#idk what draws me to these relationships but fuck it we ball

[kamakrazeewarboyz]

Me, past, looking at Renfield and Dracula: I’m not gonna ship them

Now: holy fuck they’re everything to me

Me, past, looking at Nux and Slit: I’m not gonna ship them

Now: holy fuck they’re everything to me

[disasterbluegaybear]

Why I'm not watching the owl house series finale:

The Owl House, as a series, is just kind of disappointing. Like the writing is just bad. And it's frustrating, because it has so much potential, and then just does almost absolutely nothing with it. I watched the first season and thought it was ok, with the beginning of season 2 especially drawing me in. It kept hinting at bigger world building reveals and plot points and then... Never did anything with them. Things that could have been interesting are brought up but then never elaborated on. And I kept watching, hoping for them to expand on it. But it just never happened. I realized with one episode left, I wouldn't get what I wanted. And it wasn't just because the show got cancelled; the writing was just... Bad.

Some smaller examples include Darius and his relationship to the past Golden Guard, which could have helped explain his motives and build on his character and relationships with other characters. He was one of my faves too lol so maybe I'm salty about that, but the pieces were there, they just never did anything with them.

And the frustrating thing is this wasn't just with one of their million characters they had and never actually expanded on, this shit happened with major plot points and world building aspects, like idk, your main villain?? And like, the literal giant organism everyone lives on???

Speaking of which... The Titan :))). The TITAN. THE THING THE WORLD IS LITERALLY BUILT UP ON. KING'S DAD. Is never properly expanded on. I've seen people talk about the finale and I think they elaborate more in it? But to wait until the finale it just feels like there could have been so much more done. What about all the murals on the walls, the mysterious circumstances, the fact that everyone is literally living on what appears to be a giant corpse? That's fucking cool as hell. And they hint that there is more. But they never really do anything with it. It's just touched on shallowly and we never get any real answers. Its disappointing.

Second example oh boy here we go.... The main villain of the show, the bastard himself, Belos. The fact that his backstory with Caleb was explained through blurry portraits that most people wouldn't even notice (Hollow Mind) is just like, what? And a few words from Masha. But that's it. The most enjoyable part of the second special for me was when Belos was having fucked up hallucinations and literally digging up more corpses and destroying another grimwalker and shit, because he's fucked up and complicated and has potential to be an awesome villain. And showing that is like fuck yeah! This is interesting! But they don't expand on it enough, they always seem to cut away before they really actually explain anything. If half your story has to be told through tweets and podcasts to make any sense, then... You simply aren't writing your story well. I need actual content. That's why I love the fan content for this show so much, because they expand on all the things the show never actually does.

There are so many characters, so many plot threads they just do nothing with, and it's frustrating. I know it's just a kids show and I'm probably putting too much energy into this and need to touch some grass or whatever. This isn't even all that articulate and I could go on about how willow and gus get sidelined, etc. But it's been said before. It's just frustrating seeing people say there is nothing wrong with the show at all/blaming it all on getting cancelled when really it could've been so good. But they just... Dropped the ball.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

i have thoughts on the whole armand/daniel/marius thing and how it could happen in the show (if the show decides to go there, but i kinda hope they don't) anyways, it is very long and rambling so here you go:

like we never saw the whole armand/daniel/marius thing play out. now i don't think it's exactly a love triangle. armand and daniel break up some time after daniel becomes a vampire. because this was shit happening in the background, we don't have exact dates.

so sometime after they break up: armand tries to kill himself by walking into the sun bc he is a ball of religious issues (and i cannot wait to see what the show does with this) and also daniel goes mad.

popular theory is he goes mad bc armand's death, which is very romantic and all, but i think daniel showed some clear signs of madness before he even became a vampire. my boy was long-due for a fucking break down, is what I'm saying.

daniel is crazy and marius takes him in. idk if we ever hear him state the exact reason why, but i think daniel being armand's fledgling would have been reason enough.

so daniel is with marius while he's crazy and at some point he gets better. i think their relationship turns romantic somewhere in here, but no sure when. hopefully after he got better. bc otherwise ew.

then at some point he has to fucking realize armand is alive.

we don't get any sauce, but like a sentence telling us that daniel and armand go hunting together. then another sentence later where marius tells lestat daniel left him for armand.

(and that's my personal head-canon why daniel isn't in the painting thingy, bc marius is just being salty he got dumped)

now this space between Daniel getting better and finding out Armand is alive and being romantically involved with Marius and then leaving Marius for Armand is riff for drama and some soap opera shit. those cycles will be cycling.

though, this is just for me personally, I hope they drop the underage part for Armand when it comes to Armand/Marius.

Marius literally buys him from a brothel. You know how in porn today, barely-legal is like, a whole thing. Having young like 18, 19, 20, yr olds and making them look underage is something a lot of people on the internet like. So I imagine yee old brothels did it too so we can have an older Armand, (say 20ish just to match Daniel meeting him and Louis) who is forced to play the innocent child, the cherub, for as long as he can. And there you go, we can have his strange relationship with adulthood.

And then Marius saves him. By buying him as a slave. And like, Marius was Roman y'all, it kinda shone through with the slavery thing I'm not going to get into the Armand/Marius debate tonight. i don't like it, maybe you do. it's anne rice, ymmv is a given. the point is it happened, and we can draw a lot of parallels between the two relationships. the whole master/slave dynamic, the devil/minion. the whole conversation armand has with marius about making marius his slave, then realizing he isn't his slave at all, then marius telling him he is. daniel is the devil's minion, but armand will grant him anything he desires. it's about the power dynamic, it's about who has control.

And you know, I think old maniel could have fun with that. like hey, i fucked you and your vampire dad. or armand and him having clandestine meetings, where they're both trying to keep marius from finding out (except you know, marius is like a billion years old so his mind gift is super strong, so he can totally hear daniel's side) and there's some dramatic 'come back to me' scene and armand and daniel kiss in the rain (bc this is my fantasy and i say so)

(and then idk, marius falls back in love with pandora, or maybe mael, bc that'd be funny)

while all this is happening louis is out there living the good life, single and sucking and fucking. he's having his ho phase

[kurazaru]

I tried drawing 5 frm the umbrella academy:) I've switched to sketching with ball point pen so I can identify my mistakes more easily. Lately I haven't been doing art, which idk why. Probably has to do with my crippling fear of failure. Oh well, whatever. Posting my sketches here is my way of trying to get over this fear. I'm gonna start posting everyday from now on, I promise.

Nowww some life stuff. Basically, I came across an old photo of a summer camp and remembered my friend whom I was bffs with for like a week. Then after some stalking on Facebook I managed to find his name, and obv no one my age uses Facebook, so I searched him up on insta, found his id, and omg hes so hot now, but his acc was private, I sent him a request and he didn't accept it, which was expected. He doens't even know who I am and we have no mutual friends. I was devastated when i first got rejected, but then now that I think abt it, it's what anyone would hv done. And honestly, we were frnds for a very short time that too some 7-8 years ago. He probably doesn't remember who I am, and what we did in the summer camp. And even if he does, why would be want me in his life? Coz it's been years, and we probably have vastly different personalities compared to when we first met. There's no guarantee that we will click again. + He has some 1000 followers so I'm assuming he's popular as fuck in his school lol, and he's hot so that's that. Well, I removed my friend request, and I've gone off insta. Staying off insta is actually so helpful. I'm gonna stay off forever now, coming back only on birthdays and when I wanna post art. Though i really miss how funny insta reels are. They are top tier dude. But once again they led me to having spent 6+hrs on reels EVERYDAY which isn't healthy at all. I'm gonnaame a pact with myself today, the next 3 years, till i graduate from my college, i will not fall for anyone, and relationships are out of question(which already were considering my gay ass and i live in the ever so judgemental India)

Okkk see ya !

[kiitsunekuro]

In the Neon Lights | One

Bakugou Katsuki x Exotic Dancer!female reader

WARNINGS: alcohol use, drug mention, mention of past abusive relationship, injury (no gore), some angst, fluff, smut, dom bakugou, sub reader, oral (both receiving), fingering, spanking, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, degradation, praise. Bakugou prolly says some variation of ‘fuck’ too much. Idk it’s my first time writing for him.

Summary: Bakugou meets a pretty exotic dancer(reader) during Izuku’s bachelor party, but you’re hard to get to know.

Roughly 14.3k words. Quickly proofread.

No beta. We ball. I’m tired of looking at this so I’m posting it before I start to hate it.

18+ ONLY. NSFW. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

“Don’t see why I have to go.” Bakugou growled, crossing thick arms over his chest, glaring at his red haired friend who sat across from him on the couch in the break room of their agency.

