#and of you don't want strangle ya pretty best friend WHAT'S THE POINT

[junespriince]

Wally: so, come here often?

Dick: Walls, I invited you into my home and my room, take a big educated guess if I come here often.

Wally:

Wally: you have pretty eyes and it messing with me okay, Don't have to be a dick about it.

Dick, smug overload: but I do, I literally have to be a Dick.

Wally: I want to strangle you.

[fonulyn]

Oooh build a fic! 5H 𓃱 ? :3c

(here ya go! :D lmao idk what this is :'D have some stupid flirting lol. under a cut bc it got a tiny bit longer)

-

Leon fucked up. He wasn't paying enough attention. Seeing what once used to be regular farmers wave pitchforks and sickles at him, their eyes crazed and red, just like in Spain, immediately sent him back there in his mind. For a moment, he couldn't even function. He froze, like a damn rookie, and although it was only for a second that was long enough for them to be ambushed.

The pitchfork had plunged straight through Piers' foot, as if his boots hadn't even been there, and was embedded deep into the ground. The movement had sent Piers falling onto his ass, which was a lucky break, as the sickle someone had thrown had ended up buried in the wall behind him instead of in his forehead.

By the time Leon had neutralized the threat and rushed to Piers, Piers was already trying to tug his foot free, and immediately Leon placed a palm on his knee to stop him. "Hey, let me," he grimaced as he looked at the two long spikes that had pierced through the foot, the rest just narrowly missing. "Fuck. I'm sorry."

Piers groaned, leaning back against his hands. "You're gonna be sorry if you don't get me free in a minute." He gave Leon a pointed look, and they'd been friends for long enough that Leon could interpret it as the forgiveness it was. He wasn't quite that ready to let himself off the hook, but now wasn't the moment to self-flagellate.

"I'm gonna need to pull it out," Leon said, but he just got a grunt and a nod. He took that as agreement, so he grabbed the pitchfork, giving it a good tug. It didn't budge, neither on the second try, but the third time Leon put all his weight into it and managed to slide it free.

The strangled cry Piers let out made Leon feel even guiltier. He knelt down, unlacing the boot to get it off. It was sweltering hot around them, if he would leave the wound untreated it would certainly get infected and lead to bigger problems. Piers just watched him, with a pinched look on his face, trying to breathe steadily, as Leon peeled the boot and then the sock off.

The first aid spray was their best bet, so Leon emptied half of the canister, trying to get the bleeding puncture wounds to close up. The smell of the spray wasn't the best even under normal circumstances, but in this sweltering heat it was somehow even worse.

Bad enough that Piers doubled over, barely managing to turn to the side before he threw up.

"You okay?" Leon asked, frowning a little as he knew it was a dumb thing to ask, considering. What he really wanted was to pull the plug on the entire operation, which he knew would be overreacting, but he couldn't shake the feeling either way. Watching Piers get hurt was several magnitudes worse than getting hurt himself.

Piers wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pulling a face. "I'm fine. We can keep going." Experimentally he moved his toes, aiming for a smile that turned more into an awkward grimace. "See? Everything works!"

Exasperated, Leon sighed. He grabbed a wad of gauze, as it was pretty much the only thing that'd work, and bandaged the wounds the best he could. Then he took the now bloody sock, rolling it back over Piers' foot, trying not to hurt him any more than absolutely necessary. "Try not to get any more new holes punched into you before we're out of here."

"Oh, I already have the optimal number of holes," Piers said, easily.

Leon snorted. "I'd say a couple too many now." He pulled Piers' boot back on, even went on to lace it up for him, before he stood up and offered his hand for Piers. "Let's see if you can walk."

Without hesitation, Piers grabbed the offered hand, pulling himself upright. "As if I have any choice in the matter."

"If I need to, I will carry you out of here," Leon joked, although there was some truth to it. He wouldn't leave Piers behind, under any circumstances. And they both knew it.

"Oh," Piers teased. "Romantic." He winced as he set his foot down but he tried to cover it up. "I'd kiss you, but I literally just threw up."

Leon chose not to comment on the wince, letting Piers have this. Instead he just lifted his eyebrow. "Well. Later."

As soon as they'd get the hell out of here.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Hot-shot, Hot-head | Clint Barton

Hey lovelies! Here's another one for Dinner at Dizzy's! I actually really like this one. Clint Barton is super close to my heart. I remember watching the avengers for the first time when it first came out (and Thor before that) and just falling in love lol. Treat him well lovelies and please do enjoy.

Appetizers (Tags): Fluff / Angst (more so fluff)

Entres (Pairing): Clint Barton x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 7: “Teach me.”

Notes: None, requested by an anon

Word Count: 2.9k (lol I don't even have an excuse anymore)

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

���God damnit!” She hisses as the bow string snaps back against her fingers, the sting making her fumble the bow.

She catches it— like she always does— but not without another curse. She resists the urge to slam the hunk of metal against the grass, her muscles squeezing so tight she could scream. He makes it look so fucking easy. It’s not— it’s impossible. She wants her pistol back and glass of water. Water or wine. Same thing. Screw Barton and how ridiculously nimble he is— she thought she was supposed to be the agile one.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. She bites back a groan when she hears footsteps sound from behind her, rolling her eyes before spinning on the brunette, scowling at the gleeful squint of his bright blue eyes. He’s always so smug. In all of her years of knowing him that has never changed.

“Told you it’s not as simple as it looks.” He simpers, his smile so wide she wants to throw him to the ground right here, right now, and slap it off.

Slap, kiss— same thing.

“If you came out here to mock me, Barton, feel free to not.” She scrunches her nose— it’s the only thing she can do to keep the smile off her face.

Why does his grin always have to be so infectious? She wants to be annoyed still— she was annoyed before she turned around so why can’t she still be annoyed now? It’s infuriating and awful and so damn endearing. God, if she could go back to training and strangle Fury she honestly just might. What was he thinking, pairing her for fucking life with Clint Barton. She glances at the man and the smirk in his eyes and she presses her lips together.

He notices— of course he notices, they trained together, their reflexes are the same. It’s what makes them such good partners— they were created to be a team. Fucking Fury. Well, a team in one sense at least. The other not so much. She shoves the thought to the back of her head, finally letting the smile break out on her face.

“Someone has to, hot-shot.” He settles against the tree behind him, muscled arms crossing over his chest, puppy dog smile still just as wide.

God where the fuck is she supposed to look? There’s nowhere left— not the corded veins along his arms, not the golden skin peeking out of the collar of his t-shirt, not the the glint in his icy eyes that she can’t tell whether it’s from the sun or is just always there— she’s being attacked on all sides and all she has is this stupid bow— his stupid bow.

She drops her shoulders, rolling her eyes again and caving to his larkish voice— she always does. “I guess it’s fair. Shouldn’t rag on you so much for your terrible shot—”

“I don’t have a terrible—” He begins to protest, pushing from the tree and stepping closer to her.

She presses her fingers to his chest when he gets a few inches away, trying to keep her breathing in check. “With a pistol. Ten years later and he still interrupts. Good to know some things never change, hot-head.”

She beams up at him, palms flat against his broad chest, forcing herself to ignore the heat seeping from the thin material. It feels like at any moment he’s going to burn her, much too hot for his own good. Being this close to him she can smell his woodsy, citrus scent— like the damn sun— and she takes a step back. Co-workers. Partners. Best friends.

Nothing more.

“Ten years later and she still does everything in her power to make me interrupt. Terrible shot. Who taught you to fight so dirty, huh?” He peers down at her as he pushes past her, fingers flicking at her jaw, and she bites her tongue because it’s starting to feel like he’s asking her to say something she’ll regret.

“Uhm you? You did— weren’t you the one who kicked my knees in on the first day of training?”

He’s a good few feet in front of her now— stupid long legs— and she sucks in a breath of fresh air, her skin tingling as her body cycles him out of her blood. There’s no point, he’ll be back in a moment. He’s always back— always annoying and around and warm.

He glances back over his shoulder— “You mean right after you broke my nose, right darlin’?”

