#but im actually quite proud of where it ended up

[kazumasdiary]

that 2-3 cutscene, part iv: kazuma

(disclaimer: i wrote this when i had not finished 2-4 yet and knew nothing about 2-5. this is based off of the end of 2-3, the trial in 2-4, and parts of 2-4's second investigation phase. i'll come back to this later and see how much of it i stand by, in the end, but i was having too much fun writing this not to finish it up. so!)

oh boy. there’s a reason we left this one for last.

here is what happens to kazuma at the end of 2-3: he sees the face of his father again, made out to look like the monster and the murderer everyone believes him to have been. and in that moment, kazuma regains his memories of, among many many other things, ten years of grief, and pain, and rage. we hear him scream.

and less than two minutes later he is turning around with perfect composure and going “judicial assistant mikotoba . . . it's been a very long road.”

on some level, this makes sense. of course he feels much more composed after he gets his memories back, because he's finally remembered what he came here to do. he knows his end goal again, so of course he knows exactly what he’s doing. but even then- i’m pretty sure remembering hurt, and that is a hard emotional switch to make even when you’re not in pain. and not only that, but also he keeps that composure up well enough that susato and ryunosuke go with it, at least to the point where they don’t try and stop him.

and we see him shaken! he looks at the image of his father and we see him stumble over his words for a moment. we see him in shock. but then he steps forward, and everything he does in front of that waxwork feels too symbolic to be accidental. his reactions seem driven by narrative symbolism first and foremost: taking off the mask, “i’ve made it at last,” cutting the model in half, all of it feels intentional. kazuma’s a character in a story, so of course his actions here are going to be dramatic and meaningful to the narrative, but again- everything he does, especially with regards to his father, feels so deliberate. it feels performative.

but of course it feels performative. because kazuma’s been rehearsing for this moment for ten years.

he did not expect it to happen like this. he did not expect to lose his memories, or be apprenticed to barok, or even to end up as a prosecutor. but he's been working towards this for ten years, so once he remembers who he is, once he remembers what he came here to do, all of that planning kicks in. his behavior feels intentional because it is- he's the person doing what he needs to in order to avenge his father and achieve some semblance of justice, and he's been telling himself that story for ten years. of course his reactions feel like narrative symbolism, because that's what they are: they’re serving the story that he’s been living by. kazuma knows the truth, or at least he thinks he does, and all his actions take context in the place of that belief.

and there’s a moment, in this scene, right after ryunosuke says his name, where he turns towards ryunosuke and he almost looks- surprised.

i'm not sure if he realized ryunosuke was there, in that moment. he saw that bright path leading towards the one thing he'd been trying to do for ten years, and that was all he saw. for a moment, that is the only thing that matters to him, until ryunosuke says his name and he remembers: ryunosuke is here. susato is here.

i don't think he wants to hurt ryunosuke, or susato. he does, pretty badly (or at least enough for me to write over a thousand words of meta about it) but i don't think he wants to. i don't think he wants to hurt anybody but barok. in 2-4, he gets daley vigil on the stand and he drags daley’s memories out of him, knowing it will hurt, knowing it may very well break him, and doing it anyway. kazuma presses and presses and presses until daley collapses in the courtroom- and then later that day, he visits daley in the hospital, and apologizes.

i don't think he wants to hurt anybody. but i think he knows he will. in his own words,

But if it must be crushed, then so be it! Because the truth will not stay buried!

ryunosuke is his friend. susato is his sister. these are people he cares about, people he is grateful for, and he tells them that. but i think he knows, on some level, that what he's doing is going to cause them pain: they are going to see the pieces of himself that he has hidden from them all this time, and they will have to live with knowing that he’s been keeping secrets for as long as they’ve known him, and even with that he still can’t trust them with what he’s doing. he says “i'll be seeing you” and i don't think that's a kindness: the more he drags ryunosuke and susato into this, the more they are going to suffer.

but he has a job to do. and finally, finally all the pieces are in his hands. he’s going to put them into place, even if some of them break.

the thing is, in 2-3, kazuma should be in anguish. he just got his memories back, his whole identity even, and that is, generally, not the kind of thing you just shrug off. but if there's anyone who is in control of this entire interaction, from the moment it starts, it's kazuma. 

because he knows where this story is going. he knows where it has to go. and he is so, so sure. confidence has always been the shield kazuma hides behind, because it works: it means people don't see the anger, or the hurt, or the flaws. it makes people respect him- it means people listen to him. it worked on ryunosuke, and now more than ever, kazuma needs it.

but here's the catch: it's not enough. kazuma knows what he needs to do for what he believes is the truth, kazuma knows the role he’s given himself, and there are emotions that serve that role. anger serves his purpose. but sadness, pain, uncertainty- those do not. and he doesn't want them, doesn't need them here, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

when he holds his sword in front of his father, the point of it trembles.

that very well could be just because i'm looking too closely at the 3d models, but if it is intentional, then in that moment kazuma is shaking. and he gets through that, he cuts the model in half and sheathes his sword, and then he says exactly one more line of dialogue before he leaves. immediately.

it is eight days before ryunosuke sees him again. and i don't know what kazuma was doing during that time, or why he left london, but maybe it has something to do with the way he could not stay in that courtroom.

kazuma knows how to be angry. he has no idea how to be vulnerable.

but he doesn't get to pick and choose what he feels. he doesn't get to unilaterally decide how this affects him, and i think he's far more affected by this than he wants to admit. at the end of 2-3, he has control of the story, and even in 2-4, it still feels like he knows more about what's going on than ryunosuke- but ryunosuke knows he's wrong. he knows van zieks is innocent.

kazuma knows how this story has to go. but we know that story isn't the truth. and the more things spiral out of his control, the closer he comes to having to acknowledge that.

and i look at 2-5, and i’m almost afraid of what it'll do to him when he does.

(and thank you to both @ifidogaysomyself and @sparrow-senator for letting me dump this entire thing in their dms before i posted it.)

| susato | ryunosuke | barok |

[bunnybisexual]

i wish i was able bodied so i could take a dance class that would be so fun i think

[cuntdevil]

★ ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES.

you've made your way up the rankings and retired pro-hero, dynamite aka bakugo katsuki, couldn't be more proud.

( fic demographics. ) boku no hero academia, bakugo katsuki, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 7370 words.

╰┈➤ retired pro-hero!bakugo katsuki, sidekick turned pro-hero!reader (she/they), age gap (bakugo in his early to mid fifties/reader in their early thirties), alcoholic consumption, standing sixty-nine, playful banter, some bratty behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex (creampie), multiple orgasm, mating press, cum swallowing, slight slapping, dirty talk, etc.

( author's note. ) i realized that im a basic bitch and usually stick to the same kinks and positions in my smut and decided to change it up slightly. ended up having so much fun that im now currently in a bakugo rut and want him to do some very nasty shit to me.

Bakugo doesn’t quite remember when he started feeling so old. When did his hearing become so sensitive? Was it from the multiple times he had was an inch away from his own end— a ringing in his ear that was damn-near deafening? Or is it simply because he’s halfway to his sixties? When had his appetite become so bland? How come he can’t drink as much as he wants now that he’s retired from being a pro-hero? 

He thought the moment he finally received an actual break, things would get better, but he’s wishing to go back. Is there a type of quirk that’ll de-age him? It doesn’t have to last forever, just long enough where he can bask and reminisce in the feeling of being young and in his prime. Now he’s in his mid-fifties and he can’t move as freely as he wants to anymore. He was once a high-ranking hero working his ass off to be at the top and giving himself little time to enjoy it. Not that he could, danger was always a millisecond away. He got everything he ever wanted. He should be proud of it, and he is. He truly is, but God damn, sometimes does he have regrets. 

He’s still nursing this glass of whiskey that the bartender served him for ten minutes, sitting at the bar of a pristine place only open to pro-heros and sidekicks, active or retired. It’s a Thursday evening, a quiet night unlike its usual business. Bakugo’s always here on a Thursday, so much so that the moment he walks in, the bartender Akiri already has his drink waiting for him. Always cold and fresh, like it was served right in front of him. She has a weird quirk— everlasting ice— but it proves to be great in her line of business. 

The television is on and despite the music playing, he can hear the current news report. 

“This just in on Pro-Hero ranking, Spiderweb continues to climb the charts, their venomous webs seemingly seeping a new poison that makes every fall in love with her. Rumor has it that she’ll be the number one hero within the next month—”

Bakugo doesn’t hear your arrival, not hearing the jingle of the overhead bells the moment you walk in. He doesn’t even hear the moment you slide out the chair, its legs scraping against the tiled ground. You frown as his focus remains on the television, watching you when the real deal is right there. He really is getting rusty.

“You're losing your touch, Dynamite,” you slide on the stool, grabbing his drink right out of his hand the moment he falls out of his trance. “A villain could've walked right in and you would've been—” you snap your fingers. “—done for.”

He ignores your comment because he knows you're right. Can't argue that he still had the skills. He had some, but some wouldn't be enough. Instead he takes you, drinking you with his eyes. You're still in your hero suit that closely resembles everyday clothing to the regular eye, but Bakugo knows how you designed your hero fit, he helps you improve it after all. 

An ashy purple top that sucked you in, holding you in place. It had a dark gem-like pattern on it that people could mistake for rhinestones, but you were intricate with the design, using the same fluid you use to take down villains to help create the spider web pattern that runs down the top. Around your wrists, are smaller and more stylistic versions of his gauntlets, resembling bangles to help you store sweat. Similar to his quirk, you form the webs through your build up of yours with further additions. He remembered you explaining just exactly how your quirk works, but started to check out once it became too biological. 

Your black pants were baggy, helping with your own comfort as you had a fanny pack around your waist, holding them up. The boots you wore were another storage for your sweat, your clothes being a tool to absorb your bodily fluids, where you were able to experiment with yourself and further prove your usefulness. It definitely contrasted with your old sidekick uniform— a skimpy piece that you paid someone to have designed for you and you didn't have the heart to tell that you didn't like it. Considering that you're climbing the rankings now, he figures you've finally grown that backbone you used to lack when he first got you. 

“Well, if it isn't Spiderweb,” he turns in his seat to face you. It's apparent that he still works out, arms still bulging out, though he's gaining some chub in some places. But that scar on his face and his facial expression doesn't have you fooled, he's still rough around the edges. “I still prefer Deadly Spider, by the way.”

You roll your eyes with the tilt of your head as you scoff out sarcastically, “Of course, you do, Explosion Murder God— whatever it is.”

“Haha,” he feigns laughter, subconsciously scooting closer to you. “What're you doing here? Shouldn't you still be on patrol?”

“I'm not rumored to become number one for nothing,” you wink. I finished up early. Bakugo snorts. Finishing up early doesn't exist, and you know that. Hearing his snort, you stop the joking and become a little more serious. You technically weren't lying when you said you finished up early. “I was on a case for a while. I should still be out there, but I managed to crack shit down and I decided I needed to reward myself after a long day.”

He nods, bringing his glass to his lips finally. “You've gotten good,” he gestures to the screen.

“I had a good mentor,” you smile. He chuckles at that, “Damn right, ya did.”

You can't help but giggle as you slump in the chair. You can see him looking at you from the corner of his eyes, those vermillion eyes that used to always be set in a scowl now seem to be brighter. He lets out a breath as he downs the whiskey in one go. “‘m proud of ya, (Y/N). You're not disappointing me after all.”

“Have I ever?” You expect the answer to be yes. That there must've been times where you've disappointed him, especially in your early days of being a sidekick. A few UA graduates that had your tail between your legs and didn't know how you survived the lot of it. You made stupid mistakes and were chastised for it. Surely those were the moments where he was obviously disappointed in you, right? 

There's a long pause before he's shaking his head, beckoning the bartender over and asking for two more glasses. The bartender is quick, placing one in front of you and Bakugo. You're not a drinker, but you take a few sips from it. “Nah. Always knew I passed the torch to the right person.”

You snort, calling his blasphemy. “You're lying to me to make me feel good. What about that time I dropped that serum?”

“It was your first big case with me as a fresh graduate,” he remembered that day vividly. It was a month in of you being his sidekick. You were used to being by his side during patrols and smaller cases. He didn't expect to have you thrown in something like that so soon. He wanted to leave you behind, but others thought otherwise and in a rare moment, he didn't follow his intuition. “You were bound to fuck up after being thrown in with the wolves.”

Your eyes widen at his nonchalance, but they become serious in an effort to prove him wrong. Why would you want to? Bakugo can't understand as you start relaying moments where you messed up, whether it was a small accident or a huge fuckup. Stubborn as an ass, Bakugo still upholds his position. “Quit it, won'tcha? If I thought y’er a disappointment, you'd’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“Well,” you start to tear up. “That's refreshing to hear after all.”

“Now, don't make me change my mind!” He knows you all too well, seeing how the corner of your eyes start to water. “Here I thought ya finally grew a backbone, but y’still cry like a baby.”

“What?” You exclaim, not denying his claims. “I've never cried in front of you. How'd you even know?”

“Y’always were on the verge of tears, honey,” he smirks. “It wasn't hard to miss.”

The way honey fell from his lips with ease. His raspy voice sent something straight through you that it was hard to keep your composure. You're starting to remember your younger years where you'd ogle him, all while trying to not cry from him yelling at you. Despite how rough he seemed back then, you had developed a crush that you thought you grew out of. But, here you are, falling back into old ways. 

If Bakugo notices a shift, he doesn't mention it. Instead, swiveling back around to stare at God knows what. You clear your throat, taking a huge gulp of the whiskey. Your throat burns as you quickly question why Bakugo seems to like it so much. “I'm getting better though. At hiding my tears, and I do have a backbone, by the way. Just took me a while to find it, but it's all intact.”

“Good to know,” Bakugo says, dismissively, the atmosphere changing. You try to say something else, but you can't find anything to talk about anymore, despite your mind running with lots of stuff. You remembered a month into Bakugo's retirement that he started coming to Sakura's Blossom— the bar you're in now. A popular place for heroes to relax, somewhere Bakugo used to always avoid as a hero, becoming a favorite for him. When he pushed you to become a hero, your early days were close in its vicinity. You'd always see him walk in, but he's never seen you. It became a regular for him to come in on Thursdays, making it easy for you to find him.

You've always wanted to run after him, tell him how much you're grateful for his endorsement and that you'll make him proud. Because in the midst of it all, you had forgotten to and it was slowly eating at you. You had been raised to always give gratitude and you couldn't even thank the man that put you where you are today. But now, your throat is dry and you still can't. 

You can. You. Can. You can—

Bakugo pushes out against the chair, standing up as he pays for the bill— for both yours and his drinks. He nods towards the bartender before looking down at a speechless you. “Good night, Spiderweb.”

You should've said it then, but you don't. “Good night, Dynamite.”

—

You managed to change your schedule, so that you have Thursday nights free, managing to find another hero willing to switch with you. You start making regular appearances when Bakugo's there, and when he asks, you always lie. Though, you know that he knows you're lying. However, he never says your word. Simply just enjoying your company. 

You missed him, missed having him around. And he realizes that he's missed you. When he first became a pro-hero and as he grew comfortable in this dangerous career, he flew solo. Did everything on his own and didn't want a shadow that wasn't his own following him around. However, as he grew in age and realized that a second hand wouldn't hurt, he hired you to help make things easier for him. 

At first, you were a mere pain in the ass. Like you had said, you had messed up countless times and God, was he close to firing you at plenty of points in time. But, something was hindering him from doing so. He just couldn't do it. So, he kept you and trained you to be who you needed to be— helped shape yourself into someone he was proud of, as well as yourself. Sometimes when you'd seek his advice, your voice would get soft and he’d be reminded of that young woman you once were, but you've grown so much. You still might not believe him, but damn is he proud of you.

“Breaking News! Spiderweb has found themself in a web of her own. An elaborate plan on her part turned against her as a villain gives her a taste of her own medicine. Luckily, other pro-heros within her vicinity were able to help rescue them, but she was gravely injured and was brought to the hospital. Reporters have yet to hear about their condition—

Bakugo doesn't think twice before he's springing from his seat, dropping some cash and heading in your direction. He should've known from the moment that you were ten minutes late than when you usually drop in to chat that something was up. “Fuck,” he curses, climbing into his vehicle and speeding in your direction. If he's got it right, he knows exactly where you've been taken. 

You've been in and out of consciousness the moment an IV has been shoved in your veins from the joint of your arms and biceps. You were in an immense amount of pain, nearly every part of your body aching. When you squint your eyes open, you're greeted with white and you know you're in the hospital. It should be a relief, you're alive, but you feel the tears building up. You've failed. And you have before, but this time it's different. 

