#i promise to respond soon! its just i have a limited amount of time and im having a huge burst of inspo for this fic... so that's what im-

[fatuismooches]

nahhh i’m pretty sure reader is gonna hate omega for a good bit 😭 like even zandy’s gone

Well anon...

[jngsjngs]

do u still have the original writing/chapter of rei recounting each love language with shoto 😭😭 that slays me every time i think abt it 😭😭 ik u rewrote hsc for the sake of reflecting your current skill level at the time but i hope u dont underestimate how truly phenomenal hsc 1.0 was

this means a lot 😭 i think i’m past the point of feeling like i have something to prove so i promise there won't be another major rewrite any time soon but that said i just went back to the original draft of the scene ur talking about and i might add her back because as it turns out i like the first version a lot more than the current one 🥹 ehe

(slipping it under the read more so u don’t have to wait) (the original was in chapter 20 of hsc 1.0 which felt a little too soon so that’s why i ended up rewriting it) (a condensed version in chapter 27 now!!!)

〰️

I was a good twenty minute walk away from campus when Ochako texted me saying I had to get to class in ten. It wouldn't have been an issue if I had the authority to speed up using my Quirk, but without a provisional license, I was just a mere civilian hoping her homeroom teacher wouldn’t notice her absurd amount of tardies. Despite my general dislike for unnecessary physical exertion, it’s said that desperate times call for desperate measures, and that, in addition to my fear of Aizawa-sensei, convinced me enough to make a run for it.

Defeating Villains required a decent amount of cardio in its own right. Kamihara-sensei helped improve my stamina by about double my previous limit, but I still couldn’t fathom running for the sake of running, and doing it so early in the morning worsened the burning  in my lungs tenfold. I made it down the hall from our classroom before I had to stop and catch my breath, clutching my shirt as an embarrassingly searing ache shot through my chest.

"Should I call for help?"

I almost didn’t turn around if only because I had no reason to look behind me. At this point, I wondered if my Quirk possessed an unknown characteristic that allowed me to sense him before I could tell that someone stood next to me in the first place. Or maybe the fact that I thought of him so frequently these days turned into somehow summoned his presence.

"I could've died in the time it took you to ask that," I said, looking up at the boy standing about a foot away from me.

Todoroki didn't even bat an eye. "Your jokes are almost as impressive as your streak of tardies."

"I hope Aizawa-sensei finds it in his heart not to mention that to my mom," I mumbled, letting out a huff of exhaustion and exasperation. "Not my fault no one woke me up earlier."

"I heard they tried calling you nine times."

"You can’t prove that."

"Yaoyorozu told me, and if I had to pick the least likely person in this school to tell a lie, we both know it would be her."

A prickly feeling coursed through my veins when he uttered Momo's name. I learned a lot about myself during our week of internships, and that allowed me to admit that though I didn’t consider myself a self-loathing person by nature, I had grown to dislike facets of my personality over a gradual amount of time. It didn't occur to me the first time it happened since I had just woken up, but I was awake enough now to recognize that jealousy fed on such insecurities, and jealous and insecure was exactly what I was.

My envy didn't manifest as a possessiveness over Todoroki or unwarranted dislike towards any individual that looked his way. The more I thought about it, the more I confident I felt that I didn't mind if he talked to Momo, especially not when I considered them two of my closest friends. No, it presented itself in the form of whispers in my mind telling me that I wasn’t good enough, and that someone would always be better, not just for him, but in every sense of the word.

"I trust Momo not to aid you in tarnishing my reputation," I said, reeling in any negative feelings committed to surfacing.

Todoroki didn’t respond, and for a moment he didn’t say anything at all, but I had long since grown accustomed to his bouts of silence. I left him with his thoughts for a minute and expertly spurned mine until he spoke again.

"You called Yaoyorozu by her first name just now, and earlier this morning she called you," Todoroki said, hesitating. "Rei."

In spite of my petty inner turmoil, the corners of my mouth curved into a satisfied smile. "I didn't expect her to agree."

"What do you mean?"

"I asked her for a favor," I said, sparing him another glance from my peripheral. "It's kind of lame on my part, but that was it."

Todoroki stared straight ahead, but turquoise slid to the corner of his eye to meet my pair of crimson.

I could admit that I was jealous of Momo from the very beginning. The day of the apprehension test, I was disappointed because she placed first while I ranked below someone I accidentally called Bakagou. Though I also knew my friends better now and would've just as easily admitted that I deeply respected and admired her and the blond, I couldn't help but feel like I was somehow ten steps behind her. And him. And Todoroki.

"Should I call you," Todoroki hesitated again, and I started to wonder if something about my nickname made it particularly difficult for him to pronounce. "That, too?"

"No need to hurt yourself."

Todoroki shook his head, this time rather adamantly. "It's not what you think. I was just curious if you preferred it over your surname."

"Do you have a preference about what people call you?"

"Not particularly."

"You picked Shouto as your Hero name for a reason.”

It might not have been the best time to initiate a potentially deeper subject that seemed strangely significant under the surface since we didn't have much time in general, but I had a feeling Todoroki didn’t trail off into silence for no reason and tried to fill the holes in the conversation for him.

"Todoroki is an important name," he said, averting his eyes to his shoes. "I've accepted it as part of my identity because I had no other choice, but if it were up to me, people wouldn’t see me simply as Endeavor's son."

"You don't want to be a better version of your father, but the best version of yourself."

Todoroki looked up at me in surprise and slowly settled into the expression as if he should've expected as much. I stared at him knowingly, perhaps all too well. The two of us shared such similar stories when it came to family, but none felt better or worse, not even entirely the same. I thought of them more like asymptotes coursing on a continuous line, approaching a curve without actually meeting at any finite distance.

His troubles sounded familiar to a precise degree, but he dealt with them in ways I sometimes couldn't fathom. Todoroki learned to significantly humble himself now in comparison to the first few weeks I'd known him, but he still possessed a remote level of arrogance, which, combined with his tendency to be solitary and sort of aloof, often made him take the initiative without considering the opinion of others. I, on the other hand, cared too much about what people thought of me.

The urge to improve because you wanted to be better than you were yesterday had the potential to be overwhelming. It was an ineffable appetite that could only be quelled by results, and those results had the chance to turn into repercussions if you weren’t careful about how to achieve them. Todoroki learned that the hard way when he tried to depend solely on his ice. Left untouched, his flames might've turned into a conflagration that swallowed him whole.

I learned that the hard way when I tried to shoulder my burdens and everyone else's on my own. The difference was that he strived to release the weight he carried, and I grew more aware of the load I kept adding onto mine. Todoroki didn't know what it felt like to hate himself. I couldn't blame him for that, because doing so would mean I wished it upon him, and I'd never wish that feeling on anyone.

"I don't care either what people call me either," I said, lips quirking at his curious stare. "I just ask people to call me Rei because it’s the part of me they can relate to the most, and that somehow makes the whole becoming friends thing a lot easier."

"I don't get it."

"Do you think we'd have genuine conversations if you started calling me Rei?"

"We already have those,” Todoroki pointed out.

"We do," I agreed. "I never asked you to call me that because you just didn’t seem like the type to use it, but the more we got to know each other, the more I realized you never needed that crutch in the first place.”

"Do you always have to talk in metaphors?" Todoroki asked, shaking his head when I frowned. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want me to call you?"

"That was a totally different question."

"That wasn't an answer."

"I don't talk in metaphors all the time," I mumbled. "And didn't you just say it wouldn't change how we talk to each other? If it's any consolation—"

I wavered a bit, tempted to stall, but Todoroki was waiting, and I wanted to be honest.

"I like the way things are now."

My parents taught me at a young age not to criticize people for things they couldn't change about themselves. I'd like to believe I held that standard to this day, but I came to realize that I never really applied that wisdom to myself. All I could think about was how Momo was smarter than me, Ochako was kinder than me, each of the girls in our class more interesting than me in some way. I didn't want to have those thoughts about people I treasured so much as friends. More than that, I didn't want to think that about myself.

That was precisely why I couldn't entertain the thought of being in a relationship. I'd be stuck comparing myself to other people, even comparing myself to Todoroki, and I'd feel so beneath them all that I'd lose any motivation to do better and be better. As much as I disliked the bits and pieces of me that had been influenced by bouts of depression and anxiety, or perhaps especially because of it, I didn't want to be sad forever. First and foremost, I wanted to be happy with myself.

But—

Todoroki looked up at the ceiling in thought, and then nodded firmly, resolutely.

"Me, too."

—the sharper end of this double-edged sword was that Todoroki had a way of making me happier than I'd been in a long time.

"I'm going to change the subject now," I said, ignoring the sudden warmth unfurling beneath my skin. "Thanks again for what you guys did the other day."

"You started out not being able to say thank you at all," Todoroki said, smiling a bit. "And now you can't seem to stop saying it."

I stared at him straight-faced. "I am a very grateful person."

"I believe that.”

"But?"

"What makes you think there's a 'but'?"

"I've learned a lot here," I said, motioning to the walls around me. I counted plenty of times over the course of the semester when Yūei felt more like home than my actual house. "But until a couple of months ago, I didn't feel like ever going to school."

"Most people wouldn't be so opposed to attending one of the top academies in the world.”

"Would it be cliché to say you wouldn't understand?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's that."

"You can always explain it."

"I've come to realize that words very rarely do justice to emotions."

"You don't think I feel the same," Todoroki guessed, nodding in comprehension more so to himself. The double entendre to his statement made me chuckle a bit. "How would you attempt to convey your feelings to someone without using words?"

The two of us stopped in front of the Class 1-A doors. Todoroki stared at me expectantly like I had the answer to a question he couldn't seem to grasp, but I needed to think about it myself. Everyone had a different love language. Words of affirmation was one of them, but there was also receiving gifts, acts of service, quality time, and physical touch.

"I wonder," I murmured.

I looked at Todoroki and couldn’t help but think this was one of those questions we didn’t need answered. I saw the ocean and the stars in his eyes, and that didn’t fall into any particular category, but it still felt like I—

〰️

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You needed to hear it."

"Hear what?"

A surge of panic struck me when seconds passed and I had yet to receive a reply. I was afraid that he stood and left, but then he exhaled as if to remind me that he was still there, and the next thing that hit me was relief and the sudden realization that I was thankful to sit here with him.

"You've worked hard and done well,” Todoroki said. “If it’s what you want, Higuchi, you can rest for a while.”

〰️

"Here," Todoroki said, holding out a closed fist.

"What?"

"Take it."

His fingers ghosted mine as I felt him drop something into my palm, and like a broken clock, I marveled at the warmth, and then at the object he gave me, blinking rapidly in genuine surprise.

"I asked Yaoyorozu to make one earlier," Todoroki said, shrugging. "Thought it would help you get into character."

The warmth I felt no longer came from a tangible source. Heat dispersed beneath the expanse of my skin, an unfamiliar yet not unpleasant light flickering in my chest. I clutched the elastic band, a vibrant violet that dazzled beneath the sun, and breathed out a real laugh.

〰️

"This sucks," Ochako said, her lips curling into a pout. "I hope we can sit together again, Rei."

"Is it really such a big deal?" Todoroki asked, brows furrowed. "It's not like we're switching classes or anything."

Ochako turned to him, her expression looking impressively reminiscent of a kicked puppy. "You're not going to miss her, Todoroki-kun?"

I nudged his side, distinctly aware of Ashido and Kaminari listening in on our conversation from a few feet away. Todoroki blinked at me and then looked back at Ochako, shrugging his shoulders as his lips quirked the slightest bit.

"I'll sit with her at lunch," Todoroki said, glancing at me again from the corner of his turquoise eye. "Right?"

〰️

Todoroki held out his left hand, his palm facing the ceiling. I stared at it for a second, and then two, and then three.

"Well?"

"'Well,' what?"

"You're cold," Todoroki said.

"A little," I said, unable to tear my eyes away from his trembling fingers. "Are you sure?"

As much as I wanted to take this chance to understand him a little more, I didn't want him to feel like he had some kind of obligation to let me in. His eyes looked stormier than ever, and I knew right away that no, he wasn't, but something about this moment made him want to share the weight on his shoulders despite that.

"Yes," Todoroki said, his tone final. "Are you?"

[bunkerbucky]

Casual Sabotage *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Reader is hit with sex pollen. Except she doesn't crave her boyfriend, Steve Rogers. No, it's his best friend, Bucky Barnes, that she wants inside of her. Bucky, in the beginning, is a good bro and refuses. But due to the fact she sucks his dick so good he kinda, sorta, loses that restraint and just fucks her regardless of who she belongs to.

Rating: Explicit [+18]

Warnings: Sex pollen= Dub-Con, Rough Sex, Rough blow-job, rough oral-sex, vaginal sex, praise kink, breeding kink, size kink- Bucky has a big dick in this lmao, choking and biting kink, infidelity; Reader cheats on Steve. 

TW: Dub-con- Reader is under sex pollen, so she actually cannot give consent and also because Bucky is so resistant in the beginning. It turns consensual on Bucky's part, he gives in to the temptation. But, obviously, reader is still influenced so... the lines are blurred.

Yourself and Bucky had searched the Hydra base from tippy-top to bottom. There was nothing out of the ordinary, which infuriated you a little. With the amount of recon work you both had to do, the long nights of watching the agents coming and going, you felt like you both deserved a small win, at least.

A long sigh escaped from your lips as Bucky's fingers typed furiously on the computers keyboard, a USB stick in hand just in case he found something exciting. Your arms were crossed over your chest, eyes scanning around the bases' security room, roaming the shelves and cabinets that held nothing of importance. A week of nothing, you wanted to cry.

"Hmm," Bucky low hum attracted your attention, "It says there's a basement to this building, we haven't checked that out." His steel eyes look over the screen and at you, you respond with a shrug of your shoulders. "We've got two hours before the cavalry arrives to pick us up, let's explore and see if we can obtain something to keep from Rogers from complainin'"

You giggle slightly at Bucky's comment, nodding in agreement with him. Steve would have a lot to say if you went back empty-handed, especially since he sent you both rather than himself. But you couldn't lie and say the thought of seeing Steve after so long didn't excite you. You had missed your boyfriend dearly, you weren't allowed on missions together since finally making things official. Work ethics and all that jazz.

Instead, you and Bucky had started to partner up, Steve didn't trust anyone but himself, and Bucky, to keep an eye out for you. Who better to watch over his best girl than his best friend, plus Bucky was your friend before you got with Steve.

"What if we go down there and there's a great, big monster waiting for us?" Sliding into the small elevator beside Barnes.

Bucky looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, "Then I'll be throwing you out as a distraction, so I can press the elevator door button to leave."

You both ended up laughing at his response, although when the doors finally did open and reveal a darkened basement layer... there was a moment of silence, you both side-eyeing one another at the lack of sound and movement.

Bucky stepped off first and the automatic lighting triggered him to pull his gun from its holster, his reflexes sharp and fast. You step off and follow Bucky down the hall towards double doors, the room through those doors was abandoned and huge. Desks with old computers, all smashed and out of use. Stacks of files and paper scattered on desks and the floor. Despite the mess, it all looks really promising, there had to be something amongst the chaos.

You both separate to cover more ground, you only had a limited time before you had to leave. You looked through paper and files, shuffling through stacks of meaningless bullshit. Hydra certainly kept a record of everything, including all the worthless crap. You wondered if they actually printed this stuff to lead you guys on wild goose chases like this, to make sure you were distracted with searching for something important amongst all their bullshit.

You ended up in the far back of the room, a small desk area had random empty vials littered across it. Files labelled in Russian, that you couldn't translate very well.

"Hey, Buck," You called over your shoulder as you lifted an empty vial, a cork tightly shoved in the top; curious. "Think I might've found something."

The vial itself was black, not black liquid, the vial was just black. It didn't feel weighted, it didn't feel like anything was moving inside of it. So, curiosity got the best of you because you yanked the cork off the vial. Black smoke puffed out and into your face causing you to inhale and go into a coughing fit. Waving your arms in front of your face, coughing at the inhalation of whatever was inside that vial.

It smelt like... old leather, peppermint toothpaste and...something else, like a deep musk. Odd.

"Hey, are you okay?" Bucky suddenly appeared at your side, a hand placed on your back and eyeing you with concern. He then grabbed the vial from your hand, it was clear and no longer black. "What happened?"

Your coughing had subsided, you felt fine. "I think there was some kind of smoke or whatever in there, I don't know. The black stuff just burst out, I was stupid-"

"Damn, right." Bucky looked mad, which was a given. "Hydra is known for making gas poisons, Y/N. That was a rookie move, never open strange vials." He didn't sound too mad at you, a little more concerned and worried.

You nodded, frowning when feeling the back of your neck sweating. You felt... hot. A sweat was taking over your body, your mouth was getting dry and your mind was going fuzzy. Bucky hadn't noticed, his eyes cast down to the Russian files on the desk, his hand flipping through the old pages and taking the information in with wide eyes. You briefly wondered if whatever is written in that file had anything to do with that vial.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered.

"What?" Your throat was scratchy, your breathing was becoming laboured and your palms were sweaty.

You didn't feel hot, though. You didn't feel sick either.

"Well, I'm guessing whatever was in that vial was... to put it plainly, sex pollen. It makes the patient unable to think of anything but sex, all they want and all they feel is lust. It's basically either used to breed or on prisoners- the pain of not getting off thoroughly enough can lead to the patient taking extreme measures: death." He shakes his head, you don't notice the horrified look In his eyes at the thought of maybe it being used on him when under Hydra's control. "You're likely fine, though."

