#compet for who tops ya know

[sy5tem3rr0r]

I wish we get to see guys as a top more in the game tbh I mean... most of the times he's the bottom he's being raped but then there's Vallewida's route and he gives such top vibes.... don't judge me I like seme shotas.... plus guys is more seme-like than shion and I know I'm right

[captain-hawks]

patience

soshiro hoshina x f!reader

It's more than a little difficult to hide your attraction to the Vice-Captain of the Third Division when you accidentally find yourself sparring with him in your pajamas in the middle of the night. Especially when he's wearing that goddamn shirt.

wc: 4k

c: 18+ ONLY, smut, slight power imbalance, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), edging, unprotected p in v

“You get sloppy when you’re tired.”

A knee digs into the back of your own as you find yourself pinned face down on the training mats, the steady grip of a hand trapping both of your wrists against the small of your back. The vice-captain’s voice is tinged with amusement as he lets you go, easily dodging the kick you send his way as you roll in the opposite direction and jump to your feet, breathing hard.

“Fuck you,” you pant out, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

He raises an eyebrow.

“—Vice-Captain Hoshina,” you finish, offering him a patronizing smile.

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Hoshina begins to circle you slowly, “Officer Furuhashi had to do seventy pushups last week for that, ya know.”

While he’s not wrong about your sloppy footwork, the late hour is hardly the top contender of blame for your piss-poor performance in this impromptu sparring match.

Rather, the real issue at hand is the workout shirt that Hoshina’s currently wearing, the black, skin-tight material leaving little to the imagination as it clings to his firm, defined abdomen. 

Clad in nothing but your pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you had made the mistake of slowing down to peek into the slightly ajar door to the training room on your way back to the dorms, curious who was still awake at such a late hour. Your breath had hitched at the sight of the vice-captain working through a series of complex sword maneuvers by himself, mouth going dry as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of his bare hands and arms—features normally obscured by his suit on the field—and that goddamn shirt.

Naturally, he’d spotted you lingering and cajoled you inside, mouth curving sideways in a smirk as he reminded you of a few glaring mistakes you’d made earlier during training with the squad.

Now, your level of exhaustion is a moot point when it’s all you can do to reign in the traitorous swell of desire building in your chest as the sleeves of his shirt dig into his biceps each and every time he moves. The muscle that keeps fighting against the high neck of his shirt isn’t helping, either. 

This heady, insistent tug you feel toward him, this dizzying, smoldering attraction that has a penchant for clouding your better judgment—it’s nothing new. Your eyes developed this unfortunate habit of instinctually straying to the vice-captain the day he volunteered to give you a tour of the base when you transferred to the Third Division, a problem that only increased tenfold the first time you had a front row seat to his…competency in dual swordsmanship.

(It’s borderline embarrassing—the way even thinking about him wielding those blades sets your heart racing.)

You’ve learned to ignore it, despite the flirtatious undercurrent to each and every interaction you share.

And yet—sparring alone with him right now while the rest of the base sleeps, sweat dripping down your back as your skin burns all over with the ghost of his touch, seeing this stripped down version of one of the Defense Force’s most lethal weapons in a moment that feels far more intimate than it has any right to be…it’s difficult to remember why you should.

Hoshina uses his forearm to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, tongue darting out along his bottom lip, and a subtle shudder runs through you as you track the unconscious movement. Unfortunately, his keen eyes don’t miss the trajectory of your waning focus, and he takes advantage of the opening, the room quickly spinning as you find yourself on the floor beneath him once again.

This time, you’re lying on your back, both hands pinned above your head, his fingers incidentally laced with your own. Hoshina’s wide-eyed and panting, and you can tell you at least accomplished something—he clearly hadn’t been intending to hit the floor with you until your survival instincts kicked in enough to gracelessly drag him down on top of you. 

As you go to pull free, you find something solid pressed between your legs, and it’s an effort in and of itself to stifle your gasp at the feeling that instantly curls hotly in your gut at the friction. Belatedly, you reorient yourself to find that you had hooked your left leg around his waist during the fall, and the firm wall of muscle that you’re two seconds from accidentally dry humping is his thigh that’s slotted between your legs.

Hoshina’s face sobers as he stares down at you, and you swear you feel his fingers flex minutely against your own, his expression now unreadable. 

Seemingly continuing his earlier thought, he muses, “Well, I guess I get sloppy when I’m distracted.” Your heart thunders in your chest as you find yourself balancing precariously on the tightrope of what could very well be an incredibly bad decision. 

If you were smart, you’d let this moment pass.

If you were smart, you’d tap out and tell him you’re going to bed, letting out the rest of your frustration with a hand between your legs, your soft, quiet moans muffled by the spray of the shower water or the layers of your duvet.

But the words are wrestling their way past your teeth before you can stop yourself as you ask, “What could possibly distract the vice-captain of the Third Division?”

He laughs under his breath, and for a wild moment, you think he’s about to kiss you when he leans in, but his lips skirt the shell of your ear instead as he murmurs, “You don’t normally wear this when we’re trainin’ with everyone else.”

Hoshina’s lower half nudges you slightly for emphasis, his hands still occupied by your own, and you belatedly realize—with embarrassment—that you’re the one now essentially holding them in the grip of your fingers. However, the thought is quickly replaced by another jolt of pleasure as the movement presses his thigh just a hair more firmly against the heat between your legs.

At the slight widening of his eyes, you also realize something else—that soft, little moan in your head wasn’t so silent after all. 

He tilts his head and sighs, “You make this real difficult for me sometimes.”

You’re far too aware of every place your bodies are touching.

“What do I make difficult?” you ask carefully, surprising yourself with your boldness. 

He regards you with a look like you should already know what he’s referring to. “Ignoring the things I think about when I’m around you.”

Your mouth goes dry, a polar opposite to the arousal now soaking into your panties. “Maybe you should stop ignoring them,” you whisper before you can think better of it. 

Hoshina groans, fingers tightening around yours, eyes falling shut. “Don’t say that.”

Freeing one of your hands from their entanglement with his, you reach up, pushing his dark violet locks out of his face. “Why not?”

He leans in, mouth so close to yours you can feel the heat of his exhales as he murmurs, “Cause I might be the vice-captain of this division, but I’m not above fucking you right here on the floor.”

Heat sears insistently in your lower abdomen, and you shift just enough to press into him again. He audibly breathes out through his nose, and you tilt your head slightly askew as you stare up at him. “Are you asking me to beg, then?”

You’re suddenly very grateful to have unconsciously pulled the door shut behind you when you walked in, given that this training room can only be opened from the outside with an authorized key fob after hours.

Hoshina laughs a little incredulously under his breath, tongue curling against the inside of his cheek. “I’ll make you a deal.”

You raise a brow, imploring him to continue.

“We’ll forget about those pushups for that mouth of yours, but…” he trails off, one finger ghosting over your lips. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”

It’s instant—the way your brain briefly short circuits as you take in the full meaning of his words.

“I—what?”

He smirks. “You might be one of the most talented officers in this division, but your patience could really use some work.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

Smiling up at him sweetly, you shift so that your leg presses against the erection noticeably tented at the front of his pants. “Then teach me.”

You’re not prepared for it—the way all of the air leaves your lungs when Hoshina’s lips come crashing into yours. There’s no pretense to the way he claims your mouth, swallowing down the tiny little gasp that crawls up your throat, one hand cupping the side of your neck as the other reaches out to pin both of yours back to the floor. You push back a little, just for the thrill that arches down your spine when he tightens his grip, pinning you down even harder. 

His tongue dances along the seam of your lips, thumb stroking the sensitive spot where your neck meets your jaw, and he groans a little when you part them, deepening the kiss. A blistering wave of arousal floods your veins as Hoshina does what can only be described as fucking his way into your mouth with his tongue, and you’re helpless to control how eagerly you take him in. Truthfully, you’ve never felt quite so turned on over the taste of someone else’s saliva, so desperate to feel the filthy, slick slide of their tongue and lips slotting and tangling with your own.

It takes you a minute to realize that you’ve started grinding against his thigh, but clearly he’s well aware, because as soon as you stop, he murmurs against your mouth, “Go ahead, keep going.”

Compiling without hesitation, you drag your clothed pussy down against the friction of his leg once more, and he bites down on your lip as you moan at the delicious sensation. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks coyly.

You nod, losing any lingering senses of embarrassment over dry humping your vice-captain’s leg as you observe the way his pupils are blown wide with lust, gasping and panting as you rut against him even harder. Panties damp with arousal, you wouldn’t be surprised to find a wet spot forming against his pants, as you can already feel the surplus of sticky fluid dripping down your ass cheeks. 

You could come like this.

“Stop.”

Freezing immediately at the tone of Hoshina’s voice, you open your half-lidded eyes to stare up at him, lips parted slightly.

“Didn’t say you could come yet,” he reminds you, expression tinged with amusement. “But show me how wet you are.”

He releases your hands, and you nearly whimper when he pulls his knee away, shifting to place his knees on either side of you. He slides both hands down your sides, stopping at your hips, and he trails two fingers along the waistband of your shorts, curling one of the short, loose strings around a digit before continuing his journey down your mound. 

A hum of satisfaction leaves his lips as he feels the way your juices have soaked clear through the little cotton shorts. You whine in frustration when he drags a slow, deliberate circle over your swollen clit through the fabric, rocking your hips upward.

Hoshina looks like he wants to say something, possibly to chide you for your impatient behavior, but clearly the other thought in his head wins out when he slides his hand up the bottom of your shorts and hooks a finger in your underwear, tugging them aside. 

Despite his teasing, the pressure of his fingers through your clothing is still nothing compared to the feather-light touch of his fingers drifting down the length of your slit. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs softly in approval, sliding one digit into your wet hole. 

Your pussy spasms at the sensation, and you moan for him, which only spurs him on further, earning you a second finger. The stretch still isn’t enough, and you buck your hips into his touch eagerly. 

“How the fuck are you so wet,” he mutters, one hand slipping up your shirt to clutch your side as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the lewd, wet squelch contending with the rising volume of your moans.

It’s impressive—how close you are to coming already with just two of his fingers massaging your slick, tight walls, his thumb barely teasing over the bud of your throbbing clit. It’s nearly laughable compared to how long it took the last man who touched you to get you off. 

“You look so pretty when you’re about to come,” Hoshina comments, curling his fingers inside of you, and you gasp.

He swiftly removes them, lips curling upward at the dismayed look on your face as you cant your hips upward into nothing, the wave of pleasure building inside of you unceremoniously crashing at the breakers before reaching the shore. 

“Hoshina,” you whimper, not caring if it sounds a little pathetic as your chest heaves.

“I thought we were working on your patience,” he replies, before sticking your fingers in his mouth and licking your slick arousal clean off of them.

The warmth stirring inside of you turns molten, and your nipples feel achingly hard against the cotton fabric of your t-shirt. When he reaches down to cup your chin, your mouth falls open of its own volition, and you don’t hesitate to take his spit-soaked fingers between your lips instead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out as you suck on the digits, a thin trail of saliva escaping in the process and dribbling past your lips. 

You reach up, threading your fingers into his hair, and you tug his mouth down toward yours. He strays off course, licking the spit from your chin and dragging his tongue across your lips. 

He follows the curve of your jaw with his mouth, lips blazing a trail of kisses down the side of your neck until he begins to nip and suck at your collarbone while his hands slide down to ruck up your t-shirt. He seems pleased by your lack of a bra, eyes darkening at the sight of your plush breasts bared before him. His fingers are precise as they cup one, thumb slowly dragging across your peaked nipple before he leans in and laps at the supple, sensitive skin. 

You arch upward into his touch, gasping out his name, and he groans, taking your peaked bud into his mouth. Despite the fact that you know he won’t let you finish, you reach between your legs anyway, keening as you dip two fingers into your empty, wet cunt while Hoshina turns his attention to filthily sucking on your other breast. Legs spreading wider against the cage of his own, you plunge a third finger in, and Hoshina makes a displeased sound, mouth abandoning your tits to trail down your stomach. 

“D’you think of me when you touch yourself?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice, his hands gently pulling yours away from between your legs before sliding off your shorts and panties. 

“Maybe,” you pant out, fingers now pressing down into the soft mats beneath you.

“Maybe?” he echoes, nose brushing against your clit.

He pauses, and you can feel the warm huff of air that hits your slit as you whimper a strangled “Yes” when he lazily begins to slide a single finger back into your needy cunt. 

Another fresh thrill of arousal shudders through you as he calmly replies, “Good girl,” before he spreads your legs even wider and drags his tongue through your folds.

You blink back the spots from the bright ceiling lights that dance against your eyelids as your entire body arches upward off of the mats, the grip of his hands on the globes of your ass the only thing keeping you grounded as Hoshina groans lewdly at the taste of your pussy, lapping another broad, hungry stroke, 

You’d do anything to come at this point, tears now pricking at the corners of your eyes as another blazing hot onslaught of pleasure trickles through your limbs, ruthlessly dragging you toward the edge.

He abruptly stops again, his lips covered in the slick sheen of your arousal when he looks up at you.

“Hoshina, please,” you whimper.

“Soshiro,” he exhales roughly, hips aligning with yours as he makes his way up your body to press a wet, filthy kiss to your lips.

“Soshiro,” you repeat a little breathlessly, and he kisses you again, more roughly this time. 

You can feel his thick erection as it presses down against your naked mound through his pants, and there’s little you can do to hold back your urge to roll your hips upward, dragging your wet, naked heat along his shaft. 

“Soshiro,” you say again, more desperately this time, and he groans, grinding back down against you with more fervor at the sound of his name on your lips. 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, your fingers fumble with the button of his pants, and he’s quick to take over, making quick work of the zipper. He guides your hand to his dick, wrapping your fingers around its thick girth as he asks, “You wanna feel this inside of you?”

The mere suggestion makes your woefully empty walls clench, and you can feel a fresh dribble of arousal leak from you. Giving his cock a few experimental pumps, you nod feverishly.

“Put it in then,” he murmurs, and there’s something undeniably erotic about the way he lazily stares down at you, waiting.

You guide his shaft toward your slick cunt, rejoicing just a bit in the slight shudder that wracks through him as you rub the flushed, leaking head of his cock against your slippery folds, his precum mixing with the lubrication of your wet juices.

If you thought you were desperate to come on his fingers and tongue, the heady buzz of need that’s been steadily buzzing inside of you is nothing compared to the gushing flood of desperation at the feeling of Hoshina’s length splitting you open. You’re a little too tight for him, but it feels so good—the way he replaces your hand with his own to stuff his cock the rest of the way inside of you. Your cunt greedily clenches down on each inch until you’re suddenly empty again. 

Hoshina—Soshiro—fucks like he fights: all teasing, taunting confidence. Every move he makes is pointed, purposeful. So you know he’s left you woefully empty now solely to bask in your frustrated reaction, just to hear your subsequent gasp of pleasure when he plunges back inside of you once more. 

You’re so fucking sensitive right now, it’s ridiculous—white-hot bursts of pleasure ignite in your abdomen with every little push and drag of the shape of his cock against the plush, tight grip of your cunt. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hisses, exhaling roughly as he pulls out of you entirely once more, firmly gripping the base of his cock like he’s just as close to coming as you are.

Leaning down, Hoshina drags his lips across yours in some messy approximation of a kiss, his breath hot against your cheek as his mouth veers off. Turning your head to the side, you nip at his bottom lip, and he molds his mouth to yours, tongue slipping into your mouth. 

Your muscles tense with anticipation as you feel the heavy weight of his cock pressing against your cunt, your ass lifting off of the mat to chase the friction with brazen need. But Hoshina’s hand slips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his shaft, and he positions himself lengthwise with your slit. 

Any sounds of protest promptly die in your throat, only to be replaced by a wanton moan that Hoshina swallows down as he deepens the kiss while he begins to roll his hips, sliding his throbbing cock up and down through your drenched, sticky folds. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, fingers digging into his back as you writhe beneath him, nearly seeing stars each time the head of his dick catches against your sensitive, swollen clit.

There’s a thin line of spit between your lips as he breaks the kiss, watching you burn from the inside out with relentless, intoxicating tremors of pleasure.

“Not yet,” Hoshina murmurs, slowing the rocking of his hips as he lines himself with your quivering entrance once more. “When I make you come, it’ll be on my cock.”

When he buries himself inside of you this time, you choke out a sob, the ache between your thighs reaching a fever pitch as he stuffs your pussy full to the hilt. And you swear he must feel the way your cunt is gripping him—begging him to stay buried deep inside of you, to finally let you cream all over his cock—because he sounds wrecked as he roughly moans your name against your mouth.

One of his hands slides along your arm, fingertips lacing with yours as the other cups your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, eyes wide, his hair far more mussed than you’ve ever seen it on the battlefield.

Despite the protest of your trembling, tightly-wound limbs, you wrap your legs around his waist, keening as you use the heel of your foot to press him even deeper inside of you and pant out, “Harder.”

He doesn’t hesitate to oblige, his steady strokes turning rough when he begins to pound into you, a litany of curses tumbling from his lips as your tits shake with each snap of his hips. 

You’re so fucking close—and you know he feels it, how fucking badly you want to give in to this torrential downpour of pleasure that’s threatening to drag you under.

“Come for me,” he finally commands in a sultry, gravelly tone that you’re certain will fucking haunt your wet dreams for years to come. 

It’s not difficult to obey—not when your entire body has been reduced to a dripping, trembling, desperate coil of tension, slipping along the tightrope of a tauntingly close climax for far too long. Shockwaves of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt grip every nerve ending from head to toe as your climax erupts, and Hoshina’s groan is downright filthy as he feels your pussy gush all over his cock.

“Shit,” he pants out, muscles tensing hard as you ride out your orgasm, eyes falling shut while your cunt spasms and contracts against his shaft. “Shit, shit.”