In the midst of finding your groove and truly feeling like yourself, you've been forced flat on your back and lost the upper hand, having to depend on others to rescue you instead of doing the rescuing. You were careless, wreckless, a disappoint—

“Where is she?” You recognize that voice. That gruff and raspy voice. It doesn't help soothe the pain, only making it worse as you begin to sob. The machine you're hooked up to starts beeping erratically. 

“Sir, we need you to calm down. She's just starting to become stable. She's in good hands—”

“Then why won't you let me see her?” Bakugo slams his fist into the desk. “She's not in surgery, is she?”

“No, but…” It goes silent from there, hearing a slew of voices and footsteps rushing towards you before Bakugo follows. “That's her! Let me see—”

“Sir, if you do not calm down, we won't have a choice in having you removed!”

You don't remember much from that point on, knowing that Bakugo didn't go down without a fight and probably finding some sort of loophole into seeing you again. When you open your eyes once more, you're more stable and not in and out of sleep. You're still in pain, but feeling slightly better. 

“Yer up,” a deep voice booms, filled with exhaustion as a huge yawn leaves Bakugo's mouth. “‘Bout damn time.”

You should be happy that he stayed to make sure you're in a stable condition and that he cares for you, but you aren't. Only reminded of your mistake. “You—you should go.”

You end up croaking and stammering on your words, but he makes out what you say and scoffs. “What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout? Didn't come rushin’ here and fight off a guard just to be told to leave.” 

“Dynamite—”

“Bakugo—”

“Dynamite,” you pause, expecting him to rebuttal, but he doesn't. “Please, I don't have the strength. And, I don't want you seeing me like this.”

“Seeing you like how?”

“Vulnerable.”

He snorts, crossing his arms as he stands over you by the bed. His big arms bulge as he doesn't take you seriously for a second. “Don't give me that shit. I'm stayin’.”

You don't even know why you tried arguing with a stubborn ass like him. You should've known it was pointless. He always seems to get his way, so instead. You do what you do best. Cry. 

And it's worse than he can ever imagine. You're in full-blown tears, sobbing heavily that your eyes will be bloodshot red by the end of it. He doesn't know what to do or what to say to get you to stop, leaving him speechless as he can do nothing but stand there. Why don't you want him there so bad?

“I… I failed you,” you finally sob out, clenching your fists as they crack. Your nails dig into your skin as you force your body to turn away from him.

“What are you talking about?” Bakugo asks, incredulous. “Failed me, how?”

“I got too ahead of myself,” you further explain. “Thought I could take that villain on my own, only to get a taste of my own medicine.”

Is this what this is about? Why you were in such a haste to kick him out of your hospital room? 

His uncontrollable laughter catches you off guard, having you spinning your head to look at him so hard that it hurts. “W-why are you laughing? It's not funny!” 

“Oh, honey.” There he goes, calling you honey in your horrible predicament. “But it is!”

His laughter dies down not too shortly after, a hand instinctively reaching to caress you, pushing away your braids that nurses lazily put in a ponytail. “It was bound to happen. You climb up the ranks, get a little cocky and then God strikes ya down. Happens to us all.”

“You make my near-death experience sound like it's normal,” you mumble.

“It is,” he points out. “For people like us. It's what we signed up for— it's what you signed up. Be grateful you're alive. From what I'm hearing, you'll make a great recovery. If Recovery Girl was working here, you'd have been out of here quicker than this.”

“I thought you were going to chastise me,” you admit. “It's what I wanted— what I needed.”

“If ya wanted it so much, you wouldn't’ve tried kicking me out.”

“Mmm, maybe you're right,” you give up. “You should still, though.”

His eyes grow dark in a teasing fashion, looking down at you. “And give ya what you want so easily? Not a fat chance.”

—

As Bakugo had said you would, you make a speedy recovery, getting back on your toes in no time. You take his advice, taking it easy and to not make the mistakes he made earlier on in going solo. Your ranking has dropped a few, having to live with the next month or so with people ridiculing and noting how you got full of yourself. They were right, you did, and you'll learn to be better— to accept help and ask for it. Being a pro-hero isn't a one-man gig, after all. 

You still have your Thursday nights free to spend them with Bakugo. Your accident seems to bring the two of you incredibly closer, and to the few onlooking pros that saunter inside, it's too close. You scrunch up your nose in laughter. You slap at his chest in your fit of giggles as his arms instinctively wrap around your waist and pull you closer, your head falling to his chest. You're laughing so hard that it's hard to breathe and you're nearly choking. “Woah there, honey. ‘M not that funny.”

You stop laughing, expression turning serious in a millisecond that it's nearly concerning until your voice is barely above a whisper, “Stop calling me honey. I don't think you're aware of what it does to me.”

For a moment, Bakugo’s eyes widen at your openness before they share the same darkness that yours have been growing. “I wasn't, but now that I am, I think I'll just abuse that little info.”

— 

Maybe Bakugo’s alright with this period in his life after all. Being able to say that he's an experienced man, where despite his long days of pro-hero work, he's managed to keep his dick wet through it all. It means he knows how to please someone of your caliber. 

He's a big man, despite the pudge that's grown on him. He can't workout as much as he used to, but picking you up? You're light as a feather. 

The moment he got you through his front door, he couldn't wait any longer. He needed you in a way he's never felt with any other woman. The taste of your lips don't compare to the plenty of one night stands he's had. He's got you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as he pushes you against the door. The tent in his pants continues to form, rubbing against you as slick sticks to the crotch of your panties. 

“Fuck,” he curses deliriously, pulling away from the kiss with a hiss. His eyes are low and hazy, filled with wanton lust. “Bet ya taste so good. Been wanting to try ya for a while.”

“Oh really?” You giggle, eyes sparkling in interest. You buck your hips into him, feeling his cock against your core. He's pulling at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of this damned hero costume. “Since when?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs with a pant. With the top of your suit gone, you do him the favor of kicking off your pants. Leaving you nearly bare and for him ogle. His eyes are glued to your chest, getting rid of your bra next to play with your dark and pert nipples. Your breasts are perky, ready to be sucked on. He takes a nipple in his mouth before remembering what else he wanted to say. “Since ya started stalking me at the bar.”

“Wait,” despite the sexual situation you find yourself in, your eyes widen at the sheer fear that he knew that you had watched him. That he had known the small fact that you had memorized his scheduled visits to Sakura's Blossom. You push against his chest, pulling him away from your breasts. “You knew that I knew all this time?” 

“Feel like we're no longer on the same page here,” he furrowed his eyebrows to clarify, fingers trailing to pinch at your nipples. “But since ya started yer regular visits.”

“Oh,” your breath of relief turns into a whine when he twists rather harshly. 

“Y’were watching me from before?” His gaze becomes stern in a teasing manner, moreso like he's bemused by the fact. 

“Used to patrol right next to Sakura's,” you shamelessly admit, gnawing on your bottom lip as you start to grind against his cock. It has him remembering why you're here, what he wants to do to you. “A hot spot for pro-heros— a villain's bound to hit some day.”

“Oh, shut up already,” he finally huffs out. 

“You're the one asking the—” You squeal as Bakugo flips you upside down, feeling his nose press into your mound. He takes a deep inhale that you can feel. His hold on you gets tight, a visceral grip that will have your sides aching by the morning. “Oh, gosh! Dynamite!”

Your damn dedication to calling him his hero name pisses him off, especially in a position like this. “Don't call me Dynamite when I'm tryna eat yer pussy.” The slap to your ass echos the room, you swallowing a breath of air in your shock. “It's Bakugo or Katsuki from this point on, got it?”

He slaps your ass again at your silence. “Ya got it?”

“Fuck,” you finally mewl out. “Yes, Bakugo.”

His cock twitches, loving the way you say his last name. He smirks. “I'll make sure that I have it engraved in your head when I'm done with you.”

“Didn't you tell me to shut up alr— oh…” 

You feel his tongue against your covered mound, pressing into the fabric before the sound of sucking. He can taste you through it. He can taste your juices through the cotton of your panties with no shame at all. His eyes flutter shut as he feels your hands reach for his hips and dig your nails into him. They go through his shirt and into his skin as you can't help but roll your pelvis into him. 

You can feel the blood rush to your head, but fuck are you enjoying this. His desperation to taste you at his front door, not bothering to get you down on a bed. More juices pool from you as you gain more stability in this position, bucking your hips up to his mouth as you feel his teeth graze your skin, catching the hem of your panties and tugging it to the side. The cold conditioned air that breathes down on your core is brutal and in the darkness, Bakugo can see your pussy shine in its wetness. “Shit, I’ve gotcha all to myself, don't I? You're just mine for the taking.”

Your hands traverse to his bottoms, unzipping it as you nod. “‘m all yours, Bakugo.”

You pull down his pants as best as you can, palming his cock through his underwear and hearing a slew of curse words fall from his lips. “Yer gonna be the death of me.”

Finally do you reach in his pants, pulling out his cock. He's been losing a lot of things due to age lately, and he's grateful that an erection isn't on the list yet. Hard and prominent and all for you, he can only see so much, trying to get a good look at your face from the position, but it's hopeless, he can only feel how good you are. With one hand, he uses it to wrap around your waist tightly before using the other to rub two fingers between your folds, hissing when he feels your tongue against his tip. He spreads your slick down your pussy, making your lips all messy of yourself while he tries to remain steady as you take him in.

You can't help but moan, feeling yourself pulsate at the idea of sucking Bakugo off. How the sheer thought of it makes your pussy pool with heat. Legs wrapped around his head, you yearn for more than just his fingers as they dance around your entrance, his middle and index digits a mess. Your heart races as your tongue swirls around his tip, tasting his precum against your lips. You salivate, letting your spit lubricate his cock as you use a hand to hold it up. You shuffle to get your tongue at the base, the tip of it touching the juncture of where his cock and balls meet. You feel a vein just right there and it seems to be a sensitive spot for dear old Bakugo, causing him to shudder the moment you touch it. 

“Keep doing that n’ I'm gonna cum like a little boy,” he warns you. And you were going to keep at it and play the part of a dirty little vixen until you feel his wet muscle at the center of your nectarine. Lips around your clit, Bakugo groans around it, tasting you from the fruit itself. It surely keeps you occupied as you momentarily lose focus. You grip around his base, squeezing it and causing his fingers to dig deep into you. Whimpering at the pain, it jolts you out of your haze as you bring his cock to your lips. It's a ravenous torture between the two of you, trying to bask in your pleasure while trying to grant the other some as well. 

Still, you mewl and moan around his length, eyes sparkling in delight as you swallow his shaft. Cheeks hollowing as his pink, cut top rests on your tastebuds. Pre continues to leak from him, a translucent mess that slides down with ease. He feels so good inside your mouth, and you can feel his legs flexing and contracting at what you're administrating. A true, dirty vixen you are.

But, Bakugo's no better to you. Lapping at your pussy like a starved man, both of you are so eager to give to each other. He tastes the intricacies of your pussy, mapping it out with his tongue as his grip around your waist tightens and his free hand is back to join the party. A thumb pressing down on your clit, building up pressure and has your legs tightening around his head. Around his length, your moans become more high-pitched at the overstimulation, feeling your legs tense then untense. 

Your face is a mess, saliva dripping down to your forehead due to this upside down state. Your head beginning to hurt but you don't have the heart to tell Bakugo to stop because you don't want to. It's bound for him to change positions soon, but gosh, you want to delve in this a little longer. You continue to bob your head, the wet sounds mixing with your slurps further sounding the room. You become daring, letting go of your other hand around him and putting all of your faith into Bakugo. Your upper body dangling upside down as your other free hand travels to cup his balls, shortly remembering that spot he oh-so warned you about. 

You fondle them, greeted back to that jerk of his leg as his waist’s now pressed to the door. He momentarily pulls off of you to curse, “Shit.”

However, he never corrected you or tried to get you to stop, simply speeding up his attack on your clit to receive a close response as well. It works, but you remain focus as your mouth is off him for a second as you stroke his length, finally taking in just how big he is and how you truly weren't able to fit all of him in. All this time, working with an aged cock that could destroy you. It has you whimpering out to yourself at the anticipation of your pussy being stretched out by him. His cock glistens even with such a lack of light, your spit being the work of that. Your strokes are quick and languid, mirroring his reign on your clit, causing your hips to jerk and twitch every so often. 

Your actions falter every once in a while, but you're so determined. You're always so determined, that's what Bakugo adores about you. Even as a sidekick that often fucked up, you had your own way of showing it. You were just like him in a way, stubborn as a mule to get what you want. You just needed to learn how not to give in to people when they bite harder. And here he is, gently nibbling down on your folds, but you refuse to back down, determined to make him come undone. 

You fondle his balls, adjusting his cock up, going to that dangerous place that he warned about. A chaste kiss before your lips are fully around it and you're suckling on one of his sacs. In this position, you can truly get a good whiff of him. There's a musk, but don't be mistaken, he's sure to clean himself. It's not overpowering as you can still smell the minty hint of whatever brand of bar soap he's using. The combination has your senses going to overdrive as your legs tighten immensely around him for a moment. 

That typical clench of your stomach goes ignored as you're determined to make Bakugo release. You're unforgiving and relentless, stroking his cock as mouth tries to fit his second sac of balls in. Your moan has become a melody to his ears as his head hits the door and he tries to remain focused on your pussy. She's so damn close, he grunts to himself. Don't give into her just yet. However, it's easier said than done when he feels his cock twitching in your hold and he moans. Sending vibrations straight to your core, your achievement and his response is enough for that band in your stomach to finally snap as he lets go. 

You both gift each other your essence. You, you're the forbidden nectar in the garden of Eden, your juices so natural that it tastes sweet. There's a tang to it that has him quickly intoxicated as he finds himself addicted. Him, he's like a refreshing taste of cold water on a hot summer day. You're feeling nothing but delight when his white cum shoots down your throat and you have no choice but to swallow everything— you wouldn't dare spit anything out. 

You both need a breather to come back to the present. You're still stuck in this now painful position as your head comes to throb and you have to croak out Bakugo's name to remind him. Slowly but surely does he get you back on the right side up before finally taking a step away from the door. His legs work like muscle memory as his lips plant on yours, swallowing away the pain as he makes a beeline for his bedroom. Pushing open the door and not bothering to have it shut, he hurries to put you down on the bed. He still has you in his arms when he does, grinding his still hardened length against your pussy. All traces of your release disappeared on his tongue, but you can still taste the remnants of yourself, as you both can taste each other. 

Now that you're on a bed, you feel yourself slowly checking out as the pain is slowly alleviated by your comfort. Bakugo mutters some stuff that you couldn't care less about, only mewling and nodding in agreement until you feel his hand grab your face, squeezing your cheeks. It's hard to focus on him, to stare right back into his eyes. 

“Awww,” he coos. “Is it all too much for my baby?” He noticed your disorientation immediately, planting a chaste kiss on your lips as his eyebrows knit with concern. “She doesn't want to stop, does she?”

Immediately comprehending that, you shake your head. “Mmm, no,” you squeak out. However, Bakugo's lips drop to your ears, whispering out, “are ya sure? We can always—”

“Yes— yes, I'm sure,” you persist. “I need you, Bakugo. Would you not help a woman in need?”

He doesn't like the way you stammered out that yes, still peering down at you. However, your eyes have significantly steadied now and that same brand of determination is back on your face to finally convince him. He finally caves with a barely audible ‘okay.’ He dives down to meet you for another kiss, hands roaming to grip your legs. So focused on the kiss, you're taken aback when he hikes on leg up, your knee touching your shoulder. His cock is perfectly slotted in between your folds before he does the same with your other leg. 

“Bakugo,” you groan at this change of position. He claims that you'll be the death of him, but you beg to differ. Your soiled panties are still on you, which Bakugo is sure to get rid of in a hurried haste, pulling so hard at it that it rips. You gasp, calling out his name once more, but he dismisses your complaint. “You'll be fine.”

You feel so exposed with your body pressed like this, in the dark with Bakugo looming over you. His cock slides in between your folds, wet sounds running through the air. You don't know what he's waiting for, so you do the work for him, wanting him to ravish you just as much as he does. That familiar grip returns to his cock and before you can press his head to your entrance, he slaps your hand away. You whine in protest, but he pushes you. “Have some patience, honey. Good things take time.”

The return of that damn nickname he's given you. Once used sarcastically, now one that he's going to use to his advantage because of you— all because you couldn’t keep in your attraction for him anymore. You should be grateful for it. It's landed up in this position, but now he always has the upperhand over you, knowing just how to make you cave. 

You clench around nothing, feeling his shaft go in a back and forth rhythm as it barely presses down on your clit how you want it to. You whine nonetheless, hoping that Bakugo will pity your desperation and give in. “Bakugo, please… I need you in me. Need to know how you feel.”