“C’mon, man. You don’t even have to stay the entire night.”

“No, fuckin’ hate clubs.”

“It’s for your best friend's bachelor party,” Kirishima protested, then sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “Look, one hour, and I’ll cover your patrol for you anytime you need me to, no questions asked,” He thought for a moment, before holding up two fingers, “Twice.” He crossed a finger over his heart and smiled as Bakugou growled his reluctance between gritted teeth, relenting.

“I’m not getting him any fuckin’ gifts.”

“You don’t need to-“ but his sentence was cut off as Bakugou stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. ‘Small victories’, Kirishima told himself. ‘Small victories…’

Bakugou groaned, smashing his face against his palms, rubbing his temples roughly. Sure, he wanted to support Deku on his day, it had been a long time coming, but the bachelor party everyone had planned to throw for him sounded ‘fuckin’ stupid’, in his own words. The whole idea of taking someone to a strip club for a ‘last night of freedom’ rubbed him the wrong way to begin with, add to that his disdain for the general club environment and it wasn’t getting any better. He was gonna have to get drunk to make it bearable, he decided. Maybe he’d even show up a few drinks in.

An hour at most, and then he’d be out.

———-

The club was a designated spot for pro heroes to attend without drawing media attention- all the staff and dancers had been vetted and were under strict NDA’s, so that was a small weight off of his shoulders. His already volatile public image didn’t need anymore controversy. Especially not after the incident with the reporter two weeks ago that had ended with dozens of articles with titles like “BAKUGOU: HERO OR MENACE?”

Bakugou hadn’t even done anything wrong, in fact he had saved the guys’ life. But that didn’t sell as many papers or draw in as many clicks.

It was a higher end club, catering to the wealthier crowd who wanted a more luxurious experience and prided themselves on their ability to provide top-notch service. Nobody clamored for his attention, nobody was taking photos or asking for his autograph.

Still, as he shouldered his way inside, already a little tipsy, he squinted his eyes against the bright strobing lights and obnoxiously loud music and sat down off to the side of his friends, turning to the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat.” He practically yelled over the din of the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Denki drunkenly hanging around an attractive brunette talking too loudly. Deku seemed to be politely but awkwardly enjoying himself, as he pried a girl's hand away from his thigh as she tried to whisper something into his ear that caused a blush to color his cheeks, and he laughed nervously.

Bakugou smirked to himself, he fuckin’ knew this was a bad idea.

“What kind?” The bartender interrupted his thoughts, pulling his attention back to her.

“Whatever, top shelf.” Bakugou muttered dismissively. She turned to grab a bottle of expensive looking liquor, and he swiftly caught her wrist in his hand. “Make it a double.” She nodded, pulling out of his grasp. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands and pulled several large bills from his pocket to tip her- his nervousness felt out of character, out of his element, and he wasn’t used to this. He cursed himself for grabbing her, he was pretty sure that was frowned upon.

The hand of a dancer traced along his shoulders, she had seen him open his wallet, thick with money, and closed in on him like a predator.

“Hey baby,” she cooed, leaning against him with her breasts pressed firmly against his back. “How are you tonight?” Her painted lips curled into an inauthentic smile that made his skin crawl.

The bartender set his drink down in front of him, and he quickly pressed several bills into her palm, muttering some kind of apology and her furrowed brows softened a bit into a smile before she motioned to the girl beside him.

“Did you want to buy a drink for Angel?”

He gave an exasperated sigh as he pulled another bill from his wallet to hand to the dancer, standing up and turning his back to her he stalked over to his friends with his whiskey gripped tightly in his hand.

He seated himself beside Denki who was now tipping the same girl he’d been talking to as she danced, and drank heavily from his glass.

The DJ began to call the next dancer to the stage, voice booming obnoxiously over the speakers. The girl that had just finished performing grabbed her bra as the floormen used what looked like some kind of long squeegee to sweep the money from the stage and into buckets.

“Having any fun yet, Bakugou?” Denki practically yelled over the noise, leaning close to him and swaying drunkenly. Bakugou could smell the liquor emanating off his breath.

“Fuck no. Seems like Deku loves it, you really know ‘im.” He rolled his eyes, sipping his drink and Kaminari glanced over at a very uncomfortable looking Midoriya. Bakugou was about to add something snarky when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the next dancer walking along the stage.

You looked stunning in the outfit that you’d chosen for the night, baby blue with gold lace trims and diamond jewelry glittering around your neck and wrists, flashing under the lights. For a moment, everything else faded into the background, the way he’d only seen in bad movies he’d been forced to watch.

You gave him a sweet smile as you started your set, heavily aware of his crimson gaze that settled onto you as you danced. Usually that wouldn’t make you nervous, but this time it did, weighing heavily on your psyche.

His attention toward you didn’t go unnoticed by Denki, who raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously as he leaned forward on the stage, several bills gripped in his hand. Bakugou’s eyes raked across your frame, hypnotized by the way your hips swayed as you walked toward the two of them and he felt his mouth go completely dry. His cock twitched in his pants watching you lean over, breasts still caged by your bra, soft and alluring. Denki said something to you and he narrowed his eyes, watching him hand you a wad of cash and you giggled, a perfect, gentle sound that made his heart jump a little. You made eye contact for a moment as you nod at something the yellow haired man is telling you before he sits back down, leaning back into the chair with a drunken smirk.

“What did you do?” Bakugou growls, tightening his grip on the crystal in his hand.

Denki shrugged, holding his hands up by his head.

“I’unno what yer talkin’ about, Bakubro.”

“What the fuck d-“ he can’t even finish his sentence before the same brunette from earlier walked up behind Denki and grabbed his hand, helping him to his feet. He turned for a moment to shrug sheepishly at Bakugou before being led behind a curtained room, leaving Bakugou to fume as he finished the rest of his whiskey and flagged a waitress down to ask for more.

She took the orders for the rest of the group, his attention now returning to you, watching as you danced, elegant and sensual. The movements of your body drew him in, almost making his mouth water. Your gaze settled on him as the second song began, and you slowly slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders and he felt the heat in his cheeks begin to grow unbearable as he looked away.

“Don’t just stare, Bakugou!” Kiri called out “Give the girl her money.” He laughed as he tossed a handful of bills onto the stage. Bakugou swallowed thickly and leaned forward to set the money on the stage in a small stack, as you blew him a soft kiss and mouthed a ‘thank you’ at him, moving your hand from your lips and out in sign language for the phrase. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra and Bakugou revelled in the way your tits fell and bounced without the support, willing his cock not to harden as he shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

When he opened them again, the waitress was back, handing everyone their drinks, a sparkler lit in a bucket of ice next to a champagne bottle as she set it down next to the bachelor, Deku. Bakugou lifted his glass in a half-hearted cheers for his friend before returning it to his lips. He nearly spit it out when he noticed that you’d seated yourself next to him and he choked, coughing and sputtering into his arm.

Your eyes flew open in mild surprise and genuine concern, moving your hand to his back,

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to surprise you,” You laughed softly and it caused his stomach to twist in knots, shaking his head, shrugging as he wiped his face with a beverage napkin.

“I’m fine.” He snapped, a little more rudely than he intended and finished his drink in one large swallow.

You nod, brows still knit together as you watched him pensively.

“Um, your friend, Denki?” You try, a bit apprehensive and he rolled his eyes.

“He didn’t say anythin’ stupid did he?” His nose scrunched slightly as he studied you through narrowed eyes, alcohol making its way quickly through his system. You smiled, shaking your head and it made his face burn hotter, certain his face must be flushed an obscene shade of pink between how flustered you made him and the alcohol raging through his veins.

“Ah, no. He bought you a few dances with me in the back room.” You motioned toward the curtains.

His stomach dropped and his hand gripped the arm of the chair he’s sitting in tightly.

“Fuckin’ bastard.” He growls, low enough he’s sure you can’t hear.

“Did you want to go now?” You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him with wide, doe eyes, offering him your jewelled hand.

‘Fuck it,’ he thinks, standing and gripping your hand in his, marvelling at how much smaller and softer it feels against his. He watched your ass as you walked slightly ahead of him, leading him to the designated lap dance area and pushed aside the blue velvet curtain to reveal a plush couch and ornate side table. You motioned for him to have a seat, and he fell back into it rather unceremoniously.

His eyes glued to your frame, taking in your features in the low lights and how they illuminated the high points of your nose, cheekbones, brow bone. He almost wished he could paint, just so that he could have this image of you forever, a vision in lights of neon pink and blue.

