#even Spike had more luck than you
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zerguette · 3 months ago
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*Grabby hands* Can I perhaps request... Opal and/or Soveigna? OwO
Yes you can make it angst if you want x3
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If it can't be understood: (Me trying to do writing to explain three drawins lets go.)
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"Hey Opal, I think I'm gonna be your fish in the sky" Soveigna said. It is pretty weird for her to say something...grammarly correct, given her stiffness at talking. Though talking to Opan had never been a problem, maybe at first, but not now, not after discussing the 'problem'.
"Sov', whatever you say won't make me change my mind." Crossed arms, wearing that sky blue uniform. The same hair, red, black and some purple, it's not like Soveigna haven't met Opal in the past. She has seen her many times in her previous lives, but for the first time, trying to admire all her beauty, eyelashes, lips, her gaze, for the first time it really feels....like a need.
'What happens when a character is erased from the universe they were born? How does the timeline fills that gap? It's a rule the CCC knows well, the universe will try rebuilding the same character again, that person that is missing, but it's not going to be, in fact, the same person.'
Sovelna Harshal is not Soveigna Harshal, Opal.
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I'll never me emotional okay with these two. Opal, I'am sorry i deleted your girlfriend, maybe you should have paid more attention and not lost herself into your own rules and ideals mhm mhm -goes to cry-
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shushmal · 3 months ago
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Eddie sits and watches Steve’s kitchen clock slowly count closer and closer to their movie time—closer, then past. It’s 30 minutes gone from showtime when he hears the bathroom door upstairs close and shut, and Steve’s bedroom door quietly doing the same.
Wincing, Eddie counts down slowly from 100, lets Steve wallow for a bit, before he gets down from his stool to head up.
“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, sitting beside the lump under Steve’s blankets. The lump does not reply. “Baby, you okay?”
“No,” it whines, and Eddie’s glad Steve has shoved his head under his pillow because Eddie can’t help cracking a smile. “I’m dying, and I’m a shitty boyfriend, and you’re going to dump me.”
Eddie scoffs. “The day I dump you is the day you send me to the funny farm,” he says, mock serious. “You do shit a lot though, babydoll.”
Steve whines louder. “It’s not fair! You eat expired hotdogs! Raw! Straight from the fridge!!”
“Guts of steel, Stevie! Your upper middle class suburban tummy would shrivel and die in the face of things I’ve eaten.”
“It’s shriveled and died already, thanks.”
Eddie laughs, and rubs his hand along Steve’s arm. He knows better than touching him anywhere else when Steve’s stomach is upset. But the fact that he’s in bed, under the covers, must mean the worst is over.
“You want me to get you anything?”
“New organs and a surgeon to put them in.”
“I was thinking more like water? Toast? Pepto?”
“A quick and painless death?”
“I’m afraid I can only offer you kisses and cuddles when you feel up for it. And the aforementioned consumable items.”
Steve’s head comes out from under the pillow and he squints at Eddie. His hair is standing up in wild spikes, and Eddie chews his lip to keep himself from laughing.
“Who the fuck says shit like aforementioned, you absolute dork.”
“You love me,” Eddie says, grinning.
Wrinkling his nose, Steve sighs, flopping back down on the bed. “I guess,” he admits, looking up at Eddie through his lashes with a little, miserable smile, and taking Eddie’s breath away. Even when he’s miserable and whiny, Steve remains the prettiest person Eddie’s ever had the luck to lay eyes on. “I guess I’ll take a water. And a kiss, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Eddie grins, leaning down. “Anything for you, princess.”
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luveline · 4 months ago
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begging on my hands and knees (if you haven’t already) for you to write something about Aaron during the birth of your child 🥲🥲 and jack’s reaction to meeting his new sibling
You suffer through labour, Aaron dotes, and Jack meets his baby sister. fem, 2k
cw for labour/delivery, no graphic imagery
For some people, giving birth is a fast affair. Dilation occurs quickly, and after twenty or so pushes, a baby is born. Some people can go into labour and be finished within the hour. 
You, unfortunately, have not had that kind of luck. And that’s okay —it’s also entirely normal for this process to be difficult. Doesn’t make it hurt any less to watch, but Aaron has thick skin. Who cares what he’s feeling? You’re about to have a baby. 
He stands at the head of the bed with his arm over your pillow, tired despite himself, a styrofoam cup of ice chips in his hand. He presses it to your cheek, and every couple of minutes he changes it to the other one. Your forehead is wet with sweat, your face puffy with sobbing tears, but you’re beautiful in your sleep. Beautiful to him. 
He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead where he stays for some time. Your heart monitor beeps. 
A few minutes later, your heart monitor jumps. A strike of pain to warn of an oncoming contraction. 
You drag yourself from sleep to find his eyes. “Hi,” you whisper. 
He doesn’t know what to say. What can sum it up? Aaron doesn’t think he’s felt this many emotions in his life; he thinks of Jack, his baby face, and he thinks of Haley squishing his pink cheeks; he thinks of your hands, how chapped your palms are, how much he hates to see you crying like this; he thinks of your little baby so close to being here, and all your months of triumph and love and good luck to get to this moment. 
This is the biggest privilege of his life, in line with Jack’s birth. 
He doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but he makes himself a man who could deserve you. “Hello,” he says, pressing the back of his hand to your raging forehead. “How are you feeling?” 
“It has to be time soon.” 
“You think so? Should I find someone?” 
He speaks in solid but hushed tones, as though a raised voice might hurt you more. You find his chest to press your hand to space above his heart, where you give him a little rub back and forth. “No,” you say, tears welling in your eyes as the monitor spikes, “not yet.” 
He helps you into a sitting position which quickly becomes a bent over and keening position. Aaron obviously doesn’t know how childbirth feels, but he has experienced his own scar tissue ripping apart inside his abdomen as his organs flooded with his own blood. By the looks of it, you’re hurting worse than that. You don’t even speak. Your moans turn to panicked shouting before you get so scared your voice disappears. 
He doesn’t like it at all. He waits a good long minute with you for the pain to pass, his hand in yours as you squeeze it to mulch, his nose pressed remorsefully to your cheek. It fades like all the others. 
“I know,” he says as you start to cry in earnest, “it’s over. It’s over.” 
“It’s not over,” you snip, sniffing. 
He leans over your lap to press the button that asks for help. “You’re doing amazing.” 
It’s a hard night. At nearing one in the morning, they measure your dilation and agree it’s time to push. You tolerate it well, but it still takes two and a half hours of agony and tears. Aaron doesn’t cry, but he does feel an acute ache for you, and an excitement you probably can’t feel yourself. Every push is one step closer to the baby. 
Just after three hours, when the midwives are whispering to one another in concern and Aaron is sure he’ll never feel his left hand again, you have a baby. 
She’s snipped, cleaned up, and laid gently on your chest within seconds. You’ll never know how whole and brimming Aaron’s heart feels in that moment, to see you crying against the little forehead of your baby, to watch your arms cradle her body tenderly. 
He’s sure everyone in the room will forgive him for crying too. Just a couple of tears, smiling as you look down at her in pure joy. No shock, no sign of all that pain. 
“Oh, fuck, Aaron,” you say suddenly, to the delight of everyone in the room, “she’s got your frown.” 
She’s screaming, as babies tend to do. Aaron presses himself as close as he can to confirm the wrinkle between her brows. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek. 
You breathe out deeply. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 
Sorry for the pain and gunk. You forgive him for everything. 
You’re feeling nearly yourself again when morning comes, Aaron can tell. Showered, changed, swaddled with post-labour padding and with half a sandwich in your stomach, he can nearly forget the sound of your panicked crying. You’re hoarse as though you’ve been out for the night with friends, whispering clumsy love notes to your daughter where she naps in your lap. 
“So pretty,” you say, running an awed fingertip over her nose, “so beautiful, baby. You’re so beautiful. Look at your liccle nose.” You dip into sugar. “Aw, look at your nose.” 
“That’s your nose,” he says. 
“I think so.” 
She’s a baby so it’s hard to say for sure, but Aaron hopes she has your lovely nose and that she looks exactly like you, if she only keeps his wrinkled brow. 
You lean back. The bed has been wiped down and changed, your pillow from home propped behind your shoulders. Jack’s good luck talisman sits on the night table, waiting for him to visit. Aaron has been away for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and still he misses him after not seeing him these last eighteen hours. 
“He’s on his way, right?” you ask, noticing Aaron’s quiet. 
Aaron picks up Mr. Bear where he sits on the nightstand and massages the teddy’s arms and stomach. “Can’t you hear him?”
“My sister!” Jack is saying, words too fast to pick up each one, “Jess, we have to be faster!” 
“I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart!” 
Aaron meets him at the door. Jack sees his father, probably just the shape of him, and starts to run down the hallway. He slams into Aaron’s legs, who pulls him up against his chest for a two-armed hug that he couldn’t need more. 
“Jackers,” he says in relief.
“Dad, put me down!” He must see you over Aaron’s shoulder. “Y/N! You’re okay!” 
“I’m more than okay, handsome! Were you worried about me?” 
“Is that my baby?” he says, rubbing his eyes with both hands.
You, Aaron and Jess all laugh. “Your baby sister. Are you gonna come and say hello? She’s been waiting for hours for you to wake up,” you say.
“I was waiting for her for hours first,” Jack says, climbing over Aaron’s shoulder, and then slipping back down as his father walks him into the hospital room to stop by your bed. 
Jess stays by the door. 
Aaron puts Jack on the bed beside you where there’s not much room for him, hands clasped around his arms just in case he does something sudden. “Oh,” Jack says, breathing out slowly. “Wow, dad.” 
“Wow,” Aaron echoes. 
“Can I touch her?” 
Assured he’ll be careful, Aaron lets Jack loose, and the boy waits for your signal before he pokes at the baby’s fisted hand. 
“She’s really little, huh?” you ask quietly. 
“Was I this little?” 
“You were smaller,” Aaron whispers. 
“She’s a real baby, dad.” 
“She’s super real. Does she look like you pictured?” Aaron asks. 
“No, I thought she’d look more like me.” 
This is really funny to you. Careful, you hold the baby to your chest and free an arm to cup Jack’s shoulder. “Buddy, I missed you. Aunt Jess says you stayed up past your bedtime, how are you feeling?” 
He smiles and goes shy at the same time. “I’m okay. I missed you, too.” 
“That’s good, I’m feeling good too.” You sniffle. 
“Are you sure?” Jack asks. 
“This is the best day ever. My little girl meeting her big brother.” You take a steadying breath, and you turn the baby toward Jack gently. “Do you wanna hold her?” 
Jack sits against your pillows and waits with pale terror on his face for you to pass him the baby. He bends over her as soon as she’s been placed, worried she’ll tip out of his lap, and you stroke the short brown strands of his hair, crops of it moving shiny under your touch. 
Aaron takes his phone from his pocket. In his rush, he struggles to find the capture button, recording a video instead that will take up most of the memory on his old phone and that he will refuse to part with. 
“Did she look like this in your belly?” Jack asks you, frowning. 
“Not the whole time. Why, does that bother you?” 
“Was she squished?” 
“No, she wasn’t squished. ‘Member how big my belly was?” You laugh warmly. “How big it still is.” 
“Will it ever be small again?” 
“Maybe somebody. I don’t mind.” You stroke his hair again. Baby makes a wet noise. “What do you think, lovely?” 
“About your belly?” 
“About the baby.” 
“I wish I was her.” 
You stroke behind his ear. “How come?” 
“I’m so tired, I wish I was sleeping too. But she is really small.” 
Aaron catches your relieved smile before he puts down the phone. “Do you want a nap, buddy? We can take a nap.” 
“I can take him home?” Jess suggests quietly. 
Aaron thanks her for everything. When you’re feeling better, he’s sure you’ll want to introduce Jess to the baby as well, but Jess doesn’t want to impose, and Aaron lets her go without fuss. Perhaps it’s a little hard on her to see. He doesn’t know. 
But Jess is a good woman, and he knows she’ll want to meet your baby whenever you’re ready. For now, it’s just you, Aaron, Jack, and the baby Hotchner.
Aaron sits in the plastic wrapped chair by the bed and leans back to accommodate sleepy Jack, who falls asleep with little more than a back rub and his family’s proximity. You look like you could sleep, too, but you won’t put the baby in the bassinet. You hold her and watch her for a soothing stretch of time, Aaron watching you both. 
“He’ll be more enthusiastic after he’s slept,” Aaron promises. 
You pucker and press teeny kisses to the baby’s ear. “He was perfect,” you murmur. “He was so gentle. We’re so lucky.” 
Aaron reaches over to hold your hand. You indulge him with an open palm, the two of you shushing in tandem as your children rouse, both of them perfect, and both parents very lucky. 
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mochinomnoms · 11 months ago
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I'm curious about the dreams Idia was having about the reader.
(reference to this)
nsfw under read-more, minors DNI!
It's quite silly, really. Idia was never one to yearn for the touch, closeness, the affections of a person. He was fine, being alone. It was better this way. He could cope with his games and shows, online groups and friends filling the void. Besides, why would he want to drag another person into the Shroud curse? It already took one person from him, Idia couldn't stand doing it to another as long as it was up to him. Plus, he wasn't exactly prime boyfriend, let alone husband material (perhaps he did that intentionally).
So, Idia wasn't all too worried when he first started becoming friends with you. You were kinda weird, but a friend to introverts like him! Somehow always a wallflower, but always involved in the chaos of overblots and school. But, you were conscientious of his need for space and privacy; Ortho must have said something to you about his eating habits, cause you started bringing food other than chips, soda, and ramen cups for him to eat, like actual meals. You also liked to entertain Ortho, who liked when you drew silly designs on his plating, which is always a plus in Idia's book. You were sweet, like his favorite ramune soda. Despite having abysmal skills in gaming (which he was all too happy to make fun of you for) he liked having you as his support, watching him on the sidelines and being a cute cheerleader. In exchange, Idia lent you an old gaming computer and bullied tutored you in a few of his favorite games so you could be his squishy healer in raids.
But, he was a bit worried when he started feeling something more than platonic things for you. Then, he was exceptionally concerned when, at the first day of spring, Idia started coughing hydrangeas, which he managed to secretly keep under wraps from Ortho for a few weeks. No, he was downright mortified when, during those few weeks, night after night, he started having dreams of you.
They started off innocent at first: you on his lap, head on his shoulder, as he played the latest RPG. You murmured words of encouragement, sleepily nuzzling your head into his. Another, he was in the board game club, where you cheered him on as he won a match against Azul in some luck-based game. Idia remembers giving Azul a smug smirk as you threw your arms around him and pressed kisses into his cheek. He even faintly remembers one where you simply sat with him in class, fingers lacing through his in comfort as he dealt with the anxiety of being out and about.
It wasn't until he was a week in when the dreams, infested with hydrangea bouquets always at the corner of his eye, that he knew he was utterly screwed beyond belief.
It started off sweet, at first. This time, you were with him at Styx, though you looked a few years older and were wearing a similar uniform to his mother. He was wearing the uniform as well, though it more closely resembled his father's. He was now Styx head, and you, his precious little wife. The domestic stuff was fine, it made his heart rate spike up so much that Ortho questioned if he had a nightmare while sleeping, but it was fine he could deal. You did look cute… as you smiled up at him… leaned up to kiss his cheek… and whisper in his ear…
“Idiaaa~ What if I crawled under your desk and sucked you off? Do you think you could stay quiet? You can, can't you? For me~”
It was fuzzy, when he tried to remember it, but Idia remembers the heat pooling in his belly. Your hands trailing down his chest down to his hips. Your lips following after and pressing soft, slow kisses down and down until—
Idia's flames grew into a burning, hot pink as his face is in his hands the following morning. He'd actually gone to bed at a reasonable time (to him anyway, 3 am was reasonable), and woke up with that in his head? How was he supposed to function? How was he supposed to look at you, talk with you, when the last memory he had was a dream of you sucking him off???
