#i feel like some of my comments on here make it excruciatingly obvious that i listen to one podcast & it is produced by theverge.com

[girderednerve]

thinking about historical copyright again!! legal history is interesting of itself but as multiple commentators have observed copyright is in some ways the only law enforced online & i think there are a lot of tense shifts occurring in how people think about copyright & cultural access, so it feels more pressing to understand like, what exactly is going on in this legal framework. anyway i read a good paper recently about the early history of copyright in english law [sidebar: these early modern precedents are part of the lineage of the american intellectual property regime, because of common law & our colonial past; now, because of the US's dominant role in the world trade organization, or i guess you could say our neocolonial present, the american intellectual property regime has an outsized effect on global practices, so it matters a lot more than it should]. the paper (stern, 2014) argued that modern copyright conflates two different ideas, one of which became dominant while the other is now only rhetorically invoked & has almost no legal standing any longer: the property right & the reputational interest, respectively. property rights are ownership, the right to control copies of a given work & to profit off of them, but reputational rights aren't really transferable; they include things like an author's public image and their dignity, their moral claim to have some say over how the work that they produce is shared and represented to the public. i found it very useful to see these two ideas disaggregated & treated as two different kinds of problems with potentially different solutions, because it is extremely common now online & elsewhere to defend an aggressive, i think clearly culturally harmful, copyright regime with reference to an author's dignitary rights, which are not in fact especially prioritized in actual law

[idy-ll-ique]

I'll Hold Mine.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: None

Genre : Pure fluff

Summary: Y/N has stuffed toys. She's ashamed of telling anyone else she has stuffed toys. Bucky doesn't understand why, they're so cute after all!

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Before you ask, yes, I was screaming the whole time while writing— this wasn't what you were gonna ask? Oh. Enjoy!

---

Bucky Barnes stared as the woman walked into the communal area, bleary eyed. "Y/N, good morning! Had a good night's sleep?" Clint asked her. Bucky quietly watched as Y/N nodded, but he knew she was lying. "Good morning to you two," she greeted them, giving them a small smile. Clint, about to walk out of the room, ruffled her hair and left.

"You're lying."

"Pardon?" Y/N blinked, staring at Bucky as she waited for her coffee to be prepared. "You didn't sleep well, I can see it all over your face," he rephrased, taking a sip of his coffee. "Fine, you caught me!" she groaned, "I didn't sleep last night." Bucky frowned when the woman plopped down next to him, clutching her mug with both hands.

"Why not? Is everything okay?" he asked worriedly. "It's embarrassing and I'm not going to tell you." She refused to speak after that. Embarrassing? Her? In his eyes, never. He didn't press on, though, silently offering his sad friend some company. When he heard a sniffle, he couldn't help it.

"Tell me what happened. I promise I won't judge you," he insisted, turning to look at her. "It's just— it's just that—" Y/N took in a shuddering breath. God, why was she making a fool of herself in front of her crush?! "Morning, people! Oh, oh no, I picked a bad timing—" Bucky and Y/N both turned to Tony, who slowly backed out of the room.

Nope, she wasn't doing it.

"I'm sorry, Buck," she mumbled, got up, kept her mug away and left. Bucky nearly crushed the mug he was holding, cursing Tony because why did he have to walk in just as Y/N was opening up to him?! He huffed and sat alone, drinking his coffee in misery.

The thing is, Y/N was great friends with everyone. She was loud, cheerful, funny and excruciatingly beautiful— you get the gist. Not with him, though. Around him, she was always quiet, shy, meek… submissive, in a way.

Hey Y/N, can you pass me that bottle?

If it were anyone else: "Your legs finally give up on you? About damn time." With him? "Yeah sure, here you go." She never, ever talked witty with him. Something about her was off… was she scared of him? Bucky's eyes went wide. Of course, that was it! Y/N Y/L/N was afraid of James Barnes! Why, though?

He was always so good to her. Nobody minded teasing Y/N, sometimes going too far but it was all in fun and Y/N knew that. Bucky, on the other hand…

Roast Y/N or finish the bottle of beer— you always drink when it comes to her, simp!

He could never. He had no idea what her insecurities were, what if he accidentally pushed a button and she stopped talking to him? At least they still made small talk, if she stopped talking to him, he didn't know how he would live. "Hey, everything okay?" Startled, he looked up at Steve.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "Everything is fine, what happened?" Steve sighed and sat next to his best friend. "It's Y/N, isn't it? I know the look on your face," he chuckled. "She was crying," Bucky spoke softly, "And she was about to tell me what happened but Stark walked into the room. Then she left without telling me."

"Why doesn't she talk to me?" he continued, intently staring at Steve. "I'd think that's fairly obvious," Steve laughed, "The woman loves you. Classic traits of a crush, Bucky. She limits her conversations with you because she doesn't want to embarrass herself. She never talks back to you because what if you start hating her?" Bucky blinked.

"Me? Hate her? Not possible," he scoffed. "You didn't find out why she was crying, right?" Bucky shook his head. "Why don't you go to the privacy of her room and find out? No one will interrupt you there, you might form a good bond and who knows? That might be the start of a beautiful, perfect relationship."

"I can't just go there like hey we were talking and you didn't tell me something so I've come to find out, that's invading her personal boundaries! She'll tell me when she's ready," Bucky spoke indignantly. "She hasn't eaten breakfast yet, there are some muffins in the oven, why don't you take those to her room?" Steve suggested.

After a minute of consideration, Bucky agreed.

---

Three short raps on the door.

"Y/N?"

Inside the room, Y/N froze. What was Bucky doing here? She glanced around her room, horrified, because it was a mess. "What happened?" she shouted from inside. "I brought you some breakfast, thought you might be hungry." She was hungry, though. "Wait 5 minutes!" Bucky patiently stood outside as Y/N made her room more presentable—

By hiding all her stuffed toys.

Some went in the wardrobe, some tossed carelessly under the bed, some stashed in the bedside drawer until she was certain there were no animals on display. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to the toys before opening the door to her room. "Bucky! Thank you for bringing me food, come in! Sorry, it's a mess."

Bucky waved his arm in dismissal as he walked in, looking around the room. "Your place is beautiful," he commented, giving her a small smile. She blushed and rubbed the back of her neck, shrugging. Both of them sat on the bed and Y/N picked up a muffin. "What do you wanna ask me?" At the blatant question, Bucky looked up.

"Why were you crying?" Y/N sighed and looked at her lap. "Sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I didn't mean to," she muttered. "No, no, it did not make me feel uncomfortable, I wanna help you," Bucky answered, shaking his head. "It's…" "Embarrassing? We've been through that, I don't care." A small laugh escaped her lips.

"Fine, I'll tell you. Promise you won't laugh," she whispered. "I promise." Y/N huddled close to him in case someone was somehow listening to them. "I lost my favorite stuffed toy and can't find her." Bucky sat silently for a few minutes. That was her definition of embarrassing?! What's embarrassing about stuffed toys?

"Should I help you?" he offered immediately, smiling at her. "You don't think I'm crazy? I'm a grown woman who still has stuffed toys. Names and everything," Y/N exclaimed, her jaw dropped. Bucky shrugged. "Of course I don't think you're crazy. There is nothing shameful about stuffed toys, I think it's quite sweet."

"Really? Just when I thought you couldn't be more perfect—" Bucky laughed at her words. They quickly finished eating the muffins and then stood up. "Have you checked the whole room?" Bucky asked her. She nodded. "Yes! The drawers, the cupboards, the wardrobe, over and under the bed… she's nowhere."

"But have you checked the bathroom?"

A loud groan left Y/N. "That's it, the bathroom! Ugh, I was so sleepy last night but I had to pee so I went to the bathroom, might've forgotten her inside, how stupid of me! Damn it!" As she kept rambling to herself, Bucky walked into the bathroom and fetched the doll that was sitting atop the sink. "Here you go, doll."

Y/N looked up at the nickname. "Hah, doll. Just like the one you're holding," she joked, taking the doll from his hands. "Yeah," he whispered, "Just like the one I'm holding." Y/N froze when his arms went around her waist, pulling her close to him. Was this actually happening?!

Did her crush like her back?!

She wanted to scream. "Bucky?" she whispered as he continued staring down at her, a dazed look on his face. "Why are you so adorable, doll?" he asked instead, gently rubbing her bottom lip with his thumb. Y/N gulped at the shockwaves the action sent throughout her body. "You tell me," she retorted, her breath hitching when he smirked at her.

"Find your wits now?" he teased, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips before she could answer. Shivers ran down her spine as she kissed the man back, clutching her doll tightly in her arms. Without breaking the kiss, Bucky walked forward until the back of Y/N's knees touched the bed. "Sit," he ordered and Y/N complied, looking at him with wide eyes.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Sleep."

Y/N blinked, expecting a sexy response but instead she got— "What?" she asked him, confused. Bucky knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his. "You haven't slept all night, doll, I need you to sleep. This—" He gestured between them, "—Has lots of time to happen. For now, all I want is for you to get some rest. You've had a tough morning." Y/N's eyes watered.

"Don't go away."

The way she said it was enough to keep him by her side forever and always. "Never, doll. Come on." He picked up the plate which was lying on the bed, dusted the crumbs off and lay down. Y/N lay down next to him, clutching her doll in her hands. She turned to face away from him as he turned, wrapping an arm around her, spooning her from behind.

"Thank you Bucky, goodnight."

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder. "Goodnight. You hold your doll, I'll hold mine," he whispered, smiling when the sound of soft snores filled the room.

---

"Aye, sweet doll!"

"She is, isn't she?"

"You know damn well I wasn't talking about your girlfriend, Barnes—" Y/N burst out laughing as Sam and Bucky narrowed their eyes at each other. "But I was! Sweet doll." Y/N scrunched her nose as Bucky pressed his nose to her cheek, the stubble on his face pricking her skin. "Thank you, Sam, that means a lot."

"No worries!" He plopped down next to Steve, who was looking at them with a smile. After Y/N got into a relationship with Bucky, she was opening up more. She was no longer embarrassed about her stuffed toys; these people were her friends and they stood by her side no matter what, no judgement. That's all she needed.

Clutching her doll to her bosom, Y/N snuggled against Bucky's chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "All okay?" Bucky whispered to her, wrapping his arm around her as he brushed her hair away from her face. "Yeah," she whispered as Tony walked into the room, immediately getting hit in the face by a deflating balloon, "All okay."

"I love you so much, doll," he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as she closed her eyes. "I love you too, Bucky," she smiled into his shoulder, "I love you too."

"As cute as all this is, it's your turn to pick a movie, Y/N so please, pick a movie."

"Hmm, I'm not in the mood… how about you pick one, Peter?"

"No! No, anyone but him!"

"Come on, we haven't watched Frozen 2 in a long time—"

"Shut up! No! Maybe give your boyfriend a turn, he picks better movies!"

"Never have I ever been so offended by something I 100% agree with."

"What do ya say, doll? Give me a turn?"

"Sure Barnes, whatever."

"Ouch."

"Deserved."

"Breaking News! For the first time in the history of the world, we're witnessing Y/N Y/L/N actively roasting James Barnes—"

"I don't mind anymore, everyone knows he's gonna come running back to me in no time."

"Hot damn!"

"Come on now, doll, you wanna be punished so badly—"

"Ugh, keep dirty talk out of this!"

Needless to say, movie night went great.

---

A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a like if you enjoyed!

[pudimsuki]

Takamki Keigo + beach+ NSFW plz maybe the reader has brought a new swim suit and it’s red like his wings ( yes the reader definitely did it to get his attention lol) and hawks sees them in it and goes a bit crazy

Crimson. Like his wings | Hawks x reader

Hi <3 I loved this request, sorry for taking so long!

Warnings: NSFW (18+ content), fem reader, swearing.

It was rare for the two of you to have some free time together. Like, REALLY rare. So when your winged hero boyfriend finally got a day off, you decided that you’re gonna enjoy the hell out of it.

You guys rented a beach house for the weekend ー In a deserted area for obvious reasons. I mean, you definitely didn't want a range of your pro-hero boyfriend fans asking for autographs and photos in the middle of his rest day, and besides, Hawks loved having privacy with you.

You took one last turn in front of the mirror, admiring your own image. You had bought that bikini especially for him, crimson red like his beautiful wings.

Choosing to remain barefoot, you walked through the glass doors and down the few steps that led directly to the shore. The warm sand tickled your feet and you lifted your arm above your face until you got used to the sunlight in your eyes.

Keigo was lying on his back on a towel, leaning his weight on his elbows as he watched the waves come and go, dark glasses on. Small droplets of water glistened on his bare torso, indicating that he had already ventured into that sea of salt water. His feathers stretched magnificently over the sand so that the sun touched every plumage.

You sighed at the view.

"I know I'm hot, babe. No need to stare."

You rolled your eyes, muttering an "asshole" under your breath. Keigo chuckled deliciously, turning his head to finally face you, only to be caught off guard by the image of you. The red color of your bathing suit managed to match exactly the color of his wings, which definitely didn't go unnoticed by him; your bare skin glowing extremely invitingly, the shape of the fabric leaving little to the imagination.

Keigo let out a long whistle, taking off his glasses. "Oh my, what do we have here?"

"I know I'm hot, babe. No need to stare." You mimic, throwing your hair over your shoulder.

That went straight between his legs.

“Little tease.” He purrs, licking his lips. "Come here, pretty thing"

You walk slowly towards him, making sure to arch your back as you spread your towel on the sand.

"If I knew my cute little bird could be hotter than it already was, I would have arranged this weekend much sooner."

“Um, maybe I should buy more bikinis.”

“Are you always such a tease?”

“Just for you, Kei.” You winked at him before lying face down on the towel and closing your eyes, feeling the sun kissing your back.

Keigo felt his cock twitch in his bathing shorts. Shit, he was already horny.

He rolled onto his stomach until he reached you. You felt him approaching, a smile already painting your lips, but you remained still.

“Hum…” Keigo hummed, tracing the curve of your back with the palm of his hand from the base of your neck to the swell of your ass, which he squeezed between his fingers. “Just for me, yeah?”

“Uh-huh”

With your eyes still closed, you felt your boyfriend's soft lips ghosting over your skin, from bottom to top, until they reached the junction of your shoulder and neck, where they began a trail of soft kisses up to your earlobe.

He swung one of his legs over you until his body was above yours, his huge wings forming a shadow on the ground. "I would invite you for a swim, but I don't think we're going to get past the sand today."

Just to prove his point, he pressed his body against yours, making you gasp as you felt the bulge pressed against the shell of your ass.

“Kei…” you moaned, lifting up a little to rub against him. Keigo growled at the friction, bucking his hips back on you, both of you still dressed.

“'m gonna fuck this tight hole of yours, baby." He promised, hot breath against your neck.

"Do it, Kei.” You breathe, already feeling your panties getting wet. “I missed you so much.”

His wings rustled above you. He pulled back a little, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but he just turned you around so you could face him. You sighed at the predatory look he gave you and opened your legs for him.

“I’m all yours”, you purred.

That was enough to draw a growl from his throat, and before you could blink, the bottom of your bikini was ripped to shreds, leaving your intimacy completely bare and at his mercy. “Keigo! It was new!” You complained. “I couldn't use it for ten minutes!”

“I’ll buy you as many as you want. And besides”, he bent closer to your mouth. “It’s your fault for being so damn hot.”

Then he kissed you. Slowly, sensually. You held the back of his head, bringing him closer as your tongues engaged in a delicious rhythm.

“So wet for me, baby bird” He praised when you pulled away, pressing two fingers between your folds. You whined, lifting your hips for more. "But still so impatient.” The chuckle that follows was from pure amusement. “I should teach you how to be more patient, love. What do you say?” He teased, swirling his fingers excruciatingly slowly over your clit.

"No" you cried, moving your hips. "I want you now, Kei. Please, want you now.”

"Want my cock, baby? Want me to fuck you real good?”

“Yes, yes, please.” You babble, his fingers still working on your bundle of nerves.

“As you wish, ma'am.”

In less than two seconds, he'd lowered his bathing shorts, his erect member popping out immediately.

That sight was almost divine, the sun streaming through his wings as he positioned himself between your legs. You ran your fingers over his defined abdomen, feeling the remnants of the salt water on his skin. Keigo smiled, pushing into you slowly. You sighed in bliss at the stretching sensation, wrapping your legs around his waist until he was fully inside, your faces mere inches from each other, his hair tickling you.

"Love you," you whispered into his mouth.

Keigo wrapped his arms around your body and began to move at a pleasant, almost lazy pace. It was intimate and extremely sensual. You closed your eyes, none of you bothering to hold back your moans as only the roar of the waves covered your sounds.

"Love you, my dove," he replies, kissing your neck as he increases the speed of his thrusts. He lifts the top of your already-lost bikini, exposing your soft globes to his gaze. “So pretty...” Then you cried his name, feeling his hot tongue circling your nipple before sucking hard.

He continued his ministrations, and you felt the towel slipping out of place, causing your limbs to touch the floor, the sand biting into your skin and sticking to your hair, but that was the last of your worries at the moment. Keigo moaned with his eyes closed as he felt you squeezing him, your walls already closing in around him.

“Fuck, Keigo” you moan. “I’m close.”

“Cum, baby, cum for me.”

So you did. White fluid bursted around him as you cried out loud, arching your back as you came. He gripped your thighs to keep you from letting go of his waist and continued his thrusts, reaching for his own high. Your legs trembled with the arousal, limbs going limp as he thrust harder, your breasts bouncing with the movement.

Keigo pulled out of you before he came, painting your breasts and your once red bra white. He fell beside you and you just stared at the sky for a few moments, bodies sweaty from the sun and sex.

“You owe me a new bikini”, you pointed after a minute making him laugh, a little breathless.

“Do I?” You looked at him accusingly, to which he just answered with a cheeky grin. "Actually, I think you're not gonna need clothes for this weekend."

You scoffed. “You wish. Maybe I should - Keigo!”

He suddenly turned you around, getting behind you and pulling your hips so that your ass was in the air, arms and face in the sand. Fast as always, Hawks.

"Oh baby," he cooed and you felt the tip of his cock already starting to get hard again against your entrance, "you didn't think we were done, did you? We have two whole days to go."

Needless to say you were sore at the end of the weekend.

I love this winged man

Thank you for reading and for the support!

Angie ❤

[any comments will be answered with my main account: @angie-1306]

[birklurks]

Hi Birk,

I just wanted to say that I agree with the asker of your last ask, and the tone of your answer was what prompted me to send this.

We've interacted briefly in the past, and I know we've probably not seen eye to eye because of that, but I've followed you and genuinely enjoyed your engagement in the Naruto fandom (even though it's a fandom i tend to lurk on the outskirts of, my main interests lie elsewhere). That being said, it has been saddening to see how bitter you appear to be when discussing the fandom now. Surely this aggressive bitterness isn't sustainable? I do understand the comment debate - and I'll admit I probably don't have much of a stake in it because I live in very small fandoms - and I respect you for sticking to your guns and your beliefs. I wish that this was done with a little less open hostility that at times seems to come across like an attempt at making others feel guilty for how they participate in fandom (whether this is intended or not).

I'm truly sorry if someone has at one point made you feel like the way you engage in fandom is wrong. I really am.

Hi there @temporary-dysphoria​ 👋🏻,

Yes, of course I remember you! 🤗

You are the person who wrote this post based on your... whimsical, interpretation and application of “copyright law” (which was actually rife with unsubstantiated fear mongering hyperbole and misinformation 🥴).

BUT, I genuinely (no joke) have to hand it to you - when I respectfully reached out to ask you for citations to back up your fanciful claims, at least you were honest enough to admit that:

"The original post was done in 10 minutes based on my memory alone and a quick google search". 

So, kudos to you for that! Although, you also said you would get back to me about my request for weighted authorities and substantiation... (which of course, you never did... probably because they don't exist 😬). 

So unfortunately, you're batting a 0% average here when it comes to credibility.