"I wouldn't be so sure," You managed to gasp out, your thighs squeezing together and eyes closed, you wanted to feel embarrassed but you couldn't. "My head is spinning and, fuck, I need to get this off. I feel too hot, I'm burnin' up." Clawing at the collar of your own tact suit, your hands were shaking and you couldn't bring yourself to look at Bucky.

You wanted to look at him though. You knew he was standing close to you because you could smell him, he smelt like the black smoke did. He smelt delicious, intoxicating in the best way. God, you wanted him so badly. You needed him.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, we'll get you back to Steve and he can-"

You shook your head and finally pulled the zipper down of your jacket, shrugging the bulletproof material off your shoulders.

"Need you." You managed to mumble out, lifting your gaze to Bucky, who was frowning and shaking his head. "Please, Buck. I need you! I can feel my skin crawling and-I'm in so much pain, please." Your voice a mix between a whine and beg.

"I can't- you're not thinking properly. Steve will be here soon and he can help you, he's your boyfriend, remember?"

You pulled the black, tight sleeved henley from your body and let it drop to the floor, it covered in sweat. You're standing in a sports bra and tact pants, chest heaving as you try to intake gulps of oxygen from your panting. Even with half your clothes off you still felt sweat bead and drip down your skin.

"I can't wait that long," You sniffled but no tears forming. "Please, I want you-I've always wanted you. You read the file, I'm going to die!"

Bucky continued to shake his head. "I won't do that Steve. It says that it took a couple of hours till that point, Steve'll be here soon and I'll explain to him what happened."

You groaned painfully, shaking your own head now. Not understanding why he couldn't just help you now. You were in immense pain and the throbbing heat in your core wasn't letting up.

You didn't want Steve to help you. You didn't need Steve to help you, it wasn't just because he wasn't here. You wanted Bucky. The smell of him, the heat radiating off his body when it was close to yours. You craved for him to touch you, to fuck you. You were sure the moment he touched you that the pain would ease, the flames that were consuming you would simmer down.

And you were certain that he wanted you too.

Taking the initiative you moved closer to Bucky, the short hairs on the back of your neck were drenched in sweat, you could feel it drip down your back. You placed a hand softly on his metal arm, the cool vibranium instantly cooling you down. Bucky let out a shaky breath and looked at you, eyebrows furrowing together as he took in your features. You were sure you could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted to help you. To touch you.

It was frustrating that he wasn't giving in. That he wasn't falling to his desires.

"I won't tell Steve, I promise." You whispered and pressed a kiss to his collar, inhaling his scent and shuddering when it filled your senses. He wasn't pushing you away, but he also wasn't giving in to touching you back. "It can be our little secret. I know you'll make me feel really good, he won't be able to help me like you can."

Her other hand trailed down his chest and stopped at his belt, Bucky was too busy telling her everything he had already been saying. Telling you how you love Steve and Steve loves you. It would break Steve's heart if he found out about this talk from you if he knew what you were saying to Buck. You didn't care, not right now anyway. You had always found Bucky attractive and before getting with Steve you had entertained the thought of Bucky, but he was just getting back his life. A relationship seemed too much for him, well that's what you thought.

You didn't settle for Steve, that was never the case. You love Steve, you know that. But, right now, here with Bucky, you knew that he'd be able to help you with this- more than Steve could. Steve was a peaceful lover, an attentive one. You needed this illness fucked out of you- at least, that's what your hazy brain was telling you.

Your hand slipped under his belt, a wide grin taking over your face at Bucky's shock, words choking out as you wrapped a hand around his dick. A sense of pride coming over you as he began to get hard in your hand, a few quick jerks as started to undo his pants with your free hand. Bucky was stunned into silence and compliance, unable to stop you just from the fact he hadn't been touched like this in a while.

He came to his senses when you noticed you get to your knees, his pants undone and pulled down his muscular thighs. Bucky slapped your hands away and tries to pull his pants back up, but you were putting up quite the fight. You roughly pushed him back, he ended up falling to the ground due to his pants restricting his movements. In the moments he fell down and was trying to figure out what happened, you had pulled down his boxers and gulped dryly at his semi-hard length.

"You're so big," You mumbled before wrapping your lips around the tip, a loud groan echoed through the room from Bucky.

You could feel him growing inside of your mouth as you tried to take more of him down, slobbering up his dick and licking around the shaft. Pulling off to run your tongue around the veins and down to his balls, gently suckling them into your mouth as you jerked his length till it was fully standing erect. You smirked to yourself at all of the noises Bucky was making, a hand being placed on your hair- which normally you hated Steve's hand in your hair, but you'd allow Bucky this time.

"Fuck my throat," spit was around your mouth and down your chin, "fuck my throat with your big cock."

Bucky's eyes were wide and lust-filled, there was still a hesitancy from him. A dilemma going on in that head of his, so you wrapped your lips around his cock again and started to slowly take him down. He was bigger than Steve, so much bigger, but that only spurred you on. You wanted him to roughly fuck your throat, you wanted to feel him at the back of your throat even after this.

You felt both his hands on your head... he started to push your head further down, the tip hit the back of your throat and you still hadn't taken all of him. He started to ease past your limitations, your eyes filled with tears as he stuffed your mouth impossibly full. Your lips stretched wide around his girth, he could feel your throat constrict around him and the slight gag you couldn't help because of how far he was down your throat.

"Fuck, so good." Bucky groaned lowly, eyes completely black and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. You knew your panties were soaking, a slickness collecting on your thighs as you rubbed them together, the flimsy material of your underwear was sticking to you and making you rub yourself just to alleviate the friction. "I'll deal with your pussy in second, right now I'm going to fill this hole up."

It was like Bucky snapped, the trepidation he was feeling before was long gone. It was now replaced with this new Bucky, and you loved him.

He wasn't merciful when he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, his balls were slapping against your chin harshly. The grip in your hair was harsh as he pushed and pulled your head to meet his hard thrusts, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as he basically skull fucked you. Loud gagging sounds, your throat squeezing his cock as you fought for air, he only eased up when you looked like you were going to pass out. It was seconded worth of air before he repeated his onslaught, spit and cum was dribbling down your chin and onto your chest and sportsbra. Bucky kept his eyes on you, it made you shiver how he was looking at you.

Bucky didn't warn you when he was about to cum, instead, he held your head down, almost shoving his entire cock down your throat as loads of his cum spurted out and shot straight down your throat into your tummy. You hardly tasted his cum because of how far he was down your throat. He groaned as he came, swallowing thrusting his hips into your mouth as he milked his orgasm. He pulled you off his cock, it was still hard, thankfully.

He helped pull you to your feet then undressed you, roughly pulling the sports bra off your chest and yanking your pants down your legs. He ripped your panties to shreds and let the tattered pieces fall to the floor, his hungry gaze took in your shaking, naked form. Your thighs were glistening from your arousal and it was still leaking from your pussy, hardly any attention to it made you needy and wishing to be stuffed full.

"Turn around." The authority in his voice made you shiver.

You turned around and felt Bucky place a hand on your shoulder, bending you over the desk where you found the vial. The pieces of paper clinging to your sweaty skin and making you keen into his touch more. He kicked your feet further apart, a hand tickling the insides of your thighs and collecting your sweet juices. Expecting to feel fingers prodding around your entrance, instead, you felt a firm tongue lick from clit to fluttering hole, it dipping inside and collecting the juices wanting to leak out of you.

Your mouth fell open into a silent scream, his tongue was exploring so far into your pussy, his hands gripped your cheeks apart so he could push further inside of you. Tongue fucking you so roughly and expertly, your eyes almost went crossed out from the feeling. You didn't know you could be tongue fucked this good, but Bucky just lived to prove you wrong. The slurping sounds and moans from the man behind you, he lifted and bent your knee to rest on the table; opening you up further for his trained tongue.

"You're gonna have to let me have a taste of this everyday from now on, baby." Bucky groaned against your pussy, mouth closing around your clit as he sucked harshly, your mouths drowning out his own. "Taste so good," the tip of his tongue running figure eights on your engorged clit.

Bucky must've stayed between your legs for minutes, but it felt like hours. He pulled two back-to-back orgasms from you, only using his tongue. When he was done eating your pussy, he stood up and draped himself over your back, an arm wrapping around your neck as he breathed heavily into your ear. You could feel his cock nudge up against your pussy, sliding and coating himself in your juices.

"You ready for me?" You whined your response, trying to push yourself back against him but his arm tightened around your throat- not restricting your airflow. "Think your little pussy can take my dick, dolly?" You nodded in a rush, needing it inside of you otherwise you was going to die. "I've got you," The tip nudges against your entrance and began to push inside, the stretch was painful but welcoming. "Daddy's got you."

Your pussy fluttered around his length, the more he pushed his thick length in the more you moaned. He wasn't even half-way in when you started to babble about how he was too big for you, how he wouldn't fit inside of you. That only made Bucky want to prove you wrong, want to prove that you were made to take him. He started to thrust shallowly, rocking his length in and out of you, impaling you on him more whenever he pushed forward.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he stopped and remained inside of your tight, heat for a moment. Relishing in the way you were split open around his cock, your walls were spasming around him and he was having a hard time not cumming on the spot. You felt so tight, so warm and wet around him, suddenly envious that Steve got to have you all the time. But he was planning on ruining you, to make sure the next time you fucked Steve it wouldn't feel as good.

He was going to fuck you so hard, so deep that you'd be wishing Steve was this big.

"Hang on, baby." That was the only warning you got.

Bucky started to pummel inside of you, his thrusts were hard and fast, his cock was kissing your cervix. You really could only just lay there and take it, your mouth open as moans were ripped from you, eyes rolling back as he kept impaling his girth inside of you. He was hitting spots so deep you knew you'd be feeling him for days afterwards, you'd be walking with limp and sore, it was worth it.

The way he was fucking you, it was as if he had something to prove.

The sound of skin slapping skin, his grunts and groans right beside your ear. His arm around your neck, clenching and cutting your airflow off at times, had you cumming within seconds and he still didn't let up. He didn't stop and fucked you through your third orgasm.

Your mind was starting to come down from the pollen, the pain and fever you were feeling had gone. Replaced now with pleasure and pain, a mix you didn't think you were into but now couldn't get enough of. All you could think and feel was Bucky Barnes. This was no longer the effects of the pollen anymore, this was pure you and riding on the afterglow of Bucky fucking you like you needed.

"Harder." You mumbled through heavy pants, tilting your head to look at him over your shoulder.

A smirk crossed his features, metal arm holding your hip in a bruising grip. Complying with your order and snapping his hips hard into your heat, grinding his hips against yours before pulling back out and repeating. It causes your back to arch, pressing your pussy back against his thrusts with little mewls leaving your lips.

"Kiss me." You plead breathlessly.

Bucky doesn't falter with that demand either. Draping himself over your body again and pressing his plump lips against yours, the kiss is far more gentle than his thrusts, but it still has you moaning against him. He was kissing you like you was fragile, yet fucking you like you were some kind of sex toy that he was using just to jerk off into. It was making your head spin and your pussy needy for more.

"You gonna come again?" Bucky chuckled against your ear, you nodded sharply and cried in pleasure when he bit your shoulder, cumming on the spot when his teeth dug into your flesh. "Mm'good girl." He mumbled as he licked at the tender spot, you could feel his hips stuttering their pace.

"Cum in me." You grinned and he cursed lowly, eyes squeezing shut. "Want you to fill me up, daddy. Fuckin' fuck a baby into me, fill me up."

The arm around your neck was pulled away, hand splaying across your back as he started to thrust into you in tight, fast and hard thrusts. Using your body to seek his own pleasure now, you were biting your lip at the thought of him filling you up. Not even caring if he actually did knock you up, you needed his cum inside of you.

Bucky found his end after a few careful thrusts, warm ropes of his seed filling you up and then some, he filled you up so much that it started to seep out around his cock. He groaned at the mess he made inside of you, he carefully pulled out of your abused cunt to see your hole clenching, trying to keep his creamy load inside of yourself. He had to look away because if he kept staring he'd get hard again, he didn't think you could take another round or load.

You remained bent over the desk and trying to catch your breath, his human hand was rubbing comforting circles on your back. Before you or Bucky could say something a buzzing sound captured both of your attention, it was coming from Bucky's pant pocket. He left you to retrieve his phone, eyes scanning over the device for a moment before he looked at you.

"Steve is waiting at the extraction point for us," You nodded mutely and you both got dressed in mutual silence.

He helped you to look presentable, ignoring the fingerprint bruise on your hip and the obvious bite mark on your shoulder. You were unsure how to explain any of that to Steve, you were also unsure how to explain what happened to Bucky. Obviously, you had still had those feelings for him, right? Otherwise, you would have been able to wait for Steve, it was like all sense of self-control had left you and only Bucky remained in your mind.

As you both left the base in awkward silence, treking the five miles towards the extraction zone, you wondered if you would have craved for Bucky if you was with Steve. If after all this time it was Bucky and not Steve you wanted.

All you knew was that Bucky had ruined you. You could still feel the impression of him inside of you, the way he had so deliciously stretched you open and impaled you on him. The way he had roughly fucked your throat like it was nothing but a hole to get off into. He had fucked you, in more ways than one.

(Please, let me know what you think! I’m also taking requests too! Honestly, kinda wanna write a part 2 where Reader tries to have sex with Steve but fakes her orgasm just to go to Bucky... I’m a bad person, I just think Bucky would be better than Steve tbh lol~ Lilith)

[mha-princess]

Let’s Play Ball

[Bakugou x Fem! Reader]

Masterlist | Request Rules | Request Box

Genre: 18+ | College AU | Oneshot | crack

A/N: before you all ask yes Bakugousquad has to be friends in all of my fanfics i litterally can not help it also I am very upset that I’ve been slacking on writing but I still hope you enjoy ⁍̴̆◡⁍̴̆ )⊃♡- Anako

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding, explicit language

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: a bakugou x reader college au where katsuki is new to the school and the football team, and he develops a little crush on his football captains sister. Who is definitely OFF limits.

“I just don't know where we can find another quarterback before the playoff game! Kaminari you idiot!” Akawa cursed, throwing a pillow at the injured male.

“Hey man, if you wouldn’t of overworked me at practice we wouldn’t be in this predicament. Kaminari said sending the pillow right back at your brother, who catches it easily.

“Plus I told you Kirishima has a friend who's transferring here soon. matter of fact he'll be here monday so you don't need to worry, I promise he's good enough to take my place for now .”

“He's good enough to take your place, but is he good enough to take us to the championships.’ Akawa beckons, you roll your eyes at their bickering.

“Football this and football that. Stop worrying so much It's not that serious.” Akawa and Kaminari scoff at you in unison.

“We’re going to bring this college a trophy. Its my duty as captain to make sure of it.” Akawa brings fist to his chest as if he were swearing to an oath and Kaminari follows in the same motion.

“Both of you. Leave. “ You shake your head as you open the front door. Kaminari reaches for his crutches as your brother grabs their bags.

“Don't you feel bad kicking out a cripple?” Kaminari questions, limping past you.

“Yeah! Don't you also feel bad kicking me out too!? I’m your brother!” Your sigh and shove them out the door.

“I know I tried to get away from you, but out of all the scholarship offers you had you decided to pick the college I wanted to go.” Your bother stops in the doorway.

“You know I have to keep an eye on my little sister. I gotta protect you from these racid guys.” Kaminari laughs at your brother’s teasing as you force him out of the doorway.

“Goodnight.” You say, slamming the door in their faces.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Now class I know this isn’t a high school course, but we have a new student today and I would all like for you to greet him formally and treat him with the same respect you give your peers.” Your administrator announces.

You elbow Kaminari, “She talking about Kirishima’s friend, right?”

Kaminari shrugs, eyes glued to his phone screen. You then snatch his phone from his hands.

“Y/N! There was only nine people left.” He whines reaching for his phone. You hold the phone far out of his reach.

“You know if your brother wasn’t a psycho I would’ve been accused you of liking me. Seeing how much you pick on me.” Your mouth drops in offense.

“Me ? Like you? Could never.” You roll your eyes giving him his phone back and before he can express how you had just hurt his feelings the door to your classroom opens.

“Ah, Mr. Bakugou, it’s nice to have a transfer from such a prestigious school.” Your administrator walks over and firmly shakes the boys hand.

You take a moment to take in the the male’s appearance. His uniform is disheveled, his ash blonde hair is unruly, his bangs are choppy, and his shirt is unbuttoned revealing his collar bones. He didn’t look like he was from a prestigious school. But even though his presentation could use some work his overall appearance wasn’t bad, he was clearly the athletic type.

“There’s a vacant seat next to Mrs. Y/N, so if you would seat yourself so I could get started.” The administrator gestures to the desk and the boy takes his seat.

After that the rest of the class went by as usual. Kaminari asked stupid questions and you struggled to stay awake during the lecture. Once the professor dismissed you all, you pack quickly up, but your stay was prolonged due to the injured Kaminari.

“Welp off to sit on the bench at practice.” Kaminari sighs grabbing his crutches. You try not to laugh, grabbing his backpack.

“I can take it.” Your turn to see that Bakugou hadn’t left, “I don’t know where the field is anyway.” You and Kaminari turn to eachother, but say nothing.

“I got something on my face or something? The hell you too lookin’ like that for?” You snap out of your confusion.

“Nothing it’s just your nothing like how Ejiro described.” You say letting him take Kaminari’s bag.