It progressively got worse from there. It was a weird mix of erotically domestic scenarios. You, waking up to him in bed before work, riding him as you cooed sweet words. Another of the two of you heavy petting, his hands groping your ass as you curled your body into his, making out in his office before Idia had to run off to a meeting, leaving you pouting and telling him to, “Hurry back to your needy little wifey~” One of you cooking him breakfast in one of his shirts, before he bent you over the kitchen counter, after which you sat on his lap and hand fed him.
The last one that really freaked him out, which led to him further isolating himself until Ortho dragged him out to the nurse, was one where he woke up to you next to him in bed. You smiled the sweetest smile to him, whispering to Idia how much you loved him, moving over to press a trail of kisses from his lips, to his neck, down his chest and abdomen. Idia was anticipating the same follow-up from his first dream, especially as your hands reached to pull his briefs down before a soft whine, followed by a cry, interrupted you.
He had no clue what to think, as you make a surprised noise, smiling at him, as the following words left your mouth: “The baby's awake, guess we'll have to continue this later, huh?” Dream Idia giggled along with you as the two of you shared a kiss, watching as you rolled off the bed to the bassinet that he was just noticing. He watched as you cooed and murmured soft words to the small, blue-flamed haired baby, reaching their tiny hands for you. But it was the next sentence that bolted him from sleep into a dry sweat:
“Say good morning! Say, 'good morning' to your baba, my darling~”
Idia let out a screech as he flailed out of bed, tangled in his sheets. He was coughing up a storm of hydrangeas when Ortho flew in, panicked and already full of concern for Idia's health. It was then Ortho started insisting that Idia visit the infirmary, much to his chargin.
At least you'd never see him like this… right?
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pupkashi · 5 months ago
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Ok so can i request something?
Im currently on my period and i feel my insides tearing apart. Im having rough months cause my roomate who was also my best friend got in a fight with me and blamed me for everything (that wasn't even my fault) and my final term exams are here as well :((( imagine all the pressure
Can i get something soft with toru?my period is killing me and I would KILL to have this man with me rn
a/n: me when a bad bitch tells me to write comforting fluff 🫡 in all seriousness i hope this helps you even a smidge my beloved !!! i know how terrible and hurtful fights with friends can be from personal experience and i hope things get resolved for you soon <3 i love u so so so much you sweet summer child I’m so proud of you & best of luck on exams !
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sundays are your favorite days, you’ve decided.
sunday means you’ll have a warm, lanky, white haired sorcerer asleep next to you when you wake up. his arms tightly wrapped around your torso with his over grown hair tickling the back of your neck.
it’s sunday morning, and satoru is wrapped around you like a koala bear. there’s soft snores coming from the tired sorcerer, making you wonder what time he got home last night. the clock on the nightstand reads 7:42 am, making you smile. you don’t move or try to turn to face your lover, opting instead for reveling in his warm embrace, letting your eyes close softly and listening to his steady breathing.
satoru is awake by the time you wake up again, he’s drawing light circles on your bare arms. you turn around slowly, finding him laying on his side propped up on one elbow with his head in his hand. part of his hair is spiked up every which way, the other completely flat and there’s stray strands of hair all over his forehead.
“morning sweetheart” he whispers, smiling softly as he wipes away an eyelash from your cheek. the pad of his thumb brushes against your cheek, his hands are a bit calloused and rough, but you don’t care. you let your eyes close at the feeling, smiling before fluttering them open again.
“g’morning toru” you whisper back, smiling as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “d’you get back late last night?” he nods.
“first years had more trouble than i thought they would” he adds on, “you didn’t wait up did you?” there’s a pout on his lips when he sees you nodding.
“not too long though don’t worry” you assure him, flopping onto your back and staring at the ceiling, “knew youd be upset if you found me awake when you got home.” satoru smiles, you had him all figured out and he loved it.
“can’t have my baby losing sleep over me, now can i?” his voice is still raspy and deeper than usual, it makes your stomach flip and your heart stutter.
satoru moves around until he’s got his head resting on your chest, closing his eyes when your fingers find purchase in his hair. you both stay quiet for a bit, your fingers running through his hair and satoru letting his body fully relax under your touch.
“missed you” he mumbles, not opening his eyes. “wish everyday could be like this” the sigh that leaves his lips makes you frown a bit.
“don’t worry angel boy, one day it will be” you assure him, continuing to play with his hair, smiling when you form it into a giant spike before combing it down again. “for now, you wanna make breakfast?”
the sorcerer hums in agreement, standing up and stretching before the two of you head to the restroom, grabbing your respective toothbrushes.
“any plans today?” satoru asks, words jumbled and muffled thanks to the toothbrush in his mouth, but you understand him perfectly. you shake your head ‘no’ the two of you spitting and rinsing your mouths before heading to the kitchen.
there was only one way satoru would eat his veggies, and it’s if you made them in his eggs. while you chopped up some bell peppers, mushrooms and rinsed spinach, satoru put coffee to brew. small talk filling the space of the kitchen as you two slowly woke up.
it’s not long before satoru was wrapping his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he watched you cook the eggs. he’s placing soft kisses on your neck, smiling when he hears your giggles.
“your hair tickles” you laugh, making no attempt at pushing him off you.
“should i get a trim?” he asks you, laughing when you immediately respond with a quick ‘no!’
before long satoru has two coffees on the dining table, accompanied by two plates of food that you set down moments later. it’s peaceful as the two of you talk, hearing the world outside wake up, cars going up and down the street every five, ten minutes and birds singing sweetly by the bird feeder you’d set up with satoru not long ago.
“think a dove is setting up a nest in the garden” you smile, watching as your lover immediately looks up from his food excitedly.
“really? i told you we should’ve gotten the bird houses!” his eyes are gleaming as he stares out the window, smiling at the sight of two doves at the bird feeder. me and you, he thinks, staying quiet so he could continue to listen to you tell him of the new season premiere tonight.
the day passes slowly, with you two lounging on the couch watching an episode of whatever show you two had started during the week before getting ready for the grocery store.
satoru takes grocery shopping you very seriously, writing down every item you say on a paper list as you check the pantry and fridge. soon enough the two of you are on your way to the store, satoru grabbing a shopping cart and following you as you pick out everything.
he does make himself useful by getting whatever you tell him to, smiling widely when you approve of his fruit picks and sets them in the cart gently. he does all of the heavy lifting, carrying all your groceries in the house in one trip, not even breaking a sweat as he softly sets them down.
the two of you work harmoniously putting everything away, never once bumping into each other and easily understanding what the other wants without having to say a word.
“should we do takeout tonight?” he asks, looking down at you. the two of you freshly showered and now on the couch. your head in his lap as you both wait for the new episode of your show to premiere.
“yeah, what’d you have in mind?” you ask. 20 minutes later the two of you are eating dinner, drinking a bottle of wine satoru picked up on his way back home.
it seems unreal to satoru. being home. no matter how many weekends he spends with you, they all seem to be like a dream. he doesn’t care much for the show on tv, but he still sits with you and watches it for the full hour, listening intently to anything you had to say.
its dark out, and to both you and satoru’s dismay sunday has come and gone all too quickly. you’re both back in bed, in each others warm embrace. conversation topics come and go quickly, the two of you laughing loudly at any little thing.
“oh my god it’s already two in the morning” you gasp, looking at your lover with a shocked expression, “how do we always manage to talk all night?” satoru laughs as you try to pull the blanket over yourself, as if that would instantly make you fall asleep.
“time flies when you’re with the love of your life” he sing songs, joining you under the blanket and looking at you with fond eyes.
“that’s not how that goes” you tease, watching as he rolled his eyes, muttering a ‘come here’ before getting you back in his arms, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle.
“toru you have to be up early!” you scold, the smile on your face is a juxtaposition to your words. and you can’t help but smack him softly when he points it out.
“alright, alright” he sighs, turning off the dim lights and leaving a mixture of moonlight and streetlights illuminating the room. “let’s go to sleep then.”
it doesn’t take long to get cozy, the weeks exhaustion still prominent as you two begin to doze off quickly. satoru tries to keep talking, but his words don’t make much sense as they’re muffled against the top of your head.
“g’night toru, i love you” you whisper, holding him a bit tighter as he replies, already half asleep.
“g’night sweetheart, i love you.”
sunday ends the same way it began. with satoru wrapped around you like a koala, his streaky breathing lulling you to sleep. his body radiating warmth that makes you feel more sleepy. you can hear his soft snores after a couple minutes, it makes you smile.
you don’t dwell on the fact that come tomorrow morning, his side of the bed will be cold and you’ll have to go back to your routine. instead you sigh happily, letting yourself enjoy your lovers company on your favorite day of the week.
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taglist (send an ask to be added): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke
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comfortless · 8 months ago
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would König ever agree to be a sugar baby? 🤔 most people write him as the rich one in the relationship so I'm curious if the dynamic can be reversed
you’re calling to my weakness of König being taken care of for once here…!! cue König being the absolute worst sugar baby that has ever existed (lovebombing!). implied age gap (König is maybe 24-26 here, reader is anything above), porn mention, masturbation, slightly suggestive but mostly fluff. minors do not interact.
Begrudgingly, a younger König probably would.
He isn’t sure how these relationships even work. There’s plenty of money in his bank accounts, he’s got a decent enough apartment, a car, (some) clothes that aren’t riddled with holes or tears... Hell, there isn’t even really anything that he wants. His curiosity only begins to spike the second his thumb stops its scrolling, lands on a picture of her, and his world comes to a grinding halt.
The woman in the photo is the most gorgeous, sweet creature he has ever lain eyes upon. Just the image of her smiling softly at the camera, her hands placed in her lap whilst she’s seated on a couch is enough to send his heart hammering. She doesn’t look the part of some vapid, cruel thing he had anticipated on a site like this. No, the woman only looks gentle, her eyes are even a little sad… She's all alone, her bed is cold, and König is already hard at the thought of how this could go if he had just a little luck in his corner.
He makes the decision to message her without thinking. It’s late, she probably wouldn’t even see it until morning, and he doubts a woman this cute would want to bother with him anyway.
A polite, articulate: hey do you wanna fuck
Followed by: you don’t even have to pay me XD
He settles for pulling up some porn video with the faces just out of frame, jacks off to the hypothetical of it being she and him one day and falls asleep with his phone on his chest and come stains in his boxers.
There’s nothing about him that’s deserving of this woman’s time nor her response, but he wakes to the chiming of his phone and a sweet message from her anyway. One in which she asks him if he would like to meet for drinks so that they can talk, she clarifies that she will pay, and even tells him that she thinks he’s handsome.
Handsome. Something only his oma had called him when she patted him on the cheek as a boy.
His response is insistent, demanding almost, when he suggests that she come to him, meet immediately that same day. Who cares if it’s only afternoon by the time she arrives, he could go for a beer and a sweet, tight pussy at any hour, doesn’t hold himself back from telling her this either while he grins at his phone like he’s possessed - all teeth and wild eyes.
There’s a part of him that believes this woman will be scared off, stand him up entirely and block his account, but to his surprise, she does actually show up. She’s there before even he arrives, seated in a booth at the back of the bar with his order and her own placed neatly on the table in front of her.
His chest feels too tight when he places himself across from her, all cockiness diminished in light of something he hasn’t felt since he was two feet shorter and more than a decade younger.
He’s fucking petrified.
His to-be-sugar-mommy eases him with her softspoken voice, going over the less than rigid terms of their agreement and praising his looks as well as his ability to handle his alcohol.
She isn’t asking for sex, just someone to care for. She tells him that he’s beautiful, while he feels like a smear on the pavement in comparison to her. And fuck. He isn’t handling his alcohol well at all, he’s just nervous and needs to keep his hands and his mouth busy, because all he wants to do is bend this adorable woman who compares his ugly face to that of an archangel’s over this table and fuck her like a stallion, spit such filth into her hair that no amount of repentance could ever make her feel clean again.
He can’t. He can’t when she suggests in that same cooing voice that she take him shopping for boots that are less scuffed, offers her hand to him as though it’s natural for a lady so ethereal to tether herself to a beast. Her hand is so dainty and cold, whereas he feels like a boiler on the cusp of bursting the second their fingers slot between one another.
His head is a mess of thoughts, memories of being dragged by the collar to attend services with his oma where he never prayed. Shit, maybe he should start, because surely he has someone or something to thank for this, for her.
Their first date becomes the strangest ordeal of his life as she seats him on a bench and helps him to try on boots as though he were only a boy who didn’t yet know how to tie his laces. She even kneels before him and ties them up herself before placing his foot back on the store’s floor; doesn’t even comment on the obvious hole in his sock or the awkward, longing way that he’s staring at her, only presses her chin to his knee and smiles up at him with so much affection he thinks he might actually pass out for a moment. She buys the ones he likes, three pairs of them, and doesn’t even bat an eye at the price.
That’s when he decides it’s all too much: he tells her that he can buy his own stuff, that he doesn’t need her to do it or tie his shoelaces or anything because he’s a man, after all. He should be showering her in flowers and soft dresses, paying for her nails and hair dye.
His lady only laughs and asks if he wants to come home with her, he doesn’t have to stay, just sit with her for a bit. So… he follows her home like a sulking shadow, hovering just behind her lost entirely in his head. He had barked at her like a rabid dog and she still brings him back to her place, strokes her thumb against the back of his hand, offers him little smiles of assurance when he goes completely silent.
He wants to hate it, wants to tell her something dirty and toss a stack of cash her way when she opens her door for him. Instead, he finds his head in her lap while she pets his face, running the tips of her fingers over every scar.
Her compliments are the most ridiculous, beautiful things that he’s ever heard, ranging from outright calling him her angel to telling him that he’s charming, that the scars are pretty… He loves every second spent with her like this, with each soft brush of her fingers as they pet the top of his head down to his neck, the way she hums some pleasing song to him when she massages at his shoulder.
He’s never been pampered or coddled like this before, and it feels good. The boner threatening to tear its way out of his pants isn’t something he’s proud of this time; he only wants this sweet little fairy to feel as comfortable as she’s making him.
Maybe he could do that if she let him pull up her skirt and make love to her: he could be gentle if he tried, play with her hair and her clit while he slowly spears her open until she’s pliant and panting, take it slow until she comes around his cock and her pussy calls him to utterly defile it as well as the rest of her. There wouldn’t be a part of her left untouched.
When she asks to be held instead, he swears he’s getting all of that and then some: she puts herself right in his lap, her chest to his and her legs parted just enough to straddle his hips. Her head tips forward against his shoulder as his fingers dance across her back, squeezing at her hips before smoothing back up her sides. She’s so soft… the most pleasing thing he’s ever touched, smoother than gunmetal and the flat of a blade. The way she smells is even sweeter, like spiced tea and blooming flowers.
She doesn’t even slap him when he bucks upward against her pussy, grinds the throbbing bulge in his pants against the place that she’s warmest. No, she only kisses his cheek and tells him what a wonderful day she’s having, what a gentleman he is even if he knows that part is certainly a lie.
Her breasts are soft in his hands when he finds the courage to squish them, against his cheek when she guides his head down to her. She pets his hair, tells him how she’s always wanted to hold a man like this… that she’s been waiting for someone exactly like him for longer than she even knows.
She even laughs when she asks, “You think that I’m pathetic, don’t you?”
All thoughts of just getting a good fuck out of this woman die someplace beneath his skull. Who would ever even think to call someone so lovely and kind pathetic? He couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine ever doing anything more than protecting her fragile little heart and letting her stroke at him like an overgrown kitten, not anymore.
“Nein… no…”
He swears he could almost see tears in her eyes when she shoots him a glance then. Appreciative, contented tears that he prays she won’t shed. He’s a man, he’s not going to cry, but… fuck, he might if she did right now. Everything feels so doughy and warm, cotton candy and summer rain when his grip around her tightens to pull her in even closer.
She wipes away those unshed tears as she nuzzles against his cheek, slowly rubs her nose there and leaves a trail of kisses up to his temple. His mind is devoid of anything but outright infatuation, some impromptu dedication. He would tell her right now he loved her and know wholeheartedly that he meant it, but love isn’t in the agreement.