She lets her gaze flick to his nose and the faint bump on the ridge where she had jutted her palm into it all those years ago. The academy nurses are good— she can only see the blemish when she’s looking for it. Too bad her jab is better. It suits him at least— everything does.

“I did do that, didn’t I?” She hums, meeting him once more and standing on her tiptoes to get a better look. He leans down, staring at her from over the crook. “Maybe I was marking you Barton— I made ya’ pretty.”

He hands her the arrows, fingers clasping over her own for a moment, encasing her in that warmth again. “Couldn’t have found any other way, huh?”

She has to force herself to meet his banter, suddenly breathless and woozy, still wobbling on her tiptoes. “Thought you liked the violence— you did back then.”

He holds her gaze, fingers tightening so minutely that she’s sure if she were anyone else she wouldn’t have noticed. She wouldn’t notice how his eyes skim over her face before flicking over her head quickly, how his shoulders square defensively, how even when there’s no one around he’s always watching her back. But she isn’t anyone else— she’s her and she notices everything he does.

He meets her gaze again, muscles easing slightly, and her lungs scream at her because all she can taste is lemons and juniper.“Oh I love the violence.”

She tugs the arrows— and by default her hand— from his hold, searching desperately for an escape in the open air in front of her. The targets taunt her from across the field, the little pin prick holes in the middle of the red bullseye leering. She wants to throw the bow again— where the fuck is her gun?

“Why am I doing this again?” She groans and he laughs, his hand curling around her neck, thumb digging into the knots in her shoulder blade.

“‘Cause one day you won’t have bullets.” He supplies, voice too close to her ear for her to make much sense of the words. They’re like honey— too sweet, too slow.

Still she shrugs. “Won’t I have you, though? You planning on ditching me, Barton?”

Beyond the teasing she can hear the insecurity laced in her words and she wants to slap herself for potentially ruining the sunny afternoon. She can practically feel the switch in the atmosphere. The lighthearted banter fading into cold seriousness. She swallows, closing her eyes. Even after ten years she’s still terrified that one day she’s going to wake up and he won’t be in the kitchen pouring the sugar into her coffee and burning the toast. Joining the academy was her chance— at freedom, at family— and Clint was— is— the payoff of those hard years. She would be utterly lost if one day he just wasn’t there.

His hand stills, thumb still pressing into her skin, chest tensing where it just barely brushes her back. For a moment they just stand there, the only noise being the soft thud of the bow landing in the grass. A few seconds later the arrows join. She doesn’t drop them on purpose— she would never carelessly throw his things around— she just can’t feel her hands anymore. When she brings them together, wringing them together, she isn’t surprised to find them trembling. She can feel him start to shake his head, hair brushing against her temple before the words are even out of his mouth.

“Don’t even say that. Don’t. Or think about it. Ever again— you hear me? I thought I was the dumb one.” He tries to say it like a joke— she can hear him forcing his tone to stay light— but his voice is too gravelly, his words spiking too low.

She presses her lips together again, nodding. “Sorry—” she mumbles, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead, sinking back slightly to knock her shoulder into his chest— “was just— just over thinking, I guess. Stressed myself out.”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her against his chest. She tips her head back, putting her weight on him. It’s not unusual— it would be more unusual if she didn’t cuddle into him. That’s why she does it despite how terribly she wants to pull away. She can’t stay in his citrus arms— in this fever dream. She needs to break the spell. Maybe spend some days in the woods soon, alone, resetting her brain. She’s had to do that a few times.

“Not going anywhere.” He mumbles, hands closing around her arms, his jaw— scratchy and rough from stubble— rubbing against her shoulder. “You know that. Not now, definitely not in a fuckin’ appocalypse—” she laughs at that and he rocks on his heels, letting out a soft hum— “We’re in this together. Where the hell would I even go?”

He whispers that last part, probably hoping she wouldn’t hear, but his mouth is right there and she’s tuned into everything him. She can hear the worry, feel the rumble against her back. Shit. They’re both spiraling now and she’ll be damned if she brings her down with him. She has to do something.

“Teach me.”

He freezes behind her, hands softening their grip. When he speaks his voice is a little tighter than normal— hesitant, maybe. “What was that, darlin’?”

She goes to pull out of his arms again, bending to retrieve the bow, but she only ends up pulling him with her, the giant man curling around her easily. Too easily. She clenches her jaw, fighting the sudden urge to whirl around and push him to the ground.

Push him to the ground and climb on top of him.

“Teach me how to use this stupid thing, Barton. Can’t do it— you were right.”

Apparently she doesn’t have whirl around— he does it for her, spinning her so quickly that the heavy metal almost whacks him. He pries it gently from her fingers, releasing it back onto the grass. She almost protests— what the hell was she so afraid of dropping it for when he practically just threw it? — but before she can he’s pulling her off her toes and spinning her around.

“Clint what are you doing—”

“Ten years— it’s taken ten years for you to say those words.” He laughs and she swats the nape of his neck, rolling her eyes, feet dangling off the ground. It’s all she can do to not curl them around his hips. “And you tell me my ego is big.”

She scrunches her nose at the man, eyes dipping over his crinkled eyes and triumphant smile, once again fighting the curve of her own lips. “You’ve been waiting for me to ask for help?”

He snorts, dropping her on her toes before slumping onto the grass, sprawling out on his back— clearly not about to actually do as she asked. “No— if you wanted to learn that badly you would have by now. You’re not stupid, just stubborn.”

Clint leans up, warm hand curling around her ankle and yanking, pulling her feet out from under her and sending her flying. Before she has time to scream— hell, to even think about screaming— his arm is hooking around her stomach, catching her midair and lowering her easily to his chest. Ten years and she’s still never ready for that. She goes to drive her elbow back against his ribs but he catches her, grabbing her arm and instead pulling her to rest across his stomach.

She grumbles but turns anyway, cheek pressing against hard, warm muscle, meeting his gaze from where his head rests on his folded arms. “Then what?”

He flashes her another toothy grin— that can’t be good. “Was waiting for you to tell me I was right about something. Took you long enough.”

She scowls. “Shut up, will you?”

“Awe, is someone angry that I won?” He teases, his voice warmer than the sunshine on the bits of her exposed face.

“Barton, I said shut up.”

His laugh is too easy. Too musical. It rumbles against the parts of her that are pressed against him and makes the rest of her ache, wanting to be pressed against him as well.

“Geez, someone’s touchy today.”

As if to enhance his point he runs a gentle finger over the top of her spine, right where her tank top stops, and she has to clench her jaw against the heat that pools in the pit of her stomach and the shiver that races down her back. It’s the final straw. Ten years is a lot of straws— maybe she’s a hoarder of said straws— but finally her last one has broken. She can’t take it anymore. She bolts upright.

“Shit—” he mutters lowly, probably not intending for it to reach her ears, before speaking louder— “c’mon darlin’ I was just messing with you—”

She swings her leg over his stomach, knees caging him underneath her, thighs spreading deliciously over his warm abdomen, and his mouth snaps shut. He’s up on his elbows, no doubt because he had been worried and was on his way up to check on her, but now it only serves to bring them closer together. For a moment all she does is look at him, chest heaving, palms pressed against his chest and anticipation laced in every muscle. Each breath he takes tortures her— what’s he thinking?

She’s never thought Clint Barton to be a mind reader but maybe anything is possible at this point because as soon as she thinks it his crystal eyes narrow, his pink lips quirking up. “Are you going to make the first move or do I have to?”

Butterflies erupt in her stomach— wait, no, that’s just her gut twisting as he flips her over so fast that she doesn’t have time to blink. Dammit he’s quick. She’s quick too, though, legs finally curling around his hips to keep her back from crashing against the ground. She doesn’t remember wrapping her arms around his shoulders but when her head stops spinning she can feel her fingers digging at his arms. Her back eases against the ground, one of his arms slipping under her head, his other hooking around her thigh and pressing her that much closer to him.