You’ve only just finished when he quickly pulls his cock from your quivering hole and groans loudly, barely giving his shaft half a stroke before ropes of hot, thick cum are spurting all over your bare chest, spilling all over your tits.

It’s quiet as he sits there kneeling between your spread legs, chest heaving just as hard as yours as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened. Subtly, you reach down to pinch your thigh, not quite convinced your late night waltz to the kitchen wasn’t just the product of a fucked up dream. 

Hoshina shrugs off his shirt, hardly giving you time to ogle what the hell he’s been hiding beneath there before he begins wiping his cum off of your chest. When he’s finished, he stands, and you slip back into your clothes as you watch him ball up his soiled shirt and grab his jacket. 

He pulls you to your feet, and the way his hands slide down your sides to smooth down your wrinkled t-shirt is oddly intimate, his fingers straying lower to briefly toy with the hem of your shorts. Instead of putting on his jacket to make up for his lack of a shirt, he reaches around you to settle it over your shoulders, the familiar, dizzying scent that you’ve come to associate with him enveloping your senses. 

–

And when you accidentally wear his jacket to training the next morning, you find what must be a spare key card to his room left nestled in one of the pockets. 

There’s a coy smile on his lips when he spots you staring down at the white piece of plastic, shrugging before he returns his attention to the rest of the gathered officers. 

[lanabuckybarnes]

| Dinner Distraction |

18+ Minors DNI

Dinners with Bucky’s clients can be mind numbingly boring. After trying your hardest to be good for him the lack of entertainment is getting to you, all you need is to gome with your husband but hes making it hard for you. So you play the only way you know how.

✧Pairing✧ Mafia Boss!Bucky x Wife!Reader

✧Warnings✧ alcohol consumption, Brat!Reader, Public teasing, Voyeurism (not really but to be sure), Bondage, Rope tying, Collar, Punishments, Alluding to spanking, Masturbation (M), DIrty talk, Daddy kink, Name calling, Degrading, Humilation (itty bitty), [Petnames; Dove, Angel, Whore, Brat, Baby] — I believe that is all, any more that you find please let me know so that I can add them onto this list.

✧Word Count✧ 1.5K

✧Author Note✧ The writers block has been hitting me hard so i really hope this is up to scratch because ya boy has been struggling to enjoy her own writing lmao. Also please forgive any mistakes as I have skimmed over this — I may look at it again later and fix them or I might just leave it. Who knows.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you were playing with fire. Bucky’s meals were extravagant and over the top but extremely important to his business, a long table full of men and their ladies all wishing to discuss deals and arrangements with your husband. But to you, they were like watching paint dry. You downed your third wine listening to incredibly dull trips to the Maldives or men competing passive aggressively for the title of wealthiest idiot at the table.

By the time dessert rolled around you could’ve cried due to lack of entertainment, not even Bucky’s conversation was keeping you satisfied and with no excitement seemingly on the horizon you took matters into your own hands.

“Buck” you trill into your husband’s ear, trailing manicured nails up the thickness of his thigh before he rests his veiny hand on top of it halting your path to the finishing line between his legs. The brunette turned, flashing you a soft pearly white smile and kissing your cheek, murmuring about how beautiful you looked. Just when you thought you had your man’s attention he averted his gaze back to the balding man and his much younger bride. The things money could buy

You huff, a teeny kiss wasn’t good enough. You’d have to pull out the big guns.

“Bucky” you whine in his ear, making sure your lips brushed over the shell. With a quick look at the man, he excused himself from the conversation and turned to you again.

“What is it dove?”

The sound of his deep voice rumbling out the petname sent an involuntary shiver down the length of your body.

“I’m bored”

“It won’t be too much longer Angel, then we’ll take you home alright?” He chuckles at the way you bat your eyelashes at him, your lips pushed out in a soft pout which he gladly kisses.

No, it was definitely not alright. You wanted to go home and have fun with your man now, not in an hour. With the way Gemma kept prattling on about her one hundred thousand dollar ring you were sure you wouldn’t even be cognitive enough to breathe in an hour much less do what you wanted alone with Bucky.

“But-“

His blue eyes steeled quickly, his hand squeezing yours with a looming threat,

“No buts Dove, I’m warning you.”

Bucky should’ve known you weren’t one to heed his warnings, he’d spanked your ass raw enough times for him to know that you simply did not care for his threats — in fact, you quite enjoyed the feeling of his handprint on your ass. So why would you listen to him now?

You waited until his guard was down, sipping your drink silently, pretending to listen in on another conversation while he immersed himself back in his. He didn't bat an eye when you moved your laced hands from his lap into yours, your thumb tracing over the webbing veins.

He almost choked when his fingers dipped into something wet and hot, your thighs securing around his wrist telling him all he needed to know. He stood up so quickly that his chair almost fell, startling the guests around him. His hand grabbed at your arm, slick digits pressing into it almost painfully but you only smirked. You were getting what you wanted.

“Sorry for the suddenness but my wife…” he glared over at you, the muscles in his cheek twitching sad he clenched his jaw tight, “isn’t feeling too good. My assistant will reach out to you all about our agreements and the date for our next meal.”

With a wave he commanded all of his men out of the restaurant, each suited man making their way to the blacked-out SUVs parked outside. You stumbled as he dragged you along, his hand dropping to your ass and squeezing tight.

“You are such a fucking little whore, just you wait” It should’ve been embarrassing how wet you got at his growl. The ride home was tense and silent, you remained as still as the air around you, fearing that a single movement would bring about Bucky’s wrath in the backseat of the car. Not that you would’ve minded but you liked the old driver too much to put him through something like that.

Everything blurred as the car parked outside the house, Bucky slipping out first before helping you out too. He dragged you quickly to the huge master bedroom and rummaged around the closet for a box. You gulped at its sight, it could only mean one thing.

You whine, tugging on the pretty pink rope tied expertly around your wrists and thighs, keeping them closed. The rope makes sure your wrists are tied to the length of rope around your thighs so that you can’t touch yourself or Bucky. The bell on your collar rings softly as you lurch a little closer to the man not even a foot away from you.

His legs cage you into your chair, spread wide leading up towards his leaking cock, freed from its confines and dribbling profusely over his navy slacks. He doesn’t seem to care about soiling himself though, his bored eyes bore into you, one hand rests against the side of his head while the other drums against the hardwood of the chair.

“So desperate” he tuts, chastising you for squirming around under his eyes. His thigh knocks into your knee when you move around again.

“Sit still brat. You wanted this, the second you opened that slutty mouth you were begging for it.” He chuckles darkly as you hang your head at the nickname, hiding the deep blush on your cheek and glossy, lust-filled eyes. Bucky had spent years studying you, he could read you like a book; your body may as well have been his own he knew it that well.

The brunette gripped your cheeks in a bruising vice, forcing you to look up at him with pouted lips. Your faces were so close that your nose brushed against his, whining deep in your throat bubbling forth at the minimal contact.

“You keep those fucking eyes on me, at all times. Or I’ll bring out the paddle” he warns and you whimper at the thought. A long dark leather paddle Bucky only used when you misbehaved, he knew you hated it with a passion, not because it hurt but because it didn't have the right shape — you much preferred Bucky’s handprint against your cheek than that thing.

“Aww, don't want the paddle?” He mocks, pouting his lips before laughing and pushing you back into the chair by your face. “You better behave then slut.”

He groans as his big hand wraps around his length, sucking his lip into his mouth at the little pleads and whimpers you let out when he began to jerk himself slowly, almost too slowly but he knew how much you hated it when he played with himself. Especially if you couldn’t help.

“Da-“ you mewl, slumping into your seat when the only response you receive is a sharp grunt as his hand twisted over his raging red tip.

“Fuck baby feels so good. Wish it was your hand — mmm yeah. But bad girls don't get what they want, do they? And I know you fucking want this.” He continued cursing and moaning. His hips thrust up to meet his hand, his eyes squeezing shut and his head lulling back.

“You soaking that fucking chair angel hm? Bet you are, don't even try shaking that head — not that you could — you’re too busy drooling for daddy’s cock ain’t you?” He smiles wickedly at the soft slurping sound you made when you realised you were actually drooling for him.

“Daddy need you please, I’m sorry for teasing you but I was so bored and horny. Needed you so bad…please” you beg, your eyes wide and tits jumping as you bounced in desperation on the chair. Bucky had never met a bigger cock slut, your whimpering and begging shooting straight to his balls, sending him over the edge.

“Ohh shit, fuckfuckfuckfuck” he continued to fist his cock as white-hot pleasure seeped into his veins and out his dick, spurting all over his hand. You sob, mouth opened instinctively but you couldn’t taste it. That’s what you got for being a bad girl.

Bucky wasted no time, standing and making his way to the bathroom. When he returned he was completely clean, save for the stain on his slacks. You wanted to cry at all the cum he wasted when you could’ve had it. Your husband's hand settled on the top of your head, his worst soft and almost intelligible as he cooed his praises.

“There we go angel you did so good” you preen at his sweet nothings, nuzzling your head into him. “But daddy’s still gotta teach you a lesson okay?” With a swift tug, the ropes fell from around your wrists and thighs. He gave you a little minute to rub any pain from them before ordering you around again.

“Turn around, hands on the back of the chair and stick that pretty little ass out for me” he spoke, grunting at the sight of you sitting all obediently, one of his hands spread your cheek wide, giving him the perfect view of your creamy folds.

“Such a horny little baby. That’s alright Daddy will help soon.”

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except this page i have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes and Asks are always appreciated, however if you like this fix please consider reblogging to help it reach a wider audience. They let me know that you are enjoying what i read and give me motivation to write more.

[bigwishes]

Tummy Trouble

Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.

Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.

Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.

"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm

Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.

"eer, hey man"

"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"

"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym

"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"

"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"

"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"

Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.

"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof

"a guy like me?"

"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."

The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"

Connor let out a sigh of relief

"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"

"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"

"I think I got something for you mate, here"

The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.

"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.

Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.

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

Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.

Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.

Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...

"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"

Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.

Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.

"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"

*FWOOOMP

Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.

"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"

Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.

"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"

His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.

He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.

Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.

Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.

Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.

His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.

"oh...god...whats happeneing now"

each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse

"I....god what the fuck"

A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.

"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"

Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.

"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"

the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.

"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...

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

I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.

[mythicalmisery]

Bull Rider AU: GhostxSoap

AO3

Bull rider Ghost and clueless Soap who doesn’t know the hat rule. 

Soap had a stupid smile on his face as he picked up a discarded, black cowboy hat and put it on his head while turning to Gaz. They had been heading back to their seats after a quick snack break when Soap had spotted it, unable to help himself. 

 “Ye think I can pull it off?” he asked grinning, completely unaware of the hulking figure that had appeared at his back only moments later. 

Soap froze at the deep, yet still whispered, “Don’t think that belongs to ya, mate,” spoken right beside his ear. He could feel the other’s hot breath on his skin.

His eyes went wide, pleading, as he looked at Gaz for a lifeline. His friend had the same expression reflecting back at him, unsure what to do either. Without any help from Gaz  Soap turned around.

His eyes met a broad chest clasped in a black leather vest, decorated with various patches of brands and sponsors he had never heard of. He slowly lifted his gaze to the man’s face, or at least what was showing of it. The lower half was covered in a black bandana with a skull design painted onto it.

It was real dusty and the man was clearly one of the riders competing, so Soap didn’t think twice about it. Hell, he wished he had one right now to hide his own embarrassment that was surely written all over his face.

The only thing he could make out underneath the stadium lights were amber eyes and blond lashes that matched his mop of sweat-clumped hair that stuck to his forehead. Those eyes that pinned Soap to where he stood and felt like burning flames licking at his skin.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice coming out dry and crackly despite his efforts. “Sorry mate, didn’t mean to offend anyone,” he tossed out in an attempt of easement.

He grabbed the hat off his head, stretching out his hand and offering it back to its rightful owner. The man didn’t remove his gaze from Soap once as he took his hat back. 

Soap was all too aware he had been holding his breath during the whole interaction. He was hoping the man wasn’t offended by Soap touching his property. A fight was the last thing he needed right now, especially three beers into his night. His internal panicking was interrupted by the stranger’s gruff voice.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell ya not to go ‘round touching things that don’t belong to ya?” Soap took a reflexive step back when the man took a step forward. 

He could still see Gaz out of the corner of his eye, which helped a little knowing he wasn’t alone if things went to shite. Although, he would feel really bad if he made Gaz get into an altercation and ruin their night out due to him being an idiot. 

Soap laughed nervously. “Always seemed to have a problem with authority and rules.”

That had the other raising a brow. “That right?”

There were alarm bells ringing in Soap’s head. The adrenaline pumping through his veins should have been warning enough but he never claimed to be smart. The man glanced over Soap top to bottom, as if he was assessing him. The undivided attention had goosebumps breaking out over Soap’s skin. 

He leaned in closer, invading the already non existent space between them. 

“Do ya know what the hat rule is, mate?” he asked with a smirk, like he already knew Soap didn’t.

“Uh, n-no.” Soap felt like a bumbling idiot. 

The man simply nodded at the answer he was already expecting. He lowered himself until he was looking over Soap’s left shoulder, speaking directly into his ear.

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” 

Soap could feel the heat flood his face like a dam opening. 

Oh fuck.

It was as if Soap’s mind, mouth, and pretty much whole body went offline. He couldn’t seem to get anything to work after the other man’s words had registered. Well, except maybe one body part, that seemed to be working just fine.

After standing frozen like an idiot once again for too long, he somehow managed to stoke the last dying embers of a functioning brain cell and took control over his body once again.

With a nervous laugh he took a staggered step back, his arms outstretched in a placating way. The man wasn’t angry, but fucking hell was he intimidating and Soap needed some space to breath especially after that comment. 

“Oh, well that’s.. uh.. ye know, we really should be getting back to our seats,” he spewed out while grabbing Gaz by the shoulder. Soap didn’t wait for the man to say anything else, leaving him to stand and watch as he scurried away like a coward. 

He made a beeline for their section in the stands, subtly adjusting his now uncomfortably tight pants. He glared at Gaz when he made a comment at his flustered appearance, doing his best to block out his incessant teasing. He felt like he was fifteen years old again, popping boners when the wind blew just a little too strongly.

The announcer came back on over the intercom speakers, introducing the next round of riders as they finally reached their seats. Soap did his best to try and focus on the riders in the dirt down below, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of that man’s breath on his neck, the way his voice was that deep even at a whisper, the way his eyes made his skin feel like it was lit aflame.

And as if God was playing a cruel trick on him, his gaze was drawn to the rider getting ready to mount the bull in queue. It was him. 

He couldn’t make out too many details from this far up, but he was able to spot that familiar mask on the jumbo screen hanging in the center of the arena. The man had his hat on this time. The same hat that Soap had just been wearing. He couldn’t deny it, the man looked good in it. 

The announcer chimed in, getting the crowd going. Gaz leaned over, hitting Soap’s shoulder as he whispered, “There’s your man.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth at his friend’s words. Soap glanced back up to the screen, eyes scanning until he found what he was looking for in big, bold letters. 

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Simon. Fuck. Even his name was hot. 

He looked back down to the roping box, the bull that - Simon? Ghost? - was about to ride. It was fucking massive. He could see it already bucking and ramming the sides of the fence from up in the stands and on the screen, clearly pissed off. 

The anticipation in the arena was electric, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Ghost settled himself on the bull. While the men around him steadied him with their hands,  Soap’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t even know the man but his stomach was twisting into knots. 

He watched as Ghost adjusted his grip on the bull rope and flexed his hand, his muscles tensing under the strain displayed on the big screen.

Soap’s breath stuttered as the gate flew open, the bull exploding out into the arena twisting and bucking with raw power. Ghost moved with fluid precision; the man’s arm raised into the air, his waist snapping back and forth in perfect sync with the bull’s wild movements. Soap couldn’t tear his eyes away, completely captivated by the sight.

The crowd roared around him, cheering and shouting their encouragement as Ghost held on. Soap found himself leaning forward in his seat, his breath caught in his lungs. He silently willed Simon to stay on just a few seconds longer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the ride. Ghost leaped off the bull, landing as gracefully as one could while running from a crazed animal with horns. Soap’s heart was still pounding as he watched Ghost run back toward the gate, somehow still maintaining his casual demeanor as he climbed over. 

He watched as the rider disappeared behind the gate and out of sight. Gaz elbowed him playfully, a knowing grin on his face. “Go congratulate your cowboy, he just one first place,” he said, his voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Soap whipped his head to the scoreboard, eyes scanning before he saw Ghost’s name jump to the top as his points were entered. He couldn’t help the stupid smile spreading across his face. 

“Ye sure you’ll be alright?” he asked, already standing up. Gaz scoffed, “Get the fuck outta here Soap.”

Soap put his hands together in a mock prayer. “Thank you, Garrick.”

He turned around and nearly sprinted down the stairs, cursing the crowds blocking his way. He had to make it down there before the rider left.

Soap finally managed to make it down to the ground floor, booking it to the area cornered off for the riders and their crew. He got farther than he thought he would before security stopped him, asking for his pass that he clearly didn’t have. 

He tried a handful of excuses but there wasn’t any reasoning with the man. He was about to ask if he could at least pass on a message for him before he felt someone brush up against his back. 

“He’s with me.” 

Soap swallowed. That low, gravelly voice back in his ear. Right where he wanted it.

The security guard stood there a moment before he nodded at Ghost and walked away, as if Soap wasn’t even there. 

It took a herculean effort for Soap to turn around. He was very close to losing his nerve and chickening out of this whole ordeal. Hell, he didn’t know this man. What was he doing? 

“Now, what are ya doing all the way over here. Breaking more of those rules, I see,” he said forcing Soap to take a step backwards. 

Soap cleared his throat, voice coming out surprisingly steady. “Well, I figured I would congratulate the winner.”

