#and some of them are modeled by WOMEN!!!!

[fleurvi]

Big Chested S/O | Arcane Women

request for arcane women with big titty gfs

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genre: smut (minors dni)

characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi

cw: fem!reader, big chested!reader, titty play, titty sucking, marking (vi), titty slapping (grayson), strap on sex (grayson, sevika)

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Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa cannot keep her hands to herself. She had invited you to soak in the bath with her and cleared the attendants and guards from the room when you first entered, leaving the two of you alone. You're sitting between her legs with your head against her chest.

Within minutes, her hands reach around to your chest. She squeezes roughly; she treasures you, but you're a grown woman and can take some rough handling.

“Touch yourself for me”, she all but orders, and you listen, hand slipping beneath the warm water to play with your slit while she gropes your tits and rolls your nipples between her fingers. “Does that feel good?”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Caitlyn Kiramman

DIABOLICAL ORAL FIXATION.

Cait finally comes to bed and finds you lying awake with a book. “You didn't have to wait for me,” she says, crawling over to your lap instead of her own side of the bed.

“I'll always wait for you, you know that”, you sigh in response. She pulls you into a kiss to show appreciation before trailing her lips down your neck and collarbone. When she gets to your chest, She lifts her head to look you in the eyes before leaning down again to take one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking on it. She presses a finger to your hole as she pulls away from your chest.

“Can I touch you while I suck on these gorgeous tits?” she asks, smile splitting into a grin as she lowers her head back down.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Grayson

She likes to watch them bounce as you ride her strap.

“Yeah, just like that”, she grunts as you bounce on the toy. She calls it training. She knows it's not right to engage with a subordinate in this way, but when you make such a pretty picture to look at, who is she to deny herself? She's not making eye contact with you though, focused on your chest in her face. When you slow down a little, thighs burning with the ache of riding, she brings a hand up to harshly slap them. “Why are you slowing down? I'm not finished with your training,” she says, hands gripping your hips to assist you in gaining back your pace. “If you keep up just like that, I'll give you a reward.”

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mel Medarda

Mel asks you to model topless for her so she can paint you. You have to get her back on course multiple times because she keeps getting distracted by your tits.

“I thought you were a woman of composure”, you tease as she gets caught staring again. She rolls her eyes in response.

“I've been finished for five minutes; I just wanted extra time to stare at them,” Mel says matter of factly. You get up from where you've been posing, engulfing her in a back hug as you examine her artwork. It's impressive. She paints you in such a sensual light. Your hands drop from her hips to her thighs. “While I was painting your chest, I was thinking about having them as my next canvas.”

“Yeah? If you show me how much you like them, I'll think about it,” you say as she turns in your arms, ready to walk you over to her bed and worship your chest with her mouth.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sevika

Sevika likes to feel them rub against yours as she fucks you nice and deep. She thrusts her hips, grinding her cock inside you. You'd been begging for her to get the strap and fuck you, and now that she's inside, you're a drooling mess. She's completely covering you, pressing her muscular body on top of yours. The way your sensitive nipples rub against her chest as she rocks against you makes her eyes roll to the back of her head. Skin-on-skin contact is Sevika's weakness.

Sevika has a very short list of things that get her going, and your tits are top of that list.

✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Vi

After a rough fight, Vi will find an empty room, back you up against the wall and let out all her pent-up energy on your tits. She loves to leave marks, decorating your chest with hickies and bite marks. She's enthusiastic, letting her actions tell you how she feels. She's desperate with how her tongue drags along your skin, and her teeth sink in. Her mouth is too occupied to speak, but you can hear the curses she grits out between biting and sucking on your precious skin. She's also a proud woman, and knowing you have her marks on you fuels her to do more. Your boobs are the perfect destresser for her.

“Fuck, look at you”, she growls, admiring her dirty work. “Always so fucking pretty.”

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Thank you so much for requesting, I'm so abnormal about the arcane ladies, I need to write more for them. I hope you enjoyed!!

[onlyhereforthestories]

Chica Medica - Part 7 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

I know this isn't the final in question but I can't find a gif of it. So have this one instead. Plus who wants to see sad Ale anyway 👀 This is the final part. this journey has been crazy and long but I can't thank you all enough. I'm glad this one got finished even if it took me like 2 years! Enjoy!

The atmosphere in the stadium was thick with tension. It was the day of the women’s champions league final, Barcelona vs Lyon. The anticipation had been building for the last few weeks, now it was her and both teams were toeing the line on another historic moment. It was a weight that you could feel even though you weren’t a player.

The teams had already started their warmups, which meant the stadium already had that buzz of energy ringing round it. Fans were filling into the seats, drinks and snacks in hand, chants falling from their lips and filling the arena. In the middle of all that excitement, was the nervous energy surrounding the players, you could sort of feel it coursing through you as you did some final checks on players. A lot of the players had been involved in the 2019 game with the same teams, the day when Lyon crushed Barcelona dreams of champions league glory with that brutal 4-1 win. The memory of that loss still lingered, and it hung over today’s match like a dark cloud.

From your position on the sideline, you could see it in the way the players moved. Some were more focused than usual, pushing themselves harder in the warm-up drills, while others seemed distracted, their minds already on the game to come. Even Alexia, who was usually so composed and steady, seemed a little off.

As warm-ups wrapped up and the team headed back toward the locker room for final preparations, you felt a familiar presence beside you. Alexia had broken off from the group and was making her way toward you, her expression tight but unreadable.

"Can you tape my ankle?" she asked, her voice steady, but you could hear the tension underneath, the underlying nerves that no one else but you and her would know about, even if it was never acknowledged. To the outside world she looked like the normal fearless captain ready to lead her side the best she can and always does.

You nodded and motioned for her to lead the way down the tunnel and past the locker rooms to the medical space. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked you to tape her ankle, it had actually become something of a pre-game ritual for the two of you, but today felt different and was different. The air between you was thick with the weight of the upcoming fixture, and you could sense that there was more to this than just a simple request.

As you gathered the tape and began to wrap her ankle, you kept your movements slow and precise, giving her time to speak if she wanted to. You could feel her eyes on you, her leg resting gently on your knee as you worked.

After a long pause, Alexia finally broke the silence. “I’m nervous.” It was barely said above a whisper as if she was in a room full of people and she didn’t want anyone of them to hear her.

The admission caught you off guard. The Alexia Putellas, mighty captain of Barcelona Femani, worldwide superstar, role model for many little girls around the globe, was nervous and admitting it verbally to you. In the quiet moment before the biggest game of the season, she was opening up and letting her guard down for you.

You glanced up at her, offering a soft smile. "That’s normal. It’s a big game. And it important to you."

She nodded, her eyes focused on the way your hands were delicately wrapping tape round her ankles. "I keep thinking about 2019," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper still. "How we weren’t ready, how they tore us apart. I don’t want that to happen again. I don’t want to let the team down. I don’t want to let the fans down."

You paused for a moment, your hands gently holding her ankle as you looked up at her. The weight of her words hung in the air between you, and you could see the vulnerability in her eyes along with the fear of failure, of history repeating itself.

"You won’t," you said softly, your voice steady. "This isn’t 2019, Ale. You’re not that same player, and this isn’t that same team. You’ve led them through everything this season. Whatever happens out there, they’re ready because of you. They are ready to fight with you."

Alexia exhaled slowly, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she absorbed your words. You could tell she was still battling the nerves, but something in her posture shifted. It was like a quiet resolve starting to settle in and the confident captain was stepping back in.

"You’ve always been there," she said after a moment, her voice soft. That little glint she gets in her eyes when she’s just scored a goal present. "Since the start of the season, through all the ups and downs. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much that’s meant to me."

You smiled, finishing the last few wraps of the tape around her ankle. "You don’t have to. I’m always here, no matter what."

The noise of the stadium, the weight of the final, the memories of what happened in 2019 were pushed to the back of both your minds in that second. For this one little moment it was just the two of you, in this quiet shared space.

She reached down, her hand gently brushing yours as you finished securing the tape. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You squeezed her hand gently, offering her the reassurance you knew she needed. "You’ve got this, Ale."

With a final nod, she stood up, testing her ankle and giving it a small flex before looking back at you. The tension in her eyes had eased, replaced with a quiet determination.

As she walked back toward the locker room, you watched her go, your heart swelling with pride. This was Alexia, the player who carried the weight of the team on her shoulders, but in moments like these, she was just a woman who needed support too. and you would happily always be that support.

The stadium lights grew brighter as the time for kick off approached, and you knew that no matter what happened on the pitch tonight, Alexia would give it everything she had. And so would the rest of the team.

You sat in awe as you watched all the pre-match stuff happen around you. Your eyes found it hard to leave the Barcelona captain once she had led the teams out, and as the songs were playing out, you noticed her glance your way. It was barely a second look but she caught the small smile and little thumbs up you gave her and it gave her that boost she needed to get her head focused, or so she thought.

The opening whistle rang through the stadium, but instead of the usual surge of excitement, there was a quiet undercurrent of nerves rippling through the team and the crowd. The air around the stadium thick with anticipation and nerves around what was to come. Lyon, experienced and relentless, were not a team to underestimate. And within ten minutes, they made sure to remind everyone of that.

You watched from the bench, your heart sinking as Alexia was tackled. Henry standing up from the slide with the ball and driving in field, she took a couple of touches before unleashing a strike you knew Alexia herself would have been proud of and you could only watch on as it nestled into the net. 1-0 to Lyon.

The stadium erupted with cheers from the Lyon supporters, but for Barcelona, the shock hit hard. You could see it in the way the players slowed for just a moment, the disbelief written across their faces. A few glanced toward the bench, their expressions filled with frustration and a rising sense of panic. This wasn’t something they were used to.

But none of them showed it more than Alexia. Her eyes were focused, but there was an edge to her movements that you recognized all too well, the tension, the pressure weighing down on her.

As the minutes ticked on, you could feel the anxiety building. Barcelona was chasing the game, trying to press forward, but Lyon was everywhere, cutting off every pass, intercepting every run.

Jenni had a chance or two to put Barcelona level but couldn’t quite do anything with the changes, the keeper of defenders dealing with her presence or shots well.

And then it happened again.

A quick one two down the left-hand side, a looping cross to the back post that Panos couldn’t quite intercept and a well-timed run from Lyons striker meant they doubled their lead. 2-0 Lyon.

You saw the anguish in the players’ faces, the disbelief starting to set in. The memory of 2019 was no longer just lingering in the background, it was happening all over again. The stadium felt heavier, the chants of the Lyon fans growing louder, the Barcelona ones dying out a little, and the Barcelona players seemed to feel the weight of every step they took.

Then, in the 35th minute, Lyon struck again. A mistake at the back gifted a tap-in to one of their players. 3-0 Lyon.

The sound of the ball hitting the back of the net was deafening, but all you could focus on was Alexia. She stood frozen for a moment, her hands resting on her knees as she took in the damage. Her expression was unreadable, but you could see the pain in her eyes, the mounting pressure of the game slipping away. She was fighting against the memories of the past, but they were catching up with her.

From the bench, you felt helpless, watching as Barcelona tried to regain some control, but the first half had been brutal. Lyon was dominating, and the damage seemed almost irreversible. The team’s confidence, which had been so strong coming into the final, was visibly shaken.

Then, just before halftime, Barcelona found a glimmer of hope.

In the 41st minute, a well-timed run from Alexia finally broke through Lyon’s defence. She latched onto a lovely cross from Caro and struck the ball with precision, sending it into the net passed the diving keeper. 3-1.

There was a brief moment of celebration, a flicker of joy in the stands and on the pitch. But it was muted, more relief than anything else. The team knew the damage had been done. As Alexia jogged back to her position with the ball tucked under her arm to hurry the game along, she glanced toward the bench, and for the briefest moment, your eyes met. You saw the anguish behind her focused gaze, the weight of the scoreline still heavy on her shoulders despite the goal.

It was a moment of hope, but it felt small in the shadow of everything that had already happened.

Halftime was tense. The locker room was filled with an oppressive silence, the usual chatter and tactical talk nowhere to be found. Everyone knew what had to be done, but the path ahead felt impossibly steep. You could see it in their faces, the frustration, the doubt.

Alexia sat quietly, her head bowed slightly as she caught her breath. She didn’t say anything, but her presence was commanding. The team took their cues from her, waiting, watching. There were no outbursts, no speeches. Just the weight of the moment settling into every player’s shoulders.

When it was time to head back out for the second half, they rose with quiet determination. No one needed to say anything. They all knew what was at stake, and they knew how difficult it would be to turn things around.

You stood near the tunnel as the team filed out, catching Alexia’s eye as she passed. She didn’t say a word, but there was a flicker of something in her gaze, a steely resolve, a promise to keep fighting, no matter what. Not that you would ever think she could give up.

The second half was a battle, but the damage from the first half was too much. Barcelona fought hard, pressing Lyon, creating chances, but the goals just wouldn’t come. Time ticked away, and with each passing minute, the weight of the scoreline became heavier.

Lyon defended with everything they had, and despite Barcelona’s best efforts, they couldn’t break through again. Alexia pushed herself to the limit, running harder, tackling fiercer, willing the team forward, but it wasn’t enough.

The final whistle echoed in your ears, the high-pitched sound sending your heart into your stomach. Lyon had won, again. Barcelona had fought so hard to get here again, had overcome challenges but had fallen short yet again, and the heart break was evident. The stadium was alive with the cheers of Lyon’s fans, but all you could focus on was the devastation unfolding around you.

Your players, your friends stood frozen, the weight of the loss settling in. Some dropped to their knees, others stared at the ground, their faces etched with disbelief. The pain in the air was unmistakable, and you could feel it in your own chest, a dull ache that mirrored theirs.

Then your eyes fell on Alexia.

She was on her knees in the centre of the pitch, her hands covering her face as she tried to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions. The captain, the leader, the one who carried the weight of this team on her shoulders, was breaking right in front of you.

You could see her shoulders shaking, her body trembling with silent sobs, and it was too much. The sight of her like that, so utterly heartbroken, tore at you. Every instinct in you wanted to go to her, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay. But the truth was, you weren’t sure it would be.

