen-year-old Byron Sheffield, won a scholarship to play cello." Zoe read.

"They'll stop it right?"

"The warden is duty-bound to see it through without an official stay of execution from the Governor.

Zoe left and joined Hotch, Gideon, and Sarah Jean at the door as the warden went in.

"What wouldn't you do for your son to give him a life you could never hope to dream of? I am at peace in the knowledge that my son is free to be whatever he chooses to be." Sarah Jean said.

"If he knew who you were, do you think he'd choose to allow you to walk in there?" Gideon asked.

"If he knew who his parents were, can you imagine the damage my legacy would leave him?"

"Your legacy is hearsay off the assumption you killed your son, but you didn't." Zoe protested.

"Can you imagine what he would feel knowing his mother spent 15 years on death row, innocent of all charges, just so he could be free of her?" Gideon asked.

"Not me. Jacob. It isn't just my life you have in your hands, it's Riley's life, too. You have the chance to save my son's life."

"I choose to save yours, too."

"My life ended the day I met Jacob."

"That's not true." Zoe pleaded but she couldn't ignore the knowledge she felt the same way. That fateful February day.

"Gideon, I've got Elle. She says they're at the Sheffield house." Garcia that through the earpieces.

The warden stepped back out and said, "It's time."

"Take your hands off her." Gideon said when the guards grabbed onto Sarah Jean "Tell Morgan to kick the door down if he has to."

"Morgan, you're gonna get in the house, whatever it takes." Hotch said.

"I said take your hands off her."

"Agent Gideon."

"It's not right. To send this woman to her death just because she asks for it." Zoe shouted. "Just because you want to forget about the things her husband did!"

"Gideon, they've got him. What are we doing here, Gideon?

"I am standing here because of choices I made. Don't let my son be Jacob's last victim. Please, Doctor Noble-Valdez, don't let him go through what you've gone through."

Zoe wanted to protest but suddenly all she could see were those eyes again and a breathy chuckle in her ear. She could almost feel his weight on top of her again.

"Let me go. Let us both go."

"Tell Morgan it's not her son. That we made a mistake."

Zoe looked at him, her breath still caught in her throat.

Zoe then felt Sarah Jean take her hand, "You're stronger than I am."

"I'm not." She whispered.

"I think when the time comes, you'll do the right thing." She told her and she let the guards take her before turning back to her and Gideon. "Would it be too much to ask if yours is the last faces I see?

"Of course not." Zoe said.

"I know your mother would be proud of you." She promised her.

Zoe and Gideon sat on the other side of the glass, watching her until they put the black cloth over Sarah Jean's face.

It wasn't quite Sarah Jean's words kept coming back to Zoe: "I think when the time comes, you'll do the right thing."

But the reply Zoe had in her head: How many people will he have killed by then. Who will he have killed?

Albert Pine said, "What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal."

——————————————————————————————

The line: Gideon thanked them and they left, leaving them with Sarah Jean and the other guards who "just wallpaper." is a reference of the SNL skit "Jail Scene" with Woody Harrelson.

Edited October 23, 2024

[pervysenpaix]

What abt Piercer!Katsuki who sees that ur nips aren't hard enough so he helps u out by playing with them which turns into him sucking on them and his hand rubbing ur clit through ur underwear. And we cant forget Piercer!Kiri who has to thank you for distracting Katsuki for him because he was late. Thats how you end up between both men, legs and holes spread being fucked stupid.

A/N: i- I this took a turn. It's slightly different from what you requested and a little longer than expected but hey "When in Rome" right? I realized how long it was starting to get so I condensed the ending a bit. I hope you like it.

tw! dubcon ? [ i don't think so but it's questionable so just to be safe] , degrading , dumbification, mentions of blood (piercing), nipple play, spit-roasting, established KRBK, aged up characters

18+ NSFW Content| MDNI

It was almost comical how sweet you looked sitting in the 90's grunge inspired lobby of HotRocks! Tattoo & Piercing Parlor, a joint venture between high school friends. Looking oh so cute in the in the oversized sweater that was tucked into a pleated pink skirt. Thigh-highs forming indentions on your skin, making the fat bulge to the top in an oh-so appetizing manner. Bakugo had to bite his lip to refrain from commenting on how cute you were. Didn't want to scare you off when Kirishima spent so much time reeling you in and getting you comfortable during your consultation. Ensuring that your first time would be virtually painless. His needle would be in and out and the only indication that he'd ever been there would be a trickle of blood and a shiny set of balls adorned to your skin.

Bakugo remembers just how wide your eyes got as the innuendo settled. Pulling at the hem of your skirt and trying to look anywhere but the two sets of red visionaries, one vermillion and one crimson, locked on your face.

"Hey, if it's any consolation, I think you'd look so cute with those little nips pierced". Heat flooded your cheeks, nodding dumbly as you signed all the consent forms and scheduled your appointment for the following week.

Now, you're here. All alone in this quiet shop with a man who hasn't said a word since you arrived, but won't stop staring at you.

"i-is Kirishima gonna be here soon?" His ears perked at the sound of your voice. Soft and sweet, just like your pretty face. and probably your pussy. The blonde shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he rounded the counter. "Fucker's probably still sleepin' after the poundin' I gave 'em last night". His brazenness had you coughing, chocking on your own spit. The blonde quirked a brow, leaning in and dropping a heavy hand on your back while barking a harsh , "you good?" As if he didn't just casually mention his sexual ventures to a stranger.

He lingered in your space a bit longer than necessary. Cologne a heady mixture of caramel and sandalwood. It was dizzying paired with the way his fiery orbs held you.

"Sure you're okay, Princess? Don't need 'ya passing out when you get poked".

Your little gasp shouldn't have signaled his cock to twitch in his jeans but it did. The thought of other sounds he'd hear if toyed with your stupid little twat.

"Want me to do 'ya ?" Another gasp suggested that your mind had also been wandering. "Huh?!" you squeaked, swallowing thickly as you drunk in the sight of him. A 6'5 ash blonde god , chiseled body decorated with beautiful patterns of black ink. More than a few piercings adorned his face. Spider bites on the left side of his bottom lip. A silver hoop through his nostril. Several piercings on his ears, but the kicker was the shiny red tongue ring that he played with absentmindedly. Rolling it in out of his mouth. It was distracting..

"m'not Kirishima, he's better with first-timers, but you'll be ok, huh? not a crybaby, are ya ?" he sneered, pinching the fat of your cheeks.

A shameful tingle danced in your nether regions from his condescending tone. The nerve of him being so mean, but you were determined to prove him wrong. Blinking away the tears that were already forming from his harsh grip on your face.

"I can take it" you pouted, eyeing him defiantly but confidence waning when he leaned closer smirking.

"I'll be the judge of that."

You sat stiffly on the table as Bakugo stood with his back to you, silently sterilizing his equipment and popping on black gloves in surgical fashion.

"Alright" he sighed, turning towards you and leaning against the table, "Let's see what ya got." Offering no further explanation other than an upward motion with two fingers pointed in your direction.

He must mean-

"Show me your tits, Princess" An eyeroll but he was anything but annoyed. You were so cute and innocent, looking up at him with big doe eyes and a wobbly lip. What even convinced you to go through with this in the first place ? "Need help?"

Big, scarred hands were sliding underneath the large sweatshirt before you even had time to respond. Fingers grazing over your skin as he removed the material. You hadn't bothered with a bra, knowing you'd be sore after. Hence the oversized sweater.

Now, you were bare chested, wearing nothing but a skimpy skirt and thigh highs. It was like something out of a porno. Especially with you trying to cover your breasts from his burning gaze. "Tch, c'mon now. None of that". His hands circled your wrists and pulled them down to your side.

"Not bad" he muses, inwardly groaning at the sight of your pebbling brown nipples. His hands slowly trail up your arms, over your shoulders and down to palm your breasts. Large hands covering them entirely. "Gonna get 'em nice and hard for me. That okay, Princess ?" Your cunt throbbed every time he said the pet name in that perfect condescending manner. Talking down to you so sweetly, like you were the dumbest and cutest thing in the world.

"'S'okay, Bakugo" His name sounded heavenly on your lips. As a reward, he brought the pads of his thumb to your darkened areolas and began rubbing tight circles. You looked absolutely adorable with your brows scrunched in concentration while biting your lip to fight the urge to moan. It felt so nice, the way he was working you over and when he pinched your nub between fingers you couldn't help but whimper.

"Good girrrll-" he drawled, slotting closer between your legs. He could feel the heat from your core against his stomach. Damp material making a mess of his band tee. "Don't be embarrassed. Keep makin' them pretty sounds for me. Feels good, yeah?"

"Y-yeah" you mewled, tongue darting out to wet your plump lips. It was hard to tell which ones were more enticing. The glossy ones pulled into a pout as he tweaked your nipples or the ones that'd swallowed your thong and were currently drooling against his abs.

Why not have both ?

The blondes lips smashed against yours just as his hand snaked between your thighs. He pulled the material hard against your clit, side to side, as he licked into your mouth and massaged your tongue. Even though you were shocked and startled you didn't pull away. Actually wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

"Good fuckin' girl" His head fell to your shoulder. Sucking bruises onto your throat and collarbone before taking your bud into his mouth. You flinched when you felt the first vibrations of his tongue ring but quickly succumbed to the pleasure. Lewd moans so loud that you'd failed to notice the jingle of keys and soft chuckling.