“That so?” he asked with a tilt to his head.

Soap took a step forward in a random burst of boldness. Now or never. 

“Aye, I also think I owe ye a debt,” he punctuated by grabbing the hat off the man’s head and placing it upon his own.

Soap wasn’t sure if it was the passing headlights from the sea of cars and trailers behind them, but he swore Ghost’s eyes flashed at his words. He leaned down in a mirror image of their earlier interaction, a strained “Follow me,” was spoken in his ear.

Soap let out a deep breath as he watched the man walk away. Not ashamed to admit he enjoyed watching him as he did so. Fuck. This was happening. 

They walked through a dirt and gravel lot off to the side of the arena. Soap observed the ranchers loading the livestock back into trailers under the parking lot lights as they passed through.

They ended up on the outer edge of the lot, the closest light post was a few cars down so it wasn’t overly bright where they were. Soap nearly missed it when Ghost turned a corner around a large parked trailer. 

He followed suit, unable to stop the embarrassing yelp that left his mouth as he was thrown against the side of said trailer. All thoughts of cursing the man out disappeared when Ghost’s lips were crashing against his. The initial impact had him grunting, the sounds immediately swallowed by Ghost’s domineering mouth. 

Soap couldn’t breathe, and normally he wouldn’t have any complaints about the matter given the situation, but he was starting to get lightheaded. He reached his hands up, gripping onto that leather vest and regretfully pushed the man off of him. He gasped at the separation, greedily filling his lungs at the first opportunity.

“Air, air is good,” he wheezed out.

The bastard huffed a laughed right in Soap’s face. Between the night sky and Soap’s racing mind, he hadn’t quite registered that Ghost had taken off the bandana from earlier. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, just barely making out the details of the face currently six inches from his own. 

He was fucking beautiful. 

Soap didn’t need sunlight to come to that conclusion. He had strong features; a Roman nose that had clearly been broken one too many times and never healed quite right, full lips that had a small scar running across the bottom as if it had been split in a fist fight and never got the proper stitches. He had another scar going from his chin to his neck, the moonlight illuminating the silvery healed skin that was no doubt part of an impressive collection. 

Soap couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face when he realized how blatantly he’d been checking out the other man. To his credit, Ghost just stood there; not saying a word while letting him have his fill. 

His attention drifted back to reality when a wave of lights and shadows danced across their faces as a car drove by. Soap unconsciously grabbed onto Ghost’s vest, pulling him onto himself while trying to melt into the trailer out of fear of getting caught. 

“Relax,” Ghost whispered. 

His mouth moved down to Soap’s jaw, kissing his way across his flushed skin until he reached his ear. Soap couldn’t help the full body shutter that racked through him as the man licked up the shell of his ear before biting down on the tender cartilage.

He turned his face slightly to the right in a poor attempt at stifling his moan in Ghost’s shoulder as the other slotted his knee right between his legs. 

Fuck. He hadn’t realized just how hard he was before Ghost started grinding against him.

The friction was almost unbearable, just the right amount of pain to still be pleasurable but still not enough. “More,” he groaned out. All reservations about sounding too desperate were out the door, he needed this man. Now.

Ghost turned his head to stare directly at Soap with a smirk plastered on that stupidly handsome face. 

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he teased. 

He didn’t even give Soap time to defend himself before he was reaching down to undo his belt buckle and slide his hand down Soap’s boxers. 

“Fuuuck,” Soap hissed out as Ghost gripped his cock with those rough and calloused hands. Every twist of the man’s wrist had a jolt of pleasure shooting up Soap’s spine. His hand had felt like a branding iron, scorching to the touch and Soap had no complaints over the claim.

He was full on panting now. The only air he could manage to get was what Ghost allowed him when his lips granted reprieve. 

Soap was gradually nearing his breaking point. He normally would have been embarrassed for not lasting longer, but he decided to give himself a break when he’d been sporting a semi nearly the entire second half of the event. No thanks to the bastard who currently had his tongue shoved down his throat. 

Soap hadn’t even realized the involuntary bucking of his hips, his body’s feeble attempt to get off. The shallow thrusts got quicker, insinuating his building release. Just as Soap was about to reach that blissful moment he had been craving all night, Ghost snatched his hand away and removed them from Soap’s pants entirely.

“Oh, you fuckin’ bastard,” Soap spat out at the other man. 

Ghost stood straight before clicking his tongue. “We have a debt that needs paid now don’t we, darling?” he cooed at Soap who did his best to not let the pet name affect him too much.

Soap groaned in frustration. “Then hurry the fuck up cause I’m not gonna last much longer, ya fucker,” he growled out.

Ghost shook his head at him. “Ya sure do have a mouth on ya,” he stated.

“Aye, ye can do something about it next time.” Soap didn’t really care that he just left an opening for this to occur again, mind too preoccupied on the fact his balls felt like they were about to explode. 

Ghost had that smug look back on face as he reached into his pocket for something. He pulled out a set of black keys and pressed a button, the black truck behind him flashing its lights twice before he put them back. 

“Are ye kidding me? Your car was here the whole time?,” Soap whined. 

“Sounds an awful lot like complaining, mate. Not a fan of being watched, are ya?” Ghost taunted. The way he talked to Soap like he was a child was some fucked up mix of extremely hot and infuriating. 

Soap glared at the man. “Get the fuck in the back seat. Now.” 

Despite Ghost narrowing his eyes, Soap didn’t leave any room for argument and the other man complied with no further complaints. 

Ghost climbed into the back of the truck, spreading out across the seats with his hands resting behind his head as he looked at Soap. Well, didn’t he just look like the cat who got the cream. 

God, he was fucking hot.

Soap climbed in after him without another word. With the door closed, the lights in the truck went out and the space was filled with darkness once again. Soap was straddling the man’s massive thighs, nearly hanging off the edge. It was cramped, barely any room to move but he would make it work. Had to make it work. 

“Just gonna sit there and look pretty, darling?,” Ghost snarked, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Soap replied with no real heat. He reached out to undo Ghost’s belt, hoping the way his throat bobbed at the clear outline in the man’s pants wasn’t visible in the moonlight. Good lord he was massive. That earlier apprehension started to slowly creep back in and wash away his false confidence. 

Ghost made another one of those clicking sounds with his tongue that had Soap freezing his movements. When he looked up into the man’s eyes, he couldn’t help the way his stomach flipped. Ghost had a way of looking at him that sent every warning bell and nerve in his body off like a crack of lightning. Like a predator finally catching his prey after having it in its sights for too long.

“Get undressed,” Ghost demanded.

Normally, Soap would put up a fight just to be an ass, but he didn’t have much fight left in him at this point. He was so on edge, so close to finally getting off he was honestly scared what he would do just to make it happen. With nothing more than a roll of his eyes in complaint, he started undoing the buttons of his shirt. It was only a matter of minutes before Soap was spread across the man’s lap in the back seat, completely naked. 

He felt like his brain was melting. There shouldn’t have been something so hot about the fact he was completely naked and bare while Ghost hadn’t even removed so much as his hat during all this. He could feel the rough denim on the sensitive skin of his thighs, the cold buckle from the man’s belt when he leaned forward just an inch. Soap wasn’t even ashamed when he realized he had been slowly grinding himself against the man, anything to ease his burning desire.  

Ghost finally spoke up, but Soap didn’t even stop his movements. “What’s your name?” he asked with that low and rough voice. Soap’s own ego was slightly stroked, he could hear the strain in the man’s voice despite the calm demeanor he was trying to convey. 

“John, but most people call me Soap,” he breathed out. He was two seconds away from ripping the clothes off this man himself.

“Soap? What kind of nickname is that?”

“Says the man called Ghost?” he quipped back.

“Alright, I’ll give ya that one. Why don’t you go on and get yourself ready for me, darling?,” he asked, but they both knew it was another command.

Soap couldn’t help the pointed stare he threw at the man. “Ye gonna make me do all the work, is that it?”

Ghost’s lopsided smile was answer enough. “I’m not the one who picked up the hat, Johnny.”

Johnny.

Fuck, why was that so hot to hear coming from his mouth? He really needed to get this thing moving.

Soap held his fingers out in front of the man’s mouth. When all he got was a questioning look in response, he rolled his eyes and pushed them against his lips. “Suck,” was all he said, patience wearing thin now.

Ghost opened his mouth slowly, letting Soap glide his fingers over his tongue. They were probably dirty as hell, covered in germs and popcorn butter but he didn’t really care at this point. The bastard would live. 

He was mesmerized as he watched Ghost work his tongue across his fingers. His mouth was hot, but nothing compared to the flames dancing across his skin as Ghost never lost eye contact during the whole ordeal. He could probably cum from this alone.

Before that thought became reality, Soap pulled his hand back. Watching the string of spit connecting his fingers to Ghost’s mouth glisten in the moonlight. 

He cursed lowly as he gripped himself in one hand, rising slightly before reaching around. He entered himself without a fuss, moaning at the friction as he slid his fingers in further. It burned a little, Ghost’s spit only helping ease the way so much. He preened like a peacock when he felt, more like heard, the other man’s sharp inhale below him. 

He started moving with a little more urgency at that, opening himself up while rocking his body back and forth. He wasn’t overly moaning like a whore, but he wasn’t exactly trying to hold back anything either. Quite enjoying the sharp little intakes of air and jerky movements of the man beneath him. He managed to get up to three fingers before he found that particular spot inside him. This time, his moans might have been a little porn starry. Ghost finally lifted his hands at that, gripping onto Soap’s hips like he was his lifeline. 

Soap wasn’t having any of that. He swatted the man’s hands away, pushing down on his chest with the hand not currently inside him when Ghost tried to protest. “No touching,” he scolded, taking great pleasure in the frustrated look on his face. 

Ghost grunted in response, like a damn toddler who didn’t get his way. “Awww,” Soap cooed at him, “Needy little thing, aren’t ye?” he said, throwing the other man’s words against him.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at that, but didn’t complain any further. “Funny.”

“I’d like to think so,” Soap replied. 

This time, when he went to undo Ghost’s belt, he wasn’t met with any resistance. With quick movements, he had Ghost pulled out in no time. Fucking hell. Massive was an understatement. It took everything in Soap to school his emotions. He wasn’t letting this bastard know how intimidated and equally impressed he was. He must have done a shit job cause Ghost had that satisfied, smug look back on his face. He could probably read minds for all he knew.

Soap gave a few quick pumps to Ghost’s cock before he lined himself up. He froze just as the other man was about to enter him. 

“The hat,” he said. It took a while before Ghost could tear his eyes away from where Soap hovered over his cock, the words finally registering before he reached up and placed his hat on Soap’s sweat-slicked mohawk. 

They were both burning up, feeling like a damn sauna in the backseat of the truck. The windows had fogged up a while ago as they swapped air in the small space, thankfully providing a thin form of privacy. 

Soap smiled as he adjusted the hat with one hand, the other still lining Ghost up as he slowly lowered himself down. 

Fuck.

They both moaned in chorus as Soap’s still too-tight heat enveloped Ghost’s cock. He sunk lower and lower at a glacial pace, letting gravity do the work and take some of the strain off his shaky legs.

He bottomed out eventually, resting on Ghost’s hips as he caught his breath. Ghost was panting below him, chest heaving as his body was strung tight with tension. Soap knew the man was dying to take control. Too fucking bad.

When Soap’s world wasn’t spinning anymore, he lifted himself back up before repeating the process all over again while setting a steady pace. He wasn’t going very fast, but he didn’t really need to. Ghost was so big that he reached all the spots he needed him too, the stretch and burn sending bolts shooting up his spine was enough for him.

He gripped tightly onto Ghost’s leather vest with his right hand, his own make shift bull rope as his left held onto the black hat resting on his head. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Ghost, but he still had to lean and bend at a weird angle to fit in the cramped space. He started to pick up a little speed, his movements mimicking Ghost’s from when he rode the bull earlier. Soap snapped his own hips back and forth, occasionally grinding down in a circular motion that had Ghost groaning unabashedly. 

He wasn’t normally one to be overly cocky, but he basked in the satisfaction of ruining this man. That calm and collected demeanor washed away by the panting, barely held back animal beneath him. Hell, he was equally just as ruined. He couldn’t contain the little punched out moans that escaped every time Ghost hit his prostate on each rock backward. He wouldn’t last a minute longer and judging by the shaking man before him, he wasn’t the only one. 

“S-Simon, pleaaase,” Soap groaned out between moans. He tried to convey everything he was thinking and wanted in that one word. Ghost being the mind reader he was picked up on it without dropping a beat. Like he was waiting for it.

He immediately grabbed onto Soap’s hips with enough force to bruise. Fuck, Soap wished they would. With one last glance at the man below him, Soap closed his eyes as Ghost started jackhammering into him. The car was a symphony of curses, moans, and grunts. Neither man holding back now. Soap removed his hand from the hat and pushed it against the ceiling, trying desperately to find purchase and not fall over. The rough movements had the sweat from his forehead running down his face, beads dropping onto Ghost’s chest off his nose and chin. He couldn’t find a single fiber of his being that cared.

His end was nearing and he wasn’t going to deny it this time. “Fuuuck, don’t s-stop,” he moaned as Ghost abused his prostate at the angle they were in. If Ghost decided now was a good time to tease the man, Soap would probably end up committing murder.

He could tell Ghost was almost at his breaking point as well. The man’s thrusts started to become wild, losing all sense of coordination as he chased his release. Soap screamed out when Ghost lifted his hand off his hip and grabbed his cock, pumping it in an off beat against his thrusts, never allowing Soap a second of reprieve from overwhelming sensation. 

“Go on, cum for me, Johnny,” he rasped out. Who was Soap to deny him?

Soap’s whole body seized as Ghost slammed into that bundle of nerves harder than he’d done all night. It felt like lightning was shooting through his body as his vision whited out. He didn’t even feel bad that he made a mess all over Ghost’s vest, too blissed out to even care. Ghost lasted around three and a half thrusts more before he was following Soap over the edge as well, cursing his name as he did. It was the best thing Soap had ever heard in his life. He responded with a groan as he felt Ghost empty out inside him. The feeling making his own spent cock twitch in response. Round two was not an option currently on the table. Soap felt like rolling over on the floor right there and taking a twenty hour nap after this. He didn’t think Ghost would mind very much.

They sat there for a few minutes, chests heaving and skin sweaty where they were still connected. Soap started looking around, his eyes scanning the man’s truck before he found what he was looking for in the center console. He popped the lid off and held it between his teeth as he unzipped Ghost’s soiled vest and unbuttoned his shirt. He ignored the curious eyes watching his movements. With the man’s chest now bear, Soap moved the marker to scribble out his number in his chicken scratch. He pulled back, looking down at his work with a satisfied expression as he capped the marker and tossed it over his shoulder. 

“Give me a call next time you’re in town, cowboy,” he said as he slowly raised himself off of Ghost’s softening cock. 

He wasn’t sure if the man had even heard him. His attention drawn to where he pulled out of Soap, his cum slowly starting to drip down his thighs. It was gonna be an uncomfortable ride home. He glanced around and grabbed his discarded clothes, doing his best to put them back on in the limited space. Ghost just sat there watching him, lounging across his backseat without a care in the world. 

Soap finally managed to put his shoes back on, pulling out his phone and ordering an Uber ride. He turned down Ghost’s offer to drive him home, he needed to get away from the man so his brain wasn’t mush anymore. With one last glance around, he leaned over Ghost on his knees. 

“Ye know, I like this hat. I think it’s mine now,” he stated.

“That so?” Ghost asked as he looked up at Soap.

“Yeah, it’s mine. Ye know what that means?” 

“What?” Ghost responded, genuinely curious. 

Soap lifted up the hat before lowering down, placing it back onto Ghost’s head as he whispered low in his ear. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

Soap didn’t say anything else as he exited the vehicle. The smile was uncontrollable as he walked across the gravel lot back to the car pick up zone.

 A man with a short circuiting brain laid in the backseat of his car behind him.

[omisubi]

𓂅 SIDELINES — M. OSAMU

plot : You’re a model in Tokyo’s limelight that is crushing on your best friend’s brother. Except, your usual charm doesn’t work on the impassive cook.

contains: fluff, comedy, reader lacking flirting skills, osamu playing hard to get, atsumu being atsumu, 1.3k words.

.

.

.

Cameras seem to love you.

It’s what Osamu thinks when he sees you on the cover of yet another magazine that piles on top of many others. He turns on the restaurant’s TV and then there you are again on Japan’s Entertainment News. And there’s his brother right next to you.

You and Atsumu were notorious best friends. There were numerous photographs of the both of you at exclusive parties, always dressed to the nines, promoting whatever popular brand.

Of course, just like everyone, Osamu thought you were pretty. Gorgeous. Whatever. He believes you are most definitely annoying. Because who hangs out with Atsumu that much? He did it for eighteen years and he barely made it out alive and you’re voluntarily doing it? You’re insane for sure.

He’s made an effort to know more about your relationship with his brother. Dropping subtle asks to Atsumu like so I’ve seen you on the news with that model. New girlfriend? but oddly enough, Atsumu talks about you like a friend. A good one, at that. To Osamu’s surprise, Atsumu has said the words she’s like my sister.

So, there it was. His opinion of you: indifferent. Yet, there he was, finding himself freezing up when you walked into his store with a million dollar smile as you end your conversation with someone on the phone.

He tells himself its just shock so his calm demeanor comes back when you reach the counter.

When he looks up at you, you’re freezing up. He’s really.... handsome. Of course, he has the same face as Atsumu, but it’s different? Osamu’s confidence is calmly exuded, in contrast to Atsumu’s. His dark hair frames his face nicely under the cap. Wow, is all you’re thinking. His biceps flex as he reaches the tablet at the cashier. That black fitted shirt makes you wonder if half the customers come in just for him, just to stay for both the man and his good food.