His nose bumps against hers, breath hot on her lips, and she doesn’t try to fight the smile this time. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

His lips brush against hers, just a wisp— a promise— of what’s to come, and she squeezes her thighs tighter, pulling a raspy groan from his mouth. “Gave you ten years, didn’t I?”

She hums, lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. “You did— what on earth is wrong with you Barton?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “You’re really something, you know that?”

She kisses the other corner, just barely brushing her mouth against his as she passes, reveling in the way his hips push her harder into the grass. “Someone’s touchy today—”

The rest of her words are cut off— they’re swallowed— by two warmer-than-sin lips. He tastes like candy. Like red licorice and lemon drops. That’s all it takes for her to kiss him back, hands slipping into his hair and yanking— maybe she should be gentler but she can’t help it. She’s been patient, she’s paid her dues. Besides, if the moan that rips from his lungs and passes over her tongue— all needy and wild and lemon tinted— is anything to go by then she would say he doesn’t mind it. His tongue slips into her mouth, caressing hers, and she returns his moan with one of her own.

“Why— he mumbles into her open mouth, pausing momentarily to tug her bottom lip between his teeth and groan— “why didn’t we do this earlier? Like—” his lips skim over her cheek, up to her ear, tugging on her earlobe next— “like ten-years-ago sooner?”

She turns her face towards him, following him as he moves down her neck, lips pressing against his cheek. She doesn’t want to detach from him now. She doesn’t think she’ll ever want to. Her mouth slants against him, teeth nipping at his jaw, and he hikes her higher up his body. Her fingers are still tangled in his silky hair, raking through the strands and trying to memorize the feeling.

“I don’t know.” she mumbles against him— she can’t bring herself to find a witty remark, she just wants more.

He pulls back, ducking his head, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. “That was passive of you, hot-shot.”

“Barton.”

For once he doesn’t need to be told twice, leaning back down, nose bumping against her with another brain melting chuckle. She arches up, impatient for his touch. Before his lips skim hers he says something else, though. It’s like he can’t help but annoy her every chance he gets.

“Maybe you’re the hot-head after all.”

[sugako]

sweetness

osamu xf!baker!reader sum: your unrequited crush on the man you sell to is weighing heavily on you until one little party later it isn’t an issue cw: 18+ minors dni, a lil fluff, a lil angst (reader is sad bc they don't think samu feels the same), mentions of drinking/alcohol/party (no one is drunk during), kinda confessions, first time with each other, nipple play, oral (receiving) wc: 3.5k a/n: hi !! uhh i have had this is drafts for months bc i struggled to post it and idk why,, it's def a little longer than usual and little more plot-heavy(ish) but i hope you all enjoy pussy king samu <3

It felt as though you were admiring him from a distance even when he was standing right beside you.

The afternoon that the owner of Onigiri Miya had called up your small bakery to partner with his business you had been overjoyed. Honestly, you were still happy, it was just tinged by something deeper or different now. You were certainly still happy to sell your goods through the business, but your feelings had really gotten the better of you.

The day, actually the moment you met Osamu you told yourself to get over the petty crush you had developed within minutes of meeting him. His big, tall frame made you feel as though he could wrap his arms around you and everything would be okay. His pretty, steely eyes and soft features relaxed you, made you feel at home.

A week later you were groaning into your pillow when he texted a simple, polite compliment about your baked goods. Desperately, you hoped that the fuzzy feeling would melt away any day now.

Every single time you had to see him again and again to drop off your bi-weekly delivery, the feelings didn’t fade. If anything they grew stronger. The quick, comfortable banter you shared made your chest fill with molten gold that always seemed to harden into a tough little peach pit, strangling the words from your throat whenever you got back into your car.

A month later you were crying to yourself at 2 AM about how you couldn’t get over him even though you hadn’t even been close to a relationship. It was impossible. How were you supposed to get closure from someone you were merely business partners with.

You cursed the way your heart sped up when you got a new text from him. Over and over again you had to remind yourself that it was purely business.

Onigiri Miya (Osamu): Hi, do you want to swing by tomorrow? Lunch is on me

Fingers swiped over the keyboard, groaning as you asked what you should bring for the restock, not realizing it had been two weeks already.

Onigiri Miya (Osamu): Everything is selling fast, but I won’t need anything for a bit, just wanted to chat not about business

Without hesitation you agreed. Even if you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it wouldn’t hurt to keep up a personal relationship with a business. The fact that he had texted you deep into the night without prompt didn’t make it into your busy mind.

Those two little texts were how you found yourself taking a deep breath outside the Onigiri Miya a little after the lunch rush. You stepped into the nearly empty building, immediately greeted by Osamu’s soft, low voice.

“I have to run to the back, but I put a plate for you out.” He calls, disappearing just as the door closes behind you.

It’s painful to admit how your heart swells at the gesture. Your favorite onigiri of his is neatly plated in front of a corner seat at the bar. The two other people on the opposite side of the store are quietly chatting, paying no mind while you settle into your seat. Before you can take a bite he’s bustling back in.

“Sorry ‘bout that, got a call.” He says, leaning over the counter in front of you. The way his broad chest is squished by his shoulders.

“No worries.” You say just before biting into the food. He snatches one of the rice balls from your plate, but your mouth is too full and you’re too grateful to protest. “So,” you begin after you swallow, “what did you want to talk about?”

You can’t tell whether the air is thick with awkward tension or if it’s just you.

“I mean, obviously not business.” As you speak, a strangled, little chuckled forces its way out of the back of your throat, but you take another bite of food before it gets out of hand.

He’s silent for a moment, slowly chewing his food. Maybe savoring it or maybe thinking, you can’t quite tell which.

“Can you take nights off from the bakery? I remember you saying ya do a lot of baking and prepping at night.” His expression is impossible to read and you want to tell him that this is, at least for you, business talk, but you hold back and simply answer the question.

“Well, yeah, if I needed to. Uh, why?” You catch how his shoulders tense and lower, his eyes shifting across the windows in the front. Unfortunately, his own anxiety does very little to quell any of your own.

“My brother is having a party and I’m… obligated to go, but I won’t know many people there, they’ll all be his teammates, so I was wondering if you would like to go with me? If you don’t have a… I mean, if you don’t have any plans.” His expression remains still, but there’s a small flush in his cheeks that you catch on immediately. Something in your heart softens with hope.

“You’re twin volleyball brother?” You ask, biting back a smile. “Also, you’ll have to tell me what time the party is and then I’ll let you know if I have plans, but I’m probably free.”

The flush deepens as he recognizes his mistake and slowly blinks, shaking his head. “Yes, ‘Tsumu, the volleyball brother. And the party is next Friday. Around nine.”

Within the limited time you’d spent with him he’d told you about his brother and his old friends. Confidence growing, but not quite steady, you uneasily treaded into your next words.

“Yeah, I’m not working next Friday actually, so that sounds good. Should I text you for the address or…?”

“Meet me here, I can take you. Best to take the train, but it’ll be easier if we go together.”

Deep in the center of the city, standing close enough to smell the soft fragrance of cologne, you still weren’t sure how easily you had ended up here at the house party filled with strangers hosted by your customer’s pro athlete brother. It was a little much to think about if you took too much pause. Before you could slip into your own brain too much your cheek smushed into the thick muscle of Osamu’s solid back that had suddenly stopped moving, and as you sputtered out an apology the door swung open without him even knocking.

“Hey! Did you really not a-” The blonde mirror image of the man standing directly in front of you eats whatever words are about to spill out of his mouth when he notices you peeking out from beside Osamu. Realizing how ridiculously childish you must look tucked away behind him, you clear your throat and step out so you’re by his side instead.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say politely, extending a hand for him to shake. Atsumu’s eyes flit between you and his brother, not bothering to hide a smirk.

“Oh, I know.” He finally says when he takes your hand. Out of sheer embarrassment or maybe anxiety, you feel pricks of heat chase out to your fingertips. The sensation is only compounded by Osamu’s feather-light touch that grazes the small of your back as he tries to lead you past his brother.