His lady only just wants to give herself away for nothing in return, not for a dick to make her cry or his own money layering her pockets; she just wants to pretend he’s her own personal angel, bury him in all the love and gifts she’s never been able to give to anyone else.
He watches her when she falls asleep curled up in his arms, takes in the way she smiles even in dreaming when her soft breaths break up the quiet. He presses his mouth to hers until her eyelids flutter and her breath catches in her little throat. She wakes to the kiss and only reciprocates it with the same softness she’s displayed with every prior action.
Her lips part to take him in, and she doesn’t even moan when he laps into her mouth with a grunt. There’s no lust in this for her: only the most senseless adoration, all love and tenderness, the things he’s yet to properly learn.
She tastes like vanilla and honey, her tongue yields beneath his own… and finally he pulls himself away, staring into her eyes like he might find a treasure there, as if he wasn’t already convinced that every part of her wasn’t something divine and holy.
“Do you have any others?,” he asks, devoid of any trepidation.
There’s not a care in the world of how she might view him. He’s convinced, certain that whatever he’s feeling has to be mutual. There are butterflies fluttering like the gentlest tornado in the pits of his stomach, and just by the wounded look she gives him then he just knows she must feel them too.
“Only you.”
“Gut… gut.”
There’s another kiss, one that is initiated by the both of them and steals all breath from his lungs. It’s not her harboring tears this time, but him who feels the dull sting, separates from her and turns his head away to rub at his face. He knows that he’s the pathetic one now, burdened down with the thought that he’s head over heels for a woman for just treating him as if he deserves anything at all.
Damn her for the way she readily reaches for him to pull him back in, to kiss at the outer corner of his eye and tell him in such a quiet way that she knows… In just a day she’s noticed him more than anyone, given more than anyone.
When he guides her back towards his mouth with a firm hand at the nape of her neck, could he really be faulted for whispering a confession? “Ich bin in dich verliebt,” spoken nearly inaudibly before he shuts her up with his lips over hers.
There’s no need for an answer, he knows the agreement had nothing to do with love. She wouldn’t accept his money in turn, but maybe a heart would suffice. He promises he’ll send her letters each time he’s deployed between mashing his mouth against her own, swears he will come running back to her when those greedy kisses slip down to her jaw. This sweet dove only laughs and squirms in his lap, tells him she would love to see him any time before he shushes her again.
Shouldn’t sweet things like this know not to feed a stray?
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 year ago
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i don’t know if I’m allowed to ask right now and feel to ignore this but I just really like your shit so here I am :D
anyway
I love the thought of Fanny being the ghost king and the crown not fitting on his head so it falls to his neck line where it hangs off his neck and is either the spikes(idk what the call the pointed bits-) are short enough to see his face or they are thin enough to see though and then when he’s in his human from the crown turns into a black neck tattoo that’s really pretty and stuff!! So imagine this, Danny in Gotham and he’s a singer for Penguin and some rouges or something and he’s irritated so instead of running he continued to sing and it actually sways the course of the fight in favor of his allies while the enemies ears or like bleeding or something as his hair turns white and his eyes go green as the crown shins around his neck and let’s say that his outfit is quite androgynous and nice looking but he’s really pissed because it was a gift and it got damaged or bled on and this starts a rumor that Danny is a meta so the bats and birds go to investigate
Hope you like it and do a little Drabble :)
They hear about the Siren for the first time after a bit of trouble happens to go down in Old Man Rob's. At first, they were a little shocked that anyone would dare give Rob any sort of trouble, seeing as it was a general unwritten role to leave the old man who made clothes for the working girls/boys and for the Gotham Rouges well enough alone.
His work was so well appreciated that the Rouges would even send their minions to outfit them with the standard hire goon outfit. Joker swears by his purple cloth that only Rob could make his men look good.
Old Man Rob made the clothes right out of his home, so anyone who went to him would have a hot cup of tea and soft music from Rob's home country playing in the background. Everyone agreed that Old Man Rob's was welcoming and neutral grounds.
So imagine the uproar when some stupid out-of-city punks attempted to follow some working girls into the house and trash the place. The girls had taken refuge with Old Man Rob after realizing the punks were much more dangerous than they first thought.
When Rob tried to defuse the situation, things turned ugly as one of the men punched the old man to the ground- injuring his back. They had then attempted to take the screaming girls, gone about the house for anything valuable, and smashed everything that wasn't with a bat.
That's when Siren walked in. The androgynous being looked around before throwing themselves onto the men like the snaring mystical creature they earned their name from.
Siren had taken care of the men and had even had them hand-delivered to Penjuin when the supervillain caught wind that the fools were responsible for Rob not being able to complete his latest suit due to his back injury.
One of the working girls had texted her boyfriend, who was employed with Penguin, and that meant the Rouge, with a group of men, had rushed over to help not even ten minutes later.
Once everything was settled, Rob had enough time, as he was being transported to the hospital, to give Siren their outfit as a gift, and Penguin overheard the old man wishing Siren luck on his audition.
After a bit of question, Penguin gave Siren his card and told them to swing by the Iceberg Lounge for an audition if the one they were going to didn't work out.
That was all the Bats were able to gather from the last working girl, who is Jason's informate. Since Siren had no other known sighting, the Bats let them fade into obscurity until rumors of a hot new singer began to feature at the Iceberg Lounge.
Their voice left hundreds of clubgoers memorized, even those who didn't often prefer slow seduction songs when going to the club. The Iceberg does have a more classy feel about it but Siren could make anyone stop for their voice.
Bruce thought it was wise to investigate the meta after rumors that Siren would often help security when someone got too rowdy by singing a tone that could make human ears bleed. So far, there wasn't much information past rumors, and Penguin hadn't made the singer a member of his crime yet, but it was only a matter of time.
No one that powerful could remain neutral with the company they kept.
That's why Dick, Cas, and Jason all dressed to the nines and visited Iceberg Lounge with Brucie Wayne's unlimited credit card. They are treated VIPs- as the Lounge is a legitimate business despite everyone knowing the owner is Penguin- and are seated right before Siren's stage.
The lights drop, and the music tickles to a stop so the live band can get into place. Dick adjusts his cuffs, presses the record button on the hidden video camera on the metal, and leans on his hands to point it to the stage.
They are all wearing earplugs, hoping to stop Siren's powers, but it's better to have someone far away who won't be effect by the sound watching just in case the three get mind-controlled.
The singer who takes the stage is beautiful androgynous in everything from their outfit to their features, but none can deny their beauty of them. They stand in a shimmering black suit resembling a modern king attire, with a half veil dripping from their shoulders. A particular ice crystal snowflake design tattoo circles their neck in a breath-catching upturn of their head.
Once Sirens opens their mouth in the first verse, Cass can understand why the mythical creatures could lure sailors to their water deaths. The voice is as beautiful as the singer, and she can't look away.
She rises with the tempo, falls with the beat, and flouts into the rhythm of Siren's voice. It's not until the singer descends the stage to sing to the lucky few upfront does she realizes she has forgotten why she came here tonight.
Jason carefully presses his foot against her, and she struggles to take her eyes off Siren to look at her bother. His face is relaxed and cocky, like the wealthiest man son can be, but his body language screams worry.
Worry for her.
Shoot, had she allowed herself to fall under Siren's spell?
The singer struts back to the stage, arms raised before slowly lowering on the last long memorizing note, and the lights drop. She clasps politely along with the rest, her heart fluttering.
"That was amazing!" Dick cheers, whistling like a loon. His civilian persona does resemble Brucie the most. "Encore! Encore!"
Siren looks at their table with a bashful smile, and Cass's heart falls. Before she can do anything knowing what that means, the doors to the lounge get blown right off the hinges, and screams erupt through the room.
A rival gang is tearing through the room. Cass hits the ground with her brothers, mentally cursing they can't blow their cover as the thugs quickly round up hostages. One grabs Siren's veil, ripping it right off as the singer tries to run. The action causes them to trip over the stage's long walkway before falling into a table stacked with wine glasses.
She fights to urge to scream when Siren falls. Cass needs to focus on finding a place to change and get control of the situation. Siren could be hurt, they could be-
"You asshole!" The siren screams, standing up and neck tattoo flaring a bright blue. "You ruined my suit!"
The man scoffs, pointing a gun at their head "So what? It couldn't be that expensive for Penguin's little plaything to offered."
"It was a gift!" The siren screams in a sound voice as cold as ice and as unforgiving as death. Cass feels the air freeze over, and suddenly, Siren is signing. But it's not the sweet song from before; now, it's a dead melody that promises death.
She presses herself against the floor more, trying to escape the sound. Her heart is beating so fast that she wonders if she is dosed with Fear Toxin. Cass doubts the others are fairing better as sobs break through the room.
The man holding the gun drops to his knees, screaming and clutching his ears.
Siren remains standing, hair bleeding into white, eyes a blazing green, and his neck tattoo expanding into a crown that seems to cover the lower half of their face. It's a beautiful sight as much as it is terrifying.
Cass can't look away.
Just as quickly as it started, the signing ends when the man falls unconscious and Siren looks human again. They fret over their suit uncaring of the stares from the rest of the club, and make their way to the changing room without a by-your-leave.
Cass is in love.
"We have to report this to B," Jason hisses. "That was Lazaurs Wails."
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themultifanshipper · 3 months ago
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hear me out race engineer reader x George? like George gets distracted by reader's voice during FP which reminds him of last night 👀 I think you know where I'm going with this lol
George was going crazy.
The sound of your unintentional dirty talk over the radio was keeping him from concentrating on his session as his focus wavered around each turn of the circuit.
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Terrible edited pics courtesy of yours truly
I was gonna use pictures of lando shirtless with a helmet, then I thought to myself "why not put my nonexistant photoshop talents to good use"
Warnings: Race engineer!reader, smut, mention of phone sex, tension, dirty talk, George being frustrated and horny, Cum, lots of cum, complete opposite of a professional workplace environment, and when you thought it couldn't get any worse... helmet kink
“You need to get on top, George”
He swore silently as he almost missed the turn for the fifth time that session. It was only practice but he would rather not crash his car before the first race of the season. But you weren't making it easy for him.
“Fuck, you're getting close”
Yes he was losing time to Lewis, which drove him mad at the best of times. But right now he had other things to worry about, like the fact that you were seemingly unaware that you were basically dirty talking him through a lap.
“It's getting wetter”
'Yeah, the weather' his brain unhelpfully supplied. He was only half way through the last lap but he was slowly feeling like he was loosing his grip on reality. You had to be doing this on purpose. There was no way you couldn’t hear the double-entendres you'd been saying for the past 45 minutes. And yet…
“Your vitals are spiking, you alright?”
‘Yeah no shit’ George thought. He was half hard in his suit at the moment, and with your innocently uttered filthy words it was only getting worse.
He knew it was a bad idea getting involved with his race engineer, but it was too late now.
George was initially nervous when they told him he was getting a new engineer this year,  but when he found out it was you he relaxed somewhat.
The two of you had always gotten along very well, ever since you'd joined his side of the garage in the engineering department. So well in fact, that there had been a couple of drunk incidents last year involving alcohol, dark club corners, and wandering hands.
Nothing more than some heavy petting, but still, the attraction was there and you had mutually agreed that you should stay away from each other physically if you were going to keep a working relationship and avoid drama.
But when they offered you the new position, you could hardly refuse. And you hadn't seen each other since the end of last season so any lingering tension was sure to have dissipated, right?
Wrong.
The night before testing began, you sent him a text to wish him luck. Which turned into a conversation. Which turned into a 2 hour-long phone call that ended with an orgasm each and a couple of commemorative photos.
The picture of your bed soaked in your juices, your thighs on display was burned into his brain forever.
And right now he was fucking thinking about it while driving at 300 kilometers per hour.
Not a great mix.
He got p12. Fucking shameful.
Needless to say when he got out of the car he made a beeline for you and dragged you into his driver's room, ignoring your questions about where he was taking you.
He slammed the door behind him and threw his helmet on the massage table.
“Do you have any idea what you were doing to me out there?” he growled as he started unzipping his race suit.
You frowned at him innocently (even though you knew exactly what you were doing) “I don't know what you're talking about, George”
He stalked towards you and trapped you between him and the table, pinning you with his hips, and you could feel through his fireproofs how much you'd affected him.
“Don't give me that bullshit. ‘Does it feel good, George?’ ” he hissed “anyone with half a brain listening in would know you weren't talking about the fucking car”.
You could barely contain the smirk that threatened to show on your face and you eyes twinkled with laughter.
“And what are you going to do about it?” You crossed your arms and stood up straighter, standing your ground against his impressive figure.
He narrowed his eyes and looked you up and down. “I'm going to do exactly what I've wanted to do to you since last year, and when I'm done you're not going to be able to walk out of here without help…”
You shivered and he picked you up swiflty to sit you on the table before crashing his lips to yours, hands going to your arse as he grinded his hips into yours.
This was familiar territory, kissing him was just like you remembered, frantic and desperate as his hands wandered across your body.
You quickly got to work undressing each other and it took less than 20 seconds to get you naked, and you were everything he'd dreamed of.
You panted into his mouth as the cold air made you shiver. His hand knocked against something, and when he looked, it was his helmet that was still perched on the end of the massage table.
He stared at it for a second before fixing his heated gaze on you.
If you went back in time and told yourself that you would be wearing George's race helmet as he ate you out like a man starved, making you shake and writhe on his driver's room massage table, you wouldn't have believed it.
George was relentless, alternating between broad licks and drawing precise patterns on your clit with his tongue, and he brought you to the edge faster than his lap time from earlier.
As soon as he slid a finger into your weeping cunt you were a goner. You came, clamping down on his finger as your hands all but yanked his hair straight off his talented head.
The visor of his helmet had steamed up a bit so you put it up to see George licking his fingers clean.
When your eyes met he choked on his spit. “Fuck, darlin’ you look hot with my helmet on. Maybe I should get you one to keep for… special occasions.” He licked his lips and rose to his feet to take it off you.
He kissed you again and before he could put the helmet down, you grabbed his arm and whined.
“George, put it on… please?” You blushed.
He just raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Does the idea of me fucking you with my helmet on turn you on too?”
You nodded shyly and lay down on the table, wrapping your legs around him, making his cock nudge against you and he hissed.
“What a pair we make” he chuckled and put the helmet on “maybe I should get custom matching ones made then”
The thought made your heart flutter. The idea was so… couple-y.  You weren't sure you were ready for that but the thought was quickly replaced as he slid his cock up and down your folds to get it nice and wet.
It was big, bigger than any of your exes, and perfectly curved upwards.
You started thinking maybe you were going to need help walking out of here.
He fucked you hard and deep. Expert strokes pulling you to the edge as his cock brushed perfectly against all the best spots. Not to mention the sight of his naked body looming over you with that helmet on…
You didn't last long, and you pulled him over the edge with you as you came with a shout, thighs trying to close around George's waist at the slight overstimulation.
But George was stronger, he managed to pull out and streaks of cum landed all over your stomach and puffy lips as he growled out "all fucking mine"
His fingers came and collected some of it, rubbing it along your folds before plunging them inside the wet heat. You gasped and and writhed, his long fingers immediately going for your g-spot.
He pulled out his fingers and collected some more of his cum, whike his other hand went to grab your jaw.
"Want a taste? Open up, sweetheart"
He didn't even finish his sentence before your mouth was open and your tongue was out.
The mix of your taste and his combined made your eyes roll back and you moaned around his fingers. You were out of it.
You were wrecking him.
He pulled the helmet off and you moaned at the sight of him. His hair was soaked and plastered to his forehead, pupils wide, and his lips were raw like he'd been biting at them.
What a fucking sight. And you weren't much better off.
As you stared at each other like that, something between you changed.
You realised that day, George Russell was fucking gone for you. And you matched his freak perfectly.
 
He got a fine for being late to his post practise duties, but who cared about a fine? He was going to be spending much, much more on the kinky matching helmets.
