#i wanna rub my face on that scruffy chin like a cat

[bizarrelittlemew]

Rhys rubbing his beard on the Cryptid Factor

Bonus(es):

[ill-skillsgard]

Six Years - Axel Cluney

Title: Six Years

Characters: AU Axel Cluney x ambiguous female OC

Description: Six years, ten years, twenty... No amount of jail time will stop Axel from taking back his throne.

Warning: 18+ sex/oral/cheating/dub-con (kind of, not really)/creampie - This is intended for a mature adult audience. All opinions and occurrences in this piece are purely fictitious and do not reflect any real person or event. Please read at your own discretion.

Note: I feel really bad for having no time to work on drabble requests and stuff. I’m sure you all understand now isn’t the easiest time and my silence is for no reason other than focusing more energy on important matters. Here’s a piece from my Patreon for those of you who don’t subscribe. And anyone who is a patron, I’ve just dropped a surprise for you guys over that way. 

I hope you guys enjoy!

+

She gasped, not from pleasant surprise—though Axel’s presence indeed came unexpected—but from utter shock. How dare he knock on her door late at night and how dare he dawn that crooked, criminal smile. How dare he pitch his arm against the doorjamb, wearing his pants low on his hips with the band of his underwear on display, his own version of a supermodel. And how dare he try to reach out and touch her face.

Fantasies of this exact situation had frolicked in her daydreams for years, but she never expected them to manifest on her doorstep. Yet there he stood, winking one green eye. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, wearing his neglect on his chin and upper lip in that fashionably scruffy way. Though his upbeat energy hadn’t dwindled an inch, something about him had changed. She spent a breathless moment trying to pick out the detail.

It was the tattoos. Axel had accumulated a considerable amount of ink since last they saw each other before he went away. Her eyes studied the markings on his arms, glimmering as they moved along the crude images.

Why he chose her doorstep to reveal himself was no mystery. His grimy smile said it all. She glanced back, then stepped into the hall and shut the door. Axel gave her space—another surprise.

“What the hell are you doing here, Axel? How did you find out where I live?”

Axel flashed a lopsided grin. “That’s not important. Say, who were you talking to in there? S’that your roommate?”

He had nerves. Enough to stand at the door, listening to the mutters of conversation before knocking, interrupting her boyfriend in the middle of another political speech in which she had no volley. She had about thirty seconds—a minute, tops—to shoo her ex away before her current flame got curious.

Her choices were to tell him off, but Axel would never leave if he had already jumped through hoops to find her address, or push him down the hall into the stairwell to buy a couple more minutes of conversation. She chose the latter, and motioned him away, realizing her tank top and pyjama shorts were a drastic step-down from casual. The seam of her bottoms rode up, revealing two swells of muscle that tantalized the man following her.

Behind the fire door, he cornered her on the landing between two flights of concrete steps. Her breaths echoed off the cement and carried off above and below.

“Axel, I can’t,” she said.

“Sh, baby, don’t say that.”

A tingle of danger spread through her hands and feet—that sensation from another age when her only obligations were schoolwork and not becoming another teenage pregnancy statistic.

Axel followed her until they came eye-to-eye, her three steps up on the flight, and he on the landing.

“You look so good,” Axel said, reaching out to graze her bare legs. “I missed you.”

“Please, I can’t... My boyfriend. He’s in my apartment,” she warned.

“Who’re you dating? Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t know him. He’s from out of town,” she said.

“Oh, yeah? How long you been seeing him for?” Axel asked.

Firecrackers went off in her stomach, reminding her of the time Axel brought a handful of black cats on one of their dates. He liked to stick them in places they had no business being inside. He did that a lot.

“It doesn’t matter. This can’t happen. I’m sorry. It’s been like six years, Axel. I’ve moved on.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Axel murmured. “You seriously don’t want to pick up where we left off? Man, I loved us together. We had such good times. Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, Axe, they were good times, but that was forever ago. And I didn’t even know you were back in town! You can’t just show up out of the blue and expect me to jump into your arms.”

“I had to see you. Your brother gave me your address... After I bribed him with beer. I spent my only ten bucks in the world trying to find you.”

She cursed her sibling under her breath. He always liked Axel, and for beer, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t give up.

“Did you hear me?” Axel asked.

“Yes, I heard you!” She snapped. “It doesn’t matter, Axe. I’m not dumping my boyfriend for you.”

An oily smile slithered over his face. Axel took one step up, and she matched it, keeping their eye-level consistent. It was that smile that made her do bad things, those flashing teeth convincing her to disregard obligations. His lips had whispered and kissed her into breaking laws, promises and ties. Hell, they had nearly talked her into dropping out of school at one time. And for what? For her to become a criminal alongside him? No. She had a life to live, one that didn’t involve running from the law.

But Axel was nothing if not a persistent man. No was not a word he relished. Always one to spurn restrictions, Axel advanced on her until she turned and climbed up the stairs. He followed her to the top, licking his lips as he watched her ass moving from side to side with every step. The door to the roof stopped her as Axel grabbed her hips and pulled her backward.

Axel kissed the back of her thigh, and when she didn’t protest, stuffed his face between her legs.

“Oh, yes... Gimme that ass,” Axel shivered. “That’s mine.”

She hated that her love remained untainted by the years he spent locked up. When months had gone by she vowed to forget him, but the promise was made in vain. No man could usurp the throne she’d erected and hidden in the deepest recesses of her untamed heart. The thicket had only grown wilder and more resilient in his absence, waiting for his return to release its stranglehold.

And she hated herself for failing to resist now. Cursing her heart, she allowed him to curl his fingers under the waist of her shorts. The fireworks shooting off in her stomach began a great fire in her belly that ate away her reserve—not that her immunity to Axel’s whims had ever been any stronger than gossamer.

