#and yet i'm too paralyzed by my own emotions to even say anything. what's my problem

[transgenderfivepebbles]

clawing at the walls

[meocities]

Keen

mithrun/reader - 1,561 words, implied/referenced self-harm, hurt/comfort

note: hi anon, i love you, i am so so so sorry for taking four months to get this done. i was going to also do kabru but it was just taking so much time so i . did not write him. i hope this brings you comfort and thank u for requesting :)

It's not that you mean to stare. Your only defense of yourself is that you're not judging him, but even that is flimsy. It feels wrong to even think, as your eyes travel over the scrabbled scars on his forearms, but it almost feels like coming home.

Which is a thought that is definitely out of line — not to mention assumptive — but it doesn't matter how quickly you backtrack, because Mithrun has definitely noticed you looking now. His arm is still outstretched, hand holding the shirt he was wearing, because, right, you were supposed to fold it for him. You're already making a fool of yourself on the first night you see him to bed, the first night you perhaps might even spend in his presence. Mithrun's still largely uncaring, but he's made progress in expressing his preferences lately. Your reaction here, your stare — would this be something that drove him to avoid you in the future?

You’re stuck paralyzed. His expression doesn't change even as you fumble with the shirt and drop it on the bed between you. 

Yet, he's waiting. His eyes are watching your face, expression open in a way it usually isn't. He's making space for your own reaction, you realize, and the nerves bunch up in your stomach.

You broach the topic in the only way you can think of. “How did you�� get those?” You ask, and the knowledge that this is too blatant, too personal, makes your heart beat into a frenzy. Your skin feels cold and clammy — he's staring at you with his gray-dark eyes, flitting down only to pick up his shirt. Which, you take and start folding, and ignore how his hand finally drops back to his side. His very exposed side. The skin of his abdomen is where your eyes follow (because of the movement of his hand, because it dropped there, of course) and your breath catches in your throat at just how much there is to see, how his soft waist has scars there too. 

Mithrun stays silent for a moment. His eyes glance at your arms, down your torso to your legs. “How do you think?” He asks, sparing a look at his own forearms and their marks — as if, from the past, he had grabbed on, dug in, and dragged. 

You're quiet. It doesn't feel right to say.

Mithrun knows anyway. “After losing my title of dungeon lord,” he says, and you think, what? The confusion must not show on your face, because he continues. “I didn't want to recover. I didn't want anything. Any reminder of what I was sent me into a frenzy. I'm sure you can understand what I mean.”

Now you understand. You understand better than you want to admit. You weren't a stranger to emotions so big for your body — panic choking through your throat, anger burning a hole in your chest, grief so heavy you couldn't move off the floor. Frenzy or not, you had been there. You, too, had wanted that hurt.

“I'm sorry,” you say, and set his folded shirt on the nightstand. “That must have been hard for you.” You move a hand to his wrist, trailing down his skin until your hands are entwined. It's a gentle gesture, less of a grip and more feeling his flesh against yours. Mithrun doesn't move to grasp your hand more than a brief twitch of his fingers, but even this is more than enough for you. 

It's as if the contact has unlocked his thoughts. “The demon was all I could think about.” Mithrun's face has an uncertain expression etched onto it, and you know he's trying to make sense of his emotions. “Before I wanted to kill it, I couldn't stand the mention of it. I only realized recently that I wanted it to finish the job.” He doesn't react to his words at all, not with his posture nor his hands, but you can tell from the distance in his eye — half-lidded, unfocused — that he's reminiscing. An x-shaped scar on his throat trembles as he speaks, his voice soft and raspy. You wonder how much he had to force those words out into the open.

The scar bobs as Mithrun swallows. You wish you could reach out and soothe the motion.

There's a moment of quiet before Mithrun lets go of your fingers, pulling his hand to rest at his abdomen. Rejection pangs through your chest and you try not to let it show on your face, schooling your expression into careful neutrality. Yet, Mithrun's not done moving, because he shuffles down under the plush gray covers of his bed, turning his head to you. He doesn't say anything nor nod his head in any way, but you can recognize what an invitation looks like from him. 

Your lounge pants are the first thing to go, namely because you can slip them under the covers faster than Mithrun can get a good look at your skin. Next is the shirt, and you turn away from him as soon as it's off. You fold these delicately, then place them on top of Mithrun's clothes on the nightstand. A few seconds after this is all it takes for you to turn the lamp off and shimmy underneath the covers, burying yourself up to your shoulders. Moonlight fills the room in the lamp's absence. Your expression is carefully calm, and your quick breathing can be explained by the way you're both undressed next to each other. Your right shoulder is pressed against his left — Mithrun's warm, so warm, and you want to curl into his body and stay there forever.

Yet you’re still — too still — and Mithrun draws a breath. You were too fast with getting undressed and not letting him see. “You asked because you're the same as me,” he realizes, and you know it's not a question. 

“Yeah,” you say, and you wonder if he can feel how you've tensed where your bodies are touching. “Didn't you know?”

Mithrun looks, looks down — you feel as if you've been drenched in ice. “Wounds are versatile,” he says. “I don't read into others’ bodies.” It's hard to believe him — you know what you look like, after all, but you suppose that many others wouldn't take Mithrun's scars as self-inflicted if all they knew was that he was often in combat. Maybe you had been primed to recognize what these wounds had looked like. Maybe your eye for hurt was more keen than most.

“You're not like most people, then,” is what you come up with. Something deep inside your chest is throbbing, some ache that formed when the scars did and never quite went away. “They usually know just by looking at me.”

Mithrun’s silent. He's silent often, like when he's cooking noodles in preparation for opening his shop. But he's never silent while staring at your arms as if he's had a revelation, and this new quiet makes your abdomen flip with a decided nervousness. 

“I suppose you understood more than I realized,” Mithrun says, and you nod your head.

“I think so.” 

It's still horrifically still. There's too much tension in your throat to swallow down, and each breath aggravates that hurt in the chest even more. You move your left arm — the one not pressed to Mithrun's side — to press over your wild heart.

Mithrun must sense your restlessness. “Relax. It doesn't change anything.”

Right. It made no sense for it to change anything, not with Mithrun's own scars. You nod. You still can't look at him.

“Yeah,” you say. “There’s no reason for me to be nervous.”

You hear Mithrun’s head shift towards you again, skin brushing against the pillowcase. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his expression turn contemplative. He's silent for another moment before he speaks, voice soft in a way you've never heard before.

“You're still attractive to me,” you hear him say, and this is what gets you to finally look up at him. His eye is focused on you, moonlight hitting his face through the window, and there's something so picturesque about how his wavy hair spills over the pillow, how his eye is twinged just slightly silver. Breath catches in your throat as you're entranced by his visage, and Mithrun turns closer, pressing his chest to your shoulder. His fingers come up to hold the side of your face, the curve of your jaw, and his voice is reverant when he confesses, “still beautiful.”

The ache beats once more in your chest, then falls away, dislodged. For now, it's been calmed, and goosebumps rise up on your skin. “Thank you,” you whisper, and even that tiny breath is shaky. “I think you're beautiful too.”

Mithrun hums some vague sound and you see the hint of a smile rise on his lips.

He still can't fall asleep without being coaxed, and your heart's beating far too quickly to rest. But for now, it seems that you're both content to lay next to each other, trading kisses, skin to scarred skin. He's gentle, sweet when he wants to be. You can't help but delight in how lucky you've been to keep him.

Mithrun is soft against you — so delightfully warm — and you discover that feeling his body against yours is more comforting than you ever believed it would be.

[nothinggold13]

I said in the tags of my recent screencaps of Nick and Daisy dancing, "do you ever think. that all daisy really needed was a friend?" and apparently those tags resonated with more people than I thought they would. Now I think they call for a little elaboration.

On their first meeting in the book, it is established that Nick neither attended Daisy's wedding nor met her baby (who is 3 years old). Daisy says herself, "We don't know each other very well, Nick. Even if we are cousins." And yet in this same scene Daisy says that his arrival has her "paralyzed with happiness" and refers to him as "an absolute rose." She speaks of him and to him as if they are dearly close despite her own admittance that they hardly know each other at all. (Of course, this is easily explained when Nick says, "[She looked] up into my face, promising that there was no one in the world she so much wanted to see. That was a way she had." Daisy has a way of drawing people in, and making them feel important. I'm sure people make different things of this, some positive and some negative, but I won't dwell on it.)

But, perhaps more telling than the way she talks to Nick, is the fact that the first thing Daisy does when she has a moment alone with him is to confide in him. She says, "We don't know each other very well," and then, moments later, begins a story asking, "Would you like to hear?" She says she's grown cynical. She says she felt abandoned. She says — famously — "That's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool."

And then she laughs it off.

Nick himself calls it insincere, "[...]as though the whole evening had been a trick of some sort to exact a contributory emotion from me."

But... I don't know. I've been a Daisy defender since high school, and that's never gone away; Nick's perspective may communicate a lot of truth that we wouldn't know otherwise, but he is not infallible. And, personally, when it comes to the depths of what's going on with Daisy, I think he's rather blind.

Daisy has a philandering husband who a) physically abuses his mistress and b) canonically bruised Daisy in a way she brushes off carelessly but confesses, again, within her first meeting with Nick, so I don't believe it's a big jump to say he's likely been physically abusive towards her, too. And with that in mind, I think it's strange to expect anything Daisy does to be perfectly and infallibly sincere, when, at her core, she is always in a fight for survival.

(It's the same reason I believe she stays with Tom at the end, and lets Gatsby take the blame. Tom is the only security she knows. Gatsby hangs in the balance. She can't run away with him, now.)

So, to get back to my point, I don't think Daisy was being dishonest in her confessions to Nick. I think she was being painfully honest— so painful, in fact, that she had to cover it up with that cynical mask she's gotten so good at wearing. Daisy is not a beautiful little fool; she only wishes she was.

And then Nick appears, and they're not close, but they could be, and she jumps to trust him: to tell him everything she's scared to say aloud: to have him listen. "Would you like to hear?" she asks. It's more than a question. It's a plea.

I think of Daisy knowing her driver's name, and thinking it important to use it. I think of Daisy knowing Jordan's name when they were younger, when Jordan was two years her junior and admired her desperately. I think of Daisy calling Nick "my dearest one" along with every other kind word she ever said to him. I think of Daisy reaching and reaching and reaching, clinging desperately to anyone who might hold on to her.

And they all let her down.

I guess those who see Daisy as disingenuous at her core wouldn't read it this way at all, but I do. I think Daisy loves desperately, trying to fill a hole that is never filled; I think she's looking for someone to save her, and nobody ever cares enough to listen.

Not Jordan. Not Nick. Not even Gatsby, despite his obsession.

And maybe none of them could have saved her, but they could have listened. They could have cared. They could have asked her about the letter that made her nearly call off her wedding to Tom, instead of dressing her up and pushing her to go through with it. They could've supported her, and not gone out to party with her cheating husband and his mistress. They could've stopped asking for too much and accepted the fact she couldn't give it. They could've done something.

Because all Daisy really needed was a friend. And she never truly had one.

[faunabel]

rant/vent/whatever. uh. abt my shitty family. i'm pissed the fuck off. sorry. not watered down to be more gentle. i am a furnace of rage. prbly don't read. TW for a lot of things.

i am so so so fucking tired of my family. my mother and sister are exactly the fucking same always pushing people and then pushing the blame onto them. you're too defensive you're immature you need to grow up i can't talk to you

you say they make you feel bad and they say it's not their fault. yes, the fuck it is. i'm so fucking sorry you lack even the most basic sense of awareness to understand that conversations are a two way street and you making people feel like shit is not a choice YOU get to make. YOUR ass does not get to decide that actually you did nothing wrong because everyone always always always is too sensitive even though you both are the most sensitive fuckers on the PLANET who bitch and whine when YOUR feelings get hurt but god forbid you hurt someone else and put in the effort to communicate properly. you can't just run your mouth and decide how you're communicating is valid and the other person is in the wrong no matter what.

i had to do everything on my own and be horribly traumatized throughout my entire childhood and teen years, and even beyond then, because i was severely neglected and abused and had no choice. but no, all i get is "get over it" and "i was hurt too" and all that other bullshit. but nooo i'm just lazy. i'm "childish." ahaha. fucking hilarious from people who are so lacking in any sense of emotional depth.

i am alone. i have always been alone. you continue to make me alone by pushing how YOU view the world onto me and deciding i'm immature if i rightfully. fucking. get. angry. when you continue! not to listen! and twist the story to fit how you see it!

yet i'm expected to function like everyone else? when my home isn't even a safe fucking place to live? i can't work a full time job because my health is so bad? yet nobody will help me? insulting me and making me feel like shit is their idea of help? calling names when i don't react the way they want is their idea of help? acting like they're so fucking tough and mature when they have the emotional depth of a goddamn peanut is "mature?"

