#feel free to nudge me if it doesn't ]

[simonbrain]

it doesn't matter how quietly you attempt to get off at night; your lieutenant is always listening, always grumpy about the pretty sounds disturbing his slumber.

you were embarrassed when he brought it up to you (keep it down, can't fuckin' sleep with oll tha' racket), so you opted to not use your vibrator the next night, instead using your fingers like some lady from the 1800's. it wasn't as efficient, but it did the job, and you were knocked out after a few orgasms.

you think you're doing good, as he doesn't confront you about your nightly activities for a few days after that. not until one morning when he pulls you over to an obscured area outside, not paying any mind to your stumbling and hissing.

even with the mask on, you can tell he's scowling. "how many times do i 'ave to tell you to keep it down?" he grumbles, peering down at you through golden eyelashes. his head tilts as he speaks, and you have to force yourself to not squeeze your thighs together in front of your superior officer. "i can hear tha' wet cunt through the walls every night—are you tha' thirsty for it, pet?" a finger clips onto your belt loop, and you're being tugged closer, a chuckle rumbling from him when he takes notice of how flustered you're getting.

you've never wanted to explode into tiny pieces more in your life than this moment. your cheeks feel hot, and you can only stare up at him and watch as his gaze roams down your body. heated. predatory.

"i— i don't want—" you try to deny what you know is inevitable because ghost always gets his way, but it's thrilling to watch how he pushes his body against yours, the smell of him overpowering your rational thoughts. he only peels the mask high enough to free his mouth before he's shoving his tongue down your throat, a gloved hand finding its way to the front of your pants.

that night, when you crawl into bed with a fully charged vibrator, warmth already swirling in your belly, you think about how ghost's hands felt on your body. how he so meanly nudged the fat head of his cock in until he was fully sheathed, stretching you so thin you swear he was going to split you apart.

("there we go," he coos—or rather snarls at you, thick fingers filling up your mouth because you were whining too loud for his liking. "knew you wanted this fuckin' cunt stuffed full o'me," he groans while pawing at your chest, harsh pants hitting your ear. "tha's why you're so loud, innit? nasty fuckin' thing.")

how he kissed you like he was trying to consume you, licking into your mouth with such fervour, you were surprised he hadn't already burst into flames. he resembles a brick more than an actual human sometimes, but patience has always been his strongest quality.

you really shouldn't be surprised when ghost pours into your room while you're making yourself dizzy with thoughts of him, your brain liquifying on the pillow from the constant delicious vibrations against your throbbing clit. the sound of the door being kicked shut behind him startles you as he stalks over to your bed.

"i'm starting to think you like pissing me off." he growls softly, the bed squeaking underneath his weight. the vibrator is still buzzing against you, and you swallow when his eyes drop down to the soft, wet mess between your legs. "get on your fuckin' knees, girl."

[99woez]

don't talk about it ᰔᩚ j.sc

warnings. smut, best friend!sungchan, roommate!sungchan, arguing, it's a dumb argument but you are fighting this man, physical fighting, just shoving nothing crazy but a physical altercation starts this all, unprotected sex, hair pulling, some angst? idk if i missed something let me know! i also did not proofread this because i got out 5k words in one night which is crazy for me. anyways, enjoy!

wc. 5k

summary. your best friend embarrasses you in front of your campus crush. so, of course, you decide to fight with him in the living room and learn some interesting things about him in the process.

Sungchan had always been stupidly large, in your opinion.

He was so large that you couldn’t resist the urge to playfully test his strength, curious to see how his fit frame would react to your playful jabs or if he would sway with a gentle nudge. He would playfully push you back, never with full force, but these light-hearted scuffles became a regular part of your friendship. It was a source of joy, a shared silliness, it meant everything.

Except for the times it did.

“You’re so stupid sometimes, oh my god!” You shouted at your so-called “best friend,” shoving hard into his chest. This shove wasn’t like the ones you usually gave him. This one was harsh and mean. There was not a semblance of anything alluding to happiness on your face as you looked up at Sungchan with knitted brows and parted lips, shoving hard into his firm chest once again, this time with a shout of frustration.

If we’re being honest, you two have been drinking. It’s not like you’re shitfaced and neither is he, but the alcohol is just enough to make the world blurry at the edges and your words harsher than you typically allow them to be. His chest, solid as a boulder beneath your pushing palms, doesn't yield like it usually would during your fond roughhousing. He stands firm, his expression teetering between annoyance and worry.

"Stop it," he gruffly says, grabbing your wrists mid-shove. Just like that, the playful laughter that usually echoes between you two gets choked in the tension-filled silence. You try to yank your hands-free, but his grip is firm yet gentle. He was never rough with you, even when the fights turned serious like this. It was a rarity for things to turn nasty, but sometimes Sungchan was so oblivious you couldn’t stop yourself from lashing out at him, especially with a few mixed drinks in your system.

“Let go,” You snapped. Sungchan leans in with a tilt of his head, letting out a “Hm?” as he does so, challenging you.

“Chill out first.” That did the exact opposite of chill you out. You hated it when he took that tone of voice with you, as if you were some child that needed to be put into a timeout. 

There were many things you loved about Sungchan: His kindness, his dedication to anything he sets his mind to, his eyes, you loved a lot about Sungchan, but there were many things you couldn’t stand about him. He was oblivious to the simplest of social cues, he got loud when he was drunk, and the way he comforted people was an absolute joke. If you hadn’t known him for more than half your life and shared an apartment with him, you would’ve ditched him when you two graduated high school.

But you didn’t. Now, you’re stuck with a big, dumb roommate who loves telling the men you like that you like them. God, Wonbin was never going to talk to you again after the scene Sungchan caused trying to get him to give you his number. You still can feel the embarrassment hot in your veins, making you lurch forward and finally give his chest a shove that makes him stumble a few steps.

“I won’t chill out! I won’t! What you did was fucking rude!” You yelled, pointing a finger in his face to punctuate your words and get your point across. Sungchan scoffed, turning his head away from you, but you could see his tongue press against the inside of his cheek, making the skin push out slightly. It was a habit of his you had noticed when you two went to parties together in college. It’s what he does when he’s annoyed and holding himself back, beating someone’s ass. It’s a rare occasion for Sungchan to beat someone’s ass, but when it did happen, it was always deserved. Typically, it would be a drunk guy who wanted to buck up to the biggest guy at the party, a one-sided battle of masculinity that Sungchan always won, no matter who came up to him. You’ve only seen Sungchan throw a punch twice in your entire friendship.

Once, when you were in high school, and the last time was at a party during your junior year of college when a man put his hands on you despite you telling him to fuck off. The other times, he had simply told you about when you’d see him in the kitchen with littered bruises on his body. You think about that night more often than you’d like to admit. Sungchan didn’t hesitate to throw a punch for you, knocking the man clean out by the time he was done with him. It lit a fire in you that you’re not proud to admit. There was just something in his eyes that rubbed your brain right. You would never admit it, but were desperate to see that look again. You wanted to see him angry, to watch him lose control no matter how fucked up it sounds.

“Get your hand out of my face,” Sungchan told you firmly, looking you in the eyes to get his point across, but you weren’t deterred. You step closer to him, finger still in his face.

“No. Not until you apologize. Admit it was rude. You were rude.”

“I wasn’t fucking rude,” Sungchan argues, swatting your hand down when you don’t move it from his face. You bring it back up without a care of the consequences, resulting in a game of him swatting your hand down every time you bring it up.

You two look stupid. Thank God this is in the privacy of your living room.

“You had no right-”

“You were never going to talk to him if I didn’t! You’re a chicken-”

“I’m not a fucking chicken––Oh my god, don’t call me a bird.”

“You’re such a fucking chicken, dude. Do you remember how long it took you to even talk to Shotaro? Months. ‘Took you months to even say hi to him, and that’s because-”

“Shut up.”

“That’s because I had to step it! I was the one to get you to talk to him!” Sungchan continued with a shit-eating grin, voice picking up volume as he leaned down to get closer to you as if you couldn’t hear him clear enough, pointing to himself like he had won some kind of award. Your already flushed cheeks begin to heat up when you remember the Shotaro incident of 2022. He always brought up Shotaro, and even if it was just to pick on you playfully, it still struck a nerve. You were more shy than Sungchan ever was, always letting him start the conversations or introduce you to new people. Half of your friends are Sungchan’s friends; half of the people you’ve dated are because Sungchan knew them first. Every connection in your life could be traced back to Sungchan, which drove you insane.

“Now, you want to talk all this shit because you got embarrassed I had to step in again and help you get some dick,” Sungchan pressed, his grin turning into a smirk as he nodded at his words, feeling them in his being because they’re true. You stared at him with contempt, teeth grinding as your fists balled up tightly. “You should be thanking me. You’re so ungrateful for everything-”

You lunged at him. You swear you don’t have control of your body when you do it, you just throw your entire weight into his chest and hope for the best. Sungchan let out an “Oof!” sound when you collided with him, staggering back and hitting the ground with you on top of him. You act as if you two are playfully wrestling, but none of your movements have an ounce of playfulness in them. You straddled his hips firmly as you shoved at his hands harshly to get them away from grabbing you. You knew once he got his hands on you, it was over. He’d flip you two over, and it’d be done. You couldn’t let him win this. You couldn’t do it. You had to prove it to him.

You don’t know what it was, but you had to prove it.

You grab his hair tightly, jerking his head off the carpet to distract him, tugging hard on the brown locks. Sungchan lets out a yelp that sounds pathetic. His eyes squeezed shut as his large hands wrapped around your wrist to try and pull you off of him.

“Not fair-” He started. You shake his head, eliciting another yelp from him.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up,” You spat at him, shaking him again. His face contorted in pain and confusion, groaning softly as he did what you told him for once. You couldn’t believe he actually listened. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d get this far. You’re not exactly sure what to do next. So, you shake his head again, making him hiss when you tugged harder on his locks. “Can’t fucking stand you, you know that? You’re such a jerk sometimes. Just big, stupid, and taking up space.” You shake his head around with every word, watching him drop his hands and put them up in front of him in faux surrender, but he doesn’t say anything. He only whined and grunted when you pulled on his hair harder than usual.

You waited for him to spit something back at you, to call you a coward, to say you needed him, but nothing but pants left his plush lips. You furrow your brows in confusion at his silence. Sungchan was never quiet. You shake him again.

“Hello? Say something!” You shake his head again, this time back and forth. You won’t lie. It was fun to have him like this. He acted like some kind of puppet that you were the master of, pulling him around in whichever direction you wanted him to go in, and he just took it. Sungchan sighed in defeat, keeping his eyes shut tightly.

“My dick just twitched.” 

Oh.

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Your hands, which had been roughly pulling at Sungchan's hair, suddenly freeze. Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze down at him, cocking a brow at him. His face is flushed a deep crimson, though whether from embarrassment or something else, you can't tell.

"I said," he starts again, much slower this time, swallowing hard, "My... my dick just twitched."

You blink at his repeated confession, not expecting him to repeat the words. There’s a tension growing between the two of you that you’ve never felt before, making your throat dry as you stare at Sungchan’s embarrassed face, watching his chest rise and fall as he pants beneath you. Flashes of what he’d look like without his shirt flash in your brain, wondering what sounds he’d make as you sink down on him, how his eyes would look, how the muscles would ripple under his––Jesus Christ, get it together, girl. You remind yourself, clearing your throat down at him.

“Like…Seriously?” Sungchan nods at your dry words, opening his eyes slowly to look up at you. A switch in your brain is flipped when you see his big brown eyes. He looks utterly pathetic like this, hair in your hand revealing his forehead, eyes pleading for something silent, and lips in a perfect soft pout. You wanted to take his picture like the actual definition of pitiful.

You chuckle at him, shaking him again and tugging his hair hard to see if it really did anything for him. He whines again, shutting his eyes as his hands lurch towards your hips, holding tightly with a sharp breath through his teeth. You smirk at his reaction, raising your brows in slight shock it was this easy to get him going. Maybe it was the alcohol, you think. You’ve seen Sungchan shove his tongue down girls’ throats just mere minutes after he met them, but this is you. You’re his best friend, his roommate, the girl who beat his ass for talking to her crush for her. You know you’re pretty, and Sungchan is just a man, but you’re still caught off guard by it all.

Your palm still cradled his scalp, thumb lazily tracing small circles at the base of his hairline. Sungchan’s hands on your hips squeeze gently, fingers digging into your flesh just a bit more than necessary and causing a shiver to wind its way up your spine.

Without thinking, you leaned forward and claimed Sungchan's lips in a rough, desperate kiss. His taste was different than any guy you've ever kissed - salty with a hint of beer and lime from the drink he had tonight. You wrapped your hand tightly around the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your other hand found its way under his shirt to feel his warm skin. You didn't let up when he moaned into your mouth, feeling your touch while he tentatively kissed you back. Your anger turned into desperation quickly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting him fully now. His lips were soft and plush against yours as they parted slightly to let you in further. You moaned the moment your tongues slid together, digging your nails into his toned chest as he pressed in further, sucking softly on the slick muscle in your mouth.

Sungchan's hands moved up your body, gripping your waist and still pulling you closer. The fabric of your shirt scratching against his rough palms made you shiver with anticipation for more contact. You grind down on him out of instinct, feeling the bulge in his pants grow as he groans against your mouth, wanting more from both of you. His scent filled your senses - a mix of sweat and cologne and something uniquely Sungchan that made you want more.

The sound of his rhythmic grunts filled the room, a mix of desire and surprise in every breath he took. His fingers dug into your skin through your shirt, and you moaned into his mouth once more. Your breath hitched when he bit down on your lower lip gently, making you gasp and whimper into the kiss before breaking it, desperate for air. You gasp softly when you part, watching with hazy eyes as he pants as well, lips slick with spit and typically wide eyes heavy with lust.

You tug at his shirt, nodding before he has any time to say something that will kill the mood.

“Take it off.”

And he listens like a dog, pushing himself up and pulling his white T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside before wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you flush against him. There are no thoughts in your head right now, only Sungchan, touching Sungchan, kissing Sungchan, fucking Sungchan––Holy shit, you were totally going to fuck Sungchan. That hits you harder than you thought it would. You’ve thought about it before. How could you not? He’s beautiful, kind, and built like a God. Of course, you thought about fucking Sungchan. It was nothing like this, however. Typically, you thought of him having your face pressed into the mattress, back arched, and fucking you from behind like he was getting paid. You would’ve never guessed you’d be on top, but it’s not like you can’t get into it for Sungchan. You’d do anything for Sungchan.