It was no secret that every man in her life after him had been a placeholder. Some were smart—much smarter than Axel—while others matched his look, but never mimicked his spark. Some had stable jobs, good habits and strong family ties, but they didn’t promise adventure. When she turned around to face Axel, it was like gazing into a crystal ball, watching the careless times of her life flashing in his eyes.  

He peeled her shorts off, lifted one thigh over his shoulder and yanked her panties aside to lick the parting of her folds. A moan drew from his throat, reminding her that this was real and not a fleeting vision to tickle her boredom. The sensation jarred her into the present, and she pushed his head away.

“Axel, I said I can’t.”

His hand flew out to bring her back in. “Too fucking late.”

He spun her around, pressed his palm against her tailbone, bending her over, and dove back in from behind. Ten long fingers clutched her cheeks, spreading her lips open for his tongue to explore. Her taste elated years-old desire, and soon he had her on the ground with her legs over his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “See this pussy? You see this beautiful slit right here? That belongs to me. Do you understand, sweetheart? It doesn’t matter if they put me away for six years... Ten years. Twenty. No, it doesn’t matter because you’re mine, aren’t you?”

The courage to agree with him hadn’t arrived. She fought a battle in her mind even as he trailed the tip of his tongue around her clit. There he rang, summoning her audacity with gentle flickers and groans. The vibrations woke each nerve in her body—some she thought forever put to rest. But they sang beneath his praises, voices fanning the forest fire spreading through her body.

“Axel, oh my god.”

“Yeah, nobody eats it like I do, huh?”

With her hand clasped over her mouth, she muffled her reactions. The gasps that slipped from the cracks travelled down the stair shaft. To think any moment someone might open the door excited her heart to racing. Who knew what was beyond the exit or coming up the steps from below? All she knew was his lips sipping on the liquid he spat between her legs. He worked her into a lather with his tongue, then introduced one of his fingers slowly until the warm metal of a ring brushed her opening.

“Tell me you missed my fingers inside you, baby. That’s what I wanna hear—what I need to hear right now. Say your pussy will always belong to me.”

“Axel—” she choked, still unable to admit defeat even amidst an obscene display.

Axel splayed her thighs, holding the ditches of her knees, so all she had left to think about was his mouth trailing slobber and a lively tongue in luscious patterns over her pussy. No inch of her parts went untouched, unkissed or without admiration for long. And the noises—oh, the sweet sound of Axel’s purr against her clit, magnificent and just intense enough to tease her to the edge of orgasm. He added another finger and rubbed upwards while tickling her thighs with his scruff.

“I want your cum. Right now. It belongs to me, and I’ve come to take what’s mine. You can tell your pansy-ass boyfriend to pack his bags, ‘cause I’m home now,” Axel’s voice trailed into a giggle. She despised how cute he could be with his infectious laughter and straying eyes. “Be sure to thank him for keeping my pussy warm, though.”

A smirk broke over her face, setting Axel off on another filthy exclamation.

“Yeah, that’s right. You’ve been waiting for this big cock, haven’t you? Tell me, honey... Is he hung like me? Does he stretch your pussy out ‘til it’s sore like I do?”

Still, she remained silent. Axel could have her body, but he would never hear her say he was right. And it was that stubbornness he loved.

“Oh, come on, cat got your tongue, baby? Or is it you can’t think when I finger your wet little hole?”

He sped his strokes, angling his fingertips just so, reading her face even if she muffled her cries behind her hand. This skill he mastered long ago. Every bit of her body came alive beneath his touch, and he used each part to arouse her forth. Her nipples were subject to his free hand, pulled and pinched between his knuckles as he scooped up one breast and the other. When he had his fill of toying with her chest, his hand slithered to her neck, first caressing and then squeezing with care. A trapped moan buzzed in her throat, assuring him the motion he maintained with his other hand was well received.

Two fingers coaxing fluid, a pair of lips kissing and sucking at her clit, and a firm hold on her throat had her pleasure soaring until it hovered in the air, finally nose-diving into an explosion of pent up lust, heat and scandal. With the plummet came the harsh reality: she was unfaithful. It was too late; hammered in stone, factual. She was a cheater, and nothing would fix that. No amount of regret or sorrow could cleanse this mistake. But oh, how her womanhood trembled beneath his charge.

“Yes, that’s what I want. See? I knew you wanted it.”

Axel hadn’t finished when her tremors turned to shakes. He climbed the two remaining steps, took hold of her and flipped her onto her knees.

“My turn. Did you think I’d let you go without a little something for me? Without giving you this big cock?”

“I have to go. My boyfriend—”

The clap of a cupped hand meeting skin interrupted her protest and thundered down the stairwell.

“I didn’t come all this way not to pump you full of cum. So shut your mouth before I make you and take my fucking load like a good girl.”

Ever a man of his word, Axel made a quick act of finishing inside of her. He rubbed against her, balls emptying months of lust and abstinence while he laid his cheek against her back, panting.

“Did you miss me, baby?” Axel asked, feeling around for her shorts to hand back.

“I should have known you’d do something like this when you came home,” she dismissed.

“Honey, I did nothing I wasn’t allowed to do,” Axel chuckled. “Sure, I threw you off guard. But what does it matter? You’d have caught wind of my being home and dropped that little boyfriend of yours in a heartbeat. Know why?”

She twisted around to watch Axel helping her with her shorts. “Why?”

“Because you love me, and I love you, and we are meant for each other. Now go back to him with my cum inside you. Sleep beside him for one more night. I don’t care. You’ll be with me again soon.”