"Nice of you to get her prepped for me, Bakubabe".

Your eyes fluttered open to take in the site of the massive, 6'7', Kirishima snapping on a pair of black gloves. Long hair pulled up in a high, messy bun that left ruby strands framing his tanned face. Wearing a skimpy Crimson Riot tank top with the sides cut and ripped black jeans. Like his blonde boyfriend his body was littered with tattoos, some dark and ominous, others brightly colored and bold. Perhaps an ode to his multifaceted personality. He also had most of the same piercings with he addition of a golden hoop over his scarred brow and shark bites in contrast to Bakugo's snakes.

He looked absolutely sinful and the dangerous grin he wore had you clenching your thighs around the blonde.

"Took ya long enough, dumbass. Thought I was gonna break her in" Spit soaked lips brushing your peaks with each word. "No way, man" the redhead beamed, "I've been thinkin' about popping her cherry for days". A pleasurable tingle shot down to your cunt making you squeeze his waist tighter. "Fuck you're a needy little thing aren't ya?" You whimpered, equal parts embarrassed and aroused, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

"Fuuuck-- she's cute" Kirishima groaned, adjusting the tent in his pants. He was hoping that your session would've ended like this but he never expected Bakugo to take the initiative. Good for him. He approached, standing shoulder to shoulder with the snarky blonde that was pinching your nipples. "Eyes on me, babygirl" your head lifted immediately, and your obedience only added to their growing arousal. "Alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna stick you now and it's gonna hurt for a bit , but I promise I'll make you feel real good after. Sound good?" You nodded, giving him a shy smile that he returned with his signature grin.

"Good girl".

Words couldn't describe how beautiful you looked as the two men fucked into you. Tears falling from your rolled back eyes and drool spilled from the sides of your mouth while Kirishima shoved his length into your heat. Running his big hands over your throat to rest against the bulge and pressing down to add more pressure on his cock. You could barely breathe and the blonde's explosive thrusts that slammed your body forward didn't help. Groping at the fat of your breasts, far enought to not upset the piercing, but just close enough that it brought a confusing mix of pain and pleasure. Your pussy squelched obscenely, wetness dripping from your sopping core onto the table. "Such a messy girl" Kirishima cooed, "Should make you lick that up". A low groan rumbled from Katsuki's chest , "sh-shit fuck! squeezin' me so tight. you like that, huh ? nasty little bitch". It could've been his words, the sloppy thrusting, the fingers pinching your clit, Eijiro squeezing your throat or maybe a combination of it all, but something had you screaming as best you could with a cock down your throat, and squirting all over the blonde. They both spilled inside you, thick sticky ribbons of white that painted your insides. Breathless and exchanging silent grins as they looked down at your fucked out state. Probably couldn't remember your own name at this point. Which was fine for them, all you needed to think about was getting you cute little cunt split for a second time. And maybe your ass too.

@xogabbiexo, @yo-nn, @bookwormsenpai, @plussizeficchick, @38riku, @7inaa, @simpliheavenli, @blkchxrryblyss, @nasty-quillz, @namjoonswifeyy, @tenyaiidasslut @presidentmonica , @hhawkz

[bratz-kitten]

Nikola Stojanovic’s degree theory 

— you can learn more about his theory here and here. he was the maker of this theory, i’m simply passing the knowledge i’ve researched on him in a more simplified way!!! trigger warning for mentions of death and violence for the 11º, the 15º, the 18º and the 22º degrees 

according to nikola’s research, each degree is connected to the sign it rules: 

aries degrees — 1º, 13º, 25º - taking action, fighting spirit, not giving oneself up to fate, struggle, war, can indicate abuse, labor, diligence, leadership, beginnings, etc

taurus degrees — 2º, 14º, 26º - money, food, the earth, stability, luxuries, voice, singing, etc

gemini degrees — 3º, 15º, 27º - communication, gadgets like televisions or phones, self-expression, books, siblings, neighbourhood, etc

cancer degrees — 4º, 16º, 28º - home, nurture, traditions, loyalty, faith, mother, water, etc

leo degrees — 5º, 17º, 29º - attention, life, fame, light, children, creativity, self-expression, monarchs, entertainment, strength, hair, etc

virgo degrees — 6º, 18º - to diminish, to make smaller, improvement, health, work, routine, pets, to be of service, etc

libra degrees — 7º, 19º - fairness, law, business, partnerships, fashion, beauty, charm, luxury items, music, art, etc

scorpio degrees — 8º, 20º - the 8º specifically is connected to death, wealth, to take from others, manifestation, secrets, insurance, sex, jealousy, pregnancy, etc

sagittarius degrees — 9º, 21º - abundance, expansion, wisdom, college, travelling, to explore, etc

capricorn degrees — 10º, 22º - to take control, public attention, coldness, fear, depression, rationality, ambition, father, etc

aquarius degrees — 11º, 23º - divorce, surprises, high places, high tech, new technology, humanitarianism, organizations, friends, networking, etc

pisces degrees — 12º, 24º - sleeping, drugs, alcohol, lethargy, the unconcious + our psyche, emotional dejections, feet, madness, shadows, unclear, endings, etc

0º represents the basic characteristic of the sign - it acts in its purest form. for example, if you have the 0º in aries sun, aries here acts in its most potent, pure way. 

that way, if you, for example, have your ascendant in pisces at the 13º, you’ll express aries characteristics + all that is connected to taking action, to fight. now, knowing this, this theory can manifest itself in different ways. 

i’m going to give an example that he talked about in his website that i found simple to understand yet powerful. when nikola was discussing with another astrologer, he wanted to talk about his degree theory, so he took a look at the birth chart of the wife of the other astrologer, and after a minute of analyzing it, he said as follows: “Your wife called a carpenter to the house and ordered a larger bed to be made. When the carpenter had finished the job, you went to bed and realized that the work was not properly done. One measure was right – the bed was long enough - but the other one wasn't – the bed wasn't wide enough, it was still narrow”. the look the other astrologer gave him told him that his brief analysis was absolutely correct.

his reasoning behind it was that the wife’s 12th house (which rules sleeping, beds, bedrooms) cusp began at the 21º of aries, and the ruler of that house, mars, was at the 6º in virgo. aries simbolizes to create and the 21º, a sagittarius degree, simbolizes to enlarge. so, his wife wanted to create (aries) a larger (sagittarius/jupiter) bed (the 12th house). because mars, the ruler of the 12th house, was placed in virgo (someone who renders services, a worker), she called the carpenter to the house. her mars was, however, in virgo at the 6º which is a virgo degree (virgo simbolizes diminishing, making smaller), which meant the measure of the bed had to be smaller than needed. therefore, the cusp of the 12th house (the bed) at the 21º (sagittarius - larger, longer) signifies that the bed was both long enough (enlarged), and mars in virgo at a virgo degree (6º) meant that it was not wide enough (it was narrow). nikola established connections between degrees, the signs, the planets and the houses where they fell and the aspects that they made in order to make this kind of predictions. 

he also found a few degrees to be connected to significant things. 

THE 2º DEGREE - SUPREME POWER 

nikola, through the research of the birth charts of many people throughout history, observed how those who contained planets, houses and aspects (+lunar nodes, arabic parts, vertex and of course, the four cardinal points: the IC, MC, AC and DC) in the 2º degree were those who made remarkable achievements, who wielded extreme power and were highly respected. he got to this conclusion by analyzing the birth chart of queen victoria - other rulers at the time had more powerful aspects than she did, but allas, they weren’t the ones to almost rule the entire world - it was her, so he began noticing the pattern between power and the 2º. literal jesus himself had his mercury in pisces in the 2º. i myself have four degrees at 2º, so it’s nice to know my dreams of starting a revolution, overthrowing the government and achieving world domination are supported by the astros

THE 5º DEGREE - EROTICISM 

this degree is connected to beauty, desire, sex appeal, receiving sexual attention. many sex icons like marilyn monroe, jean harlow and mata hari had it present in their birth chart. nikola talks about this being the best degree in his eyes. considering that it’s a leo degree, it’s all about living, having fun and enjoying life. 

THE 11º DEGREE - DIVORCE / SUICIDE 

both the 11º and 23º degrees of aquarius indicate divorce, but, according to nikola, the 11º is connected to suicide.

THE 15º DEGREE - CAR ACCIDENTS 

this degree, when connected to scorpio + the 8th house, can indicate car accidents.  

THE 18º DEGREE - PURE EVIL 

simbolizes a bad destiny. to nikola, this is the worst degree you can have. it can indicate rare deseases, tragic accidents. he says there’s no good about this degree but i absolutely disagree. not to be a hopeless optimist or to pretend to possess half the knowledge that he does but i think it’s pretentious to assume that a degree is literally all bad and that there’s nothing we can do about it — that takes away from our free will and our inner strength. Many, many people have this degree present in their charts (i believe nikola had it himself), it’s all about facing hardships but, well, that’s life.