"Are you sure?" Sungchan whispers against the skin of your neck, his hands finding your hips again to steady you against him, his bare chest warm and firm. You're taken aback for a moment, not expecting the question. But then you realize that he’s always been considerate, even when he’s on the verge of losing control.

"Yeah," you say firmly, the word slipping out without thought and causing heat to flare in Sungchan's eyes.

Without hesitation, you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head swiftly. The cool air hits your skin, making goosebumps spread across your chest and arms. Sungchan's eyes widen as he takes you in, his gaze making you feel exposed and powerful. You struggle to pull your jeans off, having to crawl off of him to kick them off in haste. You hate how desperate you look but can’t bring yourself to care. Sungchan rolls on his side when you crawl off of him, lingering towards you like a lost puppy. His eyes watch as more of your skin is revealed to him, letting out a groan when he sees the smooth skin of your thighs.

Before you have the chance to climb back on top of him, he leans in, kissing the side of your thigh with a moan. You let out a gasp in shock but watched him with parted lips, threading your hands through his hair again as he dragged his lips all over the expanse of your thigh, leaving a trail of glistening spit as he did. He grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him roughly, making you fall back onto the carpet with another gasp. You don’t argue for once; you are too invested in what Sungchan will do next, even if you care.

His lips pepper kisses across the inside of your thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin with deep breaths as he inched closer and closer to your core.

He licks his lips as he hooks a long finger in your underwear, pulling them to the side. A moan leaves his lips when he sees your pussy for the first time, looking down at it like he’s looking at a coveted piece of art. You watch him closely, ears turning pink as he lifts two fingers to his lips, licking the tips of them before bringing them down between your legs to rub circles into your clit. His gaze stays on your cunt, watching how the pretty pink flesh moves beneath his fingers, biting his bottom lip when he hears you let out a whine, seeing your thighs tremble at just the slightest touch. Finally, his dark gaze lifts to meet yours.

With his eyes trained on yours, he presses a long finger inside you. A sigh leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, gripping the carpet with one hand while the other dug into your side, biting your bottom lip as he pressed another finger inside. You moan this time, feeling your walls begin to stretch for him. You hear him groan quietly, making your eyes open. You’re immediately met with his gaze that never left your face. He looks like he’s in a trance, staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You can’t tell how it makes you feel, but you feel hot, like you’re boiling from the inside out. It aches, but it’s so intoxicating that you want more of it.

You whimper at how his fingers slickly slide out, then back in, watching him get lost in the sight of your reactions. You’re so wet for him. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you got so quickly. You swallow thickly as your chest rises and falls with each pant. His eyes stay on your face as his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles that make you shiver with a choked-out moan. His free hand cups your jaw, tilting your head back slightly, forcing your lips apart to look deeply into your eyes as he watches you crumble under him.

Feeling emboldened, Sungchan takes his fingers out of you slowly, letting out a long moan when they leave you empty. He lays a line of sweet pecks against your inner thighs, leaving tiny bites and nips on the soft flesh until he reaches the hem of his boxers. With a breathy "Fuck," he tugs them down enough to reveal his hard cock pressing against the fabric. You gulp as it springs from its confines, averting your eyes momentarily before snapping them back up to challenge his gaze. His thick length twitches with anticipation before he guides it towards you, slick with pre-cum leaking from the tip. Your heart stops for a beat before racing wildly in your chest again.

"Wrap your legs around me," Sungchan orders softly, not breaking eye contact even when you hesitate for a second before obeying. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock, pushing inside without a moment’s hesitation. He slides in so easily, groaning at how smooth the glide inside you is. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, making you moan as well. The way his cock splits your walls apart for him is delicious, to say the least, as a euphoria fills your veins as your walls spasm around him with another moan, this one airier than the one before.

“Fuck,” Sungchan curses, fingers digging into the carpet next to your head as he looks down at where your bodies were connected before back at your face. You two lock eyes again, making your heart hammer in your chest harder than before. Still, you meet his gaze with a quiet whimper, hands wrapping around his strong biceps as you bat your lashes at him.

“Feels good, Sungie?” You ask in a too-sweet voice. You rarely whip out for him unless you ask for a favor, like getting something off the top shelf or making him finish your short answer response questions because you don’t want to. Sungchan would do anything for you, and you’d do anything for Sungchan. He takes a deep breath at your tone, lips curling into a smirk before he bites his bottom lip, nodding.

Then, his hips roll into yours.

Sungchan's thick cock feels even better than you could have ever imagined, stretching you wide and fulfilling you completely. His hips roll into yours slowly, making you moan and whine beneath him with each gentle thrust. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, his smirk turning into a grimace as he leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss.

Your walls clamp down on him at the contact, purposely trying to get more friction between the two of you. Sungchan groans against your lips, slipping his hands under your back and lifting you up onto his lap effortlessly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his hard chest pressed against yours. Your heart pounds in your chest as he starts to fuck you properly now, eyes closing at the sensation that washes over you. You swear you can feel his heartbeat against your chest, but you convince yourself you’re just dreaming it.

You feel every inch of him inside of you, making your walls tighten around him with every snap of his hips into yours. A tiny sob leaves your lips when he hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. You dig your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, jaw-dropping and eyes rolling back at how your body moves like a rag doll and at how sharply his hips snap up into you. He groans into your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin before sucking softly to soothe it with his tongue. You can't help but shudder in his lap; this feels so good that it hurts. His hands hold you in place, one on your waist and the other cradling the back of your head as he takes rough control of the kiss again, teeth scraping against soft skin with every thrust. He pants against your lips, moaning your name softly and how good you make him feel. It's all too much for you; all too real with Sungchan, yet so not real. You’re fucking your roommate on your living room floor––You’re fucking your best friend on your living room floor.

Your hands find their way into his hair again, holding onto him tightly as he continues to fuck into you like your his, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your collarbone. You mewl at the feeling, arching your back into his chest as he hits that sweet spot inside you once more. You could feel the warmth spreading through your veins, making you dizzy with need. The room spins around you as he thrusts harder, faster, deeper into your already aching pussy. His moans mix with yours, their tongues meeting in a messy kiss that speaks volumes about how much you both want this.

Your legs quiver as he takes control of the situation, fingers digging into your skin softly before trailing up to caress your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a strangled cry when he pinches at one of your nipples roughly, making you moan into his mouth even more, looking down to watch him work with a breath through your teeth. Your hands' card through the hair on the back of his head, eyes shutting to focus solely on the pleasure coursing through your veins with every drag of Sungchan’s cock against your walls.

"Sun-Sungchan," you whimper. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears. Your body is sweaty and flushed, a beautiful sight for him to feast his eyes upon. He growls lowly when he finally meets your gaze again, heat pooling in your lower belly at the raw desire he displays.

“You’re so fucking good, baby. ‘Should’ve fucked you soon, hm?” Sungchan groans, his voice creased with effort as he continues to pound into you. You can’t help but respond with a needy whimper, skin burning under his touch as you nod your head dumbly. You feel him everywhere, and it's overwhelming - the way he’s stretched you wide open, the way he feels pushing deep inside of you, the way his hands are holding you in place as if afraid that you'll slip away from underneath him.

Your heart beats furiously against your chest, matching rhythm with the throbbing ache between your legs. You're close, too close, but not quite there yet. Sungchan seems to sense your growing desperation, the flash of triumph in his eyes telling you he knows exactly what he's doing to you. He reaches down and begins rubbing slow circles on your clit again, thumb pressing against the sensitive nub just enough to make you cry out in pleasure.

“You gonna cum for me?” He whispers against your throat, teeth dipping into your soft flesh, causing a sharp gasp from your lips. You nod frantically in response, words failing you as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins. He laughs softly - a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine.

The way you melt against him is intoxicating. He grunts, unable to think straight as he feels his own orgasm building up. His hips move even faster, his cock sliding in and out of your welcoming heat with each thrust. He groans against your skin, panting heavily as he fucks you like it’s his last dying will, wet sounds filling the room that mixes with your pants and moans. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sounds you’re making, cheeks growing more read because of it. Sex is so embarrassing sometimes.

He pulls away from your neck just a little to look into your eyes, panting heavily as they roll back in pleasure. Sungchan's lips curl into a smirk at seeing how lost you get. Your walls tighten around his cock once again as you cum around him, making Sungchan's eyes roll back into his head and tilt his head back with a melodic groan that has you moaning as well. You feel him tremble beneath you as he finally cums inside of you, making you smirk softly as your hands run up and down his back.

You throw your head back and cry out his name, orgasm hitting you hard and fast like a freight train. He watches as you finally hit your peak, jaw-dropping at how gorgeous you look when you feel good. Your walls clamp down around him, and your muscles spasm in ecstasy; even through the haze of pleasure, you feel every drop of his cum spilling into you, the heat of it searing into your core. Your body convulses and shivers under the onslaught of pleasure, your voice breaking on Sungchan's name. 

Sungchan stays still for a moment longer, his cock still buried deep inside of you. His chest heaves against yours, ragged gasps filling the space between your sated bodies. He blinks slowly, his gaze holding yours captive as he pants out your name. You take his face into his hands with a deep breath, leaning in and kissing his lips without a second though. He moans into the kiss, holding your wrists gently as he does so.

You both stay like that for a while. Bodies joined together in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. The only sounds in the room are your gasping breaths and the rapid beat of your heart pounding in sync. Cautiously, Sungchan pulls out of you gently, making your pussy squeeze around nothing instinctively at the loss, a soft whimper leaving your lips.

He rolls off to one side, pulling you with him so that you're tucked against his side. His arm wraps around you and keeps you close to him, fingers dancing along your sweaty skin lightly. Neither of you speak for long moments, too wrapped up in trying to regain control of your breathing and coming down from your highs even to fathom thinking of words right now.

Eventually, though, Sungchan breaks the silence with a soft whisper, "You okay?"

Your lips twitch into a tired smile against his chest, pressing a small kiss there before nodding. "Yeah," you huff out after a moment, "That was…"

"Crazy," he finishes for you, making you shut your eyes with a laugh, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah…That was crazy,” You whisper, moving your head to rest on his chest to soak up more of his warmth. Your cheek squishes against his chest as you lay there, looking down at his spent cock resting against his thigh. It hits you that you’re both naked and just had sex on your living room floor. This calls for a conversation at the least but you can’t drag yourself to start it, completely spent from what just occurred.

So, instead, you close your eyes.

You’ll deal with it in the morning.

[uzurakis]

hii again!! I’m here to request a Drabble/headcannon (doesn’t matter to me :3) where the reader gets approached by two strangers n one of them goes ‘hi my friend thinks you’re cute’ and motions to their friend next to them even though the jjk men (yuta and Megumi but feel free to add anyone else!) is literally RIGHT next to them (this happened during lunch a week ago n all my friends laughed at me 😭😭😭)

WHEN A STRANGER CALLS YOU CUTE IN PUBLIC!

featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.

n. hi baby! i supposed you’re the same nonnie that requested the stalker one? thank you for trusting me with your requests cause yours are always enjoyable to write and your ideas are *french kiss*. i hope ya like this one and please if you have any ideas you wanna share, hmu! ill always write yours bby. mwaah xoxo

hey, excuse me! my friend thinks you’re cute . .

ITADORI YUUJI. you exchanged a surprised glance with itadori, who cracked a smile sheepishly. "oh yeah? thanks," he replied, clearly missing the implication. the stranger nudged their friend, urging them to speak up. "uh, yeah," offering a nervous smile. "you're really cute."

your boyfriend only chuckled, oblivious to their intentions. "right? my girlfriend is the cutest!” he said proudly, pinching your cheeks infront of them. “yuu, we’re in public..”

the strangers shared a bewildered look, realizing that their attempt to strike up a conversation with you had been unintentionally thwarted. "uh, yeah, you’re really lucky," the stranger managed to mumble before they awkwardly excuse themselves and slipped back into the crowd.

you and itadori watched them go, bemused expressions on your faces. "did you catch what they were trying to do?" you asked, stifling a laugh. itadori shook his head, still clueless. "nah, but it doesn't matter. i already know who the cutest one here is," he said, planting a kiss on your cheek, causing you to giggle at his oblivion.

GOJO SATORU. before you could respond, gojo stepped forward, subtly clearing his throat. you shot him a puzzled look, wondering what he was up to. “yeah? well, she's taken," declaring at once, voice laced with amusement as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

the strangers kept eyeing you curiously, seemingly undisturbed by the statement he made. "oh really? too awful," one of them remarked, maintaining a smile.

gojo raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing glance with you. it was clear they weren't getting the hint. with a sigh, he cleared his throat again, this time louder, as he firmly took your hand and started to lead you away. “sorry, folks, but we're kinda busy," your boyfriend said with a charming smile, gently steering you in the opposite direction.

as you both walked away, gojo grinned down at you. "just making sure they know who you belong to, darling,” he said, pulling you closer as you continued your walk through the path.

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you immediately glanced nervously at megumi beside you. however, your boyfriend remained silent, his expression unreadable as he gazed at the strangers.

unsure of how to reply, you gave the stranger a hesitant smile. megumi didn't express his jealousy, but it was obvious that he was still very much in the dark about it. the stress was literally radiating off of him. "um, thank you," you managed to murmur, feeling awkward under megumi's scrutiny.

the strangers seemed unfazed by megumi's silence, continuing to chat amicably with you. they asked questions, trying to engage you both in conversation, but megumi remained aloof, his attention solely focused on you. you glanced at him, catching the tightness in his jaw and the furrow in his brow. he was clearly uncomfortable, but he didn't make a move to pull you away from the strangers. rather, he only stood there, sulkily contemplating.

sensing his unease, you subtly shifted closer to him, hoping to offer some reassurance. megumi glanced down at you, his gaze softening ever so slightly before returning to the strangers, "hey, you done talking?" he shot at the strangers with thinly veiled irritation.

he then sighed, a hint frustration crossing his features. without another word, he gently took your hand and pulled you away from the conversation, his grip firm but not forceful. as you walked, you stole a glance at megumi, finding his expression softened slightly, his jealousy dissipating now that you were out of the strangers' reach. “i didn’t feel it like has to be said, but,” a tint of red swelled on his face, his eyes denying your gaze. “yeah, you’re always pretty. and if you need someone to say it, just,”

“just ask me, okay?”

YUTA OKKOTSU. you responded with a timid smile, sensing yuuta's comforting presence beside you. he let out a soft chuckle, his laughter soothed the situation as you thanked the compliment. "i appreciate it.”

yuuta's casual reaction didn’t appear to dismiss the strangers, as they continue to strike up a discussion as though you’ve been friends for years. while yuuta stays a silent yet watchful presence, they kept the questions going.

after a while, yuuta's smile widened, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he glanced at his watch. "it was fun talking to you guys," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "but me and my girlfriend need to be somewhere else."

you blinked in surprise at his sudden intervention, but the strangers took it in stride and finally offering their farewells. after they walked away, you turned to yuuta, curiosity piqued by his unexpected assertiveness.