[dontshouta]

warm

summery: You work the night shift at the local cat cafe and anticipate the appearance of a certain cat lover. pairing: aizawa shouta x reader word count: 1956 note: hi ! this is my first mha lil fic so pls,,,,, go easy on me

Your chin was pressed neatly into the palm of your hand as you stare into the abyss, mind unpresent while the clock ticked by. The cats were lounging languidly on the various cat towers and couches, some hopping about with unrelenting energy while others simply watched, their sharp eyes slanted ever so slightly in the quiet atmosphere. You stifled a yawn, casting a quick glance to your watch before sighing. You were in for a long night, Tuesday nights were always hauntingly slow. At least you didn’t have to deal with obnoxious customers, you decided. You didn’t mind the quiet, either. While one was in the company of several dozen cats, it was hard to complain. Your mind was in a different place, anyhow. Sometimes, a certain hero would drag himself into the establishment, eyes bloodshot and droopy while he’d make his way to his designated area in a corner near the register. He was your favorite.

With all the limited interactions with him he sure did make you feel brainless. It felt like all rationale would be packed neatly in a box with a pretty bow and yeeted violently out the window whenever he graced the establishment with his presence. 

Regardless, you hoped he’d come in tonight, as you hoped he would every night. Whenever he was in the establishment, the two of you would rarely make conversation, you were always too anxious to make any in fear of bothering the quiet hero. You would usually find him napping with several cats snuggled up on his chest and a hint of a smile donning his scruffy face. At times, you’d be tempted to snap a picture of the adorable moment before you, but would ultimately decide that that would be a serious breach of privacy. Pro hero or not. 

Your night always seemed to brighten whenever you would hear his light snore between the purring cats around him. Without even doing much of anything at all, he still managed to make your chest feel warm. You rolled your lip in between your teeth. Maybe if he comes in tonight, I could make some light conversation. Your cheeks blossomed with heat. What if I say something stupid? I don’t wanna embarrass myself! You huffed at your conscious and decided some small talk wouldn’t hurt anybody. If he even came in.

You busied yourself with your nightly duties, not wanting to stay later than you had to, all the while humming to yourself and occasionally singing softly to the rowdy kitties. You loved those irritable puffballs with every fiber of your being, giving them all the love they certainly didn’t want with a smile on your face.

The bell in front rang softly, signaling a customer had arrived. You tried to cool the growing smile on your face, yelling a quick Be right there! before rushing towards the front. You nodded to yourself, trying to get your confidence up before greeting what you hoped was your favorite customer. Any normal person wouldn’t have gotten their hopes up that quickly, but you were pretty accustomed to the hero’s schedule. No sane person would enter a cat cafe in the dead of night. In passing, you wondered why the cafe’s hours were so late.

You blew out a calming breath, a welcoming smile plastered on your face as you steadied your nerves. Your eyes met his familiar tired ones immediately, your smile softening as you took him in. He looked just as mysterious as he always did, chin buried in his scarf, hair wild, and hands deep in his pockets while he stood. He scanned the pastry display case with the smallest hint of interest, giving you some time to stare unabashedly at the hero. He looked so magnificent in the warm glow of the cafe, his nose the cutest shade of pink due to the winter air outside. You could stare at him all night if you could. Most nights, you did. Not in a stalkery way, tough.

His eyes finally met yours with a raised brow. You bolted upright, cheeks blushing uncontrollably at being caught red-handed. Oh gosh he probably thinks I’m some weirdo. I haven’t even greeted him yet! Gosh I could throw up. Your mind was racing a mile a minute, overcalculating the man before you and completely forgetting to do your job. What if I just blew my chances with him? Nonsense, some staring wouldn’t completely shatter any hopes I had with him. What were you even thinking, thinking you could openly stare at this god among men? Wait, what chances? I had better chances getting wailed on by a homerun baseball than getting in any sort of relationship with him. You heavily preferred the latter, though. Your brow scrunched anxiously as your thoughts spun like a hurricane in your mind. He cleared his throat, looking at you pointedly. He looked amused. You wanted the ground to swallow you up right then and there and condemn your life to an eternity of solitude within the Earth’s core. 

“Good evening! Welcome to NekoNeko Cafe, how may I help you?” You greeted shakily, shoulders tense to your ears with a nervous smile. His lips twitched, barely hiding his amusement. You wanted to pout, maybe even scream a little? Okay, that’s a little extreme. He found your floundering absolutely hilarious. You couldn’t wait to get home and throw yourself an extravagant pity party. 

“A blueberry muffin.. Please.” He mumbled softly, expression back to neutral. You blinked, almost positive he would’ve rubbed salt into your ego-wound. You then mentally kicked yourself, you didn’t find him to be a rude man at all. Quiet, sure, but never rude. To you, at least. Your anxiety plagued mind just couldn’t help but dredge up the worst possible scenarios.

So, silently thanking the universe for blessing you with an equally attractive and respectful man, you opened the display of sweets and carefully grabbed the tastiest looking blueberry muffin the cafe had to offer at the moment. Your shaky hands offered the pastry to the tall man who accepted it mutely, his rough hands grazed yours ever so slightly, shocking you to the core. You retracted immediately, blushing furiously at basically nothing. You mentally kicked yourself. Harder this time. With a steel toed boot. You had no idea why you were so jumpy, it’s not like this was your first interaction with him. Yet, you were acting like a schoolgirl who was too scared to confess to their crush. Which, yeah, that’s kind of what was happening. You cleared your throat, hoping he wasn’t watching you as closely as you thought he was and punched the order into the register.

“That’ll um, be $2.46..” Your voice was barely above a whisper, afraid it would break under his gaze.