“Huh? What did that bastard say about me?” The blonde questions.

“He said your an ass-.”Kaminari starts, but you cut off his oxygen with a quick punch to the chest.

“He said your an amazing person.” Bakugou scoffs.

“Whatever, just show me where the field is.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“It’s so hot out here.” Kaminari whines from the bench.

“Maybe it’s because your not playing.” Kirishima teases sitting on the turf, poking at the cast around Kaminari’s injured ankle.

Bakugou and Akawa approach taking a seat next to Kirishima.

“Well look who it is! My replacement!” Kaminari exclaims with fake enthusiasm.

“More like permanent replacement.” Bakugou sneers as he watches Kaminari’s face fill with panic.

“Akawa, you bastard! You gave my spot away?!” The yellow haired boy yells in a questioning manner, throwing a crutch at the captain.

“Easy! For now your still our primary quarterback! But if Bakugou wants to challenge you for your spot, I’ll allow it.” Kaminari picks up another crutch, but Akawa is too fast and darts down the field before he can throw it.

“You’ve been here one day and I’m already getting booted.” Kaminari sighs.

“I’m an asshole, but not that big of an asshole. I’d just wait to take your spot next year. It’s almost the end of the season anyway.” Bakugou responds shrugging.

Kaminari raises a crutch but Kirishima stops him, “It’s too hot to be beat to death by a man with a broken ankle don’t you think?”

Kaminari huffs, sliding down the bench.

“I have so much homework. I shouldn’t be here.” The yellow haired boy groaned at the thought of having to use his brain.

“Just get Y/N to help you after practice.” Kirishima says, taking a sip of water.

“Y/N definitely tired of me. She’s been carrying my stuff all day I’d rather not bother her anymore.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” Bakugou questions, taking the water bottle away from Kirishima and finishing the remaining amount of liquid.

“Y/N? You took my bags from her earlier.” Bakugou nods in understanding. “She was hot.”

Kirishima and Kaminari turn to eachother, an all too fearful glint in their eyes.

“What are you fucks looking like that for?” Bakugou furrows his brows.

“Bro Y/N is like the most hands off girl in this school. Akawa will kill you and us for even talking about his sister like that. As long as Akawa’s her brother your not getting even a little close.” Kirishima explains.

“Plus we wouldn’t let you use her like that.” Bakugou glares at Kaminari.

“You fucking dunce, I might be an asshole, but I wouldn’t use a girl like that. She’d be my girlfriend before I ever tried anything.”

“That’s nice to her coming from you that is .” Kirishima sighs in relief. Bakugou raises his hand to hit Kirishima but he maneuvers out of the way.

“Seriously man its good that you think that way! But good luck getting past Akawa, your gonna need it.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

To be frank, he didn’t need it. Well no let me rephrase you too just hadn’t got caught. After that day at the field Bakugou began to grow more talkative and more open. After a month he was no longer that transfer student, he was your friend.

After few more he was your boyfriend and suprisingly Akawa remained unaware. It’s was hard but you had to admit it was fun. From sneaking kisses in during and between classes to you occasionally stealing him and taking him back to your dorm for some alone time.

But to be honest it’s was growing tiring. Eventhough the adrenaline of being caught was a nice rush, but the more serious you and Bakugou grew the more you both wanted the world to know that you were together.

“But Katsuki the problem isn’t I don’t want to tell him! It’s that I can’t tell him, do you not know how mad Akawa will be at me?

“Well we can’t be a damn secret forever. So I think it’s in your best interest to tell him. Or I will.” Katsuki threatens, as he lay lazily on his back sprawled out in your bed eyes glued to his phone screen.

“Katsuki!” You pout grabbing hold of his arm, not feeling shocked when he pulls away.

“Katsukiiiii.” You whine throwing a leg over his body to straddle his waist. He doesn’t acknowledge you, rather he just keeps looking at his phone.

Feeling aggravated with his silence you lean down and press a kiss in between his neck and his shoulder blade. He pays you no mind. You then let your hand travel down his chest and to the waist band of his pants, causing him to briefly look away from his phone.

“Don’t.” You take your lip in between your teeth.

“You know that’s only makes me want to do it more.” You say letting fingers enter the waistband.

Slowly, you let your fingers trail over his pelvis. He tenses up but still continues to pay you no attention. As your fingers slide down further you take his length into your hand.

“Katsuki.” You whisper in his ear.

“Dammit Y/N stop it.” His breath hitched as you began stroking up and down his shaft. “Your not getting out of this.”

“Mhm.” You respond continuing to trail kisses all down his neck and to his chest, stopping when you reach his underwear.

“Katsukiiii.” You tease. Finally he adverts his attention to you. “Can I?”

He says nothing, instead he lifts up his hips so you can pull his pants down.

“I knew you wouldn’t say no.”

“Shut the hell up.” He mumbles, finally discarding his phone to watch you.

Your mouth falls open has you take his erect member into your mouth taking him as far into your cavern as possible, and taking what you couldn’t throat into your hands.

Bakugou exhales deeply as you swirl your tongue around his firmness. You moan around the thick cock filling your mouth. You could taste the salty taste of precum leak on to your tongue as you continue to bob your head and twist your wrist . A river of saliva beginning to pool over your hand.

Soon enough Bakugou is no longer composed. His hands find there way to your hair as he begins to buck his hips in a sharp motion.

“I-I’m gonna f-fuck.” He groans, not giving your throat a rest as he continues to fuck your mouth. Moaning against his cock only encouraged, him to thrust harder. Your hand eventually lost its purpose as his cock was buried deep in your throat, causing you to gag relentlessly.

Your eyes fluttered up to his face, which was tense from his upcoming release. His lips parted slightly as he let his cum pour down your throat.

Slowly, you let the blondes cock fall from your mouth, a line of spit dribbling down your chin.

“Shit Katsuki, your still hard.” You say eyeing the males hard on as you slip off your pants and underwear.

“I wanna ride it.” You move back up to straddle his waist, your pussy aching from arousal of the blowjob you had just given. Desperately you take two fingers and rub them against your dripping cunt.

“Then fucking ride.” Bakugou groans at your actions, unable to deny you. You smirk as you take hold of his length and position it at your entrance. Cautiously, you let him fill your insides. His cock dragging so good against your walls.

“Shit Katsuki.” You moan, placing your hands on his chest for more stability. He sighs as you begin to rock back and forth on his cock. The rocking eventually turning into steady bouncing, Katsuki’s hands finding your hips.

“You fuck me, so good.” He grunts, allowing his hips to fall into rhythm with your bouncing. The lewd sound of slapping and simultaneous moans fill the atmosphere. A familiar warmth building in the pit of stomach.

“I’m g-gonna cum on your c-cock.” You feel him twitch against our walls as his grip on your hips tighten. His hips thrusting up erratically, chasing his own release. The sudden change in speed hitting something deep inside of you.

“R-right there Katsuki. Right there. Feels so good.” You whimper, losing all rythmn as he hits that spot deep inside you. After a few more moments of abusing you pussy, you cum your walls clamping tightly around his cock.

“If you don’t move I’ll cum inside.” He groans, but doesn’t stop. You slump over on his chest as he continues to fuck you into overstimulation.

“Fuck, cum inside.” You breathe heavily against his ear. Your boyfriend’s cock twitches desperately inside you as he nears his release. You let your teeth sink into his shoulder as he pumps his load into your pussy.

After coming down from your high you roll off of Katsuki and pull the covers over you both.

“I’m going to tell him, just give me a bit more time ok.” You say, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Bakugou then runs his hands through your hair and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I was just being an ass, take your time. I’m fine with waiting to be with someone I love.”

[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.”

[visit-ba-sing-se]

hey it is me again rewriting a scene from the comics with no compliance to canon nor context just because it was on my dash and bothered me 

“You know it wasn’t, Zuzu.” The words came out before Azula had thought them through, and she directly scolded herself for that. Sure, the current situation was bad, but she liked to believe that she had been in way greater danger before. And in those moments, her brain had usually worked pretty well. Which was the reason why she was even still alive now to be stuck in this mess. Of course, she had to admit, a few times it hadn’t. Which was again the reason behind the mess. “What?”  At least she had managed to catch her brother surprise. His grip loosened a bit, and the anger in his eyes faded a little to make room for confusion, which turned into disbelief and then again quickly into scepticism. After everything, his face was still like an open book, and she could see him shifting through the different pages as he tried figure out her intentions.

“Like this. Between us.” Azula shrugged, as much as that was possible in her current position. “You know. me trying to kill you…you locking me up..me trying to kill you again…you holding me over a cliff…” 

Azula did her best to sound casual as she spoke. As if she was telling a funny remark, not recounting the shambles the relationship between her an Zuko had fallen into, each one a sharp dagger of its own. But she herself could hear how much her voice sounded like it was about to crack. And a part of her did not even mind. That part that was just so tired of keeping her act up, again and again, everyday and at all times. She had played it so well. Had done so much to keep to keep everything, but first and foremost herself in control. And where had that even gotten her? On the edge of a cliff, from which her brother would may or may not throw her to death. So, if there had ever been a moment to put her cards on the table, wasn’t it now? 

“Azula, I have no idea what you are getting at.” 

The anger had returned onto her bothers face, and Azula did not know what was worse: the fact that she actually wondered if he would have it in himself to kill her, or how little she cared about the answer.

“And to be honest am really not in the mood for one of your mind games right now.”

She could not help but laugh. It wasn’t real laughter. Too bitter and too dry.  Not like she really remembered what her real laughter even sounded like.  Of course, that was what he thought. That she was still scheming, with her feet in the air and the abyss below. And had that not been the picture she had always tried so hard to convey? Why was she mad at him for buying exactly the show she was selling? Because he does not even try to look behind the curtains, a voice in her head whispered the answer. Zuko opened his mouth to say something else, but she interrupted him before that.

“I am not playing anything. I am just answering your question. Truthfully.” She emphasised the last word. Not for him, but more for herself. It was about time she did that. “You know we were different when we were kids. How we used to play together. How we snuck in the kitchen to steal food.How you taught me the first bending moves. How we warned each other when dad was in a bad mood. That was not us against each other. That was us against the rest.” She paused, to give her words the room and weight they deserved to have. “You cannot tell me you do not remember what tricks we used to play on the staff. Or what stories you used to tell me about the dragons when I had snuck into your room at night. Or what you swore me when Lu Ten went to war.” 

Her brothers reaction reaction told Azula that he did, just as well as her. Even though that night had been so long ago, and at least to her felt like it had happened in another universe. 

The day that their older cousins, who had kind of been like a second bigger brother to her, had announced that he would leave to conquer Ba Sing Se. Of course the adults had tried to play it down, but Azula had not fallen for their tales. She knew what war was. Or least, she had thought so. At. least she had already understood that sometimes people went there and did not return. And that now one of those people would be Lu Ten. 

She had refused to join the family during meals and even missed her lessons, for the only time in her life. All she had done was sit at a turtle duck pond and stare into the water, which no amount of yelling nor nice words from either parent had been able to change. Azula did not remember what excactly she had been thinking back then, except for the she sworn herself to never talk to any of them ever again. Which had worked quite well. Until Zuko had shown up to sit next to her and put a hand around her shoulder.

“Hey, don’t be so sad, Azula,” he had said, obviously trying to sound more cheerful than her really felt. “Lu Ten surely will come back soon and well.”

Azula did not know why, but after that her tears has just started to flow.

“Zuzu, he is abandoning me. Abandoning us.” She had sniffed, hiding her face between her hands. “How can he just do that? I thought he was our friend.”

“Because he had to fight in the war. Like our uncle. It’s important for our nation. And his duty.”

“Stupid duty!” Today, her own reaction seemed hilarious to Azula. But she knew that she had meant each word she had said, the way only a child can mean them. “I think if you really care for someone, you do not just leave them behind. Not for any duty.”

“Well, I know that I would never abandon you.” Her brother had responded, he too as convinced of his words as only a child could be . “Not for anything in the world.”

“Promise?” she had asked.

“Promise” he had said, and they had shaken hands dramatically, while looking each other deep in eyes. As if they had just sealed a very important and serious deal.

Now, Azula was staring at those exact same and yet so different eyes again. Still the same shade of gold, but one of them now scared.

In them, she saw understanding. And then a very, very deep regret. A regret not limited to the events of today, but that seemed to span over all of their lost days. She recognized it not only because it was so obviously written on his face, but because she felt it too. When her brother carefully put her down on her feet again, its weight on her shoulder nearly made her legs give in. 

“How only did we end up here?” Zuko asked finally, shaking his head. There was no more accusation in his voice. Just sadness and disbelieve. Azula wanted to reach out to him. As close as they were standing, it would have been easy to put her arm on his. But at the same time, he seemed to be so far away, and the divide that had built between them over years just felt uncrossable. 

When had it started? She wondered. When had she started seeing Zuko as friend and brother and more like an opponent? Like a rival for her parents approval? Had it been when her training had gotten more serious? Or when her father mood swings had gotten worse? Azula could not remember. What she remembered was how there suddenly had been this fear. This fear to fail and disappoint, that had come and chased every other motion away. That had numbed her feelings for anyone and anything else, except for this one need. This one need to be perfect. To be the best. 

“You know”, her brother continued after a moment, while Azula was still deep in her thoughts,  “I usually tell myself that this is what we were destined for. That we just were made to stand on opposing sides and fight. But-“ his voice cracked, and took a while until he continued talking. “But that’s not true. That’s just what they taught us. What he taught us. He just was so good at it.” 

She truly wanted to believe that he was right. But she had just reached another conclusion before. One that she hated to have had, and one that she even more hated to share. But she had wanted the truth in first place. So now there was no turning back.

“No. It was me. I ruined it. I was so obsessed with making father proud and…..I”,

 Azula forced herself to continue speaking even though she felt like she was choking on her words, “I sacrificed you for that. I…I sacrificed us.” She felt hot, burning tears on her cheeks, but she did not care enough to even swipe them away. What were a few tears for so much that was lost? 

“And now it’s all ruined. I….I`m sorry.”

“Azula…no”, she saw her brother reaching our his hand. Slowly and hesitant, as if he was afraid she would back away. But she did not, and so he put it down on her shoulder. “Azula, you were child. We both were. And I am sure there were times I could have been a better brother, but I was not. Like back then. But also today. And for those I am sorry, too.” 

There were tears in his eyes as well, Azula noticed, just like the slight crack in his voice. And she knew that he meant everything he said.

“And of course I am sorry for the years we lost, and I wish we could turn back time and make things different. But-,” Zuko paused, and Azula could tell that he was carefully considering each word, “we still can have so many years ahead. Maybe we can try to make this right. Maybe we can at least take our future back from them”

He brother looked at her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but also nervously twitching his free hand. 

Azula knew that he was excepting an answer to his proposal. She also it would be difficult, and that it might not even work. She also knew that there had been a time where her answer would have been a clear no. No risk. No trust. No dependency. That had been her default, and part of her strategy to success. And also how she had lost everyone that had ever mattered to her. But now, more than anything, she just wanted her brother back.

“You really think we could?”, she said therefore, “because I really do want these years.

“Yes I do”, Zuko smiled through his tears. “After all, I have a promise to keep.”

And then, after what had felt like an eternity, Azula hugged her bother again. (submit another scene if you enjoyed this?)

[forcefulkitten]

the cure

[pakunoda x fem! reader] 

summary: after waking up with a hangover, Pakunoda helps to relieve your suffering.

warnings: 18+, nsfw, oral sex, tribbing

word count: 1,911

Every time you wake up hungover with a splitting headache, you promise to never drink beyond your limit again. The nausea and stomach pains always linger behind, and all you can do is swallow an aspirin to quell the swollen brain pounding against your skull. Perhaps you deserve this since Pakunoda reminds you to drink plenty fluids and pace yourself but you never listen.

That brings you to this moment, wondering how your body managed to survive the amount of alcohol you consumed last night. You stumble around the house looking for your girlfriend but she’s nowhere to be found. As you approach the fridge and pour yourself a glass of water, you find a note on the counter. “Going to buy necessities. Be back soon.” Bringing the cup to your dry lips, you chug all of the water in one swig. You decide to go take a shower and freshen up. The least you can do is look alive when Paku gets back. Knowing her, she definitely went to grab stuff to ease your hangover. You’d think she’s tired of playing nurse whenever you cause your own downfall, but she’s always too worried about your well-being to complain.

You make your way over to the bathroom, turning the shower water on hotter than you probably should. Before you get in, an urge to vomit hits you. The water you drank in the kitchen must’ve upset your stomach because it came right back up. After puking out all of contents in your stomach, the feeling of nausea dissipates almost immediately after. This leaves you with a headache, foggy mind and an aching body. After brushing your teeth, you step into the shower. Sitting on the floor with your knees to your chest, you let the hot water fall over you. Before long you get up and begin to lather yourself with soap, rinsing off afterwards and getting out. You can’t even be bothered to put on clothes, instead going straight to your bed after drying yourself off.

The second you lay down you begin to feel dizzy. Looking for Paku, inevitably throwing up, taking a scorching shower and now laying down was too many changes of environment for your brain to handle. The purpose of showering was to relieve your headache and cleanse your body, yet you only achieved the latter. You manage to drift off to sleep while laying on your stomach, waiting for your girlfriend to come back and keep you company. Only her presence can distract you from how shitty you feel right now.