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cottonlemonade · 1 month ago
Text
His Favorite Customer
word count: 1276 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.
pairing: post-time skip!Osamu x chubby!Reader
genre: angst ending in fluff
warnings: catcalling, spoilers
request: watching Goosebumps with some sweet’n’salty popcorn dressed as a traffic cone with Osamu || fluffy-angsty, Halloween Party with crush Osamu
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Up until a few minutes ago you thought, the worst day of your life was when your now ex-boyfriend broke up with you in the middle of a supermarket. You still couldn‘t look at a can of peas without getting flashbacks. But when a car drove past you and splashed your costume which was already unfit for the cold to begin with, you were certain it couldn‘t get any worse than this. The friend who had invited you to the Halloween party left around the time you lost your last bit of sanity with some Dracula she just met, taking her car and thus your ride with her. When she called to apologize for leaving you behind, it was clear that you had become nothing but an afterthought, and even the promise of a free lunch the next day did nothing to lighten your mood or lessen the simmering feeling of abandonment. You shuddered in a cold breeze, goosebumps forming on your arms and legs. No taxi in sight and the street was filled with drunk partygoers howling and screaming - you just wanted to be home and wash this stupid night off you with the longest hottest shower known to man.
You ignored the notification about your dying battery and tapped around for the number of a taxi service or an Uber. But of course, just your luck, everyone you called was busy. If it wasn‘t so late and dark and cold and wet you might have considered walking. It wasn‘t too far away in the grand scheme of things - at least compared to other places like, say, China. But you stopped after only a couple of homeward steps. Being ever so helpful, your mom had recently sent you link after link to articles from various newspapers all warning people to not walk the streets alone after dark for a spike of crime during the costume season, finishing off the sinister spam with an obligatory kiss emoji. As you (very bravely) held back tears you scrolled through your contacts, trying to figure out which of them you wouldn‘t mind losing if you woke them up at 1 a.m. to pick you up from a random Halloween party somewhere in the outskirts of Kobe.
Halfway through the E‘s your phone finally shut down. Great.
You sniffled, slung your arms closer to your body for a bit of warmth, and started walking. Some convenience store might sell a charger or have a payphone at least, you told yourself.
Cars whooshed past, groups of friends staggered dangerously close to the road and the wetness from the earlier drive-by splash slowly seeped through the last layer of fabric. It truly couldn‘t get any worse. That was until a few minutes later when a handful of guys stumbled out of a bar in front of you, clearly very drunk. You braced yourself, holding tightly to the small purse you carried, and looked at the ground as you walked by them. Unfortunately, you weren‘t quite as invisible as you would have liked. You heard many sets of steps fall in behind you. Not wanting them to think you just assumed they meant any harm, you tried to steady your breathing but ever so slightly increased your pace. So did the steps behind you. You lengthened your stride again, making the men behind you laugh and call out, “What are you running from, little butterball?! There should be enough for all of us!“
Throwing caution to the wind you began to run, your eyes spotting the telltale sign of a convenience store like a shining beacon just up ahead. More laughter, wolf whistling, and something that sounded very much like someone running after you. Your heart pumped with adrenaline, your lungs were burning - when was the last time you ran anywhere but a short sprint to the bus? You couldn‘t keep this up for long, surely he would catch up with you any moment. You dared to look behind you but in your hurry couldn‘t spot the person following. Taking a deep breath you were ready to let out a scream when you bumped into something very solid.
Two strong hands steadied you by your shoulders and a familiar voice said, “Oh, sorry. - Hey, ya okay?“
You didn‘t care anymore and just held onto their puffy jacket, squeezing your eyes shut.
Whoever it was, put an arm around your shoulder and you heard him bark, “Keep walkin‘.“,
Ignoring the inappropriate comments that followed, you began to cry and a second arm came up to wrap around you.
“It‘s alright.“, he said calmly, “They‘re gone. Yer good.“
You sniffled again and looked up.
“O-samu?”, you hiccuped in between the syllables.
He looked around, then noticed your wet costume and pulled you into the warmth of the convenience store.
Once he ushered you to the seating area facing the shop window he shrugged off his jacket to put it around your shoulders. Then he excused himself for a moment and went to collect just about every hot food item the store had to offer from deliciously steaming ramen and sticky skewers to Chinese buns with different fillings, one savory, one sweet. His short absence allowed you to take deep breaths of his jacket collar. That warm, woody scent that had driven you crazy for months was just what you needed to calm down. The last couple of minutes already felt like they happened hours ago and you shuddered to think what would have happened if he hadn’t been there. You turned around in your chair and watched him consider the beverage shelf by the door, until he eventually shrugged and grabbed an armful of various flavors. Seeing him balance everything to the cash register and dumping it on the already teetering mountain of food made you smile, then chuckle which helped release some of the nervous energy still pent up in your body. You pulled the puffy parka closer to you, thinking about the many many times you had hoped the handsome store owner would ask you out. Often enough he had reciprocated a flirty comment that slipped out from you, making you question whether he meant it or if he just considered that good service. You surely would have enough opportunity to overthink later but right now you were just so very glad someone you knew was there to help. As you ate, you explained the situation between fewer and fewer sobs.
“No problem.”, he said, pinching off a piece from the steamed red bean bun, “I’ll take ya home.”
“Thank you so so much. I owe you.”
“Don’t even think about it. Least I can do for my favorite customer.”, he grinned and took another piece of bun.
“Bet you say that to everyone.”, you mumbled, then quickly blew on the noodles to cover the comment.
“Can’t believe ya think that low of me.”, he joked and shook his head in pretend sadness.
You pushed the half eaten bun over to him, “Peace offering?”
“Well, if ya insist.” He happily took a large bite and you laughed.
The car ride to your place was pleasantly quiet. You took the opportunity to take a couple more inconspicuous whiffs of his jacket before finally handing it back to him when you got out.
“Thank you again so so much. You’re a lifesaver.”
“No worries.”, Osamu hesitated for a moment, then added, “I meant it, ya know. Yer my favorite. I hope yer coming by tomorrow so I can make ya forget those jerks. Food’s on the house, of course.”
Your cheeks began to hurt from so much smiling.
“I’d love that. See you tomorrow.”
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art: @Zing14268125 on Twitter
a/n: a request for @pinkmildliner
Thank you so much for the congratulations and the request! I hope you enjoyed it!
for requests see here
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a-ikuoliver · 1 year ago
Text
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞?
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what's your favourite scary movie? | k. bakugou— k-atsukibakugou
finally convincing one of your best friends to come to the 30th anniversary re-release of scream, he figures out one of your best-kept secrets
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader w/c: 4.9k warnings: femme reader (called girl, has a pussy, wears makeup n a skirt), death threat kinda lmao, public & unprotected sex, blood mention, knife mention, reader implied to be recon/stealth hero, not beta’d bc i got nervous and we die like men, this is like all lead up my b notes: HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEEEEEN this is sorta inspired by @katsukikitten's post and um i have no explanation for this i was possessed by that post n my fat crush on katsuki and I KNOW scream came out in 1996 imagine the timelines line up lmao crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • recent wips & updates • kofi • askbox
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“pleaaaase?” you’re too aware you’re whining, your bottom lip stuck out in a pout, probably only one more emotionless denial away from getting on your hands and knees and begging the stoic hero, “i’ll owe you? i'll do anything you want!”
you caught the mischievous sparkle in his eye at your promise, dropping your head in desperation to your hands still clamped together like you were praying, one final time, you pleaded, “please? it’s the thirty-year-anniversary re-release! i can't miss it!”
bakugou made a sound like he was thinking over your request, eyes glancing between the two tickets in your hand, the blood red title printed at the top calling his name, and your pleading eyes, a gravelly hum low in his throat. his mind had been made up since you asked, already planning on watching the theatrical re-release, it was just his luck your favourite horror movie was his, too. but he didn’t plan on telling you that quite yet, revelling in your desperation after a third rejection; eijirou too scared of a slasher, denki already having plans for a different night, and sero scheduled to patrol.
“you’ll do anything i want just for a movie?” his voice was mildly condescending, but the twitch in his lips had you rolling your eyes and crossing your arms like a grumpy child bargaining with a guardian, “if that’s what it takes!”
exasperated, you throw your head back with a groan, about to turn to him and announce your forfeit when he beats you to it, pinching the extra ticket from your hand, a satisfied smirk painted on his lips, “i’ll pick you up friday night, ya owe me one.”
katsuki walked away without even waiting for your response, leaving you simultaneously frustrated at your friends toying with you, and cheering at finally having found someone to join you.
punctual as always in his adult years, katsuki was outside your door friday night half an hour earlier than when you told him to drop by and get you, fists banging on your door while you were still tugging your skirt over your hips, just getting the zipper up when you swung the door open, already growling at your friend standing in the doorway in front of you, “i heard the first thirteen times you knocked.”
you toyed with the hem of your shirt, stepping aside to let him inside, promptly looking him up and down to admire the casual outfit he wore, far different from the hero costume you were used to seeing on him, the simple black cotton stretching over his broad chest somehow emphasising the muscles there more than the tight costume. there was a hint of a necklace underneath the collar of the shirt, the thin line of silver glinting under the lowlights of your hallway, similar jewellery on three of his fingers, and his blond locks sitting normally, spiked up around his head, his undercut leaving his ears free to show off the handful of piercings there. glancing back up, your eyes locked on his glinting ruby eyes, already watching you drink him in, the eye contact only breaking when he tapped his heavy boots on the floor just inside your door, “quit whining, how long are ya gonna be?”
you rolled your eyes at his impatience, waving him off while fixing your hair in your reflection in the glass beside the door, “give me two minutes.”
you flitted back up the hallway, swift and silent as he was used to seeing you be, leaving him beside the door to take a glimpse around your living room, taking in the little plush ghostface sat front and centre on your couch, blood red felt stitched over its soft knife, a stack of novels beside the couch, a few titles he recognised as classics, and more horror novels he knew nestled between scattered romance titles. he heard a few more heavy bumps from your bedroom, just out of his view before you emerged once more, in a tight shirt, gorey graphic printed in the middle, a sweater thrown over your arm and boots looped in your fingers, a cute garnet charm dangling off the back of each loop of fabric, “you want me to fill up your car?”
your question had his eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “the fuck are you on about?”
“to repay you?” you asked dumbly, stepping closer to place your key in the lock, clicking it locked once your tall friend ducked under it and stepped outside onto the driveway. he sucked his teeth disapprovingly, unlocking his car with you bounding over to the passenger side, jumping into the seat to wiggle your boots onto your feet, he only dignified you with a response once he was seated on the dark leather, huffing out a grumpy, but demanding, “you’re not payin’,”
reversing from your driveway, he interrupted when you opened your mouth to argue back, “besides, i haven’t decided what i want from ya yet,” katsuki smirked at you, vermillion eyes darting from his rear view mirror to you when he propped his arm behind your headrest to make sure the road was clear, speaking again with all your focus studying the way his lips moved with every low syllable, “it’s more fun keepin’ you in suspense.”
head dropping from the clouds, you glared at him, unsure if you were more annoyed at his self assured grin or yourself for throbbing from it, leaning down to tie the lace of your boots, “fine, last time i'm offering though.”
katsuki shook his head, exiting onto the road towards the cinema, ending the conversation there, and leaving you both to settle into a comfortable air, sometimes dropping into silence, sometimes a casual conversation about your hero work until you reached the quiet theatre, arriving with plenty of time to spare before your screening. the lot was dead, nowhere near as busy as you expected it to be, katsuki parking with no one else beside him for at least twenty feet in each direction.
locking his car, you both made your way inside, side by side through the glass doors of the cinema, decorated for today with original posters, thin black fabric on the walls, the doors spattered with dark red fake blood, even the employee checking tickets adorning a flimsy ghostface mask. you were practically buzzing with excitement, squeezing his forearm when you saw the guy ahead, handing your ticket over for him to scan. the corner of his lip twitched in a grin, never seeing you geek out quite so much like you were right now, your eyes shining with excitement right up until he turned to face the fabric screen playing static.
the static soon faded into the production logos, and finally, the title screen; scream. you were vibrating in your seat, eyes glued to the screen so much you hardly had any of the popcorn he’d got for you both to share, only occasionally did you reach for the cup to take large sips, all without tearing your eyes from the screen. katsuki was even beginning to question the last time you blinked.
gradually, as the movie went on, he noticed your minute squirming more and more, first dismissing it as discomfort from sitting in the one spot too long, but the longer he fixated on you, the more he noticed your inability to remain still, your legs crossing and uncrossing every five minutes. your clothes rubbed against the fabric of the chair with every wriggle, the rustling having him observe you from the corner of his eye more than he watched the final act, deep red irises catching you swipe your tongue across your lips, your sparkling eyes darting around the screen, your black skirt doing nothing to hide the way your thighs were pressed tightly together.
your wide pupils reflected the carmine on the screen, heart eyes locked on the blood spattered slashers on the screen, your ears blocking out the monologue to focus entirely on the villain’s bloody face, lips just parting to release a short puff of breath you didn’t know you were holding in your heaving chest.
realising he was staring, katsuki clenched his sharp jaw and focused back on the crescendo of the third act, trying to ignore the way you kept writhing right up until the credits were rolling. you stayed fixated, entranced, for a minute longer, unable to hide your smile when the lights slowly turned back up, illuminating your shiny, plump lips and your hungry eyes. without wasting another second you started gushing over the movie without looking at katsuki, half of your words running into the next without so much as a breath between them, sounding more like the obsessive deku the longer you prattled on about the characters and theories.
you were still chatting his ear off when you both made your way down the carpeted stairs towards the exit, past the decorations and blood splatter once more, out of the dead theatre, spotting only one or two employees left cleaning counters and floor as you left, their costume discarded on the counter as they swept.
exiting into the night, a gentle icy wind blew through your body, making a shiver wrack your body. you gripped katsuki's wrist to drag him faster to his car, desperate to retrieve your forgotten sweater from underneath the passenger seat before your lips turned blue. your tugging did little to change his pace, his heavy boots stomping along the paved car park, illuminated only by the moon and a singular lit lamppost just outside the cinemas doors, his car shrouded in the darkness of the night, alone in the lot.
chirping as it unlocked, you swung the door open immediately, digging around under the passenger seat where you knew you’d dropped the sweater, not paying attention to your friend climbing into the driver's seat beside you, still rummaging around under the seat when he made a disapproving sound. finally getting hold of the soft fabric of the sweater, you pulled it from under the seat, and into your lap to untangle the sleeves of it while eyeing katsuki, catching the signature scowl gracing his lips, although this one seemed tinged with confusion, tongue clicking against his teeth as the dashboard made a beeping sound once more before it turned dark. you watched him try it once more with a frustrated curse, “useless fucking thing.”
you pulled the sweater over your head, confusion painted on your face now, too, as you watched him reach under the steering wheel to click the lock for the metal bonnet.
“what’s going on?” curiously, you leaned over to peer at the dashboard with him, watching his nimble fingers unbuckle his seatbelt and climb from the car.
“‘m not sure yet, battery might be dead.” he grunted, closing the driver's door to go around the front of the car. you watched him through the pristine windshield until he was blocked by the bonnet being lifted and locked up into place. you followed suit, meeting him around the front, scarlet eyes darted around the metal and tubes and batteries, a muscular arm flexing when he squeezed the metal in frustration, swearing once more.
“shit, i’ll need to call for a jump.” you watched him think, sadly studying the battery that was ruining your plans with your bottom bedside drawer. “oh.”