One hand comes to grab your face roughly, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips pucker up. “Oh, is that right? You need to know how I feel inside you? Or what, hm?” He challenges. “Ya gonna die without knowing.”

You nod, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. “I just might.”

He can't help but chuckle at that. “Yer cryin’, again? Yer tears don't work on me anymore, honey. They just egg me on. Love to see ‘em now. Know that I've got ya all desperate for me.”

“Don't care,” you mewl. “I want you inside me.”

He keeps up at it, gliding his cock between your folds and letting his shaft collect your juices. You're so fucking wet for him that all he wants to do is bury himself deep inside you and finish, but he practices what he preaches and holds himself back. “Is this how you are with all the men you sleep with? Such a whiny baby. Rumored to be the next number one hero, a crybaby for cock?”

He taunts and teases you, pushing out his bottom lip as he tuts. “It's almost cute.”

From all your whining and desperate begging, you don't realize that Bakugo’s now slotted the tip of his cock at your entrance. It's not until his head is inside and he's deep inside you that you fully register his intrusion, a loud sob coming from your lips as he stretches you out. But just as quick as you were shocked, moans slip easily from your mouth as you drag out just how you're feeling. 

Watching you—watching how your eyes are blazed with a fire that's filled with wanton lust. He's never seen it with everyone else and he quickly realized that you've gotten him under your spell and he's so deep in it that he doesn't want to retract. It's as though you're a succubus, a demon that feeds off of lust, with the way the corner of your lips turn upwards in a smile. Your hands come to wrap around his neck and Bakugo puts all his weight on you, causing him to go deeper in you. 

You feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix, pain mixing in with pleasure. Your back’s barely able to arch against the bed under Bakugo’s heavy weight, but your nails digging into the nape of his neck is enough to communicate just how you feel. As do your words.

“Ba— Katsuki, you feel so good,” that sudden shift from his last to his first name nearly has him cumming inside you too early. The creaking of the bed halts for a moment as his crimson red eyes look deep into yours. With his stillness, it makes you focus on the length that's against your walls, stretching you out. “Yeah, I think I prefer you calling me Katsuki better. Be a good girl and keep at it, will ya?”

It sounds like a request, but in this position, you know it’s a command. You don’t have a chance to respond, not that you were going to. He’s thrusting into you once more, but this pace is more brutal than before as he sits up and drills into your pussy without any remorse. He pushes down on your legs, making them ache as they press against your breast, making them more accentuated. Your moans become more high-pitched as you cry out his name— his first name. 

“That’s it,” he grins, maniacally. “Call my name out like the dirty little slut you are. Let my neighbors know who’s making you feel this good.”

One of your hands drag to cling to his bicep, making marks in a matter of seconds as your juices spill out of you. You’ve never had anyone else make you feel the way that Bakugo does. How he easily takes control and dominates you. With him, he lets you know that while you run the streets of Tokyo, Japan, you’ll always be underneath him. The stinging pain that runs through your lower body is delicious and while you know you’ll bear the consequences in the morning, you bask in the pleasure it secretes now. 

In this moment, you become delirious as your imagination becomes active as you can see a future with Bakugo, but is that what he wants? Hands back on his neck, you tug him down to you. “Katsuki… need you.”

“You’ve already got me, honey,” Bakugo kisses the corner of your lips, pace slowing by a pinch. “What more do you need?”

“Kiss me,” you whisper, eyes becoming glossy with wanton need. Something snaps within the both of you, a sudden shift that changes the trajectory of your relationship with him forever. Time stops for a moment before his lips are on you— lust turning into something more, something fatal. No longer is he pistoning inside you to oblivion, but holding you with more care. Precise thrusts that still get the work done to having you call out his name without a care in the world. 

He’s hitting that special spot inside of you, memorizing the sounds you make just for him. That familiar coil comes back and you bring Bakugo closer to you. “G’nna cum. Please make me cum, Katsuki.”

“Anything for you, honey.” He helps you ride out your orgasm, slowing down as he brings your legs to finally lay on the bed. Not too long after does he empty himself inside you, painting your insides white before pulling out completely. He makes eye contact with you. This. This is the perfect time, your mind tells you. 

Getting your breath steady, you peer up at him. “I never did thank you, y’know.”

“For what?” he grunts, sitting up on the bed, completely towering over you as you stay in place. Climbing over you, he’s reaching for something. Shortly after, he tosses you a water bottle that you catch with ease. 

“Just…” you sigh. “For everything.” 

—

FIVE MONTHS LATER 

"Spiderweb has had such a spectacular come up. From working under retired pro-hero, Dynamite, as a sidekick to being endorsed into a hero. She’s climbed the roster faster than anyone else has and while she had her stumbling moments, she came back to kick butt and prove to Japan that she is the hero they need!"

"We’ve managed to get a video with the pro-hero themself about the announcement of her current hero ranking—" Shortly, they pull up separate footage of a next reporter before it shows you.

“Spiderweb, please tell us how it feels to currently be the number one hero of Japan!”

The camera pans to you, your eyes lighting up in delight. You’re panting heavily standing outside in the hot sun, evidently just finishing a case. You have to catch your breath before your attention is fully turned to the camera. “It feels… It feels unbelievable, y’know? I mean, I’ve heard the rumors about it, but for it to actually come true? It’s only been a couple years into becoming a pro-hero and it feels like it’s something I don’t deserve, but I know for sure that I’ve worked my ass off— sorry for the language, kids!

“I’m just really grateful,” you continue your rambling. “I’m really grateful for everyone who believed in me and put their faith in me, especially my old mentor, the man that endorsed me himself. Dynamite, if you’re watching this! I know I’ve already told you this already, but thank you! I couldn’t have gotten here without you. I love— I mean, I’m forever in your favor.”

It’s a Thursday night and he’s not at the bar this time. Instead, he’s at his place, getting ready to head to yours. He’s lucky he kept the television on to hear you say that. He’ll certainly tease you later for it, but now, a sense of pride washes over him.  “That’s my girl.”

( author's note. ) this was only supposed to be 5k words, but gosh i had so much fun writing this. you guys have no clue.

[sinswithpleasure]

Bucket List Interlude — Five.Six [Queen & Princess]

—-----------—

Proud to release my second (technically first, but our actual second released first) collab with @co-reborn set in the Bucket List universe.

Enjoy this (mostly unedited) little gift before NNN.

—-----------—

[Im Squirtle has sent a message:]

Oi, Pervert.

Let's try something new later on.

I know you’ll like it too

Head to the audi after your class ends

Come over quick :)

—-------

You keep your books in the locker once you’re done for the day. With these types of Nayeon texts, you know you're definitely not studying for the next few hours. 

You shuffle past the crowd of students heading to their next class as you make your way to the auditorium. There shouldn’t be anyone using it at this hour, so why would she ask you…?

With the door to the auditorium right in front of you, you reach for the handle. The door swings open smoothly, and as expected, it is empty, lights off. You step in and place your bag onto one of the chairs, before grabbing your phone from your pocket. 

[To: Im Squirtle]

I'm here, where ar |

In the middle of typing your message, the lights switch on. First, the room is dimly lit, but it begins to brighten slowly. You look around, and that's when you spot Nayeon at the bottom, on the stage. You scan her outfit—open blouse paired with a bright pink crop top, hearts and lines and other designs printed on the cloth,  coupled with jeans, deliberately left open and rolled around her waist. Cute pigtails, by far your favourite style on her, steel rimmed glasses perched atop her nose, and a loose tie hanging around her neck.

She looks like a star. Maybe in another world…

"Yah, Pervert!" Nayeon waves enthusiastically, the brightest grin across her ethereal features. Even at the bottom of the auditorium, you're blown away by her beauty. Not that it's a surprise any more, but her beauty is definitely one of a kind. 

"Say hi to our junior!"

Behind her, another girl steps out. You wonder how you haven't noticed her hiding behind Nayeon.

"Eh, Shin Yuna?"

Shin Yuna—the next Queen of Seoul U, currently nicknamed "Princess". You've seen her around a lot—it's quite hard not to notice the other beauty of Seoul U. Nayeon is easily #1, but Yuna's a damned close second, and she'll ascend the ranking once Nayeon graduates, you're sure of it. 

"Hi, Oppa."

"Come down! Come say hi!"

You oblige, and take quick steps down. At the bottom, you awkwardly nod towards the younger girl, causing Nayeon to giggle. She steps closer to her "successor" and lightly grabs her shoulders. 

Peeking from the side, she asks, “What do you think of her?”

You gulp. You can’t deny Yuna’s beauty. “Yeah… she’s pretty.”

Nayeon then steps behind Yuna before running her hands over her chest. The younger girl visibly tenses up, even more so when Nayeon begins to pop open the buttons on her blouse. 

“I, for one, think she’s beautiful.” 

The white top is pulled open, Yuna's bare breasts now exposed for your viewing pleasure. Nayeon lightly kneads the soft flesh of Yuna’s breasts, eliciting light gasps from her. Her hands continue to move down Yuna’s body down to her hips, halting at her tight abs to run circles atop the defined muscles. 

"She's got such a perfect body, doesn't she?"

Nayeon gives Yuna a soft kiss on the cheek, before she licks a long stripe from the younger's shoulder up to her left ear. Reaching her skirt, Nayeon undoes the clasp and zipper at the back, a small push all it needs for the cloth to fall down her long legs, leaving the girl in white panties. You stare at the big damp spot right at the crotch of her underwear, and you gulp as your cock twitches beneath your pants.

"Go on, tell Oppa what we're doing today."

Nayeon's hands roam Yuna's body again. Her fingers ghost over the younger's smooth milky skin again, paying special attention to her nipples. 

"Ngh…"

"Come on, Yuna-ya~"

Nayeon's fingers softly knead the soft flesh of Yuna's nubile body, her fingers expertly drawing the primal lust out of Yuna. You can't help but watch as Nayeon literally plays with the new toy in her hands, Yuna having all but submitted willingly to her senior. 

"Oppa…"

Yuna's call dripped pure sex. You couldn't help the rush of primal lust at her moan, and as Nayeon slides her fingers underneath the waistband of Yuna's panties, you wish you were the one in Nayeon's place instead.

"Mmh, Daddy, she's so wet, oh my God."

Yuna's loud moan paired with the buck of her hips is all you need to know that Nayeon has penetrated her with her long fingers.

"Yuna-ya, go on, tell Oppa what you're here for."

"Oppa… mmgh—I…"

"I…?" Nayeon prompts.

"I'm—ohGod—I'm here to, fuck, I'm here to…"

Yuna shudders, her words temporarily halted by the waves of pleasure that wrecks her body with Nayeon's fingers deep in her. 

"Oppa, I'm here to have sex, Oppa, I'm here to have sex with you and Nayeon-unnie, please… please take care of me, please…"

"That's right Daddy, Yuna's here to join us today."

Nayeon withdraws her fingers from Yuna, who moans at the loss of contact. Her fingers are drenched—not one inch of her middle and ring fingers, as well as the surrounding skin, is dry. Strands of slick cling to Nayeon's skin as she plays around with it, and she giggles. 

"Ehe, Yuna-ya, you're so wet…"

She holds her fingers in front of the younger bunny's lips. Yuna takes it in without any hesitation, tasting her own pussy off her unnie's fingers.

"Good girl." Nayeon strokes the younger girl's hair. She melts under her unnie's touch and praise, and the smile across her face widens when Nayeon kisses her cheek.

"Sit back and relax Daddy, I'm going to show you how our good girl cums under my touch."

Nayeon smirks at you when you curse under your breath. You're so fucking hard—a tent has formed under the zipper of your jeans, and you've had to undo your pants so you could be more comfortable. Yuna's eyes are locked on to your bulge, and she stares with dripping lust.

"Daddy, Yuna wants to see that cock. Show her what you'll be fucking her with?"

Phrased like that, there's no way you'd say no. You undo the button and zipper, then reach beneath the waistband of your briefs to fish out your hard shaft, exposing yourself to the younger bunny. Yuna's gasp is all it takes to stoke your ego—you look up to see Yuna's eyes fixated on your hard cock, but what seals the ego boost is Nayeon's hand back to rubbing Yuna's clit, and you watch in slow-motion as Yuna's pussy drips, wetting the floor with her lust. 

"Isn't it big, Yuna? That's the cock that fucks my pussy. Daddy always fills me up so well…"

"Hngh—!"

Yuna chokes back a moan as Nayeon penetrates her again. This time, her knees buckle when Nayeon's skilled fingers glide between her drenched walls, and you watch as Nayeon curls her fingers within Yuna as she thrusts in and out of the younger girl's pussy. 

"Doesn't it feel good, Yuna? You're doing so well for me, so well for us. Look at your Oppa, look at how hard he's jerking his cock for you."

You're unable to resist the urge—the sight of Nayeon masturbating Yuna might be one of the hottest sights of your entire sex life so far in college. Yuna can't tear her eyes off your cock, and similarly, you can't tear your eyes off Nayeon's fingers plunging deeply into Yuna's cunt as well, her other hand firmly kneading the younger girl's right breast, fingers tweaking her nipple. The wet sounds of Nayeon fingerfucking Yuna echoes around the empty auditorium, and so do her moans. Yuna's lustful, sultry moans go straight down to your cock, and you take a bit of time to spread the beads of precum at your tip all over your cock.

"Oh, Yuna-ya, come on, moan louder. Let Oppa hear how much you want him.”

Yuna moans softly, her words muffled. Nayeon tuts disapprovingly.

“No, no, louder. Oppa wants to hear you. Let everyone hear you.”

"—ppa, Oppa, Oppa, Oppa~!"

Yuna’s broken moans go straight to your cock, and you have to pinch the head to resist the urge to cum. Her high-pitched whines for you have you nearly blowing your load, and you’re not about to cum before she does—you want to watch her come undone right in front of your very eyes. The wet sounds of Nayeon’s fingers thrusting deep into Yuna’s cunt get louder, and stray droplets of Yuna’s slick fly off Nayeon’s knuckles. The younger girl in question is breathless, her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure wracks her body. Nayeon’s hot breath brushes against her ear, whispering pure filth to push her closer and closer.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well Yuna, Oppa’s so happy watching you. Look, look at how hard he’s jerking, look at how hard and wet his cock is…”

“Oppa~!”

“Imagine how good you’d feel with Oppa’s cock fucking this tight cunt of yours.”

“Yes, yes, YES!”

“Mm, go on, think about how big the stretch is, think about how good it’d feel when he empties his balls deep in your cunt.”

“Oh my God, Unnie, Nayeon-unnie, I’m—I’m gonna cum, I’m—!”

Everything seems to move in slow motion—Yuna’s loud cry of pleasure, her back arching, her body shuddering, her knees buckling. You gasp as a huge gush of squirt splashes all over the stage, and your eyes widen in shock as Yuna's gushes keeps on going. She doesn't orgasm in bursts like Nayeon does—with every buck of her hips, the stream only seems to get stronger as she cums in one continuous gush. Yuna thoroughly showers the stage with her cum, almost as if she is urinating. It overflows down over the fake plant boxes below, and that's when the stream tapers off, and Yuna collapses backwards against her Nayeon-unnie, sweaty, exhausted, but blissed out.

"You came so much, baby… such a good girl~."

Nayeon raises her fingers to her eyes, and she admires the glossy sheen of Yuna's slick and squirt covering her fingers and her palm. Her eyes glint in satisfaction, and she licks the stray droplets of cum that run down her arm, all while she stares deep into your eyes. Her next action is to wave her fingers in front of Yuna's lips. 

"Have a taste, baby."

Yuna obliges, her lips wrapping around Nayeon's digits. 

"Good girl."

The praise draws something out of Yuna, something more submissive, more eager. You watch as her eyes soften, and she becomes more pliant, more obedient. She sucks on her Nayeon-unnie's fingers, her hand holding her unnie's at the wrist to steady it as she licks it clean of her cum, all while Nayeon praises her with every swipe of her tongue. Yuna seems to beam under the praise, and you watch breathlessly as you take note of this new information. 

"Did I do good, Nayeon-unnie?"

"I think you did a very good job, baby. How about you, Oppa?"

You rise to your feet and smirk. 

"I think you've been a very good girl, Yuna."

The younger girl beams tiredly, the blush evident across her face. She squeezes her legs together unknowingly, a fact that doesn't escape Nayeon's and your notice. 

"Do you want a break, baby?"

"Yes, please, unnie."

"Mm…

“Take your break, Yuna. Sit right here so you can get a good view of how Daddy fucks me.”