“Really,” you start, with a sly little smile, “he’s told me about you’re very impressive-”

“Okay.” Osamu says a little too sharply. He’s glad you’re at ease, but less glad that you’ve immediately taken to lightly teasing him with his brother. “Let’s head in.” The warm breath of his whisper jolts through you and you find yourself nodding, letting his touch lead you.

Just as the door is closing behind you and the excruciating reverb of the music seeps into your ears, you barely catch what Atsumu mumbles before he slips into the crowd of people. “Maybe you’ll finally show her how much ya like her.”

Osamu doesn’t respond, and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear him, but the way his fingers dig into your back tells you otherwise. You simply pretend that you heard nothing, pointing to the drink dispensers lined up on the kitchen counter across the room. After a quick drink of the sweet, burning mystery drink and after Atsumu started to keep his distance - too busy hounding his one teammate with the dark curls whose name you couldn’t quite remember - things went smoothly.

Time passed quickly, helped on by the dozens of new people you were introduced to. The small talk and repetitive questions had you mentally winded, but Osamu’s constant touch whether on your elbow or back or shoulder grounded you. Instead of feeling your heart race as it usually did when he was near, you only felt calm.

It all came crashing down sometime deep into the night when most of the guests had headed home and those left over passed out, scattered everywhere about the house. Well, everywhere aside from the neat guest bedroom tucked away toward the back that Osamu had pulled you back to when the last man (who had drunkenly tried teaching you how to say ‘volleyball’ in Portuguese) had finally passed out.

The single drink you had gulped down hours ago was long gone from your system, but even without it you still found it easy to speak with him, even as his arms inconspicuously wrapped around your torso and brought you down to lie beside him on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling for a moment while the two of you remained in short silence, a thought came to your head, another thing you want to tell him or ask him. You’re not sure which because in the next moment, when you whip your head to face him, he does the same.

If you had been any closer your faces would’ve smashed together. Any farther away and you wouldn’t be brushing lips. Just as soon as the touch begins, it ends with you scrambling away, stopped from falling off the bed by his strong arm wrapping around and pulling you back to his chest. The silence thickens with every second that neither of you speak, but he thankfully breaks it within the minute.

The words fumble around the front of your mouth like your mouth is numb. “I’m so sorry that-!”

“Well, that wasn’t really a proper kiss.” He says plainly, a smile barely etching its way onto the corner of his lips.

“N-no, it was not.” You whisper. It doesn’t quite feel real when he kisses you for real, and for a second you’re worried you’ve deluded yourself. You sigh into his firm touch, finally releasing the tension in your chest and letting your own lightly trembling hands trace up the space between your chests to settle against his. His body is softer than you had thought it would feel, somehow so much more comforting and homey than you could have imagined.

After an endless moment, his mouth strains against yours as he forces himself to pull away with a little huff. Your eyes find his, bright and hopeful, and still a little bit surprised. Between all your personal longing and resignation that he didn’t feel the same, you hadn’t noticed the way he smiled more when you were nearby, the little blush that dusted his cheeks when you complimented his cooking that first time, and so much more.

“Wanted to do that for a long time.” He sighs, leaning his forehead against yours and letting his heavy eyes close. Hiding your grin in his chest, you nod, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling in closer. When your knee glides against his thigh in an attempt to get more comfortable and flush to him, he clears his throat. “We should get changed if we’re going to sleep here. I have extra clothes in the dresser.”

“Okay.” You nod slightly, not wanting to move just yet. He seems to be with you because, despite his own words, he remains exactly in place with his grip just as tight as ever around your waist. “...Samu?” You finally ask, pulling back far enough to look up at him.

“I wanna kiss you again.”

“Okay,” you repeat, “then kiss me again.” The crooked, giddy smile you’re giving him seems to tense him up even more.

He inhales deeply through his nose, eyes darkening as they flicker across the planes of your face. “I wanna, but I don’t want to push this unless you feel the same.”

If your tired heart could vibrate any harder it would probably be bursting out of your chest.

“Well, I feel that we should kiss again,” you press a peck to his cheek hoping it’ll steady your next vulnerable words, “because I’ve thought about you a lot, and I really like this.” You emphasize your words by glancing down at the negative space between your bodies and running your hand up the built expanse of his shoulders.

Humming, he cradles the back of your head, gracefully moving to straddle you and ghost his lips over yours. “In that case, tell me when to stop.” The hot breathy fan of air from his whisper barely hits your cheeks before he’s pressing a deep kiss against your lips.

You slot together like perfect puzzle pieces, limbs finding the just the right spots to fit into. Mouths move desperately, passionately and without thinking your fingers start dancing under the hem of his shirt, brushing against the hot skin beneath. With a tempered groan, he uncouples his lips from yours, kissing along your jaw and quickly moving to trace down your neck. The kitten nips and licks against your collarbone send electricity through your bones, forcing you to flex into him, hips awkwardly jutting forward for something more.

“You… you, ah, are so perfect.” You pant, eyes blinking wide open when the calloused tips of his fingers roughly trail under your shirt, up your sides, stopping just short of your chest to flip your shirt up.

Groaning so quietly you barely hear him, he buries himself between your breasts and sighs against your skin. “Yer even more beautiful up close and without all this,” he pauses for the briefest moment to undo your bra and lift it over your head with the shirt, “extra stuff on.”

Scoffing out a short giggle, you relax back, watching how his eyes drink you in as though they’ve been starved. “By extra stuff you mea-!” The quip is promptly cut off by the feeling of his mouth latching around one breast, the other being tended to by his opposite hand. Not a moment later he pulls away, smiling as you let out a pitchy whine.

“Yer pretty mouthy when yer comfortable, huh?” He mumbles, lips ghosting over your nipple while the one in his hand continues to be teased.

“N-no,” you rush to disagree. Judging by the eye roll he gives you, he doesn’t seem to believe you, but he doesn’t say anything more, simply bringing his attention back to your chest.

The way his suckles tiny, bright purple marks into your skin sends heat pooling into your stomach, hips noticeably grinding up against him now. As the seconds drag on, he doesn’t seem interested in anything other than your tits, enamored with the way they feel in his hand and mouth. It’s almost too much, and you feel your stomach tightening with every moment the teasing continues.

“Samu,” you whine softly, “samu, please, can’t s’too much, really need…” The words are jumbled and garbled. You can’t quite sort your brain to come up with anything coherent, distracted by the wet pooling in your underwear and the weight of his body crowding over yours.

“Sensitive tits?” He coos with a sharp glint in his eyes, gears obviously moving in his head for the future. “That’s okay,” he continues while pressing a soft kiss to each of your breasts, “What do you really need?”

“Need you to touch me.”

For a second, his mouth opens but he doesn’t speak. You fear he’s going to tease you, make you explain in lewd detail how bad you need him and where you want him to touch you, but he doesn’t. He simply nods, truthfully too caught up in the intoxicating feeling of your body and too impatient to feel you for the first time to drag this out.

“Good girl, I’m gonna take these off.” He starts, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear to take them off together. Without hesitation, his eyes travel between your legs. “Such a pretty, little cunt.” He hums already squeezing in between your thighs. Obviously distracted, he peppers little kissed up the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, still caught up staring at your soaking mess.

“Samu, please…” You whine. While you know he isn’t purposefully teasing, well you don’t know but you don’t think at least, it’s just as frustrating. Your knees lock around his thick shoulders, pulling him closer to your heat.

“Okay, okay, pretty girl.” He grumbles, lapping right at the crook of your thigh and hip. There’s a split second of tense silence wherein he carefully spread your lips admiring the glisten of your slick under the dim light of the lamp. Your entire body is tense with anticipation, legs shaking as they struggled to spread around his wide frame.

And just like that quiet moment is over - he laps you up so desperately and greedily you’re twitching under his grasp, clawing at the wrinkled bed sheets below you for anything to ground you. He doesn’t stop when he shifts your legs over his shoulders and wraps his hands around the bottom of your tummy to keep your jostling hips in place.

When you finally look back down to grab his hand, keeping a vice grip around his fingers, you also glance down for the first time. His dark, hazy eyes meet yours and you completely relax at last.