THE 22º DEGREE - TO KILL OR BE KILLED 

nikola has found this degree in the birth charts of murderers + people that were murdered. his significance of “to kill or be killed” is quite literal. now, i want to remind you that this is the worst case scenario and that this degree can manifest itself in many diferent ways - just like the 18º and the 8º. the death can be figurative. for example, donald trump’s chart: he has his sun in 22º, and his mercury in 8º - and I’m afraid he’s quite alive at his old age and kicking it, even if he’s suffered a public destruction. @saintzjenx in her degree theory post talked about how this placement can also indicate abandonment. i agree, i have my sun at 22º in the 10th house (the house of the father) and my father was very emotionally absent + physically as well (his work has him working at other cities during the entire week) 

THE 29º DEGREE - CLAIRVOYANCE/PROGNOSTICISM 

the 29º indicates someone with clairvoyant potential, someone who makes accurate predictions, with great intuition. it’s to note that nikola himself had a 29º in his chart, and that he became known for the predictions he made using the degree theory (for example, he predicted that america would have its first black president ten years before barack obama was elected). but he does like to say that he has absolutely no intuition, though - what prompted him to study the degrees was his virgo rising, acording to him, his need to study and put his brain to work. still, he observed how many clairvoyants had this degree. other astrologers talk about this being a degree that means destruction (and when you analyze trump’s birth chart and how he has his ascendant and his 11th house at the 29º, you can very much argue about the truth behind that theory) but all in all, nikola talks about this degree as benefic. 

in case you’re feeling bad, remember i have the to kill or be killed 22º, plus the 8º of death, plus the 11º of suicide, plus the 23º of divorce, plus two of the 18º of pure evil! let’s suffer together besties. on the upside i have four of the 2º so we riding to eternal glory! 

but now seriously, i know some of this is very hard bc obviously life isn’t all fun and games but. remember that we all have free will, life isn’t determined and having a lot of these in your chart doesn’t mean impending doom!! i have them and i’m very much kicking it and i’m not intending to stop. it’s all about acceptance, learning how to work with even the worst degrees in order to make the best out of them. plus, the degrees can manifest themselves in a lot of different ways and a lot more matters than just them being present - like the signs that they’re in, the aspects with which they make and how harsh they are, the house where they fall etc etc. 

please do take your time to read through his website + to watch the interviews nikola did on youtube!! he was an amazing astrologer whose theory greatly impacted the way astrology is studied today. he’s fun to learn from, too, which is a plus

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Helping Hands- Part 4

Pairing: Elliot (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: Reader starts to feel even more comfortable in her sexuality, especially from the responses she gets from her loving boyfriend every time she initiates something. This time, he's a bit skeptical about the idea, but she's adamant that she wants to learn how to make him feel good.

Song: "Vampire" by Dominic Fike

Warnings: Smut 18+ and pure fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I loved this, like, unintentional series lol. I hope you guys enjoyed and just know I'm still taking requests! One more planned part after this one! Also I'm sorry, the gif below just seemed a little to accurate given the content of this one.

Part 1* Part 2* Part 3*

It was pretty safe to say that Elliot loved my new found sex drive.

He was ten times more clingy now, his hands always touching me in some way or another. He just loved to be close to me, especially with our new found intimacy. He was sweet, more so than before. The way that he tended to me, went out of his way to help me feel good even if it meant sacrificing his own pleasure for a bit, he did it. He didn't mind the nights where I was simply not up for anything, and I felt the same about him.

There was always zero pressure. No need to perform or put on a happy face to make the other person feel good. Elliot liked when I was happy with whatever it was that I was doing, you could say that carried over into our sex lives too.

We were adventurous for the most part. We had probably done it everywhere in his room, on every surface. We attempted a few times to figure out shower sex but we decided it was too involved. We had romantic sessions in the bath, though. Those were probably my favorite times over the last few months. The bubbles, the warmth, him so close to me, holding onto me.

But there was one thing I wanted to try. That we hadn't even brought up yet. And how I was going to go about bringing it up, who knows.

I mean, it seemed easy to do. The male anatomy was pretty cut and dry when it comes to pleasure. At least, that's what I thought.

"You okay, babydoll?" Elliot whispers, his hand rubbing up and down my back as we wander through the party. I give him a stern nod, my lips fanning out into a soft smile as I look up at him. He grins, his lips leaning down to press against the side of my head. I watch him as he talks to Rue, his face lighting up as his hand moves with his words. I slip my arm around his back, my head leaning against his shoulder as I sink into his presence. He looked unbelievably good tonight, just a simple tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Nothing special, but it made me want to jump his bones here and now. I think he could tell that I wanted him from the moment that I sat down in his car, a small knowing smirk on his beautiful lips. "You wanna go somewhere quiet?" Elliot asks abruptly, his eyes flickering over my body as I tilt my head teasingly at him. What does he mean by that? He smirks softly, my head turning to realize Rue isn't there anymore and that he had noticed my wandering gazes. "Come on, baby." He whispers, patting back before I follow him, his fingers intertwining with mine as he leads me throughout the sea of people.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask with a grin, his eyes flickering over his should to look at me. He shrugs with an evil grin, his eyes shining with mischief. He opens the door to the right of us, slipping into the room with me following closely behind. He shuts the door with me against it, his lips immediately attaching to mine as my fingers fumble with the lock.

Breathlessly, his lips detach from mine to trail down my chin and to my neck. He leaves open mouthed kisses along the heated skin, my hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. He moans quietly at the feeling, slipping my dress up as his hands wander to my ass. He pulls me against him, unforgivingly hard as I gasp. My head falls back against the wall with a thump, his quiet laugh echoing in the small room. Before he can move again, I stop him, my hand gently resting on his chest as I catch my breath.

"I wanna do something." I whisper, with a small laugh knowing the words couldn't be more vague if I tried. His eyebrows raise teasingly at me, his hands moving to rest on my waist. "I wanna make you feel good this time." I offer, his eyes widening as the words get stuck in his throat.

"Uh, you mean-"

"Yeah, Elliot, I wanna suck your dick." I reply crudely, cutting him off as his jaw drops. He tucks his lip between his teeth as he lets out a small laugh, his head bobbing in a quiet nod.

"Here?" He squeaks, nodding my head as I smirk. Elliot looks genuinely shocked, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed as he looks at me. I can tell by the way that he's looking between my eyes that he's trying to see if I'm bullshitting him. But I couldn't lie to him if I wanted to. "Yeah- okay. Shit." Elliot mutters as he stumbles back, bumping into the washing machine behind him. I grin as I walk towards him, my hands dragging down his chest to rest on the top of his jeans.

"You're gonna have to guide me. I have little clue what I'm doing." I snort, my lips pressing against his cheek as he scoffs.

"Yeah, baby, I'll help you suck my dick." He deadpans, my eyes rolling as my fingers trail down, resting over the tent in his pants. His breath stutters a bit as I trace my fingers along the outline of the zipper, his eyes flickering down to the movement. "Okay, on your knees." I giggle at his strained order, my knees lowering to rest on the carpet in front of him. He looks down at me, his fingers tracing against my cheek gently as I grin. I work quietly at undoing his belt, pulling his jeans down to his ankles as he throws his head back. I lean forward, pressing my lips against his hip bones, my lips trailing along the sensitive skin above his briefs. He moans, his hands gripping against the washer as his hips jump. I tuck my fingers into the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down as he hisses the cold air.

Wrapping my fingers around him, he whimpers at the feeling of me. Moving my hand up and down slowly, I test the waters as his eyes flicker down to me, a small smile on his lips. I gently lean forward, taking his tip between my lips with a small hum. Kind of like porn, right? Cuz that's what I'm going off of. His jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut as I take him a bit deeper, loving the look on his face as he curses quietly under his breath.

"I'm not gonna lie, if you keep doing that, I'm going to cum." He mutters, my lips hollowing around him as his head falls forward, a moan leaving his lips. "Fucking shit, Y/n." He whispers, my hands working whatever I can't fit in my mouth, my head bobbing gently and consistently. I speed up as his moans get louder and more consistent, his whines driving me on as his knuckles turn white. "Jus' like that." He whimpers, my thighs aching and I'm sure my panties are completely ruined by now. He hunches forward a bit, his lips twitching a bit as he grows closer and closer, my lips leaving him.

"You gonna cum?" I ask innocently, my eye lashes batting up at him as he laughs, his eyes fluttering shut once more. He nods silently so I keep up my actions, my lips finding him again as my tongue circles his tip. I notice as his breathing speeds up, small gasps and whimpers leaving his lips.

"Fuck, where should I-" I cut him off, my hands leaving him to pull down the straps of my dress, exposing my breasts with a sly smile. He nods breathlessly, watching as my hands return to him, pumping quickly as I drag my tongue along the vein on the underside of his dick. He moans out, his fingers reaching out to tangle in my hair, the feeling making me moan. I grin, watching as his lips jolt forward as he falls over the edge. The hot, sticky substance lands on my chest as I edge him through his high, not minding the mess but focused on the way that his face twists up in pleasure.

After a few moments, he gasps, batting my hands away from him with a hiss. "Sorry, too much." He whispers breathlessly, his eyes flickering down to my painted chest as his eyes widen. "Holy fucking shit. I'm never going to be able to get that out of my mind. Like, ever." He groans, his hands reaching up to rub over his face. I stand up carefully, my hands reaching over to grab the paper towels off the rack, cleaning up my chest.

He watches me carefully with a smirk, reaching down to pull his pants back up. I giggle bashfully as I wipe my lower lip, trying my best to pat down my messy hair. It would be obvious to anyone what we just did, between his flushed cheeks, the hollow look in his eyes and my messy hair. Yeah, we were a dead give away.