"you’re not going to say anything about it?” you commented, impressed by his ability to not get jealous or anything else in between. yuuta brushed your hair, his gaze warm with affection. "cause they weren’t wrong though. you are the cutest.”

@uzurakis — reqs are open! <3

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[a11eya]

TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers, soft Bakugou Katsuki, fluff, mutual pining, smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader with afab body parts, reader with hair that can be pushed away from face when damp

STATUS: Completed; 3 of 3

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

NOTE: Minors, DNI! This chapter contains smut.

“Watch it,” Bakugou snaps. 

His hand shoots out to grab your upper arm as you stumble over a hidden tree root, too engrossed in the pictures you’re taking with your phone to notice what’s underfoot.

“Pay attention,” he growls as he steadies you. His hand is warm where it’s wrapped around you. 

Heart thumping in your chest, you slip your phone into your pocket, feeling duly admonished. 

“Sorry,” you say, looking up at him. “And thank you. Your reflexes are amazing.” 

Bakugou scowls at you. “Be more careful or I’m taking you back down.” 

“You and what army?” You stick your tongue out at him.

Some expression you can’t quite read flickers across his face, and he narrows his eyes at you.

Your momentary courage deserts you. You squeak and pull yourself free from his grasp, making your way hurriedly up the marked path while trying to balance caution and speed so you don’t trip and fall on your face.

Behind you, you hear a sharp bark of laughter. You can’t help but look back. 

Bakugou’s gaze immediately catches yours. There are traces of laughter still in his face—in his eyes, on his lips. 

It’s not the first time you’ve heard him laugh, of course. Kaminari’s hilarious, and when he, Kirishima, and Hanta get going at parties, everyone’s laughing. (Even if Bakugou sometimes laughs at them more than with them.) And that’s not even taking into account how much of a menace Bakugou is when Todoroki’s around to tease.

But it’s the first time you’ve made him laugh. You want to keep making him laugh, you realize. You really like him, and it’s such a problem. All that time spent trying to keep your distance, get over him? Undone within a few days.

As Bakugou’s long strides quickly eat up the distance between you, you try to compose yourself, hoping none of your thoughts are visible in your expression. It’s fine.

He puts a hand on your back, nudging you forward. 

“C’mon,” he tells you. “If you wanna make it back in time for dinner, save the pictures and the attitude for the top.” 

Much of the trail takes you through a forest filled with cedar and birch trees with a steady incline upwards. Wooden stairs and handholds appear a couple times, as this hiking trail is well-traveled. You pass some people in pairs or families on your way up, but not often. 

When you hike—and yes, you usually do take a friend or two, Bakugou—you prefer not to talk much. A lot of the time it’s because your lungs can’t multitask; the physical exertion of breathing is more than enough. But it’s also because you hate to cut through the sound of nature with your voice. You love the birdsong, the wind rustling the trees, the faint hum of insects. 

Bakugou is quiet too, for the most part. When he does speak, his voice is low, quiet, with check-ins and directives. 

“You out of water? Here.” You find out he has water, a first aid kit, snacks, and who knows what else in the backpack he’s brought along.

“Gimme your hands. Rocks’re slippery here.” He’s all easy strength, a warm grip. Your hands in his. 

“Let’s stop here for a minute.” He’s not tired at all, but you are as things get steeper, and you don’t even need to say anything for him to pause for a break. 

Bakugou’s a good hiking partner. He’s better than Rie, who refuses to do anything with an incline and complains the whole way anyway, or Hanta, who chats your ear off the entire time and outpaces you with his long legs and hero stamina. 

Maybe when the two of you get back to Musutafu, Bakugou’d be willing to go on another hike with you. A friendly hike. You’ve never done anything one-on-one with him before this weekend, and since you’re slowly coming to accept that maybe you’ll have feelings for him forever, it’ll be fine. 

You reach the peak around noon. 

“Bakugou,” you say, staring out into the distance. You glance away briefly to put your hand on his forearm, shaking it slightly in excitement. 

Bakugou huffs, stepping closer to you. 

“Look,” you tell him, and his eyes meet yours. You know it’s because of a few clumsy moments you had getting up here that he’s keeping within arms length of you at all times, but—he’s so close. And he acts like he has no idea what he looks like, sunlight limning his blond hair and turning his eyes clear crimson. 

You look away, back out. You don’t want to make things weird when—when you’re friends, now, right? The time you’ve spent together this weekend, just the two of you… you’ve got to be friends at this point. 

You push your thoughts aside and try to recenter yourself, focus on what’s in front of you.

Trees grow everywhere you look in deep shades of green and umber. The nearby lake shimmers, placid. In the distance are mountains, making their mark against the horizon. 

“It’s so beautiful out here,” you say. You turn your head to look at Bakugou again, smiling, only to find that he’s still looking at you. Your hand’s still on his arm. 

A little flustered, you let go of him. In a voice softer than you intend, you tell him, “I’m having a great time. Thanks for coming with me.” 

He looks at you for a long moment.

“Good,” he says. 

Soaking in the open-air bath does wonders for your body. 

It’s a little too early for muscle aches and soreness, but you can already feel how fatigued certain parts of your body are—your feet, your calves. The hot water is like a balm as you submerge yourself to your chin. 

The public onsen is nice, but crowded. You visited yesterday, after the morning market, and enjoyed it. But it’s a different experience, here in your room’s private outdoor bath. It’s like you’re the only one in the whole world. You needed this time and space to yourself after returning from the hike with Bakugou. When you’re with him, it feels like all your senses are dialed to 110% and the only thing you can think of is him. In the hours since the hike, you took a nap and then checked in with your friends. 

Sero finally got back to you late last night, letting you know that he’d met Rie halfway and traveled back with her to Musutafu. Rie messaged you a picture she’d taken of herself, looking haggard and depleted, with her client barely visible in the background looking stunningly gorgeous. Rie’s always been super talented at turning people into works of art.

They both asked how you’re doing. In your group chat with them, you sent along pictures of the gifts you’d gotten them and the photos you took on your hike. The views you captured look unreal, like CGI, they’re so pretty. 

You even got Bakugou to take a few pictures—a couple of you, with a big grin, throwing up a peace sign, and even a selfie of the both of you. He’s not smiling, exactly, in it, but his neutral expression is handsome anyway. You weren’t sure he wanted it, but you sent the picture to him, just in case. 

You did make the mistake of sending one of your solo pictures in your group chat with Rie and Sero because Rie immediately sent you several follow-up direct messages while Sero just sent a thumbs up.

Rie: Who took this????

Rie: Who were you with??

If you told the truth, you’d never hear the end of it. Instead of replying to her, guiltily, you left her messages unopened, to deal with later. 

You drift, eyes closed. The daytime sounds of birds and cicadas have been replaced by the chirping of crickets as the sun sets, casting a dreamy orange glow over everything. 

You’ve nearly dozed off when the sound of knocks on your door has you stirring. 

Briefly, you entertain the urge to ignore it. It’s probably someone who’s got the wrong room, as you aren’t expecting anyone. You do plan on ordering the in-room dining menu but haven’t gotten around to requesting it yet. 

But the knocks come again, and then your phone pings. 

Sighing, you stand, water sloshing and streaming off your body. You grab a towel and briskly rub yourself down so you aren’t dripping water everywhere, and then you shrug on the onsen-provided robe. 

As you pad over to the front door, you grab your phone and glance at the screen. 

The message preview says—

Bakugou: You in your room? 

Blinking, you jerk your head up to stare at the door. It’s quiet now. 

Hurrying over, you open it. No one’s there. 

You stick your head out and look both ways. To your left, you see Bakugou’s retreating back.

“Bakugou,” you call. “Come back!”

He stops, turns. His eyes land on you, and he scowls. 

You resist the urge to jerk back. What’s his deal? You were in the bath; you answered the door as fast as you could.

You make a face at him. 

With long strides, Bakugou’s back at your door. He steps close, almost crowding you. 

“Get back in there, you aren’t even dressed,” he says. His eyes drop down to your shoulder, then quickly dart back to your face. 

Your robe had loosened, one side sliding down your shoulder a little when you’d leaned out to look for him. You feel your face begin to warm as suddenly, you’re hyper aware you’re not wearing anything under this robe and he’s just a step or two away. 

You fix your robe.

“There isn’t even anyone around,” you say, stubborn, just to get your mind off of the path it’s taking. He’s clearly freshly showered, hair damp, and you’re reminded of your first night here in the bamboo garden, him, under the moonlight. 

Stop. 

As if to prove you wrong, you begin to hear the faintest sound of voices echoing from down the hall. Bakugou looks at you as if to say I told you so. 

You step back. “Come in.”

Closing the door behind him, you cross your arms over your chest, trying not to feel self-conscious. 

“What brought you over here, anyway?” you ask. 

“Was gonna ask if you wanna eat with me for dinner,” Bakugou says. He avoids looking at you, glances around your room, and you’re glad that you’re generally a pretty tidy person. Glad that he’s not looking at you, but also a little disappointed, though you know it’s dumb. He’s not interested. 

“I’d love to, but I feel like a limp noodle,” you say. “I doubt I’ll make it to the restaurant. And I might fall asleep over dinner. I was gonna order their in-room dining menu instead.” 

You’re telling the truth. You feel like you’ve spent your time well on this vacation, but you’re tired.

But you don’t want to say no; you don’t want to turn him away. You’ve already spent so much time with him, but it’s like you can’t get enough. 

“Do you wanna join me?” you ask. 

Bakugou puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. But let’s eat in my room.”

You furrow your brows. “Why? We’re already here in mine.” 

He shrugs a shoulder. “Go get dressed.”

You stare at him, bewildered. What logical explanation could there be for him to want to dine in his room instead? Maybe his room’s nicer than yours? But he’s never struck you as the kind of guy to care about stuff like that. Maybe he forgot something in there? But that’s silly, he presumably just came from there. The in-room dining menu costs the same across the rooms, so it can’t be that…

Pausing, you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Is it because you want to charge the meal to your room?”

His silence is telling. He looks at you, unwavering, as if maintaining eye contact will make you back down. But you’re unintimidated. 

“I know your tricks now, Bakugou,” you tell him, smug. “You can’t fool me. We’re eating here, and I’m paying for it as thanks for the hike today. Go sit on the couch, feel free to turn on the TV. I’ll be right back.”

You turn before he can say anything, grabbing some clothes from the dresser and walking into the bathroom to change. Faintly, you hear the sound of the TV being turned on. 

Your small victory has you re-energized. You change, buoyed with it. You do wonder about this newly discovered quirk of Bakugou’s—paying for things unnecessarily. You do recall he’s never been stingy, covering rounds of drinks at get-togethers, spotting your mutual friends’ meals on birthdays. 

It doesn’t come across as—I have more money than you do, so I’m flaunting it, even though you’re aware that he does make more than most of your friend group because of his higher hero ranking and the fact he owns his own agency. It feels more so like his way of showing his friends he cares; it’s warming that it’s something he’s trying to do with you. 

It’s juvenile, this need to be reassured, but you wish you could ask him if he thinks of you as a friend. 

When you leave the bathroom, you find Bakugou sitting on the couch, flipping through the provided menu. He looks up as you approach and sit a cushion away from him. 

“You like fruit?” Bakugou asks. 

“…Yes?” you say, blinking. “That’s so random.” 

He tilts his head toward the other end of the couch where the gifts you’d bought at the market sit. Sero’s bag of fruits is open, peeking through. 

“Oh! Those are for Hanta. You know he likes citrus fruit, right? You got him those oranges a couple weeks back.” 

Bakugou raises a brow. “He tell you about that?” 

“Yeah! He was talking about them non-stop for a couple days. Couldn’t get him to shut up. It was really sweet of you—I think those oranges are his favorite variety.” 

Bakugou’s expression is hard to make out, but you think maybe he’s pleased. He’s a really great friend, you think. 

“Let’s order,” he says. 

You order to your heart’s content, feeling justified since you’d only eaten an onigiri and some snacks Bakugou’s brought for lunch, at the peak. While you wait, a hero special on All Might begins playing on the TV, and the both of you are unable to resist being drawn into it. He was the hero of your childhoods, after all, the biggest star.

“What’s he like, anyway?” you ask Bakugou. When he looks at you askew, you make a face at him. 

“I only ever saw him at events or peripherally, teaching the hero course,” you say defensively. “You probably don’t remember, but I was in the management course.”

“I remember,” he says. You resist the urge to grimace. You wish he didn’t; you’ve been getting along so well that you lulled yourself into forgetting about your cringy past. 

“...He’s annoying,” Bakugou says after a moment, interlocking his fingers and staring down at them. “Old man doesn’t know when to quit. Still at that damn school.” 

“Still teaching?” you ask. “That’s nice.” 

“Should retire,” Bakugou mutters. “He’s done enough.” 

“He’s done more than enough, I think,” you say. “But you heroes always give so much of yourselves, going where you’re needed. It’s one of the best things about you.” 

Bakugou looks up at you, tilts his head. 

After a moment, you realize. 

“About you, as in heroes in general!” you say hastily. You’re a liar. You were thinking about him, not All Might, not all heroes. 

A couple knocks at the door save you, and when you move to get up, Bakugou motions for you to stay. 

“I’ll get it,” he says. You sit there, beating yourself up over your slip-up, as Bakugou speaks to the people at the door. You greet them when they come in, watching out of the way as they quickly set the table and arrange the dishes you’d ordered. 

You hardly notice as they leave as quickly as they came, so dazzled by the food on display. 

Bakugou touches your back, and you startle. You look at him. 

“Come sit,” he tells you.

“Okay,” you say. 

The food is delicious, but the company’s even better.

You find yourself talking about all kinds of things with him. 

“Do you go hiking often?” you ask. “You looked pretty comfortable out there.” 

“I like outdoorsy shit,” Bakugou says. “Hiking’s fine. I like mountain climbing best.”

“Mountain climbing?” You tilt your head. “That’s pretty intense. It suits you! I have a friend who’s into bouldering and is trying to get me into it. I feel like that might be more my speed.”

“You scared of heights?” 

“I’m scared of falling!” You laugh. “But with your quirk, I guess you don’t have that worry.” 

“If you want to try bouldering, tell me,” he says. He brings his cup of tea to his lips, takes a sip. 

You blink at him. “Do you know how?”

“Started with it a couple years back and moved on to climbing. Being outside’s better,” Bakugou says. 