“Miss?” The girl at the cashier is looking at you with a concerned expression. You realize you should be speaking, rather than ogling.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I—“

“Hana, could you take the trash out before you leave? I’ll make the order and close.”

“Sure.” She smiles at him, before eyeing you.

“What would ya like?” He asks you. And he almost sounds annoyed. Maybe because it’s a little late. Atsumu did warn you to not come this late, but your shoot just finished and you were starving.

You muster up the courage and with your most charming smile, you say, “Your number.” When it comes out of your mouth, you realize you might just be spending too much time with Atsumu, accidentally picking up his lack of flirting skills. Osamu stares at you. Confused. Unimpressed. So, you abruptly add, “3.” Cough. “Your number 3.. and a cup of green tea, please.”

He gives a nod before registering your cash in and you stand there to dwell on your humiliation.

As Osamu prepares your order he finds himself feeling a little smug because— Wow, you really have no game for someone with a face like that. It could be fun teasing you.

So, he does just that. Every time you come, he gets to play hard-to-get. He finds himself looking forward to Thursday nights. It’s the one day a week you consistently come. He gets to sees why you and Atsumu are friends. You both are somewhat the same, in most aspects. But first, you both are competent in everything but flirting. He gets to see that you’re pretty cute, blushing in front of him like he’s the celebrity.

You, on the other hand, are not having fun. Getting rejected was taking a toll on you. So this is what it’s like to pursue men? Your ego was deflating. Not only do you think Osamu doesn’t like you, you think Hana doesn’t either. Neither of them seemed to enjoy packing your three large orders of onigiri for your management team. They just seemed bothered and inconvenienced for the most part.

You grow sick of it, and it’s evident at your next shoot.

“Are ya sad he rejected you?” Atsumu asks, mocking your evident gloom. You’ve both just finished an athletic gear ad. “Buy tickets to my game. It’ll make ya feel better.”

You roll your eyes. “Nice pitch. But, no. I’m actually feeling rather ill,” you tell him.

It’s Atsumu’s turn to roll his eyes. “Get rejected once and suddenly you’re ill?”

You huff. “Heartbreak is a very serious thing.”

He chuckles. “Sure.”

His amusement doesn’t last long, because he realizes when another model comes in to take your place at the next shoot, that you really might have gone down with something. As an apology for brushing your health off (he realizes how important it is from being with Sakusa all the time), he sends the person he trusts most to you. The person just so happens to be the best at making great soup, too.

Osamu shows up to your apartment, awkward and nervous. He doesn’t know why he agreed too eagerly, even Atsumu had caught it. He could hear the smugness through the phone. But the truth is he missed you. Missed seeing your overly cheery self. Missed seeing you blush every time you two made eye contact in silence.

“Oh!” You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. Yeah, he missed seeing that smile too.“Hi.”

“Hey.” He puts a hand up to your forehead. “You’re burning up. I made you some soup.”

He watches the way your eyes light up, gasping as you look into the bag.

“Really?” When you peer into the plastic bag, you realize there’s two sets of everything. There is more than just soup. You look up to see him looking down, nervously shifting his feet.

“Can I… come in?”

.

.

You watch as Osamu heats up his fresh food and uses whatever scraps you have in your kitchen to prepare a proper meal.

“Are you going to feed me too?” You ask once you both are seated, utensils he took the liberty to set, amused to tease him. Before he can sputter out a retort, “Just kidding. Thank you. Really. And I’m sorry about bothering you the past few weeks. Your food is really good.”

Osamu raises a brow. Bother? You?

“You’re not—“

The microwave beeps.

“It’s done!” You say, excited to get some freshly made, hot food into your system.

The both of you spend the evening together, at your kitchen island. It’s terribly domestic, Osamu realizes, but he doesn’t mind. You both share stories. He learns that you’re not only a great friend to Atsumu, you’re a great person too. He respects the way you explain your career; that it’s not just about the serotonin from seeing your face on billboards and walls, it’s also about traveling and connecting with people. He likes the way you laugh, leaning into him like you’re sharing an intimate moment. He thinks you can make anyone feel at home, just being near you. He understands the draw of it all. Even on photo… he gets it; your allure. It’s the moneymaker all on its own.

“Thank you again.” You say as you walk him to the door.

“It was no problem.” I want to see you again. “See ya Thursday?”

You laugh. “Actually, you’ll be finally catch a break from me. I’m going out of town for a job soon.”

Osamu stops, turning to you. “Oh?”

You nod. “Yeah, for a week or two…”

He steps closer to you, causing you to slow your thinking. He puts a hand to your forehead. The cool of his skin making contact with yours sends you into a frenzy. “Sorry. My mom used to check again after we’d eat.”

You smile at the admission. “Why?”

He shrugs, murmuring, “I guess she wanted to see if her food cured us.”

Your heart swells.

“Well, I feel nothing short of the picture of perfect health.”

Osamu laughs. You feel like a teen again, blushing at the fact that there is a very hot guy in your apartment.

“Listen…” he plays with his sleeve. “When ya get back, can I take you out? I’d really like you bothering me.”

a/n: finally got this out of my drafts! maybe more of this couple in drabbles

[sweettofuki]

Hoshina Soushirou | Sparring in the dead of night

genre: Fluff, slow burn, sexual tension. Pairing: hoshina x fem summary: y/n was training alone one night when Hoshina noticed the door was ajar. As they sparred together, they sensed a deeper tension between them. a/n: I honestly wanted to just write about how y/n licked the blood coming from her nose off smexily. So the ending might not be smooth. Petnames: doll, sweetheart. WC: 1.8k

“Fuck” you exclaimed. You didn’t dodge in time when a kick landed on your gut.

“Too slow,” Hoshina said, with a smug grin, begging to be punched off. At least that’s what you have been trying to do the past hour…

Hoshina slowly circled me. “Focus up y/n. Or not the next kick will end up not just on your stomach.”

[☆]

Y/n is a highly skilled recruit with extensive combat experience, having been trained in self-defense from a young age, and taught by her military father. Hence, earning her a top position among few recruits in her platoon, with exceptional combat abilities.

During the recruitment exam, when you donned the combat tech suit, your unreleased combat power was 11%—notably higher than the average recruit entering the defense force.

However, ever since you joined the Third Division, you couldn’t help being competitive and insecure about your strength.

During the third phase of the recruitment exam, you realized the huge gap between you and this year’s recruits in terms of strength, skill, and experience in neutralizing kaijus.

Having to compete against other recruits who had studied years of Kaiju neutralization before entering the Defence Force. Not to mention having a current unreleased combat power of 18%. Days go by as you watch your colleagues get stronger every day while you feel yourself falling behind.

What’s worse is that you’re not the only one who noticed this. Recently, the vice-captain had been pushing you harder during drills. “y/n! Three more laps!”

Under Vice Captain Hoshina’s piercing gaze, nothing escapes his sight.

[☆]

Hence why you have been staying up late at night to practice. Every night when everyone had already gone to bed, you silently make your way to the training room. Tonight was like any other, with you absorbed in your sparring session with a dummy, venting your frustrations.

Deeply lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the training room door was slightly ajar.

“Oho, working hard I see.” you got startled by your Vice Captain’s voice out of nowhere. You turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe.

“Sleeping’s part of the job too ya know,” Hoshina said, wearing his usual coy expression.

“Jesus Christ. You can’t just sneak up on me like that! How long have you been standing there??”

He chuckled. “Long enough to see that you could use some extra help.”

He slowly strolled towards me, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket.

You narrowed your eyes. “Please, enlighten me,” you said.

“First off, your form is wrong. You need to widen your standing stance and strike low to get a more powerful punch.” He smiled, slyly. Then he pushed your feet back using his leg. “Try it.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing his words, before getting into his stance and following through. BAM! The dummy flew backward.

You raised your eyebrows. “I can’t believe his advice actually worked.”

Hoshina whistled. “Nice one y/n. “

"Now.” He added with a sly grin, “Would you like me to show you more ‘extra help’?”

He said as he unzipped his jacket, revealing a tight shirt underneath that barely left anything to the imagination. His biceps strained against the arms of his shirt, emphasizing his broad shoulders, now visible without his baggy jacket. He stretched his arms as he stalked over, a glimpse of skin peeked out from under his shirt.

“Shall we begin?”

And that’s how it led to both of you sparring in the dead of the night.

[☆]

You doubled over, the pain radiating through your entire midsection. You could still feel the rush of air escaping from your lungs where he kicked you.

You tried to walk it off, refusing to let him see how much it hurt.

“Oho. Acting strong now? Not bad though, I will give you that. Ya have a strong gut. Usually, with that kick, my opponents would be sent backward like that dummy.”

You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Fuck o—”

“I suggest you not to finish that y/n. Unless you want to end up like your colleague Furuhashi. He had to do 100 push-ups cuz’ of that.” He warned sternly. However, despite the tone of his voice, his expression said otherwise. His eyes glinted with amusement, and his grin widened menacingly.

We slowly began to circle one another, refusing to back down from the other. Our eyes locked in a deadly stare-off, beckoning the other to move first.

Tick. Tick. Tick. In silence, the clock on the wall ticks every second.

Once the second-hand clock struck midnight, both of you surged forward simultaneously. You unleashed a series of calculated strikes, testing your opponent's defenses. Your punches were swift, but Hoshina matched your move for move, deflecting each blow with precision and practiced ease.

Feeling a surge of frustration, you switched tactics, got down, and swiped your leg over Hoshina’s legs. Unfortunately, Hoshina has fast reflexes and jumps in time to avoid your attack.

As soon as you stood back up, he feinted a low kick before aiming a high roundhouse toward your head at lightning speed.

You couldn’t counter in time.

In a split second, your world exploded into pain as a powerful kick crashed into your temple. The impact sent shockwaves through your skull, and you felt liquid warmth trickling down your face.

You staggered back, stunned by the force of the blow. Blood streamed from your nose, splattering on the mat below. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision. Through your blurry vision, you caught a flicker of hesitation in Hoshina's eyes before he closed in, seizing the advantage.

“As a recruit, you should always be on alert and ready for surprise attacks.” He says, throwing another punch.

Gritting your teeth against the pain, you raised your guard, blocking another aim at my midsection. You struggled to regain your footing, your head still spinning from the blow. Every movement felt sluggish, your body protesting the punishment it had endured.

You staggered back again and wiped off some blood from your upper lip with your thumb. Your eyes flickered down at your bloodied thumb. Then you chuckled before locking eyes on Hoshina, swiping your tongue to lick the blood off your upper lip. “Playing dirty are we, Vice Captain?” you grinned.

Hoshina froze, his eyes locked on the blood on your lips. Unbeknownst to you, his mind raced with several thoughts, his heart pounding faster. No matter how deeply he breathed, it felt like you were stealing all his air. Slowly, warmth crept into his cheeks.

“Fuck, I need a cold shower after this,” he thought, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

He snapped out of his thoughts and refocused on you.

Fortunately for him, despite his internal turmoil, his expression remained nonchalant.

You lunged at him once more. He countered with a punch, but this time, you swiftly dodged and side-stepped. With a surge of determination, you used his forward momentum and threw him over your shoulders.

You quickly straddled his hips and held onto his wrists, pinning him down on the mat.

You breathed heavily down at him, still feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

I stared down at him, his usual fox-like eyes widened with shock.

“What was that you said? As a Vice Captain, you should always be on alert and ready for surprise attacks. You should start showing an example Vice Captain Hoshina.” I grinned smugly.

A moment of surprise wrote on his face before his face became blank. An indifferent expression with a slight tilt at the end of his lips.

“HUHH? There was barely any force in that throw! And you finally landed a hit on me the past two hours.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Pshaw. I would still take it as an improvement.” I smirked.

“Doll, if you want bigger improvements, I would suggest training more. Maybe with me, privately.” Hoshina said, lowering his voice on the last part as his warm hands gently wrapped around mine.

“W-what?” You said softly, warmth rushed to your face.

He effortlessly pushed you up and sat up as if your weight pinning him down meant nothing. In that brief moment, with his face mere centimeters from yours, you could have sworn his eyes flickered down to your lips. His hands gripped your hips momentarily... before gently pushing you off and rising to his feet. Bending down, he extended his hand to help you up.

“I meant that you can always come to me if you want to train. My door is always open,” he said, raising an eyebrow and stifling a chuckle at the sight of your flushed cheek.

“Yeah I knew that,” you mumbled.

A moment passed before you realized you were still holding his hand. Embarrassed, you tried to pull away, but he swiftly grabbed your hand back and pulled you toward him. His free hand cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Your eyes widened in shock, but when you met his gaze, you saw his crimson eyes were just as wide.

Before he realized what he was doing, he reached for your hand, grieving the lost warmth as he interlocked his fingers with yours.

He cursed silently in his head.

As you stare deep into his crimson eyes, you feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement. The intensity of his gaze is captivating you, making it impossible to look away. You feel the rest of the world fade away as time seems to stand still, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin, sending shivers down your spine. The air between you crackles with an unspoken tension, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if he feels it too.

His thumb reached up to rub the blood off your lips, lingering there for a moment.

"How is your head? Is it still in pain?" he asked softly.

"Y-yeah I'm okay." You stammered. "I'm kind of getting headache now though." you added as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Hoshina chuckled lowly. "My bad doll. I swear I didn't mean to hit you that hard! I'm sorry."

He removed a strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. His hand stayed there and gently rubbed your cheek, as if to apologise.

The intensity of his gaze mixed with your anxiousness got to you, so you turned your head away.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he said softly, in a gentle command.

You followed the force of his hand as he tilt your head back to him. “If…you keep looking at me like that,” you mumbled. “You might make me think that you actually like me.”

He paused for a moment, hesitating to say his next few words.

It made you wonder if you had spoken out of turn, if this wasn't what you had imagined.

“Y/n, I—”

RINGGG

Suddenly, a burst of alarm interrupted him.

“A kaiju alert,” he said. “Couldn’t come at a better time than this..” he sighed as he looked back down at you.

“Let’s continue this after the mission, shall we, Doll?” he said.

“As long as you promise to stay alive instead of sacrificing yourself.” You said, raising your eyebrows at him.

“For you, I will.” He said as he smiled softly.

[brucewaynehater101]

Can I ask for a littlebit sibling bonding dami-tim? 🥺 I've looked a lot and can't find anything I haven't already read 😢

Hmm.... I'm assuming you'd like a little piece of writing? It's not fluffy in the slightest, but here ya go!

Tw: auditory descriptions of torture, blood, pain, violence

Hurt/comfort, BAMF Tim, angst

----

Damian's family is full of fools. They are competent, skilled fighters and master tacticians. Each one is a superior detective and powerful leader in their own right.

Yet, they are, undoubtedly, fools.

If each of them were asked who of the family is the largest threat, they would answer wrong. They would praise Cass's unfathomable combat prowess, the unending reach of Oracle, the terror Red Hood brings, Batman's plethora of contingency plans, or the charismatic destruction of Dick. To them, these members would be the top contenders.

Damian is not indicating that these family members wouldn't be formidable. He's not even saying they are unworthy to be wary of. No. Only a fucking idiot would dismiss the very real peril of these vigilantes.

The issue lies in how obvious they are. Everyone knows to especially prepare defenses against them. They are terrifying as opponents and ruthless when provoked. All Bats are.

However, Damian knows, as he has always known, that none of them are a threat in the way that Timothy Drake is.

Drake isn't physically imposing nor is he well-known for his ability to decimate his enemies from afar. He's a Bat and he's competent, but he usually upholds a supporting role. He fades to the background and hides in the shadows of his predecessors. He doesn't alarm people nor automatically register as the most dangerous person of the Bats. He can completely decimate his opponents, but he's overlooked in comparison to the others.

It's why he terrifies Damian.

Red Robin is a disregarded, unseen hazard. He meticulously and carefully hides his culpability and capabilities even from allies. He's vicious and cruel, a liar, a con man, and a thief.

And yet he's selfless and kind. He's caring.

He's a complicated headache of a man.

It's been... rough trying to ignore Damian's initial assertion of Drake. The problem lies in the fact that it's not wrong. Red Robin is conniving. Drake could easily make Damian disappear without a single Bat suspecting otherwise.

Trusting Drake is the same as handing Red a sword and knowingly turning his back to him. It's idiotic. And it's expected of the youngest brother.

For years, neither Damian nor Tim could get past this hurdle, this mutual distrust. It simmered between them as they recognized the monster of themselves in the other's eyes. They were similar enough to know better than their family members. To know better than to put aside their fued.

But it started to shift.

Damian can't point to when he stopped wearing weapons around Drake's presence, only that Drake lacked his as well.

Red became a bit more brutal against the goons who hurt Robin, and Robin was callous to those who managed a hit on Red.

One by one, the children who used to bother Damian at school either became passive or they moved. One by one, fewer Gotham socialites whispered scandalous rumors about Timothy Drake.

Titus and Alfred the Cat received gifts and treats left in Damian's room. Drake's apartment walls received a mural.

Damian became Dames. Drake became Timothy.

They still snarled and snipped and wrestled and attacked each other. They couldn't hold a conversation without either one blowing up in anger. They never acknowledged the changes. They didn't seek out each other's presence.

But it continued. Damian now only grumbles when Timothy ruffles his hair. Tim moved an extra desk into his office if Damian wanted to work on WE or school. Tim finds truly abhorrent charcoal portraits of himself, and Damian finds his gifted drawing in picture frames.

They don't like each other and they won't admit to caring about their brother. They just, maybe quite possibly, don't hate the other anymore.

While the Waynes are disappointed the two don't get along, they have noticed the shift. It's enough for the family that the two no longer wish each other harm. After everything, that's fine.

This is why Damian's scream comes as such a shock to everyone but Tim.