You approached him slowly, sliding onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found their home on your waist, and he caught the scent of your perfumed hair, feeling dizzyingly high, heightening his drunken euphoria.

“You’re s’beautiful,” his speech slurred a little as he pushed some hair away from your face and you smiled, cupping his face gently with one hand.

“You’re pretty handsome yourself.” You murmur against his ear, adjusting your position so that you’re straddling him. He cleared his throat, hyper aware of the bulge in his pants as your ass brushes against his clothed thighs and your cleavage came tauntingly close to his face. It’s all he can do to hold himself back, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as his head empties of the blood rushing to his groin.

Slowly you roll your hips against him in time to the music, the intensity of your eye contact driving him into a frenzy.

“What’s your name…? I’on’t think I got it.” He seems almost shy and it endears him to you, to see a man so strong and powerful practically worshipping at your feet.

“Aria,” You tell him your stage name instead of your real one, and he narrows his eyes, knowing full well it isn’t real- but he doesn't press you for it.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, unable in his drunken state to stop himself from praising you. It wasn’t just your physical beauty he was drawn to, or your attentive, sweet demeanor. There was a sharp intelligence to you, something with your eyes- that intrigued him and made him want to pry you open and understand you, to know you better.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his hand up to your breast with the other, moving it against you, prompting him to massage it and he groaned.

“Fuck, I can’t do this.” He throws his head back and it hits the wall with a dull thunk and you jump, cradling his head for a moment,

“You alright?”

“Yeah, s’fine, don’t worry. I gotta- I gotta go.” He helps you off of him but pauses for a moment, reaching for a napkin and hastily scribbling his number down and handing it to you, coupled with a large tip, without looking you in the eye. “I don’ like places like this,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, “That’s f’you though, if you- y’get it,” He grumbled and tossed the curtain aside with a bit too much strength as the fabric billowed around you. “An’ don’ fuckin’ sell it!” he called angrily over his shoulder, which is hunched up as he waved a dismissive goodbye to his friends.

You stand, watching him go, still frozen in place as you held the napkin and the tip in your hand before you can shake the interaction off. It wasn’t unusual at all to get numbers from clients- hell, you’d had people full on propose to you a couple times, but something about this interaction felt different in a way you weren’t entirely sure how to describe. You shake the thoughts from your mind and crumple up the napkin before tossing it in the trash and shoving the bills into your bag.

You doubted you could make someone like Dynamite into a regular, especially with how eager he had seemed to get out of the club just now. And you didn’t date clients, especially not pro-hero clients. That was one lesson you had learned the hard way that you weren’t eager to repeat.

You heard Denki and Kirishima calling you as you made your way to the bar for some water and turned to smile at them, waving.

“He wasn’t awful was he?” Kiri pouts, looking at you with sweet almost puppy dog like eyes, swimming from the alcohol.

“Oh, not at all.” You dismiss their concern with a wave of your hand, “He just seemed a little drunk and overwhelmed.” You laughed a little and handed the bartender a few dollars for your water.

“Katsuki? Overwhelmed?” Denki raised a brow in confusion. “Guess he must like ya,”

“You got some kind of aphrodisiac quirk?” Kirishima jokes, laughing and thanking you for taking the time to spend with them. You assured them it was a great time before they’re being dragged away by the other dancers, shooting you dirty, possessive glances.

For the first time since you’d started this job, you feel your stomach twisting in nervous knots, thinking of the handsome man you’d just had in the back room. For a moment, you close your eyes, breathe deeply, and bury the feeling before turning to meet your next client.

————-

Bakugou awoke the next morning with a blistering headache, groaning loudly at the light that streamed in through the window and spilled onto his bed, sheets tousled carelessly.

“Fuck,” he grunted, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He turned one eye to his phone, lighting up on his nightstand, rubbing sleep from the other. Snatching the phone from its resting place, he quickly unlocked it and scanned the numerous messages that his friends had sent him through the course of the night after he had left.

Shittyhair: dude, you left out of nowhere, everything good?

Kaminari: broooo i paid for more songs than that, you owe me

Kaminari: and you should probably apologize bro, she looked real confused

Oh god.

He struggled to piece the night together, blurry memories of lights and dancers and alcohol. Then he recalled that he had met you, and he was pretty sure he had unceremoniously shoved his number at you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, louder this time as his head fell. “No more fuckin’ clubs.” He promised himself, no matter whose bachelor party it was.

And another thing that was for sure, was that he would never have one himself.

Still, for some reason he couldn’t shake the memory of you as he undressed for the shower. The ghost of your touch still lingering on his unwashed skin, the residual scent of your perfume on his clothes from the night before. He felt his cock twitch slightly at the memory of your legs spread over his lap, and his desire to lean down and run his tongue across your skin and taste you. He palms himself through his boxers for a moment, wondering what you’d feel like under him.

Shaking himself aggressively he turned the water on, eager to wash the events of the previous night from his mind.

How stupid could he be? Giving a random dancer his number like that? He figured he’d have to change his number, the same way Denki was onto his fourth one for the year as he had made a. habit of drunkenly giving his number out to women at bars and clubs. Jesus christ, he didn’t want the embarrassment of telling his agent why he’d have to change his number. Maybe he’d get lucky though, and you wouldn’t try to sell his number or maybe he’d written it down incorrectly- he was pretty drunk.

Maybe, though, you would text him. The thought made something stir deep in his chest as he scrubbed himself with body wash, wet hair sticking to his forehead in uneven spikes.

He would apologize to you though, he decided, and maybe try to mitigate any damage he had caused in the process. After he got off work, he would stop by the club to see if you were there again tonight if you still hadn’t texted him by then.

————

The end of the work day can’t come soon enough as he’s embroiled with petty crime, even getting bitten once by some low level villain with a poison quirk. It was more of an irritating itch than anything debilitating.

He wraps a bandage around it carefully, making eye contact with Kirishima as he rounds the corner to get ready for his own patrol.

“Bakugou!” He claps a hand against his back, “How ya feelin’?” He ignores the question,

“Do you know if uh, I could call that club to see if someone is workin’?” There’s a pained expression on his face. Kiri scratches his head briefly.

“Sounds like more of a question for Kaminari,” he laughs half-heartedly, “but I think generally, no? Crazy exes, stalkers and the like,” he adds as he catches a glimpse of the rising irritation in his friends eyes.

Bakugou feels his stomach lurch at the notion of stalkers. Did that happen often? He cursed under his breath and hoped you wouldn’t put him in the same category.

“Is this about that girl last night? Aria?”

“None of your business, shitty hair,” He growls, pulling his keys from his pocket and shoving past him.

“It’s fine dude, she was pretty, there’s no judgement-“

“It’s not fuckin’ like that,” he rounds on his friend, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Kirishima holds his hands up in front of himself,

“Alright, alright,” Bakugou relaxes and turns to leave again.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.” He grumbles, leaving the room with a slam of the door.

Bakugou’s still fuming as he gets into the driver's seat of his car and begins the twenty or so minute drive to the club. It looks strange in the dying light of the day, before all the neon lights had been turned on. It seemed out of place like this, as if it should only exist after the sun had gone down.

Shouldering his way through the doors, a girl at the front greets him with a smile.

“Good evening, Bakugou.” Of course she knew his name.

“I’m just here to see someone for a sec,” he glances around nervously, peering into the main room to see if you’re there. “Is Aria working?”

“Um, I don’t think so,” She scans the sign-in sheet at her podium. “It doesn’t look like it. She usually doesn’t work until Wednesday or Thursday,” He quirks an eyebrow at her, “She has school, I think? But she’s almost always here on Thursday.” She smiles up at him and he sighs, thanking her as he walks out of the door.

It was still only Sunday, and the anxiety eating away at his stomach would persist until then. He’d come on Wednesday, on the off chance you’d be back.

To his surprise (and though he wouldn’t admit it, his delight) you were in fact there when he returned late Wednesday night, still smelling like smoke and fire, walking briskly through the crowd.

You jump a little when you see him, heart pounding in your chest, taking you by surprise before youre able to pull yourself together for a smile,

“Bakugou!” You wave, “It’s nice to see you again.”

He wordlessly grabs your wrist and pulls you off to a quiet corner and sits at a table, pushing a chair out with his foot for you to join him.

“What’d you do with my number?”

No beating around the bush here.

“Oh, I uh, I threw it away. You were pretty drunk and I try to be respectful of people’s boundaries, yannow it’s just-“

“What?” His heart aches and his stomach drops and he’s not sure why. “Ya didn’… sell it or anythin’?” You shake your head. He scratches the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling, you awkwardly pick at your nails in the silence.