"you will understand when you grow up"

no. i have grown up. i learned so much on my own because i fucking had to. nobody was there for me through any of it. i had no choice but to process years worth of trauma alone. no choice but to feel the most body wrenching emotions that left me paralyzed on the floor from their intensity. no choice but to continue dealing with remnants of severe trauma on a daily fucking basis all while being hounded by everyone else that i'm just not trying hard enough and whatever fucking insult comes next. but i still chose to have compassion and be as kind as i can and if expecting better treatment and any sense of empathy instead of controlling bullshit behavior is "immature" then i'm immature as fuck and you can kindly go piss in your shoes <3 you are perpetuating a cycle of abuse and it's pathetic. you can grow up.

god. i'm so fucking tired of all this invisible trauma nobody sees and assumes i just don't want to put in the effort. i'm so tired of constantly being made to feel like i can't have fucking emotions. or wants. or needs. or boundaries. or anything. because people will just continue to push that i shouldn't exist unless i submit and agree with them. why the fuck is everything always my fault. take accountability for once that you're not a perfect little princess. you're a bitch, in fact. sorry you demonize everyone with emotions just because you're an absolute asshole with no willingness to accommodate. but again... god forbid someone hurt YOUR feelings. god forbid. then it's eeeeveryone's problem.

if you continually dismiss someone's feelings and make them out to be crazy, they're allowed to get upset and lash out at you. go fuck yourself. and if you call them immature like you're so high and mighty, go fuck yourself with a goddamn sword. hard. in the ass. with NO LUBE. thanks.

i do not know what gentleness or warmth feels like. it's always been me alone against everyone else. i'm so tired of this shit. i want to sleep. i see little point in trying to actually be kind when everyone else is so fucking cruel. i'd rather just die and be done with it.

i still struggle to trust my own perception on anything. i always think maybe it's my fault. maybe i am too sensitive. maybe if i was calmer and better and more well behaved, people wouldn't hurt me. maybe i deserve to be hurt. maybe it's always my fault for being sensitive.

but then i also feel like fuck you. you're all just sorry as hell. i am so fucking tired of having to compartmentalize shit just to function around people who i absolutely despise. no wonder i have DID.

god it just makes me angry. i was alone my entire fucking life and your idea of "wanting better for me" is insulting me. GOD. fuck off. just admit you have a power complex and shut the hell up. you didn't help me when i was a child so why the fuck do you think i'd want your "help" now?

it's hilarious because i'd love to work a full time job and move the fuck away from anyone even remotely related to me. but i literally cannot. the last time i worked a job, i had to quit three weeks in because suppressed sexual trauma resurfaced and i absolutely lost my mind. but yes... definitely just lazy. definitely just immature. not at all terrified of history repeating itself and spending another 6 months as a terrified shell, with literally no support whatsoever. not to mention that i was living in a hotel room with both of my parents during this. sleeping on the bathroom floor. constantly being screamed at with no privacy or comfort. to the point of where i, who usually does not have full DID blackouts, would have blackouts where i woke up not knowing wtf was going on. nope. not horribly traumatized at all. just "lazy." it has been 3 years and i'm still not recovered but yeah. ok.

[maplecornia]

chapter 34

𝔞/𝔫: this chapter will be in 3rd person POV

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.45K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @pixiekooo | @cana

When was the moment he realized things were broken?

Driving down the dark streets, his hand clenches on the wheel of the car. Memories of past smiles, foreign whispers of love, someone's hand holding his while he couldn't feel more alone...

Maybe he always knew.

Maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself.

Pausing in front of a stop sign, he looks over as his phone buzzes, a message popping up on the screen. He doesn't bother looking at it, he knows it's not going to say what he wants it to say.

Watching the blinking lights at an empty street, he considers running it. There's nobody else around. No one would even notice. Even if he somehow did get in an accident would it matter? At this point is there anyone left who cares? Once the light changes green, the thoughts disappear as though they had never existed in the first place.

Jimin, you knew this would happen eventually.

You made this game.

"Yen, what's your secret?"

How is she able to smile so brightly? He sees the darkness in her eyes, he sees the way she disappears into herself, he sees the struggle inside her as she fights to be happy every day.

So why? How is she so strong?

Why can't I be that strong?

Jimin thought he would be able to forget everything. He thought it wouldn't matter. All he wanted was someone to be beside him. All he wanted was to not feel alone. He didn't think that having someone beside him, knowing that they didn't love him, knowing that they were using him for everything else but love...

He didn't think it would make him feel cold, almost isolated.

And yet, he still doesn't want to let go.

When his phone buzzes once more, he looks over at the passenger seat, not paying attention to the road. He doesn't notice as he comes across another intersection. He doesn't notice the crosswalk, nor the woman who is crossing. He’s too focused on the name that flashes on his screen. Debating in his strangled min whether or not to answer.

When he reaches her, just a few feet away, may it be fate or destiny he turns away from the phone just in time to see the woman. Adrenaline pumping violently through his body, his eyes widen as she turns, hearing the roar of the engine and the screech of the tires. Instinct taking over his body, Jimin slams his foot on the brake, the car managing to squeal to a stop, just a few inches away from the frozen woman. In the few moments it takes for him to register her face, he's able to discern one thing.

Bright luminescent green eyes.

In the silence that follows, Jimin breathes heavily, looking over his wheel almost hesitantly. He doesn't know if he hit her, all he's aware of is that she can no longer be seen through the windshield. Fear erupting in his nerves in waves, he frantically unbuckles with shaking fingers, opening the door and dashing to the front of the car. The buzzing phone now forgotten.

He pauses for a moment taking in the scene.

The good news is that he didn't hit her.

The bad news is Jimin quite possibly terrorized her beyond reality.

She’s fallen to the ground, bags of groceries scattered around her, her eyes wide and her entire body shaking. Her hands wrap around the gravel on the ground as she shivers, her lips moving as tears start to appear at her eyes, but no sound can be heard. Jimin notices the scratches her knees have endured from the fall, the way dark smudges of pavement have mixed with the tears on her cheeks, and the small drops of blood dripping from her hands so brutally ripping through the pieces of gravel and dirt.

Sighing, he kneels beside her, trying to gather her attention. It proves to be quite difficult considering the way her eyes are locked on the headlights of the car just a few inches away from her. She shivers as she contemplates how she could have died just a few moments ago and finds the thought far too horrifying to comprehend. Fear paralyzing her like a virus, Jimin has to take her by the shoulders to gather her attention.

And there they are again. Brilliant green eyes, golden flecks scattered within her irises. They meet his deep cinnamon ones, a spark reflected between the two of them. A spark only the heavens could have seen.

"Are you okay?"

Once Jimin speaks, in a soft hushed tone, the woman breaks out of her reverie. Her eyes well up in unspoken terror, and she starts to shake even more violently at the sight of someone next to her comforting her.

Why is it when we are at our most vulnerable, we find ourselves breaking when there is someone there to hold us?

Noticing her shivers, he removes his jacket and places it across her shoulders, trying desperately not to falter at the sight of panic in her eyes.

"It's okay, I'm here."

.

.

.

"Yes, I know I'm late but I'll be there soon."

Needless to say, Jimin finally figured out how to answer his phone.

He paces a few feet away from where he left the shivering woman, his heart clenching and unclenching in distress. When did it become such a chore to talk to her? When did he start regretting every moment spent with her?

Half listening to the pressed voice on the other line, he glances at the woman who pulls his coat tighter around her body, her face pale and eyes darting around in frantic panic. At the sight, his heart tightens in pain and he struggles to shove down his guilt.

It doesn't help matters when he hears the words on the other side of the line.

"What?"

As though he were stuck in a lucid dream he tries not to let the disappointment eat at him. It's not a big deal that she ate without him, after all, he was running quite late...

Why does it bother him so much?

Why does the thought make him feel alone?

Oh, I don't know Jimin, maybe it's the fact that she used you.

Again.

Your money, your love, your dedication, your time.

It was all a waste after all.

"No, it's fine. We'll see each other another time."

Jimin clenches his jaw at the sound of a male voice addressing her on the other line. Suspiciously close, dangerously close. Jimin doesn't bother asking who it is. He already knows the real reason. Taking a deep breath, he tries his hardest not to give in to the tears.

God, you're pathetic aren't you?

"Okay. I have to go now, but I'll see you soon."

No, you won't.

"I lo--"

The line cuts off before he can finish his sentence, and Jimin would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. He holds the phone up for another moment as though waiting for a phantom to whisper the words he so longs to hear. Biting his bottom lip when it's clear they won't come, he pockets his phone and turns back to the woman on the bench.

Would she treat him the same?

If she were in this situation, what would she do?

Jimin knows these are desperate, ridiculous questions to ponder, but he can't help himself. He's too lost, too broken to wonder anything else. Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards her, settling onto the bench seat beside her. He knows she overheard the conversation, he knows that every time he looked at her she glanced away as though being caught in a trap.

At this moment, however, he finds it very hard to care.

"Was that my fault?"

At the question, Jimin smiles almost bitterly.

"No, it was mine." He leans his head back, sighing as he stares at the dark sky. "I should've expected it."

At the nearly dejected statement, the woman can't help but look at him with concern. She recognizes the look in his eyes. The dark swirling pit of nothing. She's seen it reflected in her own. She hesitates before speaking once more.

"If you need somewhere to be, I'll be fine." Jimin looks her way incredulously, at the glance, she smiles nervously finding it hard to meet his eyes. "I can wait for a bus on my own--"

When she glances back his way, she doesn't expect him to be so close.

His face nearly inches away from hers, she could almost swear that her heart stopped for a fraction of a second from the shock. It's not a normal occurrence to have a nearly perfect man inches away from you.

But then again, what part of this situation is normal in her eyes anyway?

Oh God, all I wanted was to get some groceries.

Jimin stares at her with an unreadable gaze, his piercing eyes staring deep into hers. Perhaps it's an attempt to see into her soul, to find some part of her character reflected within him. There has to be a reason she looks so familiar, some form of explanation for why he feels as though he's known her all his life.

Why is it so comfortable to be around her?

"What is your name?"

The woman looks up at him with wide eyes, the iridescent green nearly blinding Jimin of all reason.

"Jocelynn."

Sliding his hand on the back of the bench as he leans closer to her, she avoids his eyes. Inwardly she prays that he doesn't hear her heartbeat increasing every second he is close to her.

"Jocelynn." At the sound of her name on his tongue, her stomach turns in on itself. Looking back at him she is surprised to find that his gaze has never strayed from hers. "You know that when it's this late, it's not smart to be on your own right?"

His voice is deep and husky, drawn to a near whisper that is hardly distinctive but manages to move every possible emotion present in her heart. Raising an eyebrow, Jocelynn tilts her head slightly.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You were alone."

If she expected him to be flustered, she couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, his eyes darken once more and he smiles half to himself.

"Maybe I don't want to be alone."

Another second, maybe Jimin would have leaned further. Another second and maybe he would have placed his lips on hers. Another second and perhaps he would have been able to forget just how empty he was, as long as he was holding another in his arms.

But when he sees the sad conjecture hidden within her eyes, he can't bring himself to use her in that way. For some unknown reason, he finds that he can't hurt her even if it means he'll feel whole.

Coming to his senses, he pulls away. The same space that was between them a few moments ago, opening once more. He leans forward resting his arms on his legs, his hands clenched tightly together, his heart playing games with his mind.

She's just a stranger, someone he met by some strange coincidence of the skies.

And yet, he can't bear to see that look in her eyes.

"You never told me your name."

Jimin turns to Jocelynn, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

"You don't know me?" he murmurs, obviously surprised, and probably wondering if she's lying. Jocelynn in turn rolls her eyes at the assumption that anyone would be oblivious to who he was, and Jimin can't help but feel amused.

"So what if I do? It's polite to introduce yourself to strangers you nearly run over." Jocelynn responds, her eyes glinting mischievously and Jimin can't help it.

He laughs.

Jocelynn smiles at the sight, almost proud that she was able to leech that out of him. After a moment, Jimin turns to her and extends his hand her way.

"My name is Jimin." When she doesn’t take it right away, he raises his eyebrow at her. In turn, she rolls her eyes before intertwining her hand with his and shaking it. Jimin can't help but think that her hand is soft, comforting, almost made to fit with his. Inwardly, he chastises himself for thinking that way.

When will he remember that fate and destiny don't exist?

Hasn't he been taught that enough?

"It's nice to meet you Jimin."

When she says his name, it's almost as though some invisible bind around his heart has been released. He's able to breathe for the first time, he's able to forget everything he's been harboring deep inside. Almost as though a simple utterance of his name on her tongue has set him free.

"I'm sorry I ruined your date." Jocelynn apologizes before pulling away, and Jimin considers scrambling to hold her hand tightly within his own. In order to refrain himself, he scratches the back of his neck as he shakes his head.

"It's not your fault, don't worry." He reassures her, and she bows her head, smiling to herself. Sighing, Jimin looks back up at the stars, finding it fascinating the way they can shine so bright from so far away. "If I'm being honest it was probably ruined before I met you."

"Do you mind saying why?" At the thought of showing her that vulnerable side of himself, he can feel the darkness start to taint the inner corners of his heart.