“wait in the car, i’ll call ei to come help us.'' without question, you nod, studying the way he leaned back on the car, pulling up the number pad, rapidly typing in both of your closest friends' number. sparing one last glance up at him, you caught the unreadable look on katsuki’s face, an expression of his you’d never seen before, crimson eyes glaring down at the technology in front of him.
climbing once more into the car, you relaxed as much as you could into the seat, slipping your heavy boots off your feet with your body thrumming, no way to sit comfortably with the way your pussy throbbed against the seam of your panties, your hips jolting forward whenever you sat a certain way, the slashers bloody ghost mask imprinted behind your eyelids each time you blinked. your cheeks were hot, embarrassed to be so desperate from a movie, but still praying eijirou would rush to save you both to solve katsuki’s problem and let you get home to fix yours.
you squirmed in the seat, your skin hot on the leather while you eyed the dark streets, hope growing in you with every car that drove down the street, only to be crushed when they continued past the cinema. waiting for a moment longer with quivering thighs squeezed together, you finally huffed and opened the passenger door, “katsuki? did he answer?”
a beat went by, nothing responded to you except the soft chirp of crickets nestled in the dark of the greenery sprinkled around.
“katsuki?” you repeated, your voice a bit louder, and still you heard nothing back, the silence interrupted by the vibrating of your phone.
left all alone, sweetheart? 12:41am
you reread the text from the unknown number with your heart in your throat, nervously watching a typing bubble pop up beneath it.
you climbed off the seat warmed by your body to take on the cool night in search for your silent friend, the skin of your thighs erupting in goosebumps the moment your light feet landed on the ground, wrapping tingling arms around your torso, you attempted to rationalise while you watched the bubble disappear. rounding the front of the car, you scanned the space in front of the car, expecting to see the hulking blond standing there, ready to jump out and scare you, instead, the spot was empty, not a trace he’d even been there to begin with.
brave little hero. you’re not the type to run headfirst into danger.12:42am
let’s play a game, see if you can win him back, sweetheart. 12:42am
your breath was knocked from your chest reading the text, your heartbeat deafening when you choked out his name once more, your tone painted with worry.
“i swear to god, if this is a joke i'll make sure no one hears from you ever again.” shivering, and not from the cold, your voice shook, wide eyes not conveying the threatening aura you were trying to achieve, nor your entire trust in this only being a joke.
and if you get an answer wrong i’ll make sure no one finds you. 12:42am
your blood ran cold feeling the phone buzz again, your face still shamefully warm when your cunt throbbed at the threat, fear and need settling in the pit of your stomach. sucking in a breath, you shouted at nothing, “fine!”
you’ll be a good final girl. 12:43am
if you’re smart about it. 12:43am
you crept around the car silently, sticking close by the lifted hood to scan the darkness around you, sneaking around the side to get back inside the car, desperate to get back to safety, wanting to think this through, to be smart about getting katsuki back by your side. seeing no one, you darted for the driver’s side door, tugging on the smooth handle with trembling hands, the lock unlatching only for a moment before being shoved shut once more with a strong, scarred hand planted on the window, causing you to squeal in surprise when the door slammed with a thud.
“wrong move, final girl,” his deep voice whispered in your ear, feeling like it was echoing all around you, his free hand clamping around your hip to keep your weak legs upright. your stalker smiled into your hair, ego swelling at how easily he had you worked up from a few threatening texts, “how wet are you right now?”
katsuki rasped, voice impossibly deeper, his nose bumping your temple when he spoke. heat flushed through your body, embarrassment pooling in your stomach, only adding to the drippiness of your needy pussy.
“what?”
“what?” he mocked, “you think i wouldn’t notice you humpin the fuckin air in there? what was it, sweetheart? the blood, or the fear?”
sharp teeth emphasised his final question, canines catching on your sensitive lobe, his hand tightening around your hip, pinning you hard between his thick chest and tumid car.
“i don't have any idea what youre talking about.” your voice was an uneven, unconvincing murmur, your breath fogging on the window in front of your face, blurring your view of him, bar a sliver of the cherry-red of his irises reflecting back at you. you felt the fervid heat of his eyes on yours as if there wasn’t a single obstacle between you and him, the burn of his gaze dropping down to your lips when you surrendered a shuddering breath.
“you don’t?” you shook your head, barely disturbing the air around you, more shy than you ever had been since knowing him, “that didn’t turn you on at all?”
you shook your head once more, your gaze averting to the ground beneath your feet, suddenly interested in the shine of the lamplight on his boots instead of his interrogating, knowing he already knew the answers to every question he asked you.
his calloused fingertips ran up your plush, pillowy thighs, blunt fingernails digging in at the peak, a mere inch away from your dripping core, “c’mon, final girl, tell the truth, and i’ll stop.”
he got impossibly closer, crowding over you with a thick forearm sliding around your waist, settling in where he remained still, the hairs on the back of your neck standing when you felt his gentle breath there. your hips jerked forward into his biting nails, surely leaving half-moon indent in the soft skin underneath them. you felt his cocky smile in your hair when a low mewl reverberated in your throat, your bitten lips smothering the sound almost imperceptibly, “please, don’t stop.”
katsuki heard you, his ears so attuned to your voice, he’d hear you in a sea of half a million people, loud and clear. still, he let his fingers drop further away from where you needed him, incessant in his teasing, “what was that? “please stop”?”
his hold around you loosened, his boot disappearing from your view when he took a step back, this time it was your fingers digging into the skin of his forearm, pulling him close to you, “no, katsuki, please don’t stop.”
he didn’t need to hear a single word more from you, his cock already straining against his pants hearing your shaky voice beg only twice for him. he cursed again, his fingers gliding over your skin, not going to deny you, or himself, the pleasure of dipping his fingers into your sopping cunt.
a high pitched mewl escaped you when he swiped his thumb over your slit, the soaking fabric still separating you two doing nothing to weaken the pleasure his skilled fingers brought you, enough to have your hips bucking into his hold again. katsuki’s devilish laugh tickles the back of your neck, your eyelids becoming heavy with need filling your veins, adrenaline keeping your heart beating loudly in your ears, and lightning through your body when he finally slips his fingers under the waistband of your panties, hardened fingertips free to touch your core any way he desired. snaking his free hand up your body, katsuki brushed the hair from your neck, letting his hand rest slackly at the base of your throat, leaving the junction where your shoulder met your neck free for him to plant his lips there, sucking your skin into his mouth, bringing your blood as close to the surface of your skin as he could without a buck knife of his own. you crooned, warm body melting into the blond’s touch, stumbling back over your own feet when he slid his hand under your skirt to pull you back a foot by your hip, holding you hard to his chest, a thick, powerful arm holding you upright. your lustful eyes were trained on his hand when it abandoned its hold on your throat, committing every flaw, divot, vein and scar to memory while he yanked the shiny handle, shoving it further out of his way with his shoulder before he let you drop forward again; missing his strength to keep your goo-like legs holding you up, you stumbled forward into the car, catching yourself on the driver's seat with your forearms, a stammer forced from your chest when you landed on your palms. you peer over your shoulder at him with wild, hazy eyes, adjusting yourself up on your hands, his hot hands pushing down on the small of your back to keep you firmly against the leather before you get too comfortable, marvelling at the feel of your hammering heart against the soft seat.
katsuki’s hands at the nape of your neck and the small of your back forced you to arch your back further, your plush ass pressing back into him when he lifted your head a couple of inches off the material by your hair, eliciting a high-pitched gasp from you, “say it again.”
there wasn’t a trace of a request in his tone, it was a simple demand, accentuated by the large hand pressing down harder on your back, contorting your body in an uncomfortable pose you’d be relieved of the second he had your approval once more, your trembling figure entirely in control of him despite his incredible strength holding you down.
“i need you, ‘ki, don’t stop.” your head fell forward, your ass pushed back against his hard cock, your stammer breathless but clear when you spoke, your shining lips parting to moan lowly when he released your hair to tease your core again, deft fingers fucking into you again, deeper than they were before when he was focused on taking your attention from the stupid slasher on the screen inside. now his attention was turned to having your pussy clenching him as soon as possible.
the blond behind you groaned, feeling your tight cunt hug his digits, squeezing like you were trying to swallow him deeper and deeper, mesmerised by the way you took him, your blushing, wanton face already marking the soft material of the seat with your foundation and he wasn’t even close to being done toying with you. you were already soaking after the little he was giving you, the movie and now his teasing ministrations having you dripping, hole clenching in anticipation; unnecessary for him to continue pumping his fingers in and out of you other than for his own lewd entertainment, needing to commit the sight to memory in case it never happened again.
“keep talkin’ to me, final girl, you want me to stop?”
you shook your head, your face buried in the crook of your elbow and your back arching into his touch, a long moan escaping you, getting closer and closer to cumming around his fingers, lewd squelching echoing in the dark night.
“you want me to fuck you like this?”
“mhm!”
“you thinkin’ of me or that pathetic slasher, huh?” katsuki's fingers curled as he whispered, forcing a choked gasp from you, any answer slipping from your mind when his fingertips grazed that sensitive spot inside you, your brain going blank, your vision turning white.
colour returned to your vision far too quickly, your bleary eyes snapping open, staring behind you where katsuki stood tall, one hand still pressing down on your back but no other part of him touching you, his wet fingers at his mouth instead of inside your aching pussy, sucking the two into his mouth, smirking down at your shocked face, one eyebrow raising when your mouth bobbed open and shut noiselessly.
“you’re not gonna be thinking of that pitiful ghostface when i fuck you,” the moonlight shining behind him cast his menacing face in darkness, only his eyes and sharp canines glowing from the shadows when he spoke, voice deep and gravelly with his own desire, unable to deny himself your sweet cunt any longer. his dexterous fingers working the shining steel button on his pants undone while you beam up at him, entranced by his bared teeth, narrow scarlet eyes watching you, blond locks hanging over his face when his stare shifted down, lining himself up with your sloppy hole, “you’re gonna be thinking. of. me.”
he sunk into you, word by demanding word, inch by salacious inch, until your eyes were rolling back into your skull, cock moulding your throbbing, silken cunt to the shape of him. 
“katsukiiiii,” you panted, earning a sharp snap of his hips bumping your forward in the car across the seat, your soft sweater doing nothing but glide against the material, digging your fingernails into the soft leather, you tried to hold yourself still, an impossible feat against the strength of his movements.
katsuki’s hot hands seized your hips, pulling you back in time with him thrusting forward, his hips pressing into your squishy thighs hard enough to leave a dark bruise before he was pulling back out to fuck you hard again, his dominance making your pussy squeeze tighter around him, leaving you to helplessly cry out broken stammers of his name beneath him until your voice broke, your breathing growing faster, harder, with his movements, “oh-h, ka-katsuki, ‘m close.”
your slurring words had him fucking ever harder into you, helping you chase the orgasm you’d been desperate for since the second act, shifting your hips to have the head of his cock brushing the spongy spot deep inside your pretty cunt, hitting it again and again until you were squealing, creamy cum gushing out of you to collect around the base of his thick cock in a lewd ring. despite your spasming pussy, katsuki’s vice-like grip didn’t loosen, virile fingers splayed over your shaking hips, pulling them up to keep his pace, dragging his veiny cock in and out of you, watching your cum gather and drip down him to the ground below.
his cock felt like it was in your throat, every thrust forcing out garbled moans into the night air, even a deep sigh escaping the blond above you when your thighs twitched and trembled again. katsuki slid a hand up your spine from your hip, pushing your face back down with a strong grip on the back of your skull, leaning forward to grind deeper inside you, revelling in your muffled whine, watching the way your eyes widened before rolling back again, “you’re gonna cum again?”
katsuki’s mocking tone was uneven, tinged with his own impending end, but you still heard the cocky smile in his voice, his ego ever ballooning at the ease he worked you up, revelling in the warm squeeze of your thirsty cunt around his cock, more and more wetness dripping from you to collect around him. still, you nodded, too delirious to even try and deny the effect he had on you, your tense thighs and delirium only inflating his ego more.
“who makes you feel like this, huh?” his voice was a hoarse whisper now, thick eyebrows scrunching when you squeeze around him again, just from his voice and the stretch of his cock.
“you! you do, katsuki!” you choke out his name once more, your voice still muffled against the seat, his hand at the small of your back doing little to stop you standing on the very tip of your toes to swallow his cock deeper until he matched you with his own stammer of your name, pushing your head down harder as he stood up again, fucking rougher into you, faster, abusing your hole to get to his own end with you.
repeating his name like a mantra, your whole body tensed under him like you’d been shocked, a long whine of his name when you came intensely around him again, your high pitched keen making him follow suit, holding you firm against him, emptying himself into you, thrusting shallowly twice more to fuck his cum deep into you before he laid atop you with a low groan of his own.
you whimpered underneath him, your cunt still tight around him while you both started to calm, heart rates returning to normal, sweating skin cooling rapidly in the night air. you both laid still for a moment, bodies relaxing into the leather like you were in a liquid state, a soft whimper escaping you every so often as the last waves of your orgasm washed over you; similarly, katsuki remained still, gently releasing his grip on the back of your head to hold himself up above you before gingerly standing back up behind you, slowly pulling out of you with a soft wince at the sensitivity, glancing back up to study your face when you shivered at the loss of his warm body.
he leans over you to twist his keys in the ignition, the car starting with a low rumble, air blowing from the vents quickly warming both you and the car. you gawk up at him, stars still in your eyes when you connect the dots, “your car’s been fine the whole time?!”
he slides your soaking wet panties back up your thighs, snapping the waistband against your skin once they sat comfortably on your hips again,“obviously, the final girl’s supposed to notice that.” 
“the final girl was a bit preoccupied.” you glare, gasping again when his fingers loosely loops around your throat to pull you up to stand in front of him again, lust dripping from his near-silent voice, “well, it’s just your luck the final girl owes me a favour…wanna see if you’ll survive the sequel?"
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© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.
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itsswritten · 6 months ago
Text
a new chapter
Pairing: Fairy x Azriel (technically no Az in this, but there's a nod to him if you look)
Word Count: 2.1K
Summary: The start of fairy's story. (Can be read on it's own, but if you read the other parts the pieces of the puzzle will come together.)
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Wings Universe - More from this world.
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The sting from the cuts had dulled as you continued to pull the thorn covered weeds with your bare hands. The feeling becoming numb as the pointed spikes drew blood across your delicate skin. You had never been afraid of hard work, never turned away from getting your hands dirty— but perhaps even this was beyond your ability.
“Y/n,” your best friend, Elodie, whispered with a melody of sadness, the warmth of her own hands gently coming to your shoulders to stop you.
You hadn’t realised till then that you had been crying. Crying while you helplessly tried to save the meadow you so dearly loved. But the meadow you loved was nowhere to be seen. The entire court had been ravaged by vines and thorns, and where no plant grew lay decay and ruin.
In a dishevelled state you wiped the tears from your eyes, faintly smearing dirt and blood across your face. Scrambling to your feet, you looked at your friend. The same sadness drowned her own expression. Whatever hope you held onto, no longer lived within her.
She had only stayed so long for you. The guilt began to gnaw at your gut as you took in Elodie’s dejected expression, dark circles sunk beneath her eyes that mirrored your own.
After Feyre had left, after the upheaval of Tamlin’s court, after the war– things among the land became estranged.
The court was deemed unsafe.
And after multiple conversations with the fairy council an evacuation had been ordered. You supported the move of all creatures, animals, birds, insects across the borders. And then species of Fae and Fairy relocated to the other courts too.
Not you though. You couldn’t bear to leave your home. Not when it so desperately needed your help, now more than ever.
Especially as Tamlin’s sorrow and anger seeped into the soil like a disease, transfiguring even the most beautiful flowers. Turning them into deadly ominous growths.
You had pleaded with Tamlin, even begged on your hands and knees. Head pressed to the floor by his feet. You had requested that he fix things, asked if you could go seek the help of the other High Lords, cried that you couldn’t bear to see the court turn to ruin. 
But he had dismissed you.
Tamlin too consumed by his own self-deprecation and hatred hadn’t wanted help, hadn’t wanted to save his court– or himself.
So you tried instead. A small group of fairies stayed– your friends, colleagues. People who held you in high regard and respect,  people who loved you and believed you when you said you could make a change. But as the weeks turned to months it was only you and Elodie that remained. Somehow, by some stroke of luck there was a small part of the meadow you had managed to maintain. Little blue dahlias bloomed much to the disarray that surrounded them. With time though, the buds began to decay and today you found your little patch of hope overgrown with darkness.