That being said, I never assess any person based on a one-off interaction. So, let's see what you have to say. 😊

(Birk reading... scrolling... reading some more..... DONE.)

_________________________________________

Ahhh, so this is another one of "those" asks.

To start, the thing that never ceases to surprise me about people on Tumblr is how singularly focused they are on "tone" or how something is “framed” rather than the actual SUBSTANCE of what is being said. Which I know is silly, because the reason for this is excruciatingly obvious: 

In the context of fandom, folks send me asks like this (making lackluster attempts to try and spin my posts as indicative of some sort of degenerative “bitterness” that is supposedly “saddening”), because they cannot honestly, competently, and rationally address what is really going on without acknowledging the ridiculous, rude, and highly inconsiderate nature of the behavior I am unabashedly mimicking without any “uwu” sugar coating.

I mean honestly, what about my tone really prompted you to send this ask? 

Does one person plainly stating the glaringly obvious (albeit, quiet) parts out loud, and holding up a mirror to the realities of silent lurkership make you that uncomfortable?? 

And most importantly - why can you freely lurk, but not me??

“I wish that this was done with a little less open hostility that at times seems to come across like an attempt at making others feel guilty for how they participate in fandom (whether this is intended or not).”

This is genuinely puzzling.... “open hostility”?? 

Are you serious? 😦

All I’ve ever done over the past 5 months is hold up a mirror to the glorious nature of voracious silent lurkership for what it objectively, FACTUALLY is. 

I am an “equitable” silent lurker now. I get everything I want, when I want it, how I want it, and as much as I want it at the expense of everyone else’s extraordinary labor, sacrifice of time and effort… for absolutely nothing in return. 

That is just a fact.

If you think the statement (or mere reflection) of a glaringly obvious fact = “open hostility”, I seriously question how you could possibly communicate in any context with other rational adults (in any setting other than a carefully hyper-curated 100000000% validating internet echo chamber).

As for my posts coming across as “an attempt to make others feel guilty” - huh??

Why is that on me?? All I’m doing is holding up a plain 1:1 mirror here. 

If people feel guilty or uncomfortable by what they see in that mirror, maybe they should think about why that is. That’s on them.

Because I sure as hell don’t feel guilty. Far from it. Why should I, when fandom has unequivocally taught me that nobody owes anyone anything??

So of course I’m having a ball!! As a fellow lurker - aren’t you??! 💃🏻🥂✨

As for this odd blurb:  

“I'm truly sorry if someone has at one point made you feel like the way you engage in fandom is wrong. I really am.”

What a weird (and frankly, inapplicable) sentiment to express to someone who is just existing and having the time of her life enjoying the endless benefits of effortless silent lurkership no differently than you do. 🤔

But you know what - if sending me thinly veiled, patronizing fake platitudes make you feel better, then by all means go to town, I guess.🤷🏻‍♀️

At any rate, once again -  I do genuinely respect the fact that you had the balls to send this ask as an identified user. It’s more than I can say for the overwhelming majority of unprincipled cowards in my inbox.

[makoodlesarchive]

daisy chain

oop, back at it again with dragon dick kiri

thank you SO much to @brattyquirks and @shoutogepi for looking over this for me when i was sick of looking at it, and @ramen-rambles​ for the fun idea!! i appreciate the help so so much !! 🧡

pairing: kirishima x reader x bakugou

word count: 8.3k

warnings: explicit penetrative sex, M/M/F threesome, dildos, dragon dick kiri

this is part of the dragon dick kiri series

tip jar!

It had started out as a joke, a throwaway comment that you really hadn’t put all that much thought into. You didn’t expect it to grow into anything more, but maybe you should have; it was pretty typical of Bakugou to take an innocent comment and interpret it as a personal challenge, after all.

“I hate my life.” You announce to no one in particular, your voice echoing off of the bathroom tiles.

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugou snarls. You can’t take the vicious heat in his voice seriously, given your current predicament, so you just opt to ignore it. “Will you just- ow! That hurts, you stupid, shitty-”

“Fuck off, this is not my fault!” You snap back. Your patience is frayed and barely hanging on by a thread, and you feel safe enough snapping back at Bakugou considering you’re confident that he’s in no position to try and kill you if he does happen to take issue with your tone.

“We’re not playing the blame game!” Bakugou snarls, which means that he’s definitely aware that he’s at fault here but doesn’t want to admit it. “All you have to do is-”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough!”

You swear viciously and get to your feet, clambering out of the bathtub. You nearly slip on the wet tile floor, but just manage to keep your balance.

“Wait,” Bakugou says, and his tone has changed significantly. He sounds a little panicked now, as if he thinks that you’re about to abandon him to his fate, “Where the fuck are you going?”

You decide not to answer him, just because you’re feeling kind of petty, but when you remain quiet he tries to climb out of the bathtub after you. You notice the movement out of the corner of your eye and turn to look at him, scowling. “Will you stay where you are!”

“Where are you going!”

“I’m right here, I’m not leaving!” You go back to peering into the bathroom cabinet, thoroughly irritated by just about everything right now. “This is so stupid.”

“This was your idea.” Bakugou murmurs sulkily. His voice is quiet and resentful, and you’re probably not even supposed to hear it but you do hear it, and you whirl around.

“What?” Your voice comes out louder than you had intended, but you’re angry now. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You came up with this all by yourself!”

Bakugou’s face is scrunched up in a mixture of pained discomfort and embarrassment, but he still manages to level you with a cuttingly annoyed glare. He opens his mouth to speak, and you ready yourself for whatever no doubt pathetic excuse is about to fall out of his mouth when your bickering is interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey,” Kirishima calls, concerned, “Are you guys okay in there?”

“Everything’s fine!” You yell at the same time as Bakugou practically screeches “Yes, fuck off!”

“Uhhh..” Kirishima remains unconvinced. The floor creaks as he shifts his weight around in front of the door. “What’s going on?”

You can’t blame him for being worried; both you and Bakugou have been locked in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes. You and Kirishima had been relaxing on the couch while Bakugou showered when the shower had shut off abruptly and Bakugou had started roaring your name. You had gone running instinctively, leaving Kirishima wide-eyed and startled on the couch as you went crashing into the bathroom. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Bakugou leaning over the ceramic edge of the bathtub with his fingers up his ass, red-faced and visibly panicking.

“It’s nothing to worry about, babe,” you call out to Kirishima, finally finding what you had been searching for and banging the cabinet shut. “We’ll be out soon, promise.”

After an excruciatingly long moment, Kirishima decides to take your word for it and retreats. You let out a breath, then turn back to Bakugou. He’s kneeling down, but his back is almost unnaturally straight and his jaw is clenched tight. His discomfort is obvious, but you really can’t bring yourself to feel all that sympathetic towards him - you still can’t believe he had the nerve to try and blame this on you.

You take a deep, fortifying breath, and slide your shoulders back. “Okay,” you say, “Bend over, ass up.”

Bakugou looks at you as though you’d just taken out a gun and threatened to shoot him. “What the fuck?”

“There is literally no other way to fish out the dildo that you lost up your ass, so just do it!” You hiss, your patience officially reaching its limit thanks to a healthy mixture of anger and embarrassment. You would rather be literally anywhere else right now, and you imagine Bakugou feels the same way.

The anger and embarrassment on his face only gets worse when he catches sight of the bottle of lube you’ve managed to fish out of the cabinet. He stays quiet as you climb back into the bathtub and situate yourself behind him and then, miraculously, he bends forward and braces himself on the rim of the bathtub with his ass jutting out towards you without saying a word. 

“Okay,” you breathe. Now that his ass is actually being presented to you, you’re at a loss for what to do. “Um.”

“Just get on with it!” Bakugou hisses over his shoulder. The embarrassment is only fueling his anger, and you have a feeling that the only reason you haven’t been murdered so that no one else can ever learn about this is because the dildo lost somewhere up Bakugou’s rectum is hindering his movements.

“Okay!” You kneel down and squint at his ass. Though the shower is off, the tub is still wet and the moisture seeps through the knees of your jeans. You ignore the temporary discomfort as you pet awkwardly at Bakugou’s back to try and calm him down as your other hand slips towards his asshole. “God, this is awkward.”

“You don’t have to fucking point it out.” Bakugou grounds out through gritted teeth. His fists are clenching the edge of the tub so tight that his knuckles strain against the thin skin on his hands. 

You uncap the lube and drizzle it all over your fingers. It might be a little overkill, but you’re already so far out of your comfort zone that you figure it’s better to be safe than sorry. The last thing you need is Bakugou snapping your head off because you accidentally hurt his ass. “Remind me why you shouted for me instead of Kirishima?”

Bakugou grumbles a little bit at that, but before he can answer the question you take the plunge and stick your fingers in his ass. It obviously takes him by surprise, because he lunges forward a bit and can’t quite bite back the strangled noise that’s punched out of his throat. “Fuck! Warn a guy before you go sticking your fingers up his ass!”

“You have a whole dildo up there, I doubt my fingers are gonna make that much of a difference.” You say, maybe a bit uncharitably. His asshole is lubed up pretty well, so your fingers slide in with ease, but he is pretty tight. You can totally see how his asshole slurped up the dildo as if it was suction powered. “Hey, you never answered my question.”

“What fucking question? Jesus-!” He jerks away from your fingers a little and bares his teeth at you over his shoulder, “Fucking take it easy!”

You glare at him, but don’t rise to it. “Why did you call for me instead of Kirishima?” It’s hard to keep your questing fingers gentle when you’re searching for something inside an asshole, but you do your best to try and keep Bakugou’s complaints to a minimum.

Bakugou exhales forcefully, the line of his shoulders tense and rigid. “I don’t know,” he says through gritted teeth, “I wasn’t thinking.”

You hum thoughtfully, but then your fingers brush the base of the dildo and you lose your train of thought. “Ah!” It’s difficult to get a grip on it, because of the copious amounts of lube and the awkward shape of the base. Everytime you almost catch a hold of it, you accidentally push it further in. “Fuck! Why the hell didn’t you use a dildo with some kind of flared base?”

“How many fucking dildos do you think I have on hand, huh?” Bakugou says. He’s obviously angry, but it’s a little difficult to take that anger seriously when you have several fingers stuffed in his anus. “This whole thing is your fault, anyway.”

This is roughly the third time he’s said something along those lines, so you remove your hand and sit back on your ankles, squinting at his upturned ass. “Okay, explain.”

Bakugou squirms, clearly antsy now that you’ve stopped trying to help him. “We talked about it last week!”

You just stare, at a loss. “Huh?”

He glares back at you, but when it becomes apparent that you genuinely don’t know what he’s talking about he’s forced to grumble, “When I asked you about Kirishima.”

You think for a long moment, mentally raking through every interaction you’ve had with Bakugou over the course of the week. You don’t remember ever saying anything that could have been construed as- oh. Oh, he’s gotta be joking.

One day last week, after a round of enthusiastically messy sex, you had been limping just a little. Bakugou, being the little shithead he was, laughed and prodded at you the whole way to the kitchen, and you had responded with an eye roll and an irritable “I’d like to see you take his dick, asshole.”

No reasonable person could ever have picked up your offhand remark as an actual challenge, but you weren’t dealing with a reasonable person right now. You go to cover your face with your hand only to remember that it was up Bakugou’s ass only moments previously, and quickly divert it away from your face. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Bakugou is flushed from the tip of his ears to his chest, a fetching shade of red. “You said you’d like to see it.”

“Oh, don’t pretend this is about what I want!”

“Well, obviously I want it too, but I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it!” Bakugou snaps back. The two of you are irritable and embarrassed and your patience is at an all time low, but then Bakugou draws back and shuffles around on his knees so that he can actually see your face. “Do you want it? Fucking tell me if you don’t.”

You stare back at him dumbly, a little mesmerised by the vulnerability in his face. Bakugou has never presented himself as anything other than invincible in your presence, so this little sliver of emotional honestly has you melting a little bit. You glance away and allow yourself a moment to really think about what he’s proposing. You know that what he’s really hoping to do is prove that he can take Kirishima’s ridiculous dick better than you can.

It’s like he’s come to the conclusion that because he has no chance of beating Kirishima in the dick size contest, he has to compete with you for the best ability to take it. Honestly, you’re okay with that -- mainly because you’re pretty secure in the knowledge that he’s gonna lose. 

You’d also be lying if you said the idea of getting to watch Kirishima fuck Bakugou didn’t cause you to heat up in between your legs.

“Hm.” You keep your face intentionally blank, watching Bakugou as he visibly fights not to fidget against the discomfort of both waiting for your response and the dildo up his hole. At last, you say, “Yeah. I want to see it.” Bakugou exhales, slow and steady, and nods. You don’t give him much of a chance to relax though. “Now, I need you to bend over properly. Face down, ass up. I need a better angle.”

Predictably, Bakugou doesn’t take that suggestion well, and it takes several more minutes of mingled arguing and coaxing before he finally sinks down into the requested position (though not without throwing a particularly venomous glare over his shoulder at you). You have to fight not to swear at him, because he’s the one that asked you for help here! It’s not as though you’re holding him hostage just so you can fish around in his asshole!

When he’s assumed the position, he buries his face in his arms. “Just get it fucking done.”

When faced with Bakugou on his knees in front of you, face down, ass up, with his back arched, you’re forced to face the rather irritating revelation that his ass is, like, perfect. It’s probably the perkiest damn thing you’ve ever seen in your life. You scowl at it, feeling both resentful and kind of turned on, before finally turning your attention to the task at hand. When you reach down to his asshole again, your fingers slide in with ease thanks to the lube and the fact that he’s already pretty well stretched.

Your fingers aren’t as long or wide as his are, but he still jerks against you as you poke around. His hips hunch forwards and he hisses like an angry cat as your fingers bump the base of the dildo, accidentally sliding it in a little further. “Fucking hell,” you murmur, brow scrunched in a deep frown, “How deep did you manage to get it?”

Bakugou bares his teeth in a grimace. “I ain’t blind, I’ve seen the size of Kirishima’s cock. I’m not stupid enough to go in without stretching myself out.”

“Just stupid enough to lose the dildo up your ass.” You mutter under your breath.

“The fuck did you just say?” Bakugou whips his head around to glare over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” You say hastily, deciding that you’ve probably pushed your luck far enough already. Your fingers jostle the dildo again and Bakugou lurches forward again, an odd pained sound leaving his lips. “Sorry, sorry!”

“Just-!” Bakugou’s voice is strained, and he’s buried his face in his arms again so that you can’t see him. “Fucking take it out!”

“I’m trying.” You grumble, trying not to sound petulant. If it were that easy, then surely he could have done it himself without your assistance! Bakugou grunts again when you finally manage to hook your fingers around the base of the dildo, but you barely notice as you excitedly say, “Hey! I got it!”

Bakugou braces himself, the whole length of his back flexing impressively as you begin to gradually pull the dildo out. It’s slow-going, mainly because you have to keep adjusting your grip so that it doesn’t slip right out of your fingertips, and Bakugou definitely doesn’t appreciate the slow speed. His fists are clenched tight and the flush has spread all down his neck and over his chest. His jaw is rolling constantly, and his eyes are squeezed shut. You actually feel kind of sorry for him, and you try your best to keep your movements as gentle and unobtrusive as possible.

That is, until you bump the dildo a little awkwardly and a downright filthy moan is torn from Bakugou’s throat. You both freeze, but Bakugou tensing up means that you nearly lose your grip on the dildo all over again. “Stop clenching!” You shriek, fingers scrabbling desperately against the hard plastic as you fight to keep a hold of it.

“Fuck you!” He yells back, but it seems like more of a reflexive response than anything else.

You shift backwards to try and get a better angle, and then you notice for the first time that his dick is hanging hard and heavy between his legs. “Bakugou Katsuki,” you say softly, watching as his back goes rigid at both your tone and your use of his full name, “How are you still hard? Are you seriously getting off on this?”

“No!” Bakugou snaps, his voice an octave higher than usual. “Fuck off! As if I’d get off to your grubby little fingers!”

“Grubby?” You sit back on your heels again, irritated. “Well, maybe I should just leave you here to take care of this little problem yourself, then. I don’t know why you called me in if my touch is so gross-”

“No!” Bakugou reaches behind him in an attempt to grab at your thighs to prevent you from moving, despite the fact that you haven’t made any real move to leave. “Just-!”

While he’s distracted, you give one quick tug and pull the entire length of the dildo out all at once. Bakugou’s whole body spasms as he lets out another strangled groan, and you don’t miss the way his dick twitches between his legs. You have to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing, because you have a feeling that Bakugou would not take that well. “It’s out!” you say, a little redundantly, and hold up the dildo.

Bakugou is still hunched over, his chest heaving slightly as he regulates his breathing. “Fucking hell.” He mutters without looking up. His hole is still loose and wet from the lube, and you have to look away as you feel yourself heating up with embarrassment.

You clear your throat pointedly, and raise your eyebrows when he finally turns to scowl up at you. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

“Hah? No.”

You scowl back at him. “I just did you a favour, dickhead.”

Bakugou totally ignores you as he climbs to his feet, wincing a little at the movement. You follow his lead, grumbling irritably, and when you’re both standing facing each other you’re hit with the realisation for the first time that Bakugou is very naked and still wet from his shower. “Okay then!” You say, probably too loudly. “Well! I’ll leave you to, uh, finish up?”

His dick is still hard, and you feel like it’s pointing accusingly at you. Bakugou is frowning thoughtfully at the dildo that’s still clutched awkwardly in your hands. “I’m still horny.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” You wonder if he’s asking for his dildo back, and then you realise that you don’t want it yourself so you shove it into his chest. 

He takes it absent-mindedly, his frown transferring to focus on you. “Are you turned on?”

“What?”

His gaze drops to your legs, and you’re embarrassed to realise that he’s caught your thighs rubbing together. Before you can say anything, he says, “I’m not judging. If you get wet from playing with my ass that’s your own business.”

“You’re such a dickhead.” It’s not really an answer, but you both know that he really doesn’t need one.

His gaze moves to the door, thoughtful, as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m ready if you are.”

It takes an embarrassingly long moment to catch on to what he means. Your gaze flicks from the door to the dildo. It is, admittedly, fairly large; it’s probably about ten inches long, and decently thick. It’s a small miracle that it ever got lost inside Bakugou’s ass. And yet; Kirishima’s dick is definitely larger.

There’s no way of telling Bakugou this without inadvertently starting an argument, so you let it go. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Bakugou grins, wild and anticipatory, and hops out of the tub. His erection swings heavily between his legs in a motion that’s almost obscene as he swaggers towards the bathroom door and flicks open the lock. When you move to follow him, he sticks his arm out and frowns at the length of your body. “Take your clothes off.”

“Huh?” You glance down at yourself. “Right now? Why can’t I take them off in the bedroom?”

“Because we’re going into this fucking ready, come on.” He tugs impatiently at your shirt.

“Okay, okay.” You slap at his hands before starting to tug your clothes off. It takes a bit of extra effort to get the damp jeans off because they’ve started to cling to your legs. Bakugou’s tugging hands are significantly more hindering than they are helpful, but eventually you’re standing naked with your clothes strewn all around your feet.

It takes effort not to comment on Bakugou’s impatience, and even then the main reason you don’t comment is because now there’s no dildo hindering his ability to murder you. When he yanks open the door, his shoulders are high and tense with anticipation, and he sets off down the hall towards the living room at a speed far too quick to be casual. You scurry after him, having the presence of mind to feel a little embarrassed and self-conscious at your total nudity as you both emerge into the living room. Bakugou, naturally, owns his nudity unrepentantly.

“Oi.” he says sharply, as eloquent as ever.

“You guys finally done? What happened, did Bakugou fall into the toil...et?” Kirishima’s voice trails off and pitches high as he turns his head from the couch, his eyes flying wide when he catches sight of you and Bakugou standing totally nude in the mouth of the hallway. “Uh. Whoa?”