Your cock is desperately aching for action at this point, and you hastily respond to Nayeon’s words. You take off your pants before hopping onto stage and moving towards her. She kisses you harshly and pulls you closer into her. Both your hands work instinctively on undressing each other. You push the blouse off her shoulders while she works on the button on her jeans. You break the kiss momentarily to remove your shirt and her crop top, before immediately diving back into her mouth. You feel up each other’s body, your hands choosing to fondle her tits while she focuses on your abs. Heat builds up between both of you, and the kiss intensifies until she cannot take it anymore. 

When Nayeon pulls away from you, you begin to plant a trail of kisses down her neck, shoulders and chest until you reach her waist. With the button undone already, you simply pull it down her legs. Nayeon is just left standing on stage in her ruined panties. A touch on her inner thighs is enough to make her shiver. You then pull down her panties and expose her dripping pussy for you and Yuna to see. The confident Nayeon from moments ago fades away, replaced by a quivering mess in need of you. You move behind her and push her closer towards the younger girl, fingers rubbing across her nether lips a few times before they dive into her pussy. She leans on your chest as her legs lose their strength. Her walls tighten around you and you feel more of her juices staining your fingers. You withdraw your fingers and hold them in front of Nayeon, and she licks it up without hesitation. Yuna looks in awe as the Nayeon she’s familiar with is stripped away, replaced with a Nayeon utterly overwhelmed with lust. 

When she’s done cleaning your fingers, she looks over her shoulder to face you, whispering, “Fuck me hard, Daddy. Let’s give our good girl a show.”

You oblige, hurriedly bringing your shaft by her entrance. Slick immediately stains your tip as you make first contact with her pussy, and Nayeon’s body reacts to you immediately. She sinks herself backwards on your shaft and takes in the first few inches of your cock. With her snug flesh already clenching around you, you can’t help but to thrust your hips to insert the rest of your length into her.

The instant you’re hilt deep, three moans ring across the auditorium—yours, Nayeon’s and Yuna’s. Having watched the two girls indulge in sin earlier, it’s about time for you to have your own fun. Familiar with Nayeon’s body, you begin to pound and use her without hesitance. She’s quickly reduced to a mumbling and cursing mess, unable to form coherent words other than “Fuck!” and “Daddy!”. 

You briefly look over Nayeon’s shoulder to see the younger girl’s reaction. Yuna’s eyes quiver, yet they remain laser-focused on your cock and Nayeon’s pussy. She’s biting down on her finger, saliva beginning to pool and seep out the corner of her mouth. Her other hand gently works between her legs, seeking out the pleasure she was bestowed by her unnie earlier. 

You’re glad she’s enjoying the show, but what about the main actress?

Leaning over to her shoulder, you sigh, “You naughty slut. You want to be watched getting fucked so bad that you brought someone, mm?"

“Yes, Daddy, yes, I did—mmgh!”

Nayeon's admission amidst loud moans of pleasure has you fucking her harder.

"Fuck, yes, fuck, Daddy, you—hngh~!—feel so good inside me!"

While Nayeon takes your cock, you're more than aware of the younger girl paying her full attention to the erotic scene in front of her. An idea pops into your head, and you pause for a split second, to Nayeon’s disappointment, and wrap a hand underneath her thighs. Lifting it up, you give Yuna a clearer view of your cock spearing Nayeon’s pussy. 

“Unnie, y-you’re so wet.” Yuna's voice is raspy with lust, and you field a glance at the Princess. She has her bottom lip between her teeth, a hand dangerously close to the dripping slit between her legs. You know it's only a matter of time before she breaks.

“Your cute little protege has her eyes glued on you, on your body, on your perfect pussy taking my cock. You like that, hmm?”

A deep moan is all that comes out of her mouth. She’s incapable of thinking, unable to process your words, fully concentrated on you and your cock and how good you’re making her feel. The thought of being watched whilst getting fucked hard all the times you teasingly whispered the possibilities of someone stumbling upon the dirty side of her have always been a turn on. Now, she has made her fantasy become reality—her featured guest sits by the side, having had her own fun, Yuna watches her, stares at her getting pounded hard, and Nayeon gets off from it, more than ever. 

However, Nayeon isn’t the only one enjoying this precarious situation. You’re sure many would kill to be in your position—not only are you a part of Nayeon's closest circle, you're regularly fucking her as and when she wants it. You're even more aware of this now—Nayeon has introduced Yuna to the mix for today, and with her widely reputed to be Nayeon's "successor, she's not unpopular herself. Yet, here you are, with both of them naked, fucking one of them while the other watches. You love it when Nayeon is reduced into this crumbling mess, far from her prim and proper self. This side of her is yours to admire and enjoy, and enjoy it you definitely will. 

You have the perfect view—Nayeon’s body rocks back and forth as you relentlessly pound her, cheeks flushed while she drowns in ecstasy, and from the corner of your eyes, you catch Yuna with her legs spread wide open, fingers driving in and out of herself. You’re immensely turned on, your balls aching and about to explode at any moment, but not yet, your job’s still not done. 

Yuna has her eyes glued to your bodies the whole time, mouth gaped open in awe at how rough you’re being with Nayeon and how well she’s taking it. Heart beating in anticipation, she can’t help but to wonder how good it will be when it’s her turn to be fucked like that. Nayeon did promise her it’ll be mind blowing and she’s now getting a live preview. She subconsciously starts to thumb her clit as well for more pleasure, her gasps growing in volume. “Fuck unnie…”

You lean over and whisper into Nayeon’s ear. “Open your eyes, baby girl. Look at your precious junior.” She barely registers your words and struggles to do so with the immense rush of pleasure in her head. Through half lidded eyes, she sees what you see—Shin Yuna deeply engrossed in the show you’re putting out, her face red, fingers and thighs thoroughly stained with her slick. 

“Look at her. She’s so wet and it’s all thanks to you.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes, you. Such a pretty slut taking cock so nicely. Maybe you should have invited more people to join. Maybe you should've called the entire school to gather here to watch you take this fucking cock like the slut you are.”

The thought of the auditorium filled to the brim with the school population, thousands of eyes watching her true self has Nayeon moaning louder. Maybe that’s what she wants all along. Such wild thoughts continue to fill her head, more ideas of how to push her fantasy further. 

“Cum for me, Nayeon-ah. Let Yuna see how beautiful you can be when you cum.”

Nayeon doesn't last longer than your sentence. With a scream, her legs buckle under the pressure and you hold her up by her hips as you keep thrusting into her orgasming pussy. Bursts of squirt shoot out and make a mess of your bodies and the stage. You persist with your fucking and maintain your thrusts into the tight, sensitive pussy, eliciting moan after moan from Nayeon. The auditorium echoes with her cries—any passerby could easily hear them, check it out and catch the three of you in this illicit act, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment.

A few more pumps into Nayeon later, you tumble out of control and your orgasm hits you. You cum inside her, mindlessly thrusting and burying your load deeper into her pussy until you’re properly drained. Shot after shot of thick cum fills Nayeon's tight pussy, and you pull her close and tight, softly cursing at the pleasure you enjoy right into her ear.

When everything subsides, you hear Nayeon's soft "Thank you, Daddy", and you give her a soft peck on the cheek before pulling out of her. Thick white drops of semen drip out of Nayeon's pussy onto the floor, and Yuna gasps at the sight. Both of you turn to look at the younger girl, and you're both so turned on at the sight that greets your eyes: the Princess of Seoul U is a mess. Yuna is pent-up—she clearly hadn't orgasmed, probably saving herself for the inevitable fucking she knew she'd get. Her eyes burn with lust, chest heaving with every deep breath she takes, nipples taut with arousal. The blush on her face hasn't left, and a puddle of her juices pools between her legs. When she pulls out her fingers from within her, slick drips from her digits onto the stage. 

"Oppa, Unnie… that was so hot…"

Both you and Nayeon admire the sight in front of you for a second more. You're still fully hard, already wanting to fuck Yuna for the first time. However, Nayeon has different plans. 

"Come here, Yuna-ya~"

The younger girl almost lunges for her senior, the desperate look in her eyes akin to that of a feral puppy compared to the bunny she commonly is likened to. She crashes her lips against her senior's, and you swear your cock gets harder watching both women make out with each other. Yuna can't resist kneading Nayeon's breasts, and Nayeon has a palmful of Yuna's plump ass, her fingers kneading the soft flesh. The lustful moans from both girls echo around the empty auditorium, and you can't help but stroke your slick cock in anticipation of what happens next. 

"Mm, Yuna, baby, you kiss so well."

The younger girl only blushes at the praise. She looks down at Nayeon's body shyly, a bright smile across her features.

"I have a little something for you to taste, baby girl~." Nayeon runs two fingers over her pussy, her voice shaking as the pleasure of her own touch creeps into her system. When she retrieves her digits, they're coated in a thick sheen of your semen, and with a push of Yuna's shoulders, the younger girl kneels almost immediately. She looks up, eyes wide in desire, lust, anticipation, and Nayeon gently lowers her cum-soaked fingers to Yuna's mouth. The younger bunny immediately takes them into her mouth, her tongue thoroughly cleaning her unnie's fingers of the mixture of her juices and yours. When the taste hits her, you watch as her eyes roll back and she moans, almost as if your cum was a delicacy. 

"If you want more of Oppa's cum, baby, come eat it out of unnie's pussy."

You're more than happy to put aside your desire to fuck Yuna—the sight of her eating your cum out of Nayeon's cunt is a worthy substitute. The blonde girl looks up at her unnie as her lips get closer and closer to Nayeon's cunt, and Nayeon smiles down at her junior, stroking her hair ever so gently. When Yuna's tongue first touches Nayeon's pussy, the older girl lets out a sultry moan, her hands gripping Yuna's head and pushing her crotch against the younger girl's face. The younger bunny sticks her tongue out and begins to lick along her unnie's slit, and she herself moans when your excess cum drips all over her tongue. It is at that moment where she wraps her lips around her unnie's pussy, and Nayeon throws her head back, enjoying the pleasure of her junior eating her out. Yuna fervently eats your cum out of Nayeon's cunt—when she pulls herself back to catch her breath, your semen and Nayeon's juices stain her lips and chin. 

"Oppa's cum tastes so nice, unnie." Yuna's tongue glides across her lips to collect the mixed fluids across her face, and you bite your bottom lip when she gives you a lustful stare, her eyes lingering especially on your hard cock. She even leans over to lick the precum off your tip, and you curse when she gives you a few strokes along the length with every swipe of her tongue.

"It does, doesn't it?" Nayeon strokes her junior's head, and when Yuna looks up at the both of you again, Nayeon gives her next instructions. "You'll get to taste it again later, baby. Oppa's been waiting so long for that pussy, your tight virgin pussy, and I don't think you should make him wait much longer~."

When Yuna rises from the floor, her eyes meet yours in a blazing gaze of lust. She bites down on her lip, her eyes travelling to your hard, twitching cock and back up, the desperation behind her eyes only further adding to your desire for her. You watch in burning anticipation as the lithe girl in front of you turns around. Your eyes follow her hourglass figure, from the soft curves of her neck to the sharp juts of her shoulders, down her thin waist. You drool at the sight of her hips swaying as she takes steps towards the podium, at the sight of her long legs, and best of all, at her supple ass as she bends over when she reaches her destination. Your eyes immediately lock onto her pussy, drenched and dripping, her thighs glistening with arousal, the floor beneath her wet as well. The killing blow Yuna delivers is through her next few actions—she turns back to you, her puppy eyes pleading with you to finally fuck her, and she spreads her pussy open with her right middle and ring fingers. Fresh slick drips and runs down her skin, along her hand. 

"Oppa, I'm ready for my fucking."

Yuna doesn't expect how quick you can be.

In two steps, you cover the distance between you and her. You grab your cock and aim it right for Yuna's spread hole, and the younger girl squeals in surprise when your pussy breaches the opening of her cunt. Before she can even speak, your hands grip her hips tight, and you send one hard thrust right into her cunt as you pull her right onto your cock, your pelvis slapping right against her ass. 

"OpPAAAA~!"

Yuna cries out when your thick cock stretches her virgin pussy out with your one stroke. You waste no moment—you're already pulling out until your tip is left in her before thrusting back in. As you begin to fuck the younger girl, you forcefully grab her by her face to watch her reaction, and you begin to pound her harder when you see her eyes roll back in pleasure, unintelligible moans echoing around the auditorium with each stroke. 

Yuna's pussy is tight, so damn tight, tighter than Nayeon's. Her walls quiver around your cock, the first she's ever taken, and they squeeze you so perfectly you swear you're in heaven. A rush of slick runs along your cock—did she just have a mini-orgasm or something, you wonder—and her body shakes as she attempts to take deep breaths. You knock the air out of her with every thrust you send into her, each stroke ending with you hilted deep in her, just like how you'd fucked Nayeon earlier. Yuna takes it all—she wants it, needs it just as much as you do.

"Oppa, Oppa, Oppa!!!!" Yuna can't stop repeating the word like a mantra—she can't seem to remember anything else. 

Next to both you and Yuna, Nayeon has her fingers in her pussy again, fucking herself at the sight of you railing Yuna. Your semen drips from her fingers as she plunges then into her cunt over and over, her free hand kneading her own breasts for pleasure. She moans just as unrestrainedly as Yuna does, and Nayeon swears you almost seem to rail Yuna harder knowing she's watching. As your cock appears and disappears into Yuna's tight body, Nayeon fixes her eyes on how Yuna looks—like a proper slut. Her junior's eyes are rolled back, jaw slack, tongue sticking out of her mouth. The ahegao fixed upon Yuna's face draws Nayeon towards her, and the older girl steps up to pull her close. You shift Yuna back to create space for Nayeon, and you watch as the older girl pulls Yuna into a torrid kiss. The hot sounds of both women kissing mixed with their moans leads you to groan as well, and you fuck Yuna harder to satiate your lust. Nayeon holds Yuna's head close to her chest with one hand, and you watch as the older girl reaches between her legs to masturbate again. 

"Unnie, uhn—!" Yuna's eyes are glazed over from pleasure, her speech broken up by moans and loud claps of your flesh against hers. The girl can't seem to hold steady—she almost falls over a few times as her hips buck on every brush of your cock against her G-spot. "Oppa fucks me so well, Oppa's fucking my pussy so good!"

"That's right, he is, because you're such a good girl. Good, pretty girls like you deserve poundings like that." Nayeon bites her lip at the pleasure she brings herself. "In fact, a good girl like you should suck on Unnie's tits."

Almost instantly, Yuna has her lips on one of Nayeon's breasts. She is completely pliant to any instruction—the praise is all she craves. Nayeon moans out loud as her junior helps to pleasure her, and you hear another set of wet thrusts join with the sounds of your sex with Yuna as Nayeon resumes fucking herself. 

"That's right, Yuna, keep sucking Unnie's tits like that, fuck, fuck!"

You can't believe how blessed you are. Just like that, you're balls deep in the Princess of Seoul U and thoroughly pounding her freshly deflowered cunt, fucking it hard and using it like you've used Nayeon's so many times before. Both girls are similarly wet and messy—your shaft glides against Yuna's walls just like how it would in Nayeon's, and Nayeon's thighs always glisten with slick during sex, just like Yuna's are right now as well. The entire situation right now is obscenely hot—many dream to fuck both Nayeon and Yuna, and here you are living it, with both women desiring your cock so much they're having sex with you together. Yuna's been fucked almost entirely silly, and Nayeon's enjoying it as she fucks herself with Yuna's help. 

Nayeon is the first to crack—Yuna's tongue, teeth, and hands are her undoing. The younger girl pinches and tugs at the older girl's nipples, occasionally playing with them between her fingers while her tongue flicks the sensitive nubs, and Nayeon's moans only get louder, whinier, her fingers plunging and thrusting harder, deeper—

"Daddy, I'm going to cum!"

Nayeon barely makes it to the end of her sentence before squirt explodes out of her. You watch in pure lust as the older bunny throws her head back, her guttural moans, the hiss of her squirt gushing from her cunt, and the loud splatters of her cum forming puddles on the floor echoing around the empty auditorium. Jet after jet of girl cum drenches the floor, and you feel Yuna tighten around you when she watches Nayeon orgasm. The younger girl begins to whine seeing her senior's body buck and writhe as she orgasms, her legs unstable, breasts jiggling with every shift of her body. 