“It is nice to see you again, though,” You admit, and a warmth spreads through his chest. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, you left in such a hurry.”

“Ya didn’t text me.” He reminds you.

“You were drunk.”

“I’m not now.” You blush despite yourself.

“I don’t sleep with clients.”

“I didn’t say anythin’ about fuckin’.” His eyes narrow, vermillion eyes flickering like flames beneath the lights.

“I don’t… date clients. Or pro-heroes.” You add quickly.

He drums his fingers on the table top, eyeing you curiously. You suddenly seemed nervous and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything.

“Bad experience?”

“Something like that.” You play with a strand of your hair between your fingers.

“What if,” he breathes heavily through his nostrils and leans forward on his elbows, “Can I come see you here, then?”

“That’s fine.”

“Could you text me when you’re working? I don’t have all the free time in the world.” You laugh a little, relaxing and nod, giving him your number.

“Don’t spam me, and don’t get mad at me if I’m not always available,” you poke him in the chest playfully, “I’m pretty busy.”

“Door girl said you’re in school, hah?” He pushes your hand down, but rests it in his lap beneath his larger palm.

“Mhm.” You nod, feeling your mouth go dry at the subtle intimacy of his touch. “I’m a biomed major, so it can get intense sometimes.”

“D’ya ever get to relax?”

“Do you?”

He laughs, a rough and low sound that has your stomach doing flips.

“Fair enough, princess.” The pet name has your thighs clenching slightly, and you worry that your hand is shaking under his.

If he could give you time, provide a safe net for you to relax and study without working in this place, he would in a heartbeat.

————

Bakugou: workin tonight?

you: I am! :) I’ll be in by 8pm.

Bakugou: I’ll be there.

Bakugou: got something for ya

You: oh?

Bakugou: you’ll see when i get there

You: I can’t wait! <3

You set your phone down with a shaky breath as you got ready for the night. You never got nervous to see anyone at work, but even the sight of his name on your phone had your body trembling, and you wondered if this was sustainable.

It wasn’t good for you to keep a regular you might have feelings for, it complicated things and kept you from focusing in your day to day life.

For now, you’d let things continue to play out.

At work, you pulled off your street clothes and got ready for the night, lacing up thigh high boots with heels that made you a good seven inches taller. They were some of your favourites as they made pole tricks a bit easier, and you’d been working on a few new ones.

A couple other girls walked in, whispering behind you and shooting you some dirty looks.

Most of the girls were nice, but a few had developed some resentment toward you since you seemed to have the number four pro-hero wrapped around your finger. It didn’t bother you, usually. It was easy enough to brush off and there were plenty of other heroes with plenty of money that would come to spend their money on them.

Signing in at the front desk, you made your way to the bar.

“Could I get my shift drink, please?” You asked, hoping it would quell the nervousness in your chest. “Tequila soda?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She smiled as she poured you a hefty amount of liquor, tipping them well will do that. Bringing in a top ten hero would definitely do that.

You sit at the bar awhile, wincing at the bitter taste of liquor and shudder. Was there any soda in that?

You open your eyes wide to assess your level of intoxication, when you spot the large figure of Bakugou coming through the front door with a medium sized gift bag in hand. You stand up to hug around his neck and he bends down slightly, awkwardly wrapping one arm around your waist. You inhale deeply, drunk on his scent of burnt caramel and vanilla, the tinges of smoke and cinder.

He had to stop himself from kissing you on the cheek and cleared his throat, shoving the gift bag at you and averting his gaze.

“Here.”

You lead him again to the table that’s become your regular spot by now, haphazardly pulling out the box from within the bag. It’s black with a burnt orange ribbon, colors you recognize as being from his pro hero outfit, and you narrow your eyes at him quizzically.

He’s leaned over with his elbows on his knee, bouncing on the ball of his foot, impatiently waiting for you to open it.

Inside the box is a stunning set of lingerie in shades of black and shining rust colored lace, a dark green ribbon threaded through it, leading to a bow tied delicately in the middle. On the panties, the ribbon is on the back. There’s also a set of new heels inside in complementary colors.

“Oh, wow…” You breathe softly.

“D’ya like it?” one side of his nose is scrunched up, gaze half hidden behind spikes of messy blonde hair.

“Oh, I love it.” You ran your fingers along the sheer fabric. “Did you want me to put it on now?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He smirks, already imagining how you’d look. “Had it made special for ya.” Your face is burning, and your limbs are shaking as you pull yourself to standing to go and change,

“I’ll be right back,” you promise as you grab the lingerie and shoes before disappearing into the dressing room.

Bakugou sits back, ordering his regular drink and avoiding eye contact with the other dancers vying for his attention.

“Hey handsome,” a pretty red head he hasn’t seen before saunters up to him.

“I’m waitin’ for someone.” He sips his drink without looking at her. Her lips part to say something, but it’s interrupted by the harsh sound of his chair being pushed back over the tile floor as he stands up, awestruck as you walk out of the dressing room, peeking over at him from behind the curtain.

He takes a few long, purposeful strides toward you, pulling you into him, heavy palm on the small of your back.

“Ya look fuckin’ perfect,” his eyes search yours, flashing to your lips and imagining his pressed against their softness, the way the lingerie shapes your breasts into perfect mounds, the bow near your ass begging to be untied. “I wanna fuckin’ ruin you,” he growls against your ear, the heat of his breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh…” you can’t stop the soft, breathless moan and he feels himself getting hard, closing his eyes tightly. It was relentless, and pathetic just how often he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you now, at times unable to wait until he got home, fisting himself in the parking garage across the street.

He desperately wanted to meet you outside of here, to take you somewhere nice and get to know the real you. He wanted to give you everything, but he’d start small. He didn’t know how long it might take, but he had promised himself that he’d find a way through the emotional walls that you had built up, thick and seemingly impenetrable.

“Can I get a dance with you, princess?” He murmurs, lips a hair's breadth from the shell of your ear, you can feel him smirk when goosebumps dimple your flesh.

“Mmm,” You hum, leading him slowly to the back room so that he can watch the way your ass moves as you walk.

In the darkness of the back room, you turn to face him, raking your nails along the outside of his jeans and pressing him back into the couch by his shoulder. You sidle into his lap, and move the pull the straps off your shoulders but he stops you with a quick hand.

“Ya don’t have to do anything,” His crimson gaze is steady on you, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, “I just wanna be here with you.” He rasps, pulling you so close to him your noses brush against each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and hum contentedly, forgetting yourself and pressing a kiss against his jawline that makes him shudder.

“You’re too good to me, Bakugou,” you whisper against his ear, and he closes his eyes tightly.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he growls, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. There was a harsh pang in his chest at your insistence on using his last name, desperate to hear you breathlessly moaning ‘Katsuki’, and he swore to himself he would some day.

He revels in the way your fingers trail along his well muscled arm, stopping when they feel the broken skin of a new injury and your face twists into an expression of concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, s’fine,” He smirks, “I’m one of the best, princess.” Your smile is bittersweet.

“I know.” Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, “I worry about you sometimes, when I watch the news,” He raises an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m the one that should be worried about you, workin’ places like this.” You pull away slightly, tilting your head.

“It’s just a job.”

“Nah, not like that,” he shakes his head, holding your hands in one large palm. “Friend of mine mentioned stalkers, n I’ve met enough unsavory types to know what kinda people are out there.”

You nod, understanding.

“I’ve never had an issue with a stalker or a villain, but I did-“ you stop yourself, catching your words before the alcohol in your system let them go.

He pulls you closer to him by the curve of your hips.

“Y’can’t start somethin’ like that and not finish,” he warns, voice low. You worry your lower lip between your teeth, debating whether or not it would be too much to share. Your general role was to play therapist, entertainer, a momentary fantasy girlfriend. A modern day geisha.

You didn’t want to worry them with your own problems, which often seemed trivial in comparison to many of your clients.

“Hey,” he taps your forehead with a calloused finger, “what’s goin’ on in there, hah?”

You sigh, pressing your face into his neck, breathing lightly.

“It’s nothing, not really a big deal,”

”I’m sure I could handle it, then,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I uh, dated a pro-hero last year.”

“Somethin’ happen to ‘im?” He fidgets uncomfortably beneath you. You shake your head, staring at nothing in particular, anxiety rising in your chest.

“Just wasn’t a great guy.”

“That why you don’t date pro-heroes?” His eyes narrow, assessing your reactions.