“Let me speak with him one more time.” Somehow you mustered some strength in your voice, composing the wobble in your tone. 
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Elodie asked mournfully, her stature limp with hopelessness.
It wasn’t. Wisdom and smart ideas were long gone. All you had left was desperation. You weren’t afraid of begging, didn’t care how pathetic you might look. You had to try, at least one more time. 
With that you made your way to the manor house, patting down the torn dress that sagged under the despair that filled the air. You pushed yourself through the dark branches that covered the home, the sharp limbs scratching at your skin as you forced your way inside.
The floorboards creaked under your feet, the manor now derelict and plagued by the sharpened vines that crushed the framework. 
This place, just like the court, was once truly beautiful. It was a tragedy what had become of it.
“Tamlin?” You spoke softly, knocking gently on a door that hung to the side on one hinge. Sharp growths sunk into the walls, causing the brick to crumble under its grip. The plant stretched out like roots across the building, the dark energy festering and growing from inside the room. 
You hadn’t needed to knock, but nervously, you had wanted to. Let him know you were here. Unsure what a surprise might spiral him into, and perhaps nervous to what you might find when you entered. You were psyching yourself up.
You could sense him in the shadows, crouched over his desk shrouded in a darkness you never thought could exist in Spring.
“The meadows…” you continued, stepping in when he didn’t respond. “There’s nothing left anymore–”
“Why are you still here?”
“Why?-” Surely he knew. You almost wanted to scoff. This was your home, a land you had committed to protecting and preserving. Had your pleading all those months ago not been clear? Did he even remember?
“Because it is my duty, as it is yours, to ensure the land flourishes and is a sanctuary to all creatures and fae. I am here because I believe we can fix this–”
“Stop.” He cut you off. “Stop with your self righteous bullshit. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Tamli-”
“STOP!” He cut you off like a sword cutting a blade of grass, sharp and swift but with a sting you felt pierce your skin. Tamlin had stood to his feet in defiance, his hands– no, claws, slamming onto the desk in front of him.
The wood groaned under his weight, splinters splitting under his talons. The darkness permitted in the air only grew. Vines slithering on the walls like snakes, while their razor edges glinted in the dim light in a taunt.
Was this person even Tamlin anymore?
The male before you resembled something more similar to the beasts you knew roamed the Middle.
You swallowed hard.
Your relationship with Tamlin was passing, as amicable as it needed to be. As was most fairy and fae connections. You’d always gotten on better with his emissary Lucien, but the beautiful redheaded Vanserra had left with Feyre and not returned. 
Your livelihood, your duty as a fairy had always existed outside of Fae law. You were the Mother’s firsts, her obedient children created to take care of the land. Fairies did not care for control or power. So when the Fae came along– those beautiful but greedy creatures flourishing in their power, fairies had chosen to stay out of their way. Moulded and conceded to their will you could say.
Your kind hadn’t objected when they began to split the land. When they picked rulers and chose borders. Fought over titles and possessions. This wasn’t because fairies were weak. 
No, that was something many misunderstood. 
But because it wasn’t important to your kind. You didn’t care to rule, didn’t care for wealth or power. It was your love for the land that would always come first.
And it was your unwavering adoration for the earth, the droplets that filled the rivers, the kaleidoscope of flowers, and the blessing of all creatures that brought you here–again. Pleading with Tamlin.
You felt for Tamlin, you truly did. You weren’t privy to the intricacies on what had happened among him and the now High Lady of the Night Court, and you certainly weren’t impressed by his questionable actions in the war. But your heart had ached for him.
However, he was now choosing to be an obstacle in your life’s mission. Your patience was wearing thin.
“Tamlin. You’ve wrecked the land.” You said sharply, deciding you weren’t going to dance around your words. No longer dance on that thin line Tamlin had drawn.
“I. Don’t. Care.” Tamlin growled out.
Your fists curled at your side, your wings striking back in frustration as a glow simmered faintly around you.
“You Fae should do right to remember that we were here long before you divided up the lands, and created your silly borders. Segregated fae and animals, we allowed you to reap the benefits on this structure, on the condition that the land would always remain protected–”
“You would do right to remember exactly who you’re speaking to.” Tamlin snarled, the vibrations of his growl rippling through the room as the weight on his talons crushed the desk in front of you.
Perhaps if you weren’t so stubborn you might have backed down. But you see fae, had always underestimated you and your people, dismissed your kind. And now you were angry…angry that all your hard work for years had been wasted, that your loved ones had been made homeless, and that your words were never valued enough by the courts to be listened to.
There was a vibration of power in the room, your fairy dust began to quiver in the air. This energy, pure and light sung within the pockets of air in the room, and while any onlooker would assume it was Tamlin asserting his dominance, they would be quickly corrected by the shock etched into the High Lords face.
As it was your energy causing a shift. Splitting up space with beams of light, fairy dust spreading and scattering in the room, Tamlins vines began to retreat to whatever dark pit they came from.
Just as his vines cowered, Tamlin took a step back.
Just because fairies had never cared for power and control, didn’t mean they didn’t possess it.
You felt a grip on your arm, tight but gentle, and then a slight tug. It was Elodie. She had fought her way through the deadly plants, perhaps pulled by the beaconed glow you were emitting. A warning look on her face, as you tempered your power swiftly. “He’s not worth it.” 
Your gaze flickered back to Tamlin, his expression bore one of surprise. His brows furrowed, frame finally resembling something more fae than beast. His eyes flickered between the two fairies in the room, fairies he had always assumed to be glorified gardeners. You could almost see the gears in his mind turning, as he began to question everything he’d ever known about the fairies that lived in his meadows.
You didn’t want to wait for whatever reaction may come from his revelation. Elodie was right. He wasn’t worth it. You had spent more than enough time trying to save his court, it was time to save yourselves.
Straightening your back, you looked Tamlin directly in the eyes. “We can’t work here anymore, it’s not safe for us and honestly, our talents are wasted in this void.” Elodie looked at you with a proud smile, a softness in her eyes. “If you change your mind Tamlin…just call on us okay?” You didn’t wait for him to respond, simply leaving him a small conch on his desk. 
𓇢𓆸
“Where to now then?” Elodie spoke, placing her hand gently in yours as you both stood on edge of Spring court. Your eyes were still, staring at the dark shrouded forest you had always called home, no semblance of familiarity remained.
“Your cousin from Autumn wrote to us, said we could join her?” Elodie continued, squeezing your hand gently. 
Her warming touch pulled your glassy eyes from the forest behind you. Fully turning your back on the only place you’d ever known. A ripple of sadness cursed under your skin, panging in your chest.
Is this what heartache felt like? At least, some version of it you assumed.
But what help would a heartbroken fairy be to the land, to the Mother?
You held onto that. The resilience that had kept you in Spring till now, a stubbornness that wasn’t going to allow you to give up.
“How about we experience it all Elodie?” You smiled widely at your friend, pulling on those tiny slithers of hope you had left.
Elodie tilted her head, a bright smile spreading across her lips at the notion. You had both always toyed with the idea of travelling, experiencing the terrain of the other lands, furthering your studies and training in the seasons and their creatures.
“Oh do you really mean it y/n?” There was a giddiness, a spring in your friend's step that hadn’t been there for a while.
“We could go see it all, the Pegasus’ of Day, catch a tan in Summer…even check out those Illyrians you find so handsome in Night,” She teased, bumping her shoulder against yours.
You were laughing now, like a pair of young girls again. Linked arm in arm as you took the first steps out of Spring. An excitement simmered in your gut, of what adventures would unfurl, what type of people you would meet.
You weren’t sure what this next chapter would bring, where you would find yourself in a year's time. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, the darkness of Spring feeling further and further, you hoped one day beauty would return to your home.
Whether you would also return to it, only time could tell.
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a/n: I felt like fairy deserved a little backstory <3 show aspects of her character you perhaps haven't seen yet! But yes for those wondering...her and Elodie will absolutely be going on a girls trip across the land. Who would you like them to meet before they end up in Night Court? 👀 I'm sure Helion would be an amazing host and would adore her and Elodie...there's also Autumn, her cousin is there so it would only make sense if she meets Eris right?? What mischief do you think these two get up to? and with who? 😏
forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan
wings tags: @megscabinetofcurios @minaethrym @scorpioriesling
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traumawhomst · 1 month ago
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Vampire v Hunter Fledgling let’s goooo
Tw: Reader is fatally wounded and dies but it is not shown graphically.
Honestly it was cute in the beginning, to be singled out by a Hunter, it hadn’t happened in centuries. It was a bit of an ego boost to think his name was still being spread.
The first time he sees them he almost coos, looking at this twee Hunter, all serious in their leathers, a black mask staring at Him across the room. What really piqued his interest was the fact that they never spoke.
Their first fight was more, well, a play fight for him if he was honest. He threw insults and witticisms trying to get a reaction from the Hunter with no luck. No matter how much he mocked and belittled them, they never once spoke back. Or really make noise other than grunts or slight groans due to exertion. It was charming actually, so many Hunters had their little speeches ready, about their tragic life or to mock Him, or worse go on a tirade about ‘good’ and ‘evil’. Those ones never lasted long, too caught up in their egos to focus on the extremely hard task of actually killing a vampire.
If they’re silent well, that means business, a single minded focus that He could respect. So he lets them live after the first fight. A reward for tracking him down when so many had failed in the first place, something to soften the failure of trying to kill him. He figured he’d never see them again, and he was feeling generous.
Oh but you had to keep finding Him didn’t you? Second time you ambushed him he chalked it to dumb luck, and fought you off with him seriously pulling his punches. You were still silent and nothing he seemed to say got you to crack. The third time was just annoying, he was headed to a party hosted by a dear friend, only to find you waiting right outside for him. He didn’t kill you that time, mostly because he didn’t want to be more late because than he already was.
The fourth time you appeared he was completely done with the situation. It has been fun the first few times but it was starting to seem like you needed a harsher lesson. He was going to just break a limb or something, force you to stop for a while.
And then you winged him, the spike firmly lodged in his left arm. That’s when he was done playing. Faster than you could see he moved forward and threw you into the nearest wall.
It was pitiful, even if he didn’t have much pity at the moment, to see you on your side breathing ragged your body too hurt to even curl into yourself. He pulled out the stake complaining about his shirt and the hole left behind as he strolled up to the Hunter who was trying and failing to reach their cross-bow stake launcher, and He stepped on it, breaking it with a satisfying crunch.
The Hunters hand fell and their body stilled as he got closer.
“Honestly, if a vampire beats you three times you should learn your lesson. I was being quite generous with you, but the ‘indomitable human spirit etcetera’,” he said his tone bored, as he prodded at the Hunter’s quivering body. “That would be the shock settling in,” he said blithely, going to stand up before changing his mind. “Actually,” which was the only warning you got when he pulled off the mask and you closed your eyes waiting for the killing blow.
When you looked at Him, abject horror was not what you expected to see on his face. Had you been injured that bad? You don’t think he got your face. The Vampire’s face was glued to yours and for a moment you were unsure if the silence was worse than a quick death.
“You’re eleven!” He balked pulling back for a second. He was of course off by a decade more or less, but the thought was still mildly annoying.
“Who’s letting you do this? Where did you get your equipment? Where in gods name are your parents?”
From your limited prospective he seemed to be having a complete mental breakdown. He kept speaking in some language you didn’t recognize as he looked over your body again and again. Then his eyes seemed to get wider as he remembered that you were in fact dying at the moment. There was no hospital near enough even with his supernatural speed it wouldn’t be enough time, even if someone came at this very moment he didn’t like your odds of survival.
Part of you relaxed when he finally bit down on your wrist, some of it due to his venom, but the other smaller part who was just ready for the pain to end.
You had not expected to come to, still laying on the ground as a seeping cold numbness grew. Your body hurt but not like it had before, somehow this pain was more terrifying. You spoke for the first time, asking in a broken voice what he’d done to you.
He on the other had just seemed relieved to see you awake. “I saved you darling,” he said running a hand over your head. “You don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”
How big of a lie it was.
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lilrainbowcloud · 8 months ago
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
Pairing: Jet x Earth Bender Reader
Genre: Friends to Lovers
Word count: 1.85k [masterlist]
a/n: theres not much fic for him, why? also this is based on dwoht and am currently listening to it rn.
Taking a deep breath, your foot came down on the earth, making four medium sized rocks burst from the ground.
Focusing your energy towards the wooden circular target that was mounted on a tree trunk, you let out the breath you held and along went the rocks, flying towards the target. Transforming into sharp spikes before impaling themselves into the wood.
An annoyed sigh left your lips. Two of them missed, one went into the outer ring and the other one hit the tree trunk above it instead.
"You're getting better."
Shocked, you turned around to see Jet standing a few meters away from you, in his usual armored attire and hair free from a tie. Didn't even realize he was there watching you the whole time. Didn't even hear his footsteps coming.
"No. I don't know. I guess?" Flustered by his presence and comment, you shook your head trying to clear off the thoughts and went to sit on one of the logs. He joined you right after.
"You are though. It's better than last week." He was watching you. You could feel the weight of his gaze but you just couldn't look back at him.
Were you shy? Yes you were.
To be honest, it was kind of random how you two met.
One day you were practicing your bending by the river. Setting up river stones on the big boulders and trying to hit them with your bending. But, to your luck, or unluck, one of the spikes flew straight past the head of Jet as he was walking to the city.
The day you met was the day you almost potentially killed him.
After that, you had joined his little secret club. It was awkward and it still was with him. Was it guilt and embarrassment that held you back from him? But that was months ago. It was something else here.
You just didn't want to admit it.
Your feelings for him, that is, grew over time. With every time you spent with him, with every encouragement he gave you during your practices, he made you feel safe and secure yet there was a wall separating you from him.
It was you who made that wall. He couldn't see it.
"I almost hit pipsqueak last week," a smile formed on your lips as you recalled the memory. In your defense, he was in the way.
That emitted a chuckle out of him. The sound was lovely to your ears. Your smile remained as you stared at the bonfire in the middle of the pit.
"Hey, come on," Standing up, he offered his hand to you.
Humming in confusion, you looked up at him and took his hand regardless.
"Try it on me," He gave you that smile that just tugged at your heartstrings, playing it like a harp. A melodious sound ringing in your ears.
"What? As in, fight you?" You stared at him as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.
"Yeah, fight me." Picking his swords up, he gave them both a swing.
Oh he was serious?
"No, I'm-I'm tired already," Rose bloomed on your cheeks as you once again looked to the ground, avoiding his eyes.
"Aw come on. You've been practicing with non-moving objects," Stepping closer to you, he lowered his voice even though you two were the only one there, "If you're worried about hurting me, don't be."
🗡️🪨🍃
With every hit he blocked, he took a step forward forcing you to take a step back.
It was a sort of dance. Your feet mirroring his. At times you moved forward, he moved back. Neither gaining or losing as it was balanced. He matched your pace well.
The intense look of his eyes made you realize that he was learning your fighting style and movements. The moment it clicked to you that you had been using the same movements too. Smart on him but careless on you.
Your spikes and dics clashed with the sharp blade of his swords. Dust filled the air between you two as the rock burst into tiny pieces.
Pushing your arms forward, your discs flew in random directions towards him at rapid speed, more quicker than you had done before. Adrenaline pumping in your veins, you could hear your heart beating in your ears.
He blocked all of them swiftly, with every hit he moved forward closer to you but this time you didn't step back.
The last one he crossed slash it about one meter away from you. Some of the little rocks landed in your hair.
You were mesmerized by him. His chest rising and falling with every breath matching yours. His hair matted on his forehead. That was the end of that session.
For a moment it felt like time stopped. With only the sound of rustling leaves in the atmosphere, you both stared into each other's eyes. Dropping his swords carelessly on the ground beside him, he stepped towards you.
You've never been left alone with him before. This was a new situation you had to adapt to. But he was Jet. You know him to an extent, he was your friend and you were his. So why is your fight or flight reaction kicking in?
Even then, you stayed glued to your spot.