It's been an hour. An hour since Robin was captured, his GPS was scrambled, and his com was left untouched. An hour of the entire family desperately scouring the city for their youngest bat.

Thirty-seven minutes ago, Damian woke up.

The Bats were forced to listen to him acknowledge his kidnappers and the sound of flesh being hit as of thirty-four minutes ago.

Damian's ability to muffle his own grunts of pain broke down seventeen minutes prior. He started screaming twelve minutes ago.

Eleven seconds ago, with a voice gritty from the hollering and blood, Damian allowed those who captured him to know they left his com in place. He finally addressed one of the Bats while in the kidnappers' presence.

With a tone threaded with pain, with a slight sob, Damian begs, "Timothy. Please."

All of the Bats but one turn to each other in confusion. In their momentary bewilderment, Red Robin disappears.

Tim was barely holding onto his control. He was trying to continuously remind himself why he operates the way Batman prefers. His grip on his restraint was slipping with every whimper, cry, and shout from his baby brother. Tim was going to function Bruce's way. He was.

Swallowing down his wrath, his uselessness, his grief, and his frustration is a well-known habit. Red knows how to choke down his own feelings and desires in his pursuit of "the greater good." He's aware that Bruce's path, as flawed as it is, is better than the one Tim instinctively knows. The Batman way prevents the type of future that Red is constantly trying to prevent of himself.

So, even though the sounds of Damian's torment is riping into Tim's own mind, Red was going to go about it Bruce's way.

But then Damian asked.

There's nothing in this world, in this fuckkng universe, that could prevent Tim from answering his baby brother.

The Bats couldn't hear the threads snapping from Tim's control, but Tim could. Damian, from wherever he was, could as well.

Between the blood pouring from Robin's nose and forehead, a cruel and wicked smile carved into his face.

Timothy, not Red Robin, was coming for those who harmed his brother. They will not escape. They will not survive past today.

[lieskuu]

" Anything you can do, I can do better. "

{ 希望 } Ranpoe x M!Reader

Genre : Smut !!

Includes : Dom!Top!Ranpo, Dom!Top!Poe, Sub!Bottom!Reader, Threesome, Gagging, Crying ( Dacryphilia ),

A/n : GUESS WHOS BACK !! this has been requested by @tucshieen !! sorry I haven't been posting lately, kinda got busy after the Sigma one :P BUT HOPE THIS'LL MAKE UP FOR IT !!

!! FEMALE ALIGNED DNI !!

Your boyfriends would always compete with each other, it was quite normal but sometimes it would get out of hand, but would you do anything about it? nah.. you have better things to do.

Like.. watching them make up the dumbest competitions.

But I guess these competitions started to include you.. like, who's the better kisser, who's better at making you blush, who's better at picking dates.

You were flattered honestly, but I guess today this competition was.. something else perhaps.

What do you do when your boyfriends, one is deep throating you and one is slamming into your hole, is fighting about who could please you more? you could barely think.

Your mouth filled with a certain novelist's dick, holding onto his hips for support while your hole was filled by a certain detective's dick, your eyes were just tearing up, you could barely handle it.

" Mhm.. just like that, fuck you're mouth is so warmm.. " Poe smiled at you as he pulled on your hair a little, making you take every single inch, " You can handle it, right? " The novelist smiled at you as he used his other hand to wipe your tears.

While the detective scoffed and gripped your hips, " Don't pay attention to him, " He mumbled under his breath as he started pounding into you harder, causing you to choke out a cry, your breath hitching, you weren't sure on who to focus on.

" Ed doesn't seem to know how to use his dick properly. " Ranpo joked as he moved his hand down and started to wrap his hand around your cock, stroking it as he pounded into you restlessly.

Poe raised an eyebrow as he looked at Ranpo, " Seems that my dear Ranpo, is selling out the wrong info, seems quite irresponsible for ' the world's greatest detective. ' " He responded back as he pulled onto your hair harder.

You started to choke a little, getting the brunette's attention as he looked down, locking eye contact with you once more, " Choking, eh..? Ranpo-kun's being too hard on you, hm? " He said as he stroked your hair.

It's quite an obvious difference on who's gentle and who's rough.

" Me? being hard on him? I'm just giving him a better time! unlike you. " The black-haired spat back, glaring at the other.

" Better time? you're being so rough on him, isn't that right, hm? " Poe questioned you, as if he expected you to back him up, but you were too busy crying out of pleasure.

Your tears running down and dropping like rain, your face flushed, you were about to move your head to respond but Ranpo spanked your ass, causing you to choke out another moan.

" Aw.. look at him crying! isn't he adorable. " Ranpo giggled as he spanked you once more, hearing your muffled noises just make him want to pound you faster, " Seems to be enjoying it, ya know. " He grinned mischeviously.

" Or maybe he's crying because of you. " Poe responded.

" Yeah, crying because I know how to have a fun time. " Ranpo giggled once more.

The novelist scoffed and pulled your hair, feeling your mouth's warmth, " You're doing so well for me, aren't you? " He moaned as he felt your tongue move around his cock, thrusting his length into your mouth.

You practically melted at his praises, you didn't even know who to choose at this point, them arguing over you is honestly making you feel so .. how do you explain it.

Their arguing kept going, but you were so.. close, so fucking close, that Ranpo noticed your legs shaking, he smiled as he took it well, he jerked you off faster, determined to give you a better time and cum well.

Poe noticed and started gripping onto your hair harder one last time and started forcing you to take his entire length, determined to make you feel more warmth.

The overwhelming feeling started taking over you, it didn't take long before your cock started leaking out the gooey liquid, letting your eyes roll back and moan.

Poe came into your mouth, that bitterness filling your mouth, forcing you to swallow and take every last drop, while Ranpo thrusted a few times before cumming inside you, making sure you become full from his seed.

They pulled out, your first move was to collapse onto the bed and let out a small whine, " ff..uckk.. ", your voice was hoarse from whatever just happened, dizzy and pleasured.

" .. See I obviously gave him a better time. "

" I'm technically the reason why his voice was like that, Ranpo-kun "

" Can you both shut up for a momentt.. I feel stickyy.. "

IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING OFTEN I WILL TRY MY BEST TO DO REQUESTS IF I GET ANY, SCHOOL IS REALLY TIREDSOME 🔥🔥🔥

[nubisaureus]

sharing is caring

Been having KuroKen x reader brainrot lately so here ya go, some spicy headcanons for y'all!

character(s): Kuroo and Kenma (timeskip)

pairing(s): KuroKen x afab!reader

contents: polyship (Kuroo x Kenma x reader), domestic shenanigans, cuddles, finger fucking, drooling, neck kissing

a/n: YALL DONT EVEN UNDERSTAND THE BRAINROT THATS CONSUMING ME I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS SO BADLY AAAAAAH

not proofread!

Enjoy! <3

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they're both completely smitten with you

Kenma is very clingy; he loves playing games while you two are hugging: he rests his head on your shoulder, while you basically nap on him

you and Kuroo are the ones to remind Kenma to eat and sleep properly: he'd even forget to drink water without you

Kuroo loves to tease Kenma just to get on his nerves; and that is usually done by giving you attention: he gets jealous super easily

of course it's healthy jealousy: they love competing for your attention, and overwhelming you with theirs

Kenma is a very interesting switch; his sex drive isn't high, but when he's in either a dommy mood or subby mood you can rest assured that things are gonna get steamy

as for Kuroo, he loves going with the flow: he definitely isn't a sub, yet doesn't mind when Kenma takes the lead

Kenma loves making you both writhe for him: he'll usually make Kuroo watch as he makes you feel good, then have him be desperate for release

on the other side, when Kuroo takes the lead, he loves to tag team on you with Kenma: they'll overwhelm you so badly that you won't even know left from right

«Look, Kuroo. Look how good they're feeling because of me.» he shoves two fingers in your pussy, making you writhe and ache for him to move. His clothes feel electric on your naked skin: it's humiliating that they are both still in their clothes, in a way; yet it also feels arousing. Besides, they'd get naked soon enough. Kuroo looks at the whole scene, while kneeling in front of the bed: your pussy spread out in front of him, yet he's forbidden from touching you, not until Kenma's sadism issatisfied. His fingers move in and out, while Kuroo is basically drooling: when he's satisfied, he tentatively danglesthem in front of Kuroo, a smirk plastered where his usual poker face stands. «Want a taste, Kuroo?» he teases, and shoves his fingers in his mouth, while Kuroo sucks on them like he was a man dying from thirst who had been offered water on the brink of his death.

just thinking about what transpired that night makes you wet still to this day

you usually end up sandwiched between the two of them when you're watching something or just cuddling

as you're cuddling, Kuroo would usually be the one to support you both: you usually lay on him, your head resting on his chest while he uses one hand to stroke your hair and the other to stroke any part of Kenma's body he can reach from his position

Kenma usually lays on top of you, with his head on your tummy, as he uses your chest as a console stand for his Switch (a/n the console this time BAHAHAHA)

as he plays on top of you, you love running your hands in his hair: you usually undo his bun, untangling his hair, then run your fingers through it, admiring the little goosebumps that surface on his skin, along with the little shivers he desperately tries to hide

that's just one of your cuddling positions though: another one you particularly love is when you rest your head on Kenma's lap, while Kuroo lays on you

in those times, your hands are in his hair, messing his bed head even more, although he doesn't particularly mind: he's laying on you after all

meanwhile Kenma is obviously playing a game, but will choose a chill one, which gives him the time to stroke your hair and look at you both with an embarrassed face, while Kuroo will tease him about that (a/n i need Kenma blushing in my life so badly-)

you take care of them both, and they take care of you as well

«Kenma..stop sitting like you're a question mark, please» you grab him by the neck, much like a cat, and pull him backwards, as to make him sit up straight. «He'll never learn, love. He'll end up hunched up like a croissant.» you let out a giggle, while the blond shots Kuroo a deadly look. «What? It's the truth, Kenma.» he kisses you, shooting him a challenging look. «Oh come on Kuroo, he'll get even grumpier than usual.» you kiss the blond's frown, and his face relaxes immediately. «I'm not grumpy...» he protests, as Kuroo lowers himself to stare at him dead in the eyes. «Bullshit. But since you're cute, I guess I'll let it slide this one time.» and kisses him, making the frown come back as he focuses on his game again. «I need to finish this video and you both are distracting me. Don't you have anything better to do?» he huffs, his puffed cheeks making you and Kuroo erupt in a loud laugh. «Sure, we can do each other.» he retorts, his shit eating grin making you shake your head. You loved those two dorks to death.

it's safe to say his gameplay took less than usual that day

Your predicament is such: you pressed between the two of them, your head resting on Kenma's shoulder while he passionately kisses your neck. Kuroo looks at the two of you, taking in the sight of the people he loves most in the world. Your necks are his weakness: he can't hold on any longer. When his mouth clashes with your neck, you can't help but let out a loud moan, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, using it as leverage to shove his face deeper on yourself. «Something wrong, babe? You seem worked up.» he teases, while Kenma continues incessantly, his arms reaching to hug you from behind, his hands wandering around. «Seriously, Kuroo?» your breath is ragged, so instead of coming out as an angry question, it comes out as more of a whine. «I'm as serious as it gets, babe. So?» he licks an undefined spot, making you squirm in the very small available space between their bodies. You try to catch your breath. «How could I be composed when I have my two boyfriends ravaging my neck?» you blurt out, as they both chuckle.

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 4 - Corruption~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: An intense evening with Alastor starts to corrupt your judgment. Your list and morals are put into question as you start to uncover his intentions with you and the full scope of your abilities.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), Smut (oral and fingers), brief mentions of blood and bodily harm, cursing, fluff, actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+ MDNI

3.3k Words (Ya'll wanted longer chapters so here ya go)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (You're on it!) Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

Had someone told you two months ago that you’d be sitting in an Overlord’s bed with his head in your hands, you’d have called them insane. Tonight though, it was your reality. Just try to keep a clear head. You pull away from the grip Alastor has on your wrists but keep your body close to his. “I don’t understand. Why do you feel like you need to protect me? I’m just some sinner here for a chance at –"

Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

The Radio Demon’s antlers grow and his eyes flash to dials. Before you can register what’s happening he has you pinned into the bed by your shoulders, placing all his weight down as he climbs on top of your body. I’m so fucked. “Why do you insist on lying to me my dear? Do you consider me a fool? I could sense your power the second I walked into that meeting, and I felt your presence as soon as you crossed the hotel doors. Oh-ho no, you’re no ordinary,” he leans closer, “ - filthy sinner.”

His tone was taunting, nearly playful, contrasting with his agitated demon form. Two minutes ago he was pressing kisses into your skin saying he would never hurt you and now he’s trying to intimidate you? He might know more than you had initially thought, but this ‘almighty/all knowing’ attitude is starting to test your patience. You’ve tried being the sweet, helpless sinner long enough. I’ve always enjoyed playing with fire, Radio Demon – two can play your game.

A giggle bubbles out of your chest. “Oh, you sense my power? Then it is quite laughable you’d think I’d ask for someone to protect me. Especially…someone like you.” The lights in the room flicker violently causing all the bulbs to burst. Alastor disappears into his shadow as the room dims. Finally free from his weight you jump up from the bed, pausing to allow your eyes to adjust. The room was dark, but the faint light from the bayou granted some visibility. “I know you’re still here Alastor. Don’t waste your energy trying to scare me. I’ve faced far mor---” a force slams into your shoulder, pushing you to the other side of the room.

With a solid thud your body hits the wall but your head is braced by a hand. You can feel Alastor’s warm breath once again on your face. He towers over you, holding the back of your head while caging you in with his other arm. His lips find your ear, “Continue to question my competence or my power and I will have to remind you who…I…am.” You shudder from the rush of adrenaline surging through your body. He pulls back to study your face, awaiting your next move. Rule #4̷͈̔.̸̹̋ ̵̣̆N̴̤͘e̸̼̎v̸̥̂e̴̫̿r̴̤̆ ̶̲̑ĺ̶̖ē̷̖t̵̞̅ ̴̮̿y̴̘͊õ̵̬u̴̻̓r̶̥͌ ̷͙̿w̴̨̒e̸̺̎a̶̻̿k̸̮͋n̶̢͝e̵͇͛ṣ̶̏s̶͕͘è̸ͅs̸̬̔ ̶͎̈s̵̺̿ȟ̵͚ő̴͖w̵͔͝

I might regret this later but fuck it. “Remind me then.” You breathily tease. The demon’s pupils grow, and his smile widens, “As you wish, ma chère.”

Alastor’s lips crash into yours with a hungry passion - his tongue immediately begging to taste your mouth. The hand behind your head was now entwined in hair, gripping the base of your skull. The other hand forcefully pushed on your lower back to make your body flush with his. You throw your arms around his neck to deepen your kiss and feel - Oh my God…he’s completely hard. Did my defiance give him that much of a thrill? This was not how I thought tonight would play out. A warmth starts between your legs from his kiss alone. The initial plan to push the demon to his breaking point is being rapidly replaced with the desire to break him in other ways.

Your head is abruptly ripped back, making you cry out in pain and frustration. His fingers hold your hair tight as he moves your head to look up at him. “I tried to be gentle with you darling, but it seems like you prefer to make things more…. interesting.” Alastor uses his grip on your hair to drag you across the room, tossing you onto the bed.

The force of his hand reignites your initial rage, “What the fuck is your ---" his lips press back into yours. Pulling himself on top of you he pushes a knee between your legs, putting pressure on your clothed heat and making you push into him. A smug laugh rumbles in his chest. You grasp his vest to pull him closer, but he breaks away yet again to grab your hands - pinning them to either side of your head.

“Quite a position you’ve gotten yourself in dear. What was that about not needing my protection?” he leans over and drags his long tongue up your jawline forcing a whimper out of your throat. “Ah it seems your body betrays you. It’s crying out for me, isn’t it?” Letting go of your hands he snaps his fingers, queuing for his shadow to slide your pants down. The sudden rush of cold sends chills over your bare skin. Show SOME restraint. Don’t just lay here and let him think he’s in charge.

“I might be slightly unraveled but from what I see, you aren’t as in control as you think.” Your hand palms the prominent bulge behind his zipper. He freezes, having not expected you to touch him so aggressively. Using one hand to undo his belt and pants button, you use the other to continue to tease him through his clothes. “Seems like you’re the one who needs me.” you say slipping your hand under his boxers, starting to rub up and down his length. Alastor’s eyes roll back, and a deep growl settles in his chest. Got him.

To your surprise, Alastor is (for once) at a complete loss for words. He hangs his head as he grinds against your hand. You drink in the beautiful moans dripping from his lips with every stroke your hand delivers. The breathy sounds of his pleasure make you squirm under him.

You swear you hear a husky “no” when you pull away. Looking up, his eyes darken and his voice rumbles like gravel, “Mmmm, that’s it.”

Oh shit…

Alastor gets up and grabs your hips, ripping them to the edge of the bed. You hiss when his nails dig into your skin, creating red droplets around each of his fingers. He lowers himself to his knees and traces the cuts with his mouth – eagerly drinking up what little blood had spilled. Uhg – Cannibals.

There’s no time to process the stinging on your skin before you feel his teeth at your thighs, making a trail of bite marks and kisses up to your heat. He pauses to look at your now soaked slit, flashing you a wicked smile as hooks one of your legs on his shoulder and kisses just around where you needed him to be. You buck slightly, giving him all the permission he needs to begin devouring you, flicking his tongue and suckling like it was his last meal.

Your hand slides into his hair, being mindful not to grab his ears or antlers. You tighten your grip, pulling a groan from Alastor before you start to grind into the warmth of his mouth. Feeling your body plead for more, he hastily thrusts in two of his fingers, massaging in and out while your walls spasm around him. You feel him hum in amusement as his tongue continues to lap at your heat, your breathless whines fueling his hunger.