“Let’s go, asshole, we’re ready to fuck.”

“What?” Kirishima looks vaguely as though he’s been hit by a metaphorical truck, but he jumps from the couch despite his obvious confusion. “Now?”

“Obviously, come on!”

Kirishima’s bewildered gaze flickers from Bakugou to you, and the most you can offer him is a companionably confused shrug. “Okay.” He starts to grin, as willing to go with the flow as ever. The front of his sweatpants is already beginning to tent, and you can’t help but chuckle at how easily aroused he is. “Yeah, okay. Great.”

Bakugou turns and marches back down the hall towards Kirishima’s room, securely confident that both you and Kirishima are following behind him. He’s right, obviously, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his cockiness. Still though; walking behind him like this you get a great view of his ass, and what a great view it is.

When you glance up at Kirishima, you see that he’s already staring at your bare chest. “What the hell happened in the bathroom?” He asks quietly. He’s still grinning, his arousal obviously unaffected by his confusion.

“I’ll tell you later.” You promise. You know you’re only adding to his bewilderment, but you really don’t think you can succinctly explain the situation in the time it takes to get from the living room to the bedroom.

As always, Kirishima just takes the whole thing in his stride. “Okay.” He agrees with a ridiculous amount of cheer, then claps and rubs his hands together like a cheesy movie villain. “Let’s get going!”

When you enter Kirishima’s room, Bakugou is already spread out on the bed; his cock is laying hard and proud against the gloriously defined contours of his stomach, and his bicep bulges as he cushions his head with one arm. He looks positively pornographic, and you falter for a moment. The act of simply looking at him seems indecent.

Kirishima, naturally, just bounds right up and leaps onto the bed. “Lookin’ good, bro!”

“How many times do I have to tell you to not call me that when we’re about to-” Bakugou begins furiously, but the rest of his complaint is lost as Kirishima practically tackles him into the mattress. You have to admit, as you watch the two of them grapple like children on the bed, you’re begrudgingly impressed by Bakugou’s unflagging hard on; he must be really excited for what’s to come. You suppose you can’t blame him, really. Considering the slimy feeling between your thighs, you know that you’re just as excited. After a moment, Bakugou successfully shoves him off. “Idiot,” he says, completely lacking any sort of heat, “Are we doing this or what?”

“You’re so impatient br- uh, dude.”

“Dude is not an improvement, you fucking-”

Kirishima ignores the beginning of Bakugou’s rant and turns to you, making ridiculous grabby motions. “Get over here, gorgeous!”

A slow, coy grin begins to spread over your face as you look slowly between Kirishima and Bakugou. They both seem to puff up just a little under your gaze; Kirishima squares his shoulders and grins unrepentantly at you, a very obvious wet patch beginning to form under the conspicuous bulge in his sweatpants, while Bakugou’s stomach flexes as he acts as though he had forgotten that you were there. You hum, stepping forward but stopping just out of arm's reach. “Not yet.” You decide, tilting your head to meet Bakugou’s gaze head on.

He grins, wide and challenging. His eyes are dark and excited, but he doesn’t speak up to clue Kirishima in on what he’s planning just yet. Kirishima, meanwhile, is pouting. “Aw, why are you teasing? Can’t you see we’re eager to go?”

“I can see that,” you admit, because honestly if you had somehow managed to miss the blindingly obvious evidence of their arousal there would have to be something seriously wrong with you. “But we’re going to try something different tonight.”

“Take these off.” Bakugou finally says, reaching out and snapping at the waistband of Kirishima’s sweatpants.

Kirishima jumps, startled, as the elastic smacks into the skin of his lower stomach. “What?” he says a little dumbly, looking from you to Bakugou. Even though he’s a little slow on the uptake, he begins wriggling out of his sweatpants until he’s left in his special supportive jockstrap. The jock is already pretty wet with precum, and even though it’s been specifically designed with large and unusual penises in mind, it’s having trouble containing his straining erection.

Bakugou gazes at the overworked fabric, his gaze intense and unwavering. “That, too.”

“Okay.” Kirishima agrees, breathless. He seems to have come to the conclusion that it’s best to put aside his confusion for the time being and simply go with the flow, which is probably the best for the time being. When Bakugou decides that he wants something, you just have to go with it; to do otherwise would be like trying to fight a force of nature. Apparently anything longer than instantly is too long for Bakugou, and he lunges forward to help Kirishima take off the jock. Bakugou’s idea of helping seems more along the lines of ‘tearing it off’, but Kirishima seems to find the urgency flattering. 

Once Kirishima is appropriately naked, Bakugou sits back and just looks at him. You understand that particular reaction all too well -- it’s easy to look at Kirishima’s dick and think that it’s super hot (because in all honesty it is) but it’s another thing when you’re looking at it when you know that it’s going to be inside of you imminently. Kirishima’s cock has a rather unique way of inspiring a fight or flight instinct in even the bravest of men, and you’re rather gratified by the fact that even Bakugou Katsuki isn’t immune to that little frisson of unease and self-doubt.

“Uh oh, second thoughts?” You ask, teasing softly. You know he’s not really second guessing himself, you know that he’ll push through every single one of his own personal hesitations just to prove a point, but you can also see that he doesn’t know how to actually go about initiating what he wants.

Predictably, he shoots you a scathing look. “Hardly, dumbass.” He says, but still makes no move to do or say anything else. Kirishima sits in front of him, also unmoving, looking innocently perplexed other than the enormous hard on eagerly leaking onto his lower belly.

Idiots, you think, impossibly fond of them both. “Eijirou,” you begin softly. Both of them look to you, and you don’t miss the poorly concealed look of relief in Bakugou’s eyes when you take control of the talking part. “You’re going to fuck Katsuki tonight.”

Bakugou makes a soft noise as Kirishima’s eyes shoot wide, though you don’t know if it’s because you’ve finally spoken his desire into existence or if it’s because you used his first name. Either way, it has his hand reaching between his legs to tug at the hard, unwavering length of his erection. Meanwhile, Kirishima looks utterly thunderstruck. His mouth hangs open, his jaw slack, as he slowly turns his head to look at his best friend. “What?” He says stupidly, his thought process clearly struggling to keep up. He always seems to be slower to catch onto things when he’s horny, and you wonder if it’s because of all the blood being diverted away from his brain to fill out his ridiculously enormous dick.

It’s usually pretty endearing, but you can see the way that Bakugou begins to shift a little nervously the longer it takes for Kirishima to properly react. “Yes or no?” You say quickly, before Bakugou’s antsiness gets the chance to manifest into outright impatience or embarrassment. 

“Yes!” Kirishima says quickly, but then his gaze darts down to his own hard on and back to Bakugou. “But- I mean. Can you- are you sure that you’re able to- I mean-”

It’s pretty funny watching him flounder to ask Bakugou if he’s sure he’s physically capable of taking him without saying something that Bakugou may take offence to, especially as Bakugou’s eyes begin to narrow. “What?”

“He’s already ready for you.” You decide to pipe up. Bakugou whips around to glare at you for offering that particular bit of information up, but you ignore it because it’s not as if Kirishima wasn’t about to find out as soon as he reached around to touch him, anyway.

“Really?” Kirishima asks, quietly awed. 

“Yeah, I’m not dumb.” Bakugou says with a quick wave of his hand. “And I’m also not a total masochist.”

“Okay.” Kirishima says. His face is slowly starting to light up as he finally seems to come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. “Wow. Okay, wow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever! Let’s go.” Bakugou snaps, his cheeks stained a pretty pink colour. “Stop fucking saying wow.”

You laugh, giddy excitement beginning to bubble up in your chest. You move to lean against the wall so you can watch from a fairly unobtrusive vantage point as Bakugou turns around so that his ass and back are facing Kirishima. They’re both excited for this, that much is obvious, but you still can’t quite shake off the belief that Bakugou has bitten off a little more than he can chew in this particular situation. Oh, well. Bakugou is the kind of person who learns by doing, you suppose.

Bakugou drops forward onto all fours, his back lightly arched and his face set and determined. If it weren’t for the fact that he was naked and hard as hell, you might think from his expression that he was about to beat down a particularly heinous criminal. Kirishima shuffles forward until he’s pressed flush against the back of his thighs, still looking vaguely as though he expects Bakugou to turn around and tell him that the entire situation was an elaborate prank. “You’re sure?” Kirishima says, his hand landing lightly on the outside of Bakugou’s hip and sliding gently up over his ribs.

“Obviously.” Bakugou drawls. Impressively, he seems to have wiped any trace of nerves cleanly out of his system. He looks like he always does when he’s about to face a challenge that he expects to crush; cocky, confident, and utterly single-minded. That particular look of sheer determination falters slightly as his gaze darts over to you, where you’re slouching against the wall watching. “The fuck are you all the way over there for?”

You raise your eyebrows. It hadn’t quite occurred to you that they might want you to take an active role in this, but Bakugou is frowning at you as though you’re a total idiot and Kirishima is making those silly little grabbing motions towards you again, his grin blinding. “Well, where do you want me to be?”

Bakugou narrows his eyes, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. “Under me.” It’s phrased as an order but his voice ends in an almost imperceptible uptick, so it comes out sounding uncharacteristically unsure.

You hum as you climb up on the bed and slip underneath him, so that his arms are braced either side of your head and his knees are positioned in between your spread legs. You grin up at him, but he looks away with a little huff -- within seconds Kirishima’s head appears over his shoulder, and he offers you a grin so wide that you can see just about every single one of his sharp, shiny white teeth. You laugh at his goofy face, and feel hot liquid excitement settle in your belly and begin to simmer there as the reality of the situation begins to dawn on you. Bakugou’s hard on brushes against your navel as he shifts, leaving a little trail of precum on your skin. You’re startled to find yourself marveling at how little precum he produces; it’s kind of startling how quickly you’ve become used to Kirishima’s little sexual quirks as normal. 

“Get on with it, shitty hair.” Bakugou snaps, the old nickname falling out of his mouth almost unconsciously. Kirishima’s hair is ungelled today, hanging loose over his brow and around his ears, although neither of you care to point this fact out. “Do you need me to draw you a map?”

Kirishima rolls his eyes. “Damn, man. Cool it with the attitude.”

You have no doubt that Bakugou is ready to snap back with another comment, but before he gets the chance to Kirishima’s large palms plant themselves down on Bakugou’s incongruously tiny waist as he ruts his hips experimentally against Bakugou’s ass. From your new and very comfortable vantage point, you get to see the look of realisation begin to sneak across Bakugou’s face; there is, after all, a pretty significant difference between deciding that you’re going to fuck Kirishima and actually feeling his cock press against you. The creeping cognizance of exactly how big Kirishima is can be nothing short of alarming, and nothing drives home that realisation faster than feeling the tip of his dick pressing against you.

If anything though, Bakugou’s initial moment of anxiety just seems to turn into more arousal. “Fuck.” He breathes quietly, his voice gone a little choked.

“How’s it feel?” You ask, half-teasing. You reach up and pet reassuringly at his shoulders and the side of his neck, feeling the solid muscle shift beneath your palm.

“Big.” It’s more of a groan than anything else, his scarlet eyes going a little glassy.

Behind him, Kirishima rumbles a low, genuinely amused chuckle. “I thought we already covered that.”

“Shut up. Just put it in.” Bakugou cranes his head over his shoulder, reaching to try and maneuver Kirishima himself. “Come on. I’m horny as hell, and I’m not gonna break. Stop fucking treating me like I’m [Y/N].”

You stiffen at that, and narrow your eyes. “I haven’t broken yet, asshole.”

“Whatever.” Bakugou rolls his head around to meet your scowl with a cocky smirk, “I’m gonna take it without whining like a bitch.”

Your irritated expression melts into a slow, anticipatory smile. “You’re gonna eat your words, Katsuki.” you croon up at him as Kirishima hooks his chin over his shoulder, biting his lip to stifle his own smile, “You’re gonna choke on them.”

Whatever Bakugou was planning on saying in return is interrupted by Kirishima dipping both thumbs into his ass and marvelling at the stretch. “Wow, you really did get yourself ready.” He says, and Bakugou exhales heavily as Kirishima grinds into him again. “Can I…?”

“Yes, just do it!” Bakugou unsuccessfully tries to shove his own hips back, his impatience written clear across his face.

Kirishima meets your gaze over Bakugou’s shoulder, his eyes wide and excited. ‘What the fuck!’ he mouths silently, still grinning. You smile back at him, trying hard not to laugh because Bakugou is also looking down at you. Being beneath the two of them is intimidating because they are both extremely large men, but also because they’re both staring at you and the weight of their combined gazes is really intense.

You can’t see what’s happening, but you know when Kirishima begins to press into Bakugou because both of their faces contort; Kirishima’s mouth drops open and his forehead crinkles, a ragged little moan escaping him, and Bakugou’s eyes shoot wide as he inhales sharply through his nose and apparently forgets to breathe out. “Oh god, oh fuck,” Kirishima whimpers, his head dropping down onto Bakugou’s shoulder. He’s trying to hold back to give Bakugou time to adjust, that much is obvious, but he seems a little more impatient than he usually is with you. While he’s being slow, his hips keep rutting forward in little aborted motions that lack the level of consideration that he usually takes with you -- but then again, Bakugou had insisted that he was able to take it.

You wonder if he’s beginning to second-guess himself; his jaw hangs slack and his eyes are wide and a little out of focus, his back beginning to hunch slightly as Kirishima presses forward. “Oh,” he grunts. His hands flex and fist into the sheets by your head, and he breathes hard through his nose. “Shit.”

Kirishima stills, though it’s clear that it takes a huge amount of effort. “Are you-” he pauses just short of asking Bakugou if he’s alright, and instead says, “Can I put in the rest?”

“The rest?” Bakugou says quickly, his voice several octaves higher than usual. “It’s not in yet?”

You start to laugh, and not even the murderous glare that Bakugou shoots your way can dampen your amusement. “Oh no, are you having trouble with just the tip?”

“I will kick your ass, dickhead. He’s entering somewhere that’s usually an exit, let him take it slow!” Bakugou plants his palm over your face and shoves you away so that you’re not looking directly at him before saying, “Whatever, put the rest in!”

Kirishima pays him no mind, instead peering at you over Bakugou’s shoulder. “I want you to feel good too.” He tells you, even though you can see the tension in his face and neck from forcing himself to stay still when every nerve in his body screamed at him to move. “Can Bakugou make you feel good?”

“I don’t know, can he?” You ask coyly, casting an eye down the length of Bakugou’s rigid body hovering above you; you doubt that Bakugou will have the presence of mind to pleasure you when Kirishima’s entire length is fucking inside of him. 

As expected, Bakugou’s nostrils flare. “Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.” he snaps, one hand already slipping between your legs to tease at your clit. He blinks in surprise when his fingers slip along your slit. “Huh. You’re drenched.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment, but Kirishima’s face lights up with a wicked smile. “Is she?” he asks. His hand winds around the front of Bakugou’s hips, and you think for a moment that he’s going to touch you too. But then it’s Bakugou who stiffens with a bitten-back moan as Kirishima wraps a hand around his neglected hard-on and guides the tip of it to rub against your slick, eager pussy. Both you and Bakugou go still, surprised, as Kirishima quietly asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” The word comes out on a moan as your head drops back to the sheets. You shift your hips and feel the tip of Bakugou’s cock slide just barely inside you. “Please!”

Bakugou swears, loud and vicious, as his hand comes to clamp down on your hip to keep you from fucking yourself onto him. “Fuck! Don’t do that, I’ll come-” he begins, but Kirishima chooses that moment to buck the rest of his own cock into Bakugou’s ass. The sudden harshness of the movement starts a chain reaction as Bakugou’s entire body is jolted forward, inadvertently pressing his own dick all the way inside you. He makes a sound like a wounded animal, his breathing ragged and heavy as his clutches at your hip. “Oh-! Shit, fuck, you absolute motherfucker-!”

Kirishima laughs breathlessly, his forehead dropping down to rest against Bakugou’s shoulder. “Taking too long.” he says, his words coming out syrupy and almost slurred. “God, feels so good…”

You can’t stop yourself from squirming a little, trying to get Bakugou’s dick just a little bit deeper; you had gotten used to the obscenely large size of Kirishima’s dick, and while Bakugou’s dick felt good, it wasn’t enough. Your squirming doesn’t get you very far though, because Bakugou’s grip on you tightens until he’s holding you firmly in place. “Stay still,” he grounds out, his voice ragged. His shoulders are hiked up around his ears as he breathes, and you wonder if it’s from pain or if he’s just so close to cumming right now that every touch straddles the line of too much. He swears again, and his head drops down onto your shoulder. “Feels like I’m gonna split in two.” He murmurs, voice tight.

“Poor baby,” you say, running a hand up along his shoulder blades. With his face buried into the crook of your neck like this, he’s unintentionally given you a perfect view of his arched back and raised ass. Like this, you can just about see where Kirishima is buried inside of him, the only part of his cock visible being the swollen, squishy area at the base. “If it’s too much, tell us, Katsuki.”

“S’not too much,” he mumbles into your neck, all the usual sharpness leached from his voice. “I can do it. It’s just… a lot. And you’re really fuckin’ soft inside, which isn’t fucking helping.” As if to emphasise his point he rocks his hips forward into you and then makes a weird little warbling sound into your ear.

Kirishima leans up and drapes himself along the length of Bakugou’s back, sending a wobbly grin your way. “I can’t- I have to-” His hips twitch, building into slow, rolling thrusts. “Bakugou- I need- Can I, Katsuki-?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou pants into your neck, the condensation of his breath gathering wetly against the flesh of your throat. “Yeah, fuck me.”

That’s all the permission Kirishima needs -- he lets out an excited little whimper before pulling out and shoving himself back inside all out once. The movement sends a jolt up Bakugou’s spine, and he sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t move his face from your throat. Kirishima begins a rough, quick pace, his muscled thighs flexing as he drives into Bakugou again and again. Every thrust seems to drive the breath out of Bakugou’s lungs, and he wriggles his arms under your shoulders and clutches you to him as the force of Kirishima’s fucking sends his whole body rocking into yours.

“So big, shit!” Bakugou manages to gasp out, finally regaining the presence of mind to breathe properly. 

“Yeah?” Kirishima whimpers, looking proud. “You look so good like this, man, you feel so nice wrapped around me. Does it feel good?”

“Uh huh.” Bakugou dips his head so that his face is buried in your tits, his ass raised even higher. “Fuck!”

Everytime Kirishima fucks into Bakugou he pushes Bakugou’s hips sharply into yours, until all three of you are essentially fucking each other in a daisy chain reaction. You writhe beneath Bakugou, squirming and working your hips back and forth along the length of Bakugou’s dick as he fucks you to the same rhythm that he’s being fucked to himself. “Harder.” You beg, hiking your legs up over Bakugou’s hips and squeezing tight as you’re both rocked by Kirishima.

Bakugou makes a muffled noise that is possibly encouragement. His hips oscillate wildly between thrusting back to meet Kirishima’s snapping pelvis and forward into your own wet heat, like he can’t decide between the two. There’s something impossibly intoxicating about being able to watch Kirishima positively ploughing into Bakugou’s ass, hunched over his back and clutching his waist and panting from the exertion, and simultaneously being able to feel how hard and fast he’s fucking him. You know you’re clenching up from the way Bakugou moans brokenly into your tits; your chest feels suspiciously wet, and you have a feeling that he’s actually being fucked so good that he’s drooling on you.

Despite the fact that Kirishima is jackrabbiting his hips into Bakugou so hard that Bakugou’s whole body is bouncing with the speed and force of it, Bakugou’s hips grind into yours at a slightly slower pace: his cock rubs insistently along every inch of the inside of your pussy every time a thrust knocks him forward again, grinding unrelentingly deep. Kirishima is visibly starting to fall into that mindlessly horny haze that means he’s getting close to cumming, but he still has the presence of mind to reach down and intertwine one of his hands with yours, the other gripping Bakugou’s hip as he guides him back and forth on his cock.