Lifting his hand, Jet brushed his fingers through your hair, cleaning the debris, "That was really good," As his eyes trained on the rocks in your hair, you had a chance to look into his. A proud smile on his face, "I told you, you're getting better."
Returning his smile, you thanked him. Silence followed as you looked to the ground again. The leaf covered earth was interesting to you out of all things. I don't know, like the boy in front of you that's looking at you with furrowed brows. But you didn't notice that because you were looking to the ground! Look up please!
"Is everything okay?" Concern laced his tone, "You're being very quiet around me lately." His voice low with the last sentence.
Raising your head, you now realize he was so close to you. So close that he was stepping into your personal bubble. You didn't move away so this was a welcomed presence.
Mouth falling agape, your mind raced to find an answer that wouldn't make him feel like you're pushing him away. You... wanted him to stay.
"What do you mean?" Crossing your arm across your torso, you tilted your head with the question.
"Well," It was his turn to avoid your eyes, kicking his shoe into the ground, "I saw you laughing with them and joking around but when you're with me you're, well," Once again he looked at you, "Quiet."
"Why?" Something in the air changed. It weighed heavy on you. Your heart beating irregularly as with that one word he stepped forward closer. The gap between you almost became nonexistent until you moved back.
Dead leaves crunched under your shoes until your back met the trunk of a tree. He saw it before you did and smoothly put his hand on the back of your head, cushioning it from hitting the hard bark. The gap now? Extinct.
To allow some control, you put a hand on his chest. That was the only little space you had left. You could push him away and he knew that. He moved no further into you and you didn't move away.
The answer didn't come sooner. Your tongue wouldn't move as you tried to focus on breathing with his chest nearly meeting yours. You felt his fingers at the back of your head slightly clutching your hair. How are you still standing up, you didn't know.
"You don't like me?" There was no place you could look except his demanding eyes. Trapped in your own world, you didn't realize it was sunset. The golden light reflecting in his iris and hair made a golden halo around him.
"I do," Emphasizing the last word, you cringe internally as it sounded desperate, "I do like you," You repeated softer.
A second passed.
"Then what? Do I make you nervous?" He was teasing you, his tone. Testing your limits, he pressed himself more into you. You allowed it, hand still on his chest.
Before it was just a single rose, now you were sure a garden was blooming on your face. Body temperature rising, you had to control your breath through your mouth. The oxygen wasn't getting to your brain fast enough, you felt light headed. You would've fell if it not for his other hand which you didn't noticed held your waist in place.
You seem to have lost your bearings with him. It was dangerous, being put under a spell that was tearing away at your guard.
"I," Almost biting your tongue to utter that one word, you gulped. Can he just stop? But at the same time you didn't want him to. If only you had the brain functions to respond to him properly.
A little chuckle vibrated his chest, you felt it in the palm of your hand. Thankfully he read your mind, because you wanted this as much as he did.
"You're adorable, you know that?" The hand that was pillowing your head came around your face as he cups your cheek. Thumb swiping over it once before he pulled your face meeting his and your lips connected.
It was soft, his lips. The kiss lasted a moment. Sweet and innocent. Your senses bursting into vibrant colors. Bright ribbons swirling all around your closed eyes. You could feel his smile against your lips as he pulled away first, still keeping close to you.
His arm that was on your waist wrapped itself around you, pulled your body to him.
Sensing you were comfortable and alright with it, the shy smile on your face told him all, he pulled you back in again. Back into a shared realm, where your heart beats in synchronized sequence, bodies fitting each other perfectly.
Looping your arms around his neck, your fingers mindlessly played with the ends of his hair. A soft hum emitted from him which made your body react in a way it never did before. The grip on your waist got tighter. You decided you loved hearing that little sound and the way his hands gripped your body.
It was you who pulled away first, him chasing your lips but you stopped him with a hand on his chest yet again. You were breathless. Looking up to his eyes as he was still trained on your lips, but he respected your wishes even though he was also out of air.
"I like you," You managed in between breaths. Smiling as you did as the relief of the invincible wall crumbled down and vanished between the space of you and him in your spiritual mind.
The space was established. Whatever force that was keeping you away from him had dissolved. Only his gravity now pulled you towards him.
He smiled too, loving the way your body melted into his.
"I like you too."
a/n: a little rusty on the writing after 2 years out of practice man.. i hope this is okay
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sooniebby · 2 years ago
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ఌ 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃
꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Teaser ➤ You’re cute but so dumb <3
Word count › 1.4k
Rating › NSFT
Warnings › none
Kinks › dumbification, degradation
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ BEGINNING
Yubin was obsessed to say the least. The volleyball continued to be spiked across the room by the over powerful and overachieving athletes of his school. It was only a practice game, he wasn’t sure why they tried so hard.
What mainly caught his attention was (Name).
(Name) was cute, to say the least. Pretty doe eyes and way more buff than the average senior should be but he didn’t care. It’s what he thought added to his charms.
“(Name)! Pay attention!” One of his teammates cried. (Name) flashed his signature puppy-like smile and muttered out an apology.
Yubin was sure his cock twitched. Yeah, he was a massive pervert but he’s gotten used to that. Even his friend, Bora had to get used to it.
“Uh, hide it, you pervert.” She groaned, subtly hiding him from anyone that paid them any mind.
No one usually did. They were outcasts and seen as none important but Yubin used that to his advantage. He could slink around whenever he wanted and no one, not even his teachers, noticed his absences.
A yelp caught his attention as he glanced back towards the ongoing game to see (Name) on his back, his shirt ridden up and showing a peek at his soft abs.
His nipples!!!
Yubin was sure he was blushing red. (Name)’s friend was quick to pull his shirt back down and help him up, asking if he was alright.
Bora rolled her eyes, “not sure how he’s a player if he’s so clumsy.”
“That’s just his charm….”
“Ew.”
𝄞
P.E. ended faster than Yubin wanted to. He and Bora stayed longer than the other kids to help clean up as school was over. It took longer than expected but when he was finished—he was ready to just go home.
But it seemed luck was on his side as the shower room was being used. And by the locker that was still open, it’s was (Name).
A smirk appeared on Yubin’s lips. A peak… A peak wouldn’t hurt. He slipped off his shoes and socks to make as little noise as possible, walking over to the shower room. The sound of water hitting skin confirmed that at least someone was in there.
He prayed it would be (Name) and not some ran-do. And to his luck once more, it was. (Name)’s tanned skin was drenched as he washed off any soap left from his body. His hair was drenched as well, sticking to his forehead as he held his head under the faucet.
This was better than any wet dream he had. Yubin glanced down to get a glance at (Name)’s snatched waist and….
Fucking bubble butt of an ass!!
He sighed in content, gasping once he realized he made a sound. (Name) shrieked and turned around to see who was it only to slip on… nothing? And fall to his ass.
Yubin cursed. Yeah, he was unabashedly a pervert but he didn’t want his soon-to-be lover know that!
“Sor—” he opened his mouth to say only to stop himself.
(Name) was sexy.
Too sexy.
(Name) covered his chest as if he was a girl in an anime, a pout on his plump lips. His doe eyes stared up at Yubin as if he was a big bad wolf coming to eat him. It was just the sound of the running water as Yubin gulped.
He was hard.
Yubin parted his lips to speak but only noticed that (Name) was desperately keeping his legs closed tightly. As if he didn’t want him to get any sort of glance at his cock.
Which, obviously, made sense but what was there to be self-conscious about? (Name) was one of the most sought out boys in their grade. If anything, Yubin expected him to flaunt his looks.
Seeing him like this, Yubin realized (Name) wasn’t a puppy.
He was a poor little sheep.
And he was a perverted wolf.
A bit cringy in his mind but hey, he’s very horny.
“Yubin….” He knew his name? “I thought you didn’t take showers at school…” (Name)’s voice sounded cuter than normal.
God, why didn’t he always sound like this?
Yubin pursed his lips. He might as well be honest. “I wanted to see you naked.”
(Name) meeped in shock, looking away in embarrassment. Yubin felt a sudden grow in confidence as he joined (Name) in the shower stall, not caring at that water drenching him.
He was a pervert through and through. And this was his one chance to see his crush in his full glory.
“You’re cuter than any wet dreams,” he whispered in (Name)’s ear, leaning down to get a proper look at his face. (Name) continued to cover his chest, boobs really, and jutted out his bottom lip.
Yubin reached over and pulled at his lower lip, smirking at the gasp he earned from the boy. He knew (Name) could leave. Use his strength to push off the twig that Yubin was and go call someone to arrest or expel him.
But he stayed there, watching Yubin’s every move as he trailed one finger down his warm skin, grasping one his arms that covered his chest. And he pulled.
And (Name) allowed him to move his arm. His nipples were perked up and with shallow breathing, he looked away. (Name) was confused with himself for allowing him to do this.
Was he touched starved? Was he just horny?
It was all so confusing but a tug at his nipple caused him to whimper. Yubin grinned, his long sticking to his skin as well as his clothes. He was a bit stupid for not just turning off the shower.
But this was hotter.
Yubin trailed his hand down (Name)’s body, a wide smile on his lips. Ah, this must be a dream.
Once he reached (Name)’s muscular thighs, he placed his other hand on them. He moved to open them but was stopped by (Name).
“What?”
“Don’t look….” (Name) muttered, a pout on his lips.
Mm, pouts must’ve been a permanent feature for his face. Yubin simply laughed and stood up, pulling down his gym shorts and boxers to reveal his cock.
“Is it fine if I show mines?” He asked, a bit shocked at himself at being so bold. Yeah, his horniness was getting the best of him.
(Name) looked shock to say the least. Despite being a guy on the smaller side, especially compared to him, Yubin had him out beat on his cock.
It was thick and long, hanging right in front of (Name). Yubin hummed, reaching over to grasp (Name)’s head and bringing it closer to his cock.
“If I can’t see yours, suck mines.”
(Name) was a bit of an idiot to say the least. He could leave. All he really had to do was stand up and he’d be out the door. But he also wanted it.
“You don’t really know to think, do you?”
(Name) frowned at that. Yubin gripped his cock and used it to trace (Name)’s lips. The feeling of pre cum touched his lips as he tried to look down at the cock.
“You’re all brawn but no brains. But that’s okay, I can make the decisions for you.” Yubin grinned, enjoying the dumbed look in (Name)’s eyes.
Yeah, he can teach his little puppy, sheep(?), to obey him.
“Suck.” First trick, obedience.
(Name) hesitated but opened his mouth, choking at the cock that shoved it’s way inside. Yubin wasn’t gentle, using (Name) as if he a toy to use for his pleasure.
Yubin reached over and turned off the shower, wanting to hear every little noise that escaped (Name)’s lips. But this was public, he couldn’t do this for as long as he wanted.
The sound of the locker room door opening told him so. With one quick motion, he harshly pulled at (Name)’s thick hair, a cruel smile on his lips as he signaled for him to not say a word.
“Hey, Yubin, (Name)! Hurry up and finish your shower! I have to close the gym in fifteen minutes!” A coach said, leaving as quick as he came.
Yubin waited until he was sure he was gone until he faced (Name) again. (Name)’s lips were slicked with saliva and pre cum as his chest heaved up and down.
“So cute. I’ll see you at my house this weekend, Hm?”
“Eh?” (Name) muttered, an adorable look of shock in his face.
“My house.” Yubin grinned, a look that made him appear far more beautiful than he scarier appearance. “I’ll text you the address. 2pm, sharp.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving a confused (Name) on the floor with a hard cock twitching to cum.
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
        ╰┈─➤ END
Something new!!! Tell me how you guys think! This is like a preview of a character, Choi Yubin, obsessive band nerd x himbo reader!
I have a future request that has a prompt with this type of archetype but allowed me to choose the character…. So I’m just creating one!
You can now request stuff like that too if you can’t think of a character. Just give me a archetype and plot!
I also made sure you guys felt unsatisfied with the sex just like the himbo! Stay tuned for more Yubin!! (And hopefully others!!)
(Also if you caught my kpop reference, I love u <3)
And thank you for 400 followers!!
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ipostwhatiwant1202 · 8 months ago
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What They Text You: Applies to any...cause they're all a bunch of dorky teens and i dont care what anyone says.
Leo:
• look at my new plant
• would you like to have tea tomorrow?
• you look so pretty 😍 leo you cant see me and? i bet you do
• am i really an old man???? 😭😭😭
• be honest, do you think raph can beat me in an arm wrestle? if you dont answer in 5 minutes, i will assume it's yes and i will prove you wrong.
• good morning honey. have a wonderful day today! ❤️
• are you still mad at me...? LEO YOU SET MY MICROWAVE ON FIRE. so is that a yes?
• have you eaten yet? you need to eat...and drink something other than (your favorite drink)
• i got benched because i can't stop throwing up. i'm fine! leo...you threw up blood literally 10 minutes ago. it was only a little 🙄
• i'm in desperate need of a kiss right now.
• check out my new katanas
• remember that i love you 🥰🥰❤️
• for the last time, i wont download tik tok. you know how bad i hyperfixate 😠
• stop playing candy crush and pay attention to me
• keep it up and you won't get the knots worked out of your shoulders.
• mikey just called me a boomer...i feel like i should be offended. you are a boomer. I DONT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.
• y/n, i love you, but for the love of god, PLEASE PICK UP YOUR SOCKS.
• *drunk* im in a relationship why do i have your name as my love cause my girl/boyfriend/partner will definitely not like that and i dont know who you are but they will kick your ass and i dont even feel sorry cause you arent love leo...you're drunk. NO IM TAKEN
• call me cause i would like to hear about your day and i miss you
• i love you my love ❤️
Raph:
• come watch me bench im bored
• can you please come get mikey before i hit him?
• wear that giant sweatshirt to our date. ya look adorable in it
• why did you ask donnie to help you with your homework?? um...cause it's about neurons and receptors in the brain. i could've helped with google! 😒
• YOU NEED TO COME KILL THIS COCKROACH RIGHT NOW.
• hey babe. how was your day? ❤️
• have i ever told you how beautiful you are? what did you do. nothing...? i just think you're beautiful. raphael. fine..i broke casey's nose. AGAIN!?!
• i'm so tired...wanna come nap with me?
• facetime me so i can show you this cool trick spike can do
• remember how i said i was going to be more level headed? well donnie's new robot almost broke my arm and it's no more. you lasted 1 day more than the last time.
• *you sent a selfie* yeahhhh that's my baby 😍😍
• eat or im fighting you.
• jokes on you ive always been completely unhinged and it's bold of you to think i cant be worse.
• im sick. can you bring me some soup? 😣
• i miss you like a lot and i hate when you're gone
• i love you a whole lot 😘
• im just gonna start carrying you everywhere if you dont stop tripping over NOTHING. im just gonna trip harder. Y/N NO.
• mikey said we're his parents just an fyi. he's always been my son
• i made waffles. you better come eat some
• damn babe you're fine 🤤
Donnie:
• no i wont do your homework for you
• tell shelldon to stop talking back to me before i ground him for eternity
• im in a house of IDIOTS. technically it's a lair. not now y/n.
• you look like a pile of swans in that sweater 🥰
• i can't sleep. wanna play online scrabble?
• sweetie you need to eat more than a bag of gummy worms and a bag of doritos
• you need to come sit with me while i work because i need an extra set of eyes. you just miss me 😏 don't start.
• don't call a plumber! i know how to fix the sink. i got this 😎 donnie the pipe exploded the last time you "had" this.
• *you sent a selfie* you look nice
• im gonna blow up. a person, a thing, a place, all of the above? yes.
• you need to drink straight broth, it'll help soothe your stomach ache
• im dying. you have a cold.
• i love you but please stop trying to assemble ikea furniture on your own.
• good luck on your exams/work project! 😘
• TELL RAPH TO STOP PICKING ME UP TO MOVE ME.
• leo just called me an asparagus. i didn't know how to respond so his phone will self destuct in 5 minutes. DONNIE.