The feeling doesn’t last long, not when he pushes his tongue into your tight, unprepared hole, slurping all he can get and pushing in as far as he can go. Osamu’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sensation, your cum dribbling down his chin and coating up to his nose that keeps brushing against your throbbing clit.

With a solid, squelching pop he tears away from you. “Taste so good,” he heaves, lips coming back even as he’s speaking, ghosting over you. He buries himself in your cunt again, this time focusing solely on your clit, cycling through different motions until he finds the one that makes your hips strain under his sturdy hold.

“Feel so good!” You sigh. “Please, please wanna cum.”

Smirking against you, he takes the hand you’re not clinging to back under your thigh and props it against your ass, slowly teasing a finger in. Absolutely gushing now, it slips in easily. You can feel his smile grow again for a moment before he refocuses on your clit, motions speeding up and increasing the pressure with which he worked. It’s impossible to not shudder under him now, especially with one arm only holding you down.

“C’mon, pretty girl, cum.” He murmurs, easily hooking a second finger into you, pumping and curling them in time with his tongue. As he feels you flutter and cream he can’t help but rut into the mattress, cock swelling from the taste of you. The pressure inside is too much and your want to let go is pushing you closer and closer, although it’s his mouth and fingers that really push you forward.

“C-cu-!” The words get trapped in your throat, overtaken by a hushed moan you struggle to bite back, trying - but very much failing - to be mindful of all the half-sleeping people strewn through the house. He slowly brings you down, fingers winding down and tongue lapping up your swollen clit while you convulse at his touch in time with the fluttering of your cunt.

At last, you have to drag him off, needily tugging up on his hands until he lets go. You try to pull him in to kiss, but he hesitates, his strength far outweighing your weak, blissful one and he hovers above you. There’s no reason to ask because almost immediately his fingers that were inside of you, absolutely drenched, come up to his mouth so he can make a show of sucking them dry for you.

“Taste even better than the stuff you make.” He sighs, letting you drag him down to your face. You can smell and taste yourself so strongly on his damp lips, it clouds your already hazy senses.

“Hmm,” you manage out, when he rests his entire body weight against yours, lips pressed into the side of your head. It’s only when you go to shift that you feel him pressing so incredibly hard and flush to you exposed skin through his soft pants, that you perk up. “Samu,” you begin brushing your fingers through his soft, dark hair, “can I...wanna help you.”

“Mhmm,” he nestles against your neck, kissing over the spots he left behind earlier, “in a minute, pretty girl, we have a lot of time ahead of us.”

[christineeej94]

Neighbors ❤

Arón Piper x Reader

a/n: I appreciate all the likes i got for my first attempt and now I want to write another one, a little bit longer and more interesting. I hope you guys gonna like it and I wait for your requests. Kisses 🌻

Content: The reader is moving to Spain, she meets Aron by chance because they live in the same block. They are starting to see each other very often and after a few weeks they become a couple.

Warnings: bad writing and some inappropriate language. 

Word count: 1732 

♠♠♠♠♠

When I decided that I want to move to Spain I don't know what was on my mind. It was a radical decision and now I'm in new apartment who has a beautiful view of Madrid's streets. I like to seat here, drink a cup of coffee, read a book or just admire the breathtaking view.

  I admit that this city is so mesmerizing and full of life, but I'm alone, I live my family in Italy and come here to find something. I leaved everything, my home, my family and my job at the gallery to find something now, an adventure. I'm looking for inspiration for my paintings and I think here I can find it. Today I want to spend my time on streets with my camera and take pictures of people, animals or whatever I consider that deserve to be painted. I dressed with a colorful dress and some sandals. I pinned my hair in a pony tail and I take anything I need for this walk. I locked my apartment and I start going down the stairs. When I went outside the bright sun blinded me for a few seconds so I put some sunglasses and start walking to nowhere. Today is a great day to get some inspiration and the locals are already on streets and at the local markets. I photographed some kids eating ice cream, an old couple reading a newspaper on a bench and a lady at the flower shop. Walking down to the historical center I seen three guys at a table and they were drinking a coffee. I wanted to photograph this state but the sunlight blocked my view.  They look so handsome and very masculine. I took courage and come closer to them table.

A blonde guy, a boy with black hair and another one with brown curly hair are looking curiously at me when I got in front of them.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N) and I'm a professional photographer and also a painter. May I take some photos of you?" “I promise it will be quick” They are looking at me like I am a crazy lady. Maybe I’m but that’s another story.

They smiled at me and starting to talk to each other in Spanish. I didn't understand a word and now I realize that maybe they didn't understand me in the first place.

“First, I’m Miguel” the blonde one present himself. “He is Itzan and he is Arón” Miguel pointed first the black hair guy who smiled at me, then the curly boy who looks so good.

"Nice to meet you." I smiled. "Can I start?"

They approve and I ask them if they can be natural like I was not there. The boys are really born to be models because the final result was amazing. After I finished i give them my contact data if they want the photos. Miguel and Itzan were very excited and I talked with they a little. They explained me that they are actors and it is very regular for them to be photographed.   That beautiful guy, Arón, didn't talk at all and he was already gone after a we finished. I was happy that I met these nice guys and I ensured them that if they need something, they can call me. 

When I have arrived home, it was already dark outside. I made a bowl of instant noodles and I stayed on my balcony, watching the light and enjoying my diner.  I googled for the three boys I met today and I’m surprised and shock because they are famous. All of them are acting in this series called “ ÉLITE”. I start watching the first episode when load voices and extremely load music are coming from my neighbor above me. It’s half past the midnight so it’s late for a party, especially in the middle of the week. I put a hoodie on my summary pajamas and I walked up the stairs to my neighbor’s door. I hit hard the black door and after a few minutes a tall boy with curly black hair was sitting in front of me with a beer in his hand, smirking at me.

“Can I help you, princesa?” I don’t say anything because I didn’t understand what he’s saying.

“You are shy? Come in, the party is already started” He speaks in English this time and he drags me inside. “I’m Jorge by the way”

“I’m your neighbor, (Y/N)” I finally speak and we enter in a room full of people who are dancing and drinking. “Sweetheart, I don’t live here, I’m just a guest” he explains and I want to leave, I’m not welcome here and I don’t know who own this apartment.

“Hey, Jorge, who is she” a familiar voice is heard from behind I turn around. Miguel is sitting in front of me with people I don’t know, but I recognize some faces from the “ÉLITE” first episode. Miguel looks surprised to see me there. “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” He is happy to see me and I’m also happy to see him. He hugged me and present me to the group. “But seriously, what are you doing here?” “I live in the apartment below.” “I didn’t know you are living here, Miguel, I apologize for the inconvenience” He looks confused for a second. “I’m not living here, Arón is” he explained. “Stay, we are gonna have so much fun.” I looked down to myself and I've seen a very messy outfit which is not appropriate for this kind of party.

“Hey, is that the girl from the coffee shop?” “¡Ai, que hermosa!” Arón screams from the terrace and he’s walking like a zombie to us.

“I apologize for him, he was drinking too much, you know, he got his heart broke.” Miguel support Aron and the curly head boy is sending me kisses. “Maybe I should go home, is pretty late.” “Nice too meet you guys.” I greeted the group of people and I go home.  

All night I couldn't sleep, I only see Arón face in my mind and I can´t stop thinking of him. His beautiful eyes and his smile are so stunning. I don't know him at all but he seems a nice person and I would like to know him. But he is a star and I'm just an ordinary girl. I started my day terribly, I'm tired and I don't feel like getting out of bed too soon. Yesterday I received an email about a job at a fashion magazine and today I’ve to be there at 12 p.m. At half past 11 I was sitting in front of elevator. When I entered Arón was inside looking in his pone. First he didn’t notice me so I decide to greet him.

“Hey.” my voice sound like a strangled cat. “Oh, hey there, (Y/N) right?” I approve and I’m looking in other direction.  He intimidates me with his presence. “I’m sorry for last night, I wasn’t myself.” “It’s alright, I’m used with parties and load people” I said and we get out of elevator. “Where are you going now?” “I'm going to an interview for a job at Cosmopolitan Spain and I am pretty late.”