“Sorry, sweetheart, what was that?” 

You jolted upright again, blinking owlishly up at him with the utmost surprise. Did he really just-? Did he just call you sweetheart? Surely, your ears were deceiving you. Maybe he said meat fart? You felt your whole body burst into flames. Too warm.

“I- I- I said… tha-that’ll be $2.46!” You were embarrassed. But oh-so flattered. You couldn’t believe he had called you sweetheart. You were on cloud nine, your heart hammering in your chest as you watched him pull out the cash with heart-eyes. Your mind had turned to mush, you could sing. No, that’d be weird. 

I want him to call me sweetheart again.

He placed the money in your open palm, fingers lingering this time, before pulling away completely. Were you going crazy, or was he flirting with you? 

“Keep the change, sweetheart.” He teasingly winked before leisurely heading to his designated spot.

There it was again. Sweetheart. AND a bonus wink? Your legs felt about ready to crumple underneath you. You stole a glance his way, watching him take a small bite of his muffin while his feline friends crowded around him. A breath escaped your lungs, finally feeling free from his calculating gaze while his attention was on the playful kitties. 

You couldn’t let your interaction end for the night. He was flirting with you, right? You just couldn’t let it die now. You eyed his abandoned receipt, a blush creeping up on your cheeks again as a plan formulated in your mind. You snatched the receipt before you could change your mind and hurriedly scribbled your phone number onto it. You thought about drawing a cute little heart next to it. You dropped that thought as soon as it materialized in your brain, crushing it under your mind’s foot and spitting on it. You decided you had enough embarrassment for the night.

With renewed confidence, you stomped over to the unsuspecting man who was offering his muffin to the calico curled up on his chest. 

You bowed deeply, offering the receipt in both your extended hands. Now you definitely felt like a pitiful schoolgirl.

“You.. you forgot your receipt!” You exclaimed, still bowing. Your face felt like it was steaming, embarrassment dripping out of every pore. You hoped he would relieve you of it, and soon. You couldn’t bow forever.

“Ah, thank you.” He mumbled, gingerly taking the receipt from your hand and studying it intently.

“It was no problem!” Your mind couldn’t stop screaming. You felt like an absolute fool. Run away! Now! While you still can! You turned on your heel briskly and made a mad dash for the register. Or, at least you tried to.

A strong hand wrapped around your wrist before you could make your grand escape, giving it a strong pull in the opposite direction. This is it. This is how I die. Your mind whirled, feeling extremely hot and clammy. 

You made contact with a hard chest. When did he stand up? Goodness, he’s so tall, I’m gonna throw up. You rubbed your aching nose, trying to calm your queasy stomach. And anxious mind. And erratic breathing. Why were you freaking out? A little rejection never hurt anybody. It’ll humble you and make you never want to make the first move ever again. His hand was still around your wrist. He was pleasantly warm. You hoped he couldn’t feel the gross heat emanating from your skin. 

“Sweetheart if you wanted my number, you could’ve just asked.” He whispered, his body bent slightly to level his mouth to your ear. You shuddered involuntarily, you heart rate spiking at the proximity. He smelt like mint. A little like citrus, too. A hint of sweat made itself known, it didn’t bother you though. He’s a pro hero, what can ya do. Suddenly, his words hit your brain like a ton of bricks and you spluttered, taking the tiniest step back.

“I- Well- You-!” You blew an exasperated breath out and stomped your foot like a preschooler. “Well, maybe if you didn’t walk away after your little flirting escapade I wouldn’t have had to doodle my number on your dumb receipt.” You were being too defensive, you knew that, but you felt like you had to justify your high school antics. Especially when he was looking so amused. 

He chuckled, retreating from your personal space and standing to his full height. Not really though, he was slouching. You found it endearing. No he’s making a fool out of you! Not. Endearing.

You had a marvelous pout on your face, arms crossed, and toe tapping away as you awaited his response with bated breath. 

He stuffed the receipt into his front pocket and shot you a cat-like smirk. You genuinely felt like he shot you right in the moment, that stupid smirk doing more to you than it should have.

“You can expect a call from me then, sweetheart.”

[scenarihoes]

Aaah youre writings so good! Can you do a kirishima x reader where she runs up to kirishima one day on the streets (who she hasnt met yet) and starts pretending to be his girlfriend. He gets the hint as 2 creeps start questioning him. But unlike most fics where the guys instantly smooth talking the reader hes just a blushing awkward mess like "holy crap a pretty girls arm is rapped around me! Shit stay focused!!!"

thanks for the request baby, enjoy!!!!!

my hero  

Kirishima Eijirou / Reader

Sucker stick poking out from lips, late into the evening wandering down the mostly quiet street, the last thing Kirishima expected to collide with him was another person. He certainly didn’t expect to apologize, only for her to wrap her arms around his body, bury her face into his chest, and cry out, “There you are, I missed you so much!”“Woah-“ He doesn’t return your clingy gesture, hands coming to hover over your back with his eyes wide, face a hot red. “What’s going on here?”