When Pakunoda arrives back home, she takes out everything she purchased and sets it on the kitchen counter. A box of tea, more aspirin, your favorite soup from a nearby restaurant, crackers, and 2 movies from the rental box. This should be enough to get you through the remainder of the day. The house is quiet as she tip toes to your shared bedroom. When she opens the door, she’s caught off guard by your naked body asleep on the bed. You’re still on your stomach, spread out on the bed with your head resting on one of your arms. Stepping forward to take a closer look at you, she notices that your face is scrunched as if you’re in pain or discomfort. Paku sits on the bed next to you, bringing her hand to massage your scalp and wake you up cautiously.

“You’re back” You give her a small smile while blinking the sleep away. “How are you feeling?” She asks. You love how soothing her voice is, serene at all times. “I have a headache and I don’t feel well.” You whine while tears start falling. Embarrassed that you're breaking down over a hangover, you cover your face with both of your hands. “You have to get up and walk around at least. I picked up some stuff for you, let’s go.” You shake your head no, reminding her of how stubborn you are.

Pakunoda starts to caress you slowly. Starting at the back of your neck, down your back and then back up. Her touch takes your mind off of the headache that’s still tormenting you. Soon, you find yourself perking your ass up each time she rubs over your lower back. She smirks to herself. The way you’re needy even in this state is amusing to her. She gets up from the bed and you huff at the loss of touch. You can hear clothes drop to the floor and when you look over, Paku is fully stripped. “How about this? I'll cater to you here and then you'll get up and let me take proper care of you.” Her arms are folded underneath her breast and you can’t decline anything she offers you like this. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You hadn’t even answered her back, too busy in awe at how stunning she looks.

You sit up and watch as Pakunoda makes her way towards you. Her beauty is like no other being you’ve ever laid your eyes on, and she would easily say the same thing about you. She gets on the bed, making her way to sit between your legs. Her eyes scan over your body, taking in your perfect features. She leans forward and cages you between her arms, peppering kisses on your face. Looking at you tenderly, she whispers, “Just lay back and enjoy.”

Paku pushes you down by your shoulders gently. Bringing one of her hands between your legs, she swirls your clit a few times before swiping over your heat. You’re already wet, and she begins to pump into you with two digits. You wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her closer to you and placing open mouth kisses on her lips. She parts them for you, letting her tongue intertwine with yours passionately. Her two fingers are still exploring you when she begins to circle her thumb around your swollen bud. She’s pressed so closely to you that her breast are rubbing against yours. The sensation of both your nipples touching makes you both mewl.

Pakunoda breaks off the kiss and positions her face between your legs. She pulls you as close to her as she can and wraps her arms around your thighs so you can’t move. Her mouth goes straight for your heat, lapping up your juices and bringing her tongue to suck on your clit. Her pace is slow, making sure that she doesn't overstimulate you so soon. Your hands find their way to tangle in her hair, pulling her even closer whenever you want her to apply more pressure. Hangover long forgotten at the moment, you buck your hips up against her, addicted to how well she knows your body. Paku moans against your wet folds, making vibrations course up your spine. She sticks her tongue in and out of your core and you roll your hips for her to reach deeper. Your moans are turning more high pitched, orgasm threatening to hit any second now. Paku’s hands find their way to your nipples, twirling them between her fingers. Bringing her mouth back up to your clit, your hands grip the sheets tightly when her tongue applies more force. You can hear the wet noises of your cunt soaking her face, and seeing her between your legs is a sight you won't ever forget. You unhook your legs from around her shoulders, using your feet to lift your hips up away from her mouth because the stimulation is too much. She gets up from laying on her stomach, hands holding your pussy up in the air by your thighs. Wrapping your legs around her shoulders once again, she locks you in place before sliding her tongue up and down your sex. You're silly to think you were getting away from her by lifting your bottom half up, only for her to follow you and keep you exactly where you inched up to. She’s licking your juices as if it’s her salvation. Her grip on you is like iron, and being pressed so tight to her makes the coil in your stomach snap, orgasm hitting you all at once. Paku stops lapping at your cunt, giving you time to come down from your high. Placing kisses to your slick folds, she untangles your legs from around her.

You should’ve known your girlfriend wouldn’t let you off easy. Sure, she’s going to take care of you after this. She knows a cure for each of your problems and nobody else can compare to how nurturing she is. With a smirk on her face she says, “I’m sorry sweetie, but this time the irresponsible decisions you made will cost you another orgasm.” Paku folds your legs back against your shoulders. Your pretty pussy glistening, she lines her sex up with yours and begins to grind against you. You stay perfectly still, resting your hands above hers where she’s holding you by back of your knees to keep you in place. Your delicate clit rubbing against hers is intoxicating. Paku moans while sliding from the top of your slit all the way down. You can feel your stomach beginning to tighten again and reach for her breasts. Kneading her soft skin, you pinch her perky nipples between your fingers. Her breasts are so sensitive that this always drives her crazy. She starts to roll her hips slower, trying to savor the feeling of your folds brushing against hers. You see strands her hair sticking to her forehead, your essence coating her chin and the way she comes undone with each grind of her hips. Her determination to make you cum a second time is endearing. A few more ruts against you and your orgasm washes over in waves of ecstasy. Pakunoda feels you clenching beneath her, the added slick coating her sex. You rock your hips upwards, desperate to send her over the edge. She lifts herself up, bobbing her clit against yours gently. Hearing your soaking folds intermingle together and the way you're playing with her nipples sends her over the moon. Suddenly all of the sensations become too much and her orgasm reaches its pinnacle. She continues to sway against you, legs shaking and cunt twitching. Within a few moments she releases you from her grasp afterwards and lays down beside you.

Both of your chests rise and fall while trying to regain composure. You reach your hand out to find hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Paku, can I ask you something?” You whisper between breaths, exhaustion evident in your tone. “Of course.” She responds, turning over to face you and placing a hand on your stomach. “Did you bring my favorite soup? You know.. the one you always get me when I’m hungover?” She giggles at your question before answering. “Yes I did. I’m going to go put it to warm it up on the stove. Can you get the shower started for us? When we get out you can have your soup.”

After putting your food to heat up, Pakunoda joins you in the shower. She washes you off and you make sure to return the favor. Bringing you into a hug, she lets the shower water run over your body while you bury your face in her neck. After the shower, Paku serves you a bowl of soup with crackers and the rest of your night is spent watching movies and drinking tea.

[maybe-itll-be-someday]

After The Rain

For my beautifully bright friend, @sequinsmile-x. 

Happy Birthday, sweet girl. I’d only ever be able to pull 2.5k words out of my math riddled brain for you. 

Read on AO3

--

Aaron always did hate the rain.

The rain always meant that he would have no choice but to stay inside, a witness to the bottles of whiskey that his father would consume and his mother’s indifference to the situation. The rain meant that he’d have to stay home from the library, where he spent hours perusing through books and living in between worn out spines. Instead, he’d stay holed up in his room until his father’s booming voice beckoned him out, the rain aggravating his already delicate temper another notch.

It drizzled the day that they lowered his mother into the ground. Barely 25, his only suit hanging off his shoulders and circles under his eyes from nights he spent reading through cases and making his life more than his father’s ever was. He doesn’t cry as her casket gets lowered six feet beneath them, so the sky softly weeps on his behalf.

It rains the day that Haley leaves him. He comes home to their apartment, a light smattering of rain drops on their window as he takes in the empty space of their living room. Jack’s favorite toys are gone from the living room floor, where he spent hours stacking blocks and attempting to shove shapes into the wrong holes. The clothes she left in their closet were non-essentials - not anything they needed to live their everyday lives.

(It’s only fitting that he gets left behind too.)

It storms the day he makes the decision to send Emily off to Paris, his heart in his throat when he tells their superiors that the only way they could keep her safe is by letting everyone think that she was dead. Tears sting in his eyes and his fingers cramp from the intensity in which he’s holding the pen as he signs away to her new life, one that just recently slotted him in like a neat puzzle piece.

Thunder rumbles above them when he squeezes her hand, promising her that he would find Doyle and that he would bring her home. The skies crack open and the rain starts to fall when he gets to stamp his affection for her on her lips, sealing whispered promises he had no idea if he could keep.

So he takes the assignment in Pakistan, because when the sky splits open on a Wednesday night, he feels like he’s drowning.

At least it didn’t rain in the desert.

--

It rains on their third date, much to his dismay.

He should’ve checked the weather forecast before committing to taking her on a picnic in the park on a rare weekday off. He even goes to a boutique wine store in DC, asking for advice on what kind of wines would go best with which cheese because he wants to impress her. He wants the flavours to melt on her tongue to be the same sharp contrast of salty and sweet that lingered on his tongue when he tasted her. He buys her favorite wine, wrapped in a label that’s worn with time, because he wants to show

He just wants to tell her how he feels, but it’s way too soon. She’s only been back in the States for a few months, their romance rekindled in the past few weeks.

So instead, he tries to plan every moment of their date to the perfection she deserved.

If only he had checked the weather.

Emily had shown up at his door, white linen flowing down from thin straps and cinching around her waist, delicately draping right above her knees and his mouth going dry at the sight of her. She wrapped her fingers around his neck and kissed him in greeting, his own hands greedily grabbing the fabric under his hands and internally debated if they could forgo the picnic and instead eat the overpriced cheese he bought off of her skin.

But her eyes brightened when she saw the picnic basket he had prepared, running a finger and reading the labels of everything he bought in perfect intonation to their native languages.

“Where did you get all of this?” She had asked, cheeks dusted in a light pink at the realization that he had done this all for her.

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll tell you.” He’s always been attuned to her movements - a careful eye thrown in her direction. It had started just as a precaution, his opinions on her joining the BAU still up for debate.

It had slowly and too easily transformed into something else completely. It was probably the reason why he had gone to four different delis in DC, tracking down cheese he couldn’t pronounce the names of and two bottles of wine that he thinks cost him more than all the wine he’s ever bought in his life.

He remembers the first time he caught it. Reading a report from over her shoulder, their relationship refining its rough edges as they slipped closer and closer together. He remembers the smell of her perfume, the soft scent of something floral in his nose as he read through her report.

“Good.” He had said, a soft hand on her shoulder in approval when her shoulders tightened ever so slightly. Not in annoyance, or in anger, but in a frustration that he thinks had to do with the way her hips shifted in her seat. He was just starting to learn about her, of the mole that was tucked on her collarbone, of the small rose tattoo on her ribs and the dove that flew across her hip bone.

He spent his time exploring which patches of skin produced which noises, which angle of his caused her to grip whichever part of him she was holding tighter, and which words caused his name to roll off of her tongue in a sweet cacophony of moans.

Her pupils darkened at his approval, his touch igniting something under her skin that when he said it later that night, wrapped in her silk sheets - the words good girl dropped in the middle of unintelligible mutters - she had arched into him and her thighs clamped down around his hips as she urged him to go deeper and faster, chasing her release by embedding him under her skin.

Another button he’s learned how to press and his delight grew as her pupils widened at his words.

“As long as I can hold you to that.” He wanted to tug her back into his bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that his apartment was kid-free for once but she just cackled and tugged on his hand, telling him to grab the picnic basket because she was starving .

They find a secluded area of Potomac park and he asks her to explain whatever it is he bought, because he really was only working off of the recommendations of the elderly Italian woman at the first deli who had written down all the cured meats and cheeses that he should buy when he mentioned it would be for his girlfriend.

Emily tells him which wine would go best with which cheese and he feeds her grapes and cherries that stained her lips in a soft pink, stealing soft kisses when he lingers close enough and enjoying the blush that spreads on her skin when his hand draws soft circles on the inside of her knee.

The dark, grey sky looms over them without warning, the clouds splitting open to let fat drops of rain land on the very expensive cheese that he thinks is an absurd amount for pressed curds of milk. Aaron starts to quickly pack their picnic, calculating the amount of time that it’s going to take to get to the car that they’ve parked on the other side of the road and wonders why the rain was determined to ruin what was going to be one of his favorite memories.

“Aaron.” She says, chuckling and running a hand down his back. “It’s only the rain.”

But she also notices the way his body has gone rigid, jaw set in a tight line as he continues to pack the food back into the basket. He flinches when a particularly fat raindrop hits the back of his neck and she frowns at his reaction.

But she doesn’t press, instead helping him pack away all of their food and letting him coral her under a nearby tree just as the rain pelts the ground in heavy, loud waves. The rain was torrential, their visibility limited to the first twenty feet in front of them and Aaron already knows that they won’t make it back to the car without getting soaked, if they could find it in the downpour.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He mutters, fists curled tightly and Emily pushes the wet curls across his forehead and brushes off his apology.

“It’s not like you can control the weather.”

“I should’ve checked--” He protests.

“It’s okay, I actually like the rain.” Her head cocks, appraising him with a careful eye and Aaron knows that he doesn’t have to tell her that he isn’t a big fan of the rain. She stares at him for a moment longer and as he is about to suggest they sprint back to the car, her hand slips into his and she tugs him out from under the shade of the tree and right into the downpour.

“Emily, what are you doing ?” He asks, his voice loud to try and compete with the rain that was battering the ground beneath them. Emily doesn’t respond, instead keeping a firm grip on his hand as the drops of water soaked her skin, causing the white fabric around her to cling to her skin.

“Dance with me.” She says, a gentle tug on his hand pulling him closer.

“There’s no music.” He says and she just laughs, his pedantics having the opposite effect on her as she steps closer to him, lifting the hand in hers as his arm loops instinctively around her waist. He’s about to protest again, because they really should be getting back to the car because the food is in a wooden basket under a tree, but she tips her lips on his and effectively stops his protests before they begin.

Her temple brushes against his cheek, and the taut pull of his muscles releasing slightly. She curls into him, her hand resting on the small of his back as his palm flattens across her shoulders, his thumb edging the outline of its blade. A shiver runs up her spine at the contact, the warmth of his fingers a sharp contrast to the rain that slid on their skin. She starts leading him in a gentle sway, their movements oddly on beat with the beating of the rain.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never danced in the rain, Hotchner.” He shrugs, a playful smile gracing his lips.

“I’m not in the habit of catching a cold or freezing in wet clothes.” Emily laughs, the soft lilt of it wrapping his heart in a warmth that causes those three words to curl dangerously at the end of his lips.

“The rain isn’t all bad.” She says, glancing up towards the dark sky as she lets the rain pound on her skin. “It brings the flowers. It cleans the air. It helps us savor the sunshine just a little bit more.”

Her fingers twine around a damp strand of his hair at the base of his neck, the scrape of her nails eliciting the release of the tension in his shoulders. He pulls her a little closer, taking the lead her in a soft shuffle

“The rain brings the rainbows.” She says, a soft smile curling at the edge of her lips, as if she was telling him a secret he wasn’t supposed to know about.

He didn’t think he’d ever find himself dancing in the rain. The torrential background of some of his more unpleasant memories is the same background that makes his chest want to split open to let all the light that was building inside of him out. To let the three words that curl dangerously at the edge of his lips to tumble out laced in a million promises and praises he wanted to give to her.

He didn’t think he’d find himself here, her soft figure pressed against his as the rain soaked their skin. He didn’t think he’d get to imprint his affection for her against her lips, tasting the sweet tartness of the cherries that stained her lips. He didn’t think he’d ever get to have her.

The words slip from his lips, his affection for her pouring from him with no warning or forethought. He just needs to tell her because he’s happy, and he doesn’t think he’d ever be this happy in the rain .

“I love you.” He says breathlessly, panic rising in him as she stiffens in his arms. “You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know.”

But she giggles, bright and brilliantly, and tugs his lips right onto hers and says that she loves him too.

If this was his rainbow, he’d happily let it storm for the rest of his life.

--

The next time it rains, he is the one to tug her into the park across the street. He takes her hand and leads her in a waltz he definitely doesn’t know, the cadence of her laugh sweet and light in the air. He sings Blackbird in her ear, low and whispered, because she’s always brought out a side of him that he thought he could keep buried under steel-reinforced walls.

He’d give every side of him to her, if she asked.

Maybe they’d make enough of these memories, of the rain soaking them to the bone but they would laugh and he’d make her hot chocolate after and he’d peel the heavy fabric of her dress off of her skin as she laughed and tell him to hurry up because Emily Prentiss was anything but patient.

Maybe they’d make enough memories to clean the stained ones that followed him whenever it rained.

Aaron always did hate the rain.

But with her, he hated it a little bit less.

--

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 38- Elephant in the Room

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

Having all of class A pile into your room is just as chaotic as you expected it would be and you love it. Shoto had insisted on keeping you wrapped up in his arms the entire time, being adorably protective of you as your rambunctious classmates shoved into the limited space of your hospital room. Denki had even managed to drag Shinso along with. You’d thrown him a wink when you noticed the way he’d been holding Shinso’s hand and Denki’s answering grin was so bright it had practically lit up the room. You understand why Yaomomo had been so concerned about overwhelming you though. Your classmates have a million well wishes and questions for you. They sing your praises, with Mina commenting how badass you looked fighting your father at least fifty times, but you can’t help but notice that their eyes keep lingering on the right side of your face a touch too long. Furthermore, despite their praise, not a single person has told you what happened during all the chaos in detail nor what had happened after your collapse that day.