Why is it so frightening to reveal one's weakness?

Smiling almost bitterly, he avoids her eyes as he answers her.

"Have you ever had a relationship where you know you're being used, but you stay in it because you're afraid of being alone?"

Jocelynn flinches at the description, being reminded of a time way back where she had exactly that. Painful memories she had thought she had since buried ever since he was removed from her life. Moments she thought she had left behind the moment she promised she would move on.

"That's my relationship." Jimin continues, Jocelynn listening quietly beside him. "I mean it started nice enough. The usual honeymoon phase. She was sweet and funny. To top it off she was just drop-dead gorgeous, I thought I hit the gold mine. The luckiest guy in the world."

Though he doesn't look her way and she doesn't make a move to comfort him, somehow her presence beside him makes things easier for him. He doesn't feel as though someone is violating his memories, he doesn't feel as though she were a stranger. On the contrary, he feels as though this were a normal thing, as though he had been confiding in her all his life.

"Until I saw that she was only happy when she was taking from me. She used me for money, sex, love..."

It was all a lie.

Even now, Jimin can't bear to utter the words, instead they hang over his head. Unspoken but the reality hitting him like a grenade.

"Yeah, she was sweet all right. Like poison."

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head at himself. He never knew self-deprecation could hurt this much. Slowly building up each day until he threatens to break.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I don't even know you."

It's strange, he can't even confide in his friends. He doesn't even feel as though he's able to talk to Tae like he used to, why is it so easy for him to talk to Jocelynn? A person whom he met on a chance encounter, someone whom he didn't even know the name of until just a couple of seconds ago. They are little more than strangers, so how is this so easy?

At the question, Jocelynn smiles to herself, remembering something she had heard once before. From a mere child, and yet it was a child who was the first person to teach her she was never truly alone.

"Sometimes it's easier to talk to those you don't know. They don't have room to judge, they don't know what you did wrong or where you messed up. You may never see them again, so what harm is there in talking to them? That way you don't have to deal with the baggage following you around."

Jimin looks at her with surprise and finds that her gaze is far away. Those green eyes that are so calm and serene are now filled with unspoken tears and sparkling gems of pain.

"I'm not going to say some crappy thing like 'why don't you just leave' or 'she's toxic just drop her' because I know how hard that really is." She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves before continuing. "However, I know what it's like to be used and endure pain because you don't want to be alone. So I will say something to help you make up your mind."

When she meets his delicate tawny eyes with her tender green ones, he finds himself struck speechless. She looks at him almost as though she were afraid he'd break. As though he needed a shield to protect him at all costs and she would be willing to be that shield.

Since when was it Jimin who needed protecting?

"You deserve better."

"What?"

Jimin seems shocked, almost baffled at the notion. Jocelynn smiles almost bitterly to herself. Is that what she looked like when she was told the same thing? Was it so hard to believe that someone like her could deserve to be happy?

"No matter what you may tell yourself, you deserve love. You deserve to be loved. No matter what you think you may have done or how scared you are of being alone, you deserve to have someone reciprocate the love you give to them." Jocelynn holds her hands tightly together as she speaks, an attempt to refrain herself from reaching over and taking his within hers. Though she longs to give him some sort of comfort, she has to keep her distance. "From the way you're describing it...this relationship doesn't sound like it's love."

The silence that blossoms between them is one not easily broken. It's a silence filled with unspoken emotions, late realizations, and hard-won ignorance crumbling. When Jimin looks at her, he admires the way her face shines in the moonlight, her hair that tumbles down around her shoulders, the way she exuberates calm serenity that never thought he'd find.

Almost as if she were an angel sent for him.

When the bus pulls up in front of the two of them, Jimin finds that he doesn't want her to be a stranger. He doesn't want her to leave. He wants her to be around him, he wants her to know his burden. And above all...

He doesn't want to hide anymore.

"Just...think about it okay?" Jocelynn stands, sliding the jacket Jimin gave her not but a few moments ago off her shoulders and offering it up to him. "Here."

He sits there for a stunned moment, staring up at her and the jacket. Within his mind, he makes a quick decision, one that he sincerely hopes he doesn't regret.

Standing, he pushes the coat back to her and smiles.

"Keep it." He murmurs as her emerald eyes widen, a soft rosy hue threatening to erupt on her cheeks. Smiling to herself, she nods, holding the jacket close to her chest, before stepping back toward the bus.

"Thank you." She whispers back, turning on her heel and boarding the bus.

Leaving Jimin alone.

As the doors close, and the familiar hiss exuberates from the vehicle as it pulls away, Jimin stands there. He watches Jocelynn walk down the aisle, before settling into a seat beside a window. She presses her cheek against the cool glass before turning back to the jacket she holds in her hands. Jimin sees as she smiles to herself before holding it close to her heart, her face buried deep within the fabric.

He doesn't notice the grin on his face as he witnesses the pink blush on her cheeks, and the wide smile on her face as she pulls away. Her eyes sparkle with a joy he's only seen on TV screens, and in the back of his mind, he wonders if it's possible to keep that smile to himself. He wonders if she'd be willing to stay by him forever.

Then the bus is gone, she's gone, and he's left in the dust of forgotten memories and broken tears.

"No..." He murmurs, a smile playing at the memory of her green eyes.

"Thank you."

note: NEW CHARACTER ALERT!!! This character has a lot of background to do with Yen, which will be revealed later. I really like this chapter and enjoyed writing in a different POV for different characters. I think this is a nice view into Jimin's side of the story and hopefully we can expand on it soon. Anyways! Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed!

chapter 35 here

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[lettrespromises]

> LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

> Letter object : the heart’s warmth and the body’s flames.

> Todoroki Shouto and Bakugou Katsuki sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

@bruised-cherry​ sent a letter : ❝Hiya, Nikki! Can I request a one-shot(if you're down) where Todoroki and Bakugou's(poly relationship) s/o got into a little argument with each other and now their s/o is rejecting them and ignoring them. Since it's summer, TodoBaku turned off the air conditioning, AC, etc, knowing their s/o would need them soon. And just, kinky, dirty ass s m U t :) (and lana spelled backwards if you're down with that, if not that's cool). Sorry I'm a kinky hoe 👉😅👈❞

Author’s letter :

❝ dear bruised-cherry,

first and foremost, i would like to apologize for taking so long to write your promised letter! nonetheless, i had a lot of fun writing it, hopefully it will reach your expectations!! it’s 4:05am as i am writing this and my brain is unable to write proper words i’m sorry—

sealed with a kiss,

nikki.❞

Genre : Pure smut, angst if you squint.

Warnings : Cursing, sex, vaginal sex, blow-job, cunnilingus, anal sex, daddy kink. (Please consider that the characters are aged up.)

Word count : 5.8K.

This day seemed to counterbalance the already established rules of time and space, you were secretly convinced that minutes were hours and each time you would lay your eyes upon any item with the sole purpose of indicating the current hour, you felt as if time had stopped. It was a long, long day. Truthfully, you wished you could have had the opportunity to meet someone whose quirk was time control to ask them to skip the remaining hours of the day.

The root of the problem was deeply imbedded with the increasing attacks committed by the villains in town, you were on a mission with both Bakugou and Todoroki- a clear lack of communication and coordination signed a burning defeat for the three of you. A mission built and perfected during several months had just blown into pieces, your efforts, tears, blood and energy were the combustibles to the pain fueled by this defeat. Each one of you attempted to exude this loss in your own way while making your way back home. Todoroki, sat on the passenger seat, found the cure to his own inner built-up anger by digging his pearly whites into the flesh of his thumb while observing the passing scenery before his eyes. Bakugou, unexpectedly, made a martyr of the steering wheel by squeezing the non-existent life out of it, causing his fingers to turn white in the process. You, on the other one hand, kept on reminiscing the earlier events of today, your mind roaming over and over again to find what went wrong, you weren’t exactly angry : disappointed in yourself was a more precise way to describe the matter.

The silence was deafening, almost agonizing. Truthfully, silence was even more intimidating than noise- a noisy ride would have included the repertoire of Bakugou’s insults flowing freely from his mouth, it was expected. But silence, on Bakugou’s end, echoed to a level of anger rarely ever reached, metaphorically speaking, Katsuki was a living and breathing ticking bomb at this very moment.

The sound of the car door smashing broke the silence as you arrived home, Bakugou was already inside, his hands shoved in his pockets as expected. You freed a sigh you ignored you were holding from your lips, an early sign that you knew there was little to no seconds left on the ticking bomb. Todoroki sent an apologetic glance in your way, you knew he didn’t mean no harm, if anything, it was a silent sign to encourage you before facing the aftermath caused by the explosion of the bomb.

Flower vases left shattered on the floor, a door handle scarred by the scorching hot imprints of Bakugou’s unforgiving hold and a continuous flow of insults as background noise- those were the said aftermath of the explosion. Bakugou’s body language radiated off pure anger, like you or Todoroki had barely seen before, his rage was exuding from the pores of his palms through a dangerous marriage of small explosions and smoke. He was roaming back and forth in the living room, his stare was focused on the explosions emanating from his hands as a way to convince himself that the more explosions would be set free, the less he would feel angry.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck… Goddamnit, fuck! What the fuck went wrong, hah?! We planned this shit entirely, from start to fucking finish. What the fuck went wrong?! You tell me instead of staring at me, do fucking something for once! » The words echoed and morphed into a roar sent directly your way, anger lacing his every word.

« Bakugou, don’t say things you don’t mean. » Todoroki stated, the pseudo comfort embedded in his voice radically clashed with the heat of Bakugou’s words.

« Don’t say shit I don’t mean? Who the fuck are you to tell others what to do when you couldn’t even do shit when we were facing those bastards?! You didn’t do shit, you fucking left us on our own and arrived at the very last second. So tell me, give me one good fucking reason as to why I should take shit from you! Fucking say it to my face, because I’m dying to know what’s your excuse. » The sounds of Bakugou’s explosions slowly adopted the structure of a crescendo, but Todoroki remained unfazed, his facial expression didn’t betray his pseudo serenity. « I was evacuating the civilians, you knew that, I don’t understand why you act so confused. We prepared this plan together, the three of us, you knew what my role was. »

You were stuck in the middle of a battlefield, torn between two sides but the tragic twist of this scene was that you couldn’t find the strength to defend one of them. You needed to remain objective and impartial, something obviously easier said than done. Your eyes darted from one figure to another each time you heard the sound of either Todoroki or Bakugou’s words, truthfully, you felt paralyzed under the lack of options in this crucial situation- on one hand, Katsuki was nothing short of acerbic when anger consumed him, on the other one hand, Shouto’s calm attitude hid a dangerous amount of anger building inside of him ready to explode if Bakugou’s venom stung too hard to Todoroki’s liking.

« Oh yeah, yeah. You were on you own, hah? Evacuating civilians and shit, am I supposed to feel fucking sorry for you when Y/N were busting our fucking asses out there to take down those bastards? You’re trying to play it solo like your old man? You know what, the more I think about it, the more you start to act like him-… »

« Katsuki! That’s enough, shut up! »

It was your turn to let anger lace your words in such a way that they developed their own toxins, purposefully made to sting Bakugou hard enough to cut his rambling. Endeavor was a touchy topic to Shouto, and as soon as Katsuki pronounced the words ‘old man’, a hint of flames appeared on Todoroki’s collarbone- it was only a matter of second before an inferno invaded the living room.

« You never know when to stop, do you? Do you have any idea of how ridiculous this is? You, Bakugou, you should know out of all people that his father his a sensitive topic, and yet you let your anger get the best of you every damn time. Todoroki, were you really ready to blast your flames at him? Aren’t the both of your grown men, or am I mistaken? How disappointing, how fucking disappointing. » You dropped every last ounce of energy in your tirade, every last bit of emotion in the process too. You felt so numb, deprived from your own vigor.

Both Todoroki and Bakugou’s eyes fell on you as soon as your roaring words broke their mutual verbal assaults, their mouths were set agape- they did have words on the tip of their tongue, but they couldn’t find the strength to give life to them. There it was again, the deafening and agonizing silence.

You couldn’t bare standing in the same vicinity as them, disappointment clouded your vision and the more you looked at them, the more your vision became foggy- but it still remained unclear as to whether it was due to the disappointment or the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Without wasting yet another second, you went upstairs and locked yourself in your room, giving yourself some privacy to wipe away your tears.

Downstairs, the silence was still suffocating both Bakugou and Todoroki, their stare were still laying upon the spot where you used to be just a few seconds earlier, they just hadn’t processed your sudden disappearance. They blinked once, then twice, and a third time to make sure they weren’t dreaming and once they were convinced it was very much real, they looked at each other and sighed as if they were, too, deprived of their own energy.

« Bak-… Katsuki, it was my mistake to threaten you with my flames, I apologize. » Todoroki’s tone was soft in comparison to his last statement, a sense of compassion replaced the anger laced in his words.