The overwhelming loss was too much for you to bear in that moment. You couldn’t handle watching Alexia break down like this, not after everything that had happened between you, not when your own emotions were threatening to pull you under. You could see her lying on her back sobbing even when your eyes were closed.

So, you turned away.

Without a word, you headed toward the tunnel, your heart racing and your chest tightening with every step you took. You could barely see through the blur of tears forming in your eyes as you hurried into the medical room, seeking the solitude you needed to process what had just happened. You couldn’t stay out there, not with Alexia on the floor, not with the agony of defeat surrounding you.

Once inside the medical room, you leaned against the wall, taking deep, shaky breaths. You tried to block out the sounds of the celebration from Lyon, it was just another punch in your already beat up heart. But it was hard. All you could think about was Alexia, how broken she had looked, how much this loss meant to her, and how helpless you felt to not be able to comfort her.

On the pitch, Alexia wiped her eyes, the tears still flowing as she tried to gather herself. The pain of losing the Champions League final was unbearable, but it wasn’t just that. It was everything combined, the pressure, the expectations, the weight she has carried for so long. And now, the crushing defeat that brought back memories of 2019, a nightmare she thought she’d escaped, had returned and god did it hurt.

But amid the chaos, something was missing. Or rather someone was missing.

Alexia looked up, her eyes scanning the sidelines, searching for you. She needed you now more than ever. You had always been there for her, a steady presence in the chaos. And in this moment, all she wanted was to find you, to feel that connection again. To feel good again.

But you weren’t there.

Her heart clenched, a new wave of panic washing over her. She searched the faces around her again, but she still didn’t see you. The celebrations, the commiserations of her teammates, none of it mattered. She needed to find you.

Without thinking, Alexia got to her feet, her body aching but her mind focused on one thing: you. She moved quickly towards the tunnel, ignoring the flashes of cameras, and the questions from some of the staff still by the bench. None of it mattered now.

When she was inside, her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of you. Then, she caught a glimpse of the medical room door slightly ajar. Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way toward it, hoping, no praying, that you were there. That she could feel something other than defeat.

You were so in your head that you didn’t hear the soft creak of the door as it opened. You were seated on the edge of one of the treatment tables with your head in your hands, trying not to fully breakdown. You couldn’t face the team right now and you certainly couldn’t face Alexia after everything. You felt like you were betraying her in a way by not being out there, but it was just too much.

The you heard it, her soft voice coming from the doorway.

“Y/N?” it was tentative, nervous a little, but it was unmistakably her.

You lifted your head, your breath catching slightly in your throat when you saw Alexia standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her face still etched with the raw emotion of the loss. But there was something else in her gaze, something intense, something you couldn’t quite place.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. The weight of the game, of everything that had been left unsaid between you, sat poised in the air, heavy and unwavering.

"Why did you leave?" Alexia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. There was no anger in her tone, just a quiet pain and confusion.

"I couldn’t..." you started, but your voice faltered. "I couldn’t watch you like that. It was too much."

Alexia’s eyes softened a fraction, and she took a few steps closer to you. "You think it wasn’t too much for me?" she asked, her voice shaking. You couldn’t tell if it was from the sadness still surrounding the day or the hurt you have now caused her. "You think losing this, after everything... was something I could just handle on my own?"

You looked away, the guilt rising in your chest, making it harder to keep your emotions in check. "I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to help you. I didn’t know if I was allowed to help you."

"I don’t need you to say anything," Alexia said, her voice thick with emotion. "I just need you there. With me. I’ve already lost one important thing tonight. I’m not losing you, too."

Her words hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, the intensity of them taking your breath away momentarily. You looked up at her, your heart beating out of your cheat as the weight of it all settled between you. The loss, the heartbreak, the months and months of tension between you, it all lead to this moment.

You watched as Alexia took a step closer, her hands shaking as she reached out for your own. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered. “Not after everything, I know I’ve pushed you away, I know I’ve made mistakes, but … I want you. No, I need you. I need you with me, and not just because you are a part of this team. As more, with me.”

Her confession hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. You could see the slight fear in her eyes behind the determination, the fear you knew of losing something else, someone else, important.

"I’m here," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stood up, closing the distance between you. "I’m here, Ale. I want and need you too."

And that was all she needed.

Without another word, Alexia closed the gap between you, her lips crashing into yours in a kiss that was filled with all the emotions she had been holding back for so long. It was desperate, intense, and slightly hurried but it was everything. Everything she hadn’t been able to say, everything she had felt but hadn’t been able to express, was in that kiss.

You kissed her back, your hands sliding up to cup her face, feeling the warmth of her skin still slightly damp from a mix of tears and sweat, and the familiar softness of her lips. The weight of the loss, of the heartbreak, melted away in that moment, and all that remained was the two of you. It was always the two of you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, Alexia rested her forehead against yours, her breathing ragged as she whispered, "I’m not losing you."

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with emotion. "You’re not losing me. Not now, not ever."

The kiss lingered between you, as did the warmth of being pressed against the woman you loved, there was a mixture of unspoken emotions still on the tip of your tongues but now wasn’t the moment. The reality of where you were crept back in when the roar of the crowd could be heard outside, the faint celebrations of the Lyon players. As much as you wanted to stay in this quiet, life altering moment with alexia, you knew she would need to return to the pitch.

A soft knock interrupted the peaceful silence.

"Alexia?" It was Leila’s voice, quiet but insistent. "We need to be back on the pitch for the medals."

Alexia exhaled heavily, her forehead still resting against yours, her eyes closed as if she wasn’t ready to face the world outside just yet. But she nodded, knowing there was no escaping this part. You gently placed your hand on her arm, offering a small, supportive smile.

"You need to go," you said softly. "They’re waiting for you."

Alexia pulled back, her eyes still red from earlier, but the strength in them was returning. "Come with me?"

“Always.” You nodded, squeezing her hand before leading her toward the door.

Leila gave you both a knowing look when she saw the two of you walk out together with your hands connected, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she offered a small smile and gestured toward the tunnel.

Once you all made it back onto the pitch, Alexia and Leila went off to join the rest of the team in the line for the silver medals. The atmosphere was heavy around them, the weight of the crushing loss still taking its time to sink in. but behind that upset and sadness you could feel the determination in the air. Even if they were defeated this year, you knew they would go again next year, and as always, together.

As Alexia stood with her teammates lined up with her, waiting for her medals to be placed around her neck, she glanced at you. Standing off to the side but there, ever present you. There was something softer in her gaze now, gone was the torment of the first goal conceded, gone was the full weight of the loss, replacing it was something that you hadn’t seen before.

When the medal ceremony final started and Alexia walked to get hers, she accepted it with a quiet nod, her fingers barely brushing over it before she let it hang loosely around her neck. The team all stood together for the photo they all knew they had to take but all didn’t want to. The photo that would remind them of how close they had come. A bittersweet memory captures in a flash.

Once the photo was done everyone started to part ways. Some going to find their loved ones in the crowd, others taking a few steps away to give themselves a quiet moment. Alexia though had one more thing left to collect before she could join the rest of them.

The Golden Boot.

She had been the top scorer of the tournament, her performances throughout the campaign nothing short of extraordinary. But now, standing with the silver medal hanging loosely around her neck, Alexia looked anything but ready to celebrate her individual achievement. You knew she wouldn’t have cared for it that much even if they had won the whole thing, but it felt cruel to get it without the win.

As her name was called to receive the Golden Boot, she hesitated, her eyes dark with exhaustion and sadness. She glanced at you, standing off to the side, and you could see it. You could see the reluctance, the pain etched into her tear-streaked face. It broke your heart slightly, even though you knew that pain would fade.

You took a step forward, offering her a gentle smile, but you could feel her hesitation, her body still rooted in place. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to stand there in front of the cameras, holding a trophy when her heart was shattered by the team’s loss. She didn’t want to accept a single award when her team didn’t get what she thinks they should have together.

But you knew how important this was, even if she couldn’t feel it right now.

So, with that thought you walked up to her, you placed a hand on her arm, your voice soft but full of conviction. "Ale, I know it’s hard to think about right now, but even on the worst day, you achieved the best."

She looked at you, her brow furrowed in confusion, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her.

"You won the Golden Boot," you continued, your eyes never leaving hers. "It might be hard to take in at this moment, but this is a major achievement. You don’t want to forget it. And I certainly don’t want to."

Alexia’s eyes softened, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she took in your words. There was still pain there, still heartbreak from the loss, but you could see a flicker of recognition. Something in her eyes that showed that she understood that even in the midst of defeat, she had achieved something remarkable. Something that in a month or two she would want to acknowledge and celebrate with her team and loved ones, just not now.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she nodded. "I just... I don’t feel like I deserve it right now. Not after this."

You stepped closer, your voice steady and reassuring. "You deserve it more than anyone. You’ve worked harder than I have seen from any other player, and no one can take that from you, not even Lyon. This is your moment, Ale. Your incredible achievement. Own it."

For a moment, she just stared at you, her eyes searching yours for reassurance. Then, slowly, she nodded again, a soft, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She couldn’t appreciate this now, but she knew you were right, and she would later, when the sting of the loss faded.

With a gentle push from you, Alexia stepped forward and made her way towards the podium. The cameras flashed as the Golden Boot was handed to her, and she accepted it with grace, even if her heart wasn’t fully in it.

She held the trophy in her hands, but her eyes were still tinged with sadness, her tear-stained face a reminder of the battle she had just lost. But even as the pain lingered, there was a quiet strength in her, an acknowledgment that this achievement mattered, well would matter just like you said. That it was something to be proud of, no matter how bittersweet the moment.

As she was asked by the photographers to pose with the trophy, her mind ran back to the loss. The sadness in her eyes captured forever for people to see. She caught your gaze, saw the pride and quiet admiration in your eyes and that gave her the strength to square her shoulders and smile slightly.

With a deep breathe she held the Golden Boot in front of her, ignored the flashing of the cameras that were capturing the moment forever. And although the smile on her face was faint, it was there, a small demonstration to everyone that despite the heartbreak of the day, she had achieved something worth smiling for.

When she made her way back to you after the photos, you could see the sadness was still the major emotion clinging to her, but alongside it was gratitude.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “For being here with me. For reminding me.”

You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a stray tear from her cheek. “Always.”

The flight back to Barcelona was going to be quiet, the exhaustion from the match and the emotions of the night weighing heavily on everyone. The plane hummed softly as the team settled into their seats, some player lost in their own thoughts, some chatting quietly about the match and what they could have done to change it.  

You had planned to sit quietly somewhere near the back, giving the team space to process the loss. But as you made your way down the aisle, Alexia’s hand gently caught yours, stopping you in your tracks.

"Sit with me?" she asked, her voice soft but sure. “Please.”

You hesitated for just a moment, glancing around the plane. The team was scattered in their seats, most of them already focused on their phones or staring out the windows. No one was really paying attention, but this felt... different. Public, in a way that you and Alexia hadn’t been before. Even if it as only the team you both knew and cared for so much.

But Alexia didn’t seem to care. Her eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen around the team. She was letting her guard down, and this time, she wasn’t trying to hide it.

With a small smile, you nodded and slid into the seat beside her. As the plane took off, you felt Alexia’s hand slip into yours, her fingers lacing together with yours in a quiet, intimate gesture. She leaned her head against your shoulder, the weight of the day finally catching up with her. You rested your head on top of hers, letting her know you had her.

For a while, you just sat there in comfortable silence, the hum of the plane a soft backdrop to the steady rhythm of her breathing. You could feel the tension slowly melting away as she relaxed into you, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been building all night.

At some point, Alexia’s breathing became deeper, more rhythmic. She had fallen asleep on your shoulder, her head nestled against you in a way that felt so natural, so right. You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection as you carefully adjusted your position to make sure she was comfortable. Letting her head tuck further into you and away from the prying eyes you knew were to come.

And you were right, the peace didn’t last long.

From across the aisle, you spotted Mapi grinning mischievously, her phone in hand. She was clearly taking a photo of Alexia asleep on your shoulder, her eyes glinting with amusement. You rolled your eyes playfully and stuck your tongue out at her, quickly raising your hand to cover the part of Alexia’s face that was visible.

Mapi chuckled quietly, snapping the photo anyway before mouthing, "Too late!" She gave you a cheeky wink before turning back to her seat, clearly pleased with herself. Ingrid obviously smacking the woman upside her head that just tore more chuckles from the blonde.

You shook your head, but the moment was too sweet to be annoyed. Instead, you glanced down at Alexia, still peacefully asleep, and let the warmth of the moment settle over you. It didn’t matter if the team was starting to notice, Alexia had made it clear that she didn’t care they would notice. She wasn’t hiding this, and neither were you.

The flight continued, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a quiet sense of contentment. The pain of the loss still lingered, but in this small moment, with Alexia resting beside you, it felt like everything was falling into place. Maybe just maybe you could stay as Alexia Chica Medica.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Run, Rabbit, Run

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @fuckyeahphelpstwins-blog

Request: “Fred Weasley with Playboy reader”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't know whether to go down the ‘reader is a playboy model’ route, or the ‘reader dresses as a playboy bunny’ route. So I just thought “I’ll start writing and see where it takes me”. For one of my earlier twin shorts, I added ‘Bunny’ as a nickname given by George, but I think it's time for Fred to steal it.

T/W: Unprotected sex, Bathroom sex, Mirror sex

Being a businessman had its perks. After paying Harry back for the loan on the shop, the twins felt as if they were rolling in money. For the first few months, all they did was travel and enjoy the perks of having their first taste of freedom and a paycheck. They travelled across the south of England, showing their wares and merchandise to both the young and old, the rich and poor. They were even invited to have lunch with some of the big name toy companies to discuss branching out.

They didn't pay attention to the posters aligning the clubs walls, thinking it to be regular tat about prices and menus. But if they had, they would have seen the promotion of a ‘playboy party’. Maybe then they wouldn't have been so shocked to see various beautiful women strutting around the venue in skimpy leotards and bunny ears. They seemed to have taken the place of the wait staff, some were even flirting with the business men who drooled over their youth and beauty. The businessmen fawned over these young women like they were the first flowers of spring.