“Okay! I’ll take you up on it,” you say, trying to hide the little thrill that runs through you at the thought that he wants to spend time with you, even when the both of you return home. 

You reach for the teapot to refill his cup, and your hand brushes against his, resting on the table. He doesn’t pull away. His eyes lift to meet yours, deep carmine in the low light. 

Before you know it, it’s true night. It’s not so late according to the time, but it feels like it is because the both of you were up early and had a physically taxing day. 

Mid-sentence, you cover your mouth as you yawn, little pinpricks of tears springing to your eyes. 

“Sorry,” you say, just as you catch Bakugou hiding a reciprocal yawn. It’s cute. You don’t think he’d appreciate you saying so, so you hide your smile. 

“You wanna sleep here?” you ask. “I’m sleeping in the bed nearest the windows. The one next to the wall was Rie’s, but they changed the sheets and everything yesterday. It hasn’t been touched since.” 

Bakugou looks at you for a moment. “You good with that?”

“If you are,” you tell him. “And if you’re okay with using the complimentary toothbrush they give out.” 

He snorts. “Thanks.” 

Getting ready for bed at the same time as him feeds into thoughts you refuse to acknowledge. He tells you to get ready first as he takes care of cleaning up the food and dishes to be taken away by the staff. You try to help, but he gives you this stubborn look you’re too tired to fight. You thank him instead and retreat into the bathroom. 

It’s only when you’re both in bed, the lights out, that those thoughts return, make themselves manifest.

The awkwardness you used to feel around him, the self-consciousness about your history, the pressure to keep him at a distance—it’s all faded so much into the background. Instead, your body hums with nerves, with a different kind of awareness. 

He looked at you a lot, today. Whenever you looked at him, he was already looking back. He made himself known with little touches here and there: on your back, your arms, your hands. You thought you’d imagined it yesterday, this morning, but—no. 

You’ve had partners before, both short and long term. That dance in the beginning, that will we, won’t we—you think you’re not imagining it here, with him. 

“Goodnight Bakugou,” you say quietly, in case he’s already asleep. You don’t trust yourself to look at him to check. Seeing him across sheets, soft and undone… you don’t trust yourself to look at him and keep these bubbling feelings inside.

“Night,” Bakugou says. 

When you wake, the sun isn’t even up. 

The room is dark, though it’s in hazy shadows that speak of a coming dawn. 

Blinking sleep away, you rub at your face and turn onto your side to reach for your phone. 

You freeze mid-motion. 

You’d forgotten Bakugou, sleeping in the other bed, still deep asleep. His face is restful, uncreased by a frown, though you can’t make out much more in the gloom. 

You look at him for a long moment. 

Quietly, you grab your phone off the bedside table and get out of bed, heading into the bathroom. You wash your face and brush your teeth before undressing and donning an onsen robe. You pad over to the sliding glass door leading out to the deck and open-air bath and step out. 

A simple shower sits in the corner of the deck, intended for rinsing off before bathing. You stand under the spray, scrubbing yourself down.

You want to use the open-air bath one more time before checking out. You want some time to yourself before you have to face the morning. Soaking in the steamy water, watching the sunrise—it’ll be a nice ending to this vacation. 

Suitably clean, you slip out of the robe, hanging it on a hook on the wall, before sliding into the bath.

It’s so hot it makes you hiss as you sink down, the steam visibly wafting in the air. The seats within the bath are at a perfect height for you to sit sideways in one of the corners, arms folded across the ledge. You rest your head on them.

The sky’s begun to change to a blue, with pink and orange streaking the horizon. You stare out into the distance, blinking slowly. 

You don’t regret spending so much time with Bakugou this weekend. You had a lot of fun, and when the alternative would’ve been a rather lonely couple of days, you’re grateful. You’re happy that you’ve grown closer, when it seemed an impossibility a couple days ago.

Knowing him as you do now—you like him so much. You like what you’ve learned about him, up close.

You feel guilty keeping your feelings from him; you want to tell him, but you’re not sure. You're teetering on the edge—are you reading too deeply into his words, his actions? Does he return your feelings? Or is his interest fleeting, just because of circumstance, likely to fade once you leave this ryokan behind? You don’t know. 

The sound of the sliding door opening jostles you from your thoughts. 

You turn just your head, keeping your front pressed against the side of the bath. 

Bakugou stands there, looking rumpled but forcibly alert. Like a tiger, just woken up from sleep, not sure what’d woken it up. Little water marks stain the front of his shirt, and the edges of his hair are damp, as if he’d washed his face. 

You stifle the urge to smile. 

“Good morning,” you say softly.

He grunts out what could be a greeting back.

“Did I wake you up?” you ask. “I’m sorry if I did.” 

“Y’didn’t,” he says. “I usually get up early.” 

Bakugou looks out over the pond, out at the trees on the far side, before looking at you.

“S’early for a bath,” he says. 

“Wanted to use it one last time while watching the sun rise.” You push your hair away from your face, where it’d begun to cling because of the steam. His gaze tracks your movement, the sluicing of water down your forearm. The bare line of your back. 

His eyes snap back up to yours, but it’s too late. You caught it. 

You watch him for a long moment. Take a deep breath. 

“Wanna join me?” 

He studies you. The longer the silence stretches, the more your nerves fray. 

You swallow, open your mouth to take it back. Maybe you’d imagined the look in his eyes. 

“You sure?” he asks. His voice is raspy with the remnants of sleep, deep with something else. His words are heavy with things unspoken, and you shiver despite the warmth of the water. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

He turns to the shower you’d just used, and you look away as he grips the back of his shirt, pulls it over his head, revealing a tantalizing expanse of skin. The broad breadth of his shoulders, the hard lines of muscle leading to his waist. Old scars, telling of the fights he’s survived, the fights he’s won. 

You whip your head forward, looking away, feeling impossibly warmer than you already are in this bath, steam rising around you. 

There’s the sound of clothes hitting the deck and the water turning on. 

You keep your eyes on the horizon, the peek of the sun over that line, even as you hear the shower shut off and his footsteps approach, even as the water level rises as he climbs in. 

Heart thumping fast against your chest, body tense with anticipation, it takes all your will not to startle when his hand touches your bare back. You shift to face him, and he’s close, so close. Like yesterday, and the day before, but today maybe he’s finally within your reach. 

“This what you wanted?” His hand slides down your skin, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You reach a hand up to his face.

He stops you, grip encircling your wrist—a familiar motion. 

“Y’gotta say it,” Bakugou tells you. His eyes are molten red with the sunrise, heated. Your breath catches. 

“Yes, yes, wanted this,” you say, trying to move closer, and he huffs out a laugh, the glimmer of a satisfied smile on his lips. 

You look up at him, soft, putty in his hands. He’s so handsome like this. 

Unable to resist, you lean up to kiss his cheek. 

He turns his head as you retreat and kisses you. 

Your eyes flutter shut as your head tilts to press against his lips better. He’s warm. You only realize he’s let go of your wrist because your hands come up to brace against his chest, unfettered. His hand on your back grips your waist, and his free hand comes to rest on the other side. They’re searing against your skin. 

When he touches his tongue against your lips, a request, you open up for him, a door thrown all the way open. He kisses you deep, plundering, tongue sliding against yours slowly, sensually. The sound your mouths make when you part for air is filthy. 

You want to be closer, ever closer. When your chest touches his, nipples hard against his skin, he makes a rough noise against you that has you humming in pleasure. 

Fuck it, you think, and you shift so that you’re straddling his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, skin to skin now. 

He’s half hard from just a few kisses, pressed against your lower belly. There’s an answering pulse in your sex that has you arching against him, craving friction. His hands slide to your ass, fingers dimpling into your skin, pulling you to him.

His mouth travels down your neck, biting gently here and there, sucking. His hand cups up to cup your chest, thumbs across your nipple. You gasp. 

He kisses you again, drinking you in like he can’t get enough. You’re dizzy with want. 

When you pull back for air, he’s breathing hard, and so are you. His eyes are hazy with arousal. You feel like you’ve been taken apart. 

“We movin’ too fast?” he asks.

You blink at him, mind fuzzy, slow to process. “Hm?”

Bakugou lifts a hand, cups the nape of your neck. His thumb glides against your skin, distracting. All you want is for him to keep kissing you. 

“Said we needa slow down.” 

“No,” you say immediately, and he snorts, lips curving. 

He disentangles himself from you, and the sudden space between you leaves you feeling bereft, adrift. 

He stands, completely unselfconscious despite his nudity and visible arousal, and steps out of the water. You watch as he walks over to where you’ve hung your robe and returns to the edge of the bath. He holds the robe open.

“Let’s go inside,” he says. “You've been in there too long.”

Leaving the bath feels a little like Bakugou’s broken a spell that’d fallen over the two of you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen next, and it makes you a little anxious. 

But he’s right. You’ve been in here too long, and you’re a little lightheaded from the heat. 

With a quiet thanks, you step into the robe, the cloth immediately clinging to your damp skin. As you tie it closed, he rubs his lower half down with his discarded shirt and picks up the pants he wore to sleep, puts them on. Then he opens the sliding door, nudges you inside. He heads to the kitchen area. 

You stand there for a second, unsure of what to do with yourself. You wish you knew what he’s thinking. 

“Hey, c’mere. Drink this.” Bakugou returns with a water bottle in his hand. He gives it to you, then corrals you towards one of the beds. “Sit down, you’re swaying like you’re a damn penguin.”

This startles a laugh out of you, and you shake your head, twisting the water bottle open and taking a drink. Bakugou sits next to you, close, legs pressing against each other. He’s still shirtless, a couple drops of water still dripping down his torso here and there. 

You like him so much. You inhale. 

“I’ve liked you since we were teenagers, though I don’t think you noticed,” you say, avoiding his eyes. Your heart is racing. “I don’t think we’re moving too fast if you don’t.” 

Bakugou snorts. “I noticed.”

You turn your head sharply to stare at him for a moment. He gives you one of his mean little grins that has you feeling warm, self-conscious, because it makes him so boyishly handsome.

Groaning, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you just… find someone with a memory quirk and erase all your memories of me back then? Thanks. It was a super embarrassing time of my life.”

Bakugou takes your wrists in his hands, pushing them down so he can see you unhindered. He leans forward and kisses the side of your head, your ear. 

“You saying it was embarrassing, liking me?” he rumbles against you. You shiver. 

“The way I went about liking you was,” you mutter. He snickers, and you shove him. 

After a halting moment, you ask, “Umm… So I thought you barely knew I existed, before this weekend. What…?”

You’re not sure how to finish your sentence. And you hate yourself a little for bringing this up, for potentially killing the mood. But you have to know if this is just a casual thing or—or something else. You don’t know what you’ll do with the answer, but. You want to know. 

He looks at you for a long moment, considering. 

“Only thing I cared about while I was at UA was being the best,” he says, at last. “After the war—I knew I needed to be stronger, to be strong enough. So much shit needed to change. Didn’t have much use for dating.”

“Right,” you say quietly. The years after the war were hard for Japan. So many systems were dismantled and built anew. Some older heroes lost their faith in what they did; the younger ones struggled with the trauma of what they’d lived through. Everyone, hero or not, had to rebuild their lives.

You understand. And Bakugou’s always been so driven and focused with anything he puts his mind to. He’s been instrumental in shaping what this new generation of heroes looks like. 

Bakugou reaches over, puts a hand on your thigh. Even over the cloth of the robe, his warmth reaches your skin. He doesn’t do anything more, just rests it there. Distracting. Sending goosebumps across your body. 

“You were always around, these past couple of years. Hangin’ around Soy Sauce Face and his girl. But you were always fucking running away. What the hell was up with that?” 

Bakugou scowls at you, squeezing your leg a little, and your mind scatters. It takes a moment to gather yourself and process what he’s asked. When you do, you frown. 

“What do you mean, I was always running away?”

“You tell me,” Bakugou growls. 

When you continue to look mystified, Bakugou’s scowl deepens. 

“Whenever I tried to talk to you, you’d scurry away, like a little mouse,” he says. “Didn’t even get to say shit before you’d be gone, hiding behind Tape Head or his girl.” 

As he talks, puzzle pieces begin to fit together in your head. 

When you’d see him at get-togethers, you’d always worried about how you’d come across to him—that he’d be able to tell your crush on him had endured, that it’d become more. So maybe you overcompensated a little. You tried to play it cool, super disinterested in prolonged engagement, and when you could… maybe you did avoid him a little. 

You didn’t realize he’d notice, let alone be bothered by it. 

“Oh,” is all you can manage. 

He narrows his eyes at you. “S’only here that I’ve been able to really talk to you. No Soy Sauce Face. No Soy Sauce girlfriend.”

“Sorry,” you tell him, meek. “I… I’m gonna die, this is so embarrassing.”

You look up at the ceiling to avoid looking at him. “I was trying to keep my distance because this dumb crush on you never went away. And you were obviously not interested, so I wanted to be respectful. Sorry I made things weird instead.”

Realization hits you, and you turn your head to him. “Wait, so—you are… interested…?” 

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “You think I was going to all these dumb hangouts this past year just because I wanted to be there?” 

Oh. Oh. 

You’re not sure what he sees in your face, but he barks out a laugh. He reaches over and takes your face in his hand, squeezes so that your lips and cheeks puff out. 

“For someone so smart, you can be a dumbass, huh,” he says, and his tone is so warm that you don’t even mind. 

You wriggle out of his grip. He lets you, watching you. Your hand drops to your robe’s tie. You undo it. It loosens on your frame. 

You take one of his hands and slip it under the robe, sliding his hand across your skin. The motion bares you to his eyes as the robe falls open. 

“Not moving too fast,” you tell him, and his gaze is so heated, you feel like you’re burning up. 

Bakugou leans forward and kisses you hard. You open up for him immediately, letting his tongue dart in and tangle with yours. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you press closer. He shifts so that his body covers yours, and he slowly tilts you back so that you’re lying across the bed.

You love the feeling of his weight on you. You arch up to put pressure against his cock, steadily hardening, and he grunts against your mouth, grinding down onto you in an instinctive motion. 

When you part for breath, he mouths at your neck, biting gently. You squirm, can only clutch at his back. 

“Bakugou,” you say, and his name’s half air.

“S’Katsuki,” he tells you as his lips travel down your body. He takes your nipple in his mouth and sucks. His hand comes up to tease the other one, squeezing, groping your chest. Your legs tighten around his waist, grinding against his bare abdomen, seeking friction to soothe the heat in your sex. 

Bakugou pins you, stopping any motion. He lifts himself up a little, and you whine. 

His gaze drops to your lips, kiss-swollen. His eyes warm, go half-lidded. “Y’hear me? Say it.” 