“Well, that, and the whole constant worry about whether or not they’ll come home every night.” He says nothing. “Then the whole… job thing. It’s generally frowned upon to date guys from the club.” You add with a half hearted laugh.

“Didn’t stop you before,” he points out.

“Lesson learned,” your expression is solemn, and he sighs, pulling you into him tightly and wished he could let you know that he was different. That he wouldn’t hurt you, and he’d do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy. That he was one of the best fuckin’ pro heroes and he’d always come home to you.

Instead he just holds you against him, memorizing the curves of your body until it’s time for him to go.

You walk with him to the door, sharing one last hug before he squeezes your hand goodbye and leaves.

In the dressing room, you slowly remove your dance shoes with an exhale of relief. Another dancer you know as River rolls her eyes at you, glaring at the lingerie that you’re wearing.

“How’d you do it?” A slight sneer plays on her lips, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the lockers.

“Do what?” Your voice is laced with impatient agitation.

“You just really good at suckin’ dick?” You balk a little at this, mouth agape.

“I don’t fuck clients,” you snap, tossing your shoes into you bag.

“You fucked Shindou.” Her eyes exaggeratedly wide, cocking her head to the side. You hiss something through gritted teeth before averting your gaze and pulling on your street clothes.

“That was different.” You mutter, hints of shame weighing your voice down.

“Sure it was.” She rolls her eyes, standing up straighter. “Look, I don’t care what you do, but you’ve got a lot of girls in here pissed at you.”

“Sounds like a them problem.” You retort dryly.

“We’ll see.” She shrugs before leaving the room, and the rage that had been building in your chest unleashed itself as you slammed your fists down on the counter, breathing heavily. You wipe the tears from your eyes, checking yourself over before throwing your bag over your shoulder and heading home.

———-

The next couple days are busy ones for both you and Bakugou, him with hero work and you with school. He’s accepted the fact that you won’t text him unless it’s related to work, and he has to stop himself from asking you how you’re doing every few hours.

He worries about you when he doesn’t hear from you for a couple days, but it’s always just

Bakugou: working tonight?

You: no, I have some really important tests coming up.

He can’t help but wonder if you actually have a boyfriend that you keep secret from him and if that’s the real reason you won’t meet him outside of the club. Or why you’re opposed to phone calls, or even friendly conversation.

It didn't bother him too much, he liked to think of himself as a good judge of character and he’d seen your organic chemistry books and the massive amounts of anatomy and physiology notes you lug around with you in your bag.

What bothered him more than any of that was the thought that some other hero had beat him to you, and seemingly turned you off of them forever. It drove him almost crazy, wondering just what your type was and what they’d done to you.

If he’d had your actual name maybe he could have done some more snooping and figured it out, but he didn’t even have that. Tonight though, he had been pressured into going out to a quiet bar with his friends- he’d been spending more and more time away from them for reasons he kept to himself.

But tonight, at the bar, after a few beers he leans over to Kirishima, a thoughtful expression etched on his face.

“Hey, shittyhair,” he taps him lightly on the back of the head. “How well d’you know Aria? Said she dated a pro hero awhile ago,”

“Oh, is that where you’ve been?” He wore a shit eating grin on his face, “be careful with those girls, they’re masters at taking your money.” Bakugou scowled.

“Ain’t like that, fuck face. An’ that ain’t what I asked.”

Kirishima shrugged.

“I don’t know much about her, I’ve only met her a few times. She’s never mentioned that.” Bakugou grumbled, sitting back in his chair and sipping his beer. Kirishima signed, patting his friend on the shoulder lightly.

“I wouldn’t count too much on her, a lot of them are liars and-“

“Shut it, y’don’t know her. Only thing she’s lied about is her name.”

Kirishima treads carefully with his words, picking them out with discretion.

“In fairness, neither do you. I’m just lookin out for ya, bro.” He smiles, a pitying smile that makes anger boil in his chest. “But you could be right, it’s not like it’s never worked out for anyone before.” He shrugs, gulping from his own bottle hungrily. “If you really like her, it’s worth a shot.” He smiles again, genuinely this time, and Bakugou snorts, sipping his beer.

A few hours later, he’s drunkenly stumbling into his apartment, pulling off his shirt and collapsing back onto his bed, thinking of you. There’s no thought process as he pulls out his phone and begins to text you,

Bakugou: I miss you

Bakugou: Hope you're okay

When you don’t respond right away, apprehension nibbles at him and prods him to send another.

Bakugou: sorry for messaging, just had some drinks with friends and cant stop thinkin bout you

Bakugou: wish you coulda come with tonight, be better company than fuckin shitty hair

He palms the semi hard on he has in his boxers, a darkening spot where pre had begun to gather. Groaning, he pulled out his cock, wrapping a large hand around it, giving a few half hearted pumps and running his thumb along the tip spreading the pearlescent liquid, imagining that it’s you instead. He wondered if your hand would even be able to fit around his girth.

He wished he had pictures of you he could look at, but he didn’t even have that- just memories of you washed in the strobing neon lights of a dark club. The shine of your lipgloss and the smell of your hair haunted him, following him home on unwashed clothing. God, what he’d give to see that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around his cock, his hand pressing down on the back of your head as he thrust his hips up into your throat.

His hand moved quicker, filling the room with lewd sounds as a low moan ripped through his chest.

The ghost of your touch, the thought of your hips hovering over his as he pressed the fat tip of his cock into your tight entrance. Imagining the way your head would fall back in violent pleasure as he filled you completely.

Fuck, the way he wanted to hear you screaming his name, his first name, under him while his cock split you in two.

He reached his other hand down to grab at his balls as they tightened, nearing his orgasm, grunting, chest heaving as hot ropes of cum shot across his stomach, glistening globs of it clinging to the fine hairs scattered across his abdomen.

Collapsing in the twisted sheets, he waited for his breathing to even out before he grabbed a towel to clean himself off. There’s a soft light as his phone alerted him to a new message.

He hastily unlocked his phone, and saw that it was from you, your name at the top of the screen making his stomach churn.

You: Hey, Bakugou, sorry I’ve been so busy. I hope you had a good time with your friends!

He huffs, leaning back onto his headboard as he typed his response, closing one eye to focus his blurred vision on the bright screen,

Bakugou: would have been more fun with you

Another few minutes go by without a response. He taps the call button, trying his luck.

After a few more rings, he’s about to give up when the line clicks to life on the other side.

“Bakugou?” He hears your voice and his heart nearly skips a beat. His mouth goes dry as he attempts to swallow.

“S’right, I uh… wanted to hear from ya.” He curses himself, wishing he had something better to say. You giggle a little.

“Are you drunk?”

“…Maybe a little.” He admits.

“Mmm, I hope you got home safe.”

“You know I did, princess.” You smile on the other end of the line, pushing yourself back from your desk. There’s a few moments of silence before he blurts out, “D’ya not wanna see me cuz you got a boyfriend or somethin’?” He sits up, muscles tense as he waits for your response.

“Huh? No, I told you why, Bakugou.” He groans loudly, falling back on the mattress.

“Quit fuckin’ callin’ me that.” The whine in his voice is so unlike him, you laugh despite yourself.

“I’m just trying to be professional.”

“Fuck that,” he rasps, staring at the ceiling. It’s quiet again. “D’ya even like me?” Voice almost imperceptibly soft.

You’re quiet a little longer, unsure of how to answer. Of course you did, probably more than you should.

“I like you a lot, Bakugou.” You finally say, so quietly he almost can’t hear it.

“Who hurt you so bad you won’t even let me take you out for dinner?” His voice is a little more commanding this time, but not unkind.

“Maybe I’ll tell you eventually, it’s not that important.”

“It is to me, fucker’s not even around and he’s keepin’ me from the best thing that could happen to me,”

“I’m not that special,” Your voice is low, serious.

“You fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You have no fuckin’ clue what you do to me, and you better stop fuckin’ talkin’ like that about yourself.” His voice is almost a growl and it sends shivers through your body.

“Or what…?” You can’t help the tease that sneaks into your voice.

“Or I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.” He rasps.

Your fingers press against your clothed slit as it throbs with want. You try to play it off with a breathless laugh.

“Mmm that so?”

He hums lowly in response, and you can barely suppress a whimper building in your chest. You felt warmth spread from your center and ache for attention. Maybe after you hung up-

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

“Night princess.”

There’s another moment of silence between you two before you finally hang up.

——

It’s nearly noon before you wake up the next morning, you’d been up incredibly late working on a paper and your body ached from the prolonged period of time you’d spent in your desk chair, hunched over your laptop.

Out of habit you reach for your phone, expecting it to be devoid of messages, but there’s a notification from Bakugou.