The hostess (also adorned with bunny features) led the twins to their booth where a gentleman sat in a crisp suit, a whiskey glass resting in his hands. The twins had had plenty of business meetings before, but this one felt contradictory. It was professional, yet the giggling bunnies that surrounded them felt almost like having a meeting in the middle of a themed strip club night. Maybe Fred would have kept his thought track on the business straight and narrow if you hadn't wandered over to his table.

That tight little black leotard and that irresistible pom pom of a tail just drove him wild. You even reminded him of a bunny. Innocent, tender. The picture of naivety that just called to him. Sure, you weren't dressed so innocently, but he could tell by that little glimmer in your eye that you didn't walk as big a walk as your heels suggested. Fred could hear your heels before he even laid eyes on you, and he fell hard.

You had always dreamed of being a model, to see your photo in the latest magazine or even on a big billboard. Some told you to dream on while others decided to open the door for you. Sure, prancing around in a bunny costume wasn't exactly modelling, but these were the type of people that could hand you your dream on a silver platter. And besides, flaunting never hurt anyone.

The ginger pair that came through the doors of the club didn't exactly look well to do. Their dull orange suits stood out in a sea of black pinstripes and navy linen. They didn’t scream money, but your legs carried you to their table before you could even stop them. You leaned down, your elbows on the table.

“See anything on the menu you like, gentlemen?”

While George and the potential investor gave their orders, Freds eyes stayed glued to you. Your eyes, your face, your curves, your legs. Anything that wasn't hidden was a feast for his eyes. He didn't need a menu to know what he wanted, but taking his order home with him would take some persuading. Fred’s eyes looked back up at yours only to find them looking right at him, an expectant look at your face. He kept his cool, a sly grin on his face.

“Well rabbits not on the menu, but i'm sure a pretty bunny like yourself wouldn't mind making an exception if I fancied a little taste”

Although you were used to comments like these, they made you blush every time. You let out your usual giggle and brushed your hand against his arm.

“Oh stop it or you’ll make this bunny blush”

Fred knew how cliche this was. He was no better than a hound dog. But instead of barking at this bunny, the bunny was driving him barking mad. He watched you saunter off, that fluffy little tail on your leotard capturing his attention. When the round of drinks came out a moment later, he couldn't believe his eyes when he lifted his glass only to find a note tucked into the fold of the napkin.

‘Meet me by the bathrooms X’

Now that was an offer he couldn’t turn down. Fred excused himself and left George to discuss business. The sight of you leaning against the wall beside the women's bathroom made his smirk widen. He pushed the door to the women's room open and gestured inside, following you in after.

Luckily for the both of you, the door had a lock. Meaning that no tiny bathroom stall was needed. As soon as that lock clicked, his hands went to your waist to lift you onto the sink counter. No words were needed as your lips found his. Red lipstick smeared and transferred, painting his own lips. Your hands snaked around his neck to pull his face closer. You wanted to see just how many lipstick kisses you could leave on his skin.

Fred pulled back and lifted you from the counter to turn you around and bend you over, your face inches from the mirror. Your hair was slightly messed up but your lipstick took the most of the carnage. Fred really couldn't help himself as his hands massaged their way up your thighs. That soft little bunny tail was just sitting there, he couldn't not tug on it.

The tight leotard fortunately wasn't too tight around your crotch, meaning that he could pull the gusset to the side and give himself access to the thing he craved most in this moment. Considering you had people fawning over you every day, he was honoured to find you wet for him. Fred’s fingers trailed through your folds, collecting your juices like a man finding water in the desert. He brought those fingers to his lips and sucked your sweet juices from them. This little bunny was sweeter than strawberries and cream.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled his throbbing cock out before his hands returned to their natural place on your hips.

“Maybe if you beg nicely, little bunny, I’ll give you a nice big cock to hop on”

Fred may have been just as eager as you were, but he just knew you'd sound so pretty if you begged him to fuck you. He wanted to hear you say his name…which he had yet to tell you. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot.

“Beg Freddie to fuck your little bunny cunt and I’ll let you cum before I go”

He could hear the soft whine that slipped from your lips, making him chuckle and press his lips behind your ear. He had to hold himself back from sliding deep inside of you. Good girls begged for what they wanted.

“Please fuck me, Freddie. Fuck my little bunny cunt until I soak my little cotton tail”

Fred’s eyes lit up when you did as he asked. How could he refuse such pretty begging? He lined his tip up with your eager entrance and thrust in with such force, you nearly kissed the mirror screwed to the wall before you. It was hard to stop the moan that was threatening to escape your throat, one that could alert any passing patrons to your unprofessional activity. There was most likely a queue already forming outside of the ladies room.

His cock pummelled your insides, making more of your juices coat his shaft. His grip on your hips was tight while his other hand tangled in your hair to pull your head up.

“Look at that pretty face. I bet you wouldn't let those other guys smudge your lipstick. You wouldn't bend over the counter for them, would you bunny?”

You looked at him in the reflection, trying to keep your eyes from closing in bliss. Every thrust of his hips made it hard to talk in anything other than whines and moans. His cock pulsed inside of your tight hole.

“No, just you, Freddie. No one else. Please, I need to cum”

Fred chuckled and gripped your hair tighter, using it to fuck himself deeper.

“Well, well, well, turns out my little bunny is actually a minx. You wanna cum on my cock, you’ve gotta be a good girl and look at me while you make a mess”

Your eyes stayed glued to his, watching every expression that crossed his face as he pummelled your insides. The way his brown eyes glazed over and his mouth fell open with every squeeze of your walls. His grip on your hip tightened before he came, his cum painting your insides as your own orgasm hit. The scent of sex permeated the air, the sound of your panting bounced off of the tiles.

Fred pulled his cock out of you before readjusting your gusset back into place. He was determined to keep a little piece of himself inside of you while other men undressed you with their eyes. He smirked at the sight of your face. Your mascara had started to run from just how good it felt. He stroked his hand along your hips, holding you up as you came down from your high. He tucked himself back into his trousers before pulling something out of his pocket and stuffing it into your bra.

With one last wink, he left you in the bathroom. You pulled the item out of your bra to find the napkin you gave him earlier. Flipping it over, you found something that made you grin.

A phone number, followed by ‘Call me, Little Bunny’

[sakuraharuno156]

I was about to not answer that, but... I'm too stubborn to leave you in the dark about how sh*tty Hinata is and why every woman with a right mind should hate her, and every person who doesn't hate women should hate her as well ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First of all, did I ever said she is the only sh*t/easy to hate character? No.

But

There are characters that are villains and they are presented as villains to the public, so I (personally, you do you boo ❤️) don't see a point in hating them. You know you shouldn't follow Danzo as a role model - he is a villain.

Hinata is supposed to be a background character but on "the right side".

It's important to show all the flaws and mistakes of "non-villains", because they tend to be rewarded for bad behavior and it shows a bad massage to young people watching/reading it (and Naruto is a Shonen, so it is essentially made for children/teenagers).

Hinata is a stalker who got with a guy she was stalking - she got rewarded FOR A CRIME.

Hinata is a weak woman who always needs saving and needs a man to survive - she got rewarded for never doing a thing. All she can do is what she was given on a silver platter the moment she was born.

Hinata is a girl with no personality, no talent, no ambition, all she has is obsession - she got rewarded for being a pick me girl, who never cared for anything or anyone (besides the guy she likes).

It's easy to see her mistakes as "the right thing to do" because - hey, if you can stalk someone into a relationship, then why not continue to do so? Awfull. 🤷‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now to the "points":

1.) The plot could have progressed without Hinata in Pain arc.

Let me remind you that team Guy was on their way and Guy was able to nearly k*ll jubidara. You think that he couldn't fight Nagato, but Hinata could? Funny.

But why didn't they help? Oh yes, BECAUSE THEY HAD TO SAVE HINATA.

Also, it's not like I made it up that she was a liability, it was stated IN MANGA.

1. First to Hinata DIRECTLY.

2. Then to Guy.

Guy would get in a way, but Hinata could help? Hilarious.

Also, Nagato wanted Naruto alive so Naruto wouldn't die without Hinatas interference - he would be just less broken by the whole encounter.

The only "positive" you can find is the fact that Naruto met Minato, but that also means that Hinata pushed Naruto to such hatred and despair that he GAVE HIMSELF UP, HE BECAME A MONSTER HE TRIED TO NEVER BE. He destroyed the village and was terrified that he killed villagers. He was in such bad mental state that he was hurting on the outside.

Also, "noone gives a f*ck" that she wanted to get her own guard punished (propably k*lled because Hyugas are not lenient in their punishments) for a selfish confession? You ok?

2.) Did I say I want her to heal Shikamaru? No.

I said that she's a bad person for not even CARING that he's dying. Her being jealous for a guy dying is LITERALLY CRAZY.

Everyone is happy that Shikamaru is alive, but "I want to stand beside Naruto too". B*TCH HE WAS DYING. SHOW SOME CONSIDERATION FOR YOUR COMRADE WHO WAS DY*NG FIGHTING THE SAME BATTLE AS YOU WERE.

Geez, that's pathetic and WRONG AF.

3.) Hinata didn't care for her teammates one bit.

Written exams are about teamwork and caring for your teammates? Let Hinata make them all thrown out for Naruto-kun 👉👈.

Her teammate is fighting? Let Hinata care only about Naruto-kun 👉👈.

Her teammate is being carried out by MEDICS? Let Hinata go to Naruto-kun (Who was 100% fine) first and treat her teammate as an afterthought 👉👈.

The fact that in an exam where YOU NEED TO RELY ON YOUR TEAMMATES, Hinata can't be bothered is baffling.

4.) "The whole Hyuga sh*t is not Hinatas problem" because...?

She's not a Hyuga? Or she's not a daughter of the head of Hyuga clan?

If your family is slave owner and you benefit from it, but you don't care to change it - YOU ARE A SLAVE OWNER.

I hope I don't have to explain to you why it makes her A BAD PERSON.

Also, please read the manga, because:

You saying Hiashi "loathes her" is just funny or straight up delusional. Hinata is weak, so Hiashi doesn't care to train her - that's it. That doesn't mean that he wouldn't protect her.

People like to imagine Hiashi as abusive when he cares for Hinata more than Naruto ever did 🤷‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, in conclusion:

Hinata is irrelevant at best and absolutely UNBEARABLE at her worst. She is just a bad person who enjoys making it worse for everyone, because she is selfish af 🤷‍♀️.

Also, don't use the word "r*t*rd*d". It's a slur, and when you grow up - you'll (hopefully) regret it.

To learn more, you can see here:

https://www.specialolympics.org/stories/impact/why-the-r-word-is-the-r-slur

Bye ✨️

"…So you claim Hinata had no consideration for life of anyone other than Naruto... and then use a screenshot from the manga of her literally showing consideration for the wellbeing of someone who isn't Naruto."

Considering how things went after Neji vs Naruto, chances are that things changed in the Hyuuga family for those other than just Neji. Even if not, Hinata risking her life =/= a lack of consideration for anyone's life other than Naruto's, despite consequences. Or are you saying you’ve never done anything without carefully considering every single possible consequence first?

But hey… "Tell me you didn’t read my ask properly without telling me you didn’t read my ask properly".

"Or are you saying you've never done anything without carefully considering every single possible consequence first?"

First of all, sure, everyone did, but not necessarily when the consequences are:

1) you will just get in a way of a battle and be a great inconvenience instead of helping

(of which she was aware of)

2) getting your guard punished/possibly killed

3) you hurting the person you are supposed to "help" (I'm not gonna repeat myself, you can read it here)

4) you dying for no reason

5) if you somehow don't get killed, you becoming a burden to medics who could devote their time to people who did help or got hurt by ricochet of the attack.

Second of all, you are putting it in a way that implies that Hinata did that only once, and you are wrong.

At some point of someone consistently doing the same thing you have to admit they either do that maliciously or that they are plain stupid.

I'm just gonna bring a few examples (that I talked about before over and over, but I'll do that again, especially for you)

Shimamaru: almost died

Hinata: "But I want to stay beside Naruto too"

Does she care? No. Naruto-kun. That's all she cares about.

But maybe that's because they weren't too close, because who cares about a person from your class that is your comrade in war, he's not Naruto-kun.

How about her own teammate BEING CARRIED OUT BY MEDICS?

The oiment Hinata has is more important for Naruto-kun, who is completely fine.

Who cares about Kiba, he is just being taken by medical team, but he can be an afterthought, they are just teammates after all.

How about her family?

Neji, who will be punished for hurting her (because, as you recognize YOURSELF, it's before Naruto vs Neji fight, so the punishment WILL BE THERE), who asked her TIME AND TIME again to just give up. Why will he do that, huh? Maybe because he had known what happened TO HIS FATHER FOR JUST THINKING ABOUT HER IN A BAD WAY.

Anyway, how about making Neji hurt her, then provoking him by RUBBING IT IN HIS FACE THAT HE IS BELLOW HER?

Neji just said (again) that she should give up and stop the suffering, she just casually mentions that he is "lost and suffering" because he's not in the main family.

(And before you say it was nice of her, NEJI AND THEREFORE MANGA showed us he didn't appreciate it, and the guard also saw that Neji was provoked and WAS ABOUT TO CHARGE AT HER FOR THAT COMMENT)

But ok, maybe they weren't close enough of a family, so it was acceptable to provoke him and get him to be punished, because you know...

Naruto-kun is watching, so...

How about closer family? How about her own sister?

(Now, I don't like to quote the movies because I prefer to base my opinion on canon manga only, but you, Hinata Fans, love it, so let's go)

(Credit to whoever made it, I can't find the original)

Hanabi was just kidnapped, but Hinatas mind is occupied, because well... Naruto-kun 🥺

BUT OK, MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, THEY DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH OF A BOND BETWEEN THEM TO CARE.

Let's look at the person who took care of her for her whole life, her guard, her family, let's look at Ko:

Oh wait, we have already seen it.

It doesn't matter who it is, if it's her comrade, friend, teammate, cousin, sister, guard. If that person is not Naruto-kun, their life or well being is irrelevant to Hinata.

She cares about Naruto, that's it. Nothing else and noone else matters.

Do you understand?