“Hmm?” You’re so far gone, turned on out of your mind. You just want him inside of you.

You try to press against him, but he pins you with hands on your hips. 

“It’s Katsuki to you,” he says, and you shiver. You put your hands on either side of his face. 

“Katsuki, please,” you say, and you only get a glimpse of his curved lips before they’re on yours again, swallowing you up. 

He gets you fully out of the robe, tosses it aside somewhere. When you wordlessly push at his pants, he takes those off too. 

Skin to skin friction has the both of you so worked up. He’s so hard against you. You want to touch him, so you do, hand wrapping around him and stroking the silky skin. 

He groans, and you’re on fire. 

But Bakugou grips your wrist, stops your caress. He repositions your arms so that your hands are up by your head. 

“You keep them there,” he tells you as he moves down your body, and before you can ask why, his fingers are grazing over your clit, thumbing at it. 

You arch, gasping, and he teases his fingers over your slit, feels how wet you are. He massages slow circles into your clit, and you’re clenching inside, wanting. 

“Please,” you say, throwing an arm over your face, overwhelmed. Bakugou huffs a laugh against your abdomen, pressing a kiss there. He pushes a finger inside you, stretching you. He’s gentle, going slow and paying close attention to your reactions to see if anything hurts.

But he’s going too slow—it’s not enough. 

“More,” you tell him. “It’s okay, more.” 

So he adds another finger, and your pussy flutters around him as he begins to loosen you up, pumping them in and out, curling them when they’re inside you. You’re so slick that your sex makes a filthy wet sound as he plays with you. 

“Fuck,” you say, mind splitting apart. You kiss him, messy, and he just feels so good. It’s such a pleasurable stretch when he adds a third finger. 

When he takes all of his fingers out, your body chases him, arching. You’re so close. 

“Katsuki,” you begin, just as he puts his mouth on your clit and sucks. 

Your entire body shudders, and he licks up and down your slit, tongue dipping inside you. Your hips begin to undulate as you begin to peak, your hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 

You come as his tongue flicks at your clit, gasping your pleasure. 

He wraps a big hand around your waist as you ride it out, mouthing at your inner thighs. 

You’re breathing hard, little shivers going through you in tiny aftershocks. Bakugou comes back up the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You immediately turn your head for a kiss, tasting yourself on him. 

His cock’s still so hard, pressed against your leg, your ass. You’re not done yet. You want to make him feel good. 

You reach down and take him in hand. It’s so big with how turned on he is, just from giving you pleasure, and it twitches in your grasp. His hips jerk, searching for relief. 

“Want you inside,” you tell him, and his eyes are searing. 

You shift so that you’re on top of him, pussy pressed against the line of his dick. He’s throbbing against you, and it’s a little mean, but you grind your hips down on him, moving so that he slides up and down your slit. The tip of his cock slips over your entrance over and over again, pushing in a little but not quite. 

Bakugou grips your waist with two hands to halt you. You bite your lip to hide a smile. 

“Brat,” he growls, dangerous.

In answer, you take him in your hand and position the tip of his dick right at your entrance and slowly sink down. 

His eyes drop to watch his cock enter you, inch by inch, and his grip on you is nearly bruising, fingers indenting your skin. You’re still sensitive, clenching around him, but you’re taking him so easy because you’re still wet from your orgasm. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Bakugou says, and he says it so low, guttural, that you tighten around him. The look on his face is working you up; it’s an intoxicating expression of desire.

You begin moving, lifting up and down on his cock. His eyes are cloudy with want as he watches you on top of him, you with your tits bouncing. He reaches up to cup your breast. Leaning forward, you kiss him, and his answer is hungry as your pace quickens. You pant into his mouth. 

But you think maybe you’re not going fast enough for him. He’s careful with you, but looking down at him, you can tell he’s holding back. 

So you stop, lift up off of him, let him slip out of you.

“Whatever you want,” you tell him, and his next movements are so fast.

Bakugou lifts you up off of him and presses you back into the bed. He takes your legs, spreads them so they’re straddling his hips, and he’s back inside of you with a hard thrust. Gripping your waist, he chases his pleasure, slamming his cock in you over and over again.

The sudden intense friction against your walls has you climbing that peak again, and you clutch at his back. As if sensing it, he slips a hand down between the two of you to massage circles into your clit. He catches your moan in his mouth. 

“Katsuki,” you say, just as you begin convulsing around him, feverish, nails digging into his skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so—” he growls as you continue to tense up around him, fluttering, and then he’s following you over. You can feel his warmth as he comes in you, his big body coming to rest against yours. He kisses the side of your head, your forehead, your mouth. You smile against him. 

Sleep comes for the both of you, for a while. You’re not sure if it’s been minutes or hours when you come to, but when you do, soft morning light floods the room. 

You jolt up in a panic. Looking around, you search for your phone. You move to get out of bed when you don’t immediately find it. 

“Where the hell’re you going,” Bakugou grumbles. He throws an arm over your waist and mouths at your hip.

“We gotta get packing, Katsuki,” you say, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Or at least I do! I’m checking out this morning.”

“Stay another day,” he says, voice a little growly and his eyes closed, and you stop. “I know you’ve got a shit ton of leave saved up.”

“And how would you know that?” you ask. You put your hand on his head, thread it through his blond hair.

“Tape Head said you haven’t taken off in forever,” he says. 

Bakugou opens his eyes, looks up at you. He presses a kiss against your skin. Bites you gently. 

“Stay with me,” he tells you.

And what else can you say but yes?

Final Notes: And we're done! Thank you all of you for following this little labor of love to its conclusion. 💖 Bakugou's birthday fic's finally completed, over a month after the fact.

A couple things! Some of you caught on to the fact that Bakugou being at this onsen ryokan at the same time as reader was a little fishy—you were so right. Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari gifted Bakugou the reservation for his birthday, knowing that you would be there with Rie, knowing Bakugou's been interested in you for a while now. (Bakugou knew something was up immediately after he saw you at the ryokan.) Rie having to leave was purely coincidental, but it turned out to be a happy coincidence!

(I love you guys; the comments you left last chapter and the conversation you guys were having with each other made me laugh.)

The location for the hike is based off Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park, specifically the Mount Amagi hikes, with a lot of creative liberty taken.

I think the only Japanese used here was a mention of onigiri, which are rice balls with a seaweed wrapping with various fillings inside.

Once again, thank you for reading! All your likes, reblogs, comments—I appreciate them so much. Hugs and kisses, and until next time! ✨💞

Tag List: @blairbellerose @yeehawgiddyup13 @reads-stuff-quietly @surprisemodafakas @scarlett-witchh @queenpiranhadon @sleepyyhabii @j-pendragonx @bakunianadecorazon @dreamingoftomorrow @nonamebbsblog @gina239 @seabass17 @dynakats @I-bozo-I @humblechumbble @universal-s1ut @sweetblueworm @kukikoooo @liluvtojineteyam @nemisimp @bkgnotsuma @poemzcheng @farrowroyale @simp-plague @dreamingoftomorrow @mystic60 @k0z3me @buzzyandbadatmath @anicaaa67 @icedemon1314 @lovra974 @andyetshewrote @frostbez @mo0nforme @mrsjna @pinkpurpledreams

[amirasainz]

What about Norris reader (17) and Oldie and Kimi Antonelli have a crush on her. Lando, ever the overprotectiv brother, doesn't like this and the other drivers use it to their advantage, because they find this really funny. Reader is just clueless and thinks the boys are really sweet to her♥️♥️

Wait, why do I ship these three??

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo, babygirl 💕

Two for one

The bustling energy of the Mexican Grand Prix electrified the air as Yn Norris wandered around the paddock, wide-eyed with excitement. Her older brother, Lando, had arranged for her to come along this weekend, and she was thrilled to be there. Being just seventeen, this was one of her first big Grand Prix weekends on her own, without her parents or siblings (except Lando) and she couldn't wait to soak it all in.

As she explored the paddock, she suddenly heard her name being called. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Kimi and Ollie, both of whom had driven in Free Practice 1 that day.

"Yn! Fancy running into you here," Ollie greeted with a wide grin.

Kimi smirked, giving her a casual wave. "So, what do you think of Mexico so far?"

Yn smiled brightly. "It’s incredible! I’m so happy Lando invited me."

"Oh, he invited you, did he?" Kimi asked with a sly grin, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting Lando to pop out of nowhere.

Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, but he’s already being overprotective. He thinks I'm going to, like, get lost or something. I just wanted to go look around by myself, but he practically assigned me a bodyguard."

Kimi and Ollie exchanged amused looks. "Well, we’re here now. So, if you need someone to show you around or keep you company, I think we can handle that," Ollie offered.

"Yeah, you’re in good hands, Yn," Kimi added with a wink.

---

A little later, Lando noticed Yn with Kimi and Ollie, and immediately, he felt his older brother senses tingling. He walked up to them with an exaggeratedly casual stride, hands stuffed in his pockets but eyes locked onto Kimi and Ollie.

"Hey, Yn," Lando greeted her, then quickly turned to Kimi and Ollie. "What are you guys up to?"

Ollie raised his hands defensively. "Just chatting with your sister, mate. Nothing serious."

Kimi chimed in, smirking slightly. "Yeah, just giving her some company. It can’t be fun to wander around here alone."

Lando narrowed his eyes. "Well, she’s not alone. I’m here."

Yn rolled her eyes. "Lando, I’m fine. You don’t have to act like I’m five."

"Yeah, Lando, she’s fine," Ollie teased, nudging Lando’s arm. "Besides, it's not like Kimi and I are troublemakers."

Max, who had been watching from nearby, wandered over, grinning as he picked up on the situation. "Oh, looks like little Norris has some admirers."

"Yeah, careful, Lando," Checo joined in, laughing as he walked by. "You know, they say these drivers are charmers. Better keep a close eye on her, or she might run off with them to Yucatan."

Lando scowled, crossing his arms. "That’s not funny, guys."

Ollie looked at Yn, feigning a wistful expression. "Yucatan, huh? That could be fun."

Yn rolled her eyes again, laughing. "Ignore them, Ollie. You’re all acting like children."

Kimi leaned closer to her. "Maybe. But you know, Yucatan does sound like a pretty great idea."

Lando stepped in between them, giving Kimi a warning look. "Don’t even think about it, Antonelli."

Kimi laughed, but there was a hint of nervousness. As much as he enjoyed teasing Lando, he could feel Lando’s big-brother protectiveness radiating off him in waves. Still, he couldn’t resist pushing a little.

"Relax, Lando," Kimi said, holding up his hands. "We’re just here to make sure Yn has a good time."

"Under my supervision," Lando shot back, narrowing his eyes. He put an arm around Yn’s shoulder. "You’re staying close to me for the rest of the weekend."

Yn groaned, but Lando’s resolve didn’t waver.

---

The next day, Lando was more determined than ever to keep an eye on his sister. Every time Kimi or Ollie got close, he’d swoop in, leading her away or blocking their paths.

Eventually, Pierre caught onto the whole situation and couldn’t resist chiming in. "You know, Lando, if you keep this up, you’re going to scare away all her potential boyfriends."

Lando shook his head, exasperated. "That’s the plan, Pierre."

Carlos joined the fun, laughing. "Be careful, Lando. Vegas is just around the corner. Blink, and she might end up running off with Kimi or Ollie. Maybe even both."

Ollie, who had overheard, grinned, raising his eyebrows at Yn. "What do you think, Yn? Should we book tickets?"

Yn chuckled. "Oh, please. Lando would probably have a heart attack before we even left the airport."

Lando glared at them. "I’m serious. You two better not get any ideas, you stinky whankers."

Kimi shrugged, but his smirk didn’t fade. "Relax, mate. We’re just keeping her company."

Charles joined the group, looking thoroughly entertained. "I can’t wait for Vegas now. If this is how Lando is in Mexico, Vegas will be legendary. Maybe we’ll all get invited to Yn’s wedding."

Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You all are impossible."

---

As the weekend progressed, Kimi and Ollie kept finding small ways to get Yn’s attention. They’d save her a seat, bring her snacks, and keep her laughing with stories and jokes. Each time, Lando was there, watching like a hawk.

At one point, Yn turned to him, exasperated. "Lando, seriously. I’m just hanging out with friends. Can you please relax?"

"I am relaxed," Lando replied, not convincing anyone.

Yn shot him an annoyed look. "You’re practically breathing down my neck."

Ollie leaned in, whispering, "Told you he’s overprotective."

Kimi chuckled. "You’re handling it well, though."

Yn laughed, shaking her head. "I think it’s actually you two who are nervous around him."

Both Ollie and Kimi exchanged guilty looks, though they quickly covered it with their usual confident smiles. But every time Lando was around, they seemed to straighten up a little, wary of his watchful eyes.

---

On race day, things hit a peak. Kimi and Ollie had managed to catch Yn alone, and they were chatting animatedly about everything from their goals in racing to funny stories from the paddock. Yn was laughing, completely unaware of the fact that both boys were subtly vying for her attention.

But it didn’t take long for Lando to find them, and he wasted no time inserting himself into the conversation.

"Hey, Yn, you ready to come to the garage?" he asked pointedly.

Yn glanced at Kimi and Ollie apologetically. "Duty calls, I guess."

Ollie gave Lando a pleading look. "Come on, Lando. Let her hang out with us for a bit longer."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Why, so you two can keep flirting with her?"

Kimi flushed, stammering, "W-We weren’t—"

Yn stared at him in surprise. "Flirting? Seriously, Lando? We’re just friends."

"Exactly," Lando said, taking her by the arm. "And that’s all you’re going to be."

Max and Charles, who had been watching the entire exchange, burst into laughter. Charles clapped Lando on the back. "Relax, Lando. You’re acting like you’re her father."

Max nodded, grinning. "Good luck keeping her under control in Vegas. Don’t be surprised if she elopes with one of them. Or both."

Lando scowled, his grip on Yn’s arm tightening slightly. "Not happening. Not on my watch."

Yn sighed, throwing Kimi and Ollie a helpless look as she was guided away. They exchanged amused, slightly nervous glances, but it was clear that they weren’t about to give up. She blew them a kiss, which both Kimi and Ollie pretended to catch. Ollie put his "kiss" to his heart while Kimi put his on his cheek.

As Yn and Lando walked off, she glanced up at her brother, shaking her head. "You know, if you keep acting like this, no one’s ever going to want to date me."

"That’s the point," Lando muttered under his breath.

Yn laughed. "You’re ridiculous."

"And I’m your older brother," he replied, smirking. "Get used to it."