"Oppa, Unnie, Yuna's gonna—"

Yuna's sentence ends in a scream as her hips buck, and squirt sprays out of her freshly-fucked pussy. Your cock is forcefully ejected from her cunt, and you have to hold the younger girl up as her legs buckle, the pleasure of her orgasm washing over her entire body. Both Nayeon's and Yuna's cum mix on the floor beneath them, the huge puddle of squirt evidence of how much pleasure they drew from this session.  You enjoy the sight of both girls orgasming together in each other's embrace, but that doesn't last for long—you have yet to get your release yourself, and Yuna's pussy was the only hole you hadn't filled with your cum. With one hard thrust after lining yourself up, you draw another scream from Yuna as you plunge your hard shaft into her still-orgasming pussy, and you pound her right through it, chasing your own high and prolonging hers. 

"Yuna, baby, I'm going to fill you."

"Yes, Oppa, yes~!"

When you begin to thrust hard into Yuna, Nayeon pulls her into a sloppy kiss. Both girls' bodies rock with your thrusts as they engage in a hot, sloppy makeout—tongues swirl, moans escape their kiss, and hands roam across bodies to further pleasure each other. Even as Nayeon's orgasm subsides, Yuna doesn't relent in rubbing her Unnie's clit and playing with her breasts, drawing more pleasure from her body.  You feast on the sight in front of you, enjoying the show that your two partners are putting up for you, and you work towards your own sweet release with every thrust. The friction that Yuna's tight, heavenly walls provide pushes you closer and closer, until… 

"Fuck, Yuna, fuck!"

Your cock twitches and pulsates before the first burst of semen is fired deep into Yuna's cunt. Yuna moans at the feeling of you firing shot after shot of semen into her at the tail end of her orgasm, and you squeeze your eyes shut as white-hot pleasure washes over you with each rush of cum that you leave in the younger girl. You never stop thrusting throughout your orgasm, every upstroke fucking your cum deeper and deeper into her.  

When you pull out of Yuna, a thick stream of cum leaks from her pussy, down her thighs. Some of it drips to the floor, mixing with the puddle of cum beneath you and her, and you stagger back, your cock softening after the intense sex session you've just had. However, the glint in Nayeon's eye tells you that it isn't over—you're not done for the day yet.

"Yuna, baby, now that we both have your Oppa's cum in our pussies…" Nayeon begins, pulling Yuna against her, their sweaty bodies flushed together. "...we should thank Oppa, mm?"

You're just as confused as Yuna is, but you're also willing to play along. Nayeon leads Yuna to a dry spot on stage, and she directs you to step back. Nayeon leans to whisper a few words into Yuna's ear, and you know you're in for a world of trouble when Yuna's face turns red, and she bites her lip in arousal, her eyes locked onto you, lust burning once more.  When both girls begin to lower themselves to the floor, Nayeon leaves you with her new instructions.

"Enjoy the show, Daddy~"

When each girl crosses a leg over the other's, and both of them shift closer to each other, it clicks. Your cock begins to stir once more as you watch Nayeon and Yuna meet each other in the middle, moaning out loud as they grind their pussies together. 

"Oppa, look at us, Oppa!"

Yuna's desperate call for your attention has your cock twitching as it hardens to its full length. The younger girl has a wanton look of lust all over her features, and Nayeon's expressions mirror Yuna's as well. You watch as both women's pussies get messier—they "share" your creampies in them through sex, their skin coated in a mixture of their slick and your semen. Yuna is the more eager one—she actively grinds down on Nayeon's pussy as if this would be the last time she'd be having sex, and Nayeon reciprocates with the same effort, pleasuring herself and her junior well as they put on a show for you. You can't resist stroking your cock anymore with the live sex show right in front of you. 

"Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good, I feel so good~!" Nayeon's loud moans for you have you jerking harder. "Look at us sharing your cum, look at us having sex!"

With how sensitive both women are—Nayeon having orgasmed a short while earlier, and Yuna only finishing recently, it doesn't take too long before they're both close, desperately grinding against each other as they chase their highs together. 

"Unnie, unnie, I'm going to cum soon, unnie!"

"Me too, Yuna-ya, let's cum for Daddy, let's cum for him to watch!"

You feast your eyes on how the Queen and Princess bring each other to orgasm—Yuna and Nayeon both grind down on each other hard, and Yuna is the first to scream before a huge gush of squirt sprays from her pussy, showering both herself and Nayeon in her cum. Nayeon takes a short while longer—she rubs her clit with her hands before her hips buck, and her own spray of squirt jets out to cover Yuna. Both girls drench each other's bodies with their cum, and you watch while pinching the tip of your shaft, unwilling to cum just yet. A short jet of white spurts from your cock as you watch, your semen dripping to the floor as you enjoy the deliciously wanton sight in front of you. You're almost delirious with pleasure, partially physical, partially from the almost unreal situation you're in. You enjoy the sight of both Nayeon and Yuna making messes of each other as well as the stage, their cum pooling into a massive puddle beneath them. 

When both girls finally come down from their highs, they move themselves towards you. 

"Oppa, it's time for you to cum too."

Nayeon wastes no time in taking your shaft into her mouth, her hand reaching to jerk you off. Yuna's lips and tongue reach for your balls, and you rest a hand on both of their heads as they please you together as a team. Both women share your cock as if it were a delicacy—when Nayeon would release you from her warm, slick mouth, Yuna would take over with a gentle suction and her tongue gliding under your cock, leaving you twitching. It doesn't take long for the familiar feeling to bubble back up. 

"Fuck, Nayeon, Yuna, I'm close."

Both girls immediately focus their efforts right at your tip. Their tongues glide up and down on your cock before they make out with each other at the head of your cock, pushing you closer and closer.

"Cum over our faces, Daddy. You've earned it for fucking us so well."

With a loud groan, a thick burst of cum erupts from your cock, and Yuna immediately aims your cock right at herself. You watch in ecstasy as your hot load paints Yuna's pretty features, a smile wide on her face as your hot white semen lands on her face and breasts. Immediately, Nayeon pulls your cock over to her, and it's her turn to receive bursts of your cum all over her pretty face and body. You swear you're cumming forever—burst after burst of semen showers over Nayeon and Yuna, and when you inevitably come down from your high, you're greeted with the hottest sight of the night—the Queen and Princess of Seoul U, covered in a mixture of semen and squirt, servicing you and cleaning your cock with their mouths after rounds of hot sex where you'd filled their pussies full of your hot cum.

There's nowhere else you'd rather be at this very moment.

[ravengards-rogue]

the evening stretch | warm-up series.

ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.

✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+

✧ wc : 2.7k

✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.

this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.

✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.

He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.

Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.

It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.

Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.

It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.

You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.

But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.

You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.

The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.

Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.

"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."

He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.

"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."

"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.

"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"

"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."

He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.

"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."

You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.

"Is that so?"

He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."

"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."

That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.

"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."

"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"

"Trelawny, I'd guess."

You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."

"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"

Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.

You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.

Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.

He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.

"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."

"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."

'"Read my mind, then."

"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"

His smile widens.

"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"

You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.

"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."

You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.

"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"

"I'm afraid I do,"

You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.

"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.

"Burn? You feeling warm?"

"Arthur!"

And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.

"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.

"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."

He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.

"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"

"Sweetheart—"

"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."

"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."

Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."

He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.

Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.

There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.

His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.

It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.

He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.

Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.

"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"

"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"

And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.

You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.

Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.

Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.

He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.

When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.

The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.

Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.

He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.

"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"

Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.

Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.

He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.

You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."

You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.

It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.

His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.

"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"

You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.

And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.

He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.

"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."

Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.

He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.

He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.

He's sure that will always be true.

When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.

And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.

Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.

Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.

You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.

"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."

Arthur beams at you unapologetic.

"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"

You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.

"Insatiable man."

"Only for you, my girl."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[fairyhaos]

how seventeen make the shot after saying "this one's for you"

requested by anon! im actually terrible at basketball so even if none of them made the shot then id be impressed at them for trying lmaoo. also chan is in 2 bc i think he fits both!

masterlist

seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu

makes the shot, is endlessly pleased with himself. will not shut up about it. it's going to be the story he tells during nights out with the others for the next five weeks straight. he's so genuinely delighted and he's all “did you see that? you saw that right? it's because i did it for you babe that's why it went in—” pls give this man a pat on the head and tell him that he did well bc otherwise there's a chance he'll keep pestering you until you compliment him. no but in all honesty, it really is quite sweet how excited he gets about it, and it does make you feel all kinds of loved.

jeonghan, minghao

makes the shot, and looks at you all weird when you're genuinely surprised. he knows how to handle a ball, okay? why are you so shocked? is the teensiest bit pleased on the inside though bc your reaction genuinely helped fuel his ego hugely. takes about 5 more shots in a row and is now grinning a little bc the wowed expression on your face does not fade. he has to eventually stop because he is starting to get a little embarrassed at how genuinely impressed you are.

joshua, junhui, dokyeom

doesn't make it, but he's so adorably embarrassed that it has you collapsing into a laugh and automatically going over to him to squish his cheeks, endeared. there's that tense moment where you think the ball is gonna go through the hoop, but when it ends up just bouncing off the side and shooting far away to somewhere else, he's turning away in embarrassment and you're grinning and reaching over to hug him and coo that it's okay because he made the shot into your heart long ago, and that's a shot that he definitely did not miss

woozi, seungkwan, (chan)

isn't able to make the shot right up until you finally drag him out of the court. he's normally good at this, but he swears that it's bc of the pressure he put on himself by declaring that he's gonna do it. woozi doesn't make it bc he gave up after three times. seungkwan doesn't make it bc he keeps talking between every shot and eventually you laugh and drag him home. chan tries his best, but apparently the ball must have had an argument with the hoop or smth bc it just refuses to go in and it's definitely not his fault

wonwoo, vernon, (chan)

either misses the hoop by miles or makes the shot and then gets all surprised at his own abilities. “holy shit did you see that? i'm basically a basketball god now. woozi can be the god of music and ill be the god of basketball” he is not basically a basketball god, but it was a good shot, and you laugh at how proud he is for making it as he gestures to the hoop and re-commentates the entire act for you like you weren't watching him the whole time. his reward for successfully wowing you is head pats and the promise of whatever ice cream he wants once you finally leave the court and go home.

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @jeonghanfr

[yonseibananamilk]

“𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆."

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ living with fyodor was the same as living without him. however, the night of his return reminds you, embarrassingly so, just how close the two of you are. literally. (~4k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 i think i may or may not be starting to hate my writing BUT i really stretched beyond what im used to in certain parts of this and i am quite proud of myself for that ^^

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 canon compliant, suggestive themes(especially around the end), fyodor is very cold temperature-wise, soft!fyodor(hes soft in his own way), references to my work song fic ! + connected directly to it will come back as it is a part 2 ^^

ᡣ𐭩 special special જ⁀➴ this fic is in collaboration with @musamora ‘s new talk!fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please try to check hers out too if you can — shes a brilliant writer and a lovely person overall <3

Books upon books knitted themselves compact inside the towering shelves that pressed into the walls of what you assumed was Fyodor’s home. He had never called it his home, in fact, you explicitly remember when he did bring you here —

“Welcome to this humble abode. Feel free to touch and grab whatever you desire. Everything here belongs to you, дорогая.”

— Ever since that blind date (gone wrong(but then right in the end)), the Russian had let you stay for as long as you liked. One night led to two, which led into you bringing over a few things for just a few more nights.

Which led to you staying with Fyodor for nearly a month now.

You shook your head at the thought. If anything, he was the visitor. The man was hardly ever home, therefore you weren’t even living together. And you were, like anyone else with experience in a leaky apartment, eager to accept a place as generous as this.

The house held two stories; the first floor with the living room, foyer, and utilities, and the second floor with the bathroom and bedroom. Not to mention there was even an accessible attic-study.

In the beginning, he had stayed the night with you on the couch while you remained upstairs. But it had been weeks since then. Your Russian companion, much to your dismayed crocodile tears, was now predominantly busy with his ‘mission’. You couldn’t argue with that.

Though, on one of the times when Fyodor did stay longer than just a few hours…

“Please? I don’t mind, I swear! Besides, we’re both adults, not some teenagers that’ll go off at the first brush of skin. You don’t have to sleep on the couch..!”

You didn’t want to admit that you had actually stained the sofa downstairs on the first day of being here — even if Fyodor knew about it already, with all his observance — and it also felt… wrong to have him sleep on the couch. Cold. In the dark. And very, very, very lonely.

With a desperate and dramatic gesture of your arms, you tried to make the bed as dreamy as possible to his cherry wine eyes. “See? So comfy!”

To prove your point even further, you jumped on yourself with a muffled noise in the comforter.

“How amusing.”

Your point was most certainly not taken.

Therefore, you began to deflate into the sheets. Even more muffled now, and perhaps even softer than before, you mumbled out — “Is ‘modesty’ really the only reason why you won’t share anything with me?”

Everything in the room stilled. As if gauging the weight behind your words. Then, faintly, a gust of a sigh fell into the golden air of your nearby nightlamp. The candle flame was tickled into a dance thanks to the Russian, twisting and spinning hypnotically.

So hypnotically that you failed to catch the shift in the bed beside your head.

Not until a chilled hand fell atop your head. Bony fingers of ice itself urged your face up and away from the fire. Your attention was rewarded with a smooth, humming smile.

“There is more, дорогая.” He admitted. “But those reasons have nothing to do with you. After all, you are the sole reason why I would like to sleep here.”

Briefly, so much so where you barely even caught it this time — a thumb brushed over your lips. Cherry wine eyes batted down at you, reflecting the flame behind your burning face. Like the sun was the center of his very being.

“Then why don’t you?”

As his thumb curled into the corner of your lips, the rest of his hand glided over your skin. Two fingers read the curves of your jawline. Its adjacent pair followed down to the side of your neck.

He could grab your entire head with ease.

Fluttering ties in your stomach unraveled and twisted again in an endless heap of knots. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking of? Why is he getting closer?

A chilled breath brought respite to your burning cheeks. But only for a moment.

Why is he moving away?

“Be wary of the fatigue that will eat you, if you do not sleep soon, дорогая.”

Pale feet revisited the cold, yet still warmer than him, floors. Wood welcomed him with a tired creak, following the man’s every step until he reached the doorway. By then, you had turned off your back to finally face him yourself.

“But I’m not tired.” Horribly, a yawn tore through your last syllable. The heaviness of your eyelids was never apparent until now.

Another amused hum brought you back to the Russian before you, hand on the knob as he smirked down at you. Slowly, the sharp edges of his little grin faded into something softer, fuzzier.

A smile, he had gifted you.

“If you are not tired…” Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating every little thing for his next suggestion. As if crying out — “What? Yes? What is it?”

“Then remember this: there is danger in giving into one’s desires, дорогая.” Icy red eyes rove over your laden figure with an unreadable spark. He always looked at you so curiously.

“I would be wise to not fall victim to such dangers. As would you.”

The closing door halted itself instantly when you let out the smallest of huffs.

“My offer still stands…” With a dragging breath of protest, you fell underneath the blankets.

Black swirls encapsulated your mind as you managed to spin his words effortlessly; “Remember this: there is reward for passing through danger.”

…

Unknowingly shooting through the Russian’s morale — you fell asleep with the same singular weight of your own on the bed. However, the door was still ajar in the morning upon your awakening.

But that moment was weeks ago. The memory of it proven by the clear frown on your lips — twitching up and down every now and then based on whatever the book you read said.

You wouldn’t spend your time thinking about someone who wouldn’t even give you so much as a clear answer to ‘How was your day?’

A creak of wood whipped your head around in urgence. Only for nothing to be there.

Nothing but a pang of disappoint. All at the absence of a certain Russian.

Well. Maybe you would spend a bit of your time.

With a ruffled sigh you fell back against the chair, pages still in hand as the grandfather clock behind you whisked the day away. These moments of solitude had become a daily part of your life — ever since popping out of Fyodor’s floorboards like a daisy in the snow.

But they might as well have been your floorboards too.

The creak of wood glided past your ears. Followed by the light shuffle of a coat being draped over the rack nearby. Then the ghosts of footsteps slowly but surely making their way toward the living room.

“Hm?”

Much to his amusement, there you sat. Old book in hand atop the gentle rise and fall of your chest. In a peaceful slumber too.

“How adorable.” The R rolled after his deep chuckle, growing slightly in volume as he drew closer to your laden frame. “Falling asleep to folktales, are we? Hm, дорогая?”

Frostbite ghosted over your cheek. A chill fell over your fingertips — the lingering absence of your now-taken book. Burgundy eyes flitted over the title with a deep hum.

Surprisingly enough, you had managed to find one of the few English books that hid in his shelves. The vast majority were Russian(as he wasn’t the best with learning new languages).

“Orpheus and Eurydice?” His tongue read. “Now what on Earth compelled you to read such a tale..?”

Firewood slid off one another as it ate away at itself in incessant hunger. A desire for something warmer than what it already had. A rod poked it stable in no time.