Elliot reaches out, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulls me into a kiss, not caring where my lips were just moments ago. He cups my cheek softly, his lips smacking against mine in loving kisses. I grin as I wrap my arms around his neck.

"So it was good?" I ask meekly, my head moving to tuck into his shoulder. He lets out a small scoff, his lips resting against my forehead as he grins.

"Fucking amazing."

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

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart

Euphoria Taglist:@ssprayberrythings @username-lols

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!

six months ago...

Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.

But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.

The latch turned and you opened it.

Fuck.

You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.

You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.

You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.

Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.

Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.

He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?

But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.

He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.

Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.

He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.

At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.

But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.

You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.

He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.

“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.

“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.

He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”

“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”

“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”

He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”

“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”

“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”

He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.

"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.

“Something like that,” you mitigated.

His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.

It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.

“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”

He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”

He believed you this time, finally.

For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.

He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)

So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.

Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.

“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.

And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”

Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.

You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.

Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”

Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.

You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.

It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.

He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.

To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.

But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.

six months later...

He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.

“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.

After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.

“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.

“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”

You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.

“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”

“They’re just so… bland!”

“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.

“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”

“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”

“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.

Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.

You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.

There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.

He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?

You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.

“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.

“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.

“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”

It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.

He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.

Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.

After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.

He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

“James.”

It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.

And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”

[wakaoujisenhime]

Aomine, kise, and Akashi with their s/o using their safe word? Maybe a short fic for each?

A/N: you got it (•̀ᴗ•́ )و …also please excuse my lack in creativity concerning the safeword, I sadly had no better and serious-sounding one than ‘RED’ .-. and I wrote this from a fem!reader’s perspective since I wasn’t sure which one you were referring to! Make sure to get back at me if you wanted it from a different perspective!! ♥️

Tags/Warnings: smut (18+!!) ✅ rough sex (in form of insufficient prep) ✅ ❚ overstimulation ✅ ❚ BDSM play ✅ shibari/bondage ✅ use of blindfold ✅ spanking ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kise:

You knew that you should’ve insisted on talking with Kise.

The moment he came home you could already guess that something had happened and that his mood was down in the dumps. Usually, he would grin at you, hurriedly throw his shoes and jacket away, and then proceed to shower you with kisses, but today was different…

Today he’d come in and pretty much whispered that he was home, his movements were pretty sluggish, and even when you’d ran up to him the smile he gave you was barely noticeable. You were pretty quick in understanding that something had happened, so you immediately asked him about it, but he just shook his head in denial and reassured you that everything was alright and that you shouldn’t worry.

You decided to let it go for the time being and see how the evening played out, but unfortunately for you, there was no progress. Eventually, you decided to use your plan B: getting the truth out of him with sex.

He was one of those types that first needed some buttering up before they were ready to spill the beans and one of many ways - and the quickest - you succeeded in doing that was through bodily intimacy.

You had wrapped your arms around his neck from behind and started kissing his neck, whispering sweet nothings along his skin. It took a tad longer than usual for him to relax and indulge himself in your caresses, but things eventually took their course, and within a matter of minutes he’d taken over.

It felt amazingly good at first, the way his gentle hands roamed your body, exploring, experimenting, observing your reactions as he searched for your weak spots. The way your breath hitched when he began to play with your exposed nipples, paired with the slight tremble of your body as he let his fingers slide along your skin fired him up.

He’d soon gotten on top of you and while his mouth and tongue were busy pleasuring your chest’s sensitive buds, his fingers were preparing your lower body for what’s to follow…and that’s when it all went wrong.

Usually, he’d take his time to prepare you thoroughly with his fingers and his mouth. The way he enjoyed the slight thrashing of your body when he intentionally rubbed his fingertip against your g-spot never failed to make him smile proudly and your sweet moans when his tongue’s tip circled your puffy clit was the cherry on top. Next to making you feel good he also teased you occasionally. You like it like that, right? Hm? Is it here (Y/N)-cchi? You’re so cute you know that? You never told him, but his words never failed to increase the already intense pleasure you were receiving.

But today, after making out with you for a short while, he’d laid you down on your bed, raised your shirt up, freeing your breasts that he then kissed and pinched a few times before shifting his attention to your lower body. Once your panties were off you watched him lick two of his fingers and proceeded to stretch you, only problem was that after what felt like half a minute he pulled back and began unbuttoning his jeans, seemingly ready to move on.

You tensed up a little and tried to analyze the meaning of his rather absentminded facial expression. Many thoughts crossed your mind, such as him planning on having dry sex with you or just using his cock to get you wetter, but as soon as you felt his tip against your entrance, your mind went blank.

One of your hands stretched out towards the young man’s chest, planning on pushing him back a little, but a sharp pain made you freeze up on the spot. With wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the painful way your walls were being stretched apart. Your free hand took a tight grip on the bed sheets, while the one on Kise’s chest ended up scratching his skin and even managed to draw some blood. All of these wordless pleas went unnoticed, your boyfriend’s attention was elsewhere but despite that, he didn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth.

The pain gradually faded away but didn’t disappear completely and slowly but surely it became unbearable for you. Despite wanting to groan in pain, you bit the inner side of your cheek and began stuttering: “R-Ryou, wait please!”

Your voice was hoarse and slightly raspy from forcing back your pained moans so it barely managed to reach the young man’s ears. After vainly trying for a few more times you needed to resort to more drastic measures, so you moved both of your hands up to Kise’s face, taking a tight hold of his cheeks.

“Kise Ryouta! Red!”

The combination of his full name and the safeword both of you had agreed upon just in case, finally succeeded in catching his attention.

His eyes widened slowly as he realized what was going on. You're tensed up and slightly sweaty body beneath him, the pulsating pain in his chest, the almost painful tightness of your rather dry walls, and the most agonizing image for him: your pale face and slightly reddened lips.

Panic contorted his earlier calm facial features and he immediately pulled out, causing you to hiss at this unexpected motion.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)-cchi, I-I’m so so sorry, I–…god…h-how could this happen? W-What did I…what did I d-do?”

The tremble in his voice caused him to stutter as his shaking hands ran along your body in order to make sure that he hadn’t hurt you in any other way. His fingertips barely made contact with your skin, because he was afraid of touching you in some kind of way that could harm you any further. It was obvious that your usage of the safeword had shaken him up, even more than you’d expected, but this was your only option at that time…

With a sad smile, you took his hands in yours, brought them up to your lips, and kissed his knuckles, the sudden gesture making him flinch.

“Ryouta…do I now have your attention?” you softly asked, your kind tone moving him to tears as he ever so carefully embraced you and started apologizing multiple times. The earlier pain might not have been completely gone, but that was secondary, now you caressed the blond head that was buried in the crack of your neck, wet tears dripping down from your collarbone to your chest. In between your lover’s sobs you silently reassured and lectured him about how he shouldn’t go along with your antics if he wasn’t up for it.

When Kise had calmed down he finally raised his head to face you, his snotty and tear-stained face making you smile, as he once again begged for your forgiveness, promising you that the next time his mood was off he’d talk to you about it instead of bottling it up. Knowing that he was a man of his words you nodded proudly and gave his lips a tender kiss.

“Now then…ready for a second attempt?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Aomine:

Being Aomine’s lover was like a rollercoaster ride, at times he could be the person of your dreams while on others he was an unbearable asshole. Even though his attitude managed to make you see red ever so often, it also made your sexual life spicier.

He was a beast in bed, who managed to push you beyond your limits every single time. There was no such thing as can’t for him.

You can’t get into a certain position? He’ll make sure to mold your body into the position he wants you to be, regardless of how flexible you are or aren’t.

You can’t take his teasing anymore and want him to penetrate you? Sorry sweetheart but you’ll have to wait until he’s up for it and until then you’re free to beg and whine about it, providing him with further music to his ears.

You can’t hold your orgasm back any longer and want to cum? Telling him that is a bad move really because the moment he hears that he’ll grin to himself and stop all movements, wait for your body to calm down despite your numerous pleas, and resume only when he’s confident that you’re far away from reaching your high.

And it was precisely because of these past experiences that the two of you had agreed upon a safeword that you were to use only when things went too far. Both you and Aomine were confident that such a time wouldn’t come, until today…

While you were folding the laundry, your lover was in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes you’d more or less had to force him to do. Upon remembering his pouty face you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself, not noticing the tall young man creep up behind you with a mischievous grin.

“Got you!” he called out as he wrapped his arms around your body and pressed himself towards your back. You were caught off guard for a split second but decided to indulge his playfulness as a ‘reward’ for doing the dishes, but your lover unexpectedly took your well-meant intention out of proportion…

“Daiki…w-wait!” you manage to stammer out, your shaky hand gently slapping against the back of the bigger hand that’s hooked around your rib cage. Without fulfilling your request the man behind you keeps the thrust of his hips steady, as he palms your left breast and kneads it.

His slightly chapped lips run along the slight curve of your neck and pepper it with sloppy kisses. You flinch as you feel his other hand slide down your body, heading straight for your clit, and without wasting another second, starts massaging it.

Your vision gets blurry as you feel his rough finger mercilessly draw circles on your already sensitive bud and your moans grow louder as he bottoms out deep inside of you, the slapping of his balls further amplifying the squelching noise echoing in the room. All you can do is cling to him as you feel the knot inside you slowly tightening and dreading to burst any second from all the ministrations.

“You gonna cum?” he asks in a low whisper while nibbling on your ear. You bite your lower lip and nod multiple times as you squeeze your eyes shut and ready yourself for your orgasm.