Behind them, Kimi and Ollie shared a look, nodding in silent agreement. They’d have to work harder to get Yn’s attention without incurring the wrath of overprotective older brother Lando. But they weren’t about to give up. After all, Vegas was coming up soon, and as much as Lando hated to hear it, the weekend held endless possibilities.

[ghouljams]

Ok, not my kink, don't write this sort of thing ever, but!

I had a dream and the only way to get it out of my head is to write it down so this idea is free to whatever nasty pervert(loving) wants it because I know some of y'all are into this.

(massive tw for faux-cest)

Going to a bar and having some guy hit on you, he's not taking a hint and it's getting a little scary. You lock eyes with the oldest guy in the bar and in a panic you tell the guy that your dad is here, before rushing over to him. Which is a mistake because the closer you get the more you think, God this guy can't be 50, but there's just enough salt in his dark beard that you think maybe, maybe, he'll be sympathetic enough to understand you just needed an out.

You stop in front of him in a rush, all the air leaving your body as he eyes you, up and down, with all the appreciation that shouldn't come from a man playing your father. And it all comes out in a rush:

"I'm so sorry, this is so weird, that guy over there won't leave me alone and I said you were my dad, because I panicked and I just-" You squeeze your eyes shut to get your mouth to stop running, and he's just staring at you when you open them again, "-can you please pretend to be my dad?"

AND GOD if that doesn't turn Price on. Some sick twisted switch in the back of his head turning over as he smiles and tells you "of course" before looping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. His nose nudging your hair to scent your shampoo and his big hand spreading its fingers wide over your stomach, dipping under the waistband of your skirt. He turns you so you're hugging him when the guy comes over to shoot his shot again, wedges his thick thigh between yours and forces your hips forward.

He doesn't want any boys "sniffing around his little girl" you learn when he shoos the guy off.

He doesn't let you go even after driving your annoyance away. He all but drags you towards a dark table in the back, insistent that you let him "keep you safe" the rest of the night. You feel like you've jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. Going from some college dick to a man who's calling you "sweetheart" and "darling" and introducing you as his "daughter" to his leering friends even as his hand is creeping under your skirt.

[yuuchama]

Sometime during the VDC training camp, when everyone on team Night Raven is sleeping over at Ramshackle Dorm:

Ramshackle Dorm has no shortage of spare rooms, but their condition is another story. You've managed to get enough of them decently clean. They're not as nice as your room, which has had far more time invested in it and is well lived in, but your groupmates should be able to spend a few days at the dorm without issue and are more than free to tidy up rooms as they please.

Yet on one of the first nights, you hear the door of your room creak open. It's dark and you can't see the intruder, though you know it's not one of the ghosts. The approaching footsteps aren't as heavy as Grim's, even after he's cleared out the entire fridge in one sitting. You're also pretty confident Grim is fast asleep beside you.

"Hello?" You groggily lift your head and call out to the intruder. If it's anything malicious, you hope the ensuing scuffle will cause enough noise to wake everyone else up.

A weight pushes the edge of your mattress down and there's a gentle touch at your shoulder. "Prefect, do you mind if I spend the rest of the night here?"

"Jamil?"

You almost don't recognize him in the dark with his hair down. You feel around for a bedside light. Grim groans in his sleep when it clicks on and turns over, shielding his eyes with tiny arms.

Jamil looks exhausted. "Please, I'd really appreciate if you could let me sleep here tonight."

"Yeah, sure. Of course." Maybe it's the sleep addling your brain or your trust in Jamil. You see no reason to turn down his request and didn't question why he was coming to you instead of Kalim. You nudge Grim over to make room for one more on the bed.

The vice housewarden does his best to fit in the cramped sleeping conditions, assuring "I'll pay you back for this. Thank you."

He's turned towards the wall, back touching your side so that he doesn't fall. You wait to make sure he's fully secure in bed before turning off the light. In the calm that follows, you notice he's almost imperceptibly shaking. Sure, the dorm is cold, but not that cold. Especially with three in one bed.

"Jamil, are you okay?" The longer you spend awake, the more concerning this whole situation feels.

"I'm fine. Goodnight, Prefect." Jamil already has his eyes shut and seems adamant about not discussing things further.

"Okay... Goodnight."

You lay down and silence settles over the room once more. It's really warm between your two friends. Sleep is quick to catch up to you, you find yourself nodding off within minutes of your head touching the pillow.

Before you fully drift off, Jamil turns to face you. His hair drapes over the side of the bed and he places a hand on your pillow, lightly grazing your cheek.

"Thanks again," he whispers. "I feel a lot better with you here. Your room doesn't have bugs on the wall."

[liz-on-leash]

you are jiheon brother (or father) and you love to sniff her used panties, one day she catches you in the act so you have no more options than stuffing them into her mouth and r*pe her <3

Jiheon × Male Reader

Rape, Incest, Brother-Sister

1,541 words

Don't mind the random drop. I was cleaning my draft and thought I should finish this one and post it. Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

You stuff Jiheon's mouth with her own dirty panties, the acrid stench of your arousal mixed with her fear and utter disgust. The salty tang of sweat mingles with a faint musk, the heady scent of Jiheon's nether regions flooding your senses. You breathe deeply, savoring the exquisite aroma, feeling yourself swell inside your jeans.

Jiheon gags and sputters around the fabric gag, her pretty face contorted in revulsion. Tears roll down her cheeks as she tries in vain to spit out the revolting improvised gag. But you hold it firmly in place, twisting the crotch of the panties into a tight knot at the back of her head.

"Shh, it's okay, Jiheon-ah," you croon sickeningly, petting her hair. "Just hush now while oppa takes care of you."

She whimpers and shakes her head frantically, trying to jerk away from your touch. But she's too weak from the beating you just gave her. Jiheon slumps against the wall, her body quaking with quiet sobs, the gag muffling her cries.

You can't help but give her perky ass a firm smack, watching it jiggle delectably under her short denim shorts. The flimsy twill fabric does little to hide the round globes of her bottom, riding up to expose the creamy tops of her thighs. Your cock throbs at the tantalizing sight.

Cracking your knuckles, you grab Jiheon roughly by the hair and yank her head back. "Keep fighting me and it'll only get worse," you growl menacingly. "Be a good girl now, okay? No more struggling. Your big brother's gonna give you what you need."

She blinks up at you with wide, fear-stricken eyes, tears clinging to her thick lashes. A whimper escapes her gagged mouth at your words. But Jiheon goes limp, submitting herself to your depraved whims with a hopeless sob.

"That's better," you purr, releasing her hair. "Such an obedient little sister you are. I'm gonna fuck you so good now."

Turning her around, you brace Jiheon's chest against the wall, admiring the way her crop top rides up to expose the soft curve of her lower back. Your hand finds its way underneath the hem, caressing the warm skin. She shudders but doesn't resist, resigned to her fate.

You undo the top button of her shorts and slowly unzip them, letting the garment hang open on her slim hips. Your fingers hook into the waistband of her panties and peel them down in excruciating slowness. The fabric clings to her goosebump-covered thighs and you have to tug it past her knees before it finally flutters to the floor, leaving her lower half bare.

"Fuck, what a perfect pretty cunt," you groan, drinking in the sight of Jiheon's glistening pink folds. "I'm going to enjoy this, Jiheon-ah."

Your other hand fumbles with your jeans, urgently unbuttoning them and shoving them along with your boxers down around your thighs. Your throbbing erection springs free, slapping heavily against thigh. The swollen purple head already glistens with precum.

You step forward and grind your bare cock against Jiheon's plump asscheeks, groaning at the silky skin on skin contact. Your length slides between her thighs to nudge insistently at her dripping entrance.

"Get ready, baby," you hiss in her ear. "I'm going to split you open on my fat cock."

Jiheon just whimpers, pushing her face into the crook of her elbow. But you don't care about her pain or humiliation anymore. All you can focus on is the aching need pulsing in your engorged shaft, the primal urge to claim your sister as your own.

You bunch her hips forward, spreading her asscheeks wide open with your thumbs. Lining the broad tip of your cock up with her fluttering labia, you begin to push inside with agonizing slowness. The engorged head stretches her open, forging a path through her clenching walls.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight!" you groan rapturously, fighting the urge to slam balls-deep into her at once. You want to prolong this blissful torture, to make her feel every excruciating inch of your length dragging inside her.

Inch by torturous inch you work your being cock into Jiheon's snug passage, forcing her open to accommodate your girth. She begins to squirm and buck against the invasion, a muffled scream tearing up her throat. But you just slap her ass hard, jolting her forward and driving your cock in deeper.

Finally you bottom out, your pelvis smushing against the backs of her thighs. Jiheon jerks and writhes, trying to escape the thick shaft impaling her. But you just wrap your arms around her from behind, pinning her tight against your chest in an inescapable hold.

"C'mon sis, you feel that?" you groan in her ear, grinding your hips in a filthy circle. "You feel your oppa’s cock splitting your cunt wide open? God I knew you'd feel amazing on my dick..."

Jiheon sobs brokenly, shaking her head and trying to cover her face. Her tight sheath clamps down rhythmically around your length as if trying to buck you out. But you just laugh and start to move, nibbling and sucking on the side of her neck. You hike her leg up high on your hip, tilting her pelvis back to alter the angle of penetration.

You set a brutal pace, jackhammering into Jiheon's upturned pussy with animalistic grunts. The sounds of flesh smacking against flesh echoes obscenely through the room, mingling with your sister's stifled cries. Her pert breasts bounce wildly against the wall with every rough thrust, the flimsy triangles of her bra straining to contain them.

"Take all of it, take my cock like a slut," you snarl, punctuating your words with savage slaps to her ass. Her creamy cheeks jiggle like jello and bloom with red handprints. "Fuck, I'm gonna ruin this pussy, make you my perfect little cock sleeve. You're never gonna let anyone else inside you after I'm done, only I get to fill this cunt from now on!"

With that degrading declaration, you rise up on your toes, hauling Jiheon off the floor and bending her in half. You begin to rut into her wildly from behind, yanking her hips back to meet your savage thrusts. The head of your dick kisses the entrance to her womb with every plunge, the flared tip catching on some inner ridge inside her that makes her clench and spasm.

Jiheon's legs give out and she slumps forward into the wall but you hold her up easily, one arm wrapped around her narrow waist like a steel band. Your other hand whips up and grabs a fistful of her hair, wrenching her head back at a painful angle so you can rub your scruff over the delicate skin of her neck and shoulder.

"P-Pl- Please," she hiccups out between choking sobs, her voice muffled and garbled around her gag. "I c-can't... it's t-too m-much! I'm g-gonna- Ahhhngh!"

Her back arches sharply and she clamps down HARD around you, her inner muscles rippling and fluttering. You feel a flood of liquid heat gush out around your pistoning shaft and splash down your balls. The realization that you just made your sister piss herself in unwilling ecstasy sends you hurtling toward the edge.

"Fuck… cum for me Jiheon-ah!" you roar, slamming into her harder and faster. "Gonna pump you full of my cum and make this womb quicken with my baby! Nnngh your cunt is MINE now, only I get to fuck it, unnnfff!"

Your last word dissolves into an animalistic grunt as your cock jerks and swells inside her, the boiling pressure in your heavy balls finally erupting. You grind your pelvis flush against Jiheon's ass and hold her tight as you begin to unload spurt after spurt of thick cum directly into her spasming womb. It feels like your orgasm lasts an eternity, your cock flexing and pulsing with every wave of pleasure.

By the time you're spent, Jiheon is shaking and shuddering weakly in your bruising grip, completely limp and unresisting. Her entire body is slick with sweat and streaked with tears. A thin trickle of urine paints the inside of her thighs and puddles on the floor between her dangling feet.

You press sloppy kisses over the livid marks marring the back of her neck before carefully unwrapping her wrists and pulling the sodden crotch of her panties out of her mouth. Jiheon immediately begins to retch and cough, sucking in huge gulps of air.

"That's enough playtime for today, baby sister," you rasp, your voice raw with satisfaction. You carefully shift your softening cock out of her abused hole, watching with approval as a river of pearly cum follows in its wake to splatter obscenely down her trembling thighs.

"You got filled up real good. I think you're gonna get pregnant from this, huh? God that'd be something, my baby growing in your belly while you're still dripping with my cum..."

Jiheon sets up a pitiful wail at your words, her body beginning to shudder and quake with great, wracking sobs. But you just smile indulgently and gather her pliant form up in your arms, carrying her off to bed without a care in the world. It's time to pick up right where you left off.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC the Dog and the Death Wish

Written for: Flufftober, prompt 1. Lost Pet Meet Cute

"Cujo!"

Both Tim and the dog turn their heads in the direction of the voice at the same time. There's not a lot of people in the Robinson Park at five in the morning - that's why Tim is here, actually, because he wanted a walk but did not want to deal with people - so the dog’s owner is easily recognizable.

A boy with a disheveled mop of black hair, sixteen, maybe seventeen years old, in old jeans and an unzipped hoodie. He has a leash in one hand and a look of worry on his face as he approaches, not quite walking but not yet running towards them.

The dog gives him an excited bark and, finally, leaves Tim alone, darting back to the boy. Tim breathes out a sigh of relief. Not that he is afraid of dogs, but this one was big and loud, with no leash and very interested in his cup of coffee for some reason.

The boy catches his pet by its collar and turns to Tim, an apologetic smile on his face. In the foggy park, where the only sources of light are street lamps and the faint brink of dawn over the skyline, he looks a little otherworldly. But then, everything looks otherworldly at five in the morning.

"I'm so sorry," the boy starts, strapping the leash to the dog's collar, "He doesn't usually run off like that, I thought I'd be okay to let him play around for some time-"

"It's alright," Tim interrupts his ramble and smiles back. If it's a bit forced, then no one would notice in the dim lighting. Only the boy somehow does, tilting his head in a concerned manner.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine," Tim rushes to assure, hiding his free hand in his pocket and awkwardly moving his coffee cup in the air, "I guess humans are not the only ones who crave coffee in this hour."

The boy blinks, clearly taken aback. Then, his eyes shift to Tim's cup, and then he snaps his head to the dog, who is wagging its tail with an innocent look. Somehow, it looks much smaller now - Tim swears the dog was the size of a mastiff the first time he's seen it, but now it's barely bigger than a hound. Is this his sleep-deprived hallucinations kicking in?

"Cujo!" This time, the boy's voice sounds accusatory, "We talked about this! What did I tell you about stealing drinks that are not mine?"

The dog barks. Tim blinks. He is fairly sure dogs shouldn't be having coffee at all, but the boy seems entirely unconcerned on that matter.

"I can buy you a new coffee?" The boy offers, and Tim shakes his head, coming back from his thoughts.