Bakugou: morning, sorry for last night. I was a little tipsy.

You: It’s okay, it was good to hear from you.

You put your phone down to get ready for the day, run some errands before heading into work for the night.

By the time you’re stepping out of the shower, there’s another message waiting for you.

Bakugou: hope I can see you tonight.

You: I’ll be there at 8 :) looking forward to it.

Bakugou: better be.

You smiled, shaking your head and went about your day. It was getting harder and harder to push thoughts of Bakugou from your mind, and you hoped beyond hope that you wouldn’t have to cut him off as a client because of your feelings, but it was looking more possible by the day.

Your anxiety raged in your mind with everything that could go wrong, and that had already gone wrong. What would happen if you fell helplessly in love with him? How bad would it hurt when he inevitably found someone who could love him back in the way he wanted? You couldn’t in good conscience string him along knowing how he felt, and cursed yourself for caring about him.

That was the other thing- what about when he got hurt? What if something horrible happened to him? You couldn’t bear the thought of it.

By the time you’re switching over your laundry to the dryer, the doubts had only grown, festering in your chest until the butterflies in your stomach turned into a noxious pit.

This wasn’t good, you were already catching flak at work for your relationship with Bakugou, and the history with Shindou still haunted you. You still caught whispers and snarky comments for it here and there, a poltergeist you couldn’t sage.

Nobody really knew the full details of what had happened, of how he’d been to you behind closed walls and how he had made you out to be a gold digging villain. Nobody knew how he’d hurt you and take advantage of you after getting you too drunk. Those details were always left out, hidden, covered up.

You slammed the dryer shut in frustration, resolving to end your work relationship with Bakugou, despite the clawing at your heart that begged to get closer. Shoving the feelings away, you reminded yourself that the last time you’d let someone in, it had nearly destroyed you.

You hadn’t picked the broken pieces of yourself back up and fixed yourself for no reason. You still had too much to accomplish to let another cocky pro hero derail you again.

By the time you’d returned from the grocery store, you had resolved to have a talk with Bakugou and try to end things amicably, it wouldn’t bode well for you to make an enemy of someone in such a high place, it was already hard enough to wash yourself of the reputation Shindou had branded you with.

You pull your phone from your purse and press the call button by Bakugou’s name and it immediately goes to voicemail. Trying one more time, it ends after a few rings.

Bakugou: at work, I’ll call you when I can.

Bakugou: everything alright?

You: yeah, I’m fine, just needed to talk.

‘Shit’. You wanted to rip the bandaid off, not let it fester longer. But you were running out of time, and had to get ready for work.

Even after you got there, your nerves hadn’t settled and every person that walked in had you jumping slightly in your seat. It’s after midnight before Bakugou gets there, smelling heavily of gunpowder and sweat.

“Rough day..?” you hesitated.

“It wasn’t too bad,” he assures you with a lopsided smile. You nod.

“Bakugou, I uh-“ He senses the reticence in your tone.

“This about why you tried to call earlier?” He interrupts you, suddenly serious.

“Ah, yeah.” your voice wavered under her vermillion gaze. “Listen I uh, I like you,” he turned his body to square yours, narrowing his eyes as his brows knit together in full concentration, “Too much, and I think it’s probably best if you… stop coming to see me.” You finish your sentence in a rush, staring at the bar counter as your eyes begin to water and your throat tightens into a vice.

Bakugou feels like everything had just come crashing down around him, lightheaded and confused, aghast at your confession.

“This about last night?” His voice a low rasp.

“No, I mean, kinda… no.” You add with more conviction. “I just can’t afford to do this again.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” confusion evident on his face. “This about the asshole you used to date? Cuz I told you I ain’t like whoever that fuckin’ jackass was,” he grabs your wrists, pulling you closer.

“I-I just, it’s still a lot, people at work still give me a hard time and I just started getting clients back after he ruined my name and-“

“Who?” His voice is deadly serious, eyes smoldering, burning into yours as he gripped your chin with a calloused hand and forced you to look at him. “He hurt you?”

You swallow and it feels like sand.

“Who the fuck was it, Aria?” The stage name feels like a knife in your heart.

“I’m sure if you ask around you’ll hear plenty of stories…”

He breathes deeply, pulling you into his chest forcefully, hand on the back of your head, tucking it beneath his chin.

“I don’t care about anything those dicks have to say,” He assured you.

“Please, Bakugou… please go.” Tears stream from your eyes as you push him away from you, his face flashing through a mixture of pain, confusion, and anger. You wipe your eyes delicately so as not to ruin your makeup, resigned to finishing your shift heartbroken. “Go, before I ask the bouncers to do it.” Your voice wavers, betraying you. He snorts,

“Like to see them fuckin’ try.”

Your eyes plead with him, not to make this any harder and his expression frantically searches yours, trying to ascertain your level of conviction before you look away from him, eyes downcast.

He stands abruptly, angrily shoving his chair back into the bar so hard it cracks and several people turn to watch the spectacle.

He slams the door behind him, and you’re keenly aware of the glances and whispers thrown your way. Fixing your hair and pulling yourself up straight, you snap at them,

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Or is your life that fucking boring?” Snatching up your bag, you chug your glass of liquor and hide in the dressing room for a while.

———-

“What the fuck, Bakugou?” Kaminari shouts at him over the sound of a crashing wall. A blast from him had just caused it to collapse and several bricks had narrowly missed their heads.

“Keep up, and it won’t matter,” Bakugou snapped, taking off after the small group of villains they’d been pursuing. Mina managed to trap one of them, knocking him unconscious with a kick to the back of his head.

“Just because you have a death wish doesn’t mean we do,” She seethed at him.

Bakugou ignored her, promptly cornering the remaining two villains until a flash of ice swept in front of him, freezing them in place. His head whipped around to see the scowling face of Shouto before him.

“I didn’t need your fuckin’ help, half n half bastard,” He glowered, sparks snapping around him as he seethed.

“Could have fooled me.” His calm demeanor did nothing to assuage the blonde. “You’re lucky I was nearby before you did any more damage.”

“Fuck off.” He snarled, shoving past him.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki called over his shoulder, “whatever this is about, you need to get past it. This can’t keep happening.”

“Yeah? You’re not my fuckin’ boss, last I checked.” Shouto sighed, greeting the police as they rounded the corner and he briefed them on the situation.

Mina and Kaminari had managed to catch up, breathing heavily.

“Dude, he’s right, you’re gonna get hurt.” Denki tried to place a hand on Bakugou's arm before it was promptly shoved away.

“We’re all worried about you, you know?” Mina admitted, still angry, but trying adopt an air of sympathy.

“I’m fuckin’ fine.” He practically snarled, before turning his back to them and stalking off.

“He’s going to get hurt.” The voice of Shouto startled them from behind, where he watched Bakugou leaving, expression unreadable. He had been witness to Bakugou's growth over the years, and seeing this side of him brought him back to their first year at Yuuei, and it didn’t bode well in the world of pro hero work.

“He’s hurting pretty bad,” Denki tried to sound sympathetic, but the knot forming on his head made it a little difficult.

Shouto looked him over wordlessly,

“If he can’t keep it out of work, someone’s going to get hurt. More than a simple bruise.”

Denki sighed, shaking his head. They all knew he was right, just not how soon it would happen.

It’s only three days later when Bakugou is head to head with another villain, this one stronger than any that had popped up in Musutafu area in recent weeks, his quirk gave him some kind of gravity control on living beings, and several heroes had already fallen behind in the rubble.

Bakugou had blindly chased him onto the roof of a skyscraper, bloodied and battered. One of his grenade gauntlets had started to malfunction. He took a step to leap forward when his foot suddenly felt like lead, and he was crashing through floor after floor of the building, unable to catch himself or stop his descent.

His vision got blurry as he faded in and out of consciousness, the sound of voices, and sirens faded into the background. He remembered being put into a stretcher, and everything else after that was black.

For a week after, he was in and out of consciousness. Flashes of angry fluorescent lights and the shrill, steady beeping of machines. Compared to these, the darkness feels welcoming.

Several friends came to visit him, Deku spending nearly all of his free time by his bedside, hunched over with his head between his knees.

Sometimes Bakugou muttered something unintelligible, and it's another few days before anyone can make out what he’s saying.

“You gotta get through this,” Deku murmurs, “we’re all rooting for you.” It’s a heavy few minutes that pass, the ticking of a clock as loud as thunder in his ears. “You gotta get fitted for your suit for my wedding.” His eyes started to threaten tears as he took in a shaky breath.