“Not to kill the vibe but can we address the elephant in the room? Why do you all keep looking at my face like that?” you finally ask. The room goes quiet as everyone gets awkward. Sero’s the first to speak up. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?” he asks cautiously, scratching the back of his neck. “No? Is that a come on?” you ask. “Not this time angel, but maybe later,” he replies with a wink. “Sero,” Todoroki cuts in as he glares over your shoulder. You feel the bass of his warning through your back as it vibrates through his chest, but as Sero throws Shoto a sheepish grin and puts his hands up in surrender, you remind yourself to stay on task. “Seriously guys, why should I check a mirror?” you insist, drawing your classmates’ attention again. They exchange looks before Yaomomo finally sighs. She quickly makes you a small mirror and passes it to you. “You should probably see for yourself,” she explains. You hold the mirror up and suck in a breath. Your hair is still its natural half black-half white coloring but you expected as much. The more shocking reveal is the spider web of black veins extending out from your right eye. You gingerly reach up to touch it with one hand. “They were all over the right side of your body right after you collapsed so we just assumed it would get better as you did but...” Midoriya trails off. He doesn’t finish the sentence but you get the message: the veins probably won’t be fading any time soon; another reminder you’d keep of your connection to your father for the rest of your life. Just like your hair, you could maybe cover it up but it’s unavoidable. You’d never truly be rid of him would you?

Before you can spiral any further Shoto pulls you in closer, hooking his chin over your right shoulder so both of your faces are visible in the mirror. “It’s another way we match,” he says simply. You turn so you can look him in the eye, emotions welling up in your chest. It’s as if he had read your mind. “You sure you don’t have a third mind reading quirk Sho-chan?” you ask a little wetly, tearing up the slightest bit. “It’s just you I can read well,” he tells you, smile soft. Another way you and Shoto match. That’s something you can get behind. You’re about to lean in for another kiss when you’re interrupted by the sound of Hagakure, Uraraka, and Mina gushing “awwww,” at the blatant show of affection. The sound makes you jump, having momentarily forgotten it isn’t just you and Shoto in the room. “Shut up,” you groan, causing your friends to laugh at your expense. “Wait, wait but I have one more question,” you insist before your friends can move on, “what exactly happened after I collapsed? What happened to Dabi? My father? I mean, shit, what happened to me?”

The hush that falls over the room is concerning to say the least. Even Shoto is suddenly stiff as a board behind you. “Guys? You’re scaring me a little,” you say nervously as the room remains quiet, no one quite knowing how to start. “Did I... Did I kill my dad?” you ask quietly. The reaction to your question is immediate, your classmates’ heads snapping to yours in disbelief, but Bakugo is the first to reassure you. “No dumbass, that piece of shit is still breathing for some reason. Can’t use his quirk for shit anymore though and already rotting away in Tartarus,” he tells you, his brusque tone surprisingly soothing. “Dabi was brought in too thanks to Todoroki,” Kirishima adds. “Ok, then why did you all react like somebody died?” you huff. You’re not expecting Shoto to be the one to respond but his hands tighten around your waist, his face hidden in your shoulder as he replies, “Because you did.” “What?” “Hey I just remembered I totally forgot to grab this one thing I wanted to bring. Can you guys help me get it?” Mina asks suddenly. “Oh yea I could use some help too if the people who don’t go with Mina can come with me,” Midoriya adds, picking up on what Mina is trying to do. “But I-,” Denki starts to say but Shinso nudges him and gives him a look. “Ohhhh yea. Uh, right, totally can come help!” Denki amends before the rest of your class leaves the room to give you and Shoto some privacy.

You try to twist so you can look at Shoto properly but it only makes him tighten his grip around you even more. “Sho-chan let me look at you, c’mon,” you try to encourage but he stubbornly refuses to move, clearly wanting to minimize the amount of distance between the two of you. “Ok, how about we lay down and then I’ll turn to face you so I can stay close but we can have a proper conversation ok?” you ask. Shoto sighs as he seems to mull over the compromise before finally nodding. Even as the two of you adjust to the new position he doesn’t let you go too far. It takes a second but finally the two of you find a comfortable position that gives you space to talk but also satisfies Shoto’s desire to keep you close. “Sho-Chan what did you mean when you said I died?” you prompt gently. “Your heart stopped shortly after you collapsed,” he explains, “I got to you as soon as I had dealt with Dabi but you were just lying there so still and so much of your body was covered in those black veins and you wouldn’t wake up. Then... Then I checked your pulse and there was nothing.” Your heartbeat stutters in your chest. It hadn’t occurred to you, in all honesty, that doing what you did to stop your father could kill you. Nor did it occur to you who you’d be leaving behind. “I started doing CPR until the paramedics came but I... (y/n)-chan I lost it. Bakugo and Midoriya had to drag me away so the paramedics could work I-.” “Hey it’s ok, I’m right here,” you cut him off gently, reaching both hands up to caress his face. His eyes shine with unshed tears and there’s something desperate in their heterochromatic depths as he looks deeply into yours. “Promise me you’ll never do something like that again, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Shoto confesses quietly. “I promise,” you reply without hesitation before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

You let him process for awhile longer, absorbing in his confession and the weight of his words. You reassure him that you’re here and ok and have no intentions of going anywhere. You can’t help but think it’s no wonder he refused to leave the hospital if this is how he’s been feeling. “From now on we’ll do it all together. Shoto and (y/n) versus the world, just like when we were kids. Deal?” you ask him eventually, offering up your pinky. “Deal,” he tells you with a soft smile as he links his pinky with yours. “Good, I’ll hold you to that,” you tell him. “I’d never violate a pinky promise,” Shoto deadpans, causing a fit of giggles to bubble up out of your chest. “You’re such a dork,” you grin before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey (y/n)?” Shoto asks suddenly. “Yea?” “I love you.” Your heart rockets into your throat at the words but somehow you still manage to return the sentiment: “I love you too.”

A/N: After they had a little more time to process and calm down, (y/n) texted the others to let them know they could come back. Shoto had genuinely thought they needed to go out and do something so he was confused why (y/n) had to give them permission to return until she spelled it out for him. In other news this will probably be the second to last chapter of history of us. Thank you all so much for going on this journey with me, I love and appreciate each and every one of you.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @shot0stea @todoplusultra @oliviasslut @lapysllazuly @immah0e4fictionalmen @cinnamonruts @koifishq

[soniaxdixon]

New Series, pt. 1 - Until Now

A NEW SERIES Y’ALL. Okay, I’m so excited for this one. It’s a friends to lovers <3 I need help thinking of a title so let me know!!

Warnings: Swearing

y/n and Daryl grew up together before y/n left for college, not long after, the world ended and Daryl had already left their town. y/n finds Daryl at the bottom of the ravine on his search for Sophia. After bringing him back to his people, they welcome y/n with open arms allowing the romance between y/n and Daryl to flourish.

Word Count: 2120

 You paced the woods trying to pick up on the trail of the deer you had been tracking, suddenly drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a horse and someone in pain. Without thinking, you ran towards the sound, stopping quickly as your body was almost thrown over the edge of a ravine.

“Shit” You mumbled as you tried to focus on the body that laid still down the bottom. You could see blood spilling around him and knew you had to be fast if you were going to help. You found your way down without too many injuries, a few cuts and bruises and a sprained ankle but nothing compared to this guy.

You walked closer, cautious as to if he was still alive or about to turn. Finally you were able to focus on his face. You threw yourself to the floor next to him.

“Holy shit, no fucking way. Daryl?” He didn’t respond as his body laid still. Your head flew to his chest to listen for a heart beat. You could hear one as well as feel the rise and fall of his chest. “Daryl wake up. It’s me. I need you to wake up. It’s y/n” You placed your head on his chest as he began to stir beneath you. Your head shot up as you looked down at his slowly opening eyes, they were as blue as you remembered.

“God first I’m seein’ Merle and now it’s you. How hard did I hit my damn head. Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his head and you chuckled, throwing your arms around him. His entire body went rigid at the contact. You were real.

————

Daryl lifted the last of your stuff into the back of your car. “Ya promise to call me every damn day that ya gone.”

“Yes sir. I promise. I’ll miss you D but I’ll be back by Christmas.”

“Yeah I know.”

You stood up on your toes and placed a small kiss on his cheek, turning on your heels quickly so Daryl couldn’t see the shade of red your cheeks now were but the colour of his cheeks matched yours.

“Back by Christmas.” You muttered, loud enough so he could hear.

“Ya better be.”

You and Daryl had grown up together. You did everything together, knew everything about each other, well almost everything. You never told him that you loved him. He never admitted his love for you. The fear of ruining the friendship the two of you had overpowered any ideas of a confession of love. The day you left for college was one of the hardest days of Daryl’s life, watching you drive away and towards a future quite possibly without him in it broke him that day.

You hadn’t even made it home before the world went to shit, you never got to reunite with Daryl.

Until now.

Here you were, crouched down at the bottom of a ravine, the reunion you hadn’t exactly dreamt of but wanted for so long. Daryl’s body was bruised and broken with a bolt through his left side. “Daryl, come on. I need you to sit up so we can figure out whatever is happening here.”

Daryl forced himself to sit up, his breathing was ragged as he clenched his teeth. His hands held where the bolt had pierced his side. You gently placed your hands over his to move them, he flinched at the contact and then hissed in pain at his sudden movement.

“I need you to let me see, we need to pull it out so we can bind it properly.”

Daryl moved his hands away carefully as his eyes focused on you. You were certainly a welcomed distraction. How did you even find him? You were even more beautiful than he remembered, the way the light reflected off the water and bounced off your eyes, giving off a certain light themselves, the ones that could ignite the fire in his chest so instantly. He wondered if-

His thoughts were interrupted by you ripping the bolt through his side and proceeding to shove a piece of ripped cloth over the wound to limit the amount of blood loss.

“MOTHER FUCKING SHIT BASTARD!” He yelled before his brain could even process what was happening.

“There, that was easy right? Please tell me you have a camp around here, I hope you do because you need stitches and fast.” You slipped your belt off and wrapped it around his waist securing the cloth and again, limiting the blood flow even more.

“Yeah, I’m stayin on a farm.”

You and Daryl managed to make it up the sides of the ravine and made your way towards the farm. Daryl Was stumbling along, barely able to walk but pushing himself nonetheless. You stumbled as quickly as you could with your ankle now swelling to twice its usual size.  The farm was now in sight as you walked slowly behind Daryl, hobbling along at your own pace. Four men ran towards you and Daryl as you froze. Daryl was still slightly ahead of you when a man pointed a gun at his head.

“Third time ya pointed that thing at me. Ya gonna pull the trigger?” Daryl yelled.

At the sudden realisation that Daryl was not a walker, the attention was on you, the gun now aimed at your head.

“She’s with me.”

BANG

You closed your eyes, did they just shoot you? No, there was no pain. Your eyes opened to see Daryl now on the floor. The man who held the gun began yelling “NO!”

shit, shit, shit. You dove on the floor, checking where he was shot, the bullet grazed his head. Two of the men lifted Daryl up and began hurriedly walking towards the farm. Adrenaline pumped through you as your focus was now on a woman who ran towards the six of you.

“Oh my God, is he dead?” She asked.

“You the one that shot him?” Your focus quickly on her.

“I thought he was a walker.”

You walked up to the girl, your hand balled in a fist as your swung hard into her left cheek, sending her to the floor. “Fucking dumbass.” You limped away, towards the farmhouse as she remained on the floor, clutching her face.

An old man ran out of the house.  “Take him up to the spare room, I’ll get my kit.”

Daryl’s surgery was quick, a few stitches and some pain killers. Then the attention was on you again as you sat on the bed next to Daryl. Close but not close enough to be touching.

“Thank you for saving him, my name is Rick Grimes.” Rick extended his hand to shake yours.

“Y/n y/l/n and it’s no problem. When I saw it was Daryl, there was no way I was leaving him there.”

“You know Daryl?”

“We grew up together” Daryl interrupted.

You smiled at him. “I left for college just before everything went to shit, by the time I made it home, Daryl was gone.”

Daryl looked solely at you know. “If I knew ya’d be comin’ back to town, I would have waited for ya.”

“Daryl, I saw the state of our town, you were right to leave as soon as you could.” Your hand brushed his slightly before he pulled his hand away and up to his mouth, succumbing to his habit of chewing on the skin around his thumb.

Rick stood up from his chair, “I’m gonna go and get you guys some food, I’ll send Hershel back to look at your ankle, y/n”

“Thanks, Rick.”

Rick left the room leaving you and Daryl in there alone. You looked at the archer who was already looking up at you sending shivers down your spine. You reached gently towards his head, pushing his hair away from his bandage that wrapped around where the girl had shot him.

“Heard ya hit Andrea pretty hard.” Daryl chuckled.

“Yeah, I don’t know what came over me, I just, seeing you hurt and knowing she was the one that did it…”

“I know what ya mean, It’s like, remember when Johnny broke up with ya, back in high school?”

“Oh my God, yes, I was heart broken.”

“Ya remember how he came to school a couple of days later, with a broken nose and he said it was a-”

“A snowboarding accident. Yeah I remember.”

“Well it wasn’t, I went to his house that night, hit him square in the face, broke his nose and busted his lip in one hit.”

“Oh my God, Daryl.” You both laughed “He was such an asshole to me, I don’t know why I liked him so much.”

“Me neither, ya deserved so much better.” Your eyes locked with his as your hand moved from his hair down to his cheek. The tips of his ears burned red as you leaned down ever so slightly. His eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.

Rick walked in with two plates of food, startling both you and Daryl, sending you off the bed and onto your bad ankle. You yelped in pain before sitting back down on the bed, both yours and Daryl’s cheeks flushing red.

“I uh, what was happening?” A slight smirk on Rick’s face

“Nothing!” You and Daryl responded in unison.

“Uhh, alright then, here’s your food, Hershel will be here in a sec to check your ankle.” Rick looked between the two of you, the smirk on his face grew.

You and Daryl ate your dinner in silence, pausing half way through your meal when Hershel, the old man, walked in. He examined your ankle and you winced.

“It’s not broken, just sprained, should heal itself soon but you should keep it elevated for the next couple of days. Unfortunately this is our only spare bed as Carl is in our other one.”

Daryl looked between you and Hershel “S’ okay, I’ll head back to my tent tonight.”

“Daryl, no. I can sleep on the chair, I’ll use the bed as a foot rest. It’ll be the best sleep I’ve had in a while, trust me.”

“I’ll let the two of you figure it out. Just keep it elevated.” Hershel left the room, leaving you and Daryl alone again.

“Take the bed, I’ll take the chair.” Daryl said as he tried to push himself out of the bed but struggled.

“You can hardly move, you take the bed, I’ll take the chair.”

“Nah, not happenin”

“I mean, we could both take the bed. If you’re okay with that.”

Daryl froze at your words. “It’s either that or I take the chair, Daryl.”

“Nah, I’ll move over, hold up.” Daryl shifted his body as close to the edge of the bed as he could. You moved yourself from your sitting position to under the covers, lying next to Daryl, far enough apart that you weren’t touching. Daryl reached over and flicked the lamp off as you got comfortable and closed your eyes. Your attempt to stifle a yawn didn’t work as you let the comfort of the bed surround you.

“Thanks for saving me.” Daryl mumbled.

“You would have done the same for me.”

It was true, he would go to the ends of the earth for you, do anything you asked him to. After all this time, his feelings for you never changed. Neither yours for him. You both fell asleep with ease, by the middle of the night you were tangled in each others arms.

You woke up as the first light settled in the room, you were definitely not in the position you had fallen asleep in, no, now your body was pressed up against his body, his arm was draped around you. Your stomach flipped with emotions. If it were up to you, you would stay in this position for eternity but what if he didn’t feel the same way. Surely he didn’t, the way he flinched every time you touched. But what about the moment the two of you shared last night. You were pulled from your thoughts as you felt him stir behind you slightly. You carefully removed his arm and pushed yourself back to the edge of the bed before he woke up.

He was already awake. He woke before you but remained still with his arm wrapped around you like he had always dreamt of. But when he felt you push away from him, he closed his eyes quickly and pretended to be asleep. You obviously didn’t want him touching you. Maybe you didn’t feel the same way about him. But what about the moment you shared last night?

[rosecolouredmind]

Savior

Nicholas Scratch x Reader

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Part Three:

The Broken Boy

Now there were two.

Or at least, the only sounds being made now were the quiet sobs still being let out from the poor figure now in front of you.

You’d sent Lucifer away with a banishment sigil, though with how powerful he was and your lack of familiarity with your domain, he should be back soon. You felt a lot more drained than you did when you first came in, the spell taking a lot out of you. You now realized that your visit came with a time limit, and would only last as long as the remaining energy in your core did. The flesh acheron had you currently separated from the stars, so it was only natural that your power was unable to replenish itself here.

But at least, now you were alone with the boy.

You exerted a bit more power to make the space a more welcoming, eliminating the eerie red scenery in exchange for something milder. An endless white replaced it in a flash; you weren’t exactly a living human for long and didn’t know much about what comforted them, you realized glumly.

It seemed as if they boy didn’t notice the change in scenery, failing to even flinch. Back and forth, back and forth. He endlessly rocked as mumbled jargon poured listlessly from his mouth. Though it isn’t your first time pitying humans, this was the first time that you were face to face with the cruelty Fate was capable of. The sentiment fed into your growing discomfort with the situation.

Cautiously, you drew closer. Once you stopped in front of him, you slowly lowered yourself until you were truly able to look him in the face.

Dampened hair stuck to his forehead, pale and leaking a cold sweat. Raised goosebumps clearly visible over taught muscles were felt under your fingertips, gently stroking his arm in comfort.