"Um, no, thanks," he smiles again, and huffs a short laugh, "He didn't get to it, and, besides, it's a special order, they won't brew it for anyone who's not me."

The boy suddenly freezes, staring at Tim. And then, his lips slowly stretch in a grin.

He points to Tim's cup, "Is that Death Wish?"

Now, it's Tim's turn to freeze and stare.

"How'd you-" and a moment later, it hits him, and he points a finger to the boy, "You! The only other guy who orders it!"

The dog barks again, looking between them and happily nudging it's owner in the hip with its nose. The boy laughs softly and pats it on the head.

"Guilty as charged," he admits with a smirk and nods to the dog, "At least it makes sense why Cujo chose you out of all the people in the park."

"And not because I'm literally the only other person here," Tim rolls his eyes, even though he feels himself smiling as well.

"Oh, you're not," the boy waves him off, "The park is never empty, well, not for us," he adds a bit cryptically, and then gestures to the gates down the path without skipping a beat. "Anyway, I was planning on getting a coffee after the walk, but do you wanna go and give baristas a heart attack by coming in together?"

That's... not very nice. Tim thinks about it for a moment. Then, he shrugs and smiles.

"Sure," he takes a sip of his coffee, "I'm Tim, by the way."

"Danny," the boy introduces himself and nods to the dog, "And the mediocre boy is Cujo."

"Mediocre?"

"He's not a 'good boy' for running off, but he's not a 'bad boy' either, since he got me a Death Wish buddy. Hence, mediocre boy."

Tim hides a laugh as all three of them head to the gates, absently noticing how the first rays of the dawn are coloring the treetops in gold.

"Makes sense."

[kokokoula]

when it comes to you, tsukishima finds himself being protective of you without even trying.

he hears your worries about the same friend for maybe the hundredth time, about how they got mad at you for something incredibly harmless and for you being you. he rolls his eyes at your friend's overbearing insecurity and their lack of taste in people as he seemingly reads his book. he had suggested you find a better friend, but you insist they make you happy. he scoffs at that. he himself already makes you happy, why would you need someone else who can't even give you half the joy he does? he doesn't say that though, instead he insists in turn that he comes along with you the next time you two meet. he can already imagine yamaguchi surprised at him for volunteering to go to a social gathering.

"you won't scare them off?" you make him promise and as much as he wants to make them feel sorry for ever hurting you, he sighs and promises. on that day, he stands right behind you, keeping an eye out for every single interaction you have with your friend. you introduce kei, and his looming expression doesn't change. he sees their uncomfortable smile and avoiding of his gaze, and couldn't help but smirk. you nudge him with your elbow, and tsukishima ruffles your hair. "don't worry, pipsqueak." he says, keeping his voice low.

tsukishima isn't a fan of any sort of pda, but throughout the entire time, he makes sure to have some sort of physical contact with you. it could be an arm around your shoulders, or just rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. the last thing he wants is you feeling anxious about your friend, despite you assuring him you were perfectly ok. you know of his well intentions, and at the end of the day when your friend has left, you treat him to strawberry shortcake.

"what's this?" he asks as he digs his fork into the cake. you intertwine your fingers with his free hand.

"just for you being, well, you." you grin and he melts like he always do when you smile at him. he gives you the first bite.

"you're gonna be the death of me, love."

[yuvany]

# SPECIAL ACTS WITH ENHYPEN༝༚

Moments that feel extra special with bf enhypen •° ot7 enhypen x fmr . . 664 words ° fluff + est relationship + skinship && not proofread!! & Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 shows a new side that is different from before he met you. He warms up to people quite fast, but even then, his character differs compared to how he is with you in a relationship. Before meeting him, he was shy, his smile being awkwardly extended, but as you got closer, you realised how sweet and funny he was. Now, the relationship has grown more complete. Heeseung feels free with you, knowing you won't judge him for his likes and dislikes, and his flaws. Establishing that has resulted in the two of you watching his favourite kid's movie on repeat.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 plan the future together. Jay is dedicated when it comes to something serious like a romantic relationship. Sit together during breakfast or dinner to just talk. "Do you think we'll be together in the future, because I hope so." He confessed, and you undoubtedly answered, "of course," making his worries vanish. Will talk about how he envisions your future, moving in together, getting married, and traveling together to visit his home land. He likes getting the reassurance that you feel the same.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 Silence isn't always a bad thing. Sometimes, being too talkative or loud can be very draining, so being with you in comfortable silence means a lot to him. That way, he understands that he doesn't need to be his best all the time, but that he has the opportunity to be calm. Watching a movie that played in the background while you two held each other close on the sofa with Jake making small comments about the movie here and there. "That was stupid." He said when watching a horror movie, and a character investigated the suspicious noise. You giggled along, and returned to the film.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 Deep conversations that could go on for hours was something you signed up for when you accepted Sunghoon into your life. Be prepared that the movie night you two planned might become a session where the two of you discuss things that have disturbed you guys, or just something philosophical. Having times like this can sometimes feel more intimate than a hug or kiss to Sunghoon. "What is our purpose in the universe?" He's gonna spill everything he's been thinking about while zoning out recently.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 does skincare together with you. His skin is awsome, and naturally, he wants yours to reflect as much as his. You guys wear matching headbands, and matching pyjamas as you stood in the bathroom, sharing the single mirror above the faucet. "Let's do the face masks now!" Sunoo beams, the apples of his cheek rising as he holds up one packet in each hand. "Let me do yours first, babe.", you told him, your palm resting on his shoulder, guiding him to sit atop of the closed toilet seat. After you both were done, you watched some youtube videos together.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 Falling asleep in his arms always feels like you're being transported onto a cloud. You found yourself on his bed, legs entangled with his arms wrapped around you, your feet almost falling off the edge of the bed. Yet it was so immensely comforting. You sleepily watched the content on Jungwon's phone, the blue light making you yawn. "Are you tired, angel?" He asks, and you nod, nudging your head closer to him. You feel his arms and broad shoulders come closer, and eventually you fall asleep.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 likes reminiscing the past, and talking about your childhoods. Riki's past has certainly been eventful, and talking about it with someone special makes it all worth it. You scroll through your gallery to find some photos of younger you, and you show it to him. "That's a cute picture, babe." He says, and starts searching for some of himself. Eventually, Riki shows you a photo, and you question, "What's happening here?", with a giggle, and he realises that he showed you a video of him dancing with his sisters instead.

Layout credits to @flwrstqr

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY TWO: FREE USE w/ BILLY BUTCHER

When it comes to sex with William Butcher, it’s anytime, all the time, anywhere, and everywhere.

“Hike the top up f’me, will ya?” Billy’s voice suddenly booms from behind you, startling you enough for the apple you were slicing to fall from your grasp onto the kitchen floor.

You take a second to register his request, glancing over your shoulder at him, black sweats already pulled down to his shins and stiff cock nudging at the curve of your ass. You have no say in the matter, really, but either way, you’re more than happy to oblige, lifting the old shirt of Billy’s you’re wearing up to your navel so that he can pull those lacy little panties of yours to the side.

With one rough, spread palm, he impetuously bends you over the kitchen counter, juices from the abandoned apple saturating your shirt. You whine as your face squishes against the cold countertop, making Billy chuckle meanly, enjoying the way you squirm as he manhandles you.

“I was about to come back to bed, y’know.” You huff, earning a flippant spank to your ass, accompanied by a hard squeeze of the rippling fat.

“You think of me as a patient man? Thought we were closer than that, lovey.” Billy tuts, grabbing at your hair whilst nudging his thick cock at your entrance, your pussy still raw from the previous rounds he blessed you with.

His mushroom cockhead stretching you out, pushing past rounds of cum out of you and causing it to drool down your thighs has you mewling, still so thrown off by the spontaneity of Billy’s actions, fucked-out brain unable to comprehend anything but the way your walls flutter around his girthy shaft and your clit throbs once his balls nestle up against you snugly. He grabs your hair tighter, almost painfully so, and starts thrusting up into you with fervour. The counter's unsteady, your legs are weak, but Billy's got a good grip on you, and that's all you need. You're his. Totally. Utterly. And the way he's taking you here so insatiably, on the kitchen counter, with the faint smell of the apple and the morning's coffee lingering, only cements that fact.

Billy's grunts become deeper, his pace quicker, and you know that blissful release is close. Too close. You're struggling to keep up, your walls clenching around him like a vice, despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be having a break from the rough fucking you've been doing since you woke up.

He doesn't stop, though. Billy has a relentless thirst for you, a need to mark you as his, and the thought has you mewling and salivating as your hands grab at the countertop, in desperate need of some sort of grounding presence to keep you from going completely stupid on some filthy cock. It's embarrassing, how loud you are, but Billy seems to thrive on it, spanking you again, this time with a loud, triumphant slap that echoes through the apartment.

He pulls out with a wet plop almost as quickly as he stuffed you full, leaving you feeling empty and aching to cum. With a teasing pat to your ass, Billy chuckles, “Come on, then. Said we were gonna head back to the bed, didn’t you?”

up to date now 😼

[safination]

Little Things

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Alastor x Reader Warnings: None! TLDR: There are days when Alastor just doesn't want to be touched, and you totally understand that. You're one your best behavior to not touch Alastor. Surely, with such an attentive partner, no misunderstanding will occur.

My inbox is currently accepting requests. Feel free to ask for some stuff. I'm in a mood to write and create, so lend me your ideas and I'll bring them to words. This is a drabble. It's weird not to make full one-shots tbh, but meh, wasn't in the mood to make this a whole one-shot.

It’s the little things, really.

Alastor sits towards the edge of the bar, his stool nudged just a fraction farther than usual.  Charlie leans forward, eyebrows furrowed as she rants about this and that and this and that.

Tentacles slither out the shadows, wrapping themselves around the legs of Alastor’s stool. No one really notices when the tentacles pull him another fraction farther away.

Or, how just this morning, Alastor took time out of his day to grab a bowl, and carefully place the three eggs Niffty asked for.  The bowl slides across the table instead of being placed into her tiny hands.

See? The little things.

Heh . . .

You deserve a pat on the shoulder, honestly. Because what a considerate partner you are! Alastor didn’t even have to mention the slightest discomfort, yet still, you know he’s in ‘no touch!’ mode.

That’s why, for the entire day, you’ve been supporting Alastor’s ‘No-Touch’ day.

The rest of Hell’s day goes something like this:

Alastor asks you to hand him his coat.

And like the considerate partner that you are, you hand it to him. Although, you do have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from helping him wear the thing.

If it were any other day you would wrap it around his shoulders, and hold the back as he slips it around his arm. Then you would trail your fingers across his lapels to adjust its fit. Maybe, even give his bowtie a slight tug.

But you are a very, very, good partner.

So, your hands are kept to yourself, and the coat is placed on the table with a smile.

The devil seems keen on tempting you, but no, you are not giving in. (If you were in the garden, not even the devil himself could make you eat that apple.)

It’s been quite the productive day, and you definitely deserve an award! Not once have you touched Alastor, not have you stepped a foot into his personal space. It’s been difficult if you were being honest, but oh, well.

Maybe you’ll buy yourself a sweet, little treat for being such a considerate partner to Alastor. He’s quite lucky. Very few are as kind as you are, and even less are as attentive to his needs.

Just like right now.

There’s a gaping space between your bodies. It’s an easy thing to place yourself on the edge of the bed, careful not to roll and wrap your arms around Alastor.

Really, an award is in —

Alastor shoots up the bed, his note turned into the air with a scowl. “I refuse to keep playing this childish game,” he says, huffing at you. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to sort it out, but I’ve had enough.”

“Dearest . . .” You blink at him, pushing yourself up to sit as well. “I . . . What?”

His lips twist, and once more he huffs. It reminds you of a buck. “I would rather that you tell me that you’re upset with me instead of doing these ridiculous little things.”

“Ridiculous?”

“Ridiculous and childish!” Alastor points a finger at you, and there’s this petty voice urging you to chomp it off for such an audacity. “Do not confuse me for a fool, dearest. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“Well, of course, I have!” you say. “You’ve been in a mood since the moment you woke up. The cat almost got its tail bitten for rubbing between your legs.”

Alastor stares at you, an incredulous look on his face. “Ridiculous,” he tells you. “You are, absolutely, ridiculous.”

“I think you mean ‘considerate’.”

He flops back down to the bed, then rolls to you like some fucking child. Alastor keeps rolling until you don’t know whose limbs belong to who. His fingers curl around your shirt as he buries his weight deeper into you.

It’s the little things, remember? Like how you reach out to play with the strands of his hair until you’re finally combing through.

“I thought you were in a mood.”

“I am,” Alastor tells you, and deeper and deeper and deeper he goes. “All day I’ve been wanting nothing but this, yet you were so quick to deny me.”

“Don’t your moods usually require personal space?”

Alastor pulls you even closer, until your personal space becomes his as well. “This belongs to me,” he says. “And I don’t appreciate it being taken away from me.”

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

It Only Takes One

Jason has never felt more useless in his life. There's a gun to your head, and all he can do is watch. ~1.2k words

You're kneeling in front of him. Any other time, he would be fighting the heat that threatens to rise to his face. Any other time, he would be reaching out to cup the back of your head, eager to guide you closer. But it's not any other time. There's a gun pressed to where Jason's fingers should be on your scalp, and Jason feels cold.

The armor of his Red Hood gear is too tight. He can't tell what your expression is under your domino mask. He wonders if you're scared. It would be worse if you weren't, if you trust him enough to save you.

He doesn't hear most of Falcone's speech, he's too busy desperately thinking of a way to save you. He can't seem to come up with one. The cold metal of the gun is against your head and he's halfway across the room from you. He doesn't know how to save you.

Falcone shoves the barrel of the gun against your head. It takes every inch of Jason's self-control not to lurch forward. "You really thought there wouldn't be consequences for burning down my warehouses, did you," Falcone asks, smug and confident.

"I'll admit the two of you have been a real problem for me," he continues, nudging your leg with his foot in feigned disgust. He looks up from you to meet Red Hood's gaze, "But it only takes one good bullet to deal with issues like this."

Jason does surge forward at that, and the henchmen at either side of him force him back down to his knees.

Falcone just laughs. "Ah, ah, hot shot," he knocks back the safety and Jason's ears start to ring, "wouldn't want your partner to spill their brains everywhere. Not when we haven't had any real fun."

You still look so calm. Even as he thrashes and writhes against the men holding him down, you're kneeling like there's not a thing wrong. Like your life doesn't hang in the balance, like just one twitch of Falcones finger wouldn't take away the person Jason needs most.

All his training, all his skills and reflexes, all has come down to nothing. Because he can't save you. He can't stop the cruel smiles that form on the thugs around you. He can't find a way to cross the room and get to you before the trigger gets pulled.