“Let me drop you, it’s on my way.” I accepted because I was late. In the car he asks me so much questions and we figured out that we have many things in common. “Come with me at a barbeque this weekend, it will be fun and I gonna present you to my friends” He said when he dropped me at the Cosmopolitan offices. “Sure, why not.” I blushed when he winked and smirked at me. "See ya, hermosa." "And good luck."

After two hours I was already home. I slept all day and I woke up when my phone started ringing.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” “I’m calling you from Cosmopolitan offices, congratulations, you got the job, you can start on Monday.”

I was excited when I heard the news. I can’t believe I got the job. I spend the rest of the night dancing and watching my new favorite show.

  After 3 weeks

  I open the door to let my best friend to come in. Arón puts the chips and the beers on the coffee table and sits comfortable on the couch. It's Friday so it's the "Euphoria night". We started together this series and he loves it. I don't like it that much but I adore to spend time with him. Arón it was a good friend for me from the beginning. He is teaching me Spanish and I made a lot of friends here thanks to him. We start know each other very well, but he doesn't know that I like him so bad. We flirt a lot but it’s more like a joke.

“I don’t like that guy, Nate” I commented and he laughed. “It’s a bad guy, (Y/N), you don’t like bad guys?” He smirks at me and I rolled my eyes. “I like you” He takes it like a joke and start laughing. “Pero soy un mal cabrón” he looks at me inappropriately and he smiles suggestively. I love when he is talking in Spanish. “You are such a playboy.” “Of course, that’s my middle name” He shows me his middle finger and I hit him softly in his left arm.

After a few hours we are sitting on my balcony admiring the sunset. I start to love Spain so much and I love the boy next to me who is smoking the fourth cigarette in the past 30 minutes.  He observes that I stare at him and he smiles. “I know I’m beautiful, stop looking at me like that.” “Sorry.”

 “But I don’t outdo you” he takes me in his arms and start singing his lyrics from ‘Vicio’. “What are you doing?” I laugh and he giggles. “I’m singing for my future girlfriend” He answers and I blush. My heart stops beating for a couple of seconds. “What?” I mumbling. He stopped and raised my face. “You are the most beautiful person I ever seen, you are kind and you are so talented” “And I like you like a crazy man” I can’t stop smiling after his declaration. “Do you want to be my crazy woman?” “Of course, mi amor” I answer and we kiss softly.

[babeyvenus]

Revival(BNHA OC)

Chapter 5: Sports Festival?

Keeping herself hidden from her villainous father, and studying to be a hero for the sake of her and her deceased mother, Sunako Homura pushes her way through countless challenges in her highschool years. Will she lose it all, or lose herself?

Story Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, Family/Comfort

Tags/Trigger Warnings: Gore/Blood, Suicidal attempts, Alcohol, Language, Panic Attacks

_______________________________________________

After dinner, there was an awkward vibe between Shura and I. Neither her or I have said anything to each other even after she came home.

"You didn't tell me you were going on a trip.", Shura suddenly speaks up.

"My bad?", I say and she smacks me on my head. "Uh...OW!?"

Tatsuo hisses in sympathy.

"You earned that! You had me worried!", she says looking back at the sink. "All Might called home and I was worried sick. You're lucky I was stuck at work, or I'd have been there to strangle you."

I sweatdropped. "Please don't."

She sighs and shakes her head. "Just be careful. This is your first time fighting a villain and you almost died...."

"I didn't get anywhere close to dying, Shura.", I say, crossing my arms.

"To me, you did. I shouldn't have to get a phone call home about you being in danger or hurt, or worse.", she says, sullen and walking to her room.

"I know.", I say, looking down at my lap, not wanting to make it worse.

"She's only looking out for you, Sunako.", Tomohiro says.

I know.

_______________________________________________

After two days of resting, I went outside only to see Bakugou already ahead.

“So, you weren’t gonna wait?”, I joked, catching up to him.

“Tch.”, he rolled his eyes. “You take too long. Shouldn’t take you 30 years to put on some pants.”

“You’re exaggerating and a drama queen,” I say.

He glared at me and I just laughed as we got to the entrance.

“Hey, Sunako!”, I hear Mina call me.

Before I could turn around, I was tugged somewhere into the girls changing room.

“What’s going on!?”, I exclaimed, seeing Yaoyorozu, Tsuyu and Uraraka trailing behind her.

“It’s about time you got out of those pants, don’t you think…?”, Ashido smiles sinisterly, along with the other trio.

“And that’s my cue to leave.”, Tomohiro says, disappearing.

You ass! Don’t leave me!!

I backed up into a wall. “What’re you trying to do….?”

Tsuyu wrapped me up with her tongue as Yaoyorozu sized me up, making a skirt, black thigh highs, a black bra in my size.

“Don’t even think about putting that on me!”, I yelled.

“Would you rather do it yourself?”, Ashido asked.

“I’d rather die!”, I deadpanned.

They looked at me with straight faces and neared me again.

“You can beat me or whatever, but I ain't putting it on!”, I exclaim.

"Oh, c'mon! It's not that bad.", Mina says, making me raise both of my eyebrows in disbelief.

_______________________________________________

“Hey, you guys!!”, Ashido calls.

I felt myself being dragged inside the classroom, hearing a bunch of voices going around and then it gets quiet.

“We got something to show ya! Meet the new Homura Sunako!”, she announces, ripping a cover off of me.

I look around the room to see the rest of the class’s wide eyes and some of their cheeks dusted pink.

“Isn’t she cute??”, Uraraka asks.

“Very.”, Kaminari grins.

“I didn't need your opinion!”, I yell and Mina giggles, wrapping her arms around me.

I glanced toward the rest of the room. “What’re you guys staring at!? Quit gawkin’!!”, I growled.

“Aw, c'mon Sunako-chan…you don’t look bad. You’re super cute!”, Hagakure says.

“I’m not cute!”, I argue.

“She’s right, though!”, Kaminari says and grins at Kirishima. "Don't you think so, bro?" Kirishima rubs behind his neck. "C'mon, don't make her uncomfortable."

I groaned out loud turning to Mina. “Why’d you make me put this on?”

“To get in touch with your inner femininity.”, she says, shrugging.

What kinda answer is that….?

“She’s right, you know.”, Tomohiro says. "It doesn't hurt to do so every now and then."

Your opinion is invalid. You didn't help me.

The door slid open to show a wrapped up mummy.

“Who-?”, I started, but was cut off by threatening, but mumbled voice.

“Why are you all still up…? Sit. Down.”, a familiar voice says.

“Mr. Aizawa….!?”

“You’re back!!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting??”

“My well being isn’t of importance right now. I just need to let you all know that your battle isn’t finished.”, he says, walking over to the podium.

“What…?”

“More villains….?”, I whispered.

“The sports festival is coming up.”, he says.

Everyone sighs in relief. Asshole…

“I forget this is a school.”, Kaminari says.

“Everyone…I’m gonna do my best!”, Uraraka exclaims.

Everyone fist pumps the air. “Yeah!!”

“I said I’m gonna do my best!!”, Uraraka yells aggressively.

“Y-yeah….”

The class went by just as fast as it came and everyone clambered to leave.

“I’m so tired…”, I say, yawning. I glanced Uraraka as she trembles, facing the door.

“W-what the-!?”

“What’s going on!?”, Midoriya exclaims.

The door was blocked by various and many students from other classes.

“What now…?”, I say, walking up to group.

“What’re they here for!?”, Mineta yelled looking confused.

Bakugou brushes past me. “They know about USJ, you idiots. They’re scoping out the competition.”

Mineta points at him and looks at Midoriya as he reassures him.

Bakugou walks up to the door. “Now that we got that out the way, you idiots have no business looking in here. Now, get outta my way, extras!”

“H-hey! Bakugou!”

“You can’t just call people extras because you don’t know who they are!”, Iida yells.