Bakugou’s eyes opened, blearily taking in the room around him, groaning as he tried to sit up, a mess of tubes and wires taped to his body.

“Fuckin’ nerd.” He grunted, voice hoarse.

“Kaachan?” Izuku’s head snapped to attention, kneeling by his bedside.

“Aria, where is she?” Is all he can manage before pain wracked his body and he collapsed back onto the bed. “Where is she..?” He opened one eye to meet Deku’s, who looked at him with brows knit in confusion. He thought the name sounded familiar, but it had been so long since he’d heard it that he couldn’t place it.

“Aria?” He repeats.

“The girl from your bachelor party,” he coughs, gripping his ribs tightly. “Her number is in my phone.”

“Oh… your phone got destroyed in the accident.”

“Shit.” He hissed through a clenched jaw.

“I can send someone to go find her?” Izuku suggested lightly and Bakugou nodded, closing his eyes before he fell back asleep.

———

It had been over a month since you’d last heard from Bakugou, and it hurt. It was your decision, so you really had no right to complain and instead buried yourself in work and school.

Still, you often found yourself unblocking him on your phone after a few too many drinks, only to block him again when you woke up sober, checking to make sure you hadn’t sent any messages.

Some part of you hoped that he’d burst through the doors of the club to come see you, demand your attention and refuse to leave.

But he didn’t, and your pride would never allow you to ask him to come back, so you dealt with the dull ache living in your chest.

After a few weeks, you had accepted that he wasn’t coming back and that it was nothing but a beautiful memory, content to leave it at that. Or at least that’s what you’d been telling yourself.

It isn’t even nine o’ clock when a red headed hero you vaguely recognize comes bursting through the front doors, still in his hero costume. Several patrons and dancers turn and chatter quickly erupts between them.

He searched the room, and the moment he made eye contact with you he froze, and beelined for you. Your eyes widened, taking note of the pained expression on his face and a thousand thoughts crashed through your mind.

“Hey,” He pants, a little breathless.

“Hi? You’re uh, Bakugou’s-“

“His friend, yeah.” He nodded, speaking hurriedly. “Listen, Bakugou had an accident and he’s uh, he’s been asking for you. He’s okay right now!” He added quickly, catching notice of your expression. “He’s awake and everything now.”

“What happened?” Your heart felt like it stopped, or like it had dropped into your stomach, or like you were about to throw it up on the floor- or maybe all of them at the same time.

You listen to him recount the situation and move to grab your things, but he stops you, placing a calm hand on your arm.

“You can stop by tomorrow,” You look at him like he’s stupid, shaking your head.

“I’m going now.”

“You can’t, visiting hours are over.” He sighs, recognizing the indignance on your face. “Look, he’s probably sleeping by now. We would have called you earlier but nobody had your number or knew your real name so…”

“So you had to wait to come find me at work.” You finish his sentence for him, regret twisting in your stomach. He nodded.

“So, tomorrow? If you need a ride one of us can come get you.”

“I can just take the train.”

“If you insist,” He doesn’t try to force you, but gave you his number to text you the details of the hospital and left you there to marinate in your remorse.

———-

You didn’t sleep very well that night, if at all, but the second you’re awake, you’re rushing to get ready to leave, unbothered with makeup or getting your hair done. You threw a small bag together and headed out of the door to make your way to the train station.

Your gaze is listless and glassy as you stand, hand gripping the support on the train, dread in your stomach growing until it felt like you had swallowed stones that sat heavy in your stomach.

The walk up to the hospital felt like an endless journey ahead of you, the sidewalk seeming to morph and stretch and grow longer with each step until you’re at the doors of his hospital room, reaching a shaking hand forward to push it open.

When you finally entered, he’s there, sitting up on a pillow and reading a book, all bandages and casts and tubes and machines.

“Bakugou,” You gasped, gripping your bag tightly. He turned to face you, expression softening ever so slightly. You raced over to him, gripping his hand in yours until your knuckles went white. “How do you feel?” You felt hot tears falling down your cheeks and you sniffled, reaching forward to place a delicate hand to his cheek.

“I’m alright, princess. Told ya, one of the best.” He grimaces as pain shoots through his side, but makes every attempt to hide it from you. You have the grace to pretend not to notice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He shrugs.

“S’alright, glad you’re here now.” You attempt a smile through stifled sobs.

Wiping your tears, you grip the front of his hospital gown, trying to muster some kind of anger at him and failing.

“Why’d you have to go and do something so stupid?” Your laugh is choked with sorrow and it hurt him to hear it.

“Didn’t think you’d care so much, Aria.” He rumbled and laughed, raspy and comforting. The sound of your dancer name made you wince and you told him your real one. “Only gonna call you that if ya start calling me Katsuki.”

“Alright, Katsuki.” You nodded, promising him.

“Can I kiss you now?” He scrunches his nose, furrowing his brow and you giggle, leaning over him and for the first time your lips met.

His fingers card through your hair, pushing your head to the side to fit his lips against yours. Your lips move, softly and slowly against his, gripping the front of his shirt tightly.

He pressed himself more firmly against you, parting his mouth to swipe his tongue across your lips and beg for entry- and you let him in. His teeth graze against your bottom lip and a soft moan escaped you, and he smirks, swallowing it in his own open, hungry mouth.

It’s several minutes before you pull yourselves apart, lips bruised and swollen from the intensity of the kiss and you stroked his hair, admiring the shades of crimson in his gaze.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I missed you, too, Katsuki.” Your admission has you both reeling, you buried your face in his neck and breathed him in. The smell is familiar and makes you feel like you were home again, bittersweet nostalgia like heroin in your veins. “Sorry if I look awful, I didn’t really take the time to-“

“Shut up,” he swats your head, “You really think I give a shit about that?”

“Guess you’re not really in a position to judge.” You giggle and he rolls his eyes.

“Alright, smartass.” He took in your visage a moment more, hoping to himself that this wasn’t a dream and that you were really here, standing in front of him. Instead of pinching himself, he flicks you on the forehead, and regains some of his snark.

“Ow,” you rub your forehead.

“Ya gonna let me take you on a fuckin’ date now.” You give him a half smile, eyes glittering behind tears.

“If you get better, then I promise I will.”

“You got it, princess.” He smirks, before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

—————

His recovery isn’t fast, but it isn’t necessarily slow, either.

You tell him about your quirk for the first time and about why you had chosen your area of study. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious about it, and getting to know all the little things about you was something he cherished, even if he teased you for it.

You told him that you’d use it to help him, but that it was considered unethical until you had your license. He wouldn’t say it, but it was something he admired about you and reminded him of the days before he got his hero license.

Even if sometimes he wished you’d use it to ease his pain just a little bit.

“You’re a lot shorter without those heels,” he remarked, mussing your hair on the top of your head, swatting his hand away.

There were some things you still wouldn’t talk about, like family and your ex- that he was careful to tread lightly around. You’d tell him when you were ready, he assumed.

You often came around during his physical therapy sessions, conversation helping to keep his mind off of how hard it was for him at times.

“Bet you can’t cook for shit,” He taunted through painfully gritted teeth as he stretched his body, one arm over his head, torso twisted and elongated.

“I could cook circles around you.” You retorted, watching as his muscles twitched and relaxed with each stretch. He was fucking beautiful, and it made you long to run your fingers over the fine lines and veins on his body. You wanted to place loving kisses over each and every scar and wondered about the ones you couldn’t see.

“Guess you’ll have to come over and prove it, then.” He smirked, watching your cheeks turn pink and you shrugged shyly.

“Maybe I will.”

He was allowed to leave the hospital about a week later, and you were there to meet him as he finished packing his things.

“Hungry?” You asked, smoothing the sheets over the mattress he had slept on for so long, he dwarfed it by comparison and seeing him stand you realized how much larger than you he really was now that he was able to pull his powerful frame fully upright.

“Thought you said you were gonna cook for me?” He slips his bag over his shoulder, looking you up and down as you stammer for words.

You were excited, terrified, at the prospect of being alone with him in his house. He snorted, swatting you lightly on the side of your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time, idiot.” You blushed, as he took your hand in his and led you out the front doors of the hospital. Anxiety gripped your heart as you anticipated a swarm of paparazzi to be waiting outside, but there were none.

Katsuki watched you from the corner of his eye and snorted.

“Don’t wanna be seen with me?” His voice was light, and teasing but your expression darkened and he tilted his head as concern colored his gaze.

“It’s not that.” You didn’t want to explain to him about the ghosts in your past that could resurrect at any moment, that you worried the second they found out about your new life they’d come back to ruin your happiness again. You’d done your best to leave them behind, but the past was never quite dead.