“Perhaps my дорогая is more romantic than she lets on. It makes me wonder…”

The shadows around him chuckled in tandem before, again, rippling as the fireplace was muted once more.

‘What a foolish thought.’ His brain reprimanded.

Yet his heart leapt not once, but twice — as you began to slowly stir awake. With orange light painted across the dips of your babbling lips in a silent dance with dark.

“Uah… who’s there..?”

Raven locks fell to the side as he tilted towards you slowly. Akin to an animal watching something unusual. Unexplainable. Unimaginable. A thick silence filled the air as Fyodor lagged to translate your words — no thanks to the strange foreign tingling south of his head — all by the sight of you.

‘How vulnerable.’ He mused. ‘How adorable.’

Despite knowing full well what was coming out his lips — despite knowing just what it could risk for him —

“Федя is here.”

He had willingly revived something. Something that had lied dormant for dozens of hundreds of years. All for you. You and your daftly half-conscious state. He hadn’t been called such a simple name since childhood.

And since his family was alive.

Despite his already-dissipating regret, icy tips glided reverently over the crown of your head. The locks of it threaded like yarn. Each part sifted through like flour. The back of it all was cupped tightly — encouraging your limp head to face him.

“Fe… diya…?”

Oh how adorable you were. So sleepy you couldn’t even pronounce a simple nickname. A diminutive. An endearment.

Nor could you realize how special you were right now. Though, that was the norm at this point.

“Yes. Can you indulge Fedya for a moment, дорогая?” The Russian cooed with a smile both condescendingly familiar, and unrecognizably tender.

Your whined nod was enough to coax him closer. Arms atop the sides of the chair. Frosted breath wafting just shy of your pulse.

“Can you tell Fedya what you were thinking of? Hm?”

Lithe fingers haunted the cover of your little folktale with echoed taps. His cherry wine gaze hooked onto the half-lidded glaze in your eyes.

“Tell him what you were thinking of when reading such a story?”

As slurred syllables pooled from your tongue, Fyodor locked himself onto every quiver, bite, and sound. Each was greedily soaked into the prodigy’s mind — held in higher regard than any mazed tactic.

Although just as half-lidded as yours, his eyes were far more awake than they had been during his accursed mission earlier.

After all, if Fyodor knew such a sweet sight waited for him here — he would’ve destroyed everything in his path to get back as soon as possible.

Frosted breath ghosted over the angle of your jaw, waiting patiently for something more.

“I… I thought that Eurydice was very lucky to have been loved so dearly... Regardless of what happened at the end.”

Black brows rose at you. “Lucky?”

“Yes. I’m a bit envious — being loved so dearly is…” A shake of the head pauses your sleepy train of thought. With a deep breath, your head reclined further into the plush of your seat before correcting yourself.

“Being loved is a very lucky thing indeed.”

Well weren’t you the lucky one?

The gentle squeaks of the couch were thankfully muffled by your weight, settling further and further into its cotton fabric. Your warmth soaked into it well. Though, much of that warmth was the fire’s — which only seemed to be growing.

Just along the edges of your peripheral, a certain smiling Russian was also present — leaned over your shoulder closely. Close enough for the scent of black tea to flood your nostrils yet again.

“Could you imagine it?”

A chill ran over the hairs on the nape of your neck. Fyodor’s breath was cold. His lips too.

“Imagine being loved…?” Your voice was far softer than expected. “I… suppose it would be nice. Very nice, in fact. I’d like to be cared about…”

Shifting your eyes, the golden text of the book was now being circled by Fyodor’s idle fingers. Lithe enough to perfectly recreate the intricate cursive. And cold enough to make you shudder at the mere sight.

Nonetheless — the image of such hands snug around you was as warm as the shared fireplace.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” He cooed. Slender fingertips rhythmically tapped atop the book cover.

“Being loved…” Cherry wine eyes reflected the orange fire beside you. “Or wanted…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Is a very human desire.”

Another swallow. Glued to the fiddling hands in your lap, your heart leaped with you upon asking;

“Do you desire it as well?”

Briefly did his eyes widen.

It was borderline impossible to catch Fyodor off-guard. But, as luck would have it, you succeeded at it like any other mundane task. You always did.

It’d be terrifying if not so attractive.

“I suppose…” Once unoccupied fingers found their way atop your shoulder. Chills ran through your arm. As well as an unwelcome spark through your entire body. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A flicker of your shared fireplace caught your eye. Avoiding the piercing gaze of Fyodor Dostoevsky as he, much to your confusion, stared into your very essence. It was as if he was analyzing every curve and groove before completely committing it to memory.

That sly, condescending chuckle reeled you home to him. All semblance of earlier surprise had drained from his eyes. “What a curious question, дорогая. Were you picturing it in your mind?”

Blackberry strands fell against the white fabric of his shirt, flowing in tandem with the inching of his face.

“Thinking… pondering… wondering…”

Orange light danced within the seeds of his eyes.

“Imagining what it’d be like to be loved by me?”

You didn’t know whether to fuse with the couch or disappear completely.

Whatever happened to the fire danced over your already-burning cheeks — radiating against the chill of Fyodor’s face as he bordered closer and closer.

“Can you imagine it?”

Close enough to count each eyelash.

Close enough to taste the scent of black tea and iron on your tongue.

Close enough to feel the subtle heat of his cheeks.

“Imagine being loved by me?”

Your lower lip began to tremble. Sweat sprinkled from your shaky palms. That same spark shocked you from head to toe yet again.

Everything felt heavy. Heavy and warm.

And your nose itched. Itched and twitched. You couldn’t help but sniff — which only amplified the hot water in your eyes — already glittering in your lashes. The unsaid border between the two of you dwindled like a candle in the wind.

All you knew was that you were sweaty, shaky, and far too warm to be considered normal.

A snort caught itself in his throat. While perfectly timed with just how stiff you were getting, your little sniffle was not out of embarrassment. Simply an incoming sneeze that he would gladly bless you for in: 3, 2—

“Achoo!”

…

He did not want to finish that countdown.

“Woah…! I got my boogers on your face! Hah!”

“That you did.” The Russian begrudgingly muttered, closed eyes subtly twitching under the weight of your giggles and dabbing sleeve. “Bless you.”

Despite all your unceremonious, uncouth, undisciplined whatnots — the sheepish smile you flashed to him was hardly ignored. “Thank you… Did it get in your eye?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Aww. Better luck next time then.”

The caught snort from before clawed its way out of Fyodor and into a throaty, hearty, genuine laugh.

No cocky chuckles. No sadistic grins. No sly hums.

Just a normal laugh. With golden fire reflecting off the sides of his face like framing sunrays. And a usually imperceptible ombre of deep magenta in his otherwise black hair — thanks to the generous amount of light the fireplace provided a few feet away.

Sure, it was akin to the cawing of crows at the crack of dawn — Fyodor most certainly hadn’t laughed like that in what seemed like centuries. But it was touching nonetheless.

Very much so.

“It’s rude to stare, дорогая.”

It was even harder to look away when he was smiling so warmly.

“I bet Orpheus wouldn’t think Eurydice was rude — even when her boogers got in his eye.”

An unfamiliar emptiness frosted over your shoulder when the Russian leaned away. “Perhaps, дорогая. Perhaps.”

You couldn’t recall a time when he was ever so warm.

“There are no more wool blankets.” The Russian patted through the wooden cabinets with a small hum. “Дорогая, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

Looking over his shoulder, a cherry wine gaze poured over your freshly showered & dressed body. You learned to always stay snug for the cold that managed to occasionally sneak its nightly way past the fireplace — crackling happily a hallway down.

You hummed back, offering the man a smile warm enough to rival it. “I do.”

“And whatever happened to them?” Knowing lips cooed. The answer fell sweeter when it was from your tongue than his mind.

“I put them in the attic because they scratched at my face,” Rubbing at your arms, a wave of apology washed over you. Maybe Fyodor preferred blankets that way? Scratchy and itchy. He was a strange man after all.

Even more strange now that he was finally content with sharing a bed. You don’t think you’d ever seen a man smile for so long. However eerie though, at the end of the night, it was… endearing.

Tonight, he had changed out of the usual wear for war(or whatever he did outside of the house) — a fluffy white robe wrapped snug around Fyodor. Tied together by the loose cotton belt.

“And so you have been sleeping in a single blanket? Instead of the multiple wool ones I had given you?” The urge to hang your head was woefully strong. You opted to shuffle your feet instead.

“Yes, Fyodor. I… I can give you the blanket for the night if that’s what you want?”

Briefly, his roving eyes met yours. With a small lilt of his voice, which was another strange way of expressing amusement for him, the Russian cooed; “And leave a woman to fend for herself against the cold?”

Another spark of warmth crackled under your skin. The sensation swam through your bones in a melting frenzy that burned your face once it reached it.

“T-then we can share…?”

Cherry eyes crinkled in delight.

“Wonderful idea, дорогая.”

As your knees slowly crawled up to meet your chest, the sway of his hair encapsulated you in a garden of imagination — with cherry wine eyes to drink and straight locks that rivaled shades of the ripest blackberries. Such sweet attributes for such a cold man.

Literally. He was colder than the air itself when sitting on your bed. The man could’ve drunken up all the warmth in the room, and still ask for more.

“You’re freezing!” You whined out, curling into a shuddering ball. “Maybe you should take that blanket, you might as well take the ones in the attic too.”

A frown quipped its brows at you. Yet, despite all his shown annoyance, there lacked a general sense of danger that once lived within.

Every glare was now punctuated with a cooing riddle of warning but quickly followed by a soft smile — imperceivable to all he knew. Excusing you.

“And I assume that means you are warmer? Hm?”

“Well, duh. I’ve been soaking in the fireplace all day waiting for you.”

“Oh?”

Under the gentle fire of your candlelit bedside, a meek coral bloomed across the slim cheeks of his face. His ears were red too — how long had he been that way?

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Yes.” An exasperated breath left you feeling flustered and confused.

“Diligently?”

“And I was very lonely the whole time.”

A sense of deja vu sprung over you like a freshly pouring fountain.

Candlelight brewed against his face. Cherry wine eyes raked over your every inch. Pale skin, now painted with pink, smoothly approached closer and closer and closer —

Until the two of you are face to face once again. Illuminated only by generous candlelight and warmed by a singular blanket, except for Fyodor leeching off your heat.

“Дорогая, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you thought we were married. With you waiting so, what was the word...?"

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ah yes. Diligently for my arrival.”

Freezing fingertips grazed along the bridge of your jaw. Dancing over the skin like whistling air, then halting at the chin. Two fingers held it gently, softly, reverently even.

“Though, my words are not necessarily a complaint.”

Candlelight pooled over the side of his face, glistening in the corners of Fyodor’s eyes like water lanterns at nighttime. You could only hope he was staring at you because you looked just as beautiful.

Gulping, a strained noise tumbled from your lips —

“Oh? Whining now?” A chilling thumb ran over the shine of your bottom lip. He was closing in.

“I did not whine.” Your voice cracked. “I just—”

Words left you. Tumbling freely from your throat in an entanglement of broken syllables and whines.

And with each mishap, his grin only grew. Evident by the crinkled underside of his trailing gaze.

At long last, a semblance of defense clicked into mind — spilling out with almost-paralyzing heat inside. And yes. Your voice cracked a second time.

“You caught me off-guard!”

“I did?” He crooned. The weight of your blanket was peeled off — making way for Fyodor to finally join you. Which you would’ve been over the moon about — if your thoughts weren’t so scrambled. You only hoped his were, too.

Every restrained laugh. Every languid movement. Everything he did — you prayed that he felt even a semblance of the bashfulness you did. Maybe then, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing.

“Oh, дорогая.” Frostbitten lips sighed. “You truly are adorable.”

Time melted into an infinity of simply you and Fyodor. With your brain dry of anything else to say, and his hopefully the same. With one last strained noise, you turned away to bury yourself into the cotton of your now-shared bed.

A candlelit silence bloomed over.

As the sheets’ soft heaviness cradled back over you, Fyodor included now, the man slid himself behind your burning face — peacefully watching the uncharacteristic heat fizz out of your little head.

Blackberry locks stretched over the expanse of the pillow like grape vines across a fence.

Amid all your muffled sounds, the cotton had begun to seep a sense of sleep into your skin, added on by Fyodor’s granted silence. With a sniffle, you reluctantly let go of his blundering words — slowly but surely relaxing into the candlelight bed. But not without an evident pout.

A haze of warmth enwrapped you. Cozy.

The edges of consciousness were held by none other than a familiar pair of cold hands. Which slithered their way around your waist — pulled you snugly against their owner’s body — allowing him to soak in the feast of your body heat.

Oddly enough, as the Russian slid himself closer, not an inch of his frigid temperature leaked into yours. Quite the opposite.

Your slumbering body thawed away at his cold one.

Save for one place that did not need any more warming. Like his cheeks, for example. Or elsewhere.

taglist ᯓᡣ𐭩 @aureatchi @soleelia + people that also wanted to be added but please know time is my greatest enemy

translations! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

дорогая - ‘darling’ i just cant envision fedya saying ‘baby’. darling is the only accurate one.

thank you so much to @musamora for betareading again !!! she is quite literally the sweetest writer i know and this fic couldnt be possible without her ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

also thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers! the images for the banner were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

© yonseibananamilk 2024 - please refrain from copying, plagiarizing and/or reposting my works on other platforms. reblogs, notes, and comments are very appreciated!

[naomi-nana]

Can I req bofurin boys on a first date? Thank you and have a nice day

first date with him . wind breaker

first date headcanons

featuring : kiryu mitsuki, sakura haruka, taiga tsugeura

cw : none, just pure fluff!

a/n : so sorry for being late to this ask i've been very busy these past few days but im trying my best to finish this all. and i really like this idea so i might make a part 2 :3 and have a nice day too!

DONT TRANSLATE MY WORK!

SAKURA HARUKA

- he actually doesn't know what to do

- was about to give up and told you that the plan was cancelled until nirei slapped him on the shoulder(nirei got slapped back)

- decided to get advices from kaji

- kaji also doesn't know and told him to leave him alone, but he also told sakura to atleast bring something with him to give to you

- he ended up bringing you to cafe pothos since he couldn't think of any other place

"...s-sorry..it's not much." you heard him mutter something but can't quite make out what it is, so you asked him to repeat it once again which makes his face goes bright red. "i- i don't know what you're talking about! i didn't say anything!"

- after spending time in the cafe and eating both your meals, he finally brings out the gift that he prepared for you

- kotoha won't stop sending him side eyes and a teasing smile which makes sakura unable to utter a word

- he just shoves it in your face(gently)

"h-here..take this." he says nervously while averting his gaze from yours. sakura took a long time picking out gifts for you and now he doesn't know if you'll like it or not. you opened the bag and found a bread. "a bread?" "just take it!"

KIRYU MITSUKI

- he wants to take you to an arcade but he thinks it's a bit too much for a first date, so he'd probably took you to a famous cafe in town

- he'll also come pick you up from your home

- when you walked out of your home, he took your hand in his and compliments your outfit

- he won't stop talking of how pretty you look that day, even after you're finished with the date he'd still bring it up each time you met.

"you look so pretty," he smiled at you as he took your hand in his, "lucky me for being able to date you." his words makes you flustered.

- when you arrived at the cafe, you'd think that he would be on his phone all the time since it's all that he does, but he actually put it in his pocket for today.

- if you're too anxious to order food, he's gonna order it for you

- would pay for the food

"is it really okay?" you look at the bills on the table, then look at him again with furrowed brows. "yeah, of course it's okay." he took your hand in his again and smiled at you.

TAIGA TSUGEURA

- you'll definitely know where he's taking you

- he told his friends that he's going to take you to a gym as a first date so you both could spend time together while also do workouts

- his friends obviously told him it's a stupid plan and told him to take you to a restaurant instead

- he probably took you to that one place(if you know what im talking about)

- he will apologize the whole time if the place isn't to your liking

"i'm sorry if this place doesn't look too fancy," he put his hands together and lowered his head, "but i promise you this place has great food! i come here regularly!" you smiled at him and tell him that it's okay as long as you're spending time with him. he's now pretty flustered and also proud of himself.

- you noticed that most of the food has the word 'energy' in it, you don't understand but you still order whatever you like.

- he of course ask you his infamous question, and you answered. the fact that you actually answered the question makes him very happy.

- after you both finished your meals, he takes you home.

"thank you for today." you smiled at him warmly and said that you had fun, you also complimented him. about how his loud and cheerful personality also makes you feel happy. hearing those words from someone he loves makes his heart melt. he can only mutter out a little thank you because a tear started to form in the corner of his eyes.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr. DONT TRANSLATE MY WORK!