The moment your walls squeezed down on Aomine’s shaft it made him shudder in pleasure and groan out a silent that’s it as he slowed down his hips’ thrusts, letting you indulge in your orgasm. His deep blue eyes fondly observed the way your body twitched and the slight tremble of your thighs against his own made him tighten his grip around you. While you were still trying to recover from the intense wave of pleasure that had shaken you, you felt how your boyfriend’s cock hardened inside of you, but before you could call out to him, the man took a fistful of your hair and pushed your face down on the pile of folded clothes before you.

He resumed his earlier thrusting speed, but thanks to the slight change in positions he managed to hit the entrance to your womb every single time his hips collided with your soft behind. Truth be told, when Aomine saw you - the person he loved so much - cum that hard by his hands it flipped a switch inside of him. The young man was usually holding many of his kinks and desires back out of worry for the consequences they’d have on your body, but right now all these worries had disappeared and were replaced by a single thought.

I’ll give her an orgasm that will mess her up

You felt an enormous weight push your back further into the mattress, your legs were spread apart, pulled back, and trapped beneath muscular calves. Something told you that whatever was about to happen it wasn’t going to be pleasant, so before your lover began you reached back, searching for his hand and whispering out his name in a slightly trembling voice.

Whatever your intention was, it was completely ignored by your boyfriend, because the moment he heard the silent call of his name he began to downright fuck you as if there was no tomorrow. Your eyes widened at the fast speed at which you were spread apart and the way his body had pinned you to the bed provided you with further friction that made you tear up.

You wished you could say that it felt good, but that might have been the case on another day where you hadn’t cum as hard as you did a few minutes ago. Right now you were in pain. Every thrust forward made your stomach tense up painfully, while each graze of the bedsheets against your abused clit made you jump; you were just so sensitive from before that anything Aomine did, made you shudder and jump as if he was throwing ice-cold water at your burning skin.

Even when you loudly pleaded with him to wait or stop, he seemingly didn’t hear you and kept going. So with not much of a choice left, you tried pushing yourself back against him, your safeword escaping your lips. ”Aomine, stop! Red! Red!“

And just like that all of his movements seized almost immediately, the weight on your back was lifted in an instant, and you were carefully pulled up right into the man’s muscular arms. He didn’t have to say anything, the tight hold around your sore body was enough to get the message across.

You relaxed against his chest and let your head drop on his shoulder as you finally granted your body a well-deserved break from all the over-stimulation. Only when you felt better did you wrap your arms around him.

“…’m sorry (Y/N)” he mumbled against your head in an unusually regretful and pained tone. Having you use the safeword the two of you had agreed upon was something neither of you thought would happen and now that it did, it was quite shocking.

You closed your eyes and planted a soft kiss on his neck, your hand moving up to the back of his head and gently ruffled his slightly sweaty hair.

“It’s ok Daiki, just…just let me rest for a bit next time before going all out like that, ok?”

He leaned back to look into your eyes and sniffled silently, before nodding a few times and giving you a peck on the lips.

Akashi:

Being as perfectionistic as Akashi was in nearly everything proved to be good in certain situations, though truth be told, the young man had bettered himself and was now less hard on himself than before, mainly thanks to you.

In the first few months of your relationship with him, everything was going perfectly well, including your sexual life. He was very attentive and always listened to any worry or topic you had on your mind, not only that but he was also very quick to pick up whenever something didn’t sit well with you. The best example of such a moment was when you’d first started having sex with each other.

Everything was, as expected, perfect but as time went on you felt like something was missing. It just wasn’t enough, you thought and it took you a while to bring it up and when you finally did things turned out to be unexpectedly different.

“Just use the safeword whenever you feel like it’s becoming too much for you or when you’re uncomfortable or anything of that sort, ok?” he softly asks as he tightens the last knot of the red rope around your body, watching you nod in agreement.

The young man took a few steps back to admire his handiwork and deeply breathed in as he pulled out a thin black fabric from one of the shelves. His slender and slightly rough hands brought the fabric around your face and before robbing you of your vision completely, he wanted to confirm the safeword one last time.

“What do you say when you want me to stop?”

“…red” you answered in a silent but firm voice, your response earning you a gentle kiss on the nape of your neck before everything went dark.

The silence and darkness that surrounded you, made you so nervous that you could practically hear the way your heart thumped against your bosom. Your breathing quickened and caused the ropes to practically bore into your skin with each lift of your chest. When you felt the gentle hands of your beloved trail down your back it made goosebumps adorn your skin and you slightly shivered at the prickling sensation.

Just as you’d gotten used to it, the warmth left your back and with your heightened senses, you listened to the faint steps of the red-haired young man who yet again turned around to pull something out of the drawer once more. While Akashi was doing that you tried to get a better feel for the ropes that were constraining your movements, so you wiggled slightly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to move around now did I?” you heard a low voice mutter behind you and before you could apologize you felt something cold hit your exposed butt. You yelped out in surprise and instinctively attempted to raise your hand to cover your mouth, but the ropes stopped you mid-movement, their rough structure leaving faint marks behind.

After that failed attempt you began to take slow but deep breaths, ignoring the tight feeling surrounding your body. That’s when you felt the object Akashi had spanked you with touch your back and trace your spine’s curve with the leathery surface.

“I trust you’ll behave so that I don’t have to do that again” he cooed next to your ear, kissing it gently while eagerly awaiting your response.

Being in control was nothing new to the young man and it usually didn’t mean much, but now that the person he loved was at the palm of his hands, leaving both their vision and body entirely to him gave him a new sense of power he’d never felt before. His hands were trembling with excitement and just the mere thought of all the possibilities that this little play had in store for you made the tent in his pants feel tighter than before.

Not receiving an answer for that short while during which he fantasized about the upcoming pleasure and sweet pain he’d provide you with, made him a tad impatient, so he brought his arm around your body and teasingly tugged on the knot between your breasts while his other hand lifted the black leather belt from your back and prepared for another spank.

“So you’re not going to answer, huh?”

spank

You tensed your muscles and bit your lower lip as you felt the object hit your buttocks for a second time, but instead of the same tingling sensation from before it hurt, and whenever the cold air around you made contact with your reddened skin it burned so bad that it knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you behind panting and gasping for air.

Mentally you were still stuck at the first time he spanked you, his unexpected words and the surprising roughness he treated you with were still stuck in your mind.

Was that really the same Akashi who treated you like a delicate flower during your first few times? Did he use his entire strength or is he still holding back?

Question after question poured into your mind, but before you could speak one of them aloud you were slapped yet another time.

“You must be really feeling it if you’re defying me for that long”

N-No…i-it hurts

You clenched your fists and let your nails dig into the ropes around your hands to try and cope with the pain and the way he played with your nipples wasn’t helping.

“S-Sei…w-wait”

“Hm? What was that my dear? I think you might want to speak up a little, or else I won’t know what you want” he said in a playful tone, positioning the belt on your bruised skin.

“N-No, Seijuro please!” you begged, body thrashing around, disregarding the slight sting of the ropes. You felt his gentle arms protectively wrap around your body as he leaned his chin on your shoulders and said: “(Y/N)…we agreed on something, didn’t we?”

His voice was silent but carried a certain amount of sternness that made you freeze up and look down in shame. Through gritted teeth, you whispered out the safeword and remained motionless as your lover began removing the ropes around your body. Much to your surprise, they were tighter than expected, so the moment they were loose enough for removal, you felt your blood circulation resume its course without disruption, making you feel a little weak on your knees.

“It wasn’t that hard now was it, (Y/N)?” Akashi asked as he carefully removed your blindfold and walked around you, now facing you. He let his eyes glide up and down your body, regret distorting his facial features.

“I-I’m sorry Sei, I just…I didn’t want to back out because it wa–”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know” he interrupted and caressed your cheeks before finishing what he intended to tell you, “but I told you to use our safeword if something wasn’t to your liking, didn’t I?”

You nodded and apologized to him, but you were still not looking into his eyes, only when he lifted your chin with his finger did your eyes meet. With a small smile, he gave your lips a soft kiss and smiled. “Just make sure to speak up next time, ok? I’ll never be mad at you or anything if you do…this is why we agreed on a safeword after all, right?”

A wide grin adorned your lips as you nodded energetically a few times and wrapped your arms around the neck of your boyfriend, relieved and happy that you worked it out.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Nothing But a Bet - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, cursing, sexual mentions

Summary: Bakugou and his friends were just joking around! Nobody expected Bakugou to fall in love! But what’ll happen when Y/N finds out she started off as nothing but a piece of a game to her boyfriend.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but Bakugou sure is glad with the way things turned out.

About 11 months ago, Bakugou, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Sero were messing around. The boys were making bets but once Kaminari had gone too far on the one he offered Bakugou, Kirishima called it quits and decided to back out of their little game.

Kaminari had dared Bakugou to ask out new girl on a date, be with her for a week, and not fall in love. Seemed like a simple bet. Y/N L/N, the new student, was very pretty. She was an incredible fighter but Bakugou didn’t know her enough to even call her a friend yet. All he had to do was date her for a week and not catch feelings? Seemed simple enough. And besides, if he won he would be getting Denki as a personal assistant for a month, getting him anything he wants. Bakugou was in.