So back to the beginning:

At some point of someone consistently doing the same thing you have to either admit they do that maliciously or that they are plain stupid and when it comes to LIFE OF OTHER PEOPLE I'll say that it either way makes you a bad person 🤷‍♀️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, in conclusion:

I did read your ask, I just assumed (and that is my mistake, I apologize) that if you are protecting Hinata, you shoud know first thing about her, but not only you didn't read the manga, you didn't even read the parts that had Hinata in it.

So, please, first read at LEAST chapters that have Hinata in them, before you speak (It's not a lot, she is a background character after all) or I'm not gonna answer to you again, because I'm tired of repeating myself for a 1000th time.

[niteshade925]

April 20, Beijing, China, National Museum of China/中国国家博物馆 (Part 3 – Chinese Historical Fashion Exhibition):

Another cool exhibition that I visited while at the museum, showcasing popular fashion from different dynasties, historical artifacts, and some other relevant artifacts that gave a glimpse into the fashion of different dynasties. What's even cooler is that you can visit this exhibition virtually! (the site is in Chinese but I highly recommend it to everyone, there's so much more to the exhibition than the pictures I post here) Note that this exhibition does not only include historical hanfu, but also historical fashion of the 少数民族 that ruled some of the dynasties. This post will be pre-Ming fashion, and next post will be Ming and Qing era fashion. The reason is because Ming and Qing dynasties are the two most recent dynasties, so there are a lot of surviving artifacts from these two dynasties, which means there are 30+ pictures total and I couldn't fit them all into a single post.

First is a recreation of Han-era (202 BC - 220 AD) hanfu. The woman on the left is wearing a one-piece robe called a qujushenyi/曲裾深衣. The man on the right is wearing the outfit characteristic of Eastern Han dynasty (25 - 220 AD) civil officials, a combo of jinxianguan/进贤冠 hat and zaochaofu/皂朝服 clothing (皂 here means the color black, as in the word "青红皂白", or "blue and red, black and white"):

Left: model of a Han-era magpie tail cap/queweiguan/鹊尾冠 (you can see the influence of these Han-era men’s hats on the outfits of male characters in modern xianxia art). Right: recreation of a Han-era bian/弁 hat (the headscarf-like piece tied beneath the chin):

Line drawings of different hats worn by different types of officials based on artifacts and murals. The center and left sections are different hats of military officials (wuguan/武官 in Chinese), and the right section is different hat styles of civil officials (wenguan/文官 in Chinese).

Jumping back, this is a Warring States period (476 - 221 BC) iron daigou/带钩 inlaid with gold and jade and decorated with dragons. Daigou are basically belt buckles where the flat end is attached to one end of the belt, and the hook will hook into slits in the other end of the belt, so this is an extra fancy belt buckle:

On to Tang-era (618 - 907 AD) hanfu. From the left to right these are: the regular outfit of early Tang dynasty officials (color varies by rank, red is worn by fourth and fifth rank officials), the outfit of a female servant in early to mid Tang era, the ceremonial outfit of a Tang dynasty emperor, and the outfit of noblewomen in late Tang to Five Dynasties era (907 - 960 AD):

Song-era hanfu (front two) and Yuan-era Mongolian fashion (back two). Front left is the formal attire of Southern Song dynasty (1127 - 1279) civil officials (color varies by rank, red is worn by fourth and fifth rank officials), and front right is the regular outfit of women in Southern Song dynasty. Back left is the formal attire of Mongolian noblewomen in Yuan dynasty (1271 - 1368), and back right is the regular outfit of Mongolian men in Yuan dynasty.

Replicas of painted clay sculptures of women from Northern Song dynasty (960 - 1127), the original sculptures are in Hall of the Holy Mother/圣母殿 of Jinci Temple/晋祠 in Shanxi province:

By the way, in the case of Song dynasty, the descriptor "northern" and "southern" basically indicate time periods within Song dynasty (you can refer to the beginning of this post where I explain this in more detail).

And line drawing diagrams of different styles of futou/幞头 hats in Song dynasty based on paintings, murals, and other artifacts:

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Sex On Wheels. | Dabi x Hawks 🌶🔥🦅

Pairing: Dabi x Hawks, Keigo Takami x Touya Todoroki

Summary: Hawks is having the worst day ever. He's spent the day modeling in a magazine photoshoot at a goddamn retro roller rink. He's tired, he's overstimulated and now his clothes have gone missing. Wonder who took them!? Now Hawks is stuck wearing slutty lil short shorts and ruby red roller skates when he runs into a certain someone... Enemies to lovers. DabiHawks smut. A18+ MDNI

CW: Blowjobs, handjobs, mention of fucking, kissing, dirty talk

Bed Chem. | Dabi x Hawks

“You ready for the next round of photos, Hawks?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Ugh. No, he’s honestly not. But, whatever! The Number Two Hero’s gotta act the part, right? Photo-shoots are a necessary evil to maintaining his rating on The Hero Chart.

Hawks ruffles his feathers and stretches his arms high over his head as he waits for the makeup gal to touch up his eyeliner. She delicately dabs at his face with a wet cloth, cleaning away the makeup where it’s running down his cheek with sweat. With a flourish, she reapplies the liner. Her motions are delicate, languid. The way she applies each stroke with care stirs some warmth in the winged hero. He tries to seem appreciative as she finishes touching him up.

The makeup lady looks to be in her early 50s. Decked out in black, she fits right in on the set. She has a kind face with greying, flyaway hair tucked into a light blue bandana. She’s nice. Hawks immediately warms to her.

“Don’t worry dear.” She says as she uses a soft brush to dab some concealer under his bright golden eyes. “They said this would be the last shot for the magazine.” The doting tone causes his chest to ache. She has such strong mom vibes. It makes him briefly think about his own sad excuse for a mother and how she sold him to The Commission all those years ago – no. He shakes his head. He can’t let his thoughts go down that dark alleyway. Not right now. Not when he needs to be on.

“Thanks!” He says brightly as the woman folds up her caboodle and stands back to admire her handiwork. He takes the hand mirror she hands him and grins into it, admiring the sharp red wings she’s drawn across his eyelids. “This looks great. Seriously I can’t thank you enough.” He hands back the mirror and she nods gratefully. He doesn’t get to ask her name before he’s whisked back onto set.

“Alright, Hawks. This is the last set up we have for today. Just skate a few laps around the rink with the models and that should give us what we need.” The art director says, flipping through his clipboard of notes absentmindedly.

Hawks nods, eyes glazed over as he zones out. They’ve been at this for hours. It’s a photo shoot for some fashion magazine (or maybe it’s a women’s health publisher!? He’s done so many shoots lately he honestly can’t remember). He’s exhausted and oddly sore from holding so many poses under the hot studio lights. All he wants to do is go back to his quiet apartment, take a cool shower in the dark and fall asleep after a handful of minutes mindlessly scrolling on his phone. But unfortunately…hero duty calls. It’s sort of ridiculous how much popularity seems to matter with being a hero.

The past few hours have been spent down the block taking photos in a sleek, upscale fashion photography studio. For this last bit of the shoot, the Magazine thought it would be fun to have some pictures taken with more…”personality.” It is for that reason that the Magazine has rented out a local roller rink for this next part of the day.

The place is dated but has an odd sort of retro charm to it. The large rink has smooth, freshly waxed wooden floors that glint in the lowlight. The walls are mostly black with glow in the dark accents and corny 80s posters plastered all over the place. The rink has a goofy DJ booth situated in the center under an obnoxiously large disco ball.

And then…there’s Hawks and his final outfit. They’ve put him in a tight fitting white tank top tucked into the tiniest pair of red athletic shorts Hawks has ever seen. His muscular thighs are on full display for all to see, and he’s oddly embarrassed about it. There’s a reason Hawks usually wears layers of clothing while doing his hero work. Of course, it gets cold flying in the air. That’s a given. But his thick coat and pants also serve to hide his body from the greedy eyes of the public. He liked being cozy and protected from the prying eyes of the world. He could pretend to flaunt and flirt all he wanted, but at the end of the day he wanted some part of his body to feel like his.  It would be nice to have some sense of ownership over his own life.

But now here he is, in the world’s sluttiest little outfit, about to roller skate in circles while photographers captured pretty pictures of his confident façade. Jeez, this sucks.

He bends over and adjusts the striped high socks the costuming department had given him to wear under his bright red roller skates. This has got to be one of the worst outfits he’s worn in his entire life (And he’s worn some pretty atrocious outfits).

“Alright, places everyone!” The art director claps his hands and Hawks stands up and glides on his skates towards the middle of the rink track. There’s models everywhere wearing similarly slutty outfits – shorts and tank tops and high socks and bright 80s skates.

“Oh, Hawks.” The art director calls his way. The Winged Hero turns, eyebrows raised in a question. “What music do you want to listen to?”

Oh. That’s nice of them to ask. Hawks relishes in the tiny thing he’s been allowed to have control over. He bites his lip as he thinks it over.

“Can you play some 80s New Wave?” He asks, trying to sound like he doesn’t care if they do or not. The art director nods and waves for the sound tech to plug his iPhone into the DJ both audio jack.

“Alright, start skating everyone. We’ll call out suggestions as you go.” The photographers get into place on the outskirts of the rink. Hawks notes warily that a few of the photographers have been given skates of their own. This photo shoot is a fuckin’ lawsuit waiting to happen.

Nevertheless, he starts skating around the rink. The sooner he gets this over with, the better. As usual, he turns on the fucking charm. He chats with the models – all tall and beautiful and glowing as they grin and fake laugh at his jokes for the camera. He winks and flaps his wings flirtily and even skates on one leg just to give them some extra material to work with. The less direction he gets from the art director, the sooner he can leave.

Music starts to blast from the DJ booth – some top 40 pop crap that is most definitely not the 80s New Wave tunes that Hawks requested. Ugh.

They skate around for three full songs before something good finally comes on the playlist – it’s Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter. Now this Hawks can fuck with.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

Hawks starts to skate faster, maneuvering his way around the gyrating models hamming it up for the camera.

You're friendin' me up so we could connect And what are the odds? You sent me a text And now the next thing I know, I'm like Manifest that you're oversized I digress, got me scrollin' like Out of breath, got me goin' like

Damn Hawks is a slut for a good beat. He spreads his arms out wide and as he soars across the roller rink floor, he swears it feels like he’s flying. His red wings puff up behind him and spread wide as he makes a sharp turn. He glides in front of a row of cameras gracefully, grinning toothily at the photographers as he whips around on one foot and starts to skate backwards.

“That’s it, Hawks! Everyone match his pace – try to look carefree!” The art director calls out as he claps, directing the models to loosen up a bit. “Give me a few more laps around the floor and make me believe you’re having fun!”

Ooh (ah) Who's the cute boy with the white jacket And the thick accent? Like Ooh (ah) Maybe it's all in my head But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

Hawks is really getting into a groove now despite the burning exhaustion that’s starting to creep up his thighs. (Note to self – add roller blading to the workout regimen, you’re clearly missing some key muscle areas!). He passes a cute male model – a tall guy with dark hair and a nose piercing who is also wearing an offensively tiny pair of shorts – and winks. The model blinks in surprise, clearly flattered, before he smiles widely back. Hawks strikes up a conversation as they skate side by side, shamelessly flirting with the guy and complimenting his equally skimpy outfit. The guy is kind of funny and definitely cute. With his dark hair and pierced features, he reminds Hawks a little of someone, but he can’t quite put his finger on who…

How you pick me up, pull 'em down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things That's bed (bed) chem (chem) How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed Are you free next week? I bet we'd have really good-

“Alright, that’s a wrap! Everyone bring it in.” The music cuts and Hawks glides his way towards the Art Director alongside all of the models. As the music fades and the disco ball lights cruise to a stop, exhaustion begins to sink into all of his muscles.

“Thanks Hawks! Great job, everyone! I think we have what we need.” The art director and the camera people all huddle up to review a few shots and seem quite pleased. Hawks lets his shoulders relax. He looks up at the disco ball sadly, feeling his own sparkle fade along with the music.

“I’m so sorry! So so incredibly sorry! Let me go and check the photo studio again, maybe someone brought them back over to our first location by mistake?” A PA helping out the wardrobe department frantically types into her cell phone as Hawks looks on, exasperated. He’s trying to maintain his usual easygoing public persona, but Christ is it becoming harder by the minute to be nice. The girl hits send and looks up, tired eyes wide with panic. “Have I told you how sorry I am?”

“Hey.” He says, tight smile stretched across his face. He’s exhausted and sweaty and could really use a shower right now. “It’s a-oh-Kay! I know how stressful it is to run these things. Please take your time, I’m sure you’ll find them.”

The girl nods gratefully and sweeps off to find a production van so she can go checkout the photo studio for his clothes.

Yes, you read that right: his clothes. His entire duffle bag of clothing has gone missing. Someone has misplaced his sweatpants, t-shirt, sneakers annnnd his custom made black hoodie with large slits in the back to accommodate his wings.

So to top off an already exhausting day, he’s stuck in his embarrassingly miniscule shorts.

They’ve finished taking the hot lights down, reducing the temperature in the roller rink by about 40 fucking degrees. Cool AC drifts throughout the chasmy space. And that would be a great wonderful amazing goddamn thing if he weren’t wearing a paper-thin tank top. His nipples perk up at the cold air and stand out like sore thumbs in this paper bag of a shirt. He crosses his arms across his chest self consciously. Fuuuuck this goddamn day to all hell.

In the wake of the production team packing up the lighting equipment, Craft Services has set up an impressive spread of food beside the rink. Most of the crew and models are snacking and laughing in the tiny cafeteria off to the left where the rink likely hosts kid’s birthday parties. (Hawks honestly wouldn’t know – he didn’t have any birthday parties as a kid. It just seems like the kinda thing people would do in a goofyass place like this).

The place is so goddamn loud. The crew is chattering and laughing and calling out to one another across the space as they snack and pack up equipment. Someone’s put on background music and it’s the worst type of rap. Craft Services is banging around pots and crockery as they put out new dishes on the food table. All of the layers of sound and noise are far too much for Keigo’s sensitive ears and feathers, and he feels so incredibly over stimulated he doesn’t know what to do. He prays that the PA can find his noise canceling headphones, but he’s low on both patience and hope.