A sharp gasp and a quick hand nearly made you yelp out in shock yourself, your wrist now held in a tight grasp. Panicked eyes met your own, dark and deep and boding. You felt your very soul tremble as if it were crying, as if you were crying.

It wasn’t until you noticeably felt a liquid drop culminate at the tip of your nose before splattering did you realize that you were.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you cooed, attempting to make eye contact. 

Your gaze meets frantic mirrors of desperation, anguish and torture reflecting in the muddy pools that stared back at you. 

As if it was natural to you, your hands rise to caress his face. His skin feels warm beneath your fingers, and you hold back a shudder. Concentrating, you focused deep on the constant thrumming of your soul and willed your core to mimic these pulsations through your body and out your fingertips, your hands now glowing the color of moonlight.

You can’t undo what Lucifer has done and possibly will do to him, but you were confident that you could make your presence a beacon and relieve some of the burden for him.

The boy leaned into your hands, and for a long while you just watched entranced as his eyelids fluttered while he took the time he needed to calm down. Finally, he looked up at you. The panic had now been replaced with sheer exhaustion, and you wanted nothing more than to protect him.

“Who are you?” he croaked, eyes flooding in tears. They flowed silently down his face, following familiar track marks of the rivers before them. His fingers tightened around yours, afraid of letting go. Afraid that if he let go, you would disappear. This was the first time he felt relief in what felt like an eternity, and all he could focus on was the figure in front him. You paid no mind to his tight grip, electing to settle yourself between his knees, getting as close as you possibly could.

“I’m here to help you, it’s okay,” you repeat softly.

“Wh-where did he go? The...the Dark Lord,” he quivered, muscles tensing up at the mere thought of the man. You felt your heart go out to him, your own eyes becoming misty as well.

“I sent him...away. He will return, but not for a while at least.”

Of course you couldn’t separate them completely, this was still in part Lucifer’s mind as well, and you had an inkling that although this wasn’t the actual place, the flesh acheron, this boy’s body, was somewhere in Hell. Your energies felt off, as if they didn’t belong. That would normally only happen in a territory outside of the scope of a stela’s domain, and Hell fit that description perfectly.

Your powers weren’t nearly as strong here, and you could only offer him temporary reprieve. But it is something, and that’s all that matters.

“What’s your name?” you question, intending on keeping him present and away from the dark, straying thoughts no doubt threatening to plague his mind. He stayed silent for a while, attempting to anchor himself while he focused on the near healing effect you radiated.

“...It’s Nick,” he eventually responded.

“Okay, Nick, tell me. What makes you happy?”

Nick thought for a long while, but couldn’t gather his thoughts. His mind had been ravaged so thoroughly by the Dark Lord that any notions of happiness had long since been replaced by terrors he could only have imagined before being tortured by Satan himself. He started to shake his head, then more and more vigorously. You reached for his face again, realizing your question set off another round of panic.

“That’s okay Nick, you don’t have to think about it. How about we go somewhere that makes me happy instead, hm?”

Your creativity and knowledge of the human mind was close to zero, but there was once place you’d always wanted to see.

You had Nick close his eyes as you closed your own, visualizing the sights and sounds you wanted to experience. Soon, the soothing crash of waves could be heard in the background, your eyes opening to an expanse of sand being gently eroded by the clear blue water of the ocean. You felt a bit weaker at the manifestation, but the boy in your arms was even more so, and your heart went out to him.

You shifted yourself so Nick’s forehead was now resting on your chest, giving him all the time he needed to settle before he opened his eyes again.

His breathing was deeper now, and less erratic. You waited for it to become completely even before you attempted to speak again, Nick lifting his head in order to study your features.

“I’ve always wanted to see the ocean,” you sigh gently. “I wasn’t able to when I was human.”

“Why not?” he asked quizzically, resulting in a smile from you. You were glad he was speaking, and continued to talk before he got distracted again.

“I died very, very young. I hadn’t really even started my life before the Fates took me for their purpose,” you explained. “And after that, well, I never really thought I’d see Earth again so there wasn’t much of a point.”

You tried coaxing more out of him, like his name, likes, dislikes. His answers were simple, and he had to think about some a lot longer than others, but he put effort into answering each question. You continued to describe your ties to fate to him as he patiently listened. He nodded along thoughtfully, before going quiet again.

“Nick?” you question, worry laced in your tone.

“Is this really what Fate had planned for me?” he asked quietly, looking down at his knees. Tears instantly blurred your vision once again, but you didn’t acknowledge them.

“No, sweetie, of course not,” you grab his face once again. His watery eyes mirror yours, yet you refused to let the first one fall.

“Your fate is so much more than this. This is only temporary. You have to believe me on that.” you urge.

“But I’m tired,” the sheer amount of hopelessness emitted off him in waves. “I don’t think I can make it,” the break in his voice was enough to collapse the dam on your tears, and you clutched him to your chest.

“No, baby, no. You can. You’re strong. I’ll be here for you. I’ll come back.”

“You promise?” he cracked.

“I promise.”

You held him for a while longer, shushing him against the rumble of the waves as you stared out at the water. You’d never felt more determined to do something in your life, but you will save this boy. You meant it with your heart and soul.

A while later you felt your figure start to fade, and you knew your borrowed time in Hell had reached its end. Nick frantically began clutching at you, using one hand to caress your face like you had his, “Will you really come back?”

Begging eyes pinned your soul down and for the first time in your life, you cursed the fates. Cursed how they could allow this boy to suffer far more than he deserved, and put you in a position to witness it. No one deserved this. Not even the fickle humans. If they were meant to suffer like this...

Maybe this was what you were sent to Earth for.

Visiting the flesh acheron, and by extension, Hell, for as long as you have took not only your power, but the power of the fates as well. If you came here again, it wouldn’t be for nearly as long, and would exhaust a huge chunk of power every time you did so. But as you face the boy in front of you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him.

You’d figure it out, you’d make something up, you’d lie; Tell them Lucifer was being an uncooperative dickhead, which isn’t exactly wrong anyway — anything to be able to make your way here again.

You had to.

With a few more whispered promises and broken sobs, you eventually fade away. It wasn’t until you noticed the sandy shore beneath you had been replaced with slowly moving constellations did you allow yourself to look up again, the impatient eyes of the council piercing through you.

You’d already gotten rid of any trace of tears, your mind going a million miles a minute conjuring up a plan to save Nick. You knew you had bigger priorities than one human, a single soul; Earth and her millions of souls were on the brink of annihilation yet all you could think about was one boy.

But something in you, deep in your core screamed that this was important to you, he is important to you.

Maybe it's because you’re soft, maybe it’s because he’s your first lost soul, maybe it's because it’s Fate, but as you waved an intricate web of truth and lies while you built your case with the council -- of how freeing Lucifer from the flesh acheron was of the utmost importance, of how often you’d probably need to be sent there to attempt to do so;

Your heart was nearly pounding through your ribcage at the thought of seeing that boy and his pitiful soul once again.

And as Lucifer, upon his return, ranted and roared and raged something mighty, Nick desperately held on in anticipation of your next arrival.

*

Author’s Note: Next part is out as well! They’re both shorter chapters so I did a double update as well. They would have been out a lot sooner if tumblr didn’t delete my damn editing progress when I tried to insert a photo — I nearly cried. Creating those secondary headers is WERK but not as much as editing this shit? I should sue. I got mad and stopped for a while bc I’m a petty bitch, so if you see mistakes blame Tumblr for crashing. I will also insert links to chapters later, I don’t feel like it currently 🤡

Please ask to be tagged! I’d appreciate reblogs, comments and asks as well 🥺

Tag list:

@insomniac-nerd-posts-things @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @sophia-of-sass-gard

[ellewords]

“you know i’m in love with you, right?” hinata mutters into your shoulder, arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace.

he had to leave. a team had invited him to play in japan. an opportunity of a lifetime had presented itself to him, and he would be an idiot to pass it up. but that also meant leaving brazil. leaving you.

the pair of you had met pretty soon after hinata had arrived two years before, and there had been a spark from the second you laid eyes on each other. you had never been happier than you were during the time you got to spend with him, and as far as you could tell, hinata shared that sentiment. but you knew from the very beginning that your time was limited. that was why you had never made anything official; it would hurt too much when time ran out. you had too much of your life rooted in brazil to validate leaving, and hinata was rooted in japan. it would be unfair to expect that to change just because of how you felt for each other.

yet here you guys were, hinata holding you like you were his lifeline, face pressed tightly into the curve of your neck, confessing like he’d wanted to from the very start as you sniffled. it was cruel, getting a taste of what could have been just as he was about to board a plane out of your life, but you couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped your lips.

“i love you, too, sho. always have.”

he pulls back, and his smile is wide and wobbly, and his eyes hold so much love and so many tears, and it hurts. neither of you look away.

you don’t know who leans in first, but before you know it, your noses are nearly touching. he looks just about ready to plunge in and seal the deal when the intercom interrupts with the announcement to begin boarding his flight. he winces, pulling away slowly to look at the throng of people beginning to line up. he needs to go soon, but he can’t make himself move. he doesn’t want to move.

he squeezes your hand and looks like he’s debating whether he should pick up his luggage and begin his departure or stay by your side for forever. instead, you make the decision for him, tugging him towards you gently and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s quick and light, but it starts a fire in your chest. you almost regret it, feeling the longing begin to start up again, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when you see the way hinata blinks rapidly and a smile finally makes its way to his cheeks. then he pulls you tightly into his chest and spins you around, once, twice, a third time as he peppers kisses across your face. when your feet finally hit solid ground again, he’s buzzing with the energy he always seemed to have as he gathers his things and leads you as far as airport security will allow.

“i’m gonna make you so proud, (y/n)! i promise! and then when we see each other again, i’m gonna take you out on a proper date and ask you to be my girlfriend and—“

“i know, sho,” you interject, heart feeling just a little lighter as you watch him get further and further out of view. “i’m already so proud.”

his smile gets impossibly bigger then, and he turns on his heel to walk the rest of the way up the walkway. he stops right before he can disappear, and he looks serious again.

“i love you.”

“i know.”

“i’ll come back to you.”

your heart skips a beat, but before you can respond, another passenger pushes him forward. he’s out of sight instantly, and it finally feels safe to cry. but your smile is still in place.

“i know, sho. i know.”

-💛

— from elle! 💛anon you make my heart hurt and for what?? oh my gosh this is amazing! like legitimately so perfectly bittersweet !! gosh, i love this so so much and the fact that it's timeskip!hinata just makes it all the more *chef's kiss* anyways, i'm picking up where you left off for my little scenario (under the cut, as usual; feat f!reader to go along with what 💛anon sent in). hopefully, i'm able to do justice what you've sent in. thank you so much for this, i hope you're having a wonderful day <3 also i'm not too sure if this is for the first date margins q but i'm considering it as that just in case

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

it’s one of those rare moments wherein he had gotten more than just a couple of days off; in fact, he actually had a couple of weeks. the off season for volleyball had begun — no matches, no tournaments, and for a short while, no practices. just giving the team some rest after months of non-stop playing and training.

the second he had gotten the email that confirmed his time-off, hinata’s fingers found themselves booking a ticket on the nearest flight to brazil, the flight that would bring him back to you. he promised that he would take you out on a date, he couldn’t just show up without a plan. not when all he thought about for most of his waking moments was running home to you.

so he packs his nicest suit, folding it as carefully as he could as to not get it crinkled, and spends all of the 26 hour flight daydreaming of the moment you two would finally meet again in person. would you run up to him? wrap your arms around him? he hopes you would. 

you had kept in touch of course, hinata couldn’t allow himself the displeasure of not talking to you at least once a day. but late night video chats, early morning phone calls, and text messages throughout the day could only do so much. he wanted to feel your skin against his, to hear your voice untainted by the thousands of miles of distance, to run his fingertips along the apples of your cheeks and cup your face in the palm of his hand.

and hours from now, he would finally be able to.

__

hinata stands in the reception area of your office building, flowers in hand, nervous smile on his face. after a nap and a shower, he raced out of his hotel room in his suit, making a reservation to one of your favorite restaurants.

his foot taps on the marbled floor, glancing at his wristwatch every few seconds. he had placed himself by the elevator doors, making himself the first thing you’d see the second you stepped out of it. hinata’s growing more and more impatient as the seconds ticked by, rocking back and forth on his feet. the clock strikes six, any second now.

__

hinata wishes he could capture the bewildered look on your face, the way you stopped in your tracks the second you made eye contact with him. he gives you a sheepish smile, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck before gesturing into a wave. a quiet little “hi” leaving his lips.

you approach him cautiously at first, tentatively, like you were unsure if he was actually there in front of you. he had told you that he had gotten a couple of weeks off, but he never mentioned using them to fly back to brazil. you’re stunned, breath caught in your throat as your eyes move along the entirety of his figure. there’s no way he was here, this is all just a figment of your imagination; the section of your mind that missed him had finally lost control. you want to keep your steps slow for fear of disappointment.

but your heart and your feet betray you, picking up the pace just as you were a couple of feet in front of him. you practically throw your body against his, wrapping your arms around his neck, hoping he’d be strong enough as to not make the two of you fall on the cold floor of your office building.

hinata takes a few steps back from the force of your body impacting his, but he places an arm around your waist, steadying both himself and you. he hears it, the beating of his heart, loud and clear as he takes in the familiar scent of your perfume.

you pull away, placing your hands on his face just to make sure he was really in front of you. gazing directly into his eyes, you breathe out, “you’re here.”

“i'm here.” hinata confirms, pressing a kiss to your temple; just to let you know he's real.

__

hinata gazes at you from across the table, reaching out for your hand so he could hold it in his; he needed this, the warmth of your touch, a gentle reminder that he was once again in your presence.

and you were not one to deny him such a simple thing, mostly because you need that reminder as well.

this isn’t the first time you had eaten at this particular restaurant. during his two year stint in brazil, the place had become a source of comfort for the two of you. it’s where you celebrated birthdays, big promotions, or just had dinner when neither of you felt like cooking.

hinata still knows your order by heart, surprising you. in all honesty, you thought he would forget all about you the second he step foot in japan. there’s a small pull at your heartstrings, a flurry in the pit of your stomach, a fluttering in your chest.

most first dates are spent trying to get to know the other person, but hinata already knew you like the back of his hand. and the same could be said of you with him. you knew in the light in his eyes as he talked about his new teammates how much he adored playing with them. and he knew in the smile on your face as you rambled on about the book you had just finished reading that it would become one of your favorites. 

you can’t help but stare, how could someone change in just a short amount of time? he had grown more confident, looked the happiest he’s ever been. and it certainly helped that he was wearing a suit — you had mostly seen him in sweatpants and pyjamas, so this was an entirely different look to you.

“you know, i wish you had told me you were coming,” you frown, looking down at your work clothes, knowing that somewhere deep in your closet is a dress that would have been perfect for a night like this, “i would have dressed for the occasion.”

“but you’re already perfect.” hinata says it without missing a beat, with such complete and utter sincerity that your heartbeat pick up just as he said it.

__

like a true gentleman, he walks you back to your apartment. a place that isn’t exactly foreign to him, his feet leading him on muscle memory alone. 

the walk back is filled with his and your laughters, arms looped around the other’s as you made your steps as slow as possible; trying your hardest to extend the time you had. 

when you finally reach the front door, hinata stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, suddenly unsure of himself. was this too much for you? was he coming on too strong?

you chuckle, seeing the complete panic in his features, stepping closer to him. you hold his face in your hands, voice barely above a whisper, “i still can’t believe you’re actually here.”

hinata’s breath evens out at your touch, heart finally calming down, blush on his cheeks. and just like that day at the airport, it’s unclear who leans first, but did that matter at this point? everything hangs in the air, months of unsaid words between the two of you, breath hitching as your noses touch.

“i told you i'd come back.” he mumbles against your lips before letting them meet his in a kiss. 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like on a first date?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[p0gue420]

!Too Young To Feel Numb! (Kie x Reader)

ATTENTION!! There are a lot of trigger warnings in this one! Including: drinking, drugs, talks of feeling alone, depression.

Summary: Y/n started smoking weed at the age of 8, It’s all she’d known; She grew up around it so it was normal for her to start super young, she told herself that’s the farthest she’d go...only smoking weed..never any hard drugs. She thought she could learn from her parent's mistakes, guess not. 

pairing: Kie x female!reader, Rafe x Platonic! reader, JJ x Sister figure! reader

Warnings: Substance abuse, depression, suicidal thoughts, marijuana Underage drinking,(reader is 15),

A/N: Alot of grammar errors because i dont feel like checking it so sorry....not really,hehe

---------

I use to think people were crazy for even thinking about doing anything harder than weed. Yeah...I was like 7 so it doesn’t count.”Yo you gonna babysit that shit or pass it, I mean...I have all day but  would love to do something besides wait for you to pass the blunt.” I rolled my eyes waiting for JJ to hand it to me.”Chill, what’s up your ass today?”

He finally passes it, after what felt like hours. I take a long hit before seeing he’s actually wanting me to answer his question.”Nothin. man, I’ve just got places to be.” I mumbled out hoping he wouldn’t start asking any further questions. He stares blankly awaiting me to pass it back, knowing I don’t share my feelings so he simply lays off. “Hey. You trynna go surfing today….whenever you’re done with your….things..?”

“Uhh, yeah text me and-” I’m cut off by the sound of my phone vibrating...Barry.