« I shouldn’t have talked about your shitty dad. » A sentence, which, in Bakugou’s vocabulary echoed to an apology, but with the cruel exception of the forbidden word which begins with an ’s’ and ends with ‘-orry’.

« I assume Y/N is not going to talk to us for a while, and, don’t take it personally but her presence is very much needed. » Bakugou frowned as Todoroki’s words connected to his eardrums, needless to say, he knew he was right but didn’t care enough to admit it and grant him this silent victory.

« I might have an idea, half-and-half, use your shitty quirk to lower the temperature of the house, you know how much she fucking hates cold temperatures. That’s gonna make her move her ass out of the bedroom. » Todoroki only quirked his eyebrows in response while Bakugou was adorning his most victorious grin, he knew this plan meant an automatic win- both of them could handle cold temperatures thanks to their quirks, you on the other one hand, were more fond of warmer temperatures.

Todoroki sighed, perhaps already regretting his choice to follow Bakugou’s antics, but if it meant that he had to play dirty to get you, he was ready to deem himself as the dirtier player in the game. Soon enough, a frigid fog invaded mercilessly the first floor, and your bedroom was the first victim of the unforgiving coldness. Little did you know, this was the beginning of a series of crushing defeats on your end : seeking warmth underneath your blankets? Didn’t work. Blow air on your hands? A total fail. Looking through your boyfriends’ closets to find one of their thick hoodies and wear it? Not the solution you needed to cure the problem.

You were running out of solutions, and that’s when your unconsciousness crept in and murmured suave temptations to your ear : the welcoming warmth of Bakugou and Todoroki’s bodies, their arms wrapped around you like a human cocoon to protect you from the cold temperature. It sounded like a dream, and you had the means to make it real- but at what cost? You roamed around the room, not only to create body warmth by moving, but also to accelerate the train of your thoughts. What was more important? Freezing yourself to death with your pride as an inexistent shield from the cold, or embrace the agonizingly tempting warmth radiating from both of your boyfriends?

The answer to your rhetorical question manifested itself rather quickly- in the blink of an eye, you had already wrapped your hand around the doorknob and raced downstairs towards the personifications of your very own personal heaters under Shouto’s puzzled expression and, in contrast, Katsuki’s triumphing grin.

« Hah? Have you finally decided to show up, princess? » Anyone could have noticed the more-than-obvious obnoxious tone dripping from Bakugou’s words, he glanced over at Todoroki who grinned at him in response, silently thanking him.

« Just keep me warm. » You found a perfect spot right between Katsuki and Shouto on the couch, your knees were brought to your chest, your arms were encompassing your legs- if anything, you were pretty close to looking like a sphere, but you were ready to contort yourself in any position to gather some precious warmth. Eventually, you let out a silent sigh as soon as you felt their respective warmth hit the surface of your skin as a sign of satisfaction.

« I think you forgot the magic word, love. » Shouto teased, his warm index gracing the cold flesh on your shoulder, such a tease.

« Ugh, fine! Keep me warm, please. » You emphasized the pleading word, just enough to make them grin even wider in victory.

« ‘Wasn’t so hard, was it, princess? » You couldn’t exactly tell if you hated or were absolutely enamored with the teasing tone of his voice, but once thing was certain- the grin plastered upon his face was a thing of beauty.

Bakugou, as expected of him, took the lead, or rather, sent a silent challenge in Todoroki’s way which dared him to take the upper hand of the situation. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a lion-like manner, ready to protect what’s his, with the help of his strength you were now sitting on his lap. The grip around your frame didn’t move one bit, not only did he want to provide you as much warmth as his quirk allowed, but he also wanted to maintain control. Your head was laying upon the surface of his shoulder, your face was facing Todoroki who admired you as if he had witnessed the renaissance of Venus under your traits.

« I will help you feel a bit more warm, alright, love? » You hummed in response to Todoroki’s one-sided interrogation.

Another source of warmth was more than welcome. Thus, Shouto wasted no time and placed his hand upon the surface of your cheek, daring to cross Bakugou’s self-claimed territory in the process without any ounce of shame. The amount of space between the two of you had dangerously reduced until totally disappearing which cleared Todoroki’s path on his way to show you just how much he could warm you up. His lids fluttered shut in anticipation, and there it was, the oh so fabulous source of warmth- he planted his lips on yours in perfect harmony. After all, a promise was a promise, correct? Regardless of how it’s executed, correct? That was exactly Shouto’s mindset as his tongue grazed your bottom lip to beg for access to the inside of your mouth, a wish quickly granted which allowed him to spread the warmth of his tongue inside your mouth as his pink muscle met yours which only announced the beginning of the dance of pleasure. Your actions corresponded to his, and his initiatives echoed to yours— soon enough, your tongues were melting in each other’s touch. As much as he wanted to keep this going forever, the way you grabbed his wrist was an indicator that you were starting to lack oxygen. Of course he ended the kiss, but not before he dug his teeth into your lower lip to which you responded with a semi silent whimper.

Bakugou observed the scene from the side with the same smirk gracing his facial features, he would be the worst liar on Earth if he were to say that seeing your mouths collide in harmony wasn’t the epitome of poetry in motion. But who was he to let Shouto get the best of you? Who was he to let Shouto make you whimper first? He craved, no, he needed to make you melt under his touch.

« Want us to make you feel hot, princess? Be careful what you wish for. » This sentence was his final warning before flipping you over on your back, offering him the best position to physically tale the upper hand under Shouto’s amused stare. You looked so pure and yet so sinful at once, a paradox which drove of them crazy as they imagined the most unholy deeds they were going to do to you. Katsuki’s index hooked the fabric of your hoodie (more like his, but it’s just a slight detail which turnt him on even more) before to pull it over your head.

Oh, and what a gorgeous sight to behold— your naked upper body, in all its glory, a body worthy of the most descriptive pages of a novel. He couldn’t help but snicker at the ethereal scenery before his eyes, he knew he was going to devour you and make you his, no matter what.

« Don’t give me those eyes, woman, I fucking told you I was gonna make you feel real hot. You won’t need this shitty hoodie to keep you warm. »

The assault was given once his pearly whites dug into the soft flesh of your neck, reflex kicked, you titled your head to the side to give him more room to play with. It was a succession of biting, licking, biting again until your skin adopted a purplish tone which echoed to a mark of both domination and belonging. Of course, you belonged to him… And Todoroki. Once he was satisfied with his artwork, he licked the abused flesh one last time before smirking to himself as a sign of victory.

You couldn’t expect Todoroki to be left out of the party, after all, you did belong to him too. He pushed Bakugou to the side just enough to bask in the glory of your half-naked form. The gleam in his eyes reflected nothing but pure adoration, he was torn between the will to worship each inch of your body and the tempting option to make your legs weak until you can’t form proper words anymore. Oh, well, both were bound to happen.

« Oi! If you wanna touch her, don’t fucking push me! » Bakugou’s rambling was cut short as soon as Todoroki’s lips crashed on his, the blonde eye’s widened in surprise but he eventually allowed himself to crave to the passion.

« I don’t need your permission to touch what’s mine. » Todoroki whispered against the flesh of your breasts, emphasizing the very last word strategically.

The sight of your hardened nipples caused him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation, just a way to warm up his lips before devouring your flesh. Todoroki wasted no time and took this opportunity to let his tongue grace your left bud, the motions were repetitive and hypnotizing— from circular motions right around your nipple, from vertical licks to sucking motions, each deed was designed for your own pleasure while your whimpers falling free from your lips and the hand stuck at the root of his hair encouraged his actions. Your whimpers were cut short once Bakugou’s lips found yours and dragged you in a tongue-led kiss, and to no one’s surprise, you followed his already established rhythm, but goodness, it was deliciously intoxicating, letting you crave for more. And somehow, the sound of your hushed whimpers created an even more attractive melody.

Now, it was Todoroki’s turn to take advantage of the vacant place left by Bakugou who was now bent on your side which meant that your whole body to discover for the umpteenth time. A trail of kisses left from the valley of your breasts to your lower belly indicated which dangerous way Shouto was bound to take. He took a glance at the liplock share with Katsuki who offered you no rest no matter if you craved for oxygen or not, the same amused grin still plastered upon his facial features, and augmented the temperature just a bit more.

His finger drew an invisible line along the edge of your underwear, a pre-meditated deed which only announced in advance what he was bound to do, he was just one step closer to make your legs crumble under his touch. In a swift motion, fueled by his own personal hunger to satisfy his fantasies, Todoroki got rid of your pants and he could already discern the wet patch adorning the cotton surface of your underwear, what a sight to see. A new trail of kiss was left upon your skin by Shouto, this time, he focused on the inside of your thighs and followed a vertical pattern until reaching the climax of his journey : your already dripping heat.

« Are you already this wet for us, love? How kind of you. » The amused tone which embedded his voice hid a hidden sinful tone, such a contrast, but only Bakugou and you could catch the double-tone.

Bakugou, on the other one hand, mimicked Todoroki’s earlier antics (only to outdo him, his own ego was his sole motivation) and made a victim of your breasts. One lovebite on your neck wasn’t enough, he craved to make you his even more, on every inch of your body. This thought was the reason behind his will to bite the generous flesh of your left breast, which clearly isn’t abused enough to his liking. And so it began once more— biting, licking, biting once more just hard enough to make you whimper in response, suck on your flesh until it becomes purple and has his name written all over it. From the love bite, Katsuki kissed his way until your nipple, the motions of his mouth were strategically chosen to make pure sounds of pleasure fall free from mouth mouth, while his thumb and index were twisting your nipple while following the circular motions of his tongue. The harsh grasp you held onto his blonde hair was only one of the first hints that you were on your way to reach a state of pure bliss, the moans echoing in his head were his favorite hint though.

The sensation of a sharp lick across the fabric of your underwear awakened a new whimper on your end, this time, it was higher which only echoed to a higher level of pleasure. Todoroki’s lips curved into a grin at the sound of it, what a marvel to hear. The fabric which separated your core from Shouto’s lips was seen as a taunt to the latter, but fret not, said taunt was quickly taken care of as soon as he got rid of your underwear, throwing them who-knows-where in the room.

And so the temperature augmented yet again— an experimental lick caused you to bite your lower lip to refrain any moan to escape from your mouth as you closed your eyes in anticipation for pure bliss. Your reaction was the best indicator to Shouto who had found yet another motivation to make you come undone— getting to hear your agonizingly breathtaking whimpers and moans fall in cascade from your lips. Your core was wet, much to Todoroki’s delight, and he could almost hear you calling his name, begging him to eat you as if you were his last dinner on Earth.

His mouth married the shape of your core, his tongue danced beautifully against your folds as if your core had been specifically created to welcome the wonders of his mouth. The licks left by his pink muscle were executed differently in several ways— vertical licks, circular shapes, he based his actions on the sound of your shameless moans and whimpers to predict his next move.

« Shouto, S-Shouto! » Your first begging, which didn’t go unnoticed to both of the protagonists of your very own pleasure.

« So eager, aren’t you, love? » He kissed these words into your skin, words embedded with adoration and love in the process.

Well, there was someone whose name hadn’t been begged, and truth be told, it was getting on his nerves. How dare Shouto have the honor of being begged and not him? Oh, well, he was about to change that right away.

« Open wide, princess, I’ll give you something to fucking beg about. » The same usual smirk accompanied his words, he already knew what was bound to happen, and the knew what effect it would leave on you.

By the time you were busy with Shouto, Bakugou had already taken care of his own clothing by… taking everything off. Isn’t it easier that way? His genetically given large hand stroked tentatively his length, just enough to cause a layer of pre-cum to cover his tip, once he was satisfied with the result, he wasted no time to shove his entire member in your mouth in a swift motion. The warmth of your lips was the most delicate welcome he could’ve asked for, regardless if you were to choke or not, he’d find a way to make you beg his name until it becomes the only thing you’re able to say. Your throat grazed the sensitive tip of his grit, earning you a hushed grunt as a reaction which was a rarity coming from Bakugou. Both of his hands held a harsh grip on your hair, and he used said grip as a level of pressure to thrust himself into your mouth under the mesmerizing sounds of your choked whimpers. It was a scenery of beauty, he was the sole holder of all your attention— you were looking at him through your lashes with pleading eyes, silently begging him to keep going until you were to choke on his member. A silent sign he didn’t miss, he knew you like the back of his hand, after all.

Eventually, Shouto complied to your begs, you wanted more? Oh, you were bound to get more, more precisely, you were bound to have exactly what you deserved. Todoroki and tease were very close to being synonymous, hence why he purposefully used the pad of his thumb to create circulate motions on your sweet bundle of nerves which was the key to make you come undone, and, of course, two of his fingers which had already found a shelter inside your folds while pumping in and out, over and over again, until bringing you to the brim of ecstasy.

Under this new pressure, the need to express your pleasure through moans was almost impossible given the fact that each sound coming out of your mouth was rendered hushed by Bakugou’s length. Your wrapped your hand around his phallus to not only catch some cruelly needed oxygen but also set free all the sounds of pleasure trapped inside you, as soon as your mouth was set free, a pure sound of bliss fell free from your lips. A sound so sinful and addicting at once that both Bakugou and Todoroki couldn’t help but repeat said sound in their head over and over again.