Neither of them are going to last long; it’s obvious from Kirishima’s desperate open-mouthed panting and the way he hunches over as his thrusting starts to turn messy, and it’s obvious from Bakugou’s raggedy breathing and his equally messy attempts to fuck further into you as he messily sucks at one of your tits. 

What you’re not expecting, however, is how quickly your own orgasm is creeping up on you. This particular position isn’t super conducive to your own pleasure, but being fucked like this while having such strong visual stimulation is nice -- the pleasure isn’t bright or burning or all-consuming, but it’s building, and rapidly. Kirishima turning Bakugou into a gasping, sweaty mess on top of you is apparently a massive turn-on for you, which comes as a mild (but very pleasant) surprise, and you can’t stop yourself from jamming a hand down the middle of you and Bakugou so you can rub frantically at your clit.

The heat and weight of Bakugou plastered to your front is blistering, and every time Kirishima whines and fucks him forward into you it sends little jolts of pleasure shooting through you. Bakugou moans into your breastbone, and it sounds like he’s choking, as if he’s being fucked so thoroughly that his body has forgotten basic functions like how to breathe, and you find it so ridiculously hot that you let out an answering moan.

To your honest surprise, you cum first. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you genuinely startled, your body convulsing and arching as your mouth drops open soundlessly. “Oh!” is all you manage to gasp out, your hand clenching tight around Kirishima’s.

“Yes, baby!” Kirishima pants, his face bright and excited and extremely aroused, as delighted as ever at the chance to watch you lose yourself. “Oh- shit, I’m gonna- I’m close-!”

Bakugou’s head snaps up from your chest all of a sudden, his eyes blowing wide. “Is it getting bigger? Fuck, is it getting bigger?”

The extra inch Kirishima’s cock tends to grow when he comes is a sign that he’s just about to spill, though you could have guessed that from the way that his eyes have gone unfocused as the motion of his hips stutter and falter. You realise that this is Bakugou’s first time experiencing it, since he’s only ever seen Kirishima come when he’s buried inside of you.

Kirishima, meanwhile, is babbling away about how good he feels, about how good you and Bakugou feel and how good you two look. He lets out a high-pitched keening sound and then his whole body locks up as he strains against his orgasm, his hips spasming wildly. Bakugou makes a muffled sound into the sweaty, drool-slick skin of your chest, as he comes inside of you in turn, apparently driven over the edge by the combined sensation of Kirishima’s engorging cock and the veritable buckets of cum being emptied inside of him. You can feel the sticky, gooey slickness of Kirishima’s cum dripping onto your skin and the bedsheets. As always, it makes a mess, but the three of you are slumped boneless against each other, with no energy left to spare to so much as move a muscle, never mind to clean up.

Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time, Bakugou reaches around to shove Kirishima off of him with a groan. A visible wince passes over his face as Kirishima pulls out, accompanied by a veritable gush of cum as it spills out onto the bedsheets. “Shit. goddamn, that is so much fucking cum.” Bakugou mumbles, slumping over into the sheets and twisting away from the mess. 

Kirishima worms his way over between the two of you so he can cuddle you both at once, his expression joyfully blissed out and lacking any sort of embarrassment. “I love you guys.” He says, nuzzling at the side of your sweaty face and patting affectionately at Bakugou’s shoulder.

You know from experience that the aftermath of taking Kirishima for the first time is uncomfortable at the least. You only have barely a moment to feel sympathy for Bakugou and his asshole before he looks down and grins hazily at you. “Told you I could take it.”

Your sympathy practically vanishes on the spot. “The only reason you could take it that good is because I practically fisted you beforehand.” You point out, totally irritated by the fact that he’s chosen to apparently forget about all your hard work.

Kirishima’s gaze jumps between the two of you, exhausted and bewildered. “What the hell happened while you were in the bathroom?” He asks, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. His gaze travels lazily over the cum staining all three of you, and obviously thinks of the way you two had arrived naked into the sitting room together to practically corner him. “Actually,” he amends, stretching his arms over his head. His dick is rapidly softening, though it doesn’t look any less intimidating; you catch Bakugou staring at it, his expression visibly awed as he clearly marvels at how it had ever fit inside of him. “I don’t think I want to know. You two are so weird.”

[egcdeath]

campers’ quarrel

pairing: steve rogers x reader (ft. mentions of other avengers)

summary: who would’ve guessed that a camping trip with your team and a man who you couldn’t stand would go south so quickly? (that’s a rheotical question.)

warnings: mentions of a broken bone, kind of enemies to lovers, swearing

word count: 2.4k

author’s note: i’ve honestly never gone camping before. hopefully that’s not to obvious. enjoy! 

You and Steve never really clicked. From the start of your work as an Avenger, he’d clearly been wary of you, and being new, you didn’t want to make his disdain any worse than it already was.

This didn’t go unnoticed by your teammates. The more adjusted you became to the team, the more the teasing from them grew. And unfortunately for you, it mainly revolved around your tense relationship with Steve.

Tony constantly paired the two of you up on missions, specifically ones where you’d have to pretend to be in a relationship. Sam and Nat would tease you relentlessly at parties, sitting the team down, looking at both you and Steve, then declaring that playing spin the bottle was a necessity.

With no thanks to your teammates behavior, Steve’s wariness towards you quickly turned into animosity. At least once a week, you’d both butt heads over something as small as leaving cupboards open, or as severe as not carrying your weight during a mission.

When this tension came to a head, Tony suggested that the team go on a ‘bonding’ trip to the woods. You were not completely thrilled at this, but you were a team player, and you knew for a fact that if you refused, you’d be accused of not wanting to be around Steve for an extended period of time.

That’s how you ended up in the back of a Subaru, looking at the window aimlessly while attempting to drown out the intense conversation between Natasha and Bucky over the efficiency of some gun you’d never heard of with the music in your headphones.

“Hey,” you felt a little tap on your shoulder, and you lifted one of the earbuds out of your ear. Steve gave you a right smile, “Can you turn it down some? I can hear your music from over here.”

You sighed softly. It was always something with the super soldier. “Sorry, Steve. Not all of us have super hearing.” You turned your music down regardless, but sent a bitchy text about Steve to Wanda after doing so.

“It doesn’t take a super serum to hear all of that,” Steve muttered quietly to himself. Fortunately, for the peace of everyone in the car, you didn’t hear the comment. However, you did notice Sam looking back and forth between you and Steve, and it did make you ask yourself what exactly you’d missed.

You really were not looking forward to this trip.

——

Soon after your car arrived, the camper containing the rest of your teammates made it to the campsite as well.

“All right guys,” Tony announced while rounding everyone up in a circle, “We need to experience the full camping experience. That means no powers to create whole campsites, looking at you Wanda. It also means now crushing small game with metal arms to feed the rest of us.”

“Wonder who that’s directed at,” Bucky muttered.

“Now, everyone has a part to play in setting up shop. Take it away, Pep.”

You couldn’t help but to giggle at the fact that Tony and Pepper were treating this like some sort of Keynote presentation.

“Thanks, Tony,” Pepper looked down at the clipboard she was holding. “Okay, Bucky and Sam, you’re on tent duty. Nat, Wanda, find us something to eat. Y/N, Steve, grab some firewood for us. Banner, Rhodey, once the firewood is here, you’re responsible for starting the actual fire. Good luck everyone!” Pepper said cheerily, before waving a dismissive hand to send you all off.

To say you were pissed about being paired with Steve was an understatement. But you refused to make a scene. You silently began walking behind Steve, who seemed to not want to interact with you either.

That’s how the majority of your trek for wood went. Silent and tense. You really just wanted to find any piece of wood, but it was just your luck that the ground was extremely damp, and all the wood that you came across was similarly damp and unusable.

It was strange, because time seemed to be going by very slowly, yet extremely fast at the same time. You swore that in a matter of moments, the sun was already making her way down, indicating that night was near.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” you broke what felt like the century long silence between the two of you. “Can we just give up already? I mean, we’re clearly not gonna find any good wood, and we keep getting further from camp, and we’re about to be in complete darkness.” “It’s fine, Y/N. I brought a flashlight and I’m sure that we’ll find something somewhere. Stop being such a downer.” You swore you could hear Steve roll his eyes as he went about crouching in the dirt in his search for fallen tree branches.

“I’m not being a downer, I’m being realistic. We need to go soon. We can just explain to the team that all the wood was bad,” you stood up straight, pacing around the area Steve was searching in.

“You really wanna let everyone down?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You’re not being dramatic enough. Look, I just found some dry wood. Come’ere and help me find some more.” He beckoned you over with his hand.

On your way over, you failed to notice a rather large log, and tripped rather forcefully over it, twisting your ankle dramatically in the process.

A sharp, searing pain traveled up your entire leg, and you yelped out in pain before falling onto Steve’s back, which hurt almost equally.

“OW! What the fuck!” You yelped before rolling onto the damp forrest floor.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Steve quickly turned around, and leaned over your sprawled body.

“I swear to God I just broke my ankle. And then your back decided to cripple me some more. Did you even feel it?”

“Of course I felt it. Hey, get up. Let’s see if you can walk. It’s probably not even broken,” He stepped back then stood up, extending a hand down to you to help you up. You hesitantly took his hand, somewhat nervous of what holding this man’s hand could awake in you, then attempted to stand up.

The moment you felt the weight shift to your left foot, you collapsed back onto the floor with a groan. The pain made tears well in your eyes, and you quickly became embarrassed with the emotions you were displaying in front of Steve.

“I can’t Steve. Can you call 911 or like, Tony or something?” You turned your face away from Steve’s eyeline so that he wouldn’t see you cry, but you knew the waver in your voice was betraying you.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket, then shook his head, “No reception. I’m sorry, Y/N.” The apology felt genuine, and it was kind of throwing you off. The air of annoyance that had seemed to always be between the two of you felt like it had faded away, for just a moment of seriousness.

“Can you, uh,” you awkwardly rubbed your warm cheeks at the thought of what you were about to ask. “Can you carry me back to camp?”

“I guess we don’t really have any other option.”

“Let’s just… not mention it. If anyone ever asks, this never happened. And you need to forget about it ever happening too,” as Steve began to scoop you up, you  added one more thing. “I’m not even joking, Steven. I swear to God I’ll make Bruce make an amnesia serum so you forget this ever happened.”

You could feel the laugh vibrate from Steve’s chest as he carried you bridal style. You just hoped he couldn’t feel the butterflies fly throughout your stomach.

----

A few hours into being carried, the situation began to lose its novelty, and you were beginning to become more annoyed as you realized that Steve was very lost.

“Steve, do you have any idea of where you’re going?” You questioned.

“Of course I do. Just have a little patience, okay?” He glanced down at you with furrowed brows.

“Mhm.” You said sarcastically. “I swear I’ve seen this exact tree like, three times already.”

“I’m sure you have.” He responded drily.

“What’s up with you and that attitude, Steve? You’ve always had a problem with me, and I never did anything to you.”

Steve scoffed, “what attitude?”

“That attitude!” You gestured wildly with your hands.

“Well, you’re no better. It’s not like you ever tried to be my friend or anything like that.”

“That’s not true at all. I remember during one of our first team bonding nights, I kept trying to talk to you, and you kept shrugging me off.” You pushed a finger into his chest.

“That’s because you kept asking me stupid shit, like if I’d heard of Beyoncé before or if I knew what garlic powder was. Put that finger away.”

You obliged and shrugged, “maybe I don’t remember that night as well as you do. But asking you questions like that can’t be the only reason why you dislike me so much.”

“I don’t dislike you,” Steve began while walking up a new path.

“So why do you act like that to me? How was I supposed to know that?” You looked up at Steve, and in the dark, you were still impressed by his sharp facial features.

“Can we talk about something else?” Steve glanced down at you.

“Yeah, let’s talk about how this is all your fault. If you weren’t so stubborn and just gave up on finding this damn wood, I wouldn’t be here with a broken ankle and spine. And I wouldn’t be feeling your heart racing like a hummingbird’s against my back.”

Steve blushed at this, he hadn’t considered that you could feel his heart racing. If your eyes weren’t deceiving you, you could almost make out a light red tint on his face.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Okay, Steve was definitely blushing. “If my heartbeat is annoying you so much, would you rather me leave you out on the ground for the bears to find you, and for you to become worm food?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.” He stopped in his tracks, then began to lower you down, excruciatingly slowly.

“Steve! Okay, okay. I’m sorry for pointing out your heartbeat. I just wouldn’t want your geriatric ass having a heart attack on me. Now hold me.”

The both of you erupted in laughter. You honestly wondered if you and Steve stopped being such sucks to each other, if you could actually form some kind of relationship. You could see yourself being good friends with the man.

Once you both stopped laughing, a comfortable silence flooded the air. It was late, and exhaustion was clearly beginning to plague both of you. “I’m so tired,” you whined, breaking the silence.

“Me too. Should we sit down somewhere and call it a night?” Steve’s pace began to dwindle.

“I guess. It’ll probably be easier to find our way back to home base in the sun.” Steve nodded at this comment.

“I’m gonna set you on this log while I roll out the tarp. Give me a sec,” Steve followed through with his statement, then looked through his backpack to find the blue tarp for you two to lay on.

You waited patiently for Steve to roll it out, then when he did, you slid onto it, wincing in the process at your throbbing ankle.

“You okay?” Steve asked, a genuine concern in his voice as he sat down next to you on the tarp.

“‘m fine.” You mumbled, throwing your arm over your face and sighing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you to the campsite.” Steve said softly beside you. “Really.” He closed his eyes and turned his head away from you as you turned your head to look at him.

“It’s okay Steve. I’ll probably be fine. Nothing a night in medbay can’t fix, right?” You smiled a bit, even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

Even in your uncomfortable position, sleep was quickly overtaking your body. Your brain was barely functioning at this point.

You reached a hand over onto Steve’s chest, and you once again felt his heartbeat pick up. “I’m sorry that I act like this,” you mumbled, your words slurring together. “I think you’re really great.”

Steve’s hand landed on top of yours. “You’re not so bad either,” he slurred sleepily. “You know, the reason why I act like I don’t like you is ‘cause I like you a lot. You’re pretty… cool. You’re pretty and cool.”

“Aw Stevie,” you sighed happily. Steve turned his head to you and gave you a smile that you could only faintly see in the dark. “Are you cold?” you asked abruptly, interrupting the moment you two were having.

“Yes! I thought it was just me. It’s like negative 500 degrees out here-“

“Spoon me. Let’s conserve our warmth,” you hummed out, and Steve quickly and happily obliged. With that, the both of you were out like lights.

——

“Fucking finally!” Bucky cheered, making your eyes open abruptly.

“And to think we thought we’d lose our lovebirds forever.” Rhodey laughed.

You had to blink a few times before your vision (and brain) finally cleared enough to acknowledge what was happening in front of you.

The sun was up, and your whole team had showed up in front of you and Steve, watching you two spoon affectionately in your sleep.

“Ew, what?” You scooted away from Steve, then groaned at the persistent throbbing of your ankle. At this point, Steve shot up as well.

“What is going o-“ his eyes practically bulged out of his skull when he saw his teammates. “Oh shit.”

“You two have lots of explaining to do,” Sam laughed at the situation.

“Let’s start with this: I think I broke my ankle yesterday. So who wants to help me get back to camp?”

——

You sat at the kitchen table of the camper on your way back to the compound, a mug of lukewarm coffee sitting in your hands while you contemplated the weird ass night you’d just had.

While deep in your thoughts, a seat was pulled out, and none other than Steve Rogers sat right down in it.

“So, are we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?” He asked you with a bit of a smirk.

“No. I don’t think we will.”

[myonepiece]

EEEK I'm in love with your yandere post!!!! Would love love LOVE to see your other ideas!! And if you have time and want to, would you be willing to write on other characters as yandere (not necessarily "natural" yanderes), like Luffy if he was? Thanks! Take care!

Natural Yanderes in One Piece

part 1

description: characters who are yandere without an au! + characters bordering yandere because of a certain trait(s) (ex. extreme possessiveness)

warnings: yandere, mentions of mental/emotional & physical abuse, mention of death and suicide

a/n: I’m so glad you liked that! I was worried I would get a some mean anon comments because of it 😅 I was actually planning to do Luffy for this anyway, I thought about him a lot 💕

-when I say darling I am referring to crush or S/O

p.s I have more for both but I kind of summarized it and the important parts

Luffy

yandere rating: 3/10

harmless, mild obsession/possession (“where were you? what were you doing?”), dependence (”please don’t leave me”)

I only put a yandere rating for the sake of this topic, but Luffy is not a yandere. he just can’t register as one in my head. he does however, have one or two yandere characteristics/behaviors, the only reason I’m saying they’re yandere is because he the ones he exhibits- like possession and dependence - are escalated to the point of bordering yandere-ism.

Luffy isn’t aware of these slightly more intense actions, he has no experience with relationships so he doesn’t really know how people are supposed to act- what’s normal and healthy. now I also have to stress, Luffy would never hurt his S/O (same as Sanji).

Luffy is typically clingy with his crew so neither him nor the crew see a problem with his extreme clinginess with his S/O, and truthfully I don’t either. what does catch my attention is that the clinginess can become dependent and possessive all in one. for example he gets so used to sleeping with his S/O in his arms that he becomes dependent on it, he has trouble sleeping or can’t sleep with out them in his arms. he becomes accustomed to knowing where his S/O is and what they’re doing as well as what they have been doing, so when he doesn’t know where his darling is he freaks out and gets out of control, he gets angry and scared.

he wants someone to love him, he might not know that’s exactly what he wants, but he craves it and when he does have it he’s willing to chase it and do everything to keep it with him.

he keeps his S/O with him at all times he can, touching them in someway. because no ones really told him his clinginess is bad or his S/O might find it annoying and suffocating, he doesn’t think that his S/O has a problem with it and he thinks they’re joking when they tell him to stop. if he has his arm around his S/O and they try to move, his hold tightens- and if they try to leave his embrace at all then his arms wrap around them multiple times. then when they try to tell him to stop he thinks they’re playing and he starts laughing and teasing them. 

his mild obsession stems from his fear of his S/O being in danger or leaving his crew. when his S/O disappears and he doesn’t know where they are then once they get back he attacks them with questions of where they were and doing, but he keeps a casual tone except for a hint of concern, no one sees an issue with this because it’s normal for Luffy.

the biggest factor of his yandere-like characteristics is that he’s very clueless- as in he doesn’t know how to do relationships and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. the only things he knows about relationships are what he’s heard from people and he only gets a few of their words so he oly has the scribbled outline of what a relationship is. that being said, he’s heard people asking where their S/Os are or were, keeping them very close for a long period of time, and he thinks that no matter how extreme he takes these actions to with his S/O, it’s healthy and normal. he has a sense of what love feels like and he knows he loves his darling, but when he feels a stronger type of love (obsession if you will) he thinks he just really really loves you. he thinks his actions make you feel loved, that you see them in the same light as he does: normal. 

he’s lost a lot of important people which makes him subconsciously worry obsess over his darling’s whereabouts and them in general- it makes him more lcingy and protective of his S/O

Boa Hancock

yandere rating: 6/10

harmless, delusion (more extreme wrong idea type), monopoly (”who were you talking too?”), restraints (”let’s stay together forever! you’ll never leave my side!”), final (”I don’t need a world where they aren’t!”), worship (”I’ll do anything for you! I’ll kill for you!”), removal (”you don’t need them, you have me”), dependence

you all expected her to be here right? it’s completely obvious she’s yandere by the way she interacted with Luffy. I’m going to start this off with a sample of the relationship- it has the same/very similar dynamic of Joker and Harley Quinn, Hancock being Harley and S/O being Joker. of course subtracting the specific things Joker has Harley do, though Boa would still do those if her darling asked. but Harley’s unwavering loyalty and delusion of Joker’s true feelings and intentions are similar to Boa’s regarding her darling. so you can use Joker and Harley as a light outline of Hancock and her S/O’s relationship.

her darling and her are already in a relationship when they meet- as in Boa thinks they are and sees them as hers. one thing, that I admire about this relationship I might add, is that Boa sees herself as her darling’s just as much as her darling is hers- she is theirs and they are hers. now same as Luffy and Sanji, she would never hurt her S/O, it makes her cry just thinking about it. 

restraints, she isn’t as extreme about this as other yanderes would be, she won’t force anything or kill her darling’s friends/acquaintances but she’ll try to keep her darling away from them as well as keep them away from her darling, she’ll try to tell her darling that their friends are aren’t good for them- another thing Hancock does is guilt tripping, ex. telling her darling that they aren’t spending much time with her because they’re hanging out with friends too much. she’ll try to make her S/O think that they don’t need friends. and they have her (removal). she’ll find reasons and excuses for her S/O to be with her and she pulls them along when she has somewhere to go (to keep an eye on them and because she craves their attention and presence). 

now in the rare scenario that her darling isn’t with her, she’ll go to find them herself and once she does she’s not letting them go for the rest of the day. she always asks what they were doing or what they are planning to do, it comes off as a normal conversation, her only intention being to listen to her S/O and ask about their day/wellbeing- but unknown, to even her sometimes, she’s seeing if there’s anything she needs to be worried about.

she would literally do anything for her S/O, even if they don’t ask or even hint, they just mention it or Hancock “reads between the lines”, she’ll do something- it’s quite sweet to think about though. she always does it with only the intention of pleasing her S/O and making them happy. 

for a darker trait, she’s a mild “final” type, the idea of her darling not wanting her or being with her is physically painful and it makes her agonizingly upset. if her S/O were to die she would not handle it well and I genuinely wouldn’t put it past her to take her life. her darling becomes such a big part of Hancock’s life, she shares every moment and secret and feeling with them and the idea of not being able to do that is excruciatingly painful and sad. 