Barry:

Meet in twenty? I got extra today

I look up from my phone stuttering my words, and fumbling.“Uhm, I gotta go do something, but I’ll text you later to surf, yeah?” I say nodding towards JJ as I began walking out.”Uhm yea sure, hey-” I was already out the door.”-be safe.” he muttered to himself left wondering why I left so fast. On the way to my bike, I ran into Kie and Pope laughing about something before Kie began to make her way over towards me.

“Hey, Y/n! Heading out so fast, are we?”Kie pouted her lip out mimicking a whimpering sound.” heh, yeah sorry bub. I gotta go handle some things and I’ll be back later.” I peck her lips in a swift movement as well as pull up the front of her crop top, covering her exposed cleavage.”Those are my love,keep them covered” I wink at her. She laughs and heads inside after blowing me a kiss,that I catch and pretend to place in my heart..Wow im so whipped.

My thoughts cut off by a loud vibrating noise.

Barry:

You coming?

Read: 46 sec.ago

Me:

Omw now!

Read: just now

I hop on my bike heading over to Barry’s place knowing a shortcut I found a few days ago.

It only takes 10 minutes before i’m in front of his house walking up the steps of the porch.My clean oxygen is immediately replaced by the smell of cigarettes,weed,and...Is that burnt hair?I scrunch my face in disgust at the awful smells.”Aye look who it is!” Barry calls out after seeing my face, He’s standing beside..Rafe cameron.

Now...I’m not friends with Rafe but i also don’t exactly despise him.I babysat wheezie all summer last year,most the time he’d join..keep me company;I don’t think he knew i was with Kie but he’s not all bad.He’s helped me more times than I can count,only because i've done the same for him though.

“Yo waddup.I didn’t expect to see you here.” I share a short handshake with Barry and side hug Rafe,he seems unprepared for it so he stumbles a bit but eventually hugs back quickly.”uh yeah.just doing some..business” Rafe says avoiding eye contact,looking everywhere except my face.”anyway i'm gonna head out, i'll catch you guys later.” Rafe walks towards,im guessing his bike;I head inside following barry so i didn’t really catch what he drove in.

“So like I said I've got your usual ,and then I got a little extra something I thought you may like.”He continues on but I'm so wrapped up in the fact that I want to consume something soon,anything;I don’t know exactly what he's saying.”Sound good?” He asked “Uh what?sorry I zoned out a bit.”I shook my head pushing my long hair out of my eyes.”Look,Usually altogether this would be alot of money but considering I stole the pills,I'll spare you the oxy,wadda yuh say?”, “Yeah sure,80$?”

He nods his head holding his hand out as i hand him the money.He hands you a bag full of coke in a plastic baggy, along with the pills in its original container it was prescribed. “Ight,thanks man.Ill see you later next week!” I wave goodbye as I show myself out, shoving the ‘things’ I had bought into my bag and swinging it back on my back.

~Incoming call from:Bubbs<3

I instantly pick up not wanting to worry her.

I instantly hear the boys laughing and playing in the background,but wait for her to say something.”Hey baby, you heading back yet?” Kie questioned sounding bored of the childish boys we spend our time with.”Not yet,i promise im almost done,ask the boys if there's drinks at the chateau please.”She turns her head away from the boys asking what there is to drink besides sink water.

I hear a chorus of “We just stocked up”,”All good momma bird.” and other sayings coming from the overly hyper boys.”Did you hear that,or need me to repeat?” She hesitantly says, making sure I’m still listening ”Gotcha,I'm headed your way now,see you there” I say quickly hanging up without giving her time to respond.

I hop on my bike and drive towards…...the opposite of the chateau,instead deciding to go to the Camerons.I drive,stuck in thought of what ill do when i get there,not quite sure why i decided to come.I had been so lost in thought I didn’t realise I was suddenly at the Cameron residence. I park my bike and began walking up to the door,but before I can knock,Rafe walks up behind me.

“Y/n?” I swiftly turn around being scared for a minute before realizing who it was.”Oh!uhm. yeah...hey” I ‘smoothly’ say”what are you doing here?” he asks..The whole conversation was a blur and before I knew it I was walking up to his room to hang out.I sit on the bed laying back asking about what he wants to do.”I don't know,you came here,what'd you have in mind?” He asked curiously.”I'm not sure.” I snorted at my inability to maintain a conversation.

I dig into my bag as he starts up about how he broke his bed frame the other day, because he put too many boxes on the bed while getting rid of some old things. I finally found what I was looking for,the baggy of white powder.I lifted it up smiling widely.”Can I do this here or no?”I question,feeling my body begin to sweat at the thought of getting to snort the white powder.

“Uh,I mean.. yea sure,didn't know you did that kind of thing.. but I mean go ahead.” He rambles. He stares into space as I do a few lines, my eyes opening wide at the sensation of sudden adrenaline;I look over to see him trying not to stare.”Oh my bad,You want some?” I ask holding up the dollar folded into a cylinder shape , gesturing to the lines of coke spread on the dresser.

---

Hours go by,giggling,cracking jokes with rafe as well as doing oxy and maybe overdoing it with the coke seeing as the bag was almost gone.Rafe hasn't done much.I on the other hand was feeling VERY shaky and everything was just so hilarious..until it wasnt.My high started to get bad and overall scary.I must've did too much in such a limited amount of time.I look at my phone .

17 missed calls from Bubbs<3

8 missed calls from John B:)

9 missed calls from Popey boi

11 missed calls from JJ

Incoming call from Bubbs<3

“He-h-hello ,hi,hey.”

“DON'T ‘HI’ ME!” Kie instantly began screaming into the phone making me move my face away from it as Rafe looked at me with a worried expression on his face.

“Y/n,Where have you been! I’ve been so worried! I’ve-” I Blanked out again not in the mood to be yelled at.”Yeah,hey I nee-need,will-can youcomeandpickme up” I say jumbling all my words together. “Are you okay?Why are you talking like that?''She ask worried about my state of mind.

“Yeah am- I fine,Yes” I say yet again struggling to sound normal. I guess I was on speaker because JJ immediately began yelling into the phone asking about where I was.”Rafes house” Rafe sat silently waiting for them to break out into hysterics about me being with him.The phone went silent for a moment before the call ended.”So does that mean they not-....Vodka” was all i said before heading downstairs Rafe was sober enough to be able to notice what i was doing.I quickly went downstair searching through the freezer.

“Yessss.”I exclaimed before chugging the vodka.”Rafe continuously asking me to give him the bottle.I chugg at least half the pint bottle before having to give it up because Sarah comes down the stairs.”Y/n what're you doing here?” She asks excitedly until she saw me tripping over my own feet walking towards her,”Woah!” she caught me just before I hit the floor.

She turned to the door hearing someone pull up.Kie.”Rafe what did you do to her?” Sarah asked, holding me up scared of how out of it I was.”SHE BROUGHT COKE HERE,i did a bit with her, but she did A LOT. I legit did nothing this time I swear on everything!”He trailed back up the stairs not caring about the situation now that Sarah was there to take care of you. 

I began to sweat, tears running down my face. scared of what's happening to me.John b and Kie rush through the front doors asking where I am.”IN HERE GUYS!” Sarah screamed for them to hear her.My eyes rolling to the back of my head as I went in and out of consciousness.

“BABYYYY!!!” i exclaimed making grabby hands at Kie as i started crying harder

Sarah helped me stand up shakingly as I tried to walk to my girlfriend,She came running towards me with a concerned look on her face. She grabs my face pecking my lips,”Bub. I need you to listen to me, okay?” I nodd in awe of the gorgeous girl in front of me.”John B is gonna take you to the van,we need you to tell us everything you took to get in this state, okay?” I drowsily  nodded,growing tired.

Just as she said,the tall boy picked me up bridal style carrying me out to the twinkie.

I take notice to seating arrangement so i can close my eyes and know whos talking ,JJ being in the passenger seat,Pope watching From the bench behind the driver's seat.Kie stepped up into the van sitting on the floor of the vehicle waiting for John B to place me down beside her.As he did I sat up enough to lean my back against her chest.

JJ was surprisingly silent.Too silent.Pope looked so worried at my sweating body and dripping wet hair from  sweat,tears,and vodka mixture.”Okay,Y/n,What did you take?” my girlfriend sits grabbing my face turning me to face her, my legs straddling her thighs on the floor as I nuzzle my head into the crook of her neck,but she pushes my head up making me pout but not being able to maintain due to the dizziness. “I took a few oxy,uhm when I -then i did a few lines of coke,and…..i chugged half a pint of vodka..” i said tears filling my eyes trying to not look into anyone's eyes,

Silent JJ was no more .”Are you fucking kidding me.Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n.You’re not supposed to take oxy and drink alcohol together.much less do oxy or coke at all.ARE YOU DUMB!” JJ began turning around. A Quiet ‘im sorry’ came from my mouth.John B finally pulled into the chateau.

Kie carried me while my face stayed nuzzled in her neck still crying due to my,still,VERY high state.she sat me down on the couch out on the porch as everyone except her,went to get a few things.Pope came back with water and a wet rag to place on my head.JJ brought a blanket,John B came back empty handed because he only went inside to pee.

“Kie?” I whispered scared she was mad.”Yes baby?” 

“Are you mad at me?” I questioned hiding my face in her shoulder due to the amount of dizziness being insured. She leaned her head on mine with an unknown amount of emotions,not quite sure of how to fully answer. “No I- I just don’t know what you were thinking I just- Well I figured you wouldn’t ever do anything like this considering what we talked about-and -and what you went through with your parents..” 

“I know-I wanted to feel better tho..I just feel like i have no one-”

Shortly realising the guys were still in on the conversation as Pope cut in.

“Y/n, you have,and always will have us..” I lift my head from the girls shoulder  before slowly looking at Pope in his sad worried eyes.

“I guess, I like-I dont know guys what you want me to say..Im trying to be better for myself for everybody,but nothing was working and i ran into barry one day and we talked and he offered a way to help,of course i was hesitant but its really not that bad...Im actually fine!” I said standing up as John b followed me.

“y/n, you were just saying you need help,so what the fuck are we supposed to do ,one minute you need help and having to be ushered here so you dont die! And-and-the next thing you’re yelling at us about how your fine,you’re not fine and you know it!” I stopped as I watched the long haired boy fight back tears trying to explain how all of them feel.

“Fuck you guys honestly,Im not a child i know how i feel,this is all just bullshit!” I yelled at them all, I ran to the spare bedroom covered in sweat,tears,and vodka; I slowly sink into the bed as tears fall down my face crying myself to sleep,what i didn’t know was that my bestfriend’s and girlfriend were all huddled up outside the door awaiting me to fall asleep so that they could come in and cuddle me to make me feel better.Sometimes things get better, but i dont think this is one of those times atleast for now anyway..

[ddarker-dreams]

ladybug. yandere!giorno x reader

tw: emotional manipulation, humiliation

giorno is patient with you, but everything has limits. 

click here to check out my commissions! 

Sunlight has always felt nice on your skin.

Even when it’s obscured by glass windows, it brings a sense of comfort that’s unmatched by anything else. Compliment it by drinking any assortment of hot drinks, such as cappuccinos or espressos, and it makes your world feel whole. For hours at a time you could bask in it, eyes fluttering shut and soaking in blissful warmth. 

The breakfast room you sit in most mornings is surrounded by circle topped windows, deliberately placed on the east wing of Giorno’s villa to capture the morning sun. In the middle of the room sits a petite glass table, large enough to be accompanied by four birch wood seats. 

Every morning you come here, an assortment of pastries and berries are laid out to your liking. A rotating set of china accompanies them, differing in color depending on the seasons. As it’s currently winter, a pearly white set with sapphire designs are in use. With spring budding around the season, you’ll soon be met with your favorite set; one with sakura designs from Japan. 

All of these small details are pressed into your mind. Having sat in this room for breakfast too many times to count, you’ve come to know everything about it. From the seasonal fine china, to which chair allows the sun to kiss your skin the longest, to how the windows are kept under lock and key. 

You’ve tried that method already. 

Funny thing, that is. How an oceanic view gives the illusion of freedom, when looked at through monumental windows. By how the butler’s breath hitches when you run your fingers over the glass longingly, you can only imagine the strict regulations Giorno holds them to. It’s not like it’ll crumble underneath your delicate touch, even if you silently wish it would. 

The sight of waves crashing causes a sigh to leave your lips, knowing that you’ll have to be content to watch it from here for the time being. In your myriad of thoughts, you fail to notice a small ladybug settling itself onto your outstretched hand. Looking at it with a frown, you watch as it crawls from the back of your hand to your fingertips. 

It’s why you don’t flinch when soft footsteps approach you from behind, already knowing the omen the ladybug brought with it. Retracting your hand away from the window, you feel no desire to look back when you already know who’s there.

“I take it you like the view?” Even early in the morning, Giorno’s voice is composed and smooth. It demands to be listened to and respected, even if you have to admit that begrudgingly. He cherry picks his words with intention, a facade of domesticity mixed within them. 

“Why do you use,” you pause for a moment, ignoring Giorno’s rhetorical question to find the best term for his ability. “This… method, when I always come here in the morning. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.” 

At this, you finally decide to turn around and face him. Giorno stands in front of you with a relaxed disposition, having already waved off any staff that were nearby. It makes you grit your teeth, knowing the reason why. He’s here to keep an eye on you now, so there’s no need for them to. 

Not responding to the clear hostility in your voice, Giorno takes a seat close to where you’re standing. Each movement carries with it a sense of grace and control, not unusual to him. The sun just began to rise, and his normal purple suit is worn without a single wrinkle in sight. His golden hair set in place perfectly, deep eyes never weary from lack of sleep; even after long nights. 

Giorno reaches out for a chocolate filled pastry, taking a bite before offering a response. “You woke up earlier than usual.” 

The way he says it without returning your clear irritation only serves to disturb you more. No matter how much you try and upset him, Giorno never gives in. Each movement and word is calculated before your eyes, giving the illusion of a perfect, divine man. 

Frowning, your eyes flicker between the ladybug on your hand, and then back to Giorno. He continues to eat in silence, most likely not wanting to provoke you more than his presence already does. Continuing your quiet seething, you purse your lips. 

“I didn’t take you for my caretaker.” you bite back, eyes narrowing as he doesn’t so much as flinch at your venomous words. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he lightly dusts away any crumbs the pastry left on his lips. 

“I never said I was,” Giorno flashes you a sweet smile, one that promises more. “But I am your husband. The two are almost interchangeable in some regards, aren’t they?” 

The swift reminder only serves to further sour your mood. Typically he’s not the type to rub things in your face, but you know the reason why he mentioned his relation to you this time. Looking down at your bare ring finger, you find the red ladybug finished its previous scurrying. It now stays circling your lower ring finger, as if it had found its original goal. 

Before your very eyes it transforms into a familiar gold band, with a round brilliant diamond in the middle. Various other smaller diamonds line the areas next to it, always making you wonder the original price of such a ring. 

“So you noticed,” you respond dryly, eyeing the ring with faint disdain. “Why am I not surprised...” 

There isn’t much you can do to practically spite Giorno, but little things make you feel better. Even if it’s something small, like taking off your wedding ring, it brings a temporary solace. But every time you hide it somewhere, it always manages to return to you due to Giorno’s Stand. 

Placing the handkerchief back into his pocket, Giorno’s eyes flicker to the food you’ve left untouched on the table. He frowns for a brief second, before looking back to you.

“Come, sit and eat,” Giorno asks of you, motioning to the empty chair next to him. “You haven’t touched your food.” 

Considering your options, you look at the admittedly delicious assortment on the table. It pains you to give into anything Giorno tells you to do, but testing his patience is a tricky battle.

He’ll allow you to verbally retaliate against him most times, as long as you’re picky with your insults. Mentioning your adamant abhorrence towards him or your past life will earn varying degrees of punishments, ranging from solitude to threats towards your family. All said with a loving smile. 

Begrudgingly, you take your seat next to him and attempt to decide what to eat. This early in the morning your appetite isn’t fully there, and the uneasy feeling Giorno brings you doesn’t help. Upon noticing your hesitation, Giorno reaches for a blueberry scone. 

Delicately, he picks up a knife and spreads a generous amount of butter across the flaky top. The butter slowly begins to melt, Giorno seemingly content with the amount. You’re familiar with this little game, knowing that Giorno takes pleasure in preparing food for you that meets his standards. Once he’s done, you gingerly reach to take it from his hands.

Only to be met with a chastising noise, and teasing smile that makes your skin crawl with indignation. 

“If I can’t trust you to eat,” Giorno begins with a soft hum, causing you to knit your eyebrows. “I’ll take it upon myself to feed you.” 

Cheeks flushing, you take a moment to see if he’s joking with you. But as he holds the scone up a few inches from your lips, you realize he’s being dead serious. If anything, he seems to be amusing himself with your embarrassed expression. 

Would it be possible to smack the scone out of his hand? Something tells you that his reflexes might be better than yours, but a small part of you still wants to try your luck. Giorno subtly nudges the scone forth, prompting you to open your mouth for him. 

Humiliation settles in, as you slowly part your lips. Giorno’s eyes soften at your submission, placing the tip of the scone into your mouth. Taking a tentative bite, you’re met with an abundance of flavor. The bread almost melts in your mouth, hints of butter dancing on your taste buds before the tart blueberry follows suit. 

The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, and before you know it, you’ve finished eating the scone. You expect Giorno to pull his hand back, but he keeps it in front of your lips. Tilting your head at the inaction on his part, Giorno takes it as an opportunity to explain.