Hawks is grateful to see that everyone is either wrapped up in the little after party or in packing up photo equipment. For once, he goes unnoticed.

He rubs his hands up and down his goosebumped arms a few times and tries to consider his options. The wardrobe department can likely cut wing holes into a shirt and jacket in a pinch. He’s sure they must have something comfy he can wear for his flight home. Or maybe he can pay one of the PAs to run out to a local clothing store with his credit card. The problem with either of these options is that they are going to take time. Hawks really isn’t in the mood to stick around this neon hell much longer.

He takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly to regulate his nervous system. Today is just one of those days when everything is out of his control and he just needs to – ugh he hates this phrase – go with the flow.

Okay, first priority. He needs a quick reset. If he finds the restroom, he can wipe off this damn makeup and splash his face with some water. Do some breathing exercises. Calm down his nervous system.

He awkwardly skate-walks (oh yeah, did I mention that he’s still wearing the goddamn ruby red-Dorthy-There’s-no-place-like-home-fucking-roller skates? Right. Because someone misplaced his Nikes. And to top it all off he can’t walk around in just the high striped socks because someone broke a stage light bulb and no one will let Japan’s Number Two Hero accidentally get a foot full of glass.) across the foam floor towards the men’s restroom.

He pushed open the door to see a few stalls with floor to ceiling doors alongside some urinals lining the lime green walls. All the neon on top of all the noise is making him feel a little woozy with overstimulation.

As he moves to enter the restroom some of his feathers on his wings prickle to life in warning, but he breathes deeply to calm them down. When he’s over stimulated like this his body tends to react to everything as a fight or flight situation. If anyone else is using the restroom right now it could be setting off his feathers, which can pick up on even the smallest of nearby vibrations.

Calm down. He repeats over and over in his mind as he tries to shake his feathers back into place. The only villain here is whatever production assistant misplaced my goddamn pants. Now let’s focus on solutions.

The weather’s not too cold out – maybe he should just hedge his bets and fly home in these stupid little shorts. If he flies high enough, there’s not shot that anyone would see him looking like such a dumbass.

Where the flooring outside was a foamy material that was easy to maneuver on skate wheels, the restroom floor is smooth black linoleum. As the door swings shut behind him he sees a “NO SKATES, SNEAKERS ONLY IN RESTROOMS” sign posted near the doorframe. Damn. He carefully places his steps and grips one of the sinks to minimize his rolling. The skates love the linoleum floor and seem to want nothing more than for him to freeskate his way around the dinky little restroom. Fat chance.

He grips the sink with both hands and stares at the drain for a few moments, breathing deeply in and out as he tries to master himself. The strategic side of his brain scrambles to make an actionable game plan. Something easy that will get him from Point A (this shitty day and this shitty roller rink) to Point B (home).

Alright Keigo. Splash some water on your face. Then make a beeline for that nice makeup lady and ask her to help you find someone form wardrobe to help you out of this mess. It’ll be fine. All you’ll need to do is crank up that Number Two Hero charm.

Alight. Yeah. That’ll work.

Feeling a tiny bit more confident now that he has a plan, Keigo pulls himself up to look at himself in the long counter mirror. His sharp eyes widen in surprise and he almost growls from the back of his throat.

There, in the mirror he can see Dabi standing behind him, leaning against the lime green florescent wall as casual as you please. He’s wearing a tight black turtleneck sweater tucked into loose black canvas pants. His hands rest in his pockets, looking harmless. A toothy grin stretches across his face, his bright teeth contrasting sharply with his mottled, patchwork skin. His bright aqua eyes are narrowed threateningly as if to say “caught ya.”

“Hey birdie.” He says softly. “Miss me?”

“Fuck Dabi. What the hell are you doing here. There are civilians around. I’m at work right now.”

Dabi smirks and mouths ‘at work’ as if it’s a fun little joke between the two of them.

“That your new work uniform?”

Dabi takes a step towards the door, and Keigo tenses.

“Hey, now Hawks. Calm down.” He says easily as he reaches out a hand to click the door’s lock into place. “Just ensuring us some privacy.”

“How’d you even get in here?” Hawks asks, on edge. He’s exasperated – he can’t catch a fucking break today.

“You know the funny thing about sets like this…you just walk around in black and no one bats an eye.” Dabi says smoothly, looking down at Hawks with

Keigo grips the sink as he carefully turns himself around to face Dabi on his roller skates. His wings feel so cramped and hard to maneuver in this tiny space, but he somehow manages. Dabi waits for him to turn around, smirking all the while. This is so fucking embarrassing.

“I have a request for you from the Paranormal Liberation Army.”

“You mean you have another test for me.”

“You’re smarter than you look, pretty boy.” Dabi drawls, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the neon green wall. “The upper brass is not fully convinced you’re loyal to our cause yet.”

“Great. Got it. Just tell me what I gotta do and leave.” Keigo is practically seething.

“Wow, someone’s got their little hero panties in a twist.” Dabi quirks an eyebrow upwards in surprise. “What happened to you today? Usually you’re mister sunshine.”

Dabi’s face is suddenly very close. He lifts a scarred hand towards Keigo’s face as if he wants to touch it, but then thinks the better of it. His arm drops limply to his side.

“…something up?” He asks, his face dropping into a frown. Usually they’ll go back and forth with some infuriating banter. But tonight, Hawks is all teeth and anger. It’s unsettling.

“Just a shit day.” Hawks says through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need from me already and I’ll do it.”

Dabi takes a step back, considering him with more care.

“Nah. I’ll find you later this week and give you the assignment. Your vibes are off right now.”

“Of course my fucking vibes are off. I’m stuck in some godforsaken 80s fever dream wearing a cursed fuckin’ outfit.”

Dabi looks at him appraisingly, eyes lingering on the way Hawks’ slim waist dips into his short shorts. “It’s not so much cursed as it is…slutty.” The observation is more appreciative than mocking.

Keigo’s eyebrows fly up his forehead.

Slutty!?

Usually he’s so careful with how he shows emotion – so diligent about being the perfect little spy for The Hero Commission. But right now he’s tired and over stimulated and Dabi – his mother-fucking enemy – just called him slutty using a tone that makes Keigo want to melt into a puddle of hormones and arousal.

Dabi stares down at him, expression steely and unreadable.

The vibe in the little neon bathroom has shifted, and they both know it.

“Did you just call me…slutty?” Keigo preens a bit, trying to stand up straighter but failing miserably in his slippery skates. He leans back into the porcelain sink to keep from sliding to the ground.

“No I called your outfit slutty, shithead.” Dabi says, jerking his chin up at Hawks. His eyes narrow, a hunter surveying his prey. “Look at those fuckin’ shorts. It’s like you’re begging to be fucked or something.”

“Excuse me?” Keigo can’t believe his ears. His grip on the sink tightens. He can’t decide if he wants to throw a punch at Dabi’s pretty fuckin’ face…or if he wants to…kiss him!?

“You heard me, birdie.” And the guy fuckin’ smiles. He flashes those bright white teeth in a way that makes him look both gorgeous and terrifying.

At this point Hawks is extremely aware of two things:

Thing One: He’s always had a weird thing for Dabi since they first met at the Liberation Army headquarters a few months ago. Dabi is the only one who truly sees right through all of his Commission-trained charm and bravado – the only League member who still doesn’t quite trust Hawks. Hawks loves a good challenge. Relishes it. And Dabi is a challenge in so many delightful ways. And Dabi is hot. He’s so goddamn tall. And he’s just Keigo’s type – covered in piercings and emo accessories and dark and brooding. A perfect balance to the faux sunshine Hawks has been trained to radiate out at all times. Keigo’s never seen the man shirtless, but in the early morning moments between dreaming and waking he’s often imagined what could be laying in wait for him beneath those layers of leather and black clothing. Yes, Hawks is attracted to Dabi. There’s no way around that.

Thing Two: Keigo’s  little shorts are starting to feel…tighter. Keigo is an absolute sucker for teasing and dirty talk. And with all that Dabi’s saying to him right now…well, Keigo is getting hard and there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

And Dabi is noticing.

“All that for me, birdie?” Dabi says, eyeing Hawks’ package appreciatively. “Looks like it was worth my time to come all this way out here after all.

Keigo can’t hide the fierce blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Listen. Let’s drop the PLF shit for a bit.” Dabi says, shrugging his shoulders and holding his palms open, almost as if in surrender. “You know I don’t trust you, and no amount of “assignments” or “missions” are gonna prove your loyalty to me. I know you’re some sort of fuckin’ Hero Commission spy.”  Dabi lifts his hand to his ear so he can play with one of his earrings, twisting the piercing around in his finger. “But I don’t really give a shit about that work stuff right now. It sounds like we both had shit days, and there’s something I wanna do.”

He takes a step towards Hawks, slow and catlike. Hawks is on edge, wary. A base part of him revels in the intense look of Dabi’s bright aqua eyes. With a stab of surprise in his gut, he realizes that the hot, tall, pierced photo model he was rollerskating with had been reminiscent of Dabi.

Oh! That’s who that hot guy reminded me of. Hawks thinks as he tenses for some kind of blow or attack. “Hey, Dabi. You don’t model on the side, do you? I met a guy who looks like you earlier. Real emo and attractive in a weird, pierced sort of way.

Dabi stops in his tracks, inches away from Hawks. “You think I’m attractive in a…” Dabi snorts. “Weird, pierced sort of way?” What little air lies between them crackles with electricity.

“Well…” Oh shit, did he really just say that out loud? Yeah, he’s always thought Dabi is attractive. How could anyone not think that Dabi is attractive? He hadn’t meant to verbalize it, though.

“Shut up. Damn bird.” Dabi closes the gap between them, grabbing Hawks’ chin hard between his thumb and forefinger. Before the wing hero can send out a barrage of sharp feathers his way, Dabi smashes their lips together in an aggressive kiss.

Oh. Holy. Fuck.

Hawks moans into the kiss as their mouths connect again and again and again.

Dabi is a goddamn dream of a kisser. His style consists of hot open-mouthed kisses punctuated by nicks of staples and teeth. His bottom, toasted lip is a bit dry compared to the top one, but it feels good all the same when it slides against Hawks’ own wet mouth. Dabi leans forward, his arm snakes in between Hawks’ own hand and hip to rest on the sink so he can#dabihawks#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia#boku no academia#bnha#boku no hero#bnha manga#anime#keigo takami#mha hawks#hotwings#bnha hawks#mha touya#touya todoroki#bnha touya#dabi#todoroki touya#bnha dabi#hawks#HotWings#Dabihawks#dabi x hawks#hawks x dabi#keigo takami fluff#mha takami keigo#bnha keigo#Keigo Takami x Touya Todoroki#Todoroki#touya x keigo prop himself up. He uses his other hand to continue to hold Hawks’ face in a vice like grip as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

Hawks doesn’t know what to do with his hands or his body so he just focuses on the way that Dabi’s mouth and tongue dance across his own. Dabi licks the bottom of Hawks’ mouth before tugging his lower lip between his teeth. Hawks groans into it, letting Dabi do whatever the hell he wants. It’s delightful and sweet and dirty all at the same time.

When they finally break apart, they’re both breathing heavy. Dabi’s striking blue eyes are half-lidded as he gazes down at Hawks.

“Take off your shirt.” Dabi says in a low, gravely rasp. Hawks doesn’t need telling twice. He uses one hand to keep bracing himself against the sink (the damn roller skates are barely holding up his shaky legs right now), and uses the other to peel the thin tank top off of his quaking body.

“That’s better.” Dabi says, stepping back a bit so he can admire the hero’s chiseled physique. “I figured you were ripped, but holy shit.”

He slides his palm down Hawks’ neck and across the bulging muscles of his chest. “This is insane.” He dips his hand lower to feel the hero’s washboard abs before dipping a finger underneath the waistband of those godforsaken tiny shorts. Hawks hisses at the feeling of hot fingertips so close to the tip of his cock. He’s instantly rock hard and left wanting when Dabi slides his fingers back up and makes sure to snap the waistband of the shorts soundly against Hawks’ stomach.

Dabi must see the desperation in Hawks’ sharp eyes because he whispers: “Patience is a virtue, little hero.” He takes a step back from Hawks and discards his own shirt, pulling the turtleneck up and off of his head. It leaves his black hair looking fluffy and staticky. He then steps back towards the hero and leans his head down so he can kiss his way across Hawks’ jawline. Hawks can barely breathe he’s so turned on right now. Dabi continues to make his way down Hawks’ neck, stopping to suck on his pulse point. The winged hero moans at the feel of Dabi’s lips, rough and soft at the same time.

Dabi takes care to make out with Hawks’ neck for a bit – pressing those hot lips of his over and over to the delicate skin beneath the hero’s jaw and along his shoulder. Hawks could stand like that forever, letting Dabi lavish him with kisses and licks.

Hawks is taken by surprise when the scene escalates, and out of nowhere the villain drops to his knees. Before Hawks even knows what’s happening, Dabi has pulled his tiny shorts and underwear straight down to the ground. His proud cock bounces out, fully erect and standing ready for action against dense golden curls. Dabi takes a moment to admire it, licking his chapped lips as Hawks’ dick stands at attention, a drop of shiny precum clinging to the flushed tip.

“Knew you’d be pretty.” Is all he says before he practically inhales Hawks’ cock.

“Fuck – ah!” Hawks almost falls (well, rolls) over in surprise as Dabi licks the tip of his cock and takes it in his stapled mouth. The contact feels so deliciously good – Dabi’s mouth is warm and hot in all the right ways. It’s been so long since Hawks has had good head, and Dabi is most certainly going to give him good head.

Dabi wastes no time as he hollows out his cheeks and begins bobbing his head on Hawks’ dick. He snakes a hand up to the winged hero’s waist to hold him in place, ruby red roller skates be damned. His other hand makes its way upwards to grip at the meat of Hawks’ left thigh. His fingertips dig into the hard muscle, and somewhere in the back of Hawks’ hormone-addled mind, he knows that there will be bruise marks burned into his skin come morning.

Hawks’s cock feels like its in heaven, and his brain is hazy with lust as he looks down at this fucking god of a villain who’s sucking him off in a neon green roller rink bathroom.