[arriansarchive]

Bottom!Dom!Carl Gallagher/Male!Top!Sub!Milkovich!Reader

This one's been in my mind for a while but I haven't acted upon my urges

Warnings since I forget to do them a lot: edging, pinching??? painplay????, other smut stuff, getting caught

Like season 10/11??? It doesn't really specify or anything but he's an adult

I've also decided to switch my name tag from y/n to m/n so yeah (i might forget in later stories so idk)

I used the word cock again be proud. im evolving

Summary: Porn

A simple day for junk food and TV programs. Well, that's what it was supposed to be before Carl got any bright ideas as usual.

Mickey had chaperoned you over to the Gallagher house after a job interview to help him with a few things, but you ended up just sitting with your boyfriend for a while. It wasn't the most productive thing you could be doing though nobody cared but Mickey.

By this time you both had gotten a few drinks down, and you were successfully quite tipsy. Not drunk to the point of delirium but not all there either.

You were barely paying attention to the TV until a rather heated, weirdly even, sex scene popped up. Carl laughed a little before leaning back in his seat.

A few minutes went past and in the corner of your eye you saw Carl stiffen, his mouth in a straight line. He seemed uncomfortable.

"You good?" You lolled your head over from the back of the couch to stare deeply at him.

He looked over at you, seemingly contemplating something before he lunged at you with full force. Carl pushed you back onto the couch vigorously with a elated look, straddling you.

"Don't tell me that shitty sex scene actually got to you." You rolled your eyes, but your breath automatically hitched whenever he grinded against you.

You tried to maneuver your way out from under him, but Carl held you down with such force that you didn't know where it even came from.

"I'm not going under today." He declares while shrugging off his jacket.

"Then what do you suggest we do?" You crossed your arms behind your head and yawned.

"You'll see." He muttered once he finally tugged his shirt over his head.

Carl started to unbutton the fancy shirt you had spent pretty much all your money on for your interview, but he decided to leave it on even after it was fully unbuttoned. Fucking in style or something like that.

He pressed his mouth up to yours needily. His hands were roaming your body and pinching you at random spots, making you flinch and groan into your boyfriend's mouth

You gasped lightly into Carl's mouth as his hands traveled down your dress pants, palming you roughly through your boxers. He had an evil smirk on his face.

"If you're this hard from me just doing that then you'd better prepare yourself." He whispered in your ear seductively.

You whimpered at the cold air whenever his hand left you, and your pants and boxers were pulled down.

Carl drug his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly for about a minute before teasing the tip with his thumb. The pad was circling the slit which was leaking steadily.

You were barely able to contain your noises of displeasure whenever he pulled away completely to take his own pants off but couldn't help to wonder what he was going to do next.

Suddenly he bent down from the couch and pulled out a few lube packets from one pocket of his pants.

"Were you planning this?" You managed to get out with a shakey voice.

He grinned. "Of course I was."

Carl was notorious for pain play with you. He loved doing it probably more than he loved normal sex without it, so no stretching wasn't a problem with him as he was usually the bottom.

He spread the lube over you, massaging around the base and tip mostly since he knew you were the most sensitive there.

You both groaned loudly in unison whenever he started to lower himself onto you. You were basically in agony from how slow he was going, and you could tell he was too.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the ecstasy that enveloped you at even the slight movement of his hips up and down on you. He had a maniacal look in his eyes.

He raised his legs up to where your tip was about to slip out and then slammed back down into you. Carl started a steady pace of this, not too fast but not too slow.

Both of your whimpers and groans were filling the silent, empty living room. Now that most of the Gallaghers were adults they weren't in the house a lot

Carl felt his wits end coming closer with each passing thrust, but yours was going even quicker. He had always noticed you were louder whenever you were about to finish.

Your hips spasmed as you came into Carl. He continued to bounce, chasing his orgasm while overstimulation engulfing your senses

Thick white ropes shot out of Carl rapidly with a loud scream of pleasure. You felt yourself start to harden once more and almost groaned in exhaustion.

He collapsed onto your chest, not bothering to take your cock out of him for the time being. It was silent until you both heard footsteps approach from the back door.

"Carl, what the hell are you doing?" A female voice yelped from the back of the couch.

"Tuning you out. What the hell does it look like?" He opened one eye passively and shrugged.

"Well, it looks like your fucking Mickey Milkovich's brother."

"That part is true too."

Your face flushed in embarrassment as Debbie and Carl argued back and forth about Franny's wellbeing and other concerns about fucking on the Gallagher house's couch. The words vomit and piss were used too much for your liking.

Ian's cackle became apparent from the kitchen along with Mickey's heavy footfalls.

"You fuckin' my brother, Gallagher?" He called.

You both decided to take your second round down to the basement. It's safe to say you got teased about it for a while after that.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Miraculous Ladybug

Open My Eyes by buggachat

Adrien smiles as he eats breakfast with Nathalie, smiles as he walks through the halls of his new lycée, smiles as people stop him on the street and tell him time and time again what a "hero" his father was.

(Adrien wishes he could've been a hero, too. He should've been. Maybe then his father would still be alive.)

(But he's surviving. Everyone may be treating him as though he were made of glass, but he can still go through the motions, he can prove them wrong, he can still smile.)

“And you’re… happy,” Marinette spoke carefully, a nervous tilt to her voice, “... right?”

(Adrien has some things to find out.)

DC

the good, the bad, and the power hungry by konan_konan

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・8hr if one more person tweets about #superlex unironically im gonna end it all 391K Views | 200 Retweets | 13 Quote Tweets | 22.1K Likes

j-son of a bitch ☑ @jsntdd・8hr ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo hurr durr these are the consequences of ur actions bitch 201K Views | 109 Retweets | 4 Quote Tweets | 18.4K Likes

or: lex luthor makes bad choices. and then, so does everyone else.

call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.

This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

how big, how blue, how beautiful by merils

Kon-El is not good with medical settings. One could even say he's quite bad with them. How bad, exactly?

Well, let's put it this way: Very few things in the world can make him scream for Superman to save him.

(Superman will save him. That's what family's for, right?)

Clone Wars

The Kenobi Chronicles by WobblyCat

General Kenobi isn't actually dead. Someone should really tell that to his troopers, though.

Or: The clones under General Kenobi's command have a groupchat dedicated to him. Cody wishes his subordinates weren't so fucking stupid.

SVSSS

Shen Yuan's Forced Shen Qingqiu Redemption Arc by SpicyReyes

The System's OOC function won't unlock all at once - instead, character traits have to be added individually, through quests. This leads to Shen Qingqiu having to jump through endless hoops just to complete enough side quests to unlock the ability to be a decent person - all while avoiding the effects it has on those around him. If only the cheapskate System wouldn't keep changing the cost of point values - he needs to know what the hell Yue Qingyuan told the others about him that makes them all look so sad when he does manage to be nice! He's breaking his back here, can't we just appreciate his work?!

second-hand alibis by nex_et_nox

"All right. I’m in Proud Immortal Demon Way," he says, once he's had a chance to compose himself again. He sits back up, tossing his stupidly long hair back over his shoulders where it belongs; he is totally calm and ready to grill the System for more information.  "Who am I supposed to be?" Please please please don't let it be someone who Bingge violently murders. Though given the fact that he's a man in PIDW, his chances are already skewed, and not in his favor. Ugh. [Bound Role: Shen Yuan, Rogue Cultivator. Weapon: the sword Heng Li. Starting B-points: 100.]

or: Shen Yuan transmigrates as a rogue cultivator, one completely unconnected to any canon characters or events. Right, System? Right?

[snapscube]

Anything you're especially proud to have accomplished this year before the new one rolls upon us?

TRUTHFULLY a lot of my accomplishments were relatively small compared to my ambitions but in the grand scheme of things add up to a lot of meaningful life improvements and successes i think. i dont know if there's like ONE BIG THING i'm especially proud of. a lot of the big stuff i WANTED to do got pretty delayed for one reason or another. but, as for small stuff:

i started an even SOMEWHAT regular exercise routine and have managed to hit the end of the year without dropping it completely, despite occasional slowdown

i got my name legally changed

though it was a bit of a bait-and-switch in terms of intentional production value, we DID technically put out an episode of SRTF this year. we even shadowdropped it, and it has received a ton of praise in spite of itself.

in terms of streams, i genuinely think this was the best year for stream quality and consistency i have ever had. with absolute banger playthroughs like Tears of the Kingdom, Spider-Man 2, Dragon Quest 8, Resident Evil 4, etc. i think i really raised the bar for myself.

and oh shit speaking of, i did my first marathon charity stream this year and raised over $10K for AHA

i made a lot of progress on my art!! made an honest effort to pick it back up and i genuinely think my work at the end of the year compared to where it was is a subtle but noticeable bump, though i did fall off a bit more than i intended.

and though i don't have MUCH to show for it right now tangibly, i have been working a lot in the back of my mind and in various documents on some Actual Fiction that i hope to be able to sink my teeth into more next year.

and yeah there's definitely a lot more small stuff in between! it's tough because i still feel so behind on a lot of stuff that i feel like should have been a lot higher priority for me, but if i'm giving myself credit it definitely puts into perspective just how Not Totally Washed i am when i start to list stuff out. which is nice to be able to do! everything in its time i suppose! im not starting 2024 with any "resolutions" or anything quite as high stakes per se but i do have a large list of goals im still gonna be working towards. i think the main thing i really want to nail down is prioritizing my time and energy towards the things that are gonna make the biggest impact on my own personal satisfaction so it becomes easier to feel like i wasn't just coasting for 12 months.

[fatuismooches]

Dottore and his s/o character miscellany but it's formatted as if fragile!reader is the only character that is going to be released and that they're going to be separate units.

While Dottore is explaining and narrating (how the pufftorres boosts and foxtorre works) until he slowly becomes distracted in his narration.

Reader: *gets hit*

Dottore, pauses briefly but continues, noticeably his tone is slightly agitated. Another hit, another pause.

Dottore tries to continue again—

Reader receives a heavy hit and is now on red bar.

Dottore, clicking his tongue. "That's enough."

Get baited! They're actually a dual unit! Dottore enters the miscellany, that's one of his voicelines when he automatically switches in (smooth transition let's go!)

And now it's reader's turn to explain Dottore's attacks and passives in the miscellany, making a quick quip that they're fine and that they'd be back up in no time with a laugh (no they're not fine they're on life support)

Also: Cute moment where Dottore scolds reader for staying out too long! Telling them off that they should have stepped away sooner. Reader is horrible at following instructions though, so no. The banter happens just when the video is about to end :D

OH YESSS NONNIE YOUR BRAINNN >>> ahh that is so real... I can already hear his voice: "[Name]'s Normal Attack can combo up to four strikes, dealing physical damage" and the best part is that even though his voice sounds normal you can just hear how proud he is of you for being able to do this 😭 like you were barely able to write probably and now you're out on the field doing this... although you still are very weak, he is quite proud ❤️

UGH when he's speaking and explaining your kit, all you can see in the background is poor reader getting hit by enemies and the little grunts of pain interrupting him every five seconds before the transition as you said. 😭 IM GOING CRAZY JUST THINKING ABOUT IT. Dottore makes quick work of the enemies while reader is panting and gasping for air before laughing it off and then explaining his kit between wheezes, and also making their own silly commentary ("Dottore's Elemental Skill can- ouch that looks like it hurt..." 'Ack, Dottore stop killing them so quickly! I can't *cough* speak that fast...") And, it would be funny if no other party members are shown because these two prefer to work with only themselves, no other. 😭

XEFJBEFH the black screen and all of a sudden you hear a head flick and reader whining... and then Dottore's stern voice about how they didn't need to stay out that long for the sake of the meaningless audience... but reader wanted to show off anyway :3

[str4wberrysw4n]

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 (๑·̀ㅂ·́)و✧

yesterday, my teacher said that we were gonna play a Kahoot! and the top 5 would be able to get munchkins as a prize. Im not sure if I've mentioned this on my blog before but i LOVE sweet things!! so i was determined to do well in this Kahoot.

every time a question came up and i clicked an answer, I basically just told myself "it's right" and pushed back any doubt I had in mind. long story short, i ended up getting 5th place and was called up to get a munchkin. however, as i walked back to my desk, i was proud of myself only for my mind to undermine it immediately by saying

"it's just a small manifestation"

and im here to tell u... THERE'S NO SUCH THINGGG!!

oh my gosh. so many people wonder why their manifestations take incredibly long to form in the 3d,but when they DO manifest something small, they immediately diminish their accomplishments bcuz it's not the "main thing" they want. they're so focused on getting this "big" manifestation, which actually ends up with them sabotaging themselves. why?

first of all, i want to explain why "small" manifestations should be celebrated. imagine: maybe u manifested a top. nothing more, nothing less. but that in it's own right is an incredible feat. u have quite literally imagined something in ur head and watched it project into the physical world due to the power that u hold. a lot of people aren't able to affirm, persist, etc. And simply give up when they don't immediately see results. a result, considered small in the eyes of ur humanity, is a representation of u taking back ur reality and controlling the 4d. which is why i think seperating them into groups of "small" or "big" is, in my opinion, keeping u trapped in the 3d.

in the physical realm that we reside in, we constantly attempt to weigh our options to see which one is better. for example, if u asked the average person, "is billions of dollars more important than a shirt", they would obviously laugh at you and think you're joking or something. It obviously is, at least in the 3d. However, I believe that this weighing and difference in values should not be applied to manifesting. imagine like I said, u manifested a shirt. that's great, BUT, ur trying to manifest a billion dollars -- and while ur kind of grateful for the shirt, u instead focus on how you DIDN'T get the money. because of the values that u have been taught in the 3d, u believe that one less important than the other. when u apply this belief, ur basically telling urself that u have some sort of "low power level" instead of seeing it as proof of ur great potential. it shows that you're still attached to the 3d and what it presents to u, rather than accepting the 4d and being truly grateful that its started to pierce through ur reality.

also, just saying -- i see ppl online call certain manifestations "small", and while i don't agree with it, i understand why they could possibly refer to it as that. looking at where they are in their journey and the things they are "receiving", there's a chance that manifesting a shirt is pretty "small" compared to the things that they've manifested before. this is mostly an issue for like NEW manifestors, like they just started making subliminal playlists a week ago. its a problem i definitely ran into and i feel like it could hold back ur progress. luckily, i was able to understand that even if i called it "small", that it wasn't actually that way.

to sum it up, there isn't anything as a small manifestation, and genuinely considering one more important than the other can limit ur potential as a manifestor!!

once again, this was something i experienced so i wanted to post this for anyone that might need some insight! this is all my opinion btw. happy manifesting!! ヾ(◍°∇°◍)ﾉﾞ

[cashmere-caveman]

read a post about there being next to no record abt the historic edward little again (we dont even know what he looked like!!!) and now im thinking a lot about how he died in uniform again.

hes far from the only character to die in uniform (the marines die in uniform! franklin dies in uniform!) and he isn't even the only lieutenant to do so (gore, under his slops, was in uniform; fairholme, too presumably; irving famously wore his coat that hickey steals later; george wore something that used to be his uniform when he got eaten but imo atp he did not wear it as A Uniform anymore that were just the clothes that he had on if that makes sense) but at the end, he is the only one where i still felt that it was an active choice to wear it.

almost everyone else sheds their layers along the way or turns into something else, but ned starts in uniform and he stays in uniform and that's it.

fitzjames famously sheds his vanity and dies in his shirtsleeves, without any of the pomp and pizzazz of his uniform.

jopson, another character who is to me really connected with a certain mindset of holding up appearances, dies in his shirtsleeves, believing himself abandoned by the very person that was his reason to even wear a uniform at all.

goodsir as a doctor/assistant surgeon doesn't really have a uniform in quite the same sense as many others but when he dresses himself before his suicide it is not as an affirmation of his role, or at least not a positive one. he has sworn to do no harm, but he was forced to do it anyway and now he will add a final evil to his toll of sins in the hopes to balance the scales at least somewhat and for that to work, he must wear his outfit as always. he ends up with all pretenses stripped bare anyway.

tozer, a man so proud of his uniform in the beginning, again, dies in his shirtsleeves, no rank left, betrayed by someone who had convinced him to give up everything and yet! reduced to nothing but an ordinary man, he tries again where before he had given up. he cooperates, he coordinates, he even calls crozier captain again, he tries very hard to do the right thing in what looks like a no win scenario from the get go!! and he fails, of course, but he tried.

almost everyone else also ends up either dressed down (bridgens, armitage, dundy, des voeux etc) or somehow transformed (blanky, to some extend silna with her patched and bloody furs) or in hickeys case, both (iconic underwear & greatcoat combo). little never changes. he sometimes has a little scarf, theres the bandage for his headwound for a bit, he sometimes wears the full parade uniform with epaulettes and sometimes just the regular one, there are at least two different uniform hats and ofc you can tell that he loses weight by the way his shape chages under all that wool but he is always. in. uniform.

and maybe this is just my mind making up dots to connect but i think he might even be the last character that crozier ever gives an order to in his official function as a captain (in the tuunbaq seduction/boss fight scene he has been stripped of his rank, at least according to e.c.).

before his final scene, all we get is little arguing over the orders they are given, and how to interpret them. and he is still wearing his uniform!!! wait hold on im not gonna check but maybe he might only wear a jumper in the tent where dundy lauches his soft mutiny actually, so maybe this whole post is crumbling like a domino line but!!! ignoring this. moving on. (even if it is a jumper i remember him wearing sth dark blue aka Uniform Colour so im claiming it doesnt even matter bc spiritually that hypothetical jumper still is a uniform. im not going to let anything like "accuracy" and "real details" fuck up my post smh 🙄. im joking. however! Moving On as i said) (edit: i rewatched the scene and it IS his uniform actually, just v rumpled. going insane btw)

he doesnt even dress up for carnivale! the only other characters that are not in costume are jopson and crozier and they were literally too busy keeping crozier from dying to even begin thinking about joining the communal arts and crafts session! little is atp the acting no2 of the expedition so u might say he was busy but fitzjames has the overall command and still finds time to have a little gender moment in private and the imperialism-approved version of it for the Big Crowd!! (u could ofc argue that fitzy Always has time for a gender moment and who would i be to argue but my point is: i have no doubt that man was fucking busy preparing carnivale & beginning to prepare the walkout and there still was time to Express Some Character!! so how come ned didn't do anything?)

the one other scene we get where we can catch a small glimpse of characters out of their element before it all unravels (pre tuunbaq attack on the camp) is the scene at night when morfin gets shot. it shows lots of characters in various states of undress (silna big blanket burrito i love you) that allows us to see them differently, like their costumes at carnivale did, but in an entirely opposite direction. while carnivale was about putting on masks, this scene is about taking them off. and it drives me insane because i know that little must be there. he is somewhere in the crowd when morfin gets shot but so far i havent been able to make him out and i need to know what he is wearing so bad. it is actually for science (my own curiosity) ! i really need to know. and i cant help but feel that maybe it is intentional that he is just ~somewhere~ instead of In Front of the Fucking Camera because, well. that would be just ned little, wouldnt it? and we dont even know who that is.