“I don’t wish to speak too highly of myself, however,” Giorno starts, his thumb reaching to rub circles on your soft lips. “I’ve been considerate of you, signora. Don’t I always meet your needs? Everything I do, I do it for you, my beloved.” 

He ceases his movements momentarily, making sure to hold eye contact with you. You hadn’t noticed it before, but Giorno had moved forward and is now closer to you. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, dizziness starting to settle in by his newfound closeness. 

The way his eyes are glazing over with an emotion unidentifiable makes you uncomfortable. But he continues his little speech, continuing to toy with your lips at his leisure. 

“And still you remain so adversarial towards me. It hurts me, it truly does. Even so, I’ve never been the type to quit when I have a hard goal in mind. I’ll have you love me, even if I have to pry it out from you.” 

“What are you--” 

Giorno takes the opportunity to place his middle and index finger into your mouth, making you let out a squeak in shock. He remains level with you, unblinking as a familiar cruelness is found in his tone.

“Would you be a dear and clean my fingers for me? I fear I got them dirty.” 

It takes every ounce of self control you have. Holding back every primal instinct to inflict pain on him by biting down, giving him a taste of your own suffering. But even with the immense temptation, you’re unable to bring yourself to do it. The consequences of such an action would undoubtedly outweigh any momentary satisfaction. 

Fluttering your eyelids shut to avoid his penetrating gaze, you lazily roll your tongue around his fingers. Tilting your head away from his general direction, you’re once again met with a dissatisfied response. 

“Look at me.” 

His tone leaves little room for argument. Opening your eyes once more, you shiver at the sheer intensity on Giorno’s face. It reminds you of how he looks when speaking to his Capos, how he adopts a persona unlike his normal polite self. Rarely does he ever inflict it on you, wanting to always charm you. 

At what feels like a humiliating eternity, Giorno removes his digits from your mouth. You bite your lip harshly to stop yourself from saying anything else you’ll regret, watching in feigned disinterest as he examines his cleaned fingers. 

Giorno drinks in your appearance, his eyes scanning over the different angles of your face. He always compliments your eyes the most, as unwanted as his advances are. You can’t deny that his own turquoise hues are uniquely beautiful, but never intend on letting him know that. From your staring you get the feeling he already knows.

“Obedience is becoming of you, cara.” 

The double edged compliment does little for you, only adding flames to the fire within. A sigh leaves Giorno’s lips at your lack of reaction, reaching out to gingerly sip on a mocha cappuccino. For the Don of a mafia group that controls all of Italy to be so fond of chocolate has always felt ironic to you.

Giorno sees you looking at his cup, and tilts it towards you. Understanding the invitation that signals, you shake your head. Returning to your original goal of looking out the window towards the ocean waves, you’re immensely grateful at the few seconds of silence that he grants you. Any reprieve is to be taken advantage of. 

In between sips, he finally begins to speak once more. “After some deliberation, a five day long vacation would be acceptable. Things have been settling down lately, and I’d still be on call at all times, but…”

He leans in close to you, placing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll be able to spend more time with you. Do try and be good for me, will you?”

It’s phrased like a question, but is a command. He has a way of draining all the fight you have to offer from you, slowly and deliberately. In a complex web that he spins, trapping you even further when you struggle. Sighing while you accept your fate for now, all you can give is an uncomplicated answer. 

“--I’ll try.” 

[lettrespromises]

╰┄───➤   LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification. ❜

╰┄───➤ Letter object : The heart speaks freely on birthdays.

╰─➤ Trafalgar D. Water Law sent you a letter, would you like to read it? ❜

Letter object : ❝Law dreads his birthday, another regular day on the calendar according to him— but this year, you’re here with him, and you teach him that the hearts speaks freely on birthdays.❞ 

Author’s letter :  ❝dear reader,

law lives rent free in my head and he will keep on doing so for the rest of his life, as he should!! happy late birthday to my favorite character in one piece, he deserves all the love in the world. sealed with a kiss,  nikki.❞ 

Genre : Fluff. Warnings : Cursing. Word count : 1.6K

It was a miracle in itself that you had managed to convince Law to grant himself a bit of slumber, but don’t miracles belong to the world of fiction? Judging by how Law had woken up at the glorious hour of six in the morning to finish the work languishing on his desk and answer the hushed demands of his pen calling his name and begging to be used to spill more ink on his documents... Miracles indeed belonged to the world of fiction. He was, in a way, both the literal epitome and oxymoron of a doctor— the amount of healthy hours of slumber in his body was close to none, the amount of anxiety coursing through his veins was brushing the limits of sanity. He wrote the prescriptions as a doctor for his crew, but never did he once bother to take the own medical advice he gave to his subordinates… Ah! Acerbic poetry.

The harsh grip of his fingertips, which had already turnt white, over the edge of the mattress was a physical testimony that he was letting the guilt coloring his deeds a spectrum of all the colors associated to self-denial. Law couldn’t gather the strength to lay his silver orbs upon your frame, after all, he was blinded by culpability.

He knew that, he knew because this thought kept haunting his mind and kept taunting him. Each time his lids shut close, he could picture the outline of your face and the plea in your eyes. Then, when silence settled in his earbuds until it became deafening, Law swore he could hear you say « Please, Law, tomorrow’s your birthday— I know you’ve forgotten about it, but I haven’t. So please take care of yourself, just this one time, for me, please? » And the nuances of care embedded in your every word. And just like that you filled all of his senses, yes, all of them— even the touch.

« Don’t tell me you’re already up at this ungodly hour, Law. » your words crashed against the skin of his back in a whisper.

He was tormented, hesitating whether or not he should respond.

« I know, I know you don’t care much about your birthday. But just take this day to yourself, make it an exception. » your arms snaked around Law’s waist to metaphorically use his back as a human pillow, slumber enveloping your movements. « C’mon, doctor, you should know about slumber and everything. » you said, a yawn breaking suddenly the rhythm of your sentence.

It seemed like each one of your lingering touches couldn’t make things more soothing to him, and thus he gave in to the sweet temptations and promises orchestrated by the pacifying sound of your voice. « It looks like you have won this time, Y/N-ya. » this time only, his gaze landed on your half-asleep form and he secretly cursed himself for not having given in to his temptations earlier on.

He untied the grasp you held around his waist with the delicateness worthy of the touch of an angel, Law turnt around, every so slowly not to disrupt your journey to Morpheus’ arms and cradled your cranium filled with tonight’s dreams and set it on your pillow. Of course, your pillow was only a temporary placement, you slept much better on his chest anyway, when the rhythm of his heartbeat would synchronize with yours. Ever so naturally, and eagerness influencing his movements, Law shifted in your shared bed to lay by your side. Once he was settled under the warmth emanating off of your blanket, he allowed himself to grant your silent wish and place your head above his chest whilst the tips of his genetically given thin digits brushed the strands of hair caressing your forehead. He was bound to join Morpheus’ arms soon too, but not without voicing a confession first :

« You always seem to find a way to win, don’t you, doll? I might have to be stricter on you, I can’t have that stain my reputation as the captain. » Law hushed a snicker threatening to pierce the defense of his mouth and bowed his lips into a grin instead, « but who am I to refuse your love when it’s all I crave? Tell me, Y/N-ya, because I can’t seem to find the answer. » he kissed these words into your skin, just a way to imprint these words with the crimson color of his sentimental ink.

Law shut his lids close, and took the same path as yours to join you within the hold of Morpheus, your perfume accompanied him on his journey which never made him feel alone.

And what a surprise it was when he saw that your body was missing from your shared bed once he had woken up, or rather, once his body had absorbed a tolerable amount of slumber. The absence of your lingering smell in the air, the lack of the familiar warmth emanating from your body (and although Law despised how warm you could get at nights, he did miss this), where were you? His facial features bent under the panic, his orbs scanned the room for a hint of your presence somewhere on the submarine, somewhere, anywhere.

The crave to find you fueled his deeds and the urgency to find you was surely more important than putting a shirt on, he couldn’t, he had to— Law blamed this on having overslept, surely, if he had woken up earlier (and before you), these stirring thoughts would have never crossed his mind, not even once, and even hearing you drown his ear with complains would have been a much sweeter feeling than the burning sensation of his heartbeats adopting the pattern of a crescendo.

And thus the quest began— Law looked in his office but failed to see your frame, the bathroom, perhaps? Another defeat. Somehow, the mechanic room? Wrong guess.—

« Ahh, fuck! How was I supposed to know this was still going to be burning hot? It burns like hell! »  Now, now, how Law was not supposed to hear your plea of pain? Thoughts took control over his body and he wasted no time going to the source of the sounds, and, of course, you were in the kitchen. It seemed like such an evident answer, and he cursed himself yet again for not having thought of this earlier.

And there you were, in all your glory, blowing air on your reddened thumb, already guessing that you were bound to consider this burn as a medal. He couldn’t help but allow his lips to bow into a grin which shone by its genuineness : « I think I heard someone in distress, what a shame, where’s the doctor? » Law trailed off as he was reducing the space between the two of you, and soon enough— your martyr of a finger was held like the finest of china between the expertise of Law’s digits, a martyr which was soon soothed by a kiss planted by the man himself, « Oh, correct. I believe I’m the doctor here. So… Are you feeling any better? » He wondered, the smirk on his face emphasized the loving mockery lacing his words.

« Did I really deserve to burn my finger after having baked this birthday cake for you? Talk about unthankful karma! Maybe I shouldn’t have baked you this cake in the first place. » You suggested, adopting the same faux mockery tone Law had previously been using.

« You stand correct, Y/N-ya, you should have stayed in bed with me. » He begun, planting a peck on your forehead, an old habit which never faded away, « but did I really deserve someone like you in my life? I believe my karma is pretty wonderful, if I dare to say. » he mocked, but genuine adoration underlined his words, a tone only you could catch. « Will you join me in bed? It gives us an excuse to let the cake cool down for a bit, don’t you think? »

« Mhm, sounds like a plan to me, I just have one thing left to do before that. » You said, already grinning at the shenanigans taking form in your head, begging to become reality.

« What’s th- Hmph! » And there, in this very instant, your thoughts had become reality. Your lips crashed on his as your forelimbs circled his neck to invite him to deepen the kiss. And, once more, who was Law to refuse such thing coming from you? His own tattooed arms found shelter on your hips until vacuity throned between your two bodies, and thus began the marriage of your lips pushing one against the other in an union of sentiments which exploded in a myriad of smaller pecks delivered all over the flesh of his face.

« Happy birthday, Law! I love you so, so very much even if you’re grumpy all the time and never smile, you’re still handsome! » You said, a peck interrupted each part of your sentence.

And just like that, the melody of Law’s half-hushed laughter connected with your eardrums, just enough for you to hear, as per usual. Law allowed his forearms to settle on your shoulders whilst his cranium was placed upon yours, giving him a perfect platform to secretly voice his silenced thoughts : « I love you too, Y/N-ya, more than you will ever know. » It was a voiced confession, it was secret, just enough for you to hear, as always.

[okaywitheverything]

Cooking Diaries with Kiba: Kiba x Reader

A/N: i know its been long but I am waiting for requests tbh. So don't shy away babies. Also we hit 250+ on check ups and 50+ on world's worst best men so yayyyy! Thanks for coming to my ted talk lol and go enjoy!

Based on this tumblr prompt:

Today had been a long day, and you were to curl into bed and go to sleep at this moment right now. It had been one of those tiring days where you would skip dinner for a moment of shut eye.

With Kakashi as the new Hokage, much work had to be done to get the necessities in order. You and Shikamaru almost spent 14 hours a day at the office to help Kakashi. But you knew that within a week or two things would normalize and set into order.

When you got home it was 10 PM, and even though you had only had a salad for breakfast with 12 granola bars distributed at odd intervals during your day, you were in no mood to eat. Honestly, that sounded like too much effort right now.

But then why did your feet take you to the kitchen? It was probably the copper smell in the air that got you worried. It could also be Akamaru barking with disapproving tones. Yes, you might have learned a thing or two about Akamaru in the past year.

With barely awake eyes and a really dazed mind, you entered the kitchen to find your boyfriend’s back to you, him facing the stove and your adorable little puppy barking continuously beside him. However, as soon as you entered Akamaru turned towards you, now wagging his tail and striding towards you. You smiled down at him, not actually having the energy today to pick him up and play with him like you usually did, hoping he’d understand. He was a smart pup after all.

With barely awake eyes and a really dazed mind, you entered the kitchen to find your boyfriend’s back to you, him facing the stove and your adorable little puppy barking continuously beside him. However, as soon as you entered Akamaru turned towards you, now wagging his tail and striding towards you. You smiled down at him, not actually having the energy today to pick him up and play with him like you usually did, hoping he’d understand. He was a smart pup after all.

You would have greeted Kiba like you usually did but before you could utter a single syllable, Akamaru jumped at you. You let out a short squeal which most definitely caught Kiba’s attention as he turned around looking surprised.

Akamaru however didn’t mean to play as you expected but instead his teeth nibbled on the wrist of your long sleeved top, and then he slightly dragged you to your loving boyfriend.

The thought that Akamaru was playing matchmaker to your already established relationship crossed your mind but that train of thought immediately went out the window when you saw Kiba’s palm sliced in half, the wound almost a centimetre deep.

Your lidded eyes opened and widened as you grabbed his hand and carefully looked at the gash, the amount of blood surprising you. He had, of course, survived worse injuries than this but why in the world was he bleeding so badly, when he was in Konoha instead of the battlefield, having spent the entire day at home with only laundry on his chore list. Also, you were protective of him because it didn’t hurt to care about your boyfriend a little.

“What the fuck, Kiba?’ you exclaimed and grabbed his hand, being as gentle as your anger allowed you to be, taking him the bathroom and nudging him to sit on the marble counter top. You grabbed the first aid kit from the shelves and started working on his hand. Halfway through, when all that was left was to bandage his hand, you had finally gathered your thoughts, pushing your sleep aside, which was easy considering Kiba gave you a rush of adrenaline as soon as you entered home, and looked at him worriedly.

“what happened Kiba? You know how worried I was?” Your disappointed mom look tugged at his heartstrings as smiled sheepishly with his uninjured hand rubbing the back of his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I was just hoping to cook something nice for you, you’ve been working yourself to the limit lately and don’t think I haven’t noticed you skipping meals.” His apologizing tone turned accusatory midway and you gulped.

“You could have ordered takeout baby. I really appreciate the gesture, I really do but don’t you know that the cooking stunts are to be performed in supervision only?” You slightly joked and giggled as he broke out into a toothy grin as well.

You finished bandaging his hand focused on knotting it/taping it at the end as his palm rested in two hands as you inspected it for the last time. Hopefully he didn’t need stitches so that was good.

Out of nowhere his other hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him, your face crashing in his toned chest as you let out a yelp. When you pulled yourself back and looked up at him, his eyes were already focused on you, gazing at you so lovingly that you felt you were in paradise. You just wanted to grab his face and kiss him all over his face, starting at his nose and ending at his-

As if reading your thoughts, his injured hand’s index finger and thumb held your chin so delicately, with a feather like grasp and his pillowy lips crashed onto yours. You devoured each other, his eagerness showing how much he missed you, how aware he became of your absences these days and him not liking it one bit.

Needless to say, you were quite awake now.

You both ran out of breath and pulled away but your gazing constant didn’t end until a few minutes.

When Akamaru’s bark broke you both out of your trance, you intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled him upstairs with you towards the bedroom.

“Shouldn’t you eat something first? I will order some-”

“I’m hungry, but a lot more tired. Cuddle with me?”

“I’m offended you would even ask that.”

You both snuggled under the heavy duvet, with him spooning you from behind, Akamaru coming to lay at your feet.

“What were you cooking anyways? The gash was pretty deep.” You asked with closed eyes.

“I was planning on making pudding, it’s a good snack and a light one-”

“Babe, I’m pretty sure there is absolutely no step that requires a knife though.”

“I think you missed the step of breaking an egg using the ever helpful knife-”

“What the fuck do you mean you were trying to cut open the eggshell?! What even- You know, I can’t- Again what the actual fuck, Kiba?” you stumbled over your words, as you jerked out of his embrace and now faced him, with the most confused expression ever and your eyes as horrified as they can be. Your eyebrows scrunched in disbelief with your mouth so wide open that Kiba would have laughed at your adorableness was he not astonished at the piece of information he received.

“Are you sure (Y/N) bec-”

“Yes, I’m pretty fucking sure Kiba.”

“Well the recipe said to break three eggs and thought a knife would work but the egg rolled away while my hand came in between so….”

“So you chopped your hand off while doing the stupidest thing ever? I think it is the easiest step in any recipe, right after boiling water.”

Kiba lightly chuckled at that and replied, “Well, I’m your idiot anyways honey.”

“That you are. Please be cautious baby. How am I supposed to not worry when you are away on missions if I can’t even trust you in the kitchen?”

“Sorry for worrying you (Y/N).”

You lightly smiled and pecked his cheek, returning to your original position of being the small spoon.

“Hey Kiba?” You mumbled with closed eyes, right on the brink of falling sleep.

“Yes baby?” He asked, nuzzling in your hair, taking in its sweet scent.

“Please watch a fucking tutorial next time.”

 A/N: So I did get a few requests and I’m so happy that you guys are responding. I will write the requests but I might take some time so bear with me. Also if you wanna be friends dm me cause I don’t bite I promise. If i gather enough active people I might make a group of close knit members where we might share others IDs, a safe place sort of thing but that’s wayy in the future. 

Until then, show this post some love babes.

Meet you soon with another post my cookies.