You nuzzle your face against him, hands gripping tight fists in his shirt. He isn’t sure what to do- should be push you off? Clearly you thought you knew him, should he just wait for you to look at his face and then apologize for your mistake…? Stunned, he just stands there, trying to tell himself there’s no reason to flush so darkly at a obvious mix up.It only get’s worse when you suddenly shout, “I love you so much!”His mouth opens, he’s going to have to call you out on this, he can’t let you think you’re clinging to someone you /love/-“Oi, what the fuck is this?” A voice pipes from the shadows. He see’s eyes before he can see a figure creeping from the darkness. Piercing yellow, like a cat’s but not nearly as attractive. He see’s height, and then shoulders, long slender legs as the stranger show’s itself. Dark hair, scruffy cheeks with his hands shoved into his pockets. The slouched form and annoyed expression doesn’t make Kirishima feel very happy to see him.“You got a boyfriend? Lying bitch.” Another voice sounds, and Kirishima can feel himself growing nervous when another person emits from behind the first. He’s not nearly as rugged looking, maybe even a little plain, but his tone is even worse than the others. Ugly, demanding. “I’m so glad you’re here,” You don’t look back at them, grasping him even harder. He’s starting to connect the dots. “I was worried I wouldn’t see you.”Despite his natural instincts of protection, he feel’s his heart skip a beat when he can feel the heat of your face through his shirt. Suddenly that sucker in his mouth make’s him feel like he can do nothing but watch the two boys grow closer, and feel you hug him even more urgently.“Who the hell is this guy?” The golden eye’d male grunts, staring at Kirishima with darkening eyes. Finally you look over your shoulder, glaring at them. “He’s my boyfriend you creeps! Go away!”Kirishima tenses and feel’s his soul leave his body. It doesn’t stop him from pressing his hands flat to your spine, crushing you against himself maybe a little bit too hard. He know’s he must look like a red herring- on one hand he’s a big guy, muscled with blood red hair and jaggedly sharp teeth, but on the other, he’s got candy between those teeth and a face almost red enough to match his hairs hue. “You’re her boyfriend?” The smaller asks, narrowing his eyes. They’re blue, he can see that now. When you look up at him from his own chest, eyes literally pleading, he swallows hard. “Y-Yeah!” He shouts, careful to not let his sucker fall and hit you in the face. “I’m her man, so you better back off!”“Seriously? This guy?” Blue eyes find his own, and Kirishima is torn between two emotions: the urge to fight whoever these scumbags are in means of protecting you, and also his nerves flaring his chest everytime you rub your cheeks into him. He know’s you’re doing it for your own safety, playing a part, but he can’t not flush.He’s also party offended- what the hell does this guy mean, ‘seriously’?“This guy!” You shout, face still hidden against his body. “So go away!”“Baby come on,” Golden eyes drawls, and he’s coming closer. “We could show you one hell of a good time.” His buddy walks up beside him and crosses his arms.You shake your head. “I don’t wanna go with you! I’m staying right here with my boyfriend! Get out of here!” Kirishima holds you protectively against himself, but he doesn’t feel very strong. He feels like if they take one step closer he’ll have to throw down, but so long as they keep their distance, maybe they’ll take a hike. He glares at them even though he knows he’s flustered beyond belief. Such a cute person wrapped around him, depending on him. It make’s him angry, almost, to know two punks were harassing you long before you found someone to help you. “Tell them!” You look up at him, and he flushes again. He stares at you, lost in your eyes, until you whisper to him, ‘Please!’“O-Oh-“ He straightens and snaps his attention back to the two figures. “You heard her. She’s staying right here with me.”Golden eyes scoffs. “Whatever. She’s a tease, anyways. Let’s get outta here, man.” His friend lingers for a moment, and Kirishima has a split second where he feels like maybe they’ve been cracked, but he just scoffs as well. He spits on the concrete and huffs. “Lame.”Like rats, they slink right back into the darkness.You slump against him. He can hear your shaky breathing, can feel the way you still havn’t let go even when they’re long gone. It’s only when Kirishima realizes that he’s still got his arms wrapped securely around you does he jump, lifting his hands like he was breaking laws by continuing to touch you.“Sorry!” He blurts, red from his neck up. “I didn’t mean to just- Like- Force you to me, or- or anything.”Looking up at him, chin pressed to his chest, you tilt your head. It take’s processing for your eyes to suddenly widen, your hands gone from his shirt as you yank yourself away. “Oh shit, I’m sorry!”“D-Don’t worry about it!”“I just felt really safe, I didn’t mean to not let go.” You wring your fingers together, and in turn rubs his neck nervously.“It’s- It’s all cool! Who were those guys bothering you?”You shrug and glance over your shoulder as if they still might be there. “Just creeps who saw me walking alone and started bothering me.”“Good thing they turned tail, I would have taught them a lesson for sure.” Kirishima brings his hand to his other arms bicep, grinning.“Oh wow, thank you.” You giggle, running a hand through your hair. “I’m ____, by the way.”Kirishima feels a different kind of smile poke through his ferocious expression. Your name fits you so well, he feels his face start to turn red all over again. He rubs his neck and tries to not appear so bashed in front of you.“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m uh- Kirishima.” He states, and straightens his back. “Hero in training.”You blink at him, tilting your head. “Hero? You go to U.A.?”Pridefully, he nods and sticks his chest out. “Yep! Class 1-A!” “Oh wow, that’s so cool. I just go to the central highschool, nothing really fancy like that. I feel like I’ve seen you before- You participated in the sports festival, didn’t you?” Once more Kirishima nods, and you grin. “I knew I /thought/ I saw you from somewhere! I don’t know much about the heroes or anything like that, but I saw you fight that one white-haired guy, you were so cool!”Tetsu-Tetsu, a good friend of his. Kirishima laughs happily at your words. “Aw geez, thank you.”“No, thank you!” You blush and look up at from your lashes shyly. “The world could always use heroes like you. Especially during times like this, even if it is a little mundane to save some random girl from strangers.”Kirishima flushes again, his heart stutters. “What? That’s not mundane at all! I’m just glad I could help you out.”“Mm… I just feel a little bad, y’know? You were probably having such a nice night until I ran up to you… Is there anyway I can make it up to you?”In your tone, he notices, there’s something that goes a little further beyond just a basic ‘thank you’. It’s hopeful, like you’re insinuating something. He takes the chance and prays he’s reading you correctly.“I mean,” He rubs the back of his head, chuckling sheepishly. “You could let me get you coffee, or-or dinner, or something.” He shrugs. “Sometime.”“That-“ You stop and clear your throat, and when you speak up again you’re much softer now. “That would be great. Do you… Want my number?”“Yeah!” Kirishima blurts almost a little too eagerly. He reaches onto his pocket hands you his phone after fishing it out. “You can just type it in, if you want.”You punch your number in accordingly, occasionally glancing up at him with flustered eyes. He’s sure he looks the same, red faced and anxious. When you hand him his phone back, he checks it over. “Thank you.” He says, looking up at you.“Text me when you have some time… I’d love to see you again.”He feels his heart pang in his chest, his sucker still tucked against his cheek suddenly tasting a little bit sweeter. “Y-Yeah! That sounds awesome. Do you want me to walk you home…?”For a moment you stare at him, eyes wide, and he feel’s like he may have fucked it up already, but then you just giggle and nod quickly. “That would be great, thank you!”“Alright then,” He says as he lets out a deep breath. “Lead the way, then.”You come to his side and hold your hands to yourself, glancing up at him. Every-time you do his heart lurches in his chest, his cheeks growing just a little bit warmer. It’s not a long trip, just a few blocks away, but he loves it all the same- getting to know you just a little bit more. When you depart, standing in your doorway and waving him goodbye, bidding him a safe trip home, he’s on cloud nine. All the way back to his own home, away from the dorms over the weekend, the only thing that he can think about is what he’ll wear on your first date.