• you're so pretty 🥺
• i made you something and you have to come get it right now. im literally about to have my wisdom teeth out. reschedule it
• listen to the playlist i made you or else im disabling your pirated tv show service
• thanks for listening to me 💜
Mikey:
• babe come snuggle with me
• i made you brownies so come eat them with me while we watch crognard
• i haven't seen you in so long 😭 you saw me this morning. BUT THAT WAS HOURS AGO
• angelcakessssss i love you
• look at this cat video i found
• FACETIME ME THERES A PUPPY
• are you awake? mikey it's 3 am. good, so would you still love me if i was a worm? go to sleep.
• i bet you look like a cuddly bear today 🥰
• im so hungry. can you bring me ice cream?
• raph wont stop being mean to me. can you beat him up? cause a (your height) tall human can beat a 6ft turtle's ass 😑 i believe in you.
• im coming over with my new call of duty game and we're having a game a thon!
• i found a cat. mikey no. his name is gerald. MIKEY WE ALREADY HAVE 10 OF THEM. HALF ARE NAMED GERALD.
• i made you a mixtape i cant wait for you to hear it
• how mad would you be if i crashed the shell razor in a derby and broke my arm? very. then i did not do that.
• im sick. come help me feel better 😭
• call me cause april just told me something about casey that's wild
• i found this cool rock that i think you'll like
• it's so cool i can date you. you're for real the coolest. you broke my coffee table again didn't you? no...maybe.
• im bringing you lunch cause my baby needs to eat!
• this song reminds me of you 💕
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kimmie2me · 5 days ago
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# 03. Unexpected Partners
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✰⋆⁺⋆˙⠀⠀⠀⠀taglist ... chapters ... masterlist
.....
If you’d had a time machine, you wouldn’t use it for anything noble or selfless—no epic rescue of historical figures, no preventing major disasters. Nope. You’d drag yourself back a month just to shake your wide-eyed, naïve self by the shoulders and scream, "Don’t do it. Find another department. Any other department. Join traffic control. Herd cats. Just don’t end up here."
Because here was Bakugou personal circle of hell. The past few weeks felt like a marathon in which you’d been tripped at the starting line, dragged halfway, and then left to sprint uphill. In the rain. With weighted vests. There was no mercy in Bakugou’s world, only adrenaline and barked orders that carried enough force to knock the confidence right out of your chest.
You learned, fast and furiously, that he wasn’t just tough. He was ruthless, exacting, and demanded perfection with all the warmth of a drill sergeant who hadn’t had coffee. And coffee—you’d learned the hard way—was something that could make or break a morning. There was The Incident when you dared bring him a cup with too much sugar, only to receive a sharp glare and a grumbled, “What, you think I’m ten?” The next thirty minutes were dedicated to sprint drills so intense your calves whimpered for days. All you wanted to do is figure out what the hell his favorite coffee is! Yes, you're still trying..
And yes, you're still failing.
Bakugou’s teaching methods were a combination of trial by fire and sheer terror. He wasn’t interested in your excuses or half-assed answers. If you messed up, you’d know—usually by the clipped way he’d shout, “Run it again,” or the eye twitch that signaled he was two seconds from ripping the folder out of your hands and doing it himself.
It wasn’t just the shouting, though that was certainly a staple. It was the moments he’d watch you with that hawk-eyed stare, arms crossed and expression set like granite. There were no second chances when Bakugou was breathing down your neck; you either got it right or got ready to count pavement cracks while doing your punishment laps. You hadn’t done so many wall sits since training, thighs quivering like jelly by the time he allowed you to stand.
And it wasn’t just you. Anyone who dared step into his path found themselves swept up in the tornado of his expectations. It made surviving the day feel like a badge of honor, if surviving meant stumbling into your apartment with barely enough strength to fling your shoes off.
One time, you’d accidentally jumbled up a lead in a report, swapping suspect descriptions that Bakugou caught in record time. He’d smacked the paper onto your desk with an incredulous look. “D’you even read this before handin’ it in?” And just like that, your next hour was filled with circuits and resistance bands that made your arms feel like spaghetti. “C’mon, rookie, or should I start callin’ you noodle arms?” The jab stuck, and you groaned whenever he brought it up.
Bakugou’s wrath was tempered only by moments of begrudging silence, the rare instances where you met his eyes and thought you saw a flicker of something softer, only to blink and find it gone. Those moments would have been comforting if they weren’t fleeting, crushed by his next tirade over a misplaced document or a missed clue.
But just as you’d started thinking maybe you’d bitten off more than you could chew, a case dropped that pulled everyone into high gear: a string of burglaries, each more calculated than the last. No dumb luck, no rookie mistakes would fly with this one. Bakugou’s tension was palpable, a crackle in the air whenever he entered the room. He’d pace with his hands shoved into his pockets, muttering curses and theories under his breath like the case had insulted him personally.
Your nerves spiked with each passing day. Bakugou was more relentless than ever, orders flung out faster than you could grab your notebook. And if you so much as hesitated? He’d turn, eyes gleaming like a predator scenting blood. “Keep up, or get out.”
By the time you wrapped up that week’s legwork, you weren’t sure whether to feel accomplished or absolutely wrecked. Bakugou had pushed every ounce of strength and patience from your body, leaving you hollowed out and aching. Yet, for some reason you’d yet to understand, you kept coming back, stepping into the precinct with a quiet determination that only grew as his glare followed you like a challenge.
Time machine, you reminded yourself, scribbling down notes that were half-legible from your shaking hand. You’d go back, find yourself, and whisper conspiratorially, Choose desk duty. It’ll save your soul.
But you didn’t have a time machine. You had Bakugou. And you were starting to suspect he might just make a detective out of you, whether you survived him or not.
.....
The burglaries had started small—a string of break-ins that barely made the back page of the city’s morning paper. But each successive hit grew bolder, more precise, like the thief was taunting the force. By the time it hit their radar, Chief Yagi’s usually calm expression had hardened to steel, and even the more seasoned detectives were exchanging wary glances.
For you, it meant one thing: Bakugou was operating at maximum intensity, his usual scowl deepened to something almost carved from stone. It was an energy you could feel in the air, like the static before a lightning strike. And with that, the pace of your life turned from grueling to almost impossible. Long days blurred into longer nights, the fluorescent lights above burning into your skull as you combed through reports with squinting eyes and a splitting headache. The precinct buzzed with anticipation and tension, everyone bracing for the storm.
You sat at your desk, meticulously cross-referencing suspect details when Bakugou stormed in, clipboard in one hand and the other pressed into his hip like it was the only thing keeping him from losing it entirely. He glanced around the room, eyes sharp as the edge of a blade, before they settled on you. The air shifted.
“Rookie,” he barked, and you jumped, nearly dropping your pen. He didn’t wait for you to recover before launching into his rapid-fire speech. “Listen up, ‘cause I’m only sayin’ this once. The pattern’s changed. Our thief’s not just hittin’ high-value targets anymore—they’re goin’ after places with tech infrastructure. Means they’re not just lookin’ for loot—they’re diggin’ for data, and if we don’t get ahead, we’re gonna be two steps behind with our heads up our—”
He paused, jaw tightening like he was biting back an insult, and then leaned down, bringing himself to eye level. His eyes were an inferno, daring you to miss a word. “You listening?”
You nodded so fast it was a wonder your neck didn’t cramp, scribbling down notes as if your life depended on it. Maybe it did—at least, your peace of mind surely did. Bakugou’s tone wasn’t just demanding; it was drilled into your skull, searing in its urgency.
“Good. Now, look—”
“Oh! Hey, Kacchan!!”
The voice sliced through the room like a record scratch, shattering Bakugou’s hyper-focused tension into a thousand jagged pieces. He physically recoiled, straightening up so fast you’d think he’d been stung. Your pen stilled mid-word, eyes flicking between him and the newcomer with an internal "?!?!?!?!" blaring in neon letters.
Kacchan?
There, standing at the threshold of the precinct like he’d wandered in by accident, was Detective Midoriya Izuku, all soft smiles and bright green eyes. He gave a little wave as if Bakugou wasn’t seconds away from launching into orbit.
“Kacchan, hi! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Midoriya’s tone was impossibly cheerful, and the nickname fell from his lips like it was a greeting between best friends. But from the way Bakugou’s hands twitched, it may as well have been a bomb dropped into a room full of dynamite.
Bakugou’s response was instantaneous, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “What the hell’re you doin’ here, Deku?”
The silence that followed was suffocating, punctuated only by the distant hum of computers and a detective a few desks over clearing their throat awkwardly. Your heart thumped in your chest as if it was trying to escape the awkwardness, and you glanced at Midoriya, expecting him to shrink back. But he didn’t—his smile wavered, sure, but he held his ground, eyes earnest.
“I’m here to help with the case,” Midoriya explained, and it took everything in you not to whip your head around. Help? With your case?
Bakugou’s reaction was as explosive as you expected. “Help? You—”
But before he could finish, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Enough, boys.” Chief Yagi’s voice was firm as he walked in, flanked by another man who exuded calm authority—the infamous Chief Aizawa Shouta. His tired eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene with a raised brow.
“Chief Aizawa and his team are joining us for this operation. And that includes Detective Midoriya.” Chief Yagi’s tone left no room for argument.
Bakugou’s jaw set so tight you could hear the grind of teeth. And in that moment, you knew that whatever the past few weeks had been like? They were about to get a whole lot more complicated.
You barely had time to absorb Midoriya’s, let alone Cheif Aizawa's, sudden appearance before Chief Yagi called everyone into the briefing room. This would’ve been a regular meeting for the higher-ups—the kind you’d usually only hear about when Bakugou came out, slamming the door behind him, face redder than the emergency exit signs. But today, for reasons you couldn’t fathom, you were summoned along. Because apparently, if Bakugou was involved, you were involved.
The briefing room was already filling up, the thick scent of coffee and paper lingering in the air as officers shuffled in, muttering greetings and speculations under their breath. Chief Yagi took his place at the head of the room, looking as solid and unyielding as ever, while Chief Aizawa leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, observing the room with the detached but alert gaze of a cat watching a busy street. Midoriya slid into a chair near the front, shooting you a small, encouraging smile. Bakugou, in contrast, looked like he’d swallowed a wasp.
Then, in strode Officer Ashido Mina, bright as a firecracker, with Officer Sero Hanta close behind her, both exuding a casual confidence that somehow didn’t feel out of place even in a room of high-stakes professionals. Mina shot a finger-gun wave at the room, winking in your direction before taking a seat across from Midoriya. Sero plopped down beside her, his grin almost lazy but eyes sharp, taking in everything at once.
Chief Yagi’s voice brought the room to order. “Alright, everyone, this joint task force is in place because the burglaries have escalated. We’re dealing with a team of thieves targeting secure information in addition to high-value assets. The leads point to a complex operation, and that’s where our collaboration comes in.”
He nodded to Chief Aizawa, who spoke in that low, measured tone that commanded instant respect. “We need all hands on deck. Each of you will have a role—whether it’s field, intel, or processing. Officer Uraraka will be on the evidence team, coordinating with the data we’ve collected so far.”
The mention of Uraraka’s name caught your attention, and sure enough, she was at the back, beaming when she spotted you. Her presence was a rare comfort in this sea of intense, stern faces. It had been years since you’d seen her, but it was like old times when she waved, mouthing an excited “Hey!”
“Detective Bakugou, Officer L/N, you’ll be working alongside Detective Midoriya’s team,” Chief Yagi continued, and the very air in the room seemed to vibrate as Bakugou’s scowl deepened. He was in full protest mode, shooting daggers at Midoriya, who looked back with a determined—if slightly nervous—smile.
Once the briefing concluded, Chief Yagi dismissed everyone, and the room exploded in chatter as officers filed out. You managed to navigate through the crowd until you reached Uraraka, who practically bounced on her toes, pulling you into a quick hug.
“Can you believe it? We’re working together!” she said, her voice bright with excitement. “I’ve been doing the fingerprinting, data scans—all the good stuff. Remember when I used to geek out about this stuff in school?”
“Oh, totally! You always aced those forensics projects,” you replied, grinning as the memories rushed back.
She nodded, laughing. “Exactly! And now, look at us! I get to actually do it. And you—you’re working with Bakugou Katsuki, of all people!” Her eyes widened with awe and maybe a little mischief, the kind that reminded you of her knack for getting you into trouble back in the day.
“Working is a strong word,” you muttered, glancing over at Bakugou, who was still glaring holes into Midoriya, ignoring everyone else. “Surviving might be more accurate.”
Uraraka giggled but quickly straightened when she caught Bakugou’s expression aimed squarely at her—a glare so intense that it was a wonder she didn’t spontaneously combust. She cleared her throat, gave you a small, sympathetic smile, and said, “Well, I’d better get back to it. I’ll send over the scans when they’re ready! And hey, catch up soon?”
You nodded, squeezing her hand in agreement. “Definitely. Thanks, Ochaco.”
With a final grin, Uraraka turned back to her workstation, her demeanor shifting from friendly to focused in an instant. You watched her go, feeling a brief pang of jealousy at how seamlessly she slid into her work. But that was quickly overridden by the realization that Bakugou was striding your way, arms crossed and a storm brewing in his expression.
“Done with your little reunion?” he sneered, barely waiting for you to nod. “Good. 'Cause now it’s time for you to actually do somethin’ useful, rookie.” He nodded towards the open case file in his hand. “Let’s go.”
.....
The silence between you and Bakugou was taut, strung up like an overused wire threatening to snap. He stalked ahead, practically dragging the storm cloud that was his mood behind him. You weren’t entirely sure why he’d decided that now was the time to go full boot camp on you, but here you were, heels clicking on the polished floor, trying not to look like you’d rather melt into it.
“Listen up, rookie,” Bakugou started without turning around, his voice a low rumble laced with that familiar bite. He navigated the labyrinth of hallways like a predator circling its territory. You’re gonna make yourself useful if it kills ya, got it?”
You swallowed thickly, feeling a combination of irritation and nerves twist in your chest. You’d learned over the past few weeks that Bakugou had a penchant for the extreme. Everything was all or nothing with him, whether it was paperwork, interrogations, or the way he yelled about the printer jamming (which was only your fault that one time).
“Got it,” you managed, though it came out weaker than you intended. He spared you a glance, eyes narrowing as if daring you to prove him right about all the times he’d muttered under his breath about “extras” wasting his time.
As if on cue, the door to one of the briefing rooms swung open, and Detective Kirishima stepped out, his broad grin a sharp contrast to Bakugou’s perpetual scowl. “Yo! Heard we’re working together on this one,” he said, his voice friendly and warm, instantly cutting through the tension.
Great. If there was ever a time to look capable, it was now. Not that Kirishima would ever point out your mistakes, but being around Bakugou had a way of amplifying your self-awareness until it was deafening.
“Try not to get in the way,” Bakugou snapped, jerking his thumb towards the entrance. You wondered if his eyes had always held that unrelenting glint or if he’d sharpened it specifically for you. Kirishima, bless him, only chuckled, patting you on the back as he passed by.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just on edge about the syndicate case,” Kirishima whispered, though you knew Bakugou’s sharp hearing likely picked it up. His glare confirmed it, but he didn’t say anything, turning his attention to the map on the table instead. Red pins clustered like a rash, each marking a hit by the crime syndicate that had every department in the city scrambling.
The realization hit you hard. The stakes were higher than ever, and the idea of fumbling now made your stomach churn. The last thing you needed was to mess up in front of Bakugou and Kirishima, especially when the latter’s optimism made you want to do better and the former’s disdain made you feel like you never could.
Bakugou laid out the plan, his voice cutting through the thick tension in the room. "..'nd if we’re lucky, tonight’s stakeout’ll give us what we need.” He turned to you, eyes narrowing to twin blades. “That clear, rookie?”
“Crystal,” you muttered, earning a sharp nod.
As Kirishima checked the comms equipment, you shifted on your feet, the weight of what was coming pressing against your chest like a vice. The quiet hum of urgency filled the room as you prepared for the night ahead, a stakeout that promised no sleep, a test of patience, and a confined space with Bakugou’s intensity smoldering beside you.
Yeah. You're soo fucked.
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