Tears begin to sting your eyes. The tension was too much, “Wait –  no - not yet!“ you try to push away but he hooks onto your thigh, forcing you down onto his mouth. Looking down you meet his eyes, his stare silently begging you to surrender to him. You give in as your head and eyes roll back in sheer bliss. “F-fuck - Alastor!“ you call out to him as an unfamiliar blaze ripples through your body. You reach a point of no return – no logical thoughts, no background noise. Your only focus is to ride out your own resolve.

Alastor gently works you through the high. As your spasms ease up, he pulls away completely. You watch him remove his fingers and put them to his lips - licking each one clean. You can’t help but be in awe of the erotic view – hair disheveled, shirt mostly unbuttoned, and the glow of the bayou casting over his face as he savors the mess you’ve become, the mess he’s made of you. “Is this all it takes to make you beg for me, ma chère?”

A cheeky smile spreads across your face while you set yourself up on your elbows “Beg? I don’t beg for any man.”

“Oh darling…” he crawls over you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’ll soon find out I’m far greater than any man. Let’s pick up this little conversation tomorrow, shall we?” Before you can respond, he snaps his fingers, making the world around you quickly fade out and back in. Just like that you were back in your room and on your own bed.

What in the actual fuck just happened? You stand up from your bed, still completely bare from the waist down. Could have at least sent me back with my pants, asshole. 

As if hearing your thoughts you see a shadow slip under your door delivering your neatly folded slacks then bolting right back out. How the - you know what, no. I’m too tired for this shit. 

Any other night you would have stared at the ceiling, mentally preparing for the next day, but not tonight. Your eyes close before your head hits the pillow.

Between helping Angel then Alastor throwing you around, you wake up feeling like you got hit by a train as expected. You drag yourself out of bed and head into the bathroom, hoping a hot shower will help wash away some of the tension. Removing your shirt you begin to examine your naked body in the mirror. Your shoulder was turning an ugly shade of green and smaller bluish-purple bruises riddled your arms, hips, and thighs, reminding you of every place his fingers touched. Guess he was rougher than I thought. You shake your head and laugh – realizing the twisted satisfaction you feel seeing the aftermath of the night’s events.

Your body welcomes the sting of the hot water as you step inside the shower.  Closing your eyes, you begin to relax while your mind wanders.  

Alastor was quite an enigma. He said he could ‘sense’ your power which surprisingly didn’t worry you as much as you thought. Oddly enough it felt like a small weight off your chest having someone in the hotel finally know some truth, though you would have preferred it to be someone, anyone, other than Alastor. What truly troubled you was the lengths he seemed prepared to go to earn your trust. He was a powerful demon Overlord; he had an arsenal of ways to get what he wanted – fear, torture, bribery, death etc. Hell, with his reputation you were half expecting him to offer up a deal – but he didn’t. Why bother kissing me? Why be so vulnerable? Was he just trying to get a rise out of me? Trick me? Of course he was. Did he really think I would magically trust him just because he made me -

Three loud knocks at the door jolt you out of your thoughts. “What’s up!?”

“Just checking in! You missed breakfast and the usual afternoon activities. Everything okay?” Charlie’s sweet voice called back to you. Damn I slept through the day?

“Oh sorry to worry you, just not feeling – I have a bad headache. Could you please send Nifty up with some tea? Thank you!” You really didn’t feel like leaving your room today anyway. If Alastor wanted to pick up your little chat so badly, he knew where to find you.

Finding out the day was already halfway over; you finish up your shower and get dressed in comfortable clothes - sweatpants and a large off the shoulder tee. No use dressing up when you have zero intentions on leaving your room or seeing anyone, other than Nifty of course. Unfortunately, the hot shower only temporarily relaxed your sore body – the pain in your back and shoulders once again begin to throb. You decide to kick back in bed with a book while awaiting tea.

You don’t even look up from your book when someone knocks at your door, “Come on in Niff – just set it on the dresser, please and thank you.” The door opens and your ears ring. Of course. I should have guessed.

“Well good evening my dear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to hide away from me. Did we not agree that we’d continue our conversation today?” Alastor hums as he walks into the room. He might not have been who you expected but at least brought the tea you asked for.

“Good thing you know better.” You jeer. Although you’re apprehensive of his illusively true intentions, you can’t help but smile at him looking so affable, pouring two cups of tea, and sitting himself on the side of your bed. “I’m just not feeling great, that is all. I’m tired and achy.” Reaching for the cup, your shirt moves to expose your bruised shoulder.

His eyes immediately lock onto your discolored skin. “And that wouldn’t be because of our little…altercation…would it?” his gaze wonders to see the marks speckled down your arms. His usually harsh stare softens as he sees what he did. Is that remorse?

“You didn’t hurt me if that’s what you’re asking. I usually feel like this after…” Stop stop STOP TALKING. Rule #2̷̦͒.̶̛͚ ̷̠͌N̶̰̄e̵̞͗v̸̹͝e̶̘̾r̶̜͋ ̵͉̌t̷̤̑e̶̹͒l̸̮̇ĺ̵͔ ̵͙̇á̴̠ ̷̦̅s̷̰̓ǫ̷̔u̵̺̅l̶̼͐ ̸̜̿w̶̪̆h̷͇̽a̶̡͠t̸̙́ ̷̖͠(̵̪̐o̶͖̾ȑ̴̨ ̶͓̊h̵̻͗o̸͎͠ẅ̵̢ ̶̝̕m̸̧̈́ṵ̵̔c̴̳̉h̵̡̀)̶̖̌ ̴̓͜p̵̡͐ö̴̡w̷͈̏ȅ̵̫ŕ̷͚ ̴̗͛y̷̳̔ó̴͙ư̷̞ ̶͔͘h̵̥̍a̴͍͘v̶̬̚é̵͈

He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, “After - what exactly? Wouldn’t have anything to do with why you fainted last night, would it?”

He obviously knows something.

You avoid his question, “You said last night you can sense me. What exactly does that mean?” Alastor sighs as he sets his cup down. He reaches for your hands like he did the night before, only this time he held them tightly in his, “Close your eyes.”

“Uhm - Excuse me?”

He huffs, “Have I not made it clear that I have no intention in hurting you?”

“I mean – “ you motion towards your bruises.

“Just close your damn eyes.”

You reluctantly close your eyes and listen to his instruction, “Concentrate on what you feel, and I mean really dig deep into the feeling your power gives you.” Okay fine I’ll play along, what’s the worst that can happen? You take a deep breath and focus on the flutters your stomach usually felt when you made a contract with a sinner. Of course you could feel the power each one gave you. The human soul was like pure energy, it was no wonder their collection was used to feed the Overlord hierarchy.

Feeling a pull, Alastor puts your palms flush to his chest. Your small flutters explode into full body vibrations - an intense static floods your veins and your hands begin to glow the soft pink you so often had to hide. The feeling makes you pull back in a panic. Damn him! How?  

He responds to your look of shock with a breathy chuckle as stands up from the bed. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked all too pleased with himself. The arrogant reaction snaps what little patience you had left with him. You heatedly stand up as pink flames burst from your body and eyes while two small black horns crack through your skull. “What the HELL are you trying to get at Alastor? Why toy with me if you know so much already!? What the fuck do you want from me?” your voice was fierce but low. I don’t need Charlie or anyone else to hear me.

A smile crosses Alastor’s face, wider than you’ve seen before. His face would probably split if it went any wider. “Oh my dear, your demon form is beautiful.” He says coolly, placing a hand on your arm and hooking the other under your chin. His touch quickly brings you back to normal form. “Please sit, I can explain everything.”

“I don’t trust you,” you say as you both sit back down on the edge of the bed. His brows furrow at your statement, “Just hear me out?” You nod for him to continue.

“I took a…. sabbatical…seven years ago. When I returned, I felt drawn somewhere. My body began to ache from the pull. I could never figure out where I needed to go - until I walked into that meeting and felt you.”

“I’m…not following.”

“You know how magnets work? A negative charge and positive charge attract, or rather, are drawn to each other. Once together they create a force that can be unbreakable. The power we both possess does exactly that.” He grabs your hands again, flashing you a look of…is that excitement?

You’re skeptical of his idea, it sounded insane. Stupid even. But it made sense. You also felt the pull and ringing whenever he was around. As for opposites attract, that couldn’t be truer to the two of you. He rose to power by causing pain and carnage, abusing the souls he collected for his own gain. Meanwhile you were doing the exact opposite - protecting, healing, doing good for damned lesser souls.

“Okay say I believe all this - Seems like you would only want to use me and keep me around to feed your own power-hungry needs. I will not be some pet, locked away and only played with when it is convenient for you!” Your words come out involuntarily tearful. A pain burns in your chest at the realization that you wanted him to want you. Rule #3̸̭͗.̴̠̇ ̴͔̉N̷̙̉e̷̞͌v̶̪̾e̶̼̽r̶͍̈́ ̶̜̏b̷͈́ȓ̸͈ì̶̲n̶͚̍g̶̣̕ ̸̙̀a̷̼̚n̷̠̆y̶̺̕ö̶̫́n̷̯̈́e̶̤̅ ̷̯̽ť̷̪o̴̻̾o̵̱̚ ̷͙̃c̵͙̽l̴̞̋o̷̦̓s̵̪̎e̸̦̚

Seeing the worry flash across your face, Alastor grabs you with both hands and presses his lips into yours. Last night his kiss felt lustful and hungry. Not tonight. Right now, he kissed you like he would lose everything if he couldn’t have you.

He breaks the embrace, resting his forehead on yours, “I was never a good man. I will never be redeemed, nor do I want that for myself. I am selfish and possessive over the things I want. I will not lie to you, I want power. But I also want you. Not as a pet. Not as a tool. As an equal. Working together, not even the King of Hell can stand against us.” His words were calculated, voice smooth like whiskey – and you were drinking in every drop.  

The list. Stick to the list. This has death written all over it. You can’t help anyone if you’re (more) dead, come on use the LIST! Rule #1̷̨͠.̷̗̓ ̴̡͝N̴͙̒e̶͐ͅṽ̷̬ẽ̴̲r̶̖͗ ̵̟́t̸̥̕ṛ̵̃ȗ̴̢s̶̙̃t̵̠̕ ̸̛̜à̶̭ǹ̷̫ọ̶͂ṯ̵̃h̸̢̒e̶̜̋r̶̳̒ ̸̯̓O̴̳̓v̷̖͑e̴͎̅r̸̮̀l̴̼͐o̶͚̕ȑ̴͕d̸̝̎

You pull his hands away, holding them between your fingers as you draw nervous little circles in his palms. “Alastor this is…a lot to take in. Your words are striking, but I need more. Prove I can trust you. Prove you want me by your side. Then maybe, maybe, I will consider your offer. Until then, I think it’s best we don’t speak about this to anyone. Deal?”

Alastor’s smile was soft with half-lidded eyes. “Consider it, a deal.” He leans into you as green and pink light flashes around the room. Your first deal with the Radio Demon, sealed with a kiss. 

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers

[dumbasslesbi2]

But I Thought You Had a Girlfriend?~ Chapter 1 (Agatha x Rio Students AU)

Chapter 2

Summary:

Agatha and Wanda are top students while Rio and Alice are delinquent students that everyone seems to dislike. However, Agatha can't seem to stop the crush she has on Rio even if all the rumors are true. The includes the rumor that her and Alice are dating. Rio also can't help but think the same, even if she thinks Agatha is dating Wanda. Will it all change when they're assigned as partners for an AP Art project?

Notes:

Hey y'all! I got a surprise for y'all, this one's gonna be a mini series! I'm thinking either 3 or 4 chapters, still undecided but ya this should be fun! Hope y'all enjoy, as always please tell me if there's any misspelling or grammatically incorrect stuff, I have dyslexia so sometimes I miss so stuff.

Agatha Harkness had always been the top of classes no matter what. She always needed to have the best score possible on her tests and refused to settle for a B. She couldn’t help herself, she had always been a “Type A personality” since she was little. Agatha was THE A+ student but that didn’t mean she was exactly the top in social settings. Because she was so high achieving she also had been known to argue with anyone and always needed things her way. Because of this, Wanda was pretty much her only friend. Wanda and Agatha had been friends since middle school and have been inseparable since then. She was always bubbly and nice but when Wanda needed help Agatha was always there. If Wanda got into an argument with someone, Agatha was always there to back her up. Agatha was basically Wanda’s guard dog, everyone knew not to mess with Wanda unless they wanted to deal with Agatha. The only person who didn’t care about this was Jen. She was the only person in the school who dared to compete with Agatha and try and beat her perfect scores. This only made Agatha try harder and constantly bicker with Jen.

On the other end of this high scoring social tree was Rio Vidal. Rio had always been barely skating by in her test scores and grades. She cared more about art and gardening than any of her homework or tests. She would skip classes to smoke weed in the bathrooms with her friend Alice or she would go to class but just draw in her sketchbook the whole time. Rio was definitely more of a “Type B personality” when it came to school and thought she would figure out what she would do with her life when she got there. In her mind she was still young and could afford to live life rather than care about school. Her and Alice were deemed as wallflowers and nobody in the school bothered them since people thought they were ”wastes of space” or “bums”. In reality they were just two teens who didn’t know what they wanted but people still thought of them as delinquents. Well actually that was a lie, Rio did know she wanted one thing. She wanted Agatha. However, she thought she couldn’t have her, she thought Wanda had her. A rumor had gone around the school that Wanda and Agatha were dating, which Rio thought was 100% true. It was no secret that Agatha was a lesbian and because of this people thought her and Wanda were dating. In reality, they were just BFFs, Agatha held no romantic feelings for Wanda. However, she did hold romantic feelings for one girl, Rio Vidal. Her and Rio had one class together, AP art. While Agatha did enjoy regular school subjects, she still had a creative bone and found painting as a nice get away from all her troubles. She sat a table away from Rio and would admire her, she thought she was like an angel, flung out of space. However, she thought she couldn’t have her, she thought Alice had her.

Similar to Agatha, Rio was also a lesbian and didn’t make it a secret either. Alice got roped in just like Wanda and a rumor had spreaded saying that Alice and Rio were in a relationship. Rio had moved into town their freshman year and Alice was the only one who spoke to Rio, which caused them to become best friends. They weren’t in a romantic relationship whatsoever and in fact Alice found the rumor annoying because she was trying to get a boyfriend. Alice would constantly joke that Rio had cockblocked her to which Rio would always tell her to give it some time and the rumor would go away, but it never did. Rio found the rumor annoying since she wanted Agatha more than anyone. Rio was happy they at least shared one class together but she was always too scared to talk to her. She knew she had to find the courage soon since it was their senior year and knowing Agatha she probably wanted to go to a four year University like Yale or Harvard, while Rio would end up going to community college which wasn’t bad but she knew they would be separated. What Rio and Agatha didn’t know is that the cards would play in their favors. As part of their portfolio of their AP art test, their teacher assigned them to co work in atleast one piece with randomly assigned partners, which led Rio and Agatha to be paired. “Uh hi” said Rio holding up her hand with a wave, heading over to Agatha’s table. “Hey, I guess we’ll be stuck with each other for the next month” Agatha said with a giggle, trying to play off how nervous she was to be partnered with her crush. “ Ya I guess so, hope you don’t mind being stuck with me” Rio said, sitting down, avoiding eye contact with Agatha. “I don’t mind, I don’t care what people talk. If anything I’m shocked you don’t mind being stuck with me” Agatha told Rio, Pulling out her watercolor sets. “Heh, true I guess, anyways any ideas for the piece? I know you mostly do watercolor paintings but I feel we can do some mix media? I also have some gouache if you wanna try that maybe?” Rio asked, trying to change the subject. “ I’ve never worked with gouache but I’m not one to be scared of trying new things” Agatha said biting her nail while looking at Rio, hoping she wasn’t looking too desperate. Rio on the other hand was trying to calm herself down. While she was good at hiding her feelings, on the inside she was always panicking. “Duly noted, I can bring them in on Monday if you want to try it out?” Rio asked, taking a silent gulp before looking back at Agatha. “What are you doing this weekend? We can try to work on it in my mini studio” said Agatha, writing down her address on a piece of paper. “Mini studio?” Rio questioned. “Ya, my mom’s an artist, you didn’t know? My mom’s Evanora” Agatha said, semi shocked Rio didn’t know. Everyone knew who Agatha’s mother was, which is another reason why people didn’t mess with her. She never liked to gloat about it and wanted to become her own person, outside of her mother’s shadow. However, all she wanted was her mother’s approval of her which is why she always strived for such high grades. Agatha would never admit it though, she refused to admit something so weak as that. She handed Rio the paper, “my number is also on there, text me what times you’re free. My mom’s out all weekend so we should be good for any time you wanna come over” Agatha said, packing her bag before the bell rang. “I have to get to AP Lit right now but I hope you’ll text me” she said to Rio with a smile. “Yeah, I’ll text you later today. Good luck in class” Rio said, immediately regretting saying good luck, she felt like such a nerd after saying it. “Heh, thanks, see you later” Agatha said, blowing a kiss. She could tell Rio was flustered, she didn’t care if Rio had a girlfriend, one way or another she would have her. 