[plusultra-anime]

The Cat Dragged In

A Destiel minific (or at least, it was supposed to be mini but it ran away with me a little). This is going to be posted up on AO3 just as soon as I can get an account, but for now, here’s the first chapter (1/3). (Feedback welcome/reblogs appreciated)

Supernatural Pairing: Dean x Cas / Destiel  Based off (but not really sticking to) a prompt from @dailyau / @ashesinyourhair: “How the hell does your cat keep getting into my house AU” Word count: 3.2k ... ish  Warnings: a bit of swearing

The Cat Dragged In

 “—Jee-heesus! … Fuck.”

A black cat with eyes as green as a summer forest was sitting on the counter. Dean’s counter. The counter in Dean’s until-now-cat-free apartment. Dean pressed a hand to his chest and took a few steadying breaths. God, he hadn’t been expecting to see a cat when he turned the corner into the kitchen.

“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, approaching the counter slowly, reaching out a hand. The cat sniffed his fingers then pressed its cheek against his palm. He rubbed its fur. It was purring, a loud rumble, and it gave a harsh “myao” when he stopped.

“I don’t wanna be friends, dude,” Dean mumbled. He lifted up the tag on its collar so the writing would catch the light. 2B, it read, and following that was the name and address of Dean’s apartment building.

“Hm.” So it came from the apartment directly above. Weird. Dean had never heard anyone moving about up there so he had kind of assumed it was empty.

The cat stretched out, wriggling its toes and letting out a big yawn that showed needle teeth. It sprang down onto the floor, its claws making a soft click on the floor tiles as it landed, and started to rub itself on Dean’s leg.

“Mmmrraow!”

“You’re cute too buddy, but I gotta get you home before your owner starts worrying about you.”

And fuck knows how you got in here, he thought, tapping the countertop. Gotta have that damn widow lock checked.

Dean slid a hand under the cat’s belly and started to lift it, tucking his other hand under its butt to hold it against his chest. It was purring again, and the warm vibration was soothing. Dean kissed the top of its head and made a few soothing clicks with his tongue.

“Ok, buddy, let’s get you home.”

Dean tapped the door shut with his foot on the way out and climbed the stairs, muttering to the cat about how breaking into people’s apartments was wrong and how maybe he should get a dog to protect his home from invading felines. The cat replied in curt meows while sticking claws into Dean’s chest.

The hallway of floor 2 was a little dimmer than floor 1, with only one light in the stairwell and one at the far end of the hall. 2B was, of course, the second door down.

Dean shifted the cat’s weight so he could wriggle a hand free. He gave three sharp knocks and took a step back, casting a glance behind him and down the hall.

The lock clicked; the door of apartment 2B opened just a crack, and then a bit more.

“Lucifer!” A deep voice that reached right down to Dean’s toes and all the way back up again.

The guy looked a little scruffy, with dark messy hair and a blue tie that wasn’t quite tied properly. His shirt was wrinkled and his chin was dark with stubble. There was a little fleck of dried toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, and dark bags under eyes that shone sapphire. He had squinted at Dean, until he saw the cat. Then his whole body had softened and without another word he scooped Lucifer up from the crook of Dean’s arm.

“Found the little guy making himself at home in my kitchen,” Dean explained, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced.” 2B shifted his eyes to Dean’s face.

“I mean, if anything it showed me there’s a fault in my home security somewhere, so really I should be thanking … Lucifer.” He tried not to smile around the name as it came out of his mouth. “Is he named after Lucifer in that, uh … the Disney one?”

“No, he’s named after the devil,” 2B replied, deadpan. Dean couldn’t tell if he was joking. He tried a friendly smile.

“He’s that bad, huh?”

2B chuckled and gave Lucifer an affectionate scratch under the chin. “He can get up to mischief sometimes, that’s for sure.”

“No kidding. Well I’ll see you around, 2B. If he goes missing again, I’m right under you so, y’know. Feel free to knock.” 