The bet was simple. So simple! So how could Bakugou have failed? He couldn’t help it. Y/N was just so...perfect. She was kind and compassionate, but she also had poison on her tongue and always stood her ground. She was strong and gorgeous, and she was patient and always listened to Katsuki to help him with whatever. Throughout the first week, she was always there for Katsuki and even though she didn’t always give him what he wanted, she gave him what he needed, and that’s when he realized he needed her.

So after the first week of Bakugou and Y/N together as a couple came another..and another...and another..and another. Weeks turned to months and those months turned into almost a whole year. The couple has been dating for 11 months and was waiting for their 1 year anniversary to come right around the corner.

Bakugou was completely whipped for Y/N. He waited on her, hand and foot, and treated her like the queen she is. He loved her with his entire being and just being around the girl made him a better, happier person. He went through all the steps in a young relationship with Y/N. They were each other’s first love, first kiss, first date, first everything! Even their first time! Yup, Bakugou and Y/N had both lost their v-cards to each other and it was a night Bakugou would never forget.

And now here we are! The day of their anniversary! Y/N and Bakugou woke up in each other’s arms in Bakugou’s dorm room.

“Good morning Suki,” Y/N said with love laced in her voice. Bakugou was awake but kept his eyes shut as he pressed his forehead to Y/N’s temple and just smiled.

“G’morning Princess,” he then pecked her cheek, “happy one year,” he softly said. He pulled you in closer and you giggled at his sleepy state. You both shared a quick peck and Bakugou finally opened his eyes to stare at his beautiful princess.

“So! What’re we gonna do today?” Y/N asked with glee. As Bakugou opened his mouth to answer, his phone rang and you both looked towards it. Bakugou growled and rolled his eyes as he reached for his phone to answer. He sighed before he spoke.

“Hello?......what?! .....ugh, today of all days?” He said and looked towards Y/N with sad eyes, “C’mon! I got plans for today....no I know but-....*sigh* fine. I’ll be there in an hour.” He hung up the phone and tossed it to his night stand and he frustratingly tucked his head in Y/N’s neck and growled.

“Sooo....plans are canceled?” You said with a little hint of disappointment. Bakugou looked at you with a regretful eyes as he softly spoke.

“I’m sorry Princess, Aizawa’s calling me and Kirishima in for extra training. He planned this months ago and I told him not to put me on for today but I guess he forgot. If I don’t go in today then I don’t get to go in at all and it puts me behind. I’m sorry Y/N,” he said apologetically.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Love. I get it, and it’s fine. We’re hero trainees, we gotta be at our best,” you said with a smile. Bakugou smiled at your grin and was thankful he had someone as understanding as you. “What time should you be back?”

“Uhh, probably around 9 tonight,” he sadly said.

“Oh wow...that’s a long time,” you said with a little sadness.

“Yeah I know, and I’m sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you!” Bakugou said. He felt so bad for missing your anniversary but he had to do what he had to do.

“It’s fine Suki. You said you’d be back at 9, so that’s when we’ll celebrate.” You offered.

“Baby, the dorm’s curfew is 10. What’re we gonna do for an hour outside?” He asked.

“Who said we had to leave the dorms to celebrate our anniversary? I could set something up here in one of our rooms and when you get back, we can celebrate. Just you and me, all night.” Bakugou smiled at his creative girlfriend. He was so blessed. He held you closer and covered your face in kisses as you giggled away. He loves the sound of your laugh and voice and craves to hear it all the time.

“Okay then, but I still want to make it up to you,” Bakugou bargained. Y/N only smiled and rolled her eyes at her stubborn boyfriend.

“Fine. I’m not complaining,” you laughed and Bakugou followed. He kissed you one last time before he got up and got ready. You stayed in his bed a bit longer and waited till he got out of his shower to leave to your own dorm to get ready. You both couldn’t wait for tonight!

*Timeskip*

It’s was 8:30 and Bakugou would be back soon and you both agreed to have your celebration in your room so that when Bakugou gets back, he can get ready. You set up your room perfectly. A table in the middle, a few candles, a few roses. Petals scattering the floor and his anniversary gift on your bed. You spent all day in the dormitory kitchen making spicy gyoza, seaweed salad, miso soup, and a variety of sushi. The room looked amazing and so did you! Your makeup was top notch and you wore a gorgeous maroon red dress that hugged your body. It was tightly hanging off your shoulders and the length went down to your upper thigh. You wore a skinny black choker and a gold necklace. You finished off your look with black strappy heels. It was a little chilly so you opted for a black leather jacket and honestly it pulled the whole look together.

You sat on your bed as you waited for Katsuki to come back but decided it was time to set the table. You brought the food and utensils, the plates and cups, and went back to get a pitcher of ice water. As you returned and placed the pitcher on the table, you went to close the door but heard Kaminari and Sero down the hall.

“Can you believe Bakugou and Y/N lasted this long?” Sero said. You got curious as to why they were randomly speaking of you both and listened in.

“I know right! It’s their one year today and they have me to thank for it!” Kaminari said in a boastful voice. “It was all thanks to my bet that Kacchan even asked her out in the first place.”

Your eyes went wide as you continued to listen. “What?” You whispered to yourself.

“True. And to think it all started out as a bet.” The boys laughed and joked around as they said they were happy for their friend but you shut the door and pressed your body against it. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs and let the tears fall to the ground.

“I’m nothing but a bet.”

—

Minutes passed and Bakugou texted you that he was in his dorm getting ready. You didn’t reply. You fixed your makeup to look a little normal but nothing could hide the fury and heartache in your eyes. You waited a few for Katsuki to walk through the doors and the time finally arrived

“Happy anniversary babe!” Bakugou said as he walked through the doors. He was holding his gift for you and was wearing a maroon red button up that matched your dress. He rolled up the sleeves and unbutton the top. He wore a silver chain with black jeans and black boots. He put on his watch and you weren’t gonna lie, he looked insanely handsome, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from doing what you had to.

“You look hot,” he said as he smirked and looked you up and down. You stood and gave a quick smile before letting it drop once more but Katsuki didn’t notice. As you kept your gaze to the now very interesting ground, Katsuki made his way over to you. He stood very close and he attempted to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in for a kiss but you placed your hands on his chest to stop him. “Uh? Baby? What’s wrong?” He nervously laughed out.

“....Bakugou we need to talk,” you calmly said but held back all the anger and sadness you were feeling. You pushed Bakugou back a little and he placed the gift down on the table. He looked at you with a confused face before he spoke.

“Bakugou? Baby, it’s Katsuki. Suki? Your Suki. Are you alright?” He asked with a worried voice. You laughed at his confusion. He really didn’t get it. He really didn’t understand that this was the end for you both. An uncomfortable silence rang through the room and you bit your lip in nervousness before you spoke.

“.....How could you?....I gave you my everything and it was all a lie! You were my first everything Katsuki! My first kiss, my first love. ...Oh my god I can’t believe I actually slept with you!” You said with a soft broken voice as your arms held your body and you looked towards the ground in regret. Bakugou was confused but seeing your sad form made him so upset. And hearing that you regret the times you both made love to each other broke him. He was worried for you and he ran to you to give you a hug but you pushed him away again.

“Baby-“

“Stop calling me that!”

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You finally snapped your eyes up to face his as you looked at him with angry eyes and pools of tears as they streamed down your face.

“I’m nothing but a bet to you!” You screamed. Bakugou’s face went into shock as his eyes went wide and an open frown appeared on his face. You found out. You fucking found out but who the hell told you. Who the fuck ruined his perfect relationship?!

“Who-...who told you?” He asked with an angry, sad, shaken voice. You rolled your eyes as you noticed that after what you told him, that was what he was worried about.

“Does it matter?! Is it true or not?! ....did you really use me for a bet?” You asked with a broken heart. Bakugou bit his lip as he contemplated lying to you and moving on from this to keep his relationship, or telling you the truth in hopes that his understanding girlfriend would understand and stay with him. Both options were risky but he went for the latter.

“Yes..it’s true. You started off as a bet,” Bakugou watched as you looked around and threw your arms, shrugged your shoulders, and let them drop again. Your body just screamed “I knew it,” as he watched you with fear but continued. “But that doesn’t mean what I feel for you isn’t real!”

“How am I supposed to trust that?!” You screamed.

“Please! Please just trust me! Y/N I love you! I do, I swear! I was an idiot to place that bet but I didn’t expect myself to actually fall in love with you!” Bakugou heard what he said and cringed as he realized he basically just said he didn’t think it would be possible for him to fall in love with you. You looked at him in offense and hurt as he quickly spoke up again. “No, no, no, no! I didn’t mean it like tha-“

“Bakugou! Stop......just get out.” You calmly said but Bakugou felt his heart shattering.

“W-what? Y/N you can’t be serious. ...Can we at least talk about this first, please!” Bakugou said as he tried to grab your hand but you quickly yanked it out of his reach.

“No! Bakugou-“

“It’s Katsuki!”

“We’re done!” And there it was. Bakugou’s felt his entire world crumbling as his tears flowed down his face like twin rivers.

“P-please! You can’t do this!” Bakugou screamed as he ran to you and wrapped you in his arms. He let his head fall into your neck but you pushed at him and demanded he let you go. “Please don’t leave me! Please! I’m s-sorry! I can make it up to you, I promise just don’t leave!”

“Bakugou, let me go!” You said as your own tears fell and you pushed at his chest. Each time you got closer to getting him off, his hold tightened and he pulled you closer.