[hannahthedragon]

I was talking with my friends about the knew champion, though we all have some mixed opinions the general consensus was we're pretty excited. One thing lead to another in our rambling and I mentioned that why would she make a doll with the royal crest? Was it for her or maybe a child? It was a sad theory but even in the trailer Isolde and Viego are both looking at her stomach. Eitherway struck with inspiration I wrote a fanfic around this idea.

⚠️So major warning!⚠️ This features pregnancy and the death of the carrying mother. Don't read if these are sensitive topics for you!

◇~~~~~~~~~~~~~◇

Viego sat at the head of a long table, advisors, treasurers and practically everyone else with any authority in the kingdom sat along the sides. They all debated back and forth about what to do next, something about the financial situation of the kingdom, but their king couldn't bother to listen, instead, he sat there with his head resting upon his hand. He dreamt of his queen, his lover, and the only girl who could seem to hold his attention, Isolde. She had been feeling sick lately, was she going to be okay while he was away? How dare this meeting keep him from more important matters, he thought. 

"Your highness." A voice snapped him back to what was happening around him, along with a tap on his shoulder. Kallista, his trusted General was who the hand belonged to, she stood behind him like a shadow whenever his kingly duties were to be fulfilled, being a far larger help than Viego ever was. "What is it you want to do?"

"Whatever you all can come to agree on. It matters not to me." Viego half-heartedly replied.

"You are the king. And this is your kingdom. It does matter to you." The treasurer replied, barely holding back his anger. Luckily however someone else spoke up suggesting a compromise of their plans, taking the heat off Viego for the time being. Finally, after what felt like an excruciatingly long time, the meeting was over, the king being the first to stand and leave. 

Although Kallista followed at first for his protection, he waved her off, requesting to be alone or for better phrasing, alone with his love. She did just that, having other duties she could attend to with the time. Now alone he entered his chambers, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of Isolde. She sat at the end of the bed seeming to be waiting for him, she looked happy, though nervousness filled the cracks in her smile. "Viego… there is something that I need to tell you."

His smile morphed to concern as he shut the door behind him, moving to sit by her side, "what is it my stars?" 

She took a long pause and a deep breath, then spoke, turning to look Viego in the eyes. "We're going to have a child." A warm smile grew on her face, clearly happy about the announcement. 

Viego seemed just as happy, leaning over to wrap his arms around her, kissing her on the neck. "Finally someone to love just as much as you." He whispered in her ear. Finally leaning away getting his joy contained he asked a question. "How can you be sure?" 

"All the signs were there. So I went for testing. All the best they could offer. Every single one said yes. I should have told you sooner but I wanted to be sure."

"The surprise was well worth the wait." He said, unable to stop himself from kissing his love again.

"I'm sure she'll be strong and kind. Just like you." Isolde ran her fingers through Viego's long hair, hoping to see his face better. 

"She?" He raised his brow.

"Yes. Many of the tests pointed to a girl."

"That's lovely. I'm sure she'll be just as beautiful as you are." Isolde could only reply with a light-hearted chuckle at the complaint, something she received from Viego daily. 

"I can't wait to meet her." She smiled looking down at her stomach, still yet to show any sign of a child. 

"She'll have a kingdom when we do." He said looking as well. Despite the arrogance he knew he was not fit to rule, he never was. This was his brother's throne, cast upon him unexpectedly. He didn't know what to do. So he could only hope to raise their daughter to be better. The lovers spent the rest of the night talking about their future, and the future of their child. This had to be the second happiest day of their lives, only beat by the night of their wedding, and just as they did then, the two fell asleep in each other's arms. 

Time passed, though the king, holding little concern for those of his kingdom made no effort to announce the news to the kingdom, word had gone around inside the castle of the Queen's expectancy. Though little of them could be excited with the kingdom's trouble still being front and center, this only serving to distract the king more. Isolde remained blissfully unaware of these issues while Viego actively ignored them. Mutters went around of how this problem might have been avoided if the king had chosen to marry another royalty as they advised, the kingdoms being able to partner and help each other. But his heart was set on the peasant lady he had fallen for at first sight, and no one could deter him. 

Now Isolde sat in her workshop, a small room filled with her many supplies from her days as a seamstress. A hobby she had kept even when ascending upon the throne. It was obvious to anyone close to her she loved her days before belonging to the kingdom, often dressing in surprisingly casual clothes when not among the public. Simple dresses with aprons atop them. All sewn herself. Even Viego couldn't convince her to ease up on this part of herself. Despite having more than enough resources and power, Isolde sat alone in her workshop sewing small garments for her soon to be daughter. Though it was possible the test could be wrong, such a thought never even passed her by. Blinded by the idea of raising a princess with the world ahead of her. Never having to work long tiring nights as she had done before her new life. 

A candlelit up the simple room, as a music box slowly turned on the desk as music, the same she had received as a wedding gift, and treasured since that day. Isolde and Viego dancing to its tune on late nights, twirling endlessly. Having now made enough clothes to last the first year of the child's life at all stages, Isolde had to start making other things for her to fill her excitement. Laying on the table in front of her was a doll. Cute as she could possibly make it. The spitting image of everything Isolde thought of a princess, something she struggled to see herself in. She was almost done, large bright blue yarn hair filling her head, a frilly dress adorning her body, and button eyes smiling towards the sky. She was just finishing the last touches, sewing to it the ribbon brooch she wore with many of her formal outfits. It carried with it the crest of the royal family, a sign that she would be part of theirs. Viego entered the room just as the music came to a slow, the door creaking open to announce him. 

"Hard at work my love?" He asked, laying his hands over her shoulder to look at what she could be making now.  

"Yes. I just want everything to be perfect when she's here." Isolde smiles, brushing his hands off and standing. Bringing the doll across the room to sit on the pile of clothes she had made. 

"You shouldn't have to work so hard, let others do the work for you." 

"I know, I know. But I enjoy this. Really. This is more than I could have ever asked for." Isolde commented, looking over the collection of colorful fabrics she had access to. 

"Just don't tire yourself," Viego advised, stepping behind her once more resting his head on against hers, one hand resting on her stomach, which had now formed a small bump to it. "Come. Rest with me. You can return here another day." 

"Mmh." She nodded in agreement, resting her hand atop Viego's, they were tired and worn from her grip on the needles and scissors she had worked with all day. She blew out the candle and left the dark room by the side of her beloved.

However the day she returned to her workshop didn't come. Instead collecting dust along the shelves of clothing and the doll of the little princess. The kingdom had enough of the king who was casting their land into ruin, attempting to strike him down, they failed, taking Isolde instead. Though the dagger only grazed her arm, the strong poison acted quick. She wasn't quite dead. Not yet. Instead in a state of lasting sleep. This was a twisted hell for Viego, watching his queen's life drain day by day, as he could do nothing about it. He never left her side but commanded everyone who could to search for a cure. He was advised against this, begged to stop as every last resource of the kingdom went into saving her. He didn't care. What was the point of having a kingdom if his queen couldn't rule it by his side? If his daughter wouldn't be here to see it. 

Everything he could do wasn't enough though. Isolde silently passed one night, Viego by her side. He couldn't accept this. Never. He had seen magic before. Even rumors of immortality, something he remembers hearing his uncle ran to pursue. He knew there was still a chance. He grew more hateful by the day, locking himself away with his wife's body. 

Finally, Kallista, his most trusted General had arrived back from her searches. The torment of the situation had made the king come to despise her, the one who deflected the attack to his stars. He would have killed her on sight if not for her news. An island of blessed water, able to heal the queen. Though when she heard the news of the queen's fate she resisted helping, she gave in. Viego carefully lifting Isolde's body, he carried her to the docks, sailing off to their last hope. His last hope for his family and the last hope for Isolde's hard work. 

The rest of the kingdom joined the workshop in collecting dust after that.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

After Your Love | Sam Winchester

✦ pairing — Sam Winchester x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1k

✦ summary — Sam and you come to a silent understanding.

✦ request — Could I request a canon universe Sam Winchester, with F12, F14, F49, and F50?

✶ F12 - “I love you more than coffee.” distant gasps

✶ F14 - “I’m tired and my bed feels so empty without you here.”

✶ F49 - “That night you kissed me and I thought I might melt.”

✶ F50 - “From the moment I saw you, I knew I was in love.”

✦ warnings — light angst, mentions of alcohol, fluff.

════════════════════════

You were dreading the moment you would reach your street. Tiredness wasn’t enough yet to motivate you to arrive at an empty home.

Ironically, it really was your home and you would never dare to say you didn’t consider it as such.

Well-lit streets weren’t a norm around your block. You were extremely lucky that yours was the exception. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that there were a lot of children around.

Children made you feel less lonely when they ran across the street, laughing and squealing. You didn’t get to watch them or hear them often, only on the weekends, and even then your work kept its grip on you.

The place welcomed you in all of its coldness. The day had been nice, not too hot but not too cold, yet the living room was freezing.

It was in moments like this that you missed your small one-bedroom apartment. It didn’t feel lonely even though you were always by yourself.

This wasn’t that different, you still lived on your own. But Sam visited often, there was no better way to spend alone time than at your place.

Everywhere you looked at, a piece of him reigned. A stack of books, his favorite mug, that warm jacket...

You missed him. Something you were also used to. You would never complain about his line of work, he had been honest to you about it even before dating. You just missed him when he was out of town, plain and simple.

Sam put a lot of effort into the relationship, you felt comfortable with him because of that.

He would call soon, he always did. So in the meantime, you took a shower and got ready for bed.

You were barely finished with your nightly routine when your cellphone rang. Sam’s photograph lit up the screen.

Giddy, you accepted the call and greeted him, “Hi.”

“Hey, you.” He sounded tired.

“How’s it going?”

He sighed heavily. “It’s going.”

You made a face. That meant he would take longer than usual.

“How was your day?”

“Long,” you admitted. “The weekend will be a nightmare.” You got under the covers as you continued speaking, “I think I’ll visit my mom on Sunday after work.”

Sam sounded like he liked the idea as he said, “Say hi to her from me. And have fun with her.”

“I’ll try.”

His excitement faded. “What’s wrong?”

Inwardly cursing yourself for letting him know how you were feeling without even saying it, you shuffled on the bed. “I’m tired and my bed feels so empty without you here.”

He huffed a small and sad laugh. “I know, babe. I miss you too.”

“You’ll make it up to me.” Or at least you hoped.

“I will, but I gotta go now. I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, trying your hardest to hide your disappointment. “Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you more than coffee.”

You heard Dean distantly gasp in the background before the line clicked.

════════════════════════

It was raining, therefore children were out with their parents, having fun with the puddles. Their glee, while endearing, wasn’t the reason why you were at peace. Not entirely.

You finally felt safe. After almost two excruciatingly long weeks without him, you had him back.

A free day, rain, hot coffee, a movie, and Sam. What else could you need?

The bliss of being in Sam’s arms could never be compared. He had a natural warmth to it that had little to nothing to do with his body.

You were sat with your back against his chest, with your hands on top of his as his breath tickled your skin.

“Wanna know something?” The question vibrated around the room, mixed with the tapping of the rain on the ceiling.

“Anything.” You would never deny him. Sam’s opinions were treasured by you, just like his random comments and his bad jokes.

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I was in love.” He let out a small laugh. “I sound like a teenager, but it’s true.”

You smiled, leaning the side of your head against his shoulder. “Yeah?”

He hummed. “Remember when we celebrated Dean’s birthday next town?” It was your time to hum. “That night you kissed me and I thought I might melt.”

“I’m surprised you remember that. You were so drunk...”

Alcohol had helped you to get bold that night, and although at the moment the tiniest part of your brain told you you would regret it, by the next morning you were happy you had gone for it.

But Sam had been in a worse state than you. He had told you it was okay to kiss him, but he hadn’t really acknowledged that night when he officially asked you out.

“How could I forget?”

“Drunk me tends to forget some stuff,” you playfully teased him, giving him a light kiss on the jaw.

Sam tightened his grip around you, forcing you to shift so you wouldn’t hurt your neck.

“You know I love you, right?”

“I’ve never felt so loved before.” As though he had realized something, he added, “Not romantically, at least.”

“I’m glad,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. It was an odd position, but you didn’t really care. “I have lots of love to give you still.”

“You better,” he said breathily, “I don’t want to know how life would be after your love.”

“Oh, Sam,” you sighed. He was more romantic than you, definitely. And you only loved him more for it. “I don’t want you to know that either.”

You couldn’t promise things would be perfect or that you would make it until the end, but you were aware that Sam knew that so you discarded the idea of ruining the moment stating the obvious.

So instead you peppered his profile with kisses and relaxed against his warmth, feeling him relax as you came to a silent understanding.

[herstarburststories]

Leather for Two

Kinktober day 9: Bondage

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

@theicariantouch said: bondage but it's your reader binding her arms behind her back and riding dean til kingdom come & emphasis on the physical ache and how she is unable to really control the speed because that's all on dean

Warnings: smut, p in v, riding, restraints, power play (kinda), sub & dom dynamic

You aren't one for leather. Maybe you are a classy girl of silk, or anything that didn’t hurt animals, but you had to admit that nothing felt better than the rough texture of leather knotting your wrists together behind your back, purring against your skin in silent accusation.

You have always been so bold to step up and tell the boys to ease it up on the legit boots, and now look at you, getting off to the sensation of the same material scathing against your skin.

There’s just something about how raw all of this is. The black leather strip pin your hands together behind you, an obvious state of vulnerability that you had never let a man see before, and your breasts are strained forward because of this position. You are helpless, and, for once, you enjoy it.

Dean isn't complaining either. If anything, his Grecian lips slightly parted — letting out the most beautiful hymns of grunts and incoherent moans — is proof enough that he's having a lot of fun with this.

How couldn't he?

You are naked on his lap, riding his cock like you want to win a race. Your hands are pinned against your back, head thrown to the side only to expose the pretty neck that's already a mess of bites and marks that he left here.

The most interesting part is your boobs bouncing as your hips move, right in front of his livid green eyes. They are begging to be touched as is every other inch of your body, crying out like a siren’s call for the only sailor at sea: him. Yet, his cock inside your tight cunt sang to you too in the unique way your walls tighten around his hardness, swallowing all of his dick and hungry for more. Your pussy was made for Dean to fuck; there was no doubt about that. It was the perfect hole for his dick. Still, the most interesting part had to be how readily you gave yourself to him — wrapped in leather like a fucking Christmas present under the tree.

Dean couldn’t wait to rip you apart.

His rough hands are instantly on your hips. You don’t know if it's because you're unable to choose anything or the fact your body is trembling in need for anything that Dean could give, but you swear to all the angels that you can feel each one of Dean's bruises when he touched you tenderly. The sweetness of the act soon melted into the nature of wild abandon when he squeezed your sides, guiding you into moving the way he wanted you to. Your back's hurting from the position, but it isn’t even comparable to the growing ache of not having his cock mess you up the way you wanted it to.

He’s excruciatingly slow. You attempt to move your hands instinctively, trying to catch a glimpse of him and rush this for both of you. Needless to say, it only ached your wrists a little more. Dean Winchester is experienced enough with tying up monsters that this rope isn't going away unless he wants to. You needed his cock deep inside you, slamming into you like the two of you had been fighting. You needed him to make you feel like your pussy was always meant to take him.

Dean kept a quiet rhythmic despite his cock throbbing inside you for more. Your needy cunt squeezes him as though begging for faster, rougher, and deeper.

“Dean…” He loves the way you say his name, as though he were the focal point of some olden tale of heroes. It’s intoxicating; how needy you are; how sure you are that he would give you what you needed; how he finally made a home out of a woman.

Nonetheless, this wasn't the point about this experience. So, all reward you get is a slap to your pussy.

“You're gonna play by my rules.” His gruff voice is tripped into something more than just dominance, but his own tilting self control not to fuck you senseless. He'll endure, even when you cunt takes him so good and warm, his cock sliding with ease in your heat all wet to welcome him. “Understood?”

You can do it, Dean.

A needy, loosy moan came in return to his words, followed by a obedient nod, while Dean remained fucking you slowly.

“I wanna hear you say it. Did you understand? Did I make myself clear?” His voice is growing in quietude, a tone so similar to an argument that only caused you to get more turned on. His anger was always attractive in all the dangerous, twisted ways. As if his ferocious anger woke the savage in you. The Winchester's tough hands placed on your hips, guiding an exhausted pleasure towards your orgasm. Dean allowed one of his hands to find their way to your heat, digits pressed to your clit as the Winchester moved you up and down his cock with one firm hand, deliciously degustating your swirl of hips. That was his girl.

You blurted out, afraid he would stop rubbing your clit if you didn't, “Y-yes. I understand, Dean.”

You want to throw the fucking rope away, put your hands on his shoulders and fuck yourself in his hardness. But you can't. All you can do is to move your hips as he says, and be thankful for it. Because Dean's in control, and he's a hunter enjoying the insides of his prey. Your body is his playground tonight, relish the ride.

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[purdybaby]

@inuvember: November 7th, 2020

Topic: Kikyo

No I Did Not

Kikyo sighed silently as she watched Inuyasha’s nervous approach. Everything about his body language screaming he no longer wanted to answer her summons but felt the need to do so against his better judgment. An addict needing a fix. Just one last hit. Something to help him escape reality for just a fleeting moment.

And he hated himself for it. It was obvious he cared deeply for his reincarnation- probably more than he’d even admit to himself. That he was trying to figure out why he kept coming back for more when the only thing he ever received was pain. Kikyo knew coming to see her caused him to strain the friendships he’d created. Strain the relationship with Kagome he’d literally die to protect. It was hopelessly sad that he was incapable of moving on.

“Inuyasha...”

The half-demon took a deep breath as he began a somewhat random line of questioning.

“Whatever it is can wait. I need to ask you something,” he interrupted and Kikyo waited expectantly.

“Have you ever tried to kill Kagome?” Inuyasha asked wearily as he stopped what she presumed was meant to be a safe distance away, “When you trapped us in that illusion a few months ago. Did you mean to kill her?”