Dabi throws him a brief but smug look with those sharp, turquoise eyes and it causes Hawks’ stomach to squeeze and flip. His heart pounds in his chest and he needs to remind himself to breathe, goddammit when Dabi pulls his mouth off with a loud “pop!” and begins licking up and down Hawks’ shaft.

“Fuck Dabi. Yeah – j-just like that.”

Dabi flutters his tongue across the sharp veins of Hawks’ dick, making his way upwards slowly. When he finally gets to the tip, he swirls his tongue around the sensitive space just beneath the head before sucking the thick member back into his mouth. Hawks sees stars.

Dabi continues on like that for a bit – alternating between licking and sucking and just generally doing magical things with his mouth as Hawks looks on, dumbstruck.

In a spark of inspiration, Dabi reaches up and puts his hands on Hawks’ slim hips, thumbs digging into the divots of muscle that fall into a “V” shape as his waist tapers off. The patchwork villain jerks the blonde’s hips forward slightly, and Hawks glides towards him. Dabi wraps his mouth deeper around Hawks’ cock, pushing and pulling the blonde back and forth across the linoleum floor on those stupid roller skates. He’s sliding in and out of Dabi’s mouth – absolutely face fucking the hell out of him in a languid, controlled sort of way.

It’s sexy.

It’s hot.

It’s far too much.

“Dabi.” Hawks practically sings as the villain picks up his pace, still using the roller skates to his advantage. Hawks can feel his orgasm building like kindling catching into a bonfire. “Dabi.”

“Hmm?” Dabi’s eyes flick up to look at him almost lazily as he continues to suck.

“I’m gonna…Shit that’s good! I’m gonna cum…” Hawks doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, being absolutely manhandled by his enemy. He feels heat prickle across his face as he chases his high in Dabi’s mouth.

The villain acknowledges Hawks by digging his fingers harder into the blonde’s sensitive hips with the intention of bruising. He continues his even pace – pushing and pulling Hawks’ cock in and out of his mouth with practiced skill. God does Dabi love roller skates right now.

“Dabiiii.” Hawks moans out through gritted teeth, feeling the orgasm begin to roll through him. When the dark haired villain doesn’t relent, Hawks figures he’s alright with getting cum in his mouth. He lets go – all of the days stress and exhaustion coming out of him in one golden wave of pleasure. His crimson wings fluff up and fan out behind him in ecstasy. He cums hard into Dabi’s mouth, the orgasm rolling from the base of his cock onto Dabi’s waiting tongue.

Dabi holds Hawks gaze – Blue eyes boring into Hawks’ golden-brown ones. Hawks shudders as he cums, watching Dabi’s hot mouth take everything he’s willing to give. For his part, Dabi is sure to keep sucking in time with Hawks’ orgasm, tasting the hero’s hot salty cum on his tongue. Dabi makes a show of swallowing, letting Hawks see the way that his mouth and throat are working overtime to accommodate the hero’s thick load.

Hawks comes down slowly, his sensitive cock still twitching as it pumps out the last remnants of pleasure. Dabi has brings a hand down from Hawks’ hips and wraps it around the hero’s sensitive base, slowly jerking at him as he comes back to himself. When he’s finally finished, Hawks all but collapses backward into the sink, panting as he desperately tries to catch his breath. Dabi releases the hero from his grasp, leaning back on his heals and wiping his juicy mouth on his sleeve.

He smirks up at the wing hero who’s currently looking fucked out and boneless. “That good?”

“Good enough. Clearly.” Hawks says, rolls his eyes. “Well you’re down there, mind unlacing these fuckin’ things?”

For once, Dabi doesn’t have a biting retort or complaint. He dutifully unties Hawks’ ruby red roller skates and helps him step out of them. Once out of the skates, the tiny shorts drop the remainder of the way down Hawks’ calves and land on the floor in a heap, leaving him in nothing but tall striped socks.

“Ugh note to self: never wear roller skates again. Fuck those are uncomfortable.” Hawks wiggles his toes on the linoleum and bends over to massage his calves and ankles.

“I dunno…I kind of liked them.” Dabi says, rising from the floor. Hawks closes the distance between them and slides his hands up into Dabi’s hair, pulling the villain’s mouth back to his own.

“Fuck.” Hawks says between kisses. “Who would have thought you could give head like that?”

Dabi smirks into each searing kiss, letting Hawks manhandle him desperately. The blonde lets a hand wander down Dabi’s neck and across his back, feeling the taught muscles there. He brings his other hand down to palm at the villain’s pants and is unsurprised to find him rock hard and wanting. Dabi rolls his hips into Hawks’ hand and laughs into his mouth at the contact.

“What you gonna do about that, hero?” He hisses before turning his face to lick up Hawks’ jawline. The blonde shudders at the hot, wet contact.

“Do you have a condom on you?” Hawks asks, breathless as he pulls away from Dabi’s face and blinks up at him, unsteady.

“What do I look like to you, a damn vending machine - ” Hawks claps a hand to Dabi’s mouth, cutting him off. He smirks up at the villain, rolling his eyes almost playfully.

“Alright, blowjob it is!” He pushes Dabi hard in the chest, guiding him to the neon green wall.

“Ugh.” The villain says, looking at the painted concrete wall with disgust. “This place looks like it’s covered in, like, a thousand STDs.”

“It’s called neon, dumbass.” Hawks holds his palm flat against Dabi’s chest, ensuring the dark haired man’s back is flush against the wall. There’s a crackle coming from the ceiling and Hawks glances upwards to see a vent to their left. Huh, they must have just turned on the AC. The chilly, mechanical breeze of air conditioning hits Hawks’ hot skin, cooling the sweat of his back. Goosebumps jump across his skin as he looks down at his naked body, suddenly feeling a bit too exposed.

“Hold that thought.” He makes a gesture for Dabi to stay where he is. The villain watches him, an almost bored expression coloring his eyes as Hawks scoops up his teeny tiny shorts and slips them back on, one leg at a time.

“Aw, the show’s over?” Dabi says flatly. Hawks whirls around to face him.

“Oh no, we’re just getting started.” Hawks tilts his head at Dabi, throwing on his charming camera-ready smile. For a moment, the villain seems frozen, almost speechless. Hawks is a little surprised – he knows his thousand-watt hero smile can have devastating consequences when executed correctly, but he never thought that Dabi would get caught up in it the same way his fans seem to.

Hawks takes a step back towards Dabi, crowding up into his space. He slides his hand up to grip at Dabi’s jaw, forcing him to tilt his head down to fully look Hawks in the face.

“You think I’m pretty, don’t you?” the hero whispers pompously.

Dabi glowers down at him. “Well I wouldn’t suck off just any ugly bastard, now would I? I’m selective.”

Hawks lets go of Dabi’s face and roughly pushes it aside. “That’s not good enough. You want my mouth on your cock? Do better.”

“I don’t need to take this shit from you.”

“Um. Actually, you do. I don’t see any other handsome heroes lining up to top you off.”

Dabi actually smiled at this – his face stretching into a full grin that goes all the way up to his eyes.

“I like it when you’re feisty.” He says, dipping his head to catch Hawks’ mouth in another scorching kiss. The contact leaves Hawks breathless and wanting more. “Of course I think you’re goddamn beautiful. I wouldn’t want you so badly otherwise.” Dabi says, pulling his face away from the hero’s.

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Hawks says softly before attacking Dabi’s neck with his mouth. He licks a hot stripe across the other man’s throat, then finds a piece of clean, unblemished skin to bite into. He lets his canines press down on the delicate skin before he sucks the spot into his mouth. A hickey blooms instantly beneath his lips and Dabi groans, delighted at the mix of simultaneous pain and pleasure.

“Do that again.” The villain practically commands, reaching between them to palm at his hard on.

“I dunno, you’ve barely got any skin left that isn’t charred.” Hawks says simply. Not mockingly, just observing. He doesn’t want to unintentionally dole out more damage.

“Fuck if I care. Put your teeth wherever you want.” His hand climbs its way into Hawks’ thick blonde hair, fingers wrapping around the bushy locks. He gathers a few curls at the nape of Hawks’ neck and pulls gently, causing Hawks to moan at the unexpected contact.

“Keep making pretty little noises like that and you’ll make me cum before you even get my cock in you.” Dabi gives another experimental tug and Hawks’ knees nearly buckle he’s swooning hard for this idiot. He takes a deep breath and decides to regain control of the situation, pushing Dabi’s hands out of his hair and dropping to his knees before the emo flame wielder. He reaches out and undoes the button to Dabi’s loose pants before pulling the zipper down as far as it can go.

To be honest, Hawks is having a ton of intrusive thoughts about Dabi’s dick – does his dick have a patchwork of charred flesh with staples holding it together? Does he have it pierced? Is he well endowed? Each of the possibilities is intriguing in its own way, and Hawks is eager to unwrap Dabi like a present on his fucking birthday.

Dabi doesn’t resist as Hawks slips the baggy pants down his slim hips and onto the ground. His legs are long, toned and crisscrossed with staples. The skin is mottled with purple, but less so than his torso. His thighs are surprisingly muscular and thick. Goddamn he’s beautiful. Beneath those baggy pants, he’s wearing a pair of charcoal boxers that leave little to the imagination. Hawks’ eyes widen as his greatest hopes are confirmed – Dabi is fuckin’ packing.

The villain’s dick is outlined beneath the underwear – a hard line leaning left. There’s a small damp spot on the front of the boxers where Dabi’s dick has leaked precum during all of their foreplay. The visual is incredibly hot.

“Why’d ya stop?” Dabi asks in a husky voice, hands on his hips as he stares down at Hawks’ whipped expression. “Intimidated?”

Hawks quirks his mouth up in a small smile. “You wish.”

Dabi barks out a laugh in response, moving his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers and tugging them down in a swift motion. His cock springs to attention, coming up to kiss his abs as it stands fully erect and flush with arousal.

Hawks was wrong – his cock isn’t burned, charred or pierced. But he was right about it being fucking massive. Dabi’s cock is beautiful – long with some weight to it, the tip flushed with excitement. Hawks has had a few steamy rendezvous over the years with other men, but never has he seen a dick this pretty. He practically salivates as he takes it in.

“Like what you see?” Dabi says, stretching his arms up and behind his head as his cock twitches excitedly against his slim but toned stomach.

“Absolutely.” Hawks says, licking his lips slowly as he reaches up to smooth the palm of his hands down Dabis’ perfect hip bones. “How do you hide all of this in those ridiculous leather pants of yours?”

This makes Dabi snort. This may be the first time Hawks has heard has hear d a genuine laugh from the man, and he likes the sound of it. The way he snorts into his laughter is geeky and distinctly uncool. It humanizes him, in a way. Hawks’ smile is so big his cheeks start to get sore. He quickly resets his mouth into a cool, thin line. Careful now. He thinks to himself as he slides his hands down to grasp at Dabi’s firm ass appreciatively. Can’t catch feelings for a villain that you’ll eventually betray.

Hawks is no angel – the Hero Commission has certainly seen to that. But crashing out over Dabi – Dabi the damn top member of the League of Villains – that would be so incredibly morally wrong that Hawks can’t believe his horny brain even bubbled up the idea in the first place. Ok. Refocus. Sex now, guilt and morality check later.

He lets his hands explore the expanse of Dabi’s cheeks. Jeez, he loves Dabi’s ass. It’s firm with a tiny bit of bounce to it. He looks up appreciatively at the rest of Dabi’s body. He’s a bit taken aback and just how skinny the villain is. He knows that up until The League joined up with the Paranormal Liberation Front, Dabi, Shigaraki and the others didn’t have a reliable source for meals. From the intel Hawks had gathered at the PLF HQ, the League members often went hungry, not knowing where their next meals would come from.

Dabi’s physique tells a story of malnourishment. He’s far too slim for his height. His muscles are lean in a wiry sort of way. Even though he’s muscular and has these to-die-for thighs, it’s clear that he’s not in a healthy place. He’s not being cared for. And Hawks knows all about being malnourished and neglected – before the Commission got a hold of him, he recalls being shaky and hungry with weak muscles from malnourishment.

So as Hawks appreciates Dabi’s beautiful body, he can’t help the way that his heart aches for the villain. A tiny voice in his head says, “I could take care of you. I could take you to my favorite restaurants and show you what it’s like to have a full belly and a warm bed. I could feed you and kiss you and fuck you until you fall asleep all safe and happy and emo and we could live happily ever after like some goddamn gay version of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves in The Lake House – kissing into the credit scenes.

Hawks blinks in surprise as the affectionate thoughts scroll through his head. All that just from cumming in Dabi’s mouth and then seeing him naked in a neon green roller rink bathroom!? Fuck. Has he been down bad for this emo motherfucker all along!?

Um. Okay wow that was a weirdly visceral pipedream thought. Hawks tries to lock in and clear his mind. There will be plenty of processing later when he’s taking a fresh shower and can be blessedly alone with his thoughts. For now – he has a blowjob to attend to.

He runs his hands slowly down Dabi’s thighs, memorizing the feel of Dabi’s warm skin beneath his fingertips. He looks up at the emo villain with bright golden eyes, and Dabi hits him back with a smoky gaze that could level buildings (probably has, to be honest. Dabi does have a police documented history of arson). His nose piercings glint in the artificial lighting as he turns his head ever so slightly so he can better look at Hawks. The hero runs his fingers lightly up the sensitive skin of Dabi’s inner thighs and the villain bites his lip and inhales sharply. His cock twitches. He’s so fucking horny.

Finally, Hawks puts him out of his misery and slides a hand up to grip Dabi’s cock and oh shit does it feel good in his palm. He runs his hand up and down the shaft, taking care to vary the pressure of his grip as he gets towards the tip. He swipes his thumb across Dabi’s sensitive head, smearing his precum around under his fingers so he can use it as lube. Dabi lets out a slight gasp at the motion, his arms falling to his sides as he continues to watch Hawks work at his thick cock.

Hawks looks down, staring hungrily at the hot member in his hand as he strokes slowly, carefully up and down. He decides to take it nice and slow – they both need this. A break. Softness. He jerks Dabi’s cock slowly, full of care. Almost as if to quietly say this is how it can be with me – sex can be slow. It can be gentle. Hawks wonders if Dabi has ever been handled with care in bed.