“No! Y/N please don’t do this to us!” He begged.

“Bakugou there is no ‘us’ anymore so let me go!” You demanded.

“Please! There’s nothing I can say to fix it! You started out as part of a bet, I’ll admit it, but I ended up falling in love with you, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done! I spent a year of my life with you and I wanna spend so much more! Please! You can’t leave me!” Another silence came upon the room. You stopped fighting due to exhaustion and Bakugou just continued to cry in your neck as he continued to hold you tight. His pleas and cried fell upon deaf ears as you already made up your mind.

“....I hate you.” You whispered as you let harsh tears seep out. Bakugou remained unphased and just assumed it was your pain speaking.

“I love you.” He quietly said. “Please just give me another chance to make this right,” he begged.

You felt Bakugou’s grip loosen and that’s when you quickly took the opportunity to use your quirk and push him off. Your quirk pressed him against the wall and kept him there.

“Hey! Y/N! What are you doing!? Let me go! Please!” He cried out as he watched you grab a blanket, a pillow, sleeping clothes and makeup remover. You’ll sleepover in Mina’s room if Bakugou won’t leave your room. “Please Princess! Don’t leave! I can fix this if you give me another chance! Im begging you to stay! I’m sorry! Please stay!”

“Since you won’t leave, I will. We’re done Bakugou,” you said as you got in his face. You noticed his shaky voice and frantic eyes as he searched your soul to see if you were serious. His mouth hung open slightly as he shook his head ‘no’ in disbelief. “From now on, don’t talk to me, don’t touch me, don’t even look at me! I hate you.” You said and walked out of your room and slammed the door. Katsuki fought against the restraints and once you got far enough, you released your quirk and Bakugou quickly ran out the room to look for you. But he didn’t see any sight of you and so he went back inside you room. He locked himself in there and cried.

He cried and begged that the whole thing was just a bad dream and he would wake up any minute now. But this wasn’t a dream. And Bakugou had really just lost the one he loved. He looked at the room and everything you set up. He cried as he looked around and felt so sorry for both you and him. That night, he slept in your room on your bed, crying. He didn’t even bother to change or anything. He just wanted to escape this new reality.

“Please come back Teddy Bear....I’m sorry.”

[unoriginalmess]

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

[cevaannss]

Just Friends (Reader x Chris Evans)

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Prompt: “you say we are just friends, but friends don’t know the way you taste” but with a happy ending? - Anon

Warnings: R rating, Some sexual content/Smut, Minors DNI. Brief mentions of/allusions to anxiety.

Authors Notes: This is my first prompt fill on here in years, so I might be a little rusty any feedback is appreciated, please let me know if there’s anything I missed warning or tagging. I also didn’t intend for this to be so long but I got a little carried away with it.

When you and Chris first met, you had been young, wide eyed, fresh faced kids. He was barely 20, filming at your old high school, and you a member of the local theatre group were recruited as an extra. You had graduated a year prior and were coming to the end of your gap year, you would be going to college in a few short months. After seeing each other in passing on set, you and Chris had your first conversation in the kraft services trailer, both leaning in to grab the last remaining bagel. After a back and forth of “you take it” “no you” “seriously its okay” you agreed to split it and thus began your friendship.

It was weird, from that first day you had a connection like neither of you had experienced with anyone else. You talked daily, would be each other’s dates to your friends weddings, hung out with each other’s families without the other around. You were mistaken for boyfriend and girlfriend many times throughout your years of friendship but that was never what it was about. You’d both dated plenty, often times ending relationships because the person you were seeing couldn’t deal with your closeness to each other. But for you both that was just how it was, and if they couldn’t accept it then they weren’t worth your time. Maybe they were right, you had always had a crush on Chris, and you had a feeling it was reciprocated but you’d always had an understanding, a common ground that you were friends and that’s all you’d ever needed to be.

The first time you had edged into more than friends territory was on Chris’ 37th birthday. You had thrown him a party at his house and he had been a little, okay a lot drunk and while you weren’t far behind him you were still sober enough to take care of his messy ass. After everyone had left you had attempted to clean up a bit, collecting garbage and wiping down the kitchen, the whole time Chris was passed out on his couch. You had managed to wake him enough to get him up and into his bedroom, out of his jeans and shoes and into his bed. You bought him a glass of water and two Advil placing them on his beside table, him grabbing your wrist as you placed the water down, pulling you on top of him into a half hug as he tended to do when he was drunk. He’d always been touchy when he was drunk, letting his hands linger on you longer than normal but it had always been innocent. He mumbled something into your ear, something he’d said a million times, and you replied the same response you had given a million more. But what he said next had changed it all.

“No, not like that”

It stopped you in your tracks because what did he mean not like that. It had to be like that. It had always been like that. This wasn’t how this went. Not for the two of you. You weren’t “those” friends.

“Then like what” you had whispered, panic setting in, soberness hitting you like a Mack truck as you looked back at him. But of course he had fallen asleep again, dead to the world, arm wrapped around your waist as you perched on the edge of his bed. Silence filling the air except for the light snoring he was emitting.

The next morning you had been awoken by clattering coming from the kitchen. Stumbling out of the guest room you walked in to Chris attempting to make breakfast, standing in the door way you watched him, his eyes squinted and slow moving, lingering proof of his previous inebriation. He was making blueberry pancakes, it was a post birthday tradition, but you were usually the one who made them for him on the day after his birthday.

Seeing him standing there sliding another half burnt pancake onto the stack he had started made you smile, he tried bless him, but he was never great in the kitchen. The conversation from last night soon flooded your memory and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“What did you mean”

Chris looked up from pouring more batter into the pan, finally noticing your presence.

“Morning” he mumbled, clearly not fully awake yet “What do you mean, what did I mean?”

“Last night, in your room, you said you loved me...”

“I always say I love you?” He let out a low chuckle but looked confused, you weren’t sure if he really didn’t remember or if he was just pleading ignorance, usually you were quick to spot if he was lying but this time your radar couldn’t pin it. He turned his attention back to flipping the pancake in the pan.

“Yeah but when I said I love you too bestie... you said ‘No, not like that’ what did you mean?”

His head snapped up, redness filling his cheeks, and it was in that moment that you had known things were changing whether you had wanted them to or not.

“Oh” you said, your breath escaping you, as the realization hit.

“Yeah” he said eyes focused on the pancake burning in the pan.

“Chris...”

He pulled the pan off the stove dumping the last pancake on the plate before placing the pan in the sink letting the cold water run over it before turning back to face you.

“I don’t...what do you want me to say” He started, raising his voice slightly, obviously flustered. “You want me to say I was drunk and didn’t know what I was saying? Because I cant okay, I can’t say that. Would I have said it if I were sober? No, probably not...in fact definitely not. But I did and I can’t take it back or just pretend I didn’t because I do love you, I’ve always loved you”

“I’ve always loved you too Chris” you looked up, your eyes connecting with his blue ones.

“Yeah, but not in the same way” he stepped around the counter standing in front of you now, his frame towering over yours.

“Said who”

“What”

“Who said I don’t love you in the same way?”

Chris lunged forward, one hand grasping your waist, the other coming up to cup your face as he leant down, his lips pressing against yours gently. It took you a second to realize what was happening before your hands found their way around his neck pulling him down to you, deepening the kiss.

From that day onward you became the friends who make out occasionally, it wasn’t the right time for you to try and be anything more, yes you loved each other, more deeply than you first understood but your lives were all over the place, you were rarely in the same city for more than a few weeks at a time and Chris’ career was exploding more than ever. It wasn’t the right time. So you’d both take what you could get when you could get it and that was enough for either of you.

It wasn’t until Chris’ 38th birthday a year later that you let things go any further. He had wanted a small celebration, so you had gone to dinner with a few friends, had a few drinks and then headed back to his place to watch a movie. You had been cuddled up on the couch, passing a beer back and forth between you when he placed it down on the coffee table, his hand sliding down your thigh, before pulling you into his lap. You had placed your knees on either side of his thighs, your hands on his shoulders while his trailed down your sides and over your hips before slowly moving to cup your ass. You leant down to place a soft kiss on his lips, him reattaching them as soon as you pulled away, biting your lower lip roughly.

There was something different in the way he was kissing you, the way he was touching you, more heat, more passion. Your hands were running down his chest as his grip on your ass tightened, holding you close to him, the intensity taking over. Before you knew it your shirt was on the floor and his hands were sliding up your back as your lips found their way to his neck. There was a tenacity in every movement, every touch, every kiss. His hands finding the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease and discarding it with your shirt on the floor. He pulled away slightly, his eyes raking over your body perched on top of him, eyes filled with need and want, pushing up to connect your lips once again as you could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans. His large hands sliding to your thighs before standing you both up, your legs wrapping around his waist, hands in his hair.

He stumbled his way into his bedroom laying you down on his bed placing a soft kiss to your lips before hurriedly kissing down the side of your neck and chest, between your breasts and down to your belly button stopping at the waist of your jean shorts, fingers dancing over the button as he looked up at you, eyes questioning as if to get the go ahead, you nodded gently. He slid your shorts and underwear down your thighs, discarding them and grabbing at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before sliding off his jeans and boxers. You let your eyes trail his body as he situated himself between your legs leaning down to kiss you again.

“Are we really gonna do this” he laughed as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“I think so” you blushed, eyes meeting his once again, yours filled with anticipation, his with desire.