“Did she not tell you herself?” Kikyo asked indifferently - it was hard to feel much of anything anymore. Well except hatred. And longing. But all souls trapped in such an unnatural way would undoubtedly be...

“She won’t tell me. And then a few weeks ago I smelled you on her again, stronger that time, but she wouldn’t tell what happened then either,” Inuyasha admitted begrudgingly before sighing and pressing onward, “But I need to know.”

“And why is that?” Kikyo asked calmly and Inuyasha fidgeted.

“Why won’t she tell me or why does it matter?” he asked - an obvious bite to his tone.

“Either.”

Inuyasha set his jaw and glared.

“Why she won’t tell me is her business. I can’t speak for her,” he finally responded after obviously giving his answer some deep thought, “And it matters because I promised to protect her. I need to know if I’ve got you to worry about.”

“Obviously my actions did not concern you at the time,” Kikyo hummed as she gave him a condescending smirk, “That was many months ago and this is the first time...”

Inuyasha shook his head and clenched his fists.

“I just...I just didn’t want to...I didn’t want to believe that...”

He paused and swallowed thickly.

“When you did all of that, was it because of me?” he followed up hesitantly, “Because you hated me then?”

Kikyo didn’t affirm or deny any of the accusation and in response, Inuyasha’s ears plastered against his head. The shock and then pain in those expressive amber orbs rather surprising.

“Did...”  Inuyasha seemed to struggle for a moment before pressing onward, “Did, at any point, you know, since you came back....did you love me? Even a little?”

Kikyo knew this question would one day come. Inuyasha certainly would not like the answer.

“No. No I did not.”

One could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed before Inuyasha sighed shakily - obviously trying to shake this latest emotional blow off like it was nothing.

“Well...” he began thickly before clearing his throat and trying again, “Well that isn’t important. What matters is that you’re not the only one I promised to protect. And...and Kagome...”

“I don’t see how any of this is relevant,” Kikyo interrupted with a bored sigh, “Any vow you made unto her is secondary. Why does your promise to her....”

“It just does dammit,” Inuyasha snarled as he squared his shoulders and demanded with a wavering voice, “Now answer me dammit. Did you try to kill her? That day with the illusions did you...”

“Yes.”

Deflating visibly, Inuyasha nodded like he knew that was the answer all along but pressed onward with his head held high. Trying his very best to look powerful and confident. He failed, of course, but...

“And did you try to kill her a few weeks ago?”

Despite his attempts to seem intimidating, there was something so defeated about his countenance. A sadness she had never seen before but it was the mention of the incident to which he referred that somehow tugged at her unbeating heartstrings. 

’Then why did you save me?’

‘Because a certain guy we both know would be heartbroken if you weren’t around.”

‘Same for you.’

“No. No I did not,,” Kikyo offered quietly as a bit of her lingering feelings for the boy standing before her decided to come out to play. 

“But she got hurt. I know she did. She...she smelled off like she does when...,” Inuyasha trailed off as he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “What happened then?”

“Ask her yourself.”

“I told you she won’t tell me,” Inuyasha huffed in frustration as he gestured at the undead priestess, “Because she has it in her head I’ll...maybe she thinks I’ll let her die to save you or something stupid. That I won’t take her side.”

“She is correct.”

Inuyasha paled slightly and didn’t comment for a excruciatingly long minute.

“Do you...do you know how many times I’ve defended you?” Inuyasha huffed as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Left my friends for you? Put them in danger because of you? I...and all this time you...”

Inuyasha ran his claws over his scalp.

“I loved you, ya know?” Inuyasha continued as he huffed and looked up at the canopy, “I would’ve done anything for you and you just...since you came back you’ve just shit all over me and...I mean did you ever love me? Not since you got brought back but before...don’t you remember that at all?”

A memory of the love she once had for him helped make her path clear. In that moment, Kikyo realized she’d have to break this man before he could move on. Before he could find true happiness.

Kikyo let out a long sigh.

“No. No I did not,” she replied and she watched his heart shattered. The pain in his eyes nearly making her take that statement back but that would be a disservice.

“You don’t mean that,” he replied numbly, “You wouldn’t be saying these things if...if...”

Closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to compose himself, he mumbled so softly she almost didn’t hear.

“This never woulda happened if I just...”

A hollow ache grew in the hole where her heart should have been as he quietly continued to berate himself. Why must he be so endlessly forgiving? That very fact was one of the reasons she had loved him so much in life. Under that gruff demeanor, Inuyasha had such a soft heart that had suffered far too much for one lifetime.

A soft heart that deserved some happiness for once instead of only pain.

“In any case, I have summoned you here to...”

The half-demon let out a shuddering breath as he finally opened his eyes.

“I’m not going to respond again,” Inuyasha cut her off firmly, “I’m not going to leave her again or let her get hurt. I can’t change the past but...but I do have some control over the future.”

“You have no choice in the matter ,” Kikyo taunted as she tried to keep her tone as convincing as she could, “You promised to...”

Vibrating with checked rage, Inuyasha clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. For a moment, Kikyo thought he’d take back his promise but instead the response she got was pathetically sad.

“Thats not what I meant!” Inuyasha barked bitterly before trailing off and trying again, “I swore to protect you so I will, alright? I just meant I won’t come for no rea...”

“Your words are...”

“Kikyo the only thing I have is my word,” Inuyasha talked over her in an angrier tone than Kikyo had ever heard directed at her, “I promised to protect you. So I will If you’re being attacked, I’ll defend you and I’ll kill Naraku but that’s it. I’m not going to follow you for...”

“You will come for reasons other than protection,” Kikyo opined, “And you cannot protect us both.”

A fierce determination suddenly flowed behind his eyed.

“Watch me.”

“You will fail her as you failed me,,” Kikyo answered as the memory of her love became more pronounced. There needed to be a final nail in her coffin. A push to make his way forward clear. For far too long, he’d held onto a memory. Held onto a dead woman who couldn’t love him now even if she tried. Love no longer existed. Just a shadow of the emotion. A nostalgic memory.

“No I won’t!”

Must he be so stubborn. Inuyasha was making this far more difficult than it needed to be.

“Kagome will die due to your negligence,” Kikyo taunted in that same cold, indifferent tone, “And because she is a pale imitation of myself. Her powers...”

“I’m not going to fail her,” Inuyasha bellowed angrily, “Why are you being like this? What did I ever do to you?”

“You failed me. And you will fail her, She means nothing to...”

“Just shut up! You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Inuyasha snapped, “Kagome means everything to me. I’d die before I’d let her get hurt.”

“Then I feel sad for you,” Kikyo countered softly, “Throwing away your life for women who don’t love you. What a pathetic existence.”

Inuyasha’s nostrils flared as hurt overrode his judgment.

“Kagome is different. She was born for me,” Inuysha scoffed before he could process the ramifications of his hurt fueled rage, “And I was born for her. You ever try to hurt her again and I’ll end you.”

With that he turned to leave without sparing even a glance over his shoulder. A few short weeks later Kikyo’s predication came true. Kagome very nearly died while he went searching for a corpse. Unable to stop himself he’d put Kagome in the way of danger unnecessarily and nothing had ever terrified or motivated him more.

Strangely, this turn of events brought about a strange peace in the undead priestess. Almost comforting in its own way. One less thing trying to trap her to this world. In order for either of them to move on, Inuyasha had to let go of the past which could not be changed and look towards the future where Kikyo prayed happiness waited for him.

[stufftippywrote]

Not My Type (fake dating AU) part 3

Part one | Part two

Help

He texts Lardo as soon as he can get free. It takes a handful of "no comment"s and some apologetic nods, but eventually the reporters lose the fire in their eyes, everyone goes back to being their dignified banquet selves, and he can fight his way out into the hallway.

Out here, the lights are lower, and the sounds of music and people are muffled through the wall. It's something of a respite for Jack, who sometimes gets caught up in scenes like this; too much around him and nothing to focus on, no object for him to put up tunnel vision around and block out everything else. In a crowded stadium, there's the puck, the feel of the ice under his blades. At a party like this, there's ... nothing. Just light and sound and too many people.

An answer finally comes from Lardo. Why help?

I don't know what to do. His thumbs feel huge and clunky on the thin skin of the phone.

Did you meet him?

He just manages to hit the Y key and the send button when he's interrupted by the clearing of a tenor throat.

Bitty -- Eric, Jack tries to correct himself, but Bitty really seems to fit much better -- is standing there, bowtie a little askew. He's glaring a little -- not full-on mad, just sober and determined. Jack feels the stare like it's the crack of a whip. He straightens up.

"Mr. Zimmermann, isn't it?" Bitty says. Jack nods. "Well, Mr. Zimmermann, I must have scoured every inch of that room for you."

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm--" He's stating the obvious like an idiot. "I've been out here."

"Do you want to keep doing this or not?" Bitty asks. "Are we done? I'm trying to help you out, but if you'd rather I don't, I have dishes to wash."

A pang of regret stings Jack. That's right, this guy is doing him a favor. It's for one night, and then he never has to see him again. "Right," he says, "Sorry."

His phone vibrates in his head. He looks down to see the text from Lardo:

Then, **flirt.**

Jack clears his throat and meets Bitty's eyes. "Do you ... want to dance?"

----

There are murmurs and a few more camera flashes as they make their way to the dance floor. It's not much of a dance floor; a jazz trio is doing old standards and only a handful of couples are old-style dancing, having polite conversations as they sway and turn in slow circles.

Jack reaches for Bitty, takes his shoulder instead of his waist because of the difference in their heights. It feels odd -- it's not the way he danced with girls in middle school, before juniors. Come to think of it, that may be the last time he danced, period.

Bitty seems to think nothing of it. He lays his fingertips lightly on Jack's waist, a barely-there touch, and offers his other hand. Jack reaches out to take it, but Bitty smiles -- a half-smile, coy as the moon behind a cloud -- and holds it back a moment. "Are you sure?" he half-teases. "Not too much?"

Jack's answer is to take firm hold of his hand and swing them around before relaxing into the rhythm of the music. If he's going to have to do this, he'll do it right.

Several bars of music go by, the two of them just sort of swaying there like a pair of reeds. It's awkward. It's so awkward. Bitty's smiling, but it's a fake smile now, for the benefit of those around them. Jack doesn't even think to smile himself. He tries to concentrate on the one-two-three-four of the music.

"Well," Bitty says through the false smile, "you're going to have to talk to me, sweetheart. Or at least smile. If you want them to buy this."

Jack shakes himself. "Um. Yeah. Sorry." He tries to smile, but it feels even faker than Bitty's. "So, Lard-- I mean, Larissa told you the situation?"

"Yes, I heard all about it." Bitty pauses. "It's brave, what you did."

"I -- thank you." Jack's heard that before, and he's not sure what to do with it. He's not doing this to look like a hero. The whole point is it shouldn't take bravery to say who you are.

"I mean it!" Some genuineness seems to warm the everpresent smile, a softness in Bitty’s nut-brown eyes. "If there'd been someone like you when I was growing up, maybe-- well, maybe I could have gotten into hockey."

"Not a fan, eh?" Jack may be stereotyping, but he's not surprised. Bitty doesn't exactly look the part of a hockey fan.

"It's so violent." Bitty actually shudders. Jack can feel him tremble. "But I was never into contact sports. I barely made it through peewee football."

There's something about that visceral reaction that tickles Jack. At least this guy is reasonably easy to talk to, when he's not smooching people out of the blue. "Why'd you agree to do this?"

"A favor for Larissa," Bitty shrugs, his shoulder rising slightly against Jack's hand. "She's the one who got me into this catering gig. Truth is, this is a side hustle. I own a little bakeshop down near the river, but it barely breaks even. So I owed her one for getting me into the black. Besides--"

He cuts off, smile disappearing, and a bit of color touches his cheeks. "Oh, gosh, listen to me ramble on."

"Besides what?"

"Nothing, I'm just going off at the mouth, never mind me."

Jack frowns. "Now I want to know."

Bitty exhales noisily. "She might have told me you were my type. Which you're not," he adds pointedly.

At this, Jack has to crack a smile. "Hah! You're not my type either."

But is that really true? The longer Jack dances with Bitty, the more familiar and pleasant the feel of his hand becomes. His shoulder's corded muscle underneath Jack's hands, and while he talks a blue streak, Jack doesn't hate the sound of his voice. And there's something about the way his chin turns up, the angle of his face just now...

"Well! As long as we're clear," Bitty says with a smile that's half-mean. "And it's just for tonight, anyway. I don't know what she thought she was setting up here. I only agreed to one evening."  He sniffs haughtily, then grins.

"I appreciate it," Jack offers, unsure what else to say. So that crushes that almost-hope, just now. Bitty's declared this a one-shot. Anything else Jack might have started to feel is immaterial.

"Look, Mr. Zimmermann..." Bitty's gaze drops to the floor. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I surprised you like that. I thought for sure Larissa would have told you what I'm like."

"No." He imagines no warning could have prepared him for that initial greeting, though. "It's okay, though. You were trying to do your job."

"And I've learned my lesson." Bitty lets Jack sway him through a half-turn. "See? I'm letting you lead."

He is letting Jack lead, and Jack wonders what he can get away with. Spinning him around? Dipping him? He has a feeling Bitty would be up to all of it.

And for a moment, what Jack really wants to do -- just for a moment -- is to pull Bitty closer. Just to see what he'd do. To see the way Bitty's body feels against his own. To see if he could slide his thumb across Bitty's collarbone to his neck, tilt that chin up just a little further -- see if he couldn't really make the papers talk about him --

Jack shakes himself out of it. Where did that come from? It's not like him at all, to think these things, and he wonders if he had a little too much wine tonight. Besides. He already knows he's not Bitty's type.

-----

After the song ends, and Bitty returns to tend to his catering duties, the night drags on long and boring. Jack doesn't know many people here, and the small talk with those he does know dries up fast. But Jack lingers. If he can't do anything more, he can at least give Bitty the proper thanks for what he's done for him tonight.

He finally catches up with him as the last of the attendees start to file out. "Thanks for tonight," he says, reaching out a hand to shake.

Bitty grabs his hand and holds on. "They're still watching," he says with a glint of amusement in his voice. "Look like you like me."

"I -- yeah, I guess they are." Jack casts his gaze to the side; not many people are left, but those who are there are certainly looking. He takes Bitty's other hand. "Anyway, I'm leaving. And I wanted to say thank you."

"Well, you're welcome," Bitty says, "but I have to admit it's gonna be a relief to slink off back to anonymity. People looking at you so much! How do you handle it? I have creepie-crawlies all up on my skin." He shudders and makes a face that Jack can't help but laugh at.

"Anyway. I just wanted to say good night. And thanks again."

"Mr. Zimmermann." There's something sober in Bitty's eyes, but also something teasing. A spark inside a storm. "We should probably say good night like a couple."

"Like a-- oh." Heat blossoms behind Jack's cheeks. "You mean--"

"Don't worry," Bitty says, "it'll be over quickly."

"I -- yes." The heat is itching up into his scalp now. "Okay." He closes his eyes and braces himself.

The second that follows is excruciatingly long. He expects the sensation on his cheek again, wetness and pressure. At least he's expecting it this time.

But what comes is light as a feather, settling on his mouth ike the whisper of a butterfly. It's sweet, and impossibly soft, and for less than an instant Jack's tasting it, dying to reach out for more.

It ends before he's ready. Bitty pulls back, and Jack looks at him with blank eyes, lips tingling and the taste of sugar inexplicably on his tongue.

"Real couples don't kiss on the cheek," Bitty informs him. "Well, I think we've sold it pretty good now. Have a good life, Mr. Zimmermann! I hope I was helpful."

Jack's tongue is heavy, leaden in his mouth. His lips slowly part. "Yes. Uh. Thank you."

And then Bitty turns blithely away and heads back to his work, and that's it. It's all over. And, just as planned, Jack will never see him again.

He wishes that thought didn't make him feel quite so sad.

Part Four

[outer-bnks]

Two Burning Hearts Are Dared to Break (JJ x Original Character) Ch. 2

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

After a night of comforting JJ, Elle wakes to him gone with no explanation. The Pogues meetup to discuss what they’re going to say in their police interrogations. Elle hatches a plan to get them out of trouble.

Picks up after 1x10.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of child abuse/bruises from child abuse, grief, death of a loved one, talk of juvie/police interrogation

A/N: The Pogues don’t know that Rafe killed the Sheriff in this fic. Also does anyone know if the Pogues actually found out about Rafe killing her?? I don't remember seeing John B or Sarah tell them - only Topper. Anywhoo, this picks up directly after Chapter 1. 

A fight/angst scene between JJ and Elle coming in the next few chapters. 

Word count: 1,979

feedback/comments/likes/reblogs really appreciated

---- A dull, insistent buzzing woke Elle, rolling onto her side to grab her phone from her bedside table. Incoming call: Kie kie.

Still half asleep, Elle answered groggily, her head still resting on her pillow “Hello?”.

“Hey babe...uh.. how are you?”, Kie asked cautiously.

Elle sighed, the reality of their situation slapping in her in the face. The storm. John B. Sarah. JJ. Looking to her left, her bed was empty, the blonde haired boy missing.

“Alright as I can be I guess. How are you, did you manage to get any sleep?” Elle questioned, knowing that Kiara’s brain constantly working in overdrive wouldn’t have allowed her the rest she needed. The rest they all needed.

“Uhm, I got a few hours in. Oh, do you know where JJ is? Pope messaged me saying we should meet at the chateau before the questioning to sort out our stories, but he couldn’t grab a hold of JJ”. Elle sat up her, her head feeling as though it was throbbing. She looked around her room, searching for any sign that JJ was still around. Whether it was from the two hours sleep she’d gotten after she’d spent the night holding JJ, whispering words of affirmation whilst he attempted to calm down, or from the idea of having to face the police after the major shit show that had occurred over the past few days.

“Yeah J spent the night with me, but”, moving from her bed and down the stairs, she checked each room she passed to see whether he had snuck off during the night or had woken up and left her so not to disturb her, “It looks like he’s gone”. Now in the kitchen there was no sign of JJ. No plates or pans left over from a possible breakfast, no sound coming from the TV, Elle thinks if he was still here the TV would definitely be on. JJ had always preferred some kind of sound on to distract him when he’d been feeling any other than his usual self.

“Oh ok.” Kie paused, racking her brain to come up with their next steps. “I’ll check by all our usual places and meet at the Chateau in 20?”.

“Yeah, sounds good. See you then”, Elle didn’t waste any time, heading back to her room to get ready for the, probably disastrous, day ahead of her. 

------

The drive to the Chateau felt excruciatingly long. Jumbled thoughts ran round and round in Elle’s head, trying to conjure up a plan that would decriminalise John B and get Ward the retribution he needed. 

Pulling in, a wave of emotion rushed over her. Her heart sinking into her stomach, their place of sanctuary, that held every memory that the Pogues had together, was now empty of life and cold.

Pope enveloped Elle in a tight hug as soon as he saw her in the doorway. Placing his face in her shoulder and squeezing slightly before letting go. 

Wordlessly, they moved over to the couch on the porch, taking a seat. Elle broke the silence first “Is Kie here yet?”.

A flicker of pain crossed Pope’s features, looking towards the water, “Nah, she’s still looking for JJ”. Silence followed, guilt crawling its way into Elle’s thoughts. She had one job. To make sure JJ was okay. And she couldn’t even do that. “Right...” she answered, looking out to the water, bringing her bottom lip into her mouth out of habit.

“Where would he even take off too? I thought he stayed with you last night?” he questioned. Elle studied his face, trying to decipher if he was mad. But there was no accusation or underlying frustration in his tone. 

Elle nodded, “He came back to mine after the, uh.. the storm. Woke up to Kie’s phone call and he was gone”. Pope picked up on the sadness that was laced in her answer, wondering if there was more to the story than she led on.

As if on cue, Kie’s four wheel drive turned into the driveway. Elle’s eyes not leaving the car, waiting to see if she had found him. 