« Oi, princess, I didn’t fucking tell you to stop so keep sucking until I say otherwise, did you fucking get that? » It was a one-sided question, your answer wouldn’t matter anyway.

And there he went again, shoving his member inside your mouth as Bakugou began chasing his own pleasure— if he was careful enough, he could picture the shape of heaven when his lids fluttered shut. This time, his thrusts were harsher, clearly designed to attain his climax. But he wasn’t the only one who was close to reach the seventh sky— the addition of Shouto’s fingers pumping in and out, the oh so right pressure on your sweet of nerves and the precise licks left on your wet folds was nothing short of divine, that divine that it was going to make you reach your orgasm sooner than you thought.

Reflex kicked, your grip on Shouto’s hair became gradually tighter as you felt the knot in your stomach grow more and more until it became out of your control, you rolled your eyes back in ecstasy and the pearls of tears on the corner of your eyes were now rolling down the surface of your cheeks. Through choked sounds, you encouraged Shouto to keep going and going until you could touch heaven by the tip of your fingers. And then heaven came to you, the liberating sensation of floating on a cloud overwhelmed you as you reached your orgasm, manifesting the pure sounds of bliss through the hushed sounds caused by Bakugou’s intrusive length.

« You’re such a good girl, love, you came undone for us. Such a good girl… » The end of his sentence was whispered in marvel against your core, it was a sight he could never get bored of.

His tongue found once more its way to your folds, licking each and every drop of your juices to satisfy his own pleasure. Your taste was his favorite, it was addicting as hell, so addicting that before to swallow said juices, he would always make a mental note of how your cum feels on his tastebuds.

« Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, god-fucking-damnit! » Bakugou’s grunts followed the structure of a crescendo, he threw his head back in pure pleasure— he was so close, so fucking close, he wanted to reach the seventh sky as well.

Todoroki grabbed him by the nape of his neck, his fingers digging right in Katsuki’s flesh, and planted his lips still coated with your juices right upon his. Bakugou could taste your sweet nectar on Shouto’s lips, and perhaps it was the last thing necessary for him to come undone— your taste always had the ability to bring him over the edge, and once more, this time was no exception. Bakugou groaned against Shouto’s lips before breaking the contact between them to share a pure sound of ecstasy of his own and eventually, come undone right in your mouth. A string of the blonde’s cum dripped down from the corner of your mouth, and observing you use your tongue to collect the remaining cum on your chin made Bakugou if he wasn’t going to come undone twice in a row at the sight of this.

« Come on, love, we’re not done yet. » This was the final chapter of all of Shouto’s fantasies, a chapter which was finally bound to take form.

Todoroki snaked his arms around your form to place you right on his lap, once the position was comfortable for the both of you, he placed his length right against your twitching core which was already begging for him to fill you.

« Please, j-just fuck me already… Please… » Another auditive wonder— the sound of you begging was worthy of the most beautiful symphony.

« You asked so nicely, love, who am I to refuse? » A rhetorical question, as expected of Shouto when he led the teasing game.

Shouto filled you instantly, shoving his entire length inside you which caused the unexpected appearance of a moan which you could hardly suppress even by biting your lower lip. An initiative quickly ended by Bakugou’s intervention who tilted your head just enough so he could plant a rough kiss upon your lips in order to prevent you from hushing those sounds of pleasure any longer.

« Don’t be fucking shy, let us hear what you gotta’ say, baby girl. » You looked at Katsuki with pleading eyes, you knew that you were not going to be able to suppress or refrain any of your moans or whimpers, you knew you were bound to become a vocal mess.

Shouto’s hands held a strong grip on your waist, so strong that the tip of his fingers turnt white under the pressure. His rhythm was frantic from the beginning, using the combination of his hips bucking upwards and his arms wrapped around your middle to clash against his testicles. You had the best spot to hear up close and personal the ravishing sounds of bliss coming out of Shouto’s mouth like a broken record. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as a desperate cry for support as his hips were pounding deep inside you until reaching your cervix.

Behind you, Bakugou had already made sure to wet his fingers to prep you. Prep you for what exactly? Oh, well, we all know Bakugou doesn’t handle well being left alone, especially when Todoroki has the advantage of him. The tip of his fingers brushed against your rectum until two of them entered your second hole, he expected this reaction but your moans were ethereal, especially when he was the cause of them. His fingers pumped into your rectum just enough for you to get used to the stretch and to the knew (and double) sensation.

« Be a good fucking girl for daddy and let him fuck you from behind, yeah? » He studied your facial expression and the irregular pattern of your breaths to know whether or not you were fond of his new antics, to which you confirmed his doubts by whispering an almost inaudible « Y-Yes, daddy… »

Nonetheless, the elongated moan you let out in his favor once his fingers reached a bit deeper in your rectum was enough for him to get the clue and replace the feeling of his index and middle finger with the width of his length. A pure sound of pleasure with his name written all over it, if you were to ask Bakugou, he would tell you right away that this is what heaven felt like.

« I-I’m going to cum, I can’t-… » Shouto’s hot breath crashed against your equally as hot skin, it became impossible for him to suppress his grunts any longer.

Bakugou mirrored his pace which had suddenly quickened under the pressure erupting in his lower belly, he could already touch the clouds of the seventh sky, and you were the key to unlocking the divine skies of heaven.

« Fuck… Fuck, I’m close too. » Their grunts matched in unison under the melody of your repetitive moans caused by the double pressure.

With one last thrust from both protagonist, you felt two rushes of hot liquids invade your insides as a moan signed their orgasm. That was it, they came undone and touched heaven as they came inside of you, all the pent up pressure in their abdomen had been set free for your greatest pleasure. You rolled your head back on Katsuki’s shoulder, oxygen had become a rarity under the frantic thrusts of the two newfound victims of passion. Once your lungs felt full again, you released an elongated sigh which drained all of your strength in the process.

Bakugou pulled out first, causing you to whimper at the sudden sensation of vacuity replacing the ever so addictive sensation of being filled by the man who held the keys to your heart. As he pulled out, his arms snaked around your middle and he dragged you with him, hot breaths crashing against your blazing skin. Katsuki put your head over his chest while you mustered up the last bits of vigor you could invoke to find shelter in his comforting embrace.

As soon as Shouto evened his breathing pattern, he felt the urge to join you and Katsuki— laying by your side, his arms draped over your waist, he felt at peace with the two most important people in his life, the true definition of perfection to him. Silence came back again, but this time it was comforting, a silence which held all the fierceness of your feelings for one another. A few kisses were planted here and there on your skin as a silent way to show gratitude, but all three of you were absolutely drained because of passion.

« If you’re still feeling cold, I know a fucking way or two to fix this shitty problem, princess. »

[itamiiscribble]

*HiSS* Chapter 4 [ PART 1 ]

_________________________________________

"I'm not moving my pink ass 𝘰𝘯𝘦 inch."

Mina is currently sitting (if you could call it that) on the couch in the common room, complaining about being too lazy and worn out to do anything more than 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.

It's Sunday afternoon, the day after the Birthday party and half of the class is currently either laying on the couches or sitting lazily, including you. The other half was either training or doing their own thing.

The conversation you all are having (and trying to convince Mina to join you all) is about going out for some drinks. No alcohol obviously, most of the squad is still hangover from last night. But it's still the weekend and no one wanted to spend their last day of the weekend in the dorms.

"Then you and your 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘴𝘴 will stay in the dorms alone because the rest of us agreed on going." , states Kyoka with an eye roll from your right. You let out a hum in agreement, trying to sound as if you're following the dialogue. Because you actually aren't, you are too busy letting the memories of yesterday pass in your mind over and over again.

It was pure luck that Deku and Todoroki realized your absence at the party last night and decided to look for you. Apparently they were already on a search tour while you were- ... 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺 with Katsuki inside of the elevator. It didn't took long for them to realize that you were probably stuck in it because there were already lots of people in front of the elevator, complaining to a staff member.

So all in all you only had to endure being alone with Katsuki for a little while. It may sound not much, but it felt like a lifetime for you. Katsuki didn't try to talk to you, either out of consideration of your situation or because there was not much to talk about. You don't know, but you were grateful regardless. Because you didn't know if you could've been able to handle to talk with him after what had happened!

And yes, the picture of the both of you looking like a mess, coming out of the elevator 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 would've been a shock to anyone in your class.

And it was, Deku's mouth fell open and he looked concerned right after. Todoroki's expression didn't change much, only from raising his eyebrows slightly you perceived that it had surprised even him.

You had stomped out and passed the both of them without saying anything. Yes, something you shouldn't have done, because that made our dear broccoli boy even more concerned and he had run after you.

But Deku was a smart boy, he knew exactly when to talk and when not to. So he just walked with you back to the party without asking a single question. That made you realize again how much you appreciated him.

And so, the night had continued, no one asked questions because most of them were too wasted to even realize your condition. And mostly because you gave your best at not showing it.

And now here you are, sitting in the common room with half of the class (Bakugou excluded, fortunately).

But apparently the conversation had ended because they all stood up and left the room.

"Wanna talk?"

You lift your head up and see Deku standing in front of you, he is looking down on you with his lips pressed into a thin line.

You knew it would come to this, so you let out a frustrated sigh and stand up.

"Yes, but let's take a walk outside."

Deku nods and and let's you lead the way. You guys walk for a while without saying a word, Deku was obviously waiting for you to say something. But how are you supposed to tell him that you had a freaking kissing session with the person you disliked the most in a freaking elevator?!

You can't just say: 'Yea hey, Katsuki said he likes me, then he kissed me and i kissed him back, in the elevator, all alone. And we kinda got off of it and started touching each other like freaking animals in heat. And i must say, i 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 liked it! '

No, you can't just blurt out something like this.

So instead, you take a deep breath and say:

"Bakugou told me that he likes me, then he kissed me, i kissed him back and i hate myself for not hating it."

....

Well done, (Y/N).

Deku halts in his track and looks at you slack jawed with his big green eyes. And the muttering begins:

"H-huh?! Kacchan?! Kacchan said he 'likes' you?! He kissed you?! But that makes no sense...? You guys are always fighting...But Kacchan actually...'likes' you? I didn't know! I didn't see! How...? And 'you' kissed him back... What does that mean...? But....?! So you guys are-"

"Deku, stop!", you interrupt him with a laugh and put your hands on his shoulder to shake him a little, trying to make him come back to 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 world. You couldn't resist laughing. His muttering looked always so funny to you. It was just 'so'... Deku.

"I didn't understand 𝘰𝘯𝘦 word Deku, as always. And yes, we kissed and he said he likes me. ", you summarise and let go of him. You put your hands on your face and let out an exhausted groan.

Broccoli boy's expression changes from shocked to worried and immediately he puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

"Hey... You okay?"

Damn. He is worried. And you don't like making people worry on your account. You are always the strong one. You barely get into moods like these.

Seeing you like this must be really worrisome.

You slowly let your hands slide down your face and give him a genuine smile.

Deku is just amazing. The perfect hero. You know you can count on him no matter what happens. You guys have been getting closer over the years and he was one of your best friends. So it's obvious why he is the first one you come to entrust your 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 with.

You tell him everything while continuing your walk.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 happened, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 it happened, how you 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭.

That you are angry. Angry at Katsuki and angry at yourself. That figuring out your emotions and Katsuki's action tires you out. That you start seeing Katsuki different now and that it scares you. That being scared of something 'that' stupid pisses you off. That you want to punch Katsuki in the face.

Hard.

And after telling him all of this, Deku says the words you were afraid of hearing but knew it would be coming.

"You have to talk to him. Confront him."

You groan dramatically and come to a stop. Deku continues walking a few steps and then turns around, looking you intensely into the eyes.

"I know... But... How? It's hard for me to be in his presence these days. And i 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 the way he makes me feel. .... I think."

Suddenly you look him dead serious into the eyes.

"Shit. I know my second weakness now. It's physical contact."

Deku bursts out laughing at your serious expression.

"And what is your first weakness?", he asks, still laughing.

You give him a look of fake disappointment.

"'𝘍𝘰𝘰𝘥 of course?!"

Deku bursts out laughing again, this time louder. You can't hold back and join him.

Ahh...this feels good.

After the laughter dies down, Deku comes closer and graps onto your shoulders, regarding you with a serious face.

"Back to the main topic. (Y/N), this is serious. You can't allow Kacchan to say and do whatever he wants. You have to confront him. You need to know what his intensions are with you."

You groan dramatically yet again and give him an anguished expression.

"Besides, the (Y/N) 𝘐 know wouldn't run away from a problem like this. She is strong willed and determined."

You look him into the eyes and see how much the green haired boy means it. He really believes in you. And again, you are so glad that you have someone like Deku on your side.

You snicker and hit him softly on the chest. Deku takes a step back and gives you a genuine big smile.