***

The sun was just starting to rise, colouring everything that hazy grey-blue, when Dean next saw the guy from 2B. He was struggling with an armful of books, trying to open the front door but unable to manoeuver his hand into a position that would enable him to put the key in the lock. Dean, exhausted from too long a shift at the Red Rose, steeled himself for a social interaction that he really didn’t have the energy for, and jogged the last few paces to the door.

“I got it, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Thank you.”

Dean took out his key and unlocked the door, stepping through so he could hold it open.

“Could-?” 2B stopped himself, as Dean closed the door and started towards his apartment. He turned and gave 2B a questioning look.

“Could you open my apartment for me?” 2B finished, glancing away from Dean’s weary gaze. Dean let his eyes drop to the pile of books then looked at 2B’s face. He tried not to smile at his bashful expression.

“Yeah, no problem.”

They began to climb the stairs side by side. Dean’s legs ached from a long night of being on his feet and he yearned to crawl into bed and go out like a light, but he would feel terrible if he’d left 2B to struggle with that ridiculous pile of books.

When they reached the apartment, Dean took the key that was dangling from 2B’s hand and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside so that 2B could enter, then leaned a hand against the doorframe.

“You gonna manage from here?” he asked, only half-joking.  

2B placed the books on an end table with care then exhaled heavily. “Yeah, thanks.”

Suddenly Dean could hear cats – multiple cats – meowing loudly from the depths of the apartment.

2B called out, “Yes, Papa’s home!” There was the clicking of claws on wood, and Dean peered round into the apartment to see three cats pouring into the front room. A small, confident tortoiseshell took the lead, followed by a fluffy white cloud of a cat – who eyed Dean warily – and black, sleek Lucifer padded along lazily behind them.

“You have three cats?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Seven,” 2B replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He bent down to pet the tortoiseshell, who was rubbing itself against his legs. “But some of them come and go as they please.”

Well that might explain how Lucifer got down to my apartment, thought Dean, although he still hadn’t found any place it could have got in.

2B straightened up and turned back to Dean. “Thank you for your help,” he said in that deep, flat voice. Dean took this as a dismissal. He nodded and patted the doorframe once.

“No problem. See you around 2B.”

2B chuckled. He watched his tall, tired-looking neighbour move down the hall a little before he closed the door with a gentle click. Lucifer was sitting at his feet, gazing at him intently. With a smile, 2B picked him up and looked him in the eyes.

***

“Papa’s home.” A door closes with a thud and there are cats meowing in the next room. Dean hears the clink of keys being thrown onto an end table and heavy, tired footsteps. He stands and the room focuses. A man is walking towards him, dishevelled dark hair, bright blue eyes and a wrinkled shirt. Dean smiles, he can feel warmth radiating towards him. The man smiles back, his nose crinkling at the top, and he stops a foot away from Dean. Dean feels a cat rubbing against his leg. The man is even closer now. A cat meows.

It meows but there’s something wrong with how it sounds. It’s nearer than it should be. Dean’s breath quickens. There’s something wrong, it’s not here it’s …

Real.

Dean jolted awake with a start, his breath coming sharp. The sun had set since he’d rested his head on the desk – just for a minute – and a quick glance at the clock on his computer told him he’d been asleep for a little under two hours.

Fuck.

He sat up and stretched out his arms. He rubbed his sore neck. Then he noticed Lucifer.

The cat paused in licking its legs to honour Dean with a glance. “Myao,” it said, before going back to its wash. Dean let out a heavy sigh that turned into a groan part way through.

“Come on, man, not today.” He rose and went to pick up Lucifer, who started purring against his chest.  On the way to the door, Dean picked up and pocketed his keys, grabbed his phone and double-checked the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be late to his shift.

Dean half-ran up the stairs, cradling the cat as gently as he could, and rapped loudly on the door of apartment 2B.  

No answer. He waited a few more seconds and knocked again. Still no answer.

Must be out. Dean licked his lips. He hesitated. No, he would be late for work. He turned back to the stairwell and made his way back to his apartment, where he left Lucifer under strict instructions to behave, before rushing out and locking the door behind him.

It was almost five in the morning when he got back. He’d got a cute girl’s phone number and raked in some good tips this shift, so it was in good spirits that he walked the few blocks back to the apartment building.

As soon as he was home, Dean made himself a coffee. He told himself he was only going to work on his essay an hour before going to bed. He sat down in front of his computer and woke it up. As he worked, the sun began to rise, breaking the sky into hues of pink and gold.

There was a soft knock at the front door. Dean glanced up from the screen and frowned, not entirely sure whether he’d actually heard something. But then there was a second knock. He stood and stretched.

When he opened the front door, he was surprised to see 2B, looking sleepy in his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” 2B started, “But I just got home and Lucifer wasn’t th-”

He stopped short as a loud “mrao” came from the bedroom. Dean winced as he realised he’d forgotten about the cat.

“Yeah, he’s here,” said Dean, his gaze flicking to 2B’s lips which were parted slightly, then up to his eyes which were bright despite the guy’s obvious fatigue. “He showed up right before I left for work but you weren’t in so I left him here, then … uh, forgot about him.”

2B gave a quiet laugh, his teeth showing and his nose crinkling. Dean felt himself chuckling too.

“Oh, he’s not going to be happy,” 2B said with a smile, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Do you want to come in? I was just gonna make some more coffee.”

“Thank you, I think I could use some caffeine.”

Dean stepped aside to let him in. 2B looked around the room carefully, as though taking note of everything.

“Make yourself at home,” Dean told him. He went over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and yawned widely and comfortably. Only three hours until he’d have to leave for class. He should have slept, he knew, but hey, at least the essay was almost finished.  