Once lunch started Rio went straight to Alice to catch her up on everything. She texted her as much as she could in her algebra class without getting caught. She really didn’t want to deal with the teacher taking her phone again. “Alice this is fucking insane” Rio said, sitting down at the table. “Rio, you need to tell me everything like now! How the fuck were you able to get not only her address but her number too????!” Alice said in other shock, trying not to scream. “It’s even more than that, she blew me a kiss?!?!? I’m so confused, I thought she was dating Wanda?” she told Alice, also trying to keep her voice down, hoping no one in the cafeteria will hear them. “Well what if it was just a rumor? Remember how people thought we were dating? Maybe they have the same thing going on, there’s no way they’re dating if she’s doing stuff like that in classes. Plus she’s like gonna be valedictorian, I don’t see why miss perfect would ruin her reputation like that” said Alice, biting into her apple. “Thought? Alot of people still think it” Rio said, groaning at the remembrance. “I guess it could be a rumor though. God, I hope its a rumor. I really like her, she’s just so pretty. Like did you see what she’s wearing today? She even-” “Rio, listen I love you but we’ve talked about this. I don’t mind talking about her but I can’t take it when you go off like this” Alice told Rio, interrupting her before she went into another rant. On the other side of the cafeteria Agatha went to Wanda who was talking to Vision, a new transfer student from Britain that Wanda had a huge crush on. Honestly Agatha was hoping the two would get together soon since she felt the two were a good match. “Hey Wanda, hey Vision. Sorry to interrupt but I need Wanda for a moment, kind of a girl talk if you don’t mind” Agatha said to the two, knowing Wanda was about to kill her. “Oh yeah, sure. I’ll see you after school then Wanda?” Vision said, getting up from the table. “Of course, see you after school” Wanda said, smiling up at him. As Vision walked away, Agatha sat down quickly. “Agatha this better be good, I swea-” “I gave Rio my number and address during art class today” Agatha interrupted immediately. “Oh. My. God. Agatha! I'm so happy for you!” Wanda said, putting her arms around Agatha. “Wait a minute, isn’t she dating Alice?” Wanda questioned, looking at Agatha questionably. “And? I’m better than Alice in every way. She deserves someone better if they are. Plus she would have brought that up when I gave her my number and address, what couple wouldn’t have weekend plans?” Agatha said, not caring at all. “I guess but still, you should ask her when she comes over or like bring it up subtly” Wanda said, taking a bite of her lunch. “Great idea Wanda. “Hey Rio do you have a girlfriend”. What am I, desperate? I can’t just ask her” Agatha said with a huff. “Hey, I’m only trying to help. Unless you want to stay single forever” Wanda told Agatha with a pout. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just stressed out” Agatha said, eating her cafeteria pizza. “I know, I just want you to be happy, you know?” Wanda said, putting and arm around Agatha. “I know, thank you” she said, returning the hug to Wanda. 

Once Rio got home after school she went up to her room and immediately started texting Agatha.

Hey Agatha, It’s Rio from AP Art :). I’m free tomorrow all day so just let me know what time you want me to come over!

Hi Rio! For sure, how does 12 sound? 

Sounds perfect, see you then!

See you tomorrow <3

Rio was freaking out, Agatha sent her a heart. She immediately took a secret screenshot and sent it to Alice who texted her back almost immediately 

DUDE!!!! SHE WANTS U SO BAD

I don’t know about that but I just hope this isn’t like straight girls flirting :(. Like you said, Wanda and her being a couple was probably a rumor, so she’s probably straight 

Rio, ur kidding me. Rio she’s a fucking lesbian. THE WHOLE SCHOOL KNOWS. SHE STATED PUBLICLY SHE’S A LESBIAN?!?!? DID U NOT SEE HER INSTA?!?!?!?

Wait what? You know I deleted Instagram a while ago 

RIO IT’S IN HER BIO

Rio received a screenshot of Agatha’s instagram and in her bio did in fact say “Loud and Proud” with a gay flag emoji. Rio couldn’t believe her eyes and was panicking. How did she never notice that Agatha liked her back? That night Rio almost couldn’t go to bed because of how nervous but excited she was for tomorrow. She was debating if she should take flowers or something as a gift before she went to Agatha’s tomorrow. Rio never expected this to happen but she was more than ready for it to do it. She was going to make Agatha Harkness her’s even if she had to fight to make it happen. At the same time Agatha was in her room on facetime with Wanda deciding what to wear for tomorrow. “Wanda I love you but everything you’re suggesting I can’t wear! She thinks we’re going to be painting! I can’t wear a tight dress like this if we’re painting, I’m going to be ruining my best clothes!” Agatha yelled out, grunting as she was still unsure of what to wear. “Ok but I want her to be shocked, Agatha, we need to show her how hot you can be. Remember that club we went to last week, people couldn’t keep their eyes off of you” Wanda exclaimed. “Yeah, and they were all guys Wanda! Women’s eyes aren’t the same as men, don’t think so lowly of women” said Agatha, still rummaging through her closet. “Agatha I can literally pull up a text from two weeks ago of you talking about Rio in a low cut shirt” Wanda told Agatha in a deadpan tone. “Okay! I get it!” Agatha exclaimed, pulling out more clothes. “What about these overalls and this shirt?” Agatha said, pulling out a striped purple and black shirt with navy blue overalls. “Cute! I think that’s it!” said Wanda, doing a little happy dance. “Also do you think this looks good for Vision?” Wanda asked, showing up a sundress that would hug her in all the right places. “If he doesn’t ask you to be his girlfriend after seeing you in that, it’s over” Agatha said with an eye roll. “Yay! Thanks Agatha! I’m gonna go to bed now so I don’t feel too tired when I see him tomorrow. Good luck getting Rio! Love ya!” Wanda said before hitting the end call button. “Love you too, good luck tomorrow!” Agatha said, hanging up the call. After Agatha got ready for bed she flopped on, hoping the best for tomorrow. She knew everything would go well, just like she always tells herself but she can’t help but feel a bit nervous. She knew one way or another, she would make Rio Vidal her girlfriend.

[lou-struck]

Cake Face

Miya Twins x reader

~Flufftober Day 6: B-day Fic

W.C. 1.6k

~ It's the Twin's Birthday, and you are given the most important tasks of the day.

a/n: Sorry i'm a few days late on this one, I really hope you enjoy this. I posted it last night but my tags went weird on me again.

"Thank you guys for doing this." you pant, glancing back at the two handsome twins fighting their way up your apartment complex's narrow staircase. The light gray carpeted steps are hardly wide enough for one person, but the Miya twins are shoulder to shoulder trying to be the one to reach the top first. 

Even in their twenties, men can't seem to stop competing with each other, especially when it comes to you, a fact that is painfully obvious to everyone else in the world except you. 

Which is why both twins agreed to come and help you move the new and very heavy washer and dryer that got delivered to your front door the other day. On their birthdays no less. 

But little did they know there was no washer and dryer set. 

Your apartment doesn't even have the hookups for them.

But what is waiting for them is a well-planned surprise party just on the other side of your door, along with all their friends who know exactly how to wrangle the twins. 

"No problem, y/n," Astumu grins, springing forward and gaining the lead in the odd little race they are having. "But did ya really hafta invite Samu? I coulda moved the stuff all on my own." The volleyball star rolls up his sleeve to show you his bicep earning a snort from his brother. 

"No way, m' the better option for sure; I have to move heavy equipment at the restaurant all the time. But I can't believe the elevator to yer 8th-floor apartment broke down today.

"Yeah, me too," you say, thankful that they cannot see your poor excuse for a poker face. In truth, the elevator is running fine, but the twins showed up early and their guests were still arriving for the party. In short, you needed a distraction. "Well, it looks like we made it."

You open the door that leads from the stairwell to your hallway just to check to see if the coast is clear, and you won't have to find a way to stall them; thankfully, the coast is clear as you proceed. 

"Hey, I thought the dryer was in the hall," Astumu says, and you curse his strangely observant nature. 

"Did someone take it?" Osamu asks, narrowing his eyes. 

"No, not at all," you say, thinking up the best excuse you can. "I started moving them inside, but once they got through the door, I just didn't have the strength to move them any further." 

Nice one.

"What! Why would ya do that?" Atsumu gawks, looking at you with eyes full of worry. 

"Ya coulda gotten hurt," Osamu adds.

"It's fine, I promise," you say, placing your hand on the doorknob. "That's why I called you guys for help; you're just so strong and capable that I knew I could trust you." They eat up that little line like chipmunks with Trail mix, and you know you can get this party started. 

Fighting your eagerness, you twist the knob until the door opens, and you step into your darkened apartment with the guests of honor in tow. 

"Damn, it's dark in here." Osamu comments, "how do you see anything in here?"

As if on cue, the kitchen light flicks on, bathing your apartment in light, and your guests of honor are greeted with an eager chorus of "Surprise." Dozens of partygoers spring up from every corner of your one-bedroom apartment. 

The twins stand in your doorway with identical looks of shock and awe on their faces. Your chest swells with pride as they take in the sight. The three hours it took for you to blow up all of those balloons for the archway was totally worth it.

A pink-cheeked Bakuto stumbles forward from the crowd and smacks oversized party hats on their heads. "Hey hey hey, looks like it's party time. Thanks, y/n, for getting them here." he slurs, his breath smelling of booze and cheer. 

"No Problem, Bokuto," you smile, "it wasn't too hard getting them up here."

"Hey, whatta ya mean by that?" Osamu asks, blinking back to reality. 

"Like you don't knowww," Bokuto coos, wrapping his large arms around the two men. "You guys would do anything for y/n, which made them the perfect decoy for our surprise party plan."

Atsumu flushes bright red and tries to bat his friend's arm away. "Stop that…" he mutters lowly, unable to meet your gaze. 

"Ohhhh right," he whispers "That's a secret, sorry buddy."

"Maybe you should get some water, Bokuto," Sakusa interrupts, stepping forward and taking the slightly tipsy outside hitter out of the picture.

"So, were you surprised?" you ask, changing the subject from whatever that awkward little exchange was.

"Yeah, ya really got us," Osamu says, giving you a smile.

"Did ya really put all this together?" the blonde twin asks, admiring the little disco ball you mounted to your ceiling with a careful combination of duct tape and luck.

"With a lot of help," you say with a smile, "but if you guys just stand in the doorway, you won't enjoy it as much." you take their hands and lead them deeper into your home so they can really get their party on.

~

The party is well underway and everyone is having a great time, the twins included. They haven't stopped smiling since they first walked in the door, and you have had a great time getting to know some of their other friends they played volleyball with in high school. You just finished teaching Tobio Kageyama how to take a jello shot when someone flicks the lights. 

"Hey, Thing One and Thing Two, get in here; it's time for cake," a tall man with deep red hair calls in a sing-song voice. 

You follow the crowd into the kitchen and find the twins sat at your kitchen table as two amazingly frosted personal cakes are slid in front of them. Their party hats are slanted just so, and with the birthday banner pinned to the wall behind them, you can't help but reach for your cell phone. 

"Wait, that would be a great photo," you say, making your way to the front of the crowd. "Hold still for just a second, you guys."

"Wait just a second y/n, ya gotta get my good side." Atsumu grins, shooting you a wink. 

Osamu rolls his eyes and turns to look at his brother. "What good side?" 

"You may not understand the concept of Samu," the blond retorts, "Unlike you, I got the photogenic gene."

"Oh yeah, is that why you were wearing makeup in your last roster photo?" he asks, raising his brow. 

"I was not… it was just some concealer." He says lowly. "And I wouldn't've needed it if someone didn't keep me up all night with their snoring."

"Whatever you say, cake face." the gray-haired twin mutters, and you know that this could get ugly rather quickly. Your natural peacekeeping tendencies take hold of you as you creep between the two twins. 

"I'll show you a cake face," Atsumu says, turning on a dime. He is completely prepared to smash his brother's face into his little cake but freezes when his face is just inches away from yours. His hot breath fans your skin as you stare deeply into his chocolate-colored eyes. You gulp, having never realized how warm they looked before. 

"Get away from me, ya creep," Osamu says, placing a warm hand on your shoulder and pulling you backward into his chest, and you feel this strange sense of comfort in his embrace.

Why is his heart beating so fast?

Why is yours?

What is happening to you?

The flash of a camera brings you back to reality as you see Suna has taken your place as the group photographer. "Alright, everyone, get close; you stay there, y/n; I'd hate for something to happen to those cakes. Especially since they are frosted soooo carefully."

You meet the middle blocker's gaze, and he shoots you a knowing look, and your earlier flusteredness is forgotten as the devil on your shoulder whispers into your ear. "Come on guys, just one more picture?" you ask the twins sweetly. 

"Fine, just one more." Osamu huffs, "But you gotta be in it."

"If that's what you want," you say, wrapping your arms around the pair and looking up at the camera. You feel the way their muscles relax under your touch, and you don't notice the heavy blush on their cheeks.

Just as the camera shutters, you press both of their faces into the cakes, and the room erupts into laughter as the brothers come up from the soft sugar-scented sponge. Frosting coats their handsome faces, and as they take in the oother'sappearance, they begin to laugh as well.

"Now, who's the cake face?" Atsumu chuckles, wiping a bit of frosting from his cheek. 

"So ya admit it then?" Osamu laughs, licking a bit of the sugar from the corner of his mouth. 

"Look what I got," Bokuto calls, wheeling in the real cake with a big smile. The room flocks to him, leaving you alone with the cake-covered twins. Sneakily, you start to back away but are stopped by twin arms blocking your path. "And where do ya think yer going y/n?"

"Yeah, ya little troublemaker, there's a lot of frosting on my face, and ya gotta help me get it off." Atsumu laughs, leaning toward you with a wink. 

You let out a squeal and try to slip away from the impending cake smash, only to be held tightly in Osamu's arms. "Sorry, y/n, yer not gettin' away with this." 

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

[katsukikitten]

Warnings: Body horror, Violence, child abuse. This is a work of fiction intended to be consumed by those who are 18 or older. If you are not 18 or older dni.

Mafia Heir Bakugou Katsuki, Guard Izuku Midoriya x reader.

The sound of a metal bay door clangs to life, shoved open by two strong hands as the gears echo their groans to the warehouse.

His lip twitches, brows furrowed as he sneers at the contents of the space dimly lit from the flickering lamps on the dock outside.

Two large shipments sit side by side, covered in black tarp sitting atop wooden pallets so fresh that the smell of pine competes heavily with the stagnant bay.

"How did those idiots forget both?!" He hisses under his breath, white paper cigarette bouncing between his lips as he pats himself down for his phone to call the more volatile buyer but before he can hit the contact the harsh fluorescent lights buzz to life overhead.

"Who the fuck-" He draws his gun but his threat dies quickly on his tongue. Mouth agape as his lit cigarette falls into a puddle formed from the neglected roof.

"Those 'idiots' didn't forget either shipment." Your voice rings out and when the goon spies you he sees you sitting atop what was supposed to be your shipment. You're looking over your claws, paying him no mind as if you were bored and seemingly alone. Although the man would have to be a fool to think that you alone wasn't the worst option he had.

"I have some questions. About my shipment." You hop down from the pallet stacked with pristine products taller than yourself. Pulling down the tarp and the one next to it that was supposed to be delivered tonight, to him.

"Can you spot the difference, Tadashi?" You give the man your back, stepping backwards and your heels clack. Echoing around the silent warehouse, "See how mine is a little bit shorter?"

Your dark eyes flash to him, close enough he can smell your expensive perfume and tonight you're dressed to the nines.

Tonight was supposed to be the meeting of clan heads by the surrounding syndicates. Your shipment was to be delivered by morning and the other was rushed to tonight.

"I don't see that. No ma'am." He can't even see any difference from where you sat on top of the heavily Saran wrapped white bricks. You were by no means a small woman either, strong in stature and you were not called Madame Morte for nothing. Your laugh catches him off guard, it's pretty, the sound contagious and the only reason he doesn't laugh along with you is because he knows exactly who you are.

But that didn't stop him from his little fuck up did it?

He swallows thickly and you smile up at him.

"Hmm that's funny then isn't it? A half inch difference is clear as day. So something must be wrong right? Especially since you take good care to make every brick the exact same weight, size and dimension." You walk over to the two shipments and take one brick off of each, holding them up where he can see the miniscule difference that he tried to pad up with extra wrapping. What's concerning is that the obvious ones shouldn't have been on the outside, he was careful with everyone else, more careful with you. Sure to wait until comfort had sat in and that the head wouldn't bother with the shipments and goons never look past the outside layers, normally that was after five shipments and this was your sixth.

"Ya know I found this one in the middle, about three layers were like this," You cut the brick open with your sharp claws the white substance flutters down onto Tadashi's shoes, "But there weren't bricks like this in the Red Dragon's shipment. Not. One. Single. Brick."

You walk back to return the brick from the opposing stack, ass swaying in that body con black dress and Tadashi tries to look everywhere but. He's seen you gouge out the eyes of anyone who lingered over your body for too long, he was sure it's why you kept those nails so sharp.

"You're a chemist right? Specializing in Bliss, especially correct?" Swiping your middle finger over the substance rubbing it between your digit and thumb, "So you know the chemical structure of bliss right?"

"Yes ma'am."

"I have a chemist as well, she isn't as smart as you, at least not according to everyone else, but do you know what she found in over half of this brick? A different structure. Baking powder." You're still smiling, still cherry sweet with the hint of deadly poison in your eyes before it turns into pure acidic venom, "So which is it? Are you an idiot or are you fuckin lyin to me?"

"N-neither ma'am." You roll your eyes and your done up lashes flutter wildly from the action.

"Liar then." You snap your fingers and a large man with emerald green curls shoves a woman and her two children into the light. Tadashi's eyes widen with horror as he looks over the crying half family.

His family.

"I'm sure since you have no issue lying in front of me, you'll have no issue lying in front of your family." You hum, cradling the woman's jaw in your hand, tapping the tip of a sharp claw to her cheek. The kids cling to their mother with tears in their eyes, their quirks flaring in their time of stress.

"Guess you weren't the smartest chemist underground after all. Pay attention kids, this is what happens to liars." Patience thin, you pull out your gun from under the thigh high slit in your dress aiming the cool metal at the goon who thought he could undercut and insult you in the same breath. The guy was getting off lucky in your guard's opinion given the fact you were electing not to use your quirk.

"W-wait! Wait wait! I can prove my loyalty." He grovels, hands shaking as he holds his palms up to you. It makes you scoff and cock your gun.