"You are amazing, you know that?" You hit him again and both of you start giggling while Deku refuses to acknowledge your compliment.

After talking to your best friend you feel like something heavy has been lift off of your body and you can breathe better again.

Deku is right, you deserve the truth. You can't allow Katsuki to play with you like this. You need to figure out his true intentions.

While walking back to the dorms, Deku keeps on trying to make you feel better, telling you stuff that had happened yesterday at the party.

Right when you are about to grab the doorknob, the door opens from the inside and Katsuki is standing right in front of you.

You look up to him and immediately feel small again.

He is 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦. You never really realized how tall he had become... And so muscular...And so.... (Damn it) handsome.

Swallowing hard you remember what Deku told you.

Broccoli boy is still standing behind you, so you can't see his face. You don't have the strength to turn around to decipher his expression because Katsuki has your 'full' attention.

His piercing garnet red eyes are looking straight into your own.

Blinking a few times to destroy this invisible force that has you locked in a paralyzed state, you take another step towards him and hold your head high.

"We need to tal-"

Your sentence ends with a loud shriek of suprise when Katsuki grabs onto your wrist and forcefully drags you inside of the building, making you walk (run!) behind him.

"K-kacchan?!"

Deku's voice makes everyone in the common room look up from their seats. And you can only detect a few blurred worried faces in your  vision because Katsuki is walking so fast!

Wait, was Kirishima just smirking?!

Katsuki is dragging you so fast behind him, you have to be careful not to miss steps when he leads you up the stairs.

Finally finding the strength to say and do something you grab onto the hand that is currently holding on your wrist.

"What do you think you are doing, Bakugou?! Let go of me!"

Katsuki isn't even listening to you, leading you straight to the area in which the boys have their rooms.

Realizing that, you panic. Why is he dragging you there?!

"H-hey! ", shouting out you still try to free yourself, but to no avail. You can't even see what kind of a face he is making because he is walking in front of you.

Why is no one following you guys?! Is no one concerned of your well being?!

Remembering Kirishima's smirk you suddenly realize he is in this too.

Internally you take a note to beat the shit out of 'both' of them as soon as this is over.

Katsuki comes to a halt so fast that you bump right into his backside.

𝘖𝘶𝘤𝘩.

Hearing him opening a door, your panicked state gets worse.

When the door opens he drags you inside and (finally!) let's go of your wrist and closes the door behind him.

So, here you are, inside of a room with Katsuki Bakugou. You are alone with him, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

Wait, this is his room, right? It must be. What the-

But instead of letting the panic control your body, you try to calm yourself and you give him a vicious look.

"Explain yourself.", you demand and take another step back. The more space between you two, the better.

Katsuki leans against the door and crosses his arms on his chest. His eyes represent calmness, disinterest even. But his mouth gives him away. He has them pressed into a thin line, obviously struggling with something.

"'God, you are a pain in the ass."

......

𝘏𝘶𝘩.

He takes his arms from his chest and runs one hand through his hair. This way he looks a little.... troubled.

But you won't let your guard down. Hell no.

"Why did you drag me here, Bakugou. You know i'm not allowed to be here! "

At that he quickly raises his head and gives you a furious look which makes you instantly take another step back.

𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘬, (𝘠/𝘕)!

"Do you know how fucking hard it is to find you alone? You are always with those nerds whenever i try looking for you. It's a pain in the ass."

Oh, so he wanted to be alone with you...

Still, this doesn't mean he has the right to 𝘢𝘣𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘵 you like this!

"But...why can't you just approach me like a normal human being and ask me to have a talk?"

He grunts in annoyance and avoids looking into your eyes.

You almost burst out laughing.

𝘊𝘶𝘵𝘦....

𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵, (𝘠/𝘕)!

Seeing the twitching of your lips Katsuki puts on his usual pissed off expression and takes a step towards you.

"Whatever. I have you now. And we need to fucking talk."

He's is standing not two meters away from you now, looking down on you, which makes you feel so small and vulnerable again.

You want to continue on feeling threatened, really. But the atmosphere has changed and you just can't stop thinking about the "I have you now" part...

You don't know why it makes you feel some certain way...

So you just stand there, looking up at him like an idiot, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

𝘎𝘰𝘥, 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋é𝘫à 𝘷𝘶.

Katsuki raises a brow at your silent behavior, obviously had not been expecting you to act this way right after he 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 you into his room.

You clear your throat and raise your head, trying to look at ease.

"You are right, we do." You are glad your voice doesn't waver. Having gathered enough strength to finally confront him, you ask him the most important question.

"Why do you like me?"

You don't know what you expect him to say, but you definitely weren't prepared for this;

The moment the question comes out of your mouth, he stands still. He doesn't move an inch, he is only looking into your eyes. As if the answer to your question lays behind those beautiful piercing red eyes.

He looks so vulnerable that it makes your breath hitch in your throat. You've never seen this side of him, and you doubt anyone ever came to see it.

Until now.

Your body moving on it's own, you take a step forward, which makes Katsuki blink in surprise and retreat a step.

You stand still, you don't know what you were about to do. But his expression had made you want to get closer to him...

"Fuck!"

.... Okay.

You are about to open your mouth to ask what's wrong but Katsuki is faster.

"I'm not good at fucking expressing myself. I just- fuck. It just fucking happened. I...fuck!"

... Alright, those are lot of 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘴.

To be honest you kind of expected him to deny it. That he would tell you that he was just fucking with you, that it's to piss you off. But seeing him like this; all flustered and trying to find the right words to express himself you realize he really means it...

But... Why so suddenly? How come he treated you like trash  three weeks ago and now he is telling you that he likes you?

You don't really know what to say, so your mouth blurts out the first thing that comes into your mind.

"You do realize it's hard for me to believe that, right?"

His expression changes from vulnerable to angry and he comes closer again, standing right in front of you now. Your vision is fixated on his chest and his scent immediately gives you flashbacks of last night.

The way he had tasted... The way his body felt...

𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯!

[Continue reading PART 2] :

[stellar-imagines]

NSFW SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝i'm not supposed to like this.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki ]

「Bakugou runs into a villain with a succubus quirk so often that it pisses him the fuck off. Why? That’s because he can never apprehend you and you’re not supposed to look sexy but you do!」 [ NSFW under the cut! ]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

"Get back here, you bitch!"

"Sorry! I can't afford to get caught!" you laughed, dodging a blast that was directed towards you from the Pro Hero who was known as Ground Zero. 

You weren't sure how long you were playing this cat and mouse game with the Pro Hero nor could you count how many times you had slipped from his grasp and escaped. It was thanks to that one stunt you pulled a few months ago, stealing weapons that were being shipped for the military. It was a feat that you had pulled off all alone and the reason why you had a huge bounty on you. Since then, you were doing your best avoiding the Pro Heroes and police force. As a villain, you worked alone, doing whatever you pleased. And as you were doing your usual thing―which wasn't something good to begin with―you met the Pro Hero Ground Zero. He was a hero who's rising through the ranks with an explosive force, no pun intended.

It's been such a long time since he started chasing after you and every time you see him, you can't help but tease him. You were born with an odd quirk, one that gave you a form of a demon. There was a pair of horns growing atop your head, sharp teeth, and a tail. Your quirk was what you often call 'Succubus', you're able to emit a pheromone that causes people to fall victim to lust which can be used to paralyze victims. In addition, you get energy from the body fluids of the opposite sex. If you're filled with energy, you'll be able to perform feats that normal people are unable to do. Having things like sharp senses, fast regeneration, and super strength.

That aside, you were currently on the run, leaping from one building to another with your abilities. Ground Zero was hot on your trail, maneuvering in the air using his quirk to propel himself. The first time you met him, he had a very intimidating aura and he was yelling 'Die!' the entire time he used his quirk. He had great control over his quirk and natural abilities when it comes to combat. You used your pheromones when you meet a dead end and normally rely on your inhuman strength. And he was one of the few heroes that always managed to corner you.

"Fuck!" he cursed as you slipped underneath his arms and sent him flying into an old abandoned building.

But you always managed to slip and escape.

"You're trying so hard, Ground Zero-san. Are you sure that you're not falling for me?" you hummed, your tail flicking behind you playfully.

Bakugou was on his knees while you stood a few meters away from him. The abandoned building was covered with a sheet which prevented light from leaking in. But now there was a gaping hole from where Bakugou had crashed into, there was light and wind coming in. Your hair swayed from side to side as you slowly stepped towards him. You crouched down in front of him, placing a hand on his head and giggling softly.

"Hello? Are you still alive?" you placed your hand beside your mouth, a mischievous smile on your face. He grunted, getting up from his position and raising his right hand. Before he could even send a blast your way, you leaped out of the way.

He was quick. Using the smoke from the first blast to hide and give him the opportunity to plan his next move. As soon as the smoke cleared, he lunged forward with the help of an explosion. He seemed a bit more serious this time, his expression oddly calm. You dodged his attacks, just barely. It as was if he ignored everything else and just focused on catching you. A blast emitted from his palm that covered your entire visage and that was the deciding factor. He grabbed you by the wrist and threw you over his shoulder. Your back hit the ground and your lungs were robbed from air for a few seconds. He had you pinned down beneath him. You squirmed a bit, trying to wiggle out from his grasp.

"I hate your pretty face and your everything. What makes you think I'm falling for you?" he spat back at you. Despite being the one at disadvantage, you manage to laugh.

That's not entirely true. One, you're a villain and one that he had been chasing for a long time. No matter what stunt he pulled, you were always stronger than him. Two, he doesn't like your personality. You're cocky but at least your actions back up your words. And lastly, you're not supposed to look sexy but fuck! He'd be an idiot if he said that you weren't! You're always wearing a black-red off-shoulder shirt where the sleeves reach your wrists.  skirt and those thigh highs that always distracted him, dear lord.

"Perhaps you had forgotten what my quirk is." you smiled innocently. Bakugou instantly let you go upon realization but it was too late. His sparks died and his knees buckled. It wasn't that obvious yet but you could see him slowly falling victim to your quirk.

“Was it too intense? Sorry! But you're so cute when you're quiet like this." you giggled, kneeling down to his level, poking at his cheek which elicited a groan from him.

"Shut up.....piece of shit....." he mumbled.

"Now, now, don't say that. I'll make you feel better. What do you say? A pretty good offer right?" you lifted his chin with your index finger. Despite being a villain, you had intentions of killing him, a Pro Hero who was just doing his job. Bakugou didn't say anything, afraid that his voice would betray him. His body was sensitive and every single touch drove him insane. When you begin to pull down his pants, his mouth fall open in shock but no words formed. They were at the tip of his tongue but he couldn't say anything.

An embarrassed flush decorated his scowling face as he glanced down at you who was preoccupied with getting his pants off. His cock sprang free in front you, fully erect and bigger than you had expected. You bent down and licked a strip from the base, you moved slowly to the tip where you swirled your tongue. The taste of precum never made you sick, in fact, it was an addicting taste. Your hand moved up and down his length as your tongue started to dance along his shaft again. It slid against the underside, tracing the veins along the way. As much as he hated your guts, his body can't deny how good he was feeling.

"If you're gonna do it.....then do it right.....pussy." he narrowed his eyes at you.

"So impatient. I'll do it alright?" you huffed, brushing your hair aside before engulfing his entire length into your mouth. Bakugou uncharacteristically let out a moan as your tongue flicked over his tip. His head dipped back, eyes clenched shut as he restrained himself from making any more noises. It shouldn't feel so good but it did! 

You bobbed your head up and down slowly, feeling his entire body shudder as you did so. The movement was slow and almost too innocent considering your nature but you wanted to take more time with him, pushing him to the edge and seeing him come undone underneath you. His mind was starting to get a bit hazy now that your quirk is at its full effect. He couldn't think straight and all he wanted was to come.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good. It feels so fucking good." he chanted, bucking his hips upwards and pushing his dick further into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged while Bakugou mewled lewdly, overwhelmed by the sensation. In the abandoned building, there was nothing but the sound of you gagging and sucking Bakugou's cock like a slut. You went faster, bobbing your head up and down when you felt his thighs twitch.

His cock twitches inside your mouth and you made no movements of pulling down. Bakugou grasped your head, his grip a bit weak but you could tell that his intention was to keep your head there. It surprised you and caused you to hum around his length. You quickened your pace, hearing his breath hitch and his hips moving on it's own.

"Fuck shit! Gonna cum soon!" he gasped. He slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling the noises that threatened to spill. The vibrations from your mouth elicited weak moans from the ash blonde whose face was bright red. He was sweating profusely, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and trailing down the side of his face.

With a loud groan, Bakugou finally came and reached his orgasm. He shot ropes of his thick seeds into your mouth while you still had his dick in your mouth. His seed spilled all the way down your throat and you swallowed everything down wantonly. It was thick and abundant, some managed to spill from your mouth.