“What are you doing?” Dabi groans, looking down at him with a frown. “You’re literally the slowest bitch on the face of the Earth. Just get me off already.”

Hawks pauses and looks back up at the villain with narrowed eyes. “It’s all about the build up. Shut up and enjoy it.”

“I’d enjoy it more if I was cumming all over your face right now, jeez.” Dabi says defensively, but he crosses his arms and shuts the fuck up all the same. He’s looking down at Hawks almost curiously (as curiously as one can look while they’re brooding into a handjob). Hawks grins a little as he starts to jerk Dabi off again, this time going a tiny bit faster until he feels Dabi’s dick respond with an appreciative twitch.

He then leans forward and plants a row of wet kisses up Dabi’s inner thigh as he continues to glide his hand up and down Dabi’s perfect cock. He realizes that he could use a tiny bit more lubrication. He gathers saliva in his mouth and looks up at Dabi to maintain eye contact as he drools like an absolute whore onto the villain’s ready cock.

Dabi blinks in surprise at the explicit visual, and then stares hungrily at Hawks to see what he’ll do next. The winged hero uses his hand to glide his saliva across Dabi’s excited cock and increases his pace a bit – the villain closes his eyes at the contact, clearly seeing stars behind his eyelids as he lets out a tiny breath of pleasure. Good. That’s what Hawks wants.

He leans his mouth forward and starts to suck at Dabi’s balls, sucking one into his mouth as he continues along with the hand job. At this, Dabi lets out a full on groan from the back of his throat. Okay, so he’s a sensitive little bitch. Hawks can work with that.

He sucks for a few more moments on Dabi’s package, letting his jaw go slack so he can pull his mouth away to do more dirty work. He ghosts hot breath along the underside of Dabi’s cock before tonguing at his flushed tip. Dabi seems to think that Hawks is speeding things up like he asked, and he hums appreciatively when he feels Hawks’ wet mouth hover just above his cockhead.

But no – Hawks is just teasing. He goes back down to worshiping Dabi’s thighs with his mouth, lavishing them in kisses as he slows his stroke game on Dabi’s dick. Dabi lets out a growl of frustration, just wanting Hawks to get it quick and dirty and done with.

“Patience.” Hawks says as he finds a particularly sensitive spot on Dabi’s thigh and tongues at it, appreciating the way Dabi’s knees give a twitch at the motion. “Patience.” He places a kiss on the spot. “Is.” Another kiss. “A Virtue.” He swirls his tongue back up towards Dabi’s package.

“Oh fuck you.” Dabi hisses between clenched teeth, arms still crossed against his chest and eyes shut tight. He drops his head back to rest against the smooth neon green wall.

“You could be fucking me right now. If you carried a damn emergency condom.” Hawks teases, using his free hand to caress Dabi’s sensitive balls. They quiver at the delicate attention the hero serves up. Dabi is blessedly speechless for once. Hawks glances up to see that he’s really relishing this, despite his complaints. His eyes are still cramped shut but his eyebrows are knitting against each other and he’s biting his lip hard. He’s doing everything possible to not let Hawks see him enjoying himself.

Hawks slows down his pace even more. He can tell that he’s frustrating Dabi endlessly, and he loves it. Dabi’s mouth has settled into a scowl, but his chest rises and falls in a quick rhythm that hinting to Hawks that he’s getting flustered.

“Hey Dabi.” Hawks says, casual. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself. We can go back to being whatever kind of fucked up enemies when we’re back on the clock. We can pretend this never happened.” He lolls his tongue around the head of Dabi’s cock, eliciting a shiver from the villain, before continuing to kiss up his hipbone. “Let yourself fucking relax a little.”

Dabi cracks open an eye to glare at Hawks, but he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly before dropping his arms to his sides.

“Alright, birdie. Make me enjoy it.” He says, half daring, half resigned. Hawks grins into the skin of his slim belly before planting a kiss beside his navel.

“Just remember – you asked for this.” Hawks says cheekily, kissing down the light “V” shape of the svelte muscles at Dabi’s trim waist.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get on with - ” Dabi’s words get stuck in his throat as, in a sudden burst of movement, Hawks wrenches one of Dabi’s long legs off the ground and throws it over his shoulder. He flings an arm between Dabi’s legs to brace against the wall, allowing himself to bare most of the villain’s weight. In the same motion, he takes Dabi’s cock in his mouth and starts sucking like his life depends on it (And maybe it does to be honest).

Dabi was clearly not expecting this, because he lets out a moan of surprise that quickly turns into undiluted pleasure at the change in position. His dick fits so snuggly in Hawks’ hot mouth, and the thrill of being handled so harshly yet carefully is turning him on in a way that neither of them could have anticipated. He’s rock hard and ready to cum any moment.

Hawks hollows out his cheeks and bobs his head in a steady rhythm, enjoying the light salty taste of Dabi’s unblemished skin. He periodically swirls his tongue around the head of the villain’s cock, eliciting broken mumbles of praise from the hot villain.

“Y-yeah. Oh shit. Just like that.” Dabi stammers mindlessly, his fingers dropping from his chest to thread their way through Hawks’ thick hair. He pulls gently at the hero’s blonde locks, eliciting a hum of appreciation from Hawks. Mmm that’s hot. The hum sends tiny shockwaves of vibration through Dabi’s cock and he feels his legs start to shake with pleasure. Hawks feels it too. He knows the villain is getting close, and he’s excited to push him over the edge.

Dabi’s eyes flutter open so he can get a visual on the situation. He takes in the way his pale leg is thrown haphazardly over Hawks’ strong, tanned shoulder. Then there’s the way that Hawks is absolutely ravaging him – deep throating his cock in a way that’s both slutty and caring. Hawks is so tuned into Dabi’s pleasure; he’s contorted himself into an uncomfortable position. He’s simultaneously supporting most of Dabi’s weight while sucking him dry. It’s the first time Dabi’s had sex where a partner has focused entirely on his desire. He’s so fucking turned on that he’s shaking.

Hawks slides his mouth off of Dabi’s dick with a pop. He takes a few ragged breaths and then says in a hoarse tone. “I know you’re close. I want to make you cum. I want you to enjoy yourself. Fucking take it from me Dabi.” He takes Dabi’s cock back in his mouth and wrenches his leg upwards, further over the hard muscles of his Pro Hero shoulder.

Dabi’s head hits the neon green bathroom wall with a light “thud.” He’s speechless, blissed out, heaven struck. Hawks seems to know exactly what to say and do to turn him on. He’s always been one for dirty talk – but he’s never truly been on the receiving end of said talking. The way Hawks looks at him and sucks him off and speaks to him so damn directly…well it’s all far too much and he’s certain sex has now officially been ruined forever for him - its likely that only Hawks is capable of fucking him this good.

Hawks sucks rhythmically at Dabi’s dick and does all sorts of fancy things with his tongue that shoot zigzags of pleasure into the villain’s belly. It only takes about 45 seconds of this for him to absolutely shatter. He doesn’t even see the orgasm coming – all of a sudden without warning it hits him like a train. It’s hard, fast and breathtaking. His entire body is a livewire of shaking energy as he feels himself cum, hot waves of sticky fluid splattering the back of the hero’s throat in rapid succession.

Dabi cries out – a mix of surprise and pleasure. The noise that’s ripped from the back of his throat sounds suspiciously like Hawks’ name, but the villain would never own up to that fact. (Besides, what’s said during sex doesn’t really mean anything, right? Right.) If Hawks weren’t holding him up, his knees would be buckling right now because holy fucking shit he feels so deliriously good as Hawks draws the orgasm out of him and swallows cleanly.

And for his part, Hawks is in heaven down beneath the villain, sucking the remnants of Dabi’s high through chapped lips. He absolutely loves giving during sex. Something about the way he can make someone fall apart with only his touch, his mouth, his cock…he supposes it’s a trauma response, wanting to pleasure people for attention and potentially because he wants to feel a bit of control. In his lifetime, he’s had so little control. It’s nice to have a moment of being truly in charge.

But honestly…he sees Dabi as a mirror to himself; someone who’s been neglected and unloved. And for a moment it feels good to give Dabi the things he himself wants. So when Dabi throws his head back and moans out his name in a choked voice, the hero feels incredibly accomplished and – selfishly – fulfilled knowing he’s done his job well.

When Dabi’s cock is spent and limp between Hawks’ lips, he gently slides his mouth off. A thin thread of spit and cum connects his lips to Dabi’s pretty cock as he backs away. It’s sloppy and gross and he can feel Dabi drinking in the hot visual from above. He carefully removes Dabi’s lengthy leg from where it hangs over his shoulder, lowering it back to the ground. He tries to ignore the way that Dabi’s entire body is still quaking.

He decides he can get away with one more kindness before Dabi comes back into his body. He reaches for Dabi’s charcoal boxers where they lay abandoned on the floor, and he holds them out to the villain, helping him pull one shaky leg into the underwear at a time. Dabi doesn’t put up a fight, awkwardly allowing Hawks to help him get back into the comfortable fabric. When the boxers are finally back in place with their elastic waistband low on Dabi’s defined hips, the villain slides down the wall so he can sit on the smooth linoleum floor across from Hawks. He closes his eyes as he leans his head back against the wall and takes a few deep, slow breaths.

Finally, he says two shaky words: “Holy. Shit.”

Hawks laughs genuinely because honestly, he’s thinking the same thing.

“Is sex for you usually that good?” Hawks questions, his tone completely serious as he cocks his head to the side.

Dabi leans his head back on the wall and stares up at the florescent lights. “Never.” He shifts his gaze to take in Hawks’ expression. “You?”

“Nope. I actually don’t usually cum that easily.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Huh.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, neither sure of what to say next.

“I guess…we should get going.” Dabi says, not quite certain of himself. He reaches for his discarded clothes and gets to his feet so he can put them back on. Hawks watches, sad to see that beautiful body be swallowed up by loose black fabric.

“Yeah.” Hawks looks around for his own clothes, and then remembers that all he has available to put on are his tiny see through tank top and the bright ruby roller skates. He groans miserably, walking with resignation towards the teensy top that lays in a sad little heap under the sink. He makes a small noise of dismay – the sink pipe has been dripping water onto the already atrocious shirt. Dabi looks up at the sound.

“Oh. Hold on.” He says quickly. He ducks his head down so the hero can’t see his expression. Hawks notes that he looks almost embarrassed.

Dabi strides away from him on long legs and disappears into one of the bathrooms stalls, kicking out a familiar looking designer duffle bag.

“…is that?” Hawks sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

“Yeah I stole your fucking clothes, big deal.” Dabi shrugs, kicking the extremely high-end duffle across the linoleum floor towards Hawks. “I wanted to see you squirm for a bit when you realized you had to stay in that slutty little outfit.”

“Ugh. Why are you literally the worst. This day has been just awful.” Hawks grabs for the bag, pulling it towards him across the gross linoleum floor.

“I hope it wasn’t all awful.” Dabi says, almost jokingly. He strolls over to the sink so he can adjust his turtleneck collar in the mirror.

Hawks ignores the comment. “I can say with confidence that I will never be wearing roller skates again after today.”

“I dunno. After blowing you on wheels…maybe I have a weird shitty kink for skates now. You’d need to put them on again so I can be sure.” Dabi says, watching Hawks riffle through his bag behind him through the mirror. He runs long fingers through his jet-black locks, refocusing his eyes on himself as he tries to flatten his sex hair.

“Cumming makes you chatty, does it?” Hawks bites back, grinning despite himself. He’s thrilled to see all of his clothes and equipment in the bag where he left them. He makes a mental note to sweep the bag for tracking equipment later before he arrives back home.  He does an initial check – patting his hands along the bottom of the bag and around the zippers.

“Don’t think this changes anything between us.” Dabi says suddenly, almost harshly, as he turns the sink faucet and begins to splash cold water on his pale, aristocratic cheeks.

“How do you mean?” Hawks turns to look at him over his shoulder.

“I know how you hero types work. You probably think now that we’ve fucked we’re in love and you can change me and bring me over to the side of the light.” Dabi chuckles and crosses his arms across his chest. “That is definitely not happening.”

“You are so damn full of yourself.” Hawks snorts, turning back to the bag so he can pull out his precious designer sweatpants. He unfolds the soft, decadent material carefully and rises to his feet so he can pull them on. He discards the slutty photo shoot shorts, tossing them over Dabi’s shoulder and into the garbage can by the sink. He stands naked for a moment, grinning when he sees Dabi’s eyes dance across his body from their reflection in the mirror. He sticks a foot into the pant leg and starts to pull them on. “You’re well beyond saving.”

Dabi grins appreciatively at him through the mirror. “Don’t I know it.”

“And I promise not to fall in love with your sorry ass.” Hawks pulls on his soft expensive t-shirt. He doesn’t miss the way that Dabi’s eyes drink in one last glance at his abs and chest as he pulls the fabric down over his stomach. “But maybe…”

“Hm?”

Hawks feels his cheeks burn red with heat as he adjusts his shirt to fit more comfortably around his wings.

“Maybe we can call a temporary truce whenever we want to…hook up.” He coughs out the last words.

“Bold of you to assume I’d sleep with you again.” Dabi sneers, but his mouth is tilted up in the tiniest of grins.

“I’m sorry…” Hawks says boldly as he fishes his specialty headphones out of the duffle and hangs them around his neck. “…Did I not just give you the best head of your life? I assumed you’d want a follow up. Or better yet…” Hawks grabs his socks and sneakers and starts pulling them on as he avoids Dabi’s gaze. “I bet you’d jump at the chance to feel my cock inside you.”

“And just what makes you think I’d let you top me?” Dabi spits out, sounding insulted.

Hawks shrugs indifferently. “I’ll bottom. I don’t particularly care when it comes to things like that. Either way, I’m a great lay. Ha! That rhymed.” Hawks says, finally fully clothed. Admittedly, the orgasm was a good full system reset. He feels loose and relaxed for the first time all day. He rolls out his shoulders and stretches, letting his shirt creep up his toned stomach to give Dabi once last thing to look at.