"You already did with how you handled my treatment."

"Bu-but I have this- this new product." He fumbles in his pockets, a red dot appears on his chest causing him to freeze.

"'Ts fine Zuzu." You wave him off but all your guard does is move his finger from the trigger, when you glare his way he lowers his gun.

Tadashi produces a small red capsule bullet, needle at the end when he takes off the top and it makes you furrow your brow.

"And what's this?" Curiosity melting your angry features.

"Something In development for mass production. For Overhaul. His shipment is in the back." It's obvious confidence is starting to come back to his sinful face as he nods his head to a crate behind you.

"Oh Kai? Hmm. What does it do then?" By now your gun is returned to its holster and hidden away.

"Quirk deletion." Tadashi gives a nasty smile, like he's truly proud of his work, "Ya know like Allmight's guard Eraser head 'fore he died."

"Ah well let's see it then." You smooth down the fabric of your dress a final time before looking up at him when he makes no action to move.

"Wh-what?" He stammers and it grates your nerves.

"You wanna live? You want your family to live? Silence your quirk." He shrinks under the disgust evident in your sharp gaze and shapter tongue.

"I-I can't do that." His eyes dart around looking for any sign of an out but when you play these silly little games, you always go for the kill.

"That too hard? Well pick your least favorite, silence one of their quirks instead." You gesture between the two boys that whimper at the wave of your nails.

"B-but…"

"B-b-but." You mock rolling your eyes, "But it's insurance isn't it? Proof of your loyalty to me? Especially since you've already been lying. You know how I feel about liars, or at least bad ones."

He swallows, stepping closer to his family and it's obvious now he isn't going to choose himself. Looking between the two boys as their quirks flare, like he's deciding which one is worth more to him.

All while silently telling you he doesn't have an antidote.

"Make up your mind I'm already running late for an event." Quickly he grabs at the hair of his eldest son, pulling the seven year old up by his roots and pushing the needle into his throat. His yelp echos around the warehouse but the most malicious thing of it all is that even with his back to you, you can see Tadashi's smile pushing up his cheeks.

"There." He turns around, sniffling, fat tears brimming his eyes, who he's trying to fool you stents sure, you just know it sure as hell isn't you, "I'll have an antidote for you by next week."

He wipes at his face, coming closer to you, well within arm's reach. Red dot on his forehead but you've spared Tadashi once, he figures you'd spare him again.

Because what woman would let a seven year old go without their quirk not that it mattered to him either way. Good riddance if you asked him, his eldest couldn't control his quirk for shit and it was annoying anyway.

"So I've-" But his sentence is lodged in his throat, unable to get past your steely grip, your lip snarled up in disgust. Your eyes bored, dull and he's coming to realize why they call you Madame Morte from his own first hand experience.

There are legends around your quirk, rumors, that yours is similar to the Ashen King's, although yours was more painful.

Rot, slow and hungry. Greedy in the languid licks as it spread through his body starting from under your pretty hand wrapped around his thick throat. Claws digging into flesh that darkens with blight before pieces of it begin to fall away from his muscles and bones in thick chunks, scream scratching up his throat.

"M-mercyyyyyy." His voice comes out garbled before ending in incoherence as his tongue melts in his mouth, sliding down his throat and taking with it his scream. You lean forward, watching the life flicker in his eyes as he rots slowly, too slowly and only once it's been a moment or so that the flesh is separated from the body does it turn to dust at your designer clad feet.

"God has mercy. I don't." Holding his head as his neck separates from his torso before dropping him all together.

Your eyes flicker to the broken family, the children hiding in their mother's thread bare turtleneck. Tears tracking through her cheap foundation and further exposing the poorly hidden bruises on her throat. It was obvious they were malnourished and it makes you gather saliva into your mouth.

Producing a hissing spit before it lands onto a stray eyeball that turns to dust seconds later.

Izuku is already across the room, rifle slung over his broad shoulders, face stoic as he grabs onto your wrist gently. Taking out a towel to wipe off your manicured hand.

"Kaminari." You look into the shadows before he appears, golden eyes glowing like a cat.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Take care of this."

"Yes ma'am." Kaminari nods, helping the woman up to her feet as Izuku carefully slides elbow length lace gloves onto your arms, that thicken around your palms and fingers, concealing the skin. "Usual collateral payment?"

"250k this time." You spit in the direction of Tadashi or at least what's left of him, again. Just ash fluttering in the bay breeze. Denki nods, skull half mask hiding his smile as he ushers the family out.

"And get them a new apartment, would you? Their old one was a dump." You hiss before going on a small tangent as Izuku fixes your hair, "Can't believe I set foot in there, piece of shit stealing from me and couldn't even fucking provide. Another thing Denks, I need the name of the landlord of that apartment complex. I want it in my name by tomorrow. Tenants relocated."

"Whatever you wish ma'am, it is done." Denki calls back before he takes the family to the van he brought them in, now given orders to relocate.

"You should really stop using your gift when you're in designer dresses, ma'am." Izuku fusses, his emerald eyes flickering to your body as he scrutinized the fabric for any lingering he may has missed.

"Why do you think I always wear black Zuzu?" You give him that damn look, the one that makes his heart clench, the one he can't say no to. He's sure there isn't a person alive who could say no to you.

"Because you like to make every day a funeral." Izuku smooths over your dress, double checking the zipper. He's pulled his half mask down to settle around his throat the second he needed to attend to you. His eyes lingering over your jewelry to make sure it was still in tact until your claw settles under his chin. Tilting his gaze to even with yours even with him leaning closely to you.

"I'm fine. Really." You lean up on red bottomed heels to gently press your lips to his before you're settled back on your feet.

He gives you that pained look he always wears with the two of you get "unprofessional." Still it doesn't stop him from leaning over to kiss your cheek, lips grazing the corner of your mouth before he pulls away and draws the line in the sand by adjusting his half animal skull mask back over his face.

You always think the line is for you but really, it's for him. You live in blissful ignorance on what you do to him and what you allow him to do to you.

It's like you forget the lengths he's gone and still willing to go to protect you at all costs. Even if that means killing his idol. If you asked him he'd tell you he'd do it all over again.

"Aw Zuzu bear don't pout." You tease and his eyes crease in that fake smile he uses to make pretty girls swoon as he presses his broad hand to your back.

"I'll call the car Madame."

"No, no. I'll walk." He gives you a glare but doesn't fight it, talking over the coms to the two waiting outside.

Meanwhile Ochako stands outside in her suit, half mask tiger skull still secure around her pretty face, making her doe like brown eyes that much more deceiving. She flips her knife over and over in her hand. Playing with her quirk that she activates to send it higher before letting it fall back to her hand.

"She should be here by now." Ochako doesn't like waiting, makes her anxious and Sero sighs, more than used to his partner's mannerisms. Mask around his throat as he's hunched over to protect his cigarette he's trying to light from the wind.

"You know madam gets caught up sometimes. It's never anything to worry about." Sero says as he straightens himself out, watching pier bay 42 with the door open just half a block down. He watched the man go in, watched the lights come on but no red confetti yet.

He blows out smoke before his com crackles to life in his ear, Ochako's fingers twitch as the both wait for the command.

"She insists she comes to you." Izuku's voice rings in their ears.

"It's clear and we are on standby." Ochako answers as Sero tries to finish his cigarette while he can, otherwise he'd get fussed at by his pretty boss who chided him on how it would rot his lungs.

And how she would know best.

Once he sees you he flicks the butt, smothering the ember into the gravel under his designer shoe as you walk closer, your lap dog at your heels.

Izuku isn't the same kid that Sero and Ochako grew up on the streets with, no longer the shy, cautious boy he once was. Especially not after the three of them were forced to hop around for mercenary work before the clans popped up to take over the cities. Like a shadow government that the real one feared more than the masses.

The three of them were good at their jobs, Izuku the planner, Ochako the executioner and Sero the getaway driver. But being good, too good even, made them cocky. It wasn't until they went up against a syndicate they had no business trying to steal from did they learn their lesson.

Your father was ready to kill all three of them. They were just lucky enough you had forced your way into sitting in on this very important meeting moments earlier.

Bags torn from their faces and your eyes widened in delight when you saw they were all the same age as you at the time. The ripe age of fifteen.

"Oh Father, killing them would only be a waste of their potential." Sero remembers how you looked, how you still make that face to this day and often. Like a cat that's caught a mouse by its tail with nothing but delightful day dreams of batting it around.

"I want them to train to be my new guard. They're mine now."

"Absolutely not." Your father's voice boomed around the room, making the teens shake, helpless with their wrists bound behind their backs, "You took in that blonde stray two months ago I'm not going to allow-"

"And yet who's men did they slip past? How many layers of security did they slip through? The blonde more so than them but our shit is secure now isn't it? Besides." You hop down from your father's old mahogany desk, "Princess always gets what she wants. Isn't that right?"

Your father pinches the bridge of his nose, he made a monster of you, he truly did.

He'd be lying if he wasn't proud of it, especially after what happened to your mother.

"Fine. But no more strays. That's final."

"That's fine. I won't need anyone else."

That was ten years ago and in the past decade Sero had been treated better than he could ever imagine. He has a lot of freedom for a head of a department and you've made it clear that only the four of them had the option of getting out if they wanted. No strings attached as long as they stayed silent you wouldn't look for them.

But you haven't once given them a reason to leave.

Sero fingers the swirling ink on the inside of his thick forearm, the family crest sitting proudly on display when he's driving you around, hidden in the city so he can float throat the crowd like all the other faceless nobodies.

You're graceful, even in the uneven gravel of the parking lot, smiling genuinely as you approach two people you have and would kill again for.

"Sero, Ochako, thank you for waiting. Ochako love, I have a task for you dear. Inside is a crate that Zuzu has marked would you be a doll and make sure that it gets transferred to Momo's office immediately. I'd like for you to hand deliver it and call me once you're there." You talk as Izuku helps you into the car waiting for you to finish before he shuts the door, "And you'll have no problem keeping your girlfriend company will you?"

"No ma'am." Ochako blushes as you wear your knowing cat smile. Izuku shuts the door and rounds the car to sit on the other side. Sero turns over the engine. Ready to pull away on your command.

Ochako watches her reflection in the pitch black tint retreat as the window rolls down revealing just your eyes that sparkle with that dangerous glint.

"One more thing. If you could ask her to expedite this antidote please. I've got a seven year old waiting on it."

"As you wish ma'am." Ochako nods and watches her reflection grow this time while your eyes disappear before Sero throws the car in drive and tries to salvage some of the lost time hoping to make you no later than an hour late to the most important meeting of the year.

But you wouldn't be the Princess if you weren't always fashionably late now would you?

[milkytheholy1]

Day 20: Team Awesome

"Why is Raph sulking on the couch?" Leonardo had asked, wandering into their shared living room, observing a curled-up Raph; steam rising off of his green skin.

Mikey, who was cowering away in the kitchen, turned to Leo with sorrow in his eyes, "I did a terrible thing." he muttered. Perplexed, Leo nudged Mikey to say more, but the young teen only rolled his eyes, "Okay, well, it all started when..."

Leo stared at his brother, "Erm, Mikey?" no response, "Are you doing that thing where you trail off into a flashback? You know you can't do that in real life, right? It's important to me that you know that."

No response.

But for all who want to know, the young master Michael was besting his older brother in a video game tournament. The two were known to be the best thumb tappers in all of the sewers, so it was only natural the pair wanted to host a competition to see who was the best.

It was a close game, though it had been a 'close game' for nearly four hours. The game itself? Just a simple brawl type, something Donnie had salvaged from an abandoned arcade in lower Queens. It had only been up and running for two days before Raph had conquered a new high score. From that point on it had been an all-out war between the four brothers to outdo one and another. Leo had left first, saying he had more important things to do, then it was Donatello, claiming he had to break some scientific theories.

That had only left Mikey and Raph, competing until the other failed. They'd only stop for an occasional food break, but even then, it would only last for a second before they were back on the machine.

"Ya better just give up now, Mikey. Ain't no way ya beatin' me!" Raph boasted, knocking his body weight against his brother. The small teen wobbled before stabilising himself, "Hey, no fair, man! That's cheating!"

Four hours turned into five hours and five hours turned into seven. Donnie had walked back into the lair to grab a glass of water, he turned his attention from his battling brothers to the time on the oven.

3.01 am.

Sighing, Donnie waltzed up to the two in a sleep-deprived daze, "Shouldn't you guys call it quits, it's getting pretty late."

"Stay out of it, nerd-atello. I'm not quittin' till Mikey fails."

"And I'm not quitting till Raph fails!"

Donnie rolled his eyes and went back to the dark depths of his lab.

----

"So you stayed up all night to win a stupid game?" Leo interjected, arms folded over his chest, "What's new?" he remarked. Mikey shook his head, "It's not just that, bro. You see..."

----

Mikey was the first to yawn, sparking some attention from Raph, "Uh ohhh, looks like ya gettin' tired there, Mike. Ya better head off to bed."

"And leave you to get the high score? No way, dude! I'm staying up all night to beat your butt!" Mikey declared, forcing back another yawn. Another hour had passed, both boys were feeling completely dead on the inside, slow eyes barely blinking as they mindlessly pressed buttons. And that's when it happened, Raph, who at this point was fighting the battle one-handed while his other hand lay under his chin, had slipped. His head fell, quickly hitting the thumb-pad and ultimately losing a point in the game.

This now meant Raph could no longer get the high score.

Mikey jumped up in realisation, screaming at the top of his lungs, "I did it! I DID IT! In your face, Raph! Suck it!" he started doing a little victory dance. Raph scowled, he was suddenly full of energy. Grabbing the machine in a violent grasp, he began shaking it, "No fair, I fell asleep! I want a rematch!"

"Nu-uh, I'm retiring as the ultimate champion."

"Ya can't just do that?"

"I believe it says so right here!" Mikey laughed, pointing to his butt. Raph growled and sulked away to the couch, giving Mikey the silent treatment.

----

"So now you understand the terrible thing I've done." Mikey solemnly said, head down and shoulders slumped. Leonardo held back a laugh, Mikey clearly felt guilty, but Leo reminded him that at the end of the day, Mikey used his skill and some luck and won fairly. He did suggest apologising to Raph with some pizza and scary movies, which Mikey happily obliged with.

[katasstrophy]

I feel like I've seen every Bluelock boy paired with a very cute, very bubbly, and chill gf/reader before, but I haven't seen any of them paired with a cool and competent or even bossier type. Are there any guys you think of liking that type??? Or maybe just deserve that type to be kept in line lmao 🤣

nonnie!! 😳 NONNIE UR BRAIN I’M GIVING IT A THOUSAND KISSES UR SOOO RIGHT FOR THIS!!! i guess it doesn’t really show with the fics i’ve uploaded so far – which is a damn shame, i should fix that – but i am absolutely all for readers who are just… out there, ya know? they’re prickly, or easy to anger, or sardonic as all hell, or way too clever for their own good or yes yes, bossy<3 i eat that shit UP like it’s my last meal. this is not to say i don’t enjoy sweet, bubbly readers (bc i do!) but the type you describe just… scratches a certain itch iykwim 👁️👁️

i think one of my first posts ever about blue lock on this blog (cw. mid writing LMAO) was exactly about this. obviously most of the blue lock guys are only extreme egoists when they’re playing soccer, but i do think that aspect of their lives will ultimately start to bleed into their personality as they grow up/go pro. so having someone who’s just like “yeah that’s great and all but if you won’t make it to date night i’ll leave your sorry ass” is just. so sexy to them like?? they haven’t gotten their ego knocked down a peg in a while so i think they’d be drawn to a partner like that askdhxnbz idk if i’m explaining this very well but as far as i’m concerned all blue lock boys deserve an unhinged reader lol 😤

THAT BEING SAID!!! >:))) i have a top three list of blue lock men who i, personally, would love to put in their place and encourage anyone out there to do so as well LOL

1. MICHAEL KAISER — this cocky motherfucker ugh need i say more 🙄 the urge to censor his name was real strong but i persevered still cannot believe i’m (sadly) attracted to this horrible, horrible man. he’s sooo insufferable and just so obsessed with himself like he unironically refers to himself as the emperor when i tell you there’s nothing i want more than to make this man beg on his knees i mean it – what a pretty sight that would be hm? <3 all his past lovers probably treated him like he was god’s greatest gift to women (HE IS NOT) – and by now he’s not only used to it but comes to expect it – so when he meets you and you’re like “mm you’re kind of a prick leave me alone thenk yew✨✨” he’s just. so scandalized LMFAO suddenly he’s the one chasing after you and vying for a shred of your attention oooohh yes that’s exactly what he deserves how it should be

2. ITOSHI SAE — listen he might be my precious babygirl now but i used to hate this mans guts like no other and that little resentment still lives on in my heart in the form of wanting this man’s downfall to be a woman like don’t tell me that’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. he’s just so single-mindedly focused on soccer – japan’s treasure and what not – and thinks he can get away with being an asshole because of it but you place down your foot and tell him to cut the bullshit or you’ll find someone who treats you better (AMEN SISTER) and suddenly he’s grappling with the reality that shit he might just fall apart without you yes girl make him suffer

3. OLIVER AIKU — i couldn’t not include the resident fuckboy here mmmm the possibilities for him are endless and each one more delicious than the last. he might not be as insufferable as the others but he still thinks extremely highly of himself, especially when it comes to his way with the ladies. typical “oh no i don’t do relationships” kinda guy who can show you a good time for a night before dipping in the morning – and you just don’t want that. so you reject his advances, say you’re not interested and move on, but for some reason, oliver can’t. literally physically wounds his pride when he crawls back for a second chance but you don’t budge, still wary of him due to his past behavior unless he can show you otherwise. and the way he scrambles to prove himself as trustworthy to you? god tier groveling from a man YUMM