When you woke up the next morning, your head on his chest, his fingers running through your hair, you didn’t know how to feel, but you knew things were moving into a far more complicated territory.

The two of you went on this way for a while, hanging out with friends and family as if nothing had changed, but when it was just the two of you it was different, intimate. When you were away from each other you facetimed daily, you shared everything, you always had but now it felt like everything you were used to but magnified. When he was gone you missed him, when you were together you felt complete. It was so familiar but so new at the same time. At this point you were dating without the title, which had been fine with you both, you liked what you had together it was easy, simple, no pressure.

In early August you had moved in, the apartment you rented was being sold and Chris insisted it would be helping him, and besides he had said, you were there whenever he was anyway. You had your own room but it was rarely used, most nights falling asleep together in Chris’ bed, both finding you slept better when you were together. It was one of those nights, curled up in his bed, Dodger at your feet, watching a rerun of some sitcom when Chris had asked you if you would go to Toronto with him the next month, his latest film Knives Out was premiering at the film festival there and he had been equal parts excited and nervous about it. You had been taken aback at first, sure you’d visited him on set before and attended a few premieres but this felt different.

“You want me to?” You sat up turning to face him.

“Obviously” he laughed “I’d take you everywhere with me if I could”

“Aww cute” you chuckled pinching his cheek as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“I have press a lot of the time, but you could hang out do some sight seeing, then come to the premiere with me?”

“With you...or with you?”

“Whichever one means I get to have you beside me on the red carpet”

“I don’t know Chris...you know that will start a shit storm” you knew how bad the rumours that had started when fans spotted you just attending the premiere for the last Avengers movie had been, and while it really didn’t bother you, you didn’t want it to have an affect on his career.

“Honestly? I don’t care.”

“Okay” you knew he wouldn’t say it but you could tell from his face that he was feeling anxious about it “I’ll come with you, but if you decide any time that you’d rather walk the carpet alone thats okay”

“I won’t” he reassured you, placing a kiss to your temple.

The day of the premiere came around quickly, Chris had been doing press for the past couple of days and you had spent most of your time exploring the cities sights. Chris held true to his word and didn’t change his mind about you walking the carpet with him. He had been a ball of nervous energy since you had woken up, you had left him eating breakfast to go take a shower and start getting ready for your day.

When you came out of the bathroom towel wrapped around you tightly, wet hair loose and ready to be dried you had found him pacing the hotel room in his underwear trying to keep himself busy, it was something that would put most people on edge but you had seen this so many times before with him, always getting in his head, always doubting himself and usually you were able to talk him down easily, but this time you had decided to try a different method.

Calling his name you let go of the grip you had on your towel letting it drop to the ground as he looked up having not previously noticed you had come back into the room, freezing instantly eyeing the curve of your body, a slight smirk across his face.

“What’s this for” he laughed as he closed the gap between you, hands finding your hips as you rested yours on his chest.

“You needed to get out of your head” you whispered as your lent up to kiss him, one hand sliding down his chest and finding its way into his boxers taking his length in your hand and stroking it slowly as you felt it harden beneath your grip. You pecked his lips before dropping to your knees on the plush hotel carpet pulling his boxers down with you. You pumped him a few more times with your hand before letting your tongue lick over his head tasting the saltiness of pre-cum. You took him halfway into your mouth, letting your warmth surround him before pulling off and sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. Surrounding him with your mouth once more, this time dropping down deeper and with more intent, you hand finds its way to play with his balls, Chris letting out a breathy moan. You started to bob your head up and down as his hand found its way into your hair guiding you as his hips began to thrust, his tip hitting the back of your throat with each movement. It didn’t take long before he was warning you that he was about to cum, and cum he did, hard and fast right down your throat as you swallowed the taste of him before letting his cock slide out of your mouth. Chris pulled you up from the floor crashing his mouth into yours, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue as he guided you back to the bed determined to make you cum just as hard as he had.

An hour later you found yourself in the shower for the second time that day, this time joined by Chris. You took your time, him massaging shower gel onto your back, while you reached up lathering and rinsing out the shampoo from his hair. You made sure to gently scrape your fingers along his scalp the way you knew, from many nights laying on the couch fingers curled in his hair as he fell asleep in your arms, relaxed him. Once you got out of the shower you realized Chris’ stylist and the hair and make up artist you had insisted on hiring yourself would be showing up any second.

By the time you were in the car waiting to pull up to the carpet Chris had seemingly relaxed, he held your hand the entire car ride over but you knew he was in a much better place mentally and that the second he got out he would turn on his charm and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand the way he always did. When it was time to get out of the car Chris stepped out first leaning in to offer you his hand as you stepped out behind him, you could here the gasps of fans and media alike, all surprised that Hollywood’s most eligible bachelor had bought a date. Chris had pulled you into his side at the photo area, his hand on your hip as you placed yours on his chest posing for the cameras. You had been surprisingly pretty calm about the whole thing until that moment, cameras flashing in your face and paparazzi screaming from behind their barricade for you to look in twelve directions at once. It was overwhelming and something you don't think you could ever get fully used to.

“Just breathe” He whispered to you out of the side of his mouth, knowing that you had started to spiral.

After what felt like an hour but was probably ten minutes Chris’ team moved you along to the press portion of the carpet, you had expected to just stand back with the team while Chris answered questions from reporters from all of the different networks and publications but he had refused to let go of your hand as he approached the first reporter so you found yourself next to him through it all. Of course the first question was about you, and you just knew every headline tomorrow would mention it. It used to frustrate you, how the media would hone in on any female he was seen with, making the story about that and not the hard work he was doing, but you knew they were just trying to sell papers, page click and views.

“So who do you have here with you today” the reporter smiled tilting her head in your direction

“This is my best friend” Chris started before motioning for you to finish, that was one of the many things you had always loved about Chris, he never wanted you to feel like you were in his shadow, you had your own voice and you could use it. You introduced yourself to the reporter who asked a few questions about how you met and then switched to talking about the movie. After a few more interviews that went in a similar fashion you were escorted into the theatre for the screening, Chris took your hand as the two of you sat side by side in the theatre waiting for the film to start. You had enjoyed it a lot and really loved seeing this side of Chris’ acting ability. When the movie was done he joined some of the cast at the front of the theatre for a quick question and answer session for the attendees before you all headed to the after party.

Chris had introduced you to some of his cast mates, and reintroduced you to a few you had met previously during a quick visit to set one afternoon. You had downed a few glasses of champagne by the time you were ready to leave the party, tipsy but not quite drunk. The two of you found your way back to your hotel, and you laughed as you entered the elevator remembering something you had thought about mid interview earlier that day.

“What?” Chris laughed pushing the button for your floor and leaning against the back of the elevator, as you pulled off the heels that you hadn’t realized until that moment were killing your feet.

“Earlier...I almost made the worst comment in the middle of that E! Interview”

“....oh god what were you gonna say?” He chuckled, amused at your tipsy candour.

“Well you introduced me as your friend...”

“Yeah....” Chris laughed, looking at you as if to say that’s what we agreed on.

“Well, you say we are just friends, but friends...friends don’t know the way that you taste” you smirked at him pointedly, both remembering the activities of that morning.

Chris burst out laughing, his full belly laugh, hand coming up to his chest before reach across and pulling you into him, placing a kiss on your nose as the elevator doors opened on your floor.

“True” he mumbled before leading you down the hallway to your room, “that is true” he had one hand in yours the other holding your heels that he must have picked up on the way out of the elevator. “Well, how about next time I call you something else?” He started tone playful “This is my fuck buddy, no my slam piece, no thats too informal he laughed, girlfriend? No, hmm” He opened the hotel room door letting you slide in past him as he reached around to flip on the light switch closing the door behind him.

You stopped in the entry way a gasp leaving your lips. The room was filled with flowers. The pink and white Chrysanthemums filled every spare counter space, they had always been your favorite and Chris had sent you some for every birthday without fail. There were fairy lights lining the room and a small cart with a bottle of champagne on ice and chocolate covered strawberries by the window.

You turned back to Chris, your heart racing only he wasn’t where you expected....

“How about Wife?” Your eyes connected with his, where he was knelt on the floor behind you an open green velvet ring box in hand.

“What” was all you could get out.

“How about next time I call you my Wife. Marry Me?” Chris said, laughing at the shocked expression on your face “I’ve loved you for almost 20 years now, you’re the best thing in my life, and I never want to be without you...”

“Yes.” You said before you could even really think about it. “Yes!?!” You repeated realizing what was happening as Chris pulled the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger quickly before standing up to kiss you.

You’re not sure how long you stood there in the entry way making out, but when you pulled away you noticed that Chris’ eyes, like yours, were a little damp as you went to run your thumb across his cheek you caught a glimpse of the ring on your hand realizing you had barely even looked at it before it was on your hand. Chris pressed his lips into your hair holding you to his chest as you admired it. It was beautiful, delicate, subtle, it was just the kind of ring you would have chosen for yourself.

“Do you like it” Chris whispered into your hair

“I love it” you smiled up at him, lightly pressing your lips to his

“I love you” he smiled, not letting go of you.

“I love you too bestie” you giggled as he grabbed you around the waist lifting you over his shoulder and tapping your ass lightly as he took off towards the bedroom.

[shoutogepi]

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript​ ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is…  a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...” he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine. 

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :) 

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.