“Hey 2B, do you take cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. 2B was sitting on the couch with Lucifer, who had appeared from wherever he’d been hiding. At Dean’s question, though, 2B stood, eliciting a “myao” from the cat.

“Yes, please,” 2B replied, walking over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room. He had undone a few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie a little more, so it hung slightly more to the left. The bit of skin at the base of his throat, Dean noticed, was flushed, and there was a little colour in his cheeks too. Dean’s heart started to pound.

“It’s Castiel, by the way,” 2B continued. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.

“What is?”

2B laughed. “My name. You keep calling me 2B. I’m Castiel.”

Dean felt a blush creep over his face and ears. God I need this coffee. “Oh. Castiel, huh? That’s a pretty unusual name.” He busied himself with making the coffee so Castiel couldn’t see him blushing at his own stupidity. It took him a full five seconds to remember in which drawer he kept the spoons. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. Which actually sounds boring next to Castiel.”

He liked the way the word felt rolling out of his mouth. Castiel.

“My family is … a little strange.” Castiel gave a dry smile, and a shrug. Dean slid his coffee towards him over the counter and wrapped a hand around his own mug.

“I kind of assumed you just came from a family of cats,” Dean teased. Castiel’s eyes narrowed.

 They sat side by side on the couch, Dean cradling his coffee, and Castiel petting Lucifer, having placed his coffee carefully on the low table in front of them.

Watching Castiel’s hand moving over Lucifer’s smooth fur over and over, Dean felt a nagging sense of déjà vu. His pulse quickened a little. Lucifer was gazing at him intently.

Castiel shifted abruptly to reach for his coffee, and the spell was broken. With his thudding heart and a twang of adrenaline in his stomach, suddenly Dean was thinking of the box of cigarettes hidden in his dresser. It was rare for him to have a craving for a smoke, but there it was. And it had been a long night.

He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I smoke? I wouldn’t usually but …”

“Long night?” Castiel offered him an understanding smile, his eyes sparkling, as he sipped his coffee. He waved his hand, which Dean took to mean he didn’t mind.

The cigarettes were in the bottom drawer where he kept his dress shoes, a gun and a beaten-up scrapbook. He kept them in there because he hardly ever went in there – out of sight out of mind, after all, and for the most part it worked. He took a single cigarette from the packet, as well as the lighter that was stowed beside it. He stifled another yawn as he made his way to the window in the front room.

Dean pushed the window open a bit then moved the latch, which allowed him to prop it open wider. He leaned out a little and brought the lighter to the cigarette, brought the cigarette to his lips.

Click. Whshh. He inhaled and took the smoke back, deeply.

 Castiel let his eyes focus on Dean’s mouth. A stream of smoke was pouring out, out of his mouth and out the window. Dean’s lips looked dry, and they wrinkled as he pulled on the cigarette again, blew out another lungful of smoke. His eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks. There was so much detail in his face Castiel could hardly bear it. Or perhaps it was just that Castiel was tired enough to notice too much detail. Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Dean’s face.

His eyes opened again, burning moss green. He was turning his face to look out over the road to the stretch of park beyond. Castiel could hear a dog barking.

The early sunlight gave Dean’s face and jaw a soft, golden glow. The front of his grey t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat in places, and the plaid shirt he wore over it was rolled up to the elbows, exposing sturdy, tanned arms. One of his hands rested on the window sill and the other held the cigarette just an inch from his lips. The fabric of his shirt rippled ever so slightly in the breeze, which was bringing in the scent of Dean’s cigarette. One of his bare feet was scratching the calf of his other leg. And Castiel’s stomach was full of butterflies, as it had been ever since Dean had brought Lucifer home the first time.

“Y’know, Cas,” Dean started, turning his head to look at Castiel, “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.” A smirk danced over his lips. Castiel’s stomach flipped and he glanced away, unsure whether Dean was joking or not.

 Dean blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth towards the open window and chuckled to himself. Castiel was blushing, which really hadn’t been the intended effect of his joke. But dammit, it was cute. Having taken a last, long drag, Dean held the smoke in and flicked the spent cigarette out of the window into the road. He exhaled slowly, then closed the window up. He returned to the couch and picked up his coffee cup, draining it completely.

“Anyway,” said Dean, keen to change the subject to abate the tension. “Why did you have all those books?”

Castiel looked up from his cup, his eyebrows pulled down, lips slightly apart.

“For … reading,” he answered carefully.

“For reading,” Dean repeated, “Like reading for pleasure?”

“Yes.” Castiel took a mouthful of his coffee.

“But you had, what, twenty books?”

“Uh, eleven. But yes, I’m working my way through the theology and mythology sections of the university library.”

Dean straightened up. “You go to the university?” How have we never crossed paths before? he thought. He was sure he would have noticed eyes that blue and a smile that bright if he’d seen it on campus.

“Well, I work in the library, night shifts.” He gestured to the coffee and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “But I’m hoping to start my Master’s this fall.”

Dean whistled low; he was impressed. “And here sit I, a lowly undergrad.” Castiel chuckled at this.

Lucifer stretched and gave a few low, grumbly remarks, as if to remind them he was there. Draining the last of his coffee, Castiel stood.

“Lucifer’s right, the cats need their breakfast. Thank you for the coffee.”

Dean rose too, and held out a hand for Castiel to shake. “It was a pleasure.”

Castiel’s hand was soft but his grip firm. There was a little roughness to his palm, and the sensation reached right down to Dean’s toes and back again. His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn’t look away from Castiel’s intense blue eyes. They drilled though him in a way that made Dean think Castiel could tell exactly what he was thinking.

Their hands parted, their fingers brushing against each other. Dean tried a smile, and though it felt forced, Castiel smiled back. Dean exhaled. Lucifer meowed.