"Hmm, look, you came a lot...." you drawled with a smirk, letting your mouth hang open to show him. His vermillion orbs narrowed at you, showing tons of emotions. Anger, refusal, love, lust, and annoyance. His chest was heaving with frustration and exhaustion. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You sat upright, slowly taking off your panties and dropping them onto the ground. Bakugou watched as you hovered over him, your shirt slipping down a bit which gave him a view of the top of your breasts. Yo lowered yourself onto his body, pressing your entire weight against his. It was just the beginning and you find yourself giving into desire as well. Pressing your lips against his, you rub your wet core onto his dick. Bakugou moaned into your mouth, hips bucking to meet your wet slit. The sensation made you moan in Bakugou's mouth.

"You acted like you hated it but you're actually into it." you laughed. The male grumbled angrily as you moved slowly against his length. He clicked his tongue, gritting his teeth and suppressing a moan.

"Shut up, it's your fucking fault that I'm like this! Hurry up and put it in already!" he cursed at you.

"Yeah, yeah, it's my fault. But that's not the right attitude to have when you're asking someone to do a favor." you smirked, raising your hips and rubbing the tip of his dick against your wet slit. Bakugou bit back a groan as his hips bucked, desperate for your pussy to be wrapped around his cock. You pulled away completely, smirking down at him. He feel a bit ashamed when he saw his dick covered in your fluids.

"Beg for it."

"Like hell I'm gonna do that!" 

"Then~I'll just leave you behind. And leave you to do it on your own. Even though the fastest way is to have sex." you playfully rolled your eyes, being a bit mischievous. Bakugou grumbled at your words, fully aware of the situation he's in.

"Please, for fuck's sake," he cursed quietly.

"Let me fucking cum inside you." At this, you laughed, not expecting him to act bashful. His fingers grip tighter around your hips. His eyes closed shut when you lowered yourself, sinking down his cock.

Hisses escaped both of your lips, the stretch had surprised you while Bakugou was overwhelmed by the feeling. But it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. You began swiveling your hips once your got used to the stretch which made Bakugou's jaw drop open. His head dipped back as you begin to ride his cock, moans slipping from your lips as you steadied yourself. Your hands were pressed against his abdomen, your ass bouncing as his grip tightens. He keeps his eyes shut and his breathing grows uneven while you continued to grind down against him. The smug grin you flash him makes him growl in anger. He may be submissive now but that was because of your quirk. He was struggling to gain control, thrusting his hips to match your pace.

"Damn, you're so fucking big!" your growled.

Gasps escaped your mouth when he bucked his hips hard, hitting a spot inside your. Your hands move to your breasts and began to play with your nipples, leaving the bouncing to him. Bakugou set his own rhythm that you ended up following. Your hips bounced faster, unsatisfied with the pace he set, you almost drowned in your own pleasure. The two of you panted heavily and soon enough, you felt him stiffen inside you. The coil in your stomach tightens until you shut your eyes. You came around his throbbing cock with a loud moan of his name.

Bakugou hisses once he finally came, releasing inside you as his entire body arched. His voice was small and weaker than normal, his hips falter and he laid on the ground. You sighed blissfully before removing yourself from him.

"Heyyyy, you awake, Pro Hero-san?" you teased, sitting next to him.

"Once I fucking recover, I'm killing you." he shot back, slowly getting up to sit.

"Ah, you were kinda cute when you're obedient?" you watched as he get dressed, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Shut up, you idiot." Bakugou grumbled angrily.

"So, you up for another round?" you giggled, keeping your attention on the ash blonde Pro Hero.

"Are you fucking serious right now?"

Total: 2254 words Published: 11.11.2019

We’re open for some limited edition prompts featuring Fall and Halloween! Read more here!

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ I used to be underage when I started writing smut and learning about the adult stuff. It’s quite funny that I have a lot of knowledge about it actually. It’s nice to know that you like our smut-shots! Okay like Sub!Kacchan is super hard to write?? Sorry for the long wait!― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! We’re back with another NSFW request. It’s a bit too short, at least in our standards.... We’re sorry to make you wait for so long and we do hope it’s worth the wait. ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[writing-radionoises]

papa

ship: background kamukoma and komahina

genre: post despair character study

prompt: monaca tries to make use of herself

notes: suicide mentioned but not expanded on, woh live with hajime and komaeda

The night is quiet these days.

That's more than okay by Monaca's terms, she's rather tired of hearing the screams and the parties and the crying rage through the night.

But, those nights return to her tonight.

"He's been screaming for hours, do you think he'll stop soon?" Kotoko says, brushing her short pink hair.

She's referring to Hajime, their father.

He is so loud, he's been screaming for hours at this point.

The screams of emotional pain, not unfamiliar to Monaca.

Unfortunately, there's not much she can do about it, either, she's no good at comfort.

And the reason Hajime is screaming has wedged itself in her heart, another crack to fix.

Nagito tried to kill himself today. God knows why, but he did.

She didn't see, thankfully, but Hajime did. It's a shame, really, Nagito was the very first person to walk into the young Towa's life with good intentions. 

He took care of her after she actually became paralyzed.

He smiled and laughed at her, taught her the meaning of hope.

Nagito is the first good adult Monaca ever met.

And now, it's more than likely he's gone.

Monaca balls up the clothing of her shorts in her hands, staring down at the bandages around her legs.

Nagito is the only good person here, the only one free or sin. Nagito would never hurt me, he'd never hurt Hajime, or anyone. He is the only one who makes hope sound like a good path. Nagito… Nagito, Nagito, Nagito, Nagito, NAGITO, NAGITO, NAGITO, NAG-

"Big sis Monaca?"

Monaca looks down at the purple haired boy. He's Mikan's boy, Kokichi's his name. He's staying the night while Mikan desperately tries to revive Nagito.

He reminds Monaca a lot of herself.

"What do you need, little rat?" She responds,a teasing smile on her face.

"Will you put me to bed?"

"Sure, Monaca would love to!"

The green haired girl wheels over to the bed Kokichi is occupying, he climbs in and Monaca pulls the blankets over him.

He is no older than five, Monaca has just turned fifteen, yet, Kokichi feels much older than he is.

"Tell me a bedtime story?"

Monaca scans her memories for a story Nagito had once told her on the nights where she was unable to sleep due to pain. There was a couple, but she remembered he had a favorite.

"Alright, Monaca will tell you her Papa's favorite bedtime story, okay?"

Kokichi nods.

"Okay, once upon a time, there was a cursed little boy…"

…

Komaeda pulled a wheelchair out of a pile of rubble, dusting it off with his hands and testing it carefully to make sure it worked, then setting Monaca in it.

"Is that comfortable?" He asked, voice muffled by his medical mask.

"It'll have to do," Monaca answered, a part of her felt bad for Komaeda for hauling hey around in search of this stupid thing.

Komaeda was too kind for his own good.

"Where to now?" The green haired girl asked.

"Well… I don't know," Komaeda said, "We should probably find my lover, or Tsumiki-san, either can help with your medical issues. I couldn't tell you where either of them are…"

"Do you even know where we are?"

Nagito chuckled, "No clue."

Monaca sighed, combing through her seafoam green locks, "We should find and establish a base, figure out contact from there."

Komaeda nodded, handing Monaca their hacking gun and wheeling her away in search of an abandoned grocery store or something.

"... Izuru hangs out in places like this, he hides in the backroom and tinkers with watches and stuff, apparently he's started building ships in a bottle…" Nagito rambled.

"He must be awfully lonely," Monaca mused.

"Maybe," he said with a laugh, "He's an introverted guy, though. Doesn't talk too much or anything. He likes animals."

"Does he have a favorite?" Questioned the girl.

"Chickens. Strange, I know. But he adores them. He talked about how he used to live next to a little petting zoo in late middle school and he'd visit and pet the chickens everyday."

"Rather endearing, Enoshima-san made him sound like a monster…"

Komaeda fell silent, pushing through the rocks and crossing a falling apart bridge.

"He thinks he's a monster, too. Izuru… Doesn't quite experience things the same way we do. Is kind of hard to explain, but to put it simply, his brain kinda just ticks slightly behind how ours does."

"Hm," answered Monaca, glancing out towards the setting sun, "He sounds like an interesting character. Monaca would like to meet him and tell him he's pretty."

Komaeda smiled, "That'd make him really happy."

…

Komaeda came across a convenience store, placed Monaca in the backroom and raided for supplies, returning with snacks if varying kinds.

He created a blanket nest, a bed for Monaca to sleep in.

Monaca sat in said blanket nest, munching on some trail mix before a question came into mind.

"Komaeda, was Mister Kamukura your first love?"

The white haired boy shrugged, holding his head up in his hands.

"Well, no. There was once a boy… Hajime Hinata. He was strikingly beautiful in everyway, you could never take your eyes off him. He was the only reserve course student I could tolerate… Hajime was kind and patient with me, we'd meet under the cherry blossom tree and talk or play games. I'd lean my head on his shoulder and he blushed… He was truly the first person I ever fell in love with."

"What happened to him?"

"... He disappeared. I learned a week later that he tried to change himself for me, and ended up losing himself all together… Izuru… Izuru took over his body not long after, and soon, I fell in love with him, too," Komaeda explained.

Monaca paused, nodding along before asking her final question.

"Do you miss Hinata?"

Nagito rubbed at his dusty green eyes and nodded.

"I miss him so much. I miss him every single day of my life, I lost a man like him purely just because of a silly complex of mine. It is despair inducing, but there is not a day that goes by that I don't think about him. That is just how love is," he finished.

Both fell silent before Monaca reached out and touched his pale and dirty hand.

"I think I understand."

…

Monaca did not sleep that night, but eventually Hajime did.

Eventually, he must've passed out, because the screaming stopped. Monaca wheeled herself down to the second level to discover Hajime, drinking a cup of coffee and shaking at 6 AM.

She rolled up beside him, taking one of his hands into hers.

"Nagito loved you very much, does Hajime know that?" She said.

The brunette sniffled, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear as he turned to Monaca.

"How do you know?"

"When Monaca was a kid, you were all he ever talked about! He talked about how much he missed you, how much he regretted letting you go. There wasn't a day that went back where Nagito didn't think about Hinata. Whatever made him do this had nothing to do with Hinata. Hinata is a good husband and papa, he is Nagito's first love, and one of his few treasures."

A slight smile came to Hajime's face as he set his coffee down. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head.

"I'm… Going to bed. Thank you, Monaca."

Hajime left and a soft smile came to Monaca's face.

All will be okay. It has to be.

Just has to.

[noramachwitz]

Can you do a another Joham prompt please, for maybe a mix of two. 1. "You love me, right?" 2. Of your own choosing. (Anything emotional and I'm happy haha.)

Graham likes his daily routines, likes wakingup at the same time every day and likes going to bed at the same time as well.It’s why Joe doesn’t expect the lights at Home Farm to still be on when hecomes back after a late night in the village. He parks the car next to thedoor, sitting there for a moment and looking at the dimly lit up windows of theliving room. Joe wonders what he’s going to walk into or if he’s worrying overnothing. Either lets a current of worry run through him, ending in his fingers,because he hates not doing anything.

Locking the car behind him, Joe walks over tothe door, steps faster than they usually are, while fishing for his keys, thesound ringing through the night.

Joe unlocks the door, sees the lights paintingthe floor to his left and the darkness everywhere else, it’s silent in a waythat feels heavy and bothersome, the quiet before the storm, and Joe’s nerves standto attention because he still doesn’t know what to expect. Nothing is out ofplace, he can’t hear sounds that don’t belong here, everything smells like homeand Graham. It’s like it usually would be.

He takes one, two, three steps until he stopsin the door of the living room. Graham’s back is turned towards him. He’ssitting on the sofa, hunched over, looking at something that must be standingon the coffee table. Joe can’t see it from here.

“Graham?” Joe calls quietly as not to startlehim. Graham does neither flinch, nor turn around, just sits there still as astatue. Joe feels the pang of worry in his chest again, more urgent thanbefore.

With slow steps, Joe walks inside the room. Thecloser he gets the more he sees the storm brewing on Graham’s face. There’sthunder on the lines of his forehead, black clouds in his eyes. He’s as stillas cliffs against the angry sea and the tension inside him radiates all the wayto Joe. It feels like a kind of cold that Joe has never felt coming from Grahambefore. It scares Joe more than it would coming from anybody else.

Joe takes another step. His eyes break awayfrom Graham’s face and it’s then that he finally sees what Graham is staringat. A bottle of scotch. One of the expensive ones from the cabinet in theliving room, the ones that Joe has been saving for a special and happy occasion. Right now, the look on Graham’s face is a stark contrast to happy.

His first instinct is to grab the bottle andthe rest of the alcohol in the house and hide it or better yet throw it away,but he feels frozen, his feet glued to the floor, eyes on the amber liquid. Itsends Joe’s heart pounding.

It takes him a second to notice, but there’s no glass there and upon a short look Joe realises the bottle isn’t open but still sealed andfilled to the brim. There’s relief spreading in Joe’s chest but it only lastsfor the duration of a breath. With the next inhale the feeling is back.