“I bet we’d have really good bed chem.” Hawks says with a cheeky wink, catching Dabi’s bright aqua eyes.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dabi narrows his eyes in a glare, thinking Hawks is making fun of him somehow.

“Its, uh, a song by Sabrina Carpenter.” Hawks rattles off. He didn’t realize that Dabi was so out of touch with pop culture, but given that the villain has been on the run for the better part of the last few years it kind of makes sense that he wouldn’t be up to date on the latest in pop music. “It means we’d have good chemistry in bed.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Jesus Christ you’re annoying.” Dabi rolls his eyes and grabs a paper towel to wipe off his damp face and arms.

“Listen, ya big baby. What I’m saying is that I’d be up for sleeping together again. Don’t think too much into it.” Hawks rolls his eyes and pulls his hoodie out of his bag before zipping the duffle closed.

“Huh. Alright. Maybe.” Dabi says noncommittally. “I’ll be at PLF HQ next week. If I see you there…well we can figure it out then.”  Without even a backward glance at the now fully clothed Hawks, he turns to unlock the door and leave.

“Dabi – hold on.” Hawks grabs him by the wrist and yanks him backwards and away from the door.

“What.” Dabi looks pissed for some reason, but he turns around just in time for Hawks to plant a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on his lips. It’s quick and kind of gross, but it’s also warm.

“That’s it. See you on the flip side, villain.” Hawks turns on his heel and goes to gather up his bag and the ridiculous ruby red roller skates. Dabi can’t help but stare at the hero’s plump ass as he bends over to collect the skates. He quickly gets ahold of himself and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He slowly opens the bathroom door and disappears into the crowded roller rink set.

Hawks takes a minute to gather his things and ­finally splash some cold water on his face. His body is buzzing and electric, but in a nice way this time. He’s wearing shoes without wheels. He’s got his plush, comfy clothes on. His headphones are in place should he need them. …And then there’s the fact that he just had the hottest sex of his life with a fucking villain in a neon green roller rink rest room.

After a few minutes of preening at his hair and outfit, he emerges from the bathroom and out into the chaos of the post-photo shoot set. Less time has passed than he realized – the crew is still cleaning up, many of them taking a snack break at the craft services table.

The art director’s assistant waves to him as he exits the small bathroom.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! The costuming department doesn’t have your stuff so we’re going to lend – oh! You found your clothes.” She looks relieved. The PA Hawks had sent off earlier in search of his duffle is nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, I guess I just misplaced it in the bathroom while getting ready! Silly me!” Hawks plays off, turning up his beloved hero charm. “But I wasn’t sure where to put these.” He holds up the pair of shiny red skates with one hand. “Can you get them back to wardrobe for me?”

“Oh! The art director said you can keep them – they’re a gift.” The assistant says, smiling warmly.

“Oh, thanks.” Hawks glances down at the skates unhappily.

“We’re done for the day – you’re good to leave! But we’d love for you to stay for the crew after party.” The woman looks up at him through her lashes, blushing as she implores him to stay.

“Aw, thanks I’d really love to – but I’ve got an early morning patrol.” Hawks says apologetically, covering his mouth a bit with his hand as he lies through his teeth. “Thanks for everything, though. Really. Excited to see the final photos!” And with that he turns on his heel and boogies his way out of the roller rink. He waves gratefully to the models and crewmembers as he speed walks towards the exit. As he goes, he unzips his bag and tosses the offensive skates inside.

The minute his feet hit the pavement outside, he propels himself high into the air. His wings unfurl and relief flows through him as he takes in the feeling of being free in the wide, endless sky. He breathes in deeply, reveling in the expansive silence. He wings his way towards home, his mind lingering on thoughts of Dabi – his hands, his body, and his mouth.

He ditches his designer bag in a trashcan a few blocks away from his apartment (yes, Dabi did in fact have it bugged with a tiny tracker). He enters his loft apartment carrying nothing but his keys the bright red skates. He discards both in the entryway, tucking in his wings and shedding his clothes as he makes a beeline for his luxurious shower.

Minutes later he’s finally, blissfully, standing beneath a hot stream of water. He closes his eyes and sighs gratefully as he lathers his wings up with expensive oil, and his thoughts wander back to Dabi.

Where is Dabi sleeping tonight? Is it warm enough? Is he taking a nice, long shower after the days events? Has he been fed? Does he have a soft bed and change of clothes waiting for him at the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters?

These thoughts linger with him as he towels off, chomps away at a TV dinner, and eventually tucks himself into bed. He sprawls out across the king sized mattress, his wings splayed out comfortably behind him as he stares up at the ceiling. For the first time he notices how empty the bed feels with just him in it. Alone with his thoughts, he dares to let his mind wander. He wonders if Dabi would like sharing a bed? Would he find it comfortable to be folded up into the warm plush blankets, maybe with one of Hawks’ wings draped over him like a quilt? Would he pretend to hate the closeness, but allow himself to be cuddled anyway? Would he let Hawks kiss him slow and deep until they fell asleep?

He shuts off his light and stares up into the darkness, wondering. Maybe even wishing a little.

“I bet we’d have good bed chem.” He mutters to himself, a small smile pulling at his lips as his brain supplies Dabi’s likely response – an eye roll accompanied with a gravely “You’re an idiot.”

Yeah, he really is, isn’t he?

Hawks folds away his dreaming, aching heart and wills himself to go to sleep. There’s work to be done with the Commission. Plans to be carried out. In a world on the brink of quirk-fueled civil war, there’s no room for romance with a villain. And so, there’s no room for Dabi.

His eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. He falls into a deep, comfortable sleep. But his dreams are permeated with flashes of a patchwork face, bright aqua eyes, a brilliant toothy smile, and an arrogant laugh.

You can’t help the things your heart longs for.

End.

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

OMG!!! Let me know what you think! I've been wanting to write a full DabiHawks fic forever! I hope you all enjoyed!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

P.S. Want to read more of my smutty fluffy fics!? Here's the link to 🔥My Masterlist.🔥

Stay safe out there, y'all!

[glitterymarshmellowfem]

For this photoshoot, the model was wearing an all leather outfit and black panties the company wanted to advertise with a smoker. After some shots with the full outfit, the photographer said: "Tasha, the shoot's instructions say to take off the top so I can feature just the tight pants in some shots.....Your ass, is perfect for those pants. Turn around and let me get shots from the rear. Now some from the front. Last set of instructions say some shots on the bed there in just the panties."

"Jane, they really just want panty shots?"

"Yes Tasha. If you don't believe me take a look. If it makes you feel better, I'll take off my clothes to my panties. There satisfied?"

"No I believe you, but thank you. That does make me feel more comfortable. Okay shoot away."

"There, that's it for the distant shots. Now I'll take some close-ups. Mmmmm, nice pussy Tasha."

"Thanks Jane."

"Now pull them lower so women can see how they stretch. Lower. Yes, now play with yourself, so women can see them in action. Here, let me help you."

"But Jane you aren't taking any shots."

"Tasha, it's called posing the subject properly, so I need to lay my camera aside to get just the right pose."

"Oh god Jane, that feels soooo good, don't stop eating me. Yes, keep going. Okay play with my clit..... I'm going to climax! Oh fuck yeah. ....Okay bitch, my turn to do you. Get your little ass on this bed. Mmmmm, fresh pussy. My turn to pose the subject."

@flashbacksintime

[theamazingannie]

The world is so unkind to goth people. Trying to buy a new sweatshirt for my university and there’s not so much as a dark gray

[viina-art]

I've come to the conclusion I'll never draw an Alistair or Sten I like, so just have these three divas for now <3

+ curly Morrigan (bc I thought it'd be cute) + buzzcut Morrigan (bc of this tweet)

[uramitashi]

kind of a new personal quest i want to try for myself is to stop highlitghting/noticing another woman's beauty for the next week (and my own!)

so because i am very much against our actual conception of female beauty because of the tremendous focus we put on the least important part of a person (their body) i want to actively start training myself to stop caring. Like seeing a beautiful, stunning, aesthetically perfect woman and simply not focusing on her appearance, doesn't matter how hard.

Also stop noticing if a random girl has nice lips, or good hair, or a nice outfit, or if she's hot. If i find myself thinking about it, redirecting my thought on something else. Becoming totally neutral to a woman's outer appearance.

This is also valid for me: for a week i will start caring about my body only from a neutral kind of way (do not shave even if i feel pressured to, dont put makeup even if i fell pressures to, dont care about my body type, dont use any particular jewelry etc.; only care about physical self for hygienic and practical purposes). For a week, i want to try to become a person who doesn't care if "her skin is the softest" "her outfit is beautiful" and all that. I want to be neutral. I want to notice new things.

I do think that even beauty critical women still notice other women's beauty, and the fact they passively give importance to another woman' aesthetic conquest does influence their relationship with their own self. I'm one of those women. Therefore it is only right i shut up the aesthetic gaze inside of me

Will update from time to time!!

[iwoulddieforienzo]

They’re fucking with us

[sendmyresignation]

something I've been thinking about lately. i do think it's incredibly telling that almost 80 percent of the conversations around 'gatekeeping' and 'posers' and shit end up just becoming vitriolic hatred of 'alt girls' like i hate shit spotify playlists and dollskill fake leather edge and tiktok recommendations as much as the next person but this is a very big attitude coming from a website full of people who spent their formative middle school years shopping at hot topic for multi-colored skinny jeans while listening to like. falling in reverse or 21p unironically (this is a self-own btw). first of all teenagers having shit taste isn't killing punk music. but also why is the object of your hatred always boil down to a woman faking it? as if it isn't the single oldest stereotype in heavy music? like am i insane for thinking this is an issue

[sadaveniren]

Why do you think the fandom treats Gemma and the Tomlinson sisters so differently?

Because Gemma is doing what they want and the Tomlinson sisters aren’t and despite being progressive and saying we support people for doing what they want we as a society and a fandom over all still operate under the rule of “my way or the Highway”

[alisface]

Fsm for fun and christmas gayming

Soooooo a friend recently gave me some space marine sheets. I dont play sm so I cannot fathom why they did this. But I've had a pretty fun time painting them and basing them of of me and my friends!

So the one I made first was just as a test for the colour scheme but she is now the leader, I never do glowy weapons but i was surprised how good it came out

Next i added me! To get the hair right I walked up to the guy who owns the lgs, grabbed a fistful of my hair and asked him to colour match it. And he did a great job! I also put a nifty trans decal on her front because I like living like that and putting it into my hobbies. She was also a kitbash, the other three leader looking ones were ment to have cool extras.

Next was someone very close to me with blue hair pronouns (she/they) and a GUN in real life. So it was a very easy conversion and they get two guns

Finally the other person very close to me gets two swords. I think it looks pretty good!

I've also recently finished a fifth one and will use it here to show the process:

So here are the primary and ancillary colours I used

This green takes three coats because it comes out fairly wispy

Next is a dark green for the under armor peices. I find It works better than just black so the actual black parts can seem like a different more flexible texture

Next is black in all the joints and and the main trim

And finally for the main colours I used a gold leaf paint. This paint sucks and I hate it. It's very watery and takes alot of shaking to get it useable. It's the other white fr

So onto the other colours. Some are only used on single peices. This one is just on the gun casing

There are alot of metal bits all over, you cant see it to well but theres some on the helmet pipes.

Next is the bronze, with this the backpack is done

Then theres the browns for all the pouches and the seal. For the deal I also usual do a thin white on top to give it a more papery look.

This red is used exactly once and it's on the wax seal

I use a much lighter red on the chain sword and the base level of the sholder fire

Next is an orange and a yellow applied with very messy strokes to give it that 'flame' effect. Theres also the yellow on the eyes.

Then after some touch ups and re lining some areas (yall dont have to do this but I'm messy) shes ready to join her sisters

There also things like oil or highlighting I could do but I'm going to hold of on that for all models until I've figured out where I'm gonna set them

[mod-doodles]

Makes me sick that rather than sympathize with Francesca. Those foolish and insecure black women really act like we should only uplift darkskin model types or eurocentric light skins/biracial looking black women. To them the only way for black woman to exist in media—because god forbid black women do anything as individuals, no it’s always up to us to represent the entire race—is if we’re extraordinary beauties without reproach. And it’s crazy making because these same people will advocate for the representation for dark skin unambiguous black women on screen and in media but then throw fits when she isn’t ryan destiny or some extraordinarily beautiful model. As if they themselves aren’t regular looking black women! like what happened to representation? Plus they act like being on their ‘best behaviour’ and shitting on themselves and the community is going to get them somewhere with these racists when the reality is that the racists have zero points and are demons from hell who hate everything to do with blackness and want us to feel shame and hatred for our very existence. Being a massive coon isn’t going to get them to like you because in the grand scheme of things they might kill you last but they’ll still kill you is the point. It’s so disgusting because seemingly socially aware black women are part of the ones cooning out and projecting their insecurities on a girl who looks like 90% of black women around the world. They’re pathetic and I can’t believe we went from that whole black girl magic era to this. Normal black girls being bullied worldwide for daring to exist. This whole thing and the fact that it’s gone on so long has really hurt me and I can’t even imagine what the actress is going through. Especially since a good chunk of the racists will never see the show but just want to comment on her looks. Kudos on her for not quitting (side eying her costar because it’s one thing not to say something but another to leave up thousands of racially motivated hate comments against ur costar on your account but it’s not like he defended his own mixed gf so he’s trash anyway) but it’s still so rough. Getting it from all sides especially the ones who look like you is so demoralizing and I know a lot of black women in the industry are standing up for her but still. I would be beside myself.

I believe this is a failing on the natural hair movement because featurism and texturism reigned supreme. Women are talking about natural hair makes you look childish- what!?!

[cherrysnax]

need to preface this by saying I looooove Felicia sm but god it’s so frustrating that when she pops up she gets to keep her personality, her depth, her everything, even in like her very few appearances but MJ has to get EVERYTHING WIPED AWAY even in the comics??? but literally the only close to faithful adaptions of her are spectacular, some of the 90s show and PART of the raimi movies and it’s only slivers!!!! And usually if mjs around Gwen doesn’t exist so we never the catalyst to her and peters bond, their shared grief that Peter can’t understand at first <\3