Begrudgingly, JJ exited the passenger side. Wearing a clean white t-shirt that clung to his toned body, his usual style of shorts and boots adorning the lower half of his body, his trusty red hat pulling his hair out of his face. He must’ve gone home and changed. Elle felt herself release a breath of relief at the sight of him, simultaneously cringing at the thought of him leaving her this morning to return to that house, instinctively searching his body for any visible signs of new marks or bruises.

Stepping up onto the porch, Kie and Elle embraced in a hug, a rare moment of affection between the girls. Usually they showed their love for eachother through words and actions, but at this moment Elle didn’t know if there were any words left.

JJ walked straight past the pair, nodding at Pope in acknowledgement and plopping himself down in the chair to the left of the couch. Taking a puff from his jule and blowing out while keeping his eyes on the backyard.

Kie took Elle’s seat next to Pope, Elle choosing to stand against the railing of the fence. Glancing at JJ, she studied him, waiting for him to turn and acknowledge her. She felt a strong pang of hurt when he made an obvious effort to keep his eyes on anything but her, his jaw clenching and releasing a breath of smoke.

The tension went unnoticed by the others as Pope spoke up “We need to get our story straight before we get dragged into questioning. They’re gonna want to know everything, and I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to go to jail for being an accessory to crimes, for stealing, for trespassing or for any other illegal shit we did. I can’t.”

“Why can’t you, it’s not like you’re getting that stupid scholarship anyway”, JJ responded. An air of arrogance and disregard around him. 

Pope scoffed in disbelief, “Yo that scholarship was the only thing that was going to get me out of this fucking place! And I lost it, for the gold that we didn’t even get. I didn’t lose that scholarship for me, I lost that scholarship for us!” 

“Pope” Kie tried to mediate.

“No, Kie. Just because I lost the scholarship doesn’t mean I’m happy to spend the rest of my life rotting away in a cell.” Pope responded, looking between his friends.

Silence filled the group.

“You’re right Pope.” Elle interjected. 

Pope abruptly turned his head to her. “What?” 

“You’re right. You have so much potential. You actually can get out of this place. You’ve got too much to lose. You shouldn’t have to take the blame for this.” 

Pope and Kie shared a look of confusion, JJ still maintaining his avoidance of his friends looks.

Kie, tied her hair up, the North Carolina heat getting to her “What do you propose then E?”

Elle looked at each of her friends, organising her thoughts. Did she want to go through with this? Was this going to come back to bite her in the ass? Definitely. Was she willing to go through with this to save the only friends she had left? Of course. “I’ll take the blame”.

“What, are you serious?”

“No, you’re not doing that!”

JJ was the only one not to speak out. His gaze finally shifting from the horizon to look at her. She searched his face. For anything. Any kind of emotion, but found nothing.

“I’ll take all the blame. Look, if we admitted that we all had a part in this, then we’ll get in the shit. It’ll be put on record, and even though we’re minors, this county isn’t going to just forget it. We’ll probably get tried as adults, where they can really charge us for the things we’ve done”.

“E, stop.”

“No Kie, listen”

“If Pope admits to it, his future is gone. It’s hard enough to get into a college when you’re from the Cut, not to mention a criminal from the Cut.” Pope nodded, agreeing with her points, but his face held a look of slight concern.

“Same with JJ. And after already being arrested so recently, he’s sure to get thrown straight into juvie. And if not, he has to return home.” Elle’s tone showed that returning home might be just as bad as juvie, if not worse.

JJ rose from his seat, pointing a finger at her, “Don’t Elle. Don’t bring my Dad into this” maintaining eye contact. “We got ourselves into this shit, for someone who’s dead, why should we pay for it at all? They killed him and Sarah. Not us. I say we don’t speak at all. Pull that ‘5th amendment or I’m waiting for my lawyer shit’ that they do in movies”.

Everyone felt the blow of him speaking about John B and Sarah like that. But Elle considered his idea. It wasn’t horrible. If none of them spoke, what would they do? What could they do? But surely, knowing Shoupe and the way they relentlessly chased John B down, there was no way they were gonna let Peterkin’s murder fly under the radar. 

“That’s not going to work JJ. They’re going to keep pressing and pressing until one of us cracks. Why not beat them to it?” Elle responded.

“Wait, why can’t we just blame John B and Sarah?” JJ asked, oblivious to how inconsiderate a question like that was right now.

Kie shot back immediately, “For killing the Sheriff? Because they didn’t do it you asshole!”.

JJ rolled his eyes, his ignorance clear in his words, “No not for that, just for everything else, they’re already dead, what’s the har-” he asked with a shrug. It wasn’t what he was suggesting, it was how he was talking about them. 

Kie cut him off “Stop saying that they’re dead, you don’t know that JJ!”

JJ shook his head in disbelief, “I do know it. And so do all of you. You’re kidding yourselves if you think they could’ve survived that fucking storm. Don’t be so gullible, they’re never coming back!”.

Raising his voice, Pope shouted, “Enough!” cutting off the conversation.

A deeper sombre mood fell over the group. No one knowing what to say or what to address. The conversation had led to the truth that none of them wanted to acknowledge.

Ignoring the outburst, Elle continued, “Kie, if you admit it, you’re going to be in deep shit too. Except you have Kook privilege and will still probably be able to get into college, or go overseas to build homes and schools in third world countries. And that’s the same for me. My Dad’s probably already hired some fancy hot-shot lawyer and hopefully we’ll get off with a slap on the wrist. As long as they know we had nothing to do with Peterkin, and we tell the truth about Ward, we’ll be fine”.

“Yeah, sure, we’ll be fine” JJ sarcastically laughed, sitting back down on the chair. But instead he kept his eyes on Elle, making her shift with nerves.

Focusing on Pope and Kie, Elle quirked an eyebrow, silently questioning if they agreed with her idea. Looking at each other, a silent conversation was had. 

“Ok, I’m in. But my parents are going to ground me for life when they have to pick me up from juvie”, Kie stood, walking up to the railing beside her and taking a deep breath. 

Elle turned to the boys, waiting for their disapproval. JJ took another puff of his jule, blowing the smoke out and avoiding the group. Pope sighed, knowing that this was the best option they had right now. “Alright, talk us through the plan then, Mrs 007”.

----

let me know if you want to be on the Taglist, this is going to be a longgg fic haha

Taglist: @mybillyhardgrove

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Forget Me Not (2/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: Angst

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely feedback, I truly appreciate it! This series might turn out to be 15 chapters long unless I decide to tweak it. But anyways, I hope you enjoy this next part!

Part 1

There was a stillness in the air once you opened your eyes, a stream of daylight blinding you as it slipped past between parted curtains. Your head throbbed excruciatingly, but your body felt numb. When the bright light subsided, you glanced around the room but saw it as a blurry haze. Slowly, your vision settled, only then realizing where you were.

You were in the hospital.

You blinked once, then twice, trying to recall what had happened, but nothing was coming to mind. Deciding that your memory would return eventually, you took a moment to survey your surroundings. You couldn’t do much else, not when you have an IV needle hooked into your arm and were also attached to a monitor.

Fresh floral arrangements decorated your space, bringing some much-needed vibrancy inside the dull and gloomy room. In one corner, you caught sight of a sleeper chair with a white blanket folded neatly on top of a pillow. You wondered to yourself who would choose to stay the night, sleeping on that small uncomfortable recliner.

Other than those, there was nothing else remotely interesting about the room. As you laid in bed, you matched your breathing to the lulling sounds of the machine beeping at your side. You stared up at the cold white ceiling, counting each gray speckle that you could find on the panels above. You had reached fifty before you were startled by the door opening, a nurse then stepping inside the room.

“You’re awake,” the woman commented, quickly walking over to your bedside. She was around the same age as your mother, perhaps slightly older. Her graying hair was tied neatly into a bun with a few loose strands framing her face. Her kind eyes glanced over yours, and you felt calmness washing over you. “My name is Sam. I’ve been checking up on you for quite some time now.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat was so dry that your voice came out as a rasp. The nurse took notice and immediately filled up a cup of water from a nearby dispenser then brought it over to you.

“Thank you,” you said once you finished drinking.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she responded, taking the empty cup from your hand and setting it to the side. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you answered her after thinking the question over. Aside from that and the pounding headache, you were also confused. You still didn’t know why you were in the hospital.

“It’s the pain medication. The drowsiness is one of its nasty side effects, but it does the job,” she spoke, giving you a gentle smile.

“It’s a good thing I can’t feel anything else right now because my head alone is killing me.”

With a nod, Sam then went on to check your vitals. Judging by her relaxed attitude, everything seemed to be just fine. She jotted down a couple of notes on her clipboard before her attention returned to you. “I’ll let your doctor know that you’re awake, but it’s really a miracle that you’re up right now.”

“Why do you say that?” You asked her curiously. “How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks, dear,” she informed you, much to your surprise. “You got into a pretty bad car crash. Don’t you remember?”

You shook your head slowly, a puzzled expression appearing on your face. “No, I don’t.”

Sam sighed, clicking her pen closed. Her smile suddenly fell, and it worried you. “I’ll fetch Dr. Henderson so that he could do a full evaluation on you.”

“Okay,” you told her as she fluffed the pillows behind your head and smoothed out your blanket. “Are my parents here?”

“Yes, they are,” she nodded her head. “Your father’s waiting right outside while your mother and your partner are downstairs at the canteen. Don’t worry, I’ll let them know that you’re awake. They could all probably use some good news right now.”

Sam’s smile returned, reassuring you one last time before she headed to the door. That’s when you realized what she had just said.

“Wait, excuse me,” you called out, and Sam stopped in her tracks. “I-I don’t have a partner. Not anymore, at least.”

She furrowed her brows as you stared at her quizzically. Maybe, she might have mistaken a family friend for one, but you weren’t sure. You had just broken up with your boyfriend a month ago, but for a good reason. He was an asshole who had made your life a living hell, and it wasn’t until recently did you find the courage to end the relationship. Because of that, you were fairly certain there was no way he would be here along with your parents.

“Sure, you do, honey. I mean, that’s who he introduced himself as,” Sam replied. “He never stops talking about you, and it’s very obvious that he loves you. Ever since you got here, he’s never left your side. You definitely got yourself a keeper.”

“But I don’t… that’s impossible,” you mumbled. Again your mind tried searching through your memories, but doing so only triggered a searing headache, making you groan out in pain.

“Darling, you need to relax,” Sam warned you. “You may be awake, but you’re still healing.”

Once the migraine passed, your eyes welled up in tears. It was frustrating to not know what was going on. It felt as though chaos was swirling inside of your head, and you couldn’t understand why it was happening.

“Shh, honey, it’s okay,” the nurse murmured softly, calming you down. “Do you want me to turn on the tv? Maybe you should watch something while I get the doctor in here. It can help ease your mind up a little.”

“Alright,” you muttered, and Sam plugged in the television, handing you the remote.

She excused herself shortly after as you surfed through the channels available, trying to find a show or a movie to distract yourself for the time being.

Coming across a live weather report, the broadcast had left you baffled. The reporter talked about the temperatures in Los Angeles this week, which was unusual since you were living on the other side of the country. Not to mention, the date shown on the graphic on the bottom of the screen was wrong.

July 11, 2020, it had read.

But wasn’t it the winter of 2015?

---

Keanu had gotten used to the stale taste of cafeteria food though he didn’t have that much of an appetite to begin with. He would usually order the day’s special, eat one or two bites of it before pushing it off to the side. He must have lost ten pounds already from skipping meals these past three weeks.

“Keanu, sweetheart,” your mother Nancy began, noticing that once again, he wasn’t eating. “Y/N needs you to be strong for her when she wakes up.”

Letting out a sigh, his eyes then flickered up to the woman sitting across from him, a slight frown on her lips. She was right, of course, but he just couldn’t help it. Every time he visited the hospital and saw your unconscious body, it was like a piece of him wilted away each day.

Truth be told, Keanu was much worse in the beginning than he was now. He had spent the first several nights sleeping in your room, or at least, he attempted to. It was difficult staying asleep when every night, he was forced to relive the night of your accident. Unfortunately, it would always end up the same way with you losing your life, and Keanu not being there at your side.

The media had caught wind of what had happened and made it much more stressful not only for Keanu but for your family as well. There would always be paparazzi waiting by the entrance of the hospital, ready to bombard him or your parents with invasive questions and take pictures of them. Security had done the best they could to keep them off the premises, and Keanu felt horrible for subjecting your parents to one of the downsides of fame.

But both your mother and father had been understanding, and they didn’t want Keanu to worry more than he needed to. If it weren’t for them, he would have never left the hospital for any reason. They had convinced him to go home each night, reassuring him the best they could that you would be there the next morning.

Keanu listened and did just that. He was able to get some sleep in as the nightmares started to die down. He would ride his motorcycle for hours on end to clear his mind, and it had been meditating. Slowly, he was getting much better dealing with the aftermath. Still, it was only the uncertainty of the situation that continued to perturb him.

“I know,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “It’s been hard, you know. For all us, I mean.”

Nancy nodded, setting down her fork on the tray and looking at Keanu sorrowfully. “I know my daughter, and she’s a fighter. I’m sure that she’ll get better, and it’s only a matter of time. But the last thing she would want is for you to get sick because of her. She wouldn’t like it if you stopped taking care of yourself, Keanu.”

“Yeah,” he agreed after pondering for a minute. “She wouldn’t like that.”

“Good,” Nancy smiled as she pushed her tray next to Keanu’s at the edge of the table. “The food here isn’t the best. Let’s go out and buy lunch somewhere else instead, hmm? My treat, and you can’t turn down free lunch.”

“No, ma’am. I can’t,” Keanu chuckled as he stacked the trays before getting out of his seat.

The two of them had reached the exit when your father Peter came running down the hall. His chest heaved heavily as if he had sprinted all the way from the fifth floor to the first.

“Peter, what on earth was that all about?” Nancy asked her husband as Keanu held him steady. “You know, there are elevators in this building.”

“It’s our baby girl. She’s awake,” Peter panted, his eyes filled with so much joy that Keanu could feel it radiating from him. “Y/N’s finally awake.”

---

“Are you sure, Keanu?” Peter questioned him as he stood in the middle of the doorway. “You’re practically family, I can tell the doctor that.”

“It’s okay, go,” Keanu waved him off with a smile before sitting down in one of the plastic chairs right outside of the room.

Dr. Henderson had just finished evaluating you but had asked to speak with your parents first. It seemed a bit of an unusual request, though he didn’t want to overthink it. He was okay with giving Nancy and Peter time with you first. They were your parents, after all.

As he sat there out in the hall, Keanu cracked a smile for the first time in weeks. The last three weeks had been hell for him, and he was ready to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Very soon, he would finally be able to see your open eyes and hear your sweet voice. Keanu was already coming up with what he was going to say once it’s his turn for him to see you, and he wanted the first words for you to hear from him was that he was sorry.

It took a while until Dr. Henderson stepped out of the room, leaving you with your parents. Keanu got up from his seat, a thank you ready to roll off his tongue until he noticed the solemn look on the doctor’s face.

Just before he could ask if something was wrong, Peter appeared from behind him, his hand coming to rest on Keanu’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“Son, we need to talk,” Peter spoke with a downcast gaze. “It’s about Y/N.”

Keanu eyed your father nervously as he gestured for the two of them to sit. “What is it? Is she okay?”

Peter released a deep breath before shaking his head. “She’s doing fine physically, but mentally, there’s something wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Retrograde amnesia,” Peter stated, glancing at the tile floors beneath his feet. “Dr. Henderson said that she needs to undergo tests to confirm it, but he thinks she’s likely suffering from it.”

“Amnesia?” Keanu’s voice faltered as the word fell from his lips. “What did she forget? The accident?”

“Yes,” he revealed, pausing for a brief second before continuing. “Y/N can’t recall the accident nor anything from the last five years. Not a single memory, Keanu.”

Five years? That meant… No, it couldn’t be.

“What’s the last thing she can remember?”

Peter looked at Keanu regretfully. “She remembers breaking up with her ex Eric and moving back with us. This was way back in—”

“February,” he finished, shutting his eyes as he felt his chest tightened. “That happened in February 2015.”

Keanu was at a loss for words. Here you were now, finally awake after spending weeks in a coma, only to have five years worth of your memories erased. He could only imagine how confused you must be not knowing what had happened. There had been a significant amount of changes in your life within that time frame—moving to LA, getting a new job, meeting Keanu.

The last part hurt him the most. You had forgotten him and all of the memories you had together. Right now, Keanu was nothing but a complete stranger to you, and thinking about it made his heart feel heavy. Of course, he wanted to be there to help, but at the same time, he didn’t want to overwhelm you. What if you didn’t want him around? What if you pushed him away?

Keanu glanced at Peter, the question slightly trembling out of his mouth. “Did the doctor say it was permanent?”

“He doesn’t know. There’s a chance that it could be temporary, and the memories would resurface later on. But, it could also end up being permanent.”

Leaning back against his seat, Keanu ran a hand over his face. The silence which followed gnawed at his insides as nausea churned in the pit of his empty stomach. “I’m a part of those memories she’s lost. She won’t remember the last five years we’ve spent together. Y/N won’t even recognize me if I walk in there.”

“Keanu?”

Nancy calling out his name caused him to glance up. She stood before him with red eyes, cheeks still stained with tears. “Do you want to see Y/N?”

The answer was obvious, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to voice it out loud. “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Nonsense, dear. Perhaps all Y/N needs is to see you, and she’ll remember everything again,” Nancy suggested with fervent hope flashing across her face.

“Maybe,” Peter shrugged, sharing a glance between Keanu and his wife. “It’s up to you, son.”

Keanu didn’t want to be disappointed, but he needed to at least try. He was reminded of the promise he made on the night of the accident, that no matter what, he would never give up on you. Pushing aside his fears, he stood by the foot of your door and opened it before stepping over the threshold.

Instantly, his gaze met yours as you sat up from your bed. Seeing you awake made him feel so relieved, and he had to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. All he wanted to do was cross the room and gather you into his arms, hoping his touch would bring back the memories you’ve forgotten. But Keanu decided against it, choosing to linger closely by the door instead.

“Y/N?” He spoke your name in a soft tone, waiting for any reaction to come.

A pause. From the hospital bed, you looked at Keanu with merely a blank stare, not even the slightest flicker of recognition showing in your unwavering eyes.

“I’m sorry, but... do I know you?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the room was silent enough for him to hear your words.

You should know him, but you don’t.

You don’t remember him at all.

Part 3

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer​ @fanficsrusz​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @awessomness​ @meetmeinthematinee​

[mycupoffanfiction]

Winning Hearts

Pietro x Reader

Summary: Pietro and the Reader both have a crush on each other, but Pietro is convinced the Reader has something special with Bucky, who in reality is just her best friend.

Warnings: Just two clueless beans and a lot of fluff.

Word count: Approx 2500

Masterlist

Pietro Week Masterlist

A/N: Hi my loves! This was requested by an anon. I hope you enjoy the fic and was what you were looking for, I set this in a party since I attempted this in a few other settings and it seemed to work better like this. Enjoy! 💕

“What are you doing?” Wanda’s voice interrupted Pietro’s glaring contest with the back of Bucky’s head, trying to get a glimpse of you in your beautiful dress you’d worn for Tony’s party. Scrambling to take a gulp of his alcoholic beverage to make it look like there was nothing going on at all, Pietro just gave her a wide eyed shrug, attempting to pass it off, but failing miserably.

Wanda sighed and looked up at her brother, unimpressed and she changed her stance, propping a hand on her hip as she arched a brow at her twin. “You were staring. Again.” She snorted. “What do you have it with Barnes? Do you like him?” Wanda teased, nudging him with her elbow and Pietro almost spat out his drink, collapsing into a coughing fit when he inhaled it instead.