Joe walks around the coffee table and sits downon top of it, looking at Graham and trying his hardest not to rip the bottleaway and take the choice not to drink out of Graham’s hands. Joe knows he can’tdo that. Instead he sits there, his right knee leaning against Graham’s,looking at his face and trying to figure out where Graham’s faraway look hastaken him.

“Graham?” Joe asks again, softly, and this timeGraham’s eyes flicker towards him. He looks surprised to see him which onlymakes Joe more worried.

“Are you alright?” Joe asks and even thoughhe’s talking s quietly it’s almost whispering it still feels too loud.

Graham looks away, then nods at the bottle infront of him. “Take it.”

It takes a second for Joe to register Graham’swords, but when they do, he takes the bottle, cold to the touch, and puts itdown on the floor next to his feet, out of sight but never out of mind. Hethinks of putting it away completely but he doesn’t particularly want to leaveGraham alone right now so he stays.

Joe listens as Graham inhales loudly and leansforward, resting his elbows on his knees, running his hands over his face,before once again staring at the table even though there’s nothing there tolook at.

“What’s wrong, Graham?”

The only answer that Joe gets is silence.

“Tell me,” Joe tries again. “Please.”

Graham raises one eyebrow and presses his lipstogether, then throws Joe a glance as if trying to judge if he should or not.Joe tries not to dwell on Graham’s hesitation. He understand it but doesn’tlike it.

“Megan,” Graham says, fingers swiping over hislips before he continues, “she’s pregnant. It might be mine.”

“Oh,” Joe says and immediately regrets it.

“Yes. Oh.”Graham shoots Joe a look that is close to angry.

Neither of them says anything for a moment andthe silence spreads, dense and deafening. It makes Joe want to chase it away. He’sat a loss as to how.

“But … that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Joesays. “You’re getting a second chance, Graham.”

“I don’t deserve a second chance.” Grahamsounds cold, surpassing angry almost. If he’s angry at himself or the situation,Joe has no idea.

Joe shakes his head. “Of course you do. Youdeserve -”

Before Joe really knows what’s happening,Graham’s right hand is fisting the collar of Joe’s shirt, pulling him closer.

“You should really stop weighing in on thingsyou don’t understand, Joe.”

They’re close enough that Joe can feel Graham’sbreath on his face and it’s paralyzing. He can’t remember seeing Graham thisangry before. His eyebrows are drawn together tightly, eyes darker than night,a vein clearly visible on Graham’s right temple.

“You better pray that kid isn’t mine. No childshould have me as a father.”

Joe swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbingagainst Graham’s fingers. It’s as if the movement has reminded Graham that he’sstill holding onto Joe and he lets go, his hand sinking slowly back to hisknee, not bothering to look apologetic. Joe doesn’t fault him for it. He openshis mouth again before he can change his mind.

“You’d be a good dad, Graham.”

“Joe, I’m warning you-“

“You love me, right? I’ve done terrible thingsin my life but you still love me.” Joe feels faint saying it, knows that hisvoice sounds more emotional than he’d like it to be, but he knows it’s trueeven if they’ve never actually acknowledged it. “You’ve been more of a dad tome than my own father ever was, Graham.”

Graham finally meets Joe’s eyes and there’ssomething new there under the anger. Joe’s not sure he can name it, but it’ssofter, warmer.

“You’re not exactly a ringing endorsement inany case.”

Joe can’t help but breathe a laugh. “Probablynot, no.”

Graham nods shortly and Joe thinks he might beseeing the beginnings of a smile hiding in the corner of Graham’s mouth.

“What are you gonna do now?”

Graham blinks slowly before he replies. “Notmuch I can do. Megan ordered a DNA test which is why she told me in the firstplace.”

“What if the baby is yours?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Graham-“

“No,” Graham says harshly. “I’m not made to bea dad, my dead daughter is enough proof of that.”

“But you’ve changed-“

“Joe, drop it. I mean it.”

He wants to argue further, wants to make Grahamsee sense, but the expression on Graham’s face is enough for Joe to know hedoes not stand a chance. “Alright. Okay, I’ll drop it.”

Graham exhales harshly, stands up and walks outof the room.

[drundertalescum]

while i really like your characterizations and writing for the most part, is it okay to ask what inspired goldfish? i saw it mentioned when you mentioned fishing fics a while ago and finally checked it out. it was kind of paralyzing, like you want to look away, you're getting kind of panicky and shit the more you see but can't look away, some of papyrus' thought processes in it resonated with me in really uncomfortable ways and i want to like your content but i'm very shaken up, don't know

Oh geez, Goldfish is a really harsh one. 

I think I’m going to put this answer under a cut since it’s discussing some pretty heavy stuff. It’s also got spoilers but that’s not really the main reason.

Goldfish is probably the worst thing I’ve ever written in terms of content. I probably won’t end up writing anything else that would top it. I honestly have trouble with even writing it for too long, which is why the updates are so stalled. 

And I’m gonna be honest, once it updates, I’d recommend skipping it if it had that much of an effect on you. It’s… not exactly going to get better. 

The fic was based on a prompt that I got, and that prompt pretty much laid out a lot of the plot on its own. It’s a dark scenario on a really dark AU, and so a lot of the legwork for me was to come up with why it would even be happening in the first place and the emotions behind it, both on Papyrus’s part and on Sans’s. The Bad Brother AU was created by @ask-the-great-papyrus​, but there wasn’t a comic yet beyond the introductory ones for the AU when I first started writing (it’s been a very stop and start fic to write), so a lot of the “why” or the details weren’t known to me when i planned it. 

What I knew going in and what this story is built on is this: what if everything was exactly the same, but Sans has absolutely no love for his brother?

Sans and his characterization are kind of the key to the story because of that, because he’s the one thing that’s changed in all of this, and every other difference is just reacting to that major change in the universe.

Goldfish’s Sans is not a good person. Not in any way, or any conceivable stretch of the imagination. Essentially, he’s Sans if he was lacking the characteristics that I see as Sans’s heart: all the good traits that balance him out. Not just his love for his brother, but his hope, and his compassion. He isn’t soulless, but his soul plays very little role.

I won’t say it’s a salt fic, but a lot of who Sans is in Goldfish is based on what I guess you’d call the logical conclusion of the more extreme fanon Sanses I’ve seen and read, as well as being a darker version of the traits he has in canon. When Sans’s characterization gets so skewed that he’s a walking red flag (selfish and violent and entitled and controlling), but because he’s Sans, the story will seem to excuse it or miss exactly how questionable his actions are. Or fics where Sans cares about his brother— but only seems to care because it’s his brother. Where his interest in Papyrus’s well-being seems to stop and to start at what he can do for Sans. Be happy, clean the house, be innocent, don’t feel anything negative… because that would bum Sans out. It isn’t about what’s good for Papyrus when it’s framed like that. It’s about what is good for Sans. It’s a fairly common characterization for a Sans will can remember resets, and no one else can, where his love for his brother stops looking like love and starts looking like a emotional crutch, or a pet. 

And the logical conclusion of that is a scenario where Sans doesn’t care about Papyrus on any level, only as a passing amusement. He’s not a beloved brother, and he’s not a loyal golden retriever. He’s just a goldfish: easily replaced and not particularly worthy of affection. 

And as for Papyrus: he’s been stripped of agency in this situation. Because of the resets, he doesn’t have the information he needs to fully know what his brother is really like, while Sans has all the foreknowledge, all the resources, and all the experience to manipulate Papyrus into whatever he wants, and what he wants is something to kill the unending boredom for a while. 

Papyrus’s thoughts and actions in the story are the result of being in what is, absolutely and without question, an abusive situation. And I want to be very clear on that: What is happening in Goldfish is abuse. Papyrus’s reactions and thought processes are the result of constant gaslighting, psychological abuse, and manipulation. 

While the plot is about Papyrus believing Sans might be trying to be better, Sans is not going to be better, and that’s clear from the start. Papyrus blames himself for the situation, and Sans blames him for a lot of things, but Sans is the one who chose to treat his brother as less than a person, and there is no coming back from that, even if he really were to change his mind. 

So, essentially Goldfish’s inspiration is basically a study of Sans (a Sans lacking his redeeming qualities) and a reaction to stories about resets that I feel open up unintended unfortunate implications but fail to explore them. 

Anyway, that’s some of my mindset behind Goldfish. It’s essentially a horror story, and none of what’s depicted in it is healthy or normal, any I really hope that’s clear.

I would, again, really suggest against continuing to read once I finally update it if it makes you too uncomfortable, or if it’s striking too close to home. For a few reasons, I don’t like the idea of pulling too many punches with this subject matter, and I don’t think the next part will end up being anything but worse in terms of dark emotions and content. 

There’s a lot more I could say about this fic, but I’d rather not ramble on too too much at 4am. 

I hope that’s what you were looking for, and if not, feel free to ask more!

[nichtsjutz]

social distancing but like... not the good and healthy kind

The first fuckin resolution my brain has ready when somebody makes me feel sad, angry, disappointed or basically any other negative emotion, is to immediately distance myself from them. Like... drastically and it has been that way as long as I can remember.

It feels like my brain desperately tries to avoid any kind of argument or difficult conversation on heavy topics that my thoughts are occupied with in that moment. I actually want nothing more than to solve the discussion or to soothe me and the other persons feelings, but instead of helping me do that, this lil noggin of mine goes straight into a literal paralyzed error mode when it tries to process what just happened.

I fucking hate it, I hate the thoughts that cross my mind in such moments, thoughts like „yeah just abandon this person, just cross them off your heart completely, actually, while we're at it, let's also abandon everyone else in your life too! wanna die alone? yeah sure, absolutely! why not simply move into a cave?"

All of that because I've been deeply hurt at some unknown point in my silly little childhood? Come on man, that sounds weak as shit.

I feel bad for regularly thinking those mean things, because in reality, I never wanna make another person feel bad aswell, just because they disappointed me or made me angry, rationally I just don't see the point of that. I am one of the most loyal people I know and I would never give up any kind of relationship because of some bullshit discussion. My brain just decided that this is the way to protect me against pain apparently. Now how stupid is that? It sucks. Ass.

If somebody negatively made me feel some kind of way, I just can't adress it, I don't feel the obligation to adress basically anything that made me feel bad.

Why? Idfk why, I can just guess...

...and my guess is, that I basically never thought my feelings were important to, or even heard by anyone who literally made me feel those things in the first place.

Trauma is waving from across the street, what a beautiful gesture! Hey there!

I just feel like my worth and loveliness drastically go down when I tell somebody that they hurt me, disappointed me, made me angry, made me sad, made me feel less important or anything else that probably wasn't their intention.

They do stuff that upsets me? Fine fine, completely fine. No problem, they probably just had a bad day, we can work it out and talk about it :)

I'm about to say stuff that might upset them too, hurts them or possibly even makes them cry during an arguement? Nah thank you Sir, I'll keep it to myself for the better, I'm not allowed to voice my frustration anyway :/

What kind of fucked up shit is this? Why the hell can't I just be normal?

The thought of distancing myself often starts a confusing, cold swirl, that slowly trickles down my spine and it ends up becoming a whole ass whirlpool in my tummy. A whirlpool of thoughts that doesn't even include making them out to be someone that just hurt me, but sure does always makes me the problem. The weird whirlpool thingy always tries to belittle me and my importance in anyone elses life. My own head tries to manipulate itself into thinking that it's better that way, better for them that I wanna distance myself, better for them to stay believing that they said or did nothing wrong, even when I'm the one being getting sad or being hurt. Because that's not what's important, right? I'm a burden anyways, I'm just too much of everything and holy hell then I also don't feel perfectly happy for one second? What a coward, their lives would be easier without me and my life would of course be easier with nobody in it.

I feel disgusted when I write down words like that, because I know that I shouldn't talk about myself that poorly and I know I'm like a precious bouquet of roses in some peoples lives. I know all of that, yet I still can't control my brain enough to not think those things anymore. My head is a weird place. Full of self love and also filled to the brim with self doubt and useless restrictions against myself.

Back to being somewhat rational, I think in reality I'm just used to get abandoned or being made fun of when vocalizing what just doesn't sit right with me and I'm constantly scared that it will happen again. Because if I'm honest, there's not much that I fear more in my life, than suddenly being dropped... and the only thing that caused exactly that to happen was vocalizing my sadness, my anger or my disappointment. So I started to abandon myself from peoples lives before they can do it themselves. To avoid getting hurt again.

That's probably the most stupid self defense mechanism my brain is acting on. Because not speaking up about what I feel, what I need or what I want, always makes it worse. And i mean fuckin' a l w a y s.

Sometimes emotions like sadness, anger and disappointment don't even feel like real emotions anymore, just swirls of anxious thoughts that come with it. Because the thought of hurting someone else with my anger, is so terrifying, that I'd rather convince myself to leave immediately than to just speak up for once or allowing myself to really feel all those things.

There's a fuck ton of work I need to do on that and I'm steadily improving at just fuckin telling people when something upsets me but this bullshitbrainmove is still hella yucky and also very f'in sucky. Needed to get that out somewhere.

keine pointe