I walked up to the door, but paused as a bored looking, lavender haired student walked up. “I heard you guys were impressive, but you just sound like an ass. I’m sad to find that you guys aren’t nothing but egotistical maniacs.”

“Hah!?”, Bakugou sneered.

I frowned. “Now, wait just a minute-”

The guy starts rambling and I sigh, tuning out.

This is a waste of time…

“Bakugou, where are you going? It’s your fault they’re in our grill!”, I hear Kirishima exclaim.

“None of that shit matters. When you rise to the top, none of these shitheads will matter.”, Bakugou says leaving.

"That guy moves to the beat of his own drum.", I say, rubbing my temple. "I kinda like him. He doesn't take shit from no one.", Tatsuo says, smirking.

You two might just get along then cause you're both annoying.

I sighed, walking out of the school after the day.

“I never understood what all that was about. They saw who they were up against, why provoke us?”, I grumble lowly.

“They want to see who was really a challenge. Considering this is a popular school.", Tomohiro says.

“Maybe they’re scared.", Tatsuo says and I roll my eyes. "Scared of what? We haven't done much."

"They'll be seeing soon enough but for now, just worry about training.", Tomohiro warns.

I walked inside my house and paused seeing my aunt drop her remote.

“You…you’re wearing a skirt….and you look ADORABLE!!”, she gets up and squishes my cheeks.

“Told you, it’s not bad. It’s a good change.”, Tomohiro grins.

“Yeah, yeah.", I grumble, pushing her off. "I haven't seen you wear a skirt in so long," she pauses. "Who put you up to it?"

I shook my head. "Just a couple of girls from my class." She raised her eyebrows. "You told your class? I mean, it's obvious but how did they take it?"

"They were shocked…. confused?", I shrug. "They accepted it fairly quickly for some reason but there's no need to dwell on it." She nods. "Well it's good that they're looking out for you too. Make sure you make a lot of friends, yeah?"

I nod. "Okay."

She claps suddenly. "Speaking of friends, guess who's back?"

I tilted my head in confusion and walked around the stairs to get to the kitchen, where she had this mystery guest hidden.

“X-xen!? Ushio!?”

Ushio Suki and Xen Yamato, my childhood friends. We met at an Aikido tournament after I'd beaten Xen. Ushio rushed at his side in seconds so she's had a crush on him for the longest.

Ushio came up to me and hugged me. “How’ve you been? I missed you!”

He shrugged and smiled. “We saw each other at the store and thought to drop by and see how you were doing.”

I frown. Now, of all times….?

“Give them a chance. They’ve missed you.”, Tomohiro says from the island.

“It’s been a year, you guys.”, I say.

Xen scratches his cheek and chuckles nervously. “Yeah…it has.”

“Yeah, sorry. I went to America for a while. I had to deal with my grandma remember?”, she asks.

“Oh, that’s right. At least somebody bothered to tell me something.”, I say, pointedly at Xen.

An awkward silence ruled out in the air.

“I’ll leave you guys alone.”, Shura said, leaving the kitchen.

I crossed my arms. “So…”

“How’re you doing after the USJ incident…?”, he asks.

How’d he know about that….?

“How'd you know I was there…?”, I asked.

“You can’t answer my question with a question.”, he says.

Yeah, I meant to come see you but it was this redhead standing outside the nurse's office.”, she says, scratching her neck.

Kirishima...

I shook my head. “You’re in my house. Answer mine.”, I say, looking at Xen.

“I’m in 1-B.”, he says.

“I’m in the Support department.”, Ushio says.

My eyes widen. “You two are at UA….? I haven’t seen you there.”

“I could barely recognize you either until I saw your face.”, he says.

“Same.”

I sighed. “Well I’m doing fine, as you can see. I just came back.”

“Yeah, I see.”, he says, looking me up and down. Ushio smiled widely, doing the same. "This look is cute.", she says.

I sigh. “Well, if that’s all you’re here for, you can have any snack and leave. I’m gonna go wash up.”, I say.

“Damn, you’re throwing us out already?”, he joked.

“Yes, get out.”, Tatsuo orders and Tomohiro pats his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes with a smile. “I’m pretty sure you got other things to do.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”, he says going through my pantry.

“Yup, gotta get back home. I didn’t even tell my mom I was coming to visit you.”, she says.

“Don’t touch my pockies, I’ll murder you both in your sleep.”, I say, walking away.

“I believe it.”, he says, still rummaging.

“We won’t!”, Ushio exclaims.

My phone binged as soon as I walked out of my bathroom,catching my attention.

{XXX-XXX-XX23}

Hey, grl!

Uh…what…?

{Dxmonix}

Who’s this…?

{XXX-XXX-XX23}

It’s Mina! Srry, I went through your phone when you were changing (¯∇¯٥)

{Dxmonix}

No worries (ーωー)

{Alien Queen}

Gotta add you to the Bakusquad now

{Dxmonix}

The what now?

{Alien Queen}

Mweheheh

{Dxmonix}

You're creeping me out Mina.

{Alien Queen}

Don't worryyyy

Alien Queen placed you in BakuSquad!

What the hell.

{Sparky}

Hey, Sunako chan!(≧▽≦)/

{Sticky}

What’s up?(*¯∀¯)ノ

{Sharkyboi}

Hewwo(≧▽≦)/

{Dxmonix}

Hey guys(￣▽￣)ノ

Alien Queen added Lord Explosion Murder!

{Dxmonix}

Uh…..wut…?

{Lord Explosion Murder}

Tf is this?

{Dxmonix}

Uh Mina…?

{Alien Queen}

So! Now that we have everyone here, it’s time for questions

{Lord Explosion Murder}

Hell no. Take me out of this shit

{Sticky}

Lmaooo

{Dxmonix}

Relax Explosion Boy

{Lord Explosion Murder}

Fuck off

And get me out of this chat!

{Alien Queen}

Not until we talk

{Dxmonix}

We're talking tho

{Lord Explosion Murder}

I'm going to sleep.

{Dxmonix}

Felt that

{Alien Queen}

Nuuuu

{Sparky}

Awwww lame

{Sharkyboi}

I smell fail

{Lord Explosion Murder}

If you’re fuckin finished, can I leave now

{Alien Queen}

Nope!

I shook my head, lurking through the messages and saved everyone's contact before slowly falling asleep.

Within the next few days of training for the festival, things weren’t getting any better. Everyone was bustling about getting themselves pumped up and prepared or some were just completely out of it and unprepared.

Me, on the other hand, I was a little bit of both.

“All of Japan will be watching, huh…?”, I asked Uraraka.

“Don’t remind me!”, she whines.

“It can’t be too bad…”, Yaoyozoru says trembling.

“Yaomomo, you’re shaking.”, Mina pointed out.

“Is everyone ready?”, Iida pops back in the room.

We all nod and get up until Todoroki calls Midoriya out.

I looked at him in confusion.

“Now, that we’re here for this festival…I just want you to know that I’m stronger than you.”, he says.

Midoriya just meekly nods.

“You’ve got All Might waiting for you on the sidelines. I won’t ask why, but I will beat you.”, he says.

He turns to me.

“The same goes for you, Homura. I don’t know exactly what your quirk is like, but I’ll beat you too.”

The hell did I do?

_______________________________________________

[lifes-better-on-saturn]

Fuck Me Like You Hate Me

Summary: Without meaning to you make Minghao upset. He decides to make you pay for it.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) spanking, degradation (slut, whore), hair pulling + more maybe.

(reader is thick. Got big boobs, thick bum. Ya know, the good stuff)

"God! You really know how to push my fucking buttons don't you!" His voice echoed through the entrance of your shared house as you threw his jacket on the couch and turned to him crossing your arms. He rose his brow in expectation.

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry?! For talking to my very gay best friend, whose also very taken, by a man, might I add. You've met him right?" You questioned sarcastically pulling the pins out of your hair.

You had met all of your guys friends for a little get together, when minghao started glaring at you as you laughed with Jeonghan and Vernon.

"You know thats not what I'm talking about." Shaking his head you laughed incredulously at his dumbass question.