“Wanda!” He shrieked, fixing her with a glare that quickly turned into a smile and a chuckle, he hadn’t expected her to come out with that. “No, I wasn’t staring at him, I had my eye on another.” He sighed longingly as he glanced over, finally getting to see you in that dress and Pietro practically turned into a puddle when he saw you. “Isn’t she beautiful?” He whispered, eyeing you with a desirous look.

Wanda was sick and tired of Pietro dancing around you without admitting any feelings when it was achingly obvious you had it bad for her brother. In fact, it was so obvious that she didn’t even feel like she might need to probe for information or use her powers to see your true intentions towards Pietro because the longing stares and heart eyes you always seemed to have around her twin was more than enough to tell Wanda you had it bad for him.

“Go and ask her to dance with you.” Wanda prodded him in the side, making Pietro flinch away and playfully wave her hands away from his sides. “Noooo.” He whined, shaking his head frantically. “Pietro, I have never seen you freeze up around a girl like this before, slather on some charm and ask her to dance.” She shoved him a little. “Nonono.” Pietro held up his hands in surrender, adamant he didn’t want to. “She’s clearly with Bucky, I mean look at them, they are always together and they look happy.” He sighed, heart aching at the thought.

It was true though, you did seem to spend an awful lot of time around Bucky. Most mornings at breakfast you spent in his presence, you drank coffee together, ran together, watched movies together, but not for the reason Pietro saw.

Wanda snorted and shook her head. “Brother, they are not together. She is so in love with you, can’t you see?” She asked. “Please, just go and ask her to dance Pietro, you won’t regret it, she’ll say yes, I know she will.” She urged.

You glanced around Bucky’s arm at the sound of Pietro wheezing and spluttering dramatically while Wanda just stared at him with an amused smirk. “What’s up with him?” Bucky asked, rolling his eyes as he turned to see the commotion. You snorted out a laugh and shook your head. “I don’t know but I feel like every time I see Pietro he ends up doing something like that.” You giggled, swivelling around to face Bucky so you didn’t cause Pietro any unnecessary embarrassment.

“That’s because you’re here, Doll. Y’know that boy gets real nervous when you’re around.” Bucky grinned like the devil and you scoffed, lazily whacking his arm. “I wish.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “There’s no way Maximoff is into me, he’s got it bad for all the girls.” You sighed and Bucky winced at your comment, obviously not realising that Pietro only ever seemed to be flirty around you, but apparently in your mind that translated to him being flirty with everyone.

“Aw, c’mon Sweetheart, you don’t really believe that do ya?” Bucky asked, trying to get you to think a little more about Pietro’s actions around you. You groaned and tilted your head back. “He flirts all the time.” You sighed and Bucky was internally screaming at this point. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and tell you how much Pietro was clearly into you and only you and fling you at the speedster so he could get you two to admit your feelings one way or another or perhaps he’d lock you both in a closet. Yeah the latter sounded like a more plausible idea, he thought.

“Besides he’s way out of my league.” You pouted, your absurd comment about yourself breaking Bucky out of his thoughts and he stared at you, mouth agape with impending disagreement. “Excuse you Ma’am, you and I both know that ain’t true, you’re absolutely, heart stoppingly gorgeous Doll.” Bucky stated as if it was fact and you grinned like an idiot, smile faltering when you noticed the presence of someone else and you looked to the side to see Pietro, staring at you both in silence. An excruciatingly long moment passed and you stuttered on the spot, seeing the hurt in Pietro’s eyes and you reached out for him, but he disappeared into a trail of silvery blue as if he was never there to begin with.

You’re absolutely heart stoppingly gorgeous Doll. God, why had Pietro thought this was even a good idea? Why did he have to listen to Wanda? He was right, you were with Bucky and he had just made himself look like an idiot in front of you. He was pining after you but it was clearly unrequited and there was no way you’d reciprocate the feelings. Pietro was better off trying to find some of Thor’s Asgardian mead and spending the rest of the party alone in his room, away from the embarrassment he’d just caused himself.

Staring at the tankard of mead in his hands, Pietro took a couple of sips and placed it on the bedside table next to his bed, debating back and forth whether he should drink the whole lot and forget about his feelings or just go to bed. He was about to take a deep drink when a frantic knock at the door interrupted him and he paused, slamming the tankard down, mead sloshing over the side slightly.

Pietro let out a string of swear words in Sokovian and from what you could pick up from the muffled outburst in his mother tongue, you heard him tell his sister to piss off and leave him alone. “Piet, it’s me.” You called through, hoping that would convince him to at least calm down and as soon as he heard your voice he went silent.  “Piet, please open the door, I just want to talk.” You spoke softly, leaning yourself against the door.

“Not now Prinţesă, enjoy the party with Barnes.” He called through the door, trying not to sound upset and utterly heart broken, but you could hear the hurt in his voice and the dismissive tone it took. That’s when it hit you like an absolute tonne of bricks. He thought you were with Bucky, that certainly explained his quick escape from the party and you sighed at yourself for being so blind.

He’d obviously overheard you and Bucky and must have thought you were together and now you really felt like an idiot. You sighed and bumped your head against the door, scolding yourself a bit before picking up the courage to speak again.

“Piet, Bucky and I aren’t a- a thing.” You tried to explain awkwardly through the door. “Nice try, Prinţesă, I heard what Barnes said to you.” He called back and you thought it so ironic that he thought Bucky was hitting on you when it was you who had needed the encouragement for feeling out of Pietro’s league.

“Oh, Piet- he said that because I’m an idiot.” You sighed, unsure how to put it into words and Pietro narrowed his eyes, giving a questioning look to the door. That made absolutely no sense at all and Pietro finally gave in and got up from sitting on the edge of the bed to let you in, perhaps explaining would be easier if there wasn’t a large division between you both.

When the door opened, you stumbled into the room, having not expected him to actually let you in and you’d still been leaning against it. Pietro quickly caught you, a chuckle escaping his lips as he held you in his arms. Clearing his throat, Pietro got you standing upright and took a step back, awkwardly shoving his hands into his suit trouser pockets.

“I fail to see how Barnes telling you that you are gorgeous is because you are an idiot, whi-which you’re not. Not an idiot, I mean, you are very beautiful.” Pietro stumbled over his words, shaking his head at himself as he dug himself even deeper into the hole you’d both created. Getting flustered at his comment, you smiled, but reminded yourself why you were here in the first place. You sighed and closed your eyes, realising you’d have to unravel the entire thing and start again and hope Pietro liked you and you could work through the strange misunderstanding.

“We aren’t together, Piet. Bucky was trying to encourage me about someone at the party I like and I felt like I was out of his league.” You skipped around admitting anything and Pietro eyed you with a perplexed look. “He was right Prinţesă. You are beautiful, you look wonderful in that dress and if you think for a second that you are out of anyone’s league, you are wrong.” Pietro hadn’t even realised quite what he’d said until he saw your reaction and your eyes widened. “You really think that?” You asked, voice softening as you shyly looked up to meet his eyes and Pietro nodded with a sweet smile.

“Yes and I think you should go and tell whoever it was at the party how you feel.” He tried to dismiss you but you stayed still in the doorway, fumbling with your words for a second before you mustered up the courage. “I can’t, he left.” You blurted out and Pietro shot you questioning look as if trying to work out if you were in fact talking about him or someone else.

“Who left, Prinţesă?” Pietro asked softly, slowly starting to catch on since you refused to move and he took a step towards you, his hand coming to rest on your bare arm with a feather light touch, so you had room and time to back out if you wanted.

Your breathing hitched under his soft touch and you struggled to meet his eyes, suddenly even more nervous and shy than you were before and you shakily lifted a hand to run your fingers up the lapels of his suit jacket. “You did, Piet.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper and Pietro’s soft expression quickly morphed into a lopsided smile.

Pietro slowly closed the gap between you, his hand running up your arm to gently brush his fingers against your cheek, thumb tracing your cheekbone as his other hand moved to rest on your waist. “Is this okay, Prinţesă mea?” Pietro whispered, his breath against your skin, his warmth soothing some of the adrenaline that rushed through you, though your heart still beat fast and you still struggled to look up into his eyes.

“Tell me if it’s okay, I will stop if you tell me to.” He assured you, fingers tilting your chin, making you look up to meet his soft blue gaze and you opened your mouth to respond, only to end up just giving him a nod when you realised you couldn’t muster the simple yes or no Pietro was asking for.

He smiled, seeing the effect he had on you and his glance flicked between your eyes and your lips, watching as you instinctively ran your tongue over them and parted them slightly, his urge to kiss you even greater than before. With one more look into your eyes, Pietro leaned down, closing the gap even further as the hand on your waist tugged you against him and his lips brushed softly against yours, meeting so subtly for a second before he dipped down fully and captured you in a sweet kiss.

His lips pressed against yours and caressed you at a lovingly slow pace. You gained the confidence to move your lips against his, searching for more of him and all of your worry and shyness seemed to melt away as you pulled yourself closer, hands meeting at the back of his neck and threading between his hair. Pietro rewarded you with a low groan that rumbled through his chest against yours and his grip on your waist tightened slightly.

Pietro pulled you slowly to the side and nudged the door to his room shut to give you some privacy from anyone who might happen the wander through the hallway. Pushing you down slowly, Pietro cradled the back of your head as he lowered you onto his bed, tongue carefully parting your lips and meeting yours in a slow and gentle caress. Butterflies blossomed in your stomach as you allowed Pietro to deepen the kiss, letting out a soft hum at the feeling of him against you, his skin on yours was intoxicating, the smell of his cologne was comforting and yet so alluring and you found yourself wanting to breathe in more of the spiced, warm chocolate scent that clung to his neck and jawline.

Slowly, he parted from you, eyes hooded with adoration and desire as he took in your slightly breathless form, laid out so delicately on his bed with a flustered look on your features, lips still parted from the kiss you had shared.

“So beautiful, Prinţesă .” He whispered, looking down at you in awe as he admired your features, eyes exploring every little detail. “So beautiful.” Pietro repeated, speaking so smoothly as he reached to hold your hands, pulling you into a sitting position so you could talk at the same level. “Will you be my Prinţesă?” He posed the question, looking deep into your soft eyes, waiting for your response.

You paused, drawing in a breath as you mulled over the wording of his question, his voice was so soft and sweet, a quality you’d only seen him share with you and Bucky’s earlier discussion with you quickly came to mind, realising Pietro really had only been flirting with you the entire time.

“I’d love to be yours, Piet.” You nodded, sharing a look of adoration and deep appreciation for one another.

Grinning at your response, Pietro took your hand and gently held it in his. “I want to enjoy tonight with you, Prinţesă mea, how about a dance on the balcony, so I can keep you all to myself and we can still enjoy the music?” He gave you a smirk, melting you with his eyes and you nodded approvingly. “That sounds perfect.” You responded with a bright smile, receiving a winning grin from Pietro.

“Come, we still have all night to have a good time.” Piet winked at you, pulling you up with him and helping you out onto the balcony before he immediately fell into step with the music you could hear from the party deck upstairs. You moved with him and giggled, delighted and relieved you were finally with Pietro. He twirled you around before pulling you back to rest against his chest.

You’d give Bucky and Wanda their satisfaction of knowing they were both right another time, but for now you were very content in the loving embrace Pietro held you in.

Pietro Taglist (OPEN):

@valkyriesryde @bisexual---mermaid @sherlocked-bitch @virtualmemmecollector @megantje123 @sebbbystaaan @unknown-and-invisible @scarlett-berserker @yougottakeeponkeepinon @chiefwobblerauthorrebel @kitkatd7 @herwaywardskies @saltywintersoldat @potterssuperhero @mushyjellybeans @southernbell91 @book-dragon-13 @marvelgirl7​

[faefictions]

Lonely People | Ch 5

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Word Count: 1,904

 Y/n spent the entire weekend dreading Monday morning. Class already wasn’t an event to look forward to, but after her conversation with Jace, she didn’t want to have to look Harrison in the eye. Of course, if things went down with him like they had with Jace, it wouldn’t have been that bad. She had only known him for a couple weeks, and they weren’t that close anyway. But they were going to be forced together for this project so she had to find some way to avoid the situation altogether. And that was how she came up with the worst plan she had ever made. She decided to just make him not like her. 

In hindsight, she should have known that that wasn’t going to work how she wanted it. You can’t force someone to not have feelings, just like you can’t force those feelings into existence. But that wouldn’t have stopped her from trying anyway. Her goal was to make him hate her just enough that he wouldn’t have a crush on her, but not so much that he couldn’t stand working with her. Her grade still mattered to her, whether she wanted to admit it or not. 

When she got into the building on Monday morning, she took a deep breath and braced herself. She knew it wasn’t like he was about to make a move on her, but she had to be proactive. When she walked into the class, just one minute before the bell, she glanced up to see Harrison already at the desk, two coffees sitting in front of him. 

He smiled up at her and offered her one of the coffees when she approached him. She kindly took it from the desk and took a sip. 

“There a reason for this?” she asked, gesturing towards the cup. 

“Didn’t want you to be late again,” he chuckled, trying to lighten her seemingly dim mood. 

“Oh, uh, thanks, I guess,” she replied trying her best to not show her appreciation. 

“Wait, what if I had stopped for coffee anyway?”

“Well I guess I didn’t think that far ahead,” he replied, the small smile almost disappearing from his face. She decided to take that as a win for now. 

Mr. Sullivan dismissed both the classes early so they could either prepare for their shoots, head into the studio, or take their shoots elsewhere. 

Y/n and Harrison made their way back to her apartment to get the clothes they had left there from the previous class. The walk was filled with an awkward silence, one that neither of them had the guts to break. Jace had gotten into both of their heads, so any hope for a normal conversation was out the door. 

When they reached the apartment, Harrison didn’t light up like he usually did when he saw Jace. He gave him a begrudged smile and followed y/n into her room to help her gather whatever she needed for their photoshoot. She noticed his awkward shift of character around Jace, but didn’t say anything. She knew exactly why he was acting that way. She wasn’t initially sure if Jace had confronted Harrison too, but she had her suspicions. She tried to not be upset about it, but it irked her beyond belief. Jace had no right to interfere with her love life, or lack thereof. That was her decision. 

“You ok?” Harrison asked, snapping y/n out of her little trance. She realized that she had been standing in the middle of the room, blankly staring at the closet for a few seconds too long. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she muttered, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. 

She reached into her closet and pulled out two of the outfits that they had chosen the week before. She let Harrison decide which one they would focus on for the day. She was happy with his choice: a deep blue sweater and some white pants. He had also picked out a watch and simple gold chain to go with the outfit as well. 

They had mutually agreed to spend as little time in the studio as possible. Everyone seemed to be centering their projects on artificial lighting and indoor set-ups. Y/n, of course, had to think outside of the box. So she decided to have only one photo in the studio, and the rest would use as much natural light as possible and be taken in an urban setting. Harrison loved the idea, and the examples she was showing him were amazing enough to seal the deal officially. 

Y/n left Harrison in her bedroom to change while she grabbed some more of her personal equipment from the main room. There was a corner next to the television that she had convinced Sierra and Jace to let her store some of her excess stands and bags in. It wasn’t too much, she just didn’t want it cluttering her room. 

By the time she was all packed up and ready to go, Harrison was coming out of her room to show her the outfit. She mentally noted all the minor adjustments she wanted to make before she started taking photos, and headed out the door. 

She had to admit that the walk to their first location was excruciatingly awkward. The silence between them felt heavy, but neither of them wanted to comment on it. Being around Harrison was proving to be more difficult than she thought it would be. 

As they reached their destination, the silence was only filled by her occasional instructions for him. She had to admit, he was good at what he did. She barely had to fix each pose that he would do. It was a relief to know that her professor truly had paired her with someone who knew what they were doing. 

“So, do you have any plans for Autumn break?” Harrison eventually asked as y/n was checking the shots on her camera. He was getting sick of the silence. He couldn’t figure out why it was happening in the first place. Had he said something, done something? 

“You mean Thanksgiving break?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Fall break was in October,” she tried to hide her giggle. 

“You know what I meant.”

“Can’t pass up the opportunity to make fun of you,” she tried to keep a straight face. This was a little easier than she thought. 

“Are you going to answer the question, or are you too busy poking fun?” he tried not to smile. 

“I don’t know. Sierra and Jace usually make me trade off going home with them for holidays, but I’m not really enjoying that.”

“And why don’t you just go home?”

“This is home.”

Her demeanor completely changed with the answer, Harrison could tell he had struck a chord within her and asking anything further would be a bad idea. 

“So, uhm, do you have any plans?”

“No, I don’t thinking flying back to England for a week is worth the money. And I’m pretty sure Sierra is making Tom come home with her for the holiday.”

“Wait really?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a bit much, but they’re in puppy love, he’s really excited.”

That was great news for y/n. It was Sierra’s turn to take her back home, and if she was taking Tom with her instead, she had an excuse to get out of it. 

The conversation ended when y/n stated that she had gotten the shots she was looking for. The walk back to her apartment was almost as awkward as the walk there. The silence was still thick between them, but it didn’t feel as dreadful as before. 

___

That night, as y/n was beginning to chose and edit some of the photos from the day, she heard Sierra and Jace quietly arguing in the kitchen. It wasn’t a rare occasion to hear any of the 3 roommates arguing with another, especially in the last few months. Ever since the incident with Jace, their relationships had all been tested, but as far as y/n knew that was all over. So out of pure curiosity, she came out of her room and silently approached the kitchen, hoping to eavesdrop before they spotted her. 

That hope went out the door when she heard Jace sigh and ask her to come around the corner. She never got the whole sneaky thing down.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking between her roommates to their frustrated expressions. 

Neither of them wanted to tell her, which was made obvious when they both hit the other’s arm, trying to pass the responsibility over. 

“Is this about Thanksgiving?” y/n asked, slightly amused at their childlike avoidance. 

“How’d you know?” Jace asked. 

Y/n ignored the question and instead turned to Sierra. “Heard you’re taking Tom home with you this year.”

Sierra seemed ashamed to have been caught, but y/n just laughed at her. 

“No worries, I can stay home for break. Really give you some alone time,” she gave her an over-exaggerated wink, but neither of her roommates found it amusing. 

“Don’t be an idiot, y/n, you can come to my place,” Jace said, furrowing his brow. 

“As sweet as the offer is, I really must insist that I stay home,” she stated, a slight sarcastic lift in her tone. “I appreciate the thought of you guys letting me come home with you, but you both must know how much I hate it by now.”

“Since when do you hate it?” Sierra asked, the offense more present in her voice than she was hoping. 

“Si, your parents ask way too many questions. They’re sweet and all, but I don’t think I can sit through another speed round of personal questions.”

“And what about Jace’s family?”

“I think we all know how adamant Jace’s mom is about me just marrying her son already. Holidays with either of you just mean a week of avoiding your parents, it’s exhausting.”

Jace chuckled at her, but Sierra wasn’t so amused. “You can’t just stay here on your own,” she fought, crossing her arms. 

“Actually, Si, believe it or not, I’m a big girl. I think I can handle a week on my own,” she said in a mocking tone as she made her way around the counter to grab a glass from a cabinet. 

“See, I told you,” Jace teased Sierra, making her turn red. 

“But, y/n..”

“I know, I said I hated being here alone, but that was like a month after we moved in. I’m fine with it now, I promise,” she reassured her friend. She rested her hands on Sierra’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring look, which just caused her to roll her eyes with a smile. 

“Fine, but I’m telling Tom to make Harrison come check on you.”

“Or you could not do that,” y/n replied, sudden annoyance present in her tone. 

“Just so I know you’re not dead. We both know you’re terrible at replying to texts… and calls… and literally any other form of communication.”

“I promise I’ll reply to anything you send, just don’t make your boyfriend’s little friend babysit me.”

“I thought we liked Harrison.”

“And I thought I was old enough to not need a babysitter.”

“Ok, fine, but if you ghost me, I’m making Tom call him.”

“Ok, deal,” y/n rolled her eyes and turned so she could fill her glass with water and return to her room to edit her photos in peace. 

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