[ranhaitanisgf]

aaaaaAAAAA CONGRATS ON 2K !! IM SO HAPPY & PROUD OF YOUUUUU ILYSM YOU DONT KNOW HOW MYCH I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR HCS 🗣!!

ofc i HAD to join on this event 🤩 may i have a scenario for “oblivious ‘best friends’ “ & “getting sick” with inui? where reader FINALLY realizes that inui actually cared for her more than a friend would ? preferably fluff 🛐 TQSM LOVE I APPRECIATE IT [cry] <3

— inui [inupi] seishu // obvlivious best friends // getting sick

[𖤐] ANON THATS SO SWEET !!!! im sorry for disappearing for so damn long !!! i hopeeee yall enjoy this, as i went wayyyy over word limit once again !! i also rewrote this like two hundred million times cuz i was struggling w the vibes idk ... anywho. enjoy my loveliessss xoxooooo

wc ; 1.7k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

inui was worried. 

well, he wasn’t sure that that was quite the word to sum up how he was feeling at the moment, but it was the best he could come up with at the moment. 

his worry had started around a week ago, when you had stopped showing up to toman meetings. it was highly unusual, since even though you took on more of a strategic role rather than a fighting role, you still would attend every meeting to offer your input on different issues and how to solve them. you prided yourself on your intellect and being able to strategize, so the first day you hadn’t shown up, it was already ringing alarm bells in his mind. 

after the second, third, and fourth day, inui was sure that something terrible had happened, and somehow nobody had told him. however, even after asking around all the divisions, and even mikey himself, he concluded that nobody had a clue as to where you were. every time he tried to call your cell, it went straight to voicemail, and all the texts that he sent were still on delivered. 

and so now, as any best friend would do, he showed up at your apartment. 

he had visited a couple times in the last week, repeatedly pressing your doorbell and knocking on the door for what seemed like forever. he didn’t want to intrude into your home, but his worry was getting to its peak, so, as an normal person would do, he decided to break your door down. 

sure, he felt pretty guilty about it, especially since your landlord would probably give you hell about it, but the pros outweighed the cons in this situation. 

pros: he gets to see if you’re safe. 

cons: your landlord gets angry and increases your rent, your door is broken until it gets fixed, your neighbors will be upset (maybe), you might get kicked out of your apartment. 

yeah, in his mind, the pro outweighed the cons. 

with a strong kick, inui swiftly kicked beneath the handle of your door. as expected, it wasn’t the strongest thing, so it opened rather easily, even having the courtesy to stay on the hinges. 

“(y/n)?” his voice rang throughout your apartment, feeling a bit on edge at how messy everything was.

 had someone broken in and kidnapped you? did you get robbed and they ended up abducting you? what if-?

“what…the fuck.” inui’s jumbled thoughts cleared up the moment he heard your voice, (was it a bit more raspy than usual?). you had emerged from your bedroom, a blanket heaped over your shoulders as you blankly stared at him. 

“(y/n)...” without much thinking, inui took a couple hasty steps forward and wrapped his arms around you, relief flooding through him. “do you have any idea how worried i’ve been? why didn’t you pick up any of my calls?” you sniffled a bit in his embrace, making him step back a bit to get a better look at you. 

your eyes were rimmed red, and now that he was paying more attention, he realized that you were really warm. your hair was quite a mess, and despite the thick blanket that you were holding over your shoulders, you seemed to be shivering. 

“well, that’s ‘cause my cell’s been dead and i haven’t charged it.” you jerked a thumb over at the living room couch, which your dead cell phone was laying on. “what’re you even doing here though? did you break the door?” your eyes wandered behind him, seeing your door wide open, looking back at inui as he froze a bit at the question. 

“yeah…i’ll pay for a new one. is this why you haven’t been responding? because you’re sick?” 

“i think you’re smart enough to answer that question yourself.” you mumbled, turning around and walking back to your bedroom. “now, if you’ll excuse me, ‘m gonna go back to sleep…” after taking another couple steps though, you felt yourself stumbling as your vision began to blur. 

your wavering frame was steadied by two arms at your shoulders, quickly leading you to sit down on the edge of your bed. as your vision came back, you noticed inui kneeling in front of you, his brows pinched together with worry as he slipped his cool hand onto your forehead. 

“you’ve had this high of a fever this whole time?” 

“yep…” you could barely keep your eyes open at this point, your head bobbing up and down as you tried to stay awake. 

“hm…just go back to sleep.” 

“will do…” you mumbled, flopping back onto your bed and getting under your blankets. 

inui looked down at you as you passed out almost immediately, feeling worried and a little bit betrayed. why hadn’t you called him? had you been taking care of yourself this whole time? 

he settled onto the edge of your bed, carefully pushing some strands of hair out of your face. gently, he pulled some of your blanket up, tucking you in, the corners of his lips turning up as you buried yourself deeper in the blanket. 

cute…

--

“...up…(y/n)...wake up…” you groaned at the subtle shaking of your body, turning over to try and go back to sleep. “(y/n)? just wake up for a few minutes and you can go back to sleep.” the smell of something good wafted through the air, which was enough to make you slowly open one eye, turning back over.

inui was above you, leaning over as he made sure you were awake. his blue eyes became a bit softer when you finally opened both of your own eyes, staying over you for a moment more than was necessary before leaning back. carefully, he handed you a small bowl of rice, a fried egg on top of it with some soy sauce, handing you a pair of chopsticks. 

“you should eat if you want to get your strength back.” you dug in without another word; the most you had been surviving on in the past week was crackers and cheese, since that was the only thing you were able to eat without doing any sort of cooking. 

however, your eating paused when you felt inui pushing some of your hair to the side, unpeeling a cold pack and carefully sticking it to your forehead. he was a little bit closer than he probably needed to be; you could see the flecks of green in his blue irises, his eyebrows still pinched together a little bit as he looked at you. 

ba-dump!

now that you were a little bit more awake, you became quite conscious of how messy your hair was, and even more so noticing how sweaty and gross you were. your fingers ran through your hair, trying your best to take some of the tangles out as you looked to the side, embarrassment flooding through you. you hadn’t called anyone on purpose; you hadn’t exactly wanted anybody to see you like this. 

“er, thanks…” 

“...” 

“...seishu…?” you questioned, feeling a bit awkward as he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. he looked back at you from his seat on the edge of your bed, a somewhat faraway look in his eyes. 

“hm?” 

“uhm, are you alright…?” at your question, inui opened his mouth, then closed it again, seeming to be thinking about something. he mulled over it for a few more moments, the silence feeling just a tad awkward, before he started to speak again. 

“i wish you had called me.” he said, a tone of hurt in his voice. “i was worried that something may have happened to you…and even if you’re just sick, i just…” inui paused, fiddling a bit with a piece of his hair as his ears turned a bit pink. “...i wish that you would rely on me more.” he sighed, his head pulling down a bit as he stared at the ground. 

the straightforwardness of his words caught you wholly off guard; you had not been expecting that sort of response from him. 

you felt some guilt flood through you at seeing his sadness, laying your chopsticks across your bowl as his words echoed through your head. you supposed that you probably should have just let him know that you were sick instead of trying to disappear for a week or two, since you probably would have also been worried if he had tried to pull a stunt like that. 

“i’m sorry…i just didn’t want anybody to see me like this. i don’t exactly look the best right now, so-” 

“you look good.” 

“...” you stared at the boy seated next to you, trying to find any sort of lie in his eyes. instead, he just kept looking back at you with the most honesty in his eyes, a slight smile across his lips. “you’re a weirdo…” you murmured, feeling your heart skip a beat when you realized that he seemed to be serious with his words, (was your face feeling hot because of your fever?). 

inui didn’t reply to your half-hearted words, instead taking the bowl from your hands and placing it on your bedside table. 

“you should get some rest.” you stayed sitting up for a moment, your eyes tracing over all his fluid movements. his blue eyes suddenly flicked back to you, the eye contact finally breaking the trance you seemed to be in, making you immediately lay back down and cover the bottom half of your face with your blankets. despite the embarrassment you were suddenly feeling, there was also a giddy feeling you felt as you watched inui adjust your blankets, making sure that you were all covered up. 

“are you going to leave?” 

please say no.

“well, no…your door doesn’t close now, and i’m not going to leave you here to let just anybody walk in.” 

“oh, right. forgot about that…” you giggled a bit at inui’s sheepish expression as he stood up, clearing off your bedside table and standing up. 

“get better soon, (y/n).” there was a small smile on his face as he exited, gently closing your door behind him. when you were sure he was gone, you couldn’t help the euphoric smile that spread across your face, pulling your blankets a bit over your face. 

did that really just happen!?

[skelliko]

If requests are open, may I make a request for kazutora, chifuyu and baji playing UNO with their s/o and they keep getting spammed with draw +6 cards and +10 cards by s/o who is a UNO master. Who is the most competitive out of the three?

(Also the one im reffering to is UNO: show 'em no mercy. The one where it Includes: 168 x Cards including Wild Draw 6, Wild Draw 10, Skip Everyone, Discard All & Wild Colour Roulette Card).

ask and you shall receive :) I swear the hardest part about writing these is making sure that each one gets roughly the same amount of points, sometimes not even the amount, it's just making sure their all on the same page too and half the time I cant think.

★-Tokyo revengers

- playing Uno with them, show no mercy

๑-featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji

°- kazutora hanemiya

• he was confident at the beginning saying how "this game will be easy" "I'd win for sure" not knowing that uno seems to always have your luck stored at the perfect amount

• he'd try to cheat by taking a quick glimpse of your cards, that's why sometimes he takes too long to draw his cards cause he's taking his time in finding a good moment when you're not looking

• half way through he'd become salty, reallyyyy salty to the point whenever you'd place down any sort of card that gives you a high advantage and kazutora a disadvantage he'd give you a look of displeasure for a good 3 seconds

• he'd curse a few times and make little comments but nothing too major, if anything it'd be under his breath quietly (unlike Baji)

• however he'd be passive aggressive "hope you fall down the stairs next time in public and I'm there to witness it, I won't catch you I'd just watch" with a straight face and almost zero emotion in his voice (he fully well doesn't mean it) but his bluntness was just a facade cause after he saw your reaction he couldn't help but crack a smile and laugh a little

• whenever he'd place down a pick up card of his he'd hold a proud smile and look at you as if he's accomplished something great but his smile would immediately fall the second you place down a +10 "WHAT!?" his sole shattered

• he wins occasionally but knowing that you're a lot better at the game than he is even though it all revolves around luck with the cards and how you use them, that doesn't bring his ego up at all, sometimes he thinks you went easy on him and that'd be when the rounds are longer

• when it came to the card 'discard all' he'd be in disbelief of the power that card holds, all of the same coloured card that you once held were down down in the pile. kazutora couldn't tell which cards he hates more, that one or the +6 / +10

• sometimes you both end up bickering but in a humorous kind of way, going back and forth in-between laughter about who's right about the rules and who's wrong to the point where the only way for you to carry on the game was to make up rules (truthfully who goes by the actual rules?)

• in that time despite him being salty he didn't care all that much about who wins, but as time went on his mind changed and in the middle of taking a little break of playing he tried to understand all the cards and how to play smart even with you sitting in the same room

• at the end of it knowing that he wouldn't be able to win he randomly and calmly got close to you dropping his cards down without wanting to finish the game, he'd then playfully tackle you down with a smile "I give up"

°- chifuyu matsuno

• he can be quite competitive to a certain extent but majority of the times he's having fun

• he'd stare at you as you're placing cards down one after another almost in disbelief and confusion "where the fuck do you keep getting those cards from?!" in that very moment as he shamefully picked up a card from the side deck, he knew he wouldn't be able to win

• he HATES getting the colour switch up cause he never happens to have the right colour and he'd have to pick up more cards than needed, he'd pick up one and it wont be the right colour still, picks up another- nope. his luck with the colours is nonexistent and he gets frustrated with that quite easily and honestly it can get funny with his comments

• "WHERE'S THE RED CARDS!?"

• "I swear to god if I don't get a green card I will jump out that window" he'd make little sarcastic jokes

• because of that he always shuffles the cards twice the amount of time than needed to make sure that all the cards and colours are evened out but even with that he sometimes has to draw 4 cards just to get the one he needs - cause of that he loves the 'discard all' card when he has it in his possession

• he wouldn't help but smile when he thinks he gets good cards and when you'd ask about it he'd go "nothinnggg" all smugly and holding his smile proudly, but of course his pride would be shattered from your card

• hes the type of person to yell out "Uno" loudly and all happily too

• he would take any opportunity to place down his good cards but the second he places them down he regrets it cause he acted rationality and that always benefited you instead of him

• "I don't know how you do it, but I've never met anyone who's as good at uno as you"

• once he had his final loss he'd roll his head back and sigh out a little annoyed, but then he'd smile at you and fling a card at you which then created a little playful card fight making the floor to be scattered with uno cards

°- Baji Keisuke

• at first he didn't seem all that interested, but as the game went on Baji would be the most competitive and determined to win

• definitely would try to cheat, either by taking a glimpse of your cards or try to place a random card of his down when you're not looking

• he'd be swearing and cussing you out for sure but also try to humor it, "oh fuck off with that" "you think your so funny? I will eat those cards and you'll never see them again" "you mother fucker"

• when you'd place down a pick up card of the same colour twice or more Baji would make up new rules, "that's not allowed" "no you can't do that" just so he could buy time and hopefully have a glimpse at your cards even if it means to bicker for a good minute

• after a few slow rounds in the beginning the matches would begin to end more quickly due to the determination of winning, card after card would be placed down as the game would be engraved in both of your minds

• you both would carry on playing over and over until there's a clear winner, sometimes you'd win and so would he but Baji would never give up at all, though in the end you happened to have the most wins and Baji would be a little salty about that for the rest of the day

• in his mind the next time you both play uno he's gonna hide away majority of the pick up cards that way he'd have a higher chance of winning (cheater)

• he'd be a sore loser like a child "no you're not getting a kiss" but in the end you always happen to get more than one

• throughout any given time of the day he would challenge you to a game of Uno, he'd place the deck of cards Infront of you without a word and almost expect you to play, all because he wants to beat your win-streak

• "I'm beating your win-streak whether you like it or not"

 ♡---