"Don't shoot," he snaps out, all the panic and fear he's feeling filtered out through the helmet in a false bravado, "Aren't they more useful alive?"

Falcone scoffs and kicks you again, "Neither of you are useful."

"I could be," Jason promises. He could be. He could be anything to keep you safe, "I used to run more territory in Gotham than you've ever seen. I have an in with The Bat. I'm the best at what I do, and you know it."

Interest speaks in Falcones' eyes. Good. He should be focused on Red Hood. He should be lowering that gun a fraction of an inch. He should consider everything Jason would do for you. The lines he would cross. The people he'd hurt. He'd change the world to get you home safe.

Falcone lowers the gun completely. Jason wants to be relieved, but you still have other guns trained on you. You're still in danger.

Falcone takes a step closer to him, "Alright, Hood, I'm in a good mood tonight. So, let's make a deal. You tell me who Batman is, maybe do me a few favors, and you and your partner are free to go."

"They leave first, and then we talk," Jason counters. As if he'd risk you getting shot.

Faclone tuts and points his gun back towards you, "That's not how this works, son."

Red Hood stiffens. He doesn't feel like a hero right now, he rarely ever does. But in this moment, he's weak. Pathetic. He has one chance to keep you safe, and he's going to take it. Jason opens his mouth to speak.

Glass shatters and smoke fills the room. Instinct kicks in and Jason's thrown off the men holding him down before Falcone even has a chance to bark out orders. Nothing else matters but getting his hands on you.

There's yelling. None he recognizes. He breaks more bones than he has in weeks. Blood splatters onto his armor.

When the smoke finally starts to clear, Jason scans the room desperately. Every single goon is knocked unconscious on the floor. Falcone's in handcuffs, limp on the floor.

He's lucky that Red Robin and Spoiler got to him first. Jason is more than inclined to remind him why Red Hood was the most powerful crime lord Gotham's ever known.

"Hey-" your voice cuts into his darker thoughts. Jason doesn't hesitate to move towards you and grab your waist with both hands, tugging you against him.

He scans your face, "Are you hurt?" He's frantic, his hands hold you just a little too tight, he's crowding your space. Jason's aware of all of this, but he only pulls you closer.

"I'm okay. I'm not hurt. Are you?" You say, pressing your hands to the leather of his jacket.

His shoulders slump and he drops his head to rest his face plate against your forehead, "I'm– fine." He takes a moment, a selfish minute to focus on your breathing.

He pulls back to nod towards Spoiler and Red Robin, "We're leaving." Jason doesn't bother to check if they acknowledge him, only pulls you along to the balcony.

He's more shaken than he wants to admit. He needs to get both of you out of here, somewhere safe. You follow him willingly, don't say a word until he's led you all the way home to your apartment.

You don't try to talk him out of anything, not when he pulls you onto his lap and holds you close. You let him toss his helmet to the ground and hide his face in your shoulder.

Jason's not sure how long it stays like that. Your armor digs into his skin. He's sure his own suit is doing the same. You play with the ends of his hair. He tries to keep his heartbeat steady.

Jason nearly convinces himself that both of you are safe. That it's going to be okay. He almost believes it until you speak up.

"Were you going to tell him?" You ask quietly, so softly he might have missed it if his every sense wasn't trained on you.

"Tell him?" He mumbles in your neck. Jason knows exactly what you're talking about. But he's stalling. There's no way to really answer.

You don't respond. He doesn't answer.

Of course, he was going to tell him. Of course, he was going to put everyone they've ever cared about or loved in danger.

You know that. You have to know that if you don't ask again. There's not a thing he wouldn't give to keep you alive, to keep you happy and healthy and safe.

He'd trade any secret, commit any atrocity, betray everyone who ever trusted him, all for you. But how can he put that into words? He can't. Doesn't know how. And you don't deserve the burden of that. He can't lay something so heavy at your feet.

He holds you tighter instead. The silence is answer enough.

[brittscafe]

Hi there!

Can I request bleach men finding out along the grape vine that s/o likes them. But like add some spice ✨ by this I mean, maybe the men can over hear s/o thirsting for them. Or anything else, please be free to do anything.

Characters (in order of importance): Byakuya, Shunsui, ichigo, Jushiro, Toshiro.

(If this is too many please remove characters starting from the back).

hiiii! ohhh?? spice??? My fav, ofc <3 <3 I loveddd writing all of these for each character, but I think my fav was Shunsui's!! Let me know your fav <3

Byakuya: He's heard plenty of rumors before and he's never really believed them. He's not one to care for rumors, nor believe them. But, he has heard a lot of rumors in the Soul Society that peak his interest.

It takes a lot to catch Byakuya's attention and certainly have. He plans on catching your attention in a bold way.

You're walking along the dirt road of the soul society, the sun beaming down on your face. Byakuya's standing the corner, eyes on you.

He loves the way that the sun gleams onto your face, heightening your pretty features. Byakuya steps out from the corner and a tiny gasp escapes your chest as he pops out from nowhere.

He towers over you with his tall, slender figure.

"Y/n, come here," he beckons you with a deep voice and your heart drops down to your feet.

"Um...ok," you mumble out, following him back to his estate. The cherry blossoms are flowing around in the air, so soft and light. Your eyes are stuck on them, almost trapped in a trance.

"I think of you like a blossom petal. Delicate and so pretty," his voice is soft and romantic.

Who knew Byakuya could be such a romantic?

Your eyes widen as he reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. God, you're falling in love with him.

"What?" you blurt out, furrowing your eyebrows together. Why is he all of sudden talking to you like this? It doesn't make any sense.

"I've heard you speak of the cherry blossoms in my estate. I've also heard you say how you would like to rip off my ropes and kiss me from bottom to top," his voice is stern, but has a hint of amusement in it.

Your eyes widen and your stomach twists into uneasy knots. Your knees feel like they're gonna buckle underneath you. Face planting in front of Byakuya would be 10 times less embarrassing right now.

"Oh my god! I didn't think you would ever catch wind of that. I am so embarrassed!" you raise your voice, hiding your face in the palm of your hands.

Byakuya lets out a tiny chuckle, it's so quiet you wouldn't have noticed it if there was a cricket chirping.

"How about I take you out first? I suggest a date first, then we could get the tearing off my ropes later. After all...I am a gentleman."

There is no way Byakuya Kuchiki is suggesting that the two of you go on a date right now.

You slowly lift your head up from your hands, embarrassment written all over your face. Byakuya gazes into your eyes and you're finding it hard to even speak.

Your palms are sweaty, but your body is excited. Your heart is thudding, but it's ecstatic with joy.

"Ok," is all you can whisper out. Byakuya nods his head and starts to walk away.

You stand there, dazed, confused, but happy. You now have a date with Captain Kuchiki.

Shunsui: You're sitting beside your friend in the bar, gushing about Shunsui, not realizing that he had walked in and taken a seat right beside you and was listening you gush about him.

"I mean, come on, who doesn't like Captain Kyoraku? Have you seen how big his muscles are?!" you giggle out, throwing your head back and your friend's eyes widen at the figure behind you.

"So...you like my muscles then?" a familiar, raspy voice speaks up from behind you. You don't even notice that Shunsui nudges your shoulder as he speaks to you as your heart sinks down into your feet.

Your eyes widen and you stare at your friend in total awe. You slowly turn to face Shunsui, palms sweaty as you try to only imagine what is going to happen next.

Shunsui wears a playfully grin across his face, white teeth winking at you. Your face heats up and you slowly bring your hands up to your face, covering it with pure embarrassment.

Shunsui chuckles lightly and slowly reaches out to you. He can't help feeling so attracted to you, eyes glistening in the bar setting. His large hand grabs both of yours, causing your body to tingle.

He gently pulls your hands away from your face, not letting go of them. Your eyes meet his and Shunsui cups your cheek with his other hand.

You furrow your eyebrows for a minute, not having enough time to react to anything. Shunsui pulls your face towards his, closing his eyes and pressing his lips against yours.

A gasp leaves your friends lips, loud enough to echo throughout the whole bar.

Your heart pounds against your chest as his lips melt into yours. You can feel his beard against your chin and mouth, tickling it. Shunsui slowly pulls away from your lips and opens his eyes, glancing up at you.

His gaze is hot, making you feel like your body is on fire. He smiles widely before standing up and walking out of the bar. You can hear your friend giggling behind you.

"What just happened?" you mumble out, pressing a finger to burning lips, seeming to want more...

Ichigo: School is full of gossip and rumors traveling along the grapevine. It's hard to tell what rumor is a lie or the truth these days at Karakura high.

Ichigo likes to learn about all the new gossip, but he will never comment on anything like that. He likes to stand in the corner, arms crossed and leaning against the wall as he takes in all the new information.

"I mean didn't you hear that y/n likes Ichigo?" a girl scoffs out. He cocks an eyebrow with interest, tuning into the new gossip session.

"Please, like they would ever have a chance with him," another girl rolls her eyes with annoyance.

That smug smirk on his face slowly fades into a face of shock. His eyebrows are furrowed and he wishes he could sink into the wall he's leaning against.

He slowly brings his hand up to his jaw, rubbing it. Ichigo thinks you're so sweet, nice, and genuine. You always help him when he's behind on work and you're super cute, honestly his heart tinges a little for you.

Ichigo glances out into the hallway and there you are, walking down the hallway, heading to the group of girls.

What horrible timing.

You're staying close to the wall, trying to avoid the rather large crowd of girls by the lockers.

"Hey Y/n! Isn't it true that you like Kurosaki?" a girl calls out to you and your stomach twists into knots. You glance over at her, at a lost for words.

"Oh, come on! Just tell the truth, it doesn't matter anyways. It's not like you have a chance with him," a girl comments, glaring you up and down.

You're taken aback by their mean words and demeanor. It strikes you in the heart and your throat starts to become raspy and burn a bit, tears welling up in your eyes.

Ichigo breath hitches in his throat as he watches your face drop. He hated seeing that.

"Oh my god, there is no way. They're crying about it," a girl giggles out and the rest of the girls break out into laughter. You sink down into your figure and start to rush off.

Ichigo pushes himself off the wall and steps in front of you, blocking your path. You gaze up at him, teary eyed and cheeks burning.

The group of girls are staring at Ichigo and you. He wants them to see this. It's gonna be burned in their little minds.

Ichigo's hand grab onto your waist and pull you closer. Suddenly, he dips his head down and captures your lips with his. Your eyes widen and scan Ichigo's face as his warm lips are pressed against yours.

Your body relaxes and you lean into his touch, closing your gasp. You hear the group of girls gasp loudly behind you and start whispering, but you could care less about them right now.

Ichigo slowly pulls away from the kiss, the two of you opening your eyes and meeting each other's gaze.

"Come on," Ichigo gestures with his head, holding out his hand for you to grab. You glance down at his hand then back at the girls, standing there in utter shock.

Your lips are warm and tingling from the kiss. You gaze back at Ichigo and take his hand, allowing him to take you away.

Jushiro: He's one to soak in all the new gossip spreading around the Soul Society. Never speaking up, just smiling politely and nodding his head, retaining all the information in his head.

Although, there's one rumor that catches his attention. He raises his eyebrows with interest as he hears that you might have a crush on him.

"Wait, what? How did you come across this information?" Jushiro steps into the conversation. Rangiku laughs a little bit, throwing her head back.

"Well, she told me, Captain. All of us know, right, Hanataro?" Rangiku asks, nudging his shoulder. Hanatora's eyes widen and he gulps, glancing over at you behind his shoulder.

"It is true, Captain Ukitake. In fact, if you want to ask y/n, they are right behind us," he gulps out, lowering his head with shame. Rangiku snaps her head over to you standing behind them, a dazed look across your face.

"Oh my gosh, y/n! I am so sorry, but I think I hear Captain Hitsugaya calling my name. Gotta go, bye!" Rangiku quickly takes off with Hanatora scrambling behind her.

You stare at Jushiro, heart racing against your chest. Now, he knows everything. It's like you're standing naked right in front of him, with no where to run.

Jushiro clears his throat and smiles warmly at you. You're surprised at his actions, thinking he would act indifferent to you.

"You shouldn't really listen to them spreading rumors around like that," he plays it off, crossing his arms and slowly walking up to you.

You gulp and slowly nod your head. "Yeah, I know," you lower your gaze to the ground, slightly embarrassed of the events that just happened.

Jushiro steps closer to you, reaching out his hand and cupping your face. Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat. You slowly lift your gaze from the ground up into Jushiro's soft eyes.

Your body is getting warmer as his hand rests on your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. He shoots you a warm smile and then tilts his head.

"See you around, y/n," his voice is husk and gentle. His hand falls back down to his side and he walks past you, cologne whisking in the air as you're left in shock.

Toshiro: You're helping Rangiku out with some paperowrk that Captain Hitsugaya assigned her. You scribble with the pen on the paper, putting it into another pile.

"Gosh, Captain Hitsugaya is so lame for making me do all this paperwork," Rangiku complains, hunching over in her seat.

"What? I think Captain Hitsugaya is super cool! He's really sweet when you get to know him," you shrug your shoulders.

"Trust me, he's super boring and strict. Makes me do paperwork all day," Rangiku groans out, rolling her eyes with annoyance.

"Come on, Rangiku. He can't be that bad. He's a really good person with a good soul," you comment and Rangiku leans in closer, narrowing her eyes.

"Sounds like someone has a crush," she giggles out and your eyes widen.

"What?! No way!" you reply back, raising your voice slightly. She leans back in the chair and has a smug smirk on her face.

"Sureeee," she chuckles out, shaking her head in disbelief. You scoff and chew on your bottom lip.

"Maybe just a little," you admit.

"Whatever. Moral of the story is that Toshiro is super lame for this," she sighs out.

"Now, Rangiku, I don't think that's quite true," Toshiro's voice rings out and Rangiku's head perks up. She chuckles nervously and pushes the chair back.

"I have to leave now, but good luck!" she quickly scrambles off, leaving you and Toshiro. You turn your head and see Toshiro walking towards you.

"Guess you heard her call you lame, huh?" you ask, letting out a tiny chuckle as Toshiro sits down across from you. He nods his head, a slight smile on his face.

"Sure did. Also heard everything else the two of you were discussing, but no worries. I also think you're super cool," Toshiro speaks with a hoarse voice.

You lift your eyes up from the paperwork and across the desk at Toshiro, gulping. Your heart flatters as his foot gentle taps yours and he smiles at you.

You clear your throat and nod your head, resuming the paperwork as Toshiro keeps you company.

Captain Hitsugaya thinks it's very cute that you have a crush on him.