"What?! What are you talking about, because if I'm being honest I have no fucking clue what your on about." Your voice slowly got louder as the anger built up in your chest.

His eyes burnt into your backside as you walked towards your bedroom. As much as the way your hips turned him on he still had anger coursing through his veins. "Don't you walk away from me!" He yelled after you as he followed you down the hallway. Rolling your eyes you started to unzip your dress unfortunately you were having a lot of trouble. Groaning you started to lift it over your head as you were too pissed and proud to ask him for help.

Giving up you went to purse and grabbed your phone plugging it in and laying down on the bed as you proceed to text Jeonghan.

"Texting your other boyfriend?" He shot as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Oh my fucking god! Can you stop! Who? Who the fuck else would I wanna fuck? Huh? Tell me!" Your eyes couldn't help but stare his toned chest and stomach.

"Oh just stop-" you cut him off.

"No! Answer me!" You got up wagging your finger at him, getting right up in his face. His breathing started to get harder as you stared into his eyes.

"For fuck sakes-" Grabbing your hand he turned your body around wrapping his hand around your throat lightly and pressed his hardness into your ass.

"You better shut the fuck up, before I fuck you so hard you know no one else's name but mine." He growled as he thrust his hard cock against your ass.

Letting out a small moan you bit your lip as you didn't want him to know he had this affect over you.

"God. You have no idea what you do to me. That fat ass moving with every fucking step you take. Fuck. Your so hot. You make me so hard." He lightly kissed your neck as he squeezed you ass in his large hands. He knew what that did to you.

A light bulb went off in your head. You knew he was just teasing you and if you didn't do anything you'd be left wet and alone. So you decided you'd tease him back.

Reaching behind you, you ran your hand over his stomach and slowly moved down onto his jeans, groping his member through his jeans making him groan into your neck.

"Fuck, you really asking for it, aren't ya? Slut." His hand came down on your ass again making you throw it back against him harder. Running your hands back up his stomach you felt the muscles tense at your delicate touch making you smile and bite your lip as you craned your neck to get a glimpse of his face. His lip was caught between his teeth and his head was thrown back as your fingers traced the dents of his abs.

Looking down at you he saw you smiling up at him. Smiling back slightly he brought his hand up to wrap lightly around your neck as he moved his lips onto yours.

This had been the first kiss you two had shared that night. His tongue invaded your mouth as he lightly squeezed your neck making you gasp into his mouth. He pulled away making you whine and grasp his manhood tighter. He groaned into your neck as he started to suck and bite dark marks into the skin.

You moaned as your turned around pushing him backwards towards the bed until he was sitting. You turned around pointing to the back of your dress

"Unzip me?" You whispered sensually. His hands automatically reached up and pulled the zip all the way down before it slid off you shoulder and pooled at your feet. You turned around exposing your pretty red lingerie.

It was a backless halter neck that was see through from the waist up with roses covering where your nipples were and velvet from the waist down.

A low growl rumbled from Hao's chest as he scanned your body. Turning around you pushed him onto the bed and straddled him while you latched your mouth to his, your tongue invading his mouth. His hands drifted up your thighs gripped at the flesh.

Your hands slid up his bare abdomen, feeling every dent a ridge of his toned torso. His hands drifted higher to your barely covered ass gripping and slapping the jiggly flesh making you moan loudly into his mouth. You loved having your ass slapped by Hao, he was so rough yet so caring with it.

His hand smoothed over the skin before coming down harder on it a few my times before he'd had enough of your teasing.

He gripped your waist and flipped you over onto your back making you gasp as he detatched his mouth from yours.

"As sexy as this looks on you, I need it off." He growled hastily undoing the tie at your neck and roughly pulling is down until your breasts were free.

He stared at them for a minute before moaning slightly. He ducked his head dowto kiss around the flesh of your tits before taking your right nipple into his mouth and sucking aggressively, his other hand groping and massaging the other with great vigor.

He moaned around your nipple looking into your eyes as you stared down at him.

You moved your hand to thread it in his beautiful grey locks, tightening significantly when he lightly bit your bud. This actions caused him to growl and slap your other breast lightly making you moan and arch your back.

After taking care of both nipples equally he moved up to kiss at your neck and pull the rest of your lingerie down your body, exposing your body. Once you had been stripped of everything he started to grind his hard cock into your wet heat, roughtly, practically, dry humping you at times.

Your knees pressed into his hips as your hand gripped his back.

"What do you want baby? Tell me, my little whore." He whispered into your ear, pushed his cock deeper. You let out a strangled moan as your grip on him tightened.

Pulling back he grabbed your throat lightly looking deep into your eyes.

"Use your words baby. Don't make things worse." His thumb dragged lightly along your bottom lip, before he brushed his lips against yours.

"Fuck me, Minghao. Fuck me like you hate me." You smirked returning his stare.

Once again releasing and deep growl he flipped you over onto your stomacb as if you weighed nothing. He pulled you ass up into the air slapping it making it jiggle.

"Arch that shit for me babygirl. Be a good little slut for me." He demanded, kneading the fleshy globes of your ass.

You arched your back as far as you could looking over you shoulder for confirmation that it was good enough. He nodded slightly before pushing your head down into the mattress, and unzipping his pants pulling them down along with his boxers, his hard member springing to freedom.

He was at least 7-8 inches, with a decent girth, that stretched you the perfect amount. He stroked himself slowly for a minute before slapping himself against your wet clit making your moan out.

"God baby. Your so wet for me. Such a good slut for me, hey?" His dirty talk went straight to your core and his ripped the mushroom head into your entrance before pulling out and teasing you again.

"Please Hao, fuck me." You wimpered as he smacked your ass once more before leaning forward.

"Oh baby. I'll fuck you until you see stars." He sucked your ear lobe into his mouth before letting go and thrusting hard into your tight heat.

Letting out a screech you threw your head back moaning loudly as his hand tangled in your hair.

His hips moved rapidly, thrusting in and out of you at an almost animalistic pace. One hand wrapped around your hip pulling you to meet his thrusts.

He grunted through gritted teeth as he watched you ass jiggle against his thrusts. He laughed maniacally at the sound of your loud, almost pornagraphic moans echoing through the room. Slapping your ass once more making you moan and bury your face into the soft pillows.

"Uh uh baby. Don't you hide those beautiful moans." His hands wrapped around your hair once more pulling you up against his chest.

His hands moved to your waist as he kissed all over your neck and shoulders. Still pounding into you you moved your hand up to thread your fingers into his soft hair, twirling the tufts until one particularly hard thrust making you pull his hair.

He growled for the 100th time that night and pulled you body back into him as he thrust roughly into your aching pussy.

"This hard enough for ya?" He grunted into your ear as he rubbed your ass cheek before laying a sharp slap on the soft flesh. you threw your head back in a loud moan as you felt yourself coming closer to your high.

"You getting close baby girl? Huh? My slut gonna cum for me?" You moaned loudly as you turned your head towards him, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss. He slowed down his thrusts but kept the rough and hardness.

"Fuck, Hao, I'm gonna cum. Make me cum baby." You mained as he sped up again.

He pushed your body back down into the soft duvet.

A plethora of curse words and squeals escaped your lips as you came hard. A groan coming from the man behind you as your walls spazzed, around his length.

He gripped one of your hips as he pulled out. You gasped and flipped your self to your stomach. You watched as he pulled on his member above you, chasing his high.

"C'mon baby. Cum for your slut." You said as you watched his face contort in pleasure.

Sitting up you reached for his length taking over from his own hand.

With two final pumps he exploded over your stomach moaning your name. Leaning over you he attached your lips in one last searing kiss.

Breathing out a fuck he lent his forehead on yours, before rolling next to you.

Looking at him your admired his features until his eyes met yours. As you dated into each other's eyes you trailed a hand down your torso towards the mess of your stomach.

Dipping your finger in it you bought it up to your lips sucking on it. He groaned as you pulled the finger from your mouth he smashed his lips on yours.

"God you'll be the death of me."