“Hmm,” He hums, squeezing your hand tightly. His car had been dropped off for him and he unlocked it, letting you clamber inside.

“It feels strange to be in a car,” You murmur, running your hands along the fine leather seats.

“You took the train here every day?” He asked, mildly surprised.

“Mhmm.” You look out the window until you realize that he’s still staring at you. “What? There’s nothing wrong with public transport.” He shook his head as he started the car.

“Did you need to stop at the grocery store first?”

“No.” He scoffs, “I get them delivered.”

“Oh.” Your voice is soft and it dawns on you just how different his life was from yours.

“Did you need anythin’?”

“No, I’m alright.”

You finish the drive in relative silence, listening to the radio as it played quietly and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

When you pull up to the building you can’t help but gasp, mouth open slightly and he snickers, getting out and handing the valet his keys. It’s modern, and slightly grand and you feel a little out of place here, but he takes your hand in his again, rubbing small circles against your palm.

His apartment itself isn’t very opulent, minimal high quality furniture with subtle displays of wealth. Nice clothes, gaming systems, and a computer set up that looks like it must have cost a lot of money.

He tosses his bag down by the couch and pads softly into the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out various ingredients, pots and pans, and you seat yourself at the island.

“This is really nice.”

He shrugs.

“I get by.” You scoff, shaking your head and he smirks.

He begins prepping the food and you watch him, admiring the subtle ways he moves and the way his hair falls across his face. Your stomach twists and a feeling you can’t fully describe takes hold of you, something heavy and tangible in the air.

Being alone like this with him, the intimacy of domesticity was something you never thought you’d see from the pro hero, and it filled you with warmth.

The curry he’d made was already spicy, but you gaped at him as he added a significant amount more to his own.

“Jesus,” you breathed.

“Scared?” Your eyes narrow as you snatch the bottle from his hands and pour a hefty amount into your own and he laughs as your eyes water when you take a bite.

“S’good.” You manage and he nods.

“Better be.”

You help him do the dishes and dry your hands when you finish. He reaches up to a cabinet above the fridge and pulls down a bottle of expensive whiskey and two crystal glasses.

“A lot better than the shit you got at your club,”

You sip it, following him to the couch and sigh contentedly when he pulls you into his chest, warm and secure. You hum as you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering when he places a warm kiss against your jawline. You return the favor against the pulse point of his neck. You feel him hum beneath you, adjusting your body with his hands on your hips so that you’re facing him.

“You really are fuckin’ beautiful,” He murmurs, vermillion eyes holding you in place.

“You’re one to talk,” You mumble, watching as his chin tilts forward, he pushes the pleats of your skirt up over your hips and his hand draws back to land a harsh slap on your ass, pulling a strained whimper from you.

“What’d I say about talkin’ about yourself like that?”

Your eyes water as he slaps your ass again.

“I asked you a question, princess,” his voice is dripping with condescension and it makes your clit throb.

“S-sorry,”

“Sorry, what?” His hand lands against you again, pleasure blooming along side pain when his other hand pressed against your clothed slit, taunting you with light movements.

“Sorry, daddy?” You try, looking up at him for approval, eyes glittering with tears and a desire to please that leaves him breathless.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

“That’s right,” He rasps against your ear, moving his hand to press your hips down onto his half hard cock, rewarding you. You whine helplessly, grinding your hips against his, desperate for some kind of friction to quell the aching heat between your thighs.

He trails open mouthed kisses down your neck, biting at the sensitive spot near your collarbone, and you moan, fingers digging into his hair.

He holds you against him tightly, leaning you back, pressing himself on top of you, fingers finding their way to the hem of your shirt. He slips his hand underneath it, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe, light headed and unable to believe what was happening.

It felt unreal, to be here in his apartment, alone, and god he felt so good against you, his skin swelteringly hot and his weight was comforting as it pinned you in place.

You yelp a little as he shoves his hand under your bra, pinching your nipples lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of your neck. You reach your shaky hands down to pull your shirt off and he helps you pull it over your head, deft hands reaching behind you and unclasping your bra.

He doesn’t waste any time closing his mouth around one of your sensitive nipples, sucking and pulling it lightly with his teeth while his other hand roughly massaged your other neglected breast, thumb rubbing circles over its stiffening peak.

You tried to grind your bare sex needily against his thigh but he swiftly halted your movements with one powerful hand on your hips.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he released your nipple and you shuddered when the cool air met wet skin. He leaned back, getting to his knees on the floor as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, placing kisses on alternating thighs, tauntingly close to your aching heat. He pressed one finger against your underwear, savoring the way it gathered your slick and grew dark with your lust.

“So needy,” He teased, biting near the apex of your thighs, hands holding your thighs apart as they fought to close around him. He hummed against you, breathing in deeply and you felt your walls spasming around nothing. He removed your panties in one fluid motion, nuzzling his face against your warmth, tasting you with small, rough licks that had you mewling and your toes curling.

He pulled his face away, running his ring finger lightly along your folds, gathering the slick that had your thighs sticky.

“God, you really are a messy little slut,” He growled, parting you with his finger and circling your entrance.

“Please, Katsuki,” your voice broke as you tried to grind your hips against his finger and guide them where you really wanted them.

There’s another sting as he slaps his hand against the side of your ass.

“Is that what you call me?”

“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling tears well in your eyes, “Please, daddy, I need you,”

“Need me, hah?”

He growled lowly, slowly slipping his finger into you and watched as your face contorted with pleasure, working you open slowly.

He joins it with another thick finger, scissoring them with agonizing slowness and dexterous fingers.

“Oh shit…”

Your whole body tensed when he licked a long, flat line up your slit, circling your sensitive mound and sucking on it softly, your nails raking against the fabric of the couch.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” You whined, back arching and he hums against you, curling his fingers against that soft, spongey spot inside you that had you moaning an equal song of curses and praise, that made you abandon all sense and coherent speech.

His fingers picked up the pace and you felt the hot coil in your stomach tightening.

He watched you come undone, crimson eyes locking with yours, intent on bringing you over the edge.

“Daddy, please, I can’t- can I cum, please please please…” You whine, struggling to breathe, eyes rolling back into your head as he sucked harder on your clit, tongue moving expertly against it with a ravenous urgency. He hums his permission and after a few more harsh curls of his fingers he feels the tight walls of your cunt begin to flutter around them and you keen loudly, grinding your hips helplessly against his face as he helped you ride out the harsh waves of your orgasm.

He pulled away from you as you caught your breath, a darkening spot on his pants where pre had soaked through. He pulled you close to him, kissing you with more tenderness and care than you anticipated, tasting yourself on his lips. You take his fingers in his hands and suck on the softly, tongue swirling around them and closing your eyes.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He mumbled, picking you up in his arms and resuming the kiss as he carried you to the bedroom. He lay you down and your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle while he ripped his shirt off over his head. He stood before you now completely naked, all muscle and skin and sweat. Your breath caught in your throat and you moaned softly,

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, trailing your fingers down the sparse hairs of his stomach to where his cock sat, thick and long and curved delicately upward, making your mouth water to taste him- and you do.

You trail the tip of your tongue from his balls down the underside along the veins, leading to the pink mushroomed tip, slipping it behind your lips and humming as he threw his head back with a groan.

He placed a rough palm against the back of your head as you took more of him, eyes watering when it hit the back of your throat. He pulled himself out before thrusting back in, holding your head with both hands as he fucked your mouth at a heavy pace.

“Shit, fuck, fuck,” He grunted, watching you, glassy eyed as you obediently sucked his cock, “Good fuckin’ girl,” he pants, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust. Your lungs are burning for air when he finally pulls himself away, cock thick and throbbing. He pumps his cock a few times, motioning with his chin, “Turn over,” and you do, ass in the air, waiting for him.

You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he settles behind you. The sensation of his cock pressing against your slit has you pushing back against him, but he doesn’t give you any relief.

“Such an impatient little slut,” he coos, voice dripping with condescension as he ruts the length of his cock along your slit, spreading your slick. “God you really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He rasped, leaning his body over yours and you groaned.

“Please daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” You pressed your burning face into the pillows beneath you and he laughed cruelly.

“Poor little princess,” He ruts against you again, the head of his cock catching on your little bundle of nerves, sending jolts through your body. “How bad do you want me, hmm?” His voice lilts, taunting you.

“S-so bad, daddy, please… I’ll do anything.” Your eyes are watering now, driven mad by the anticipation building again in your body, impetuous hips pressing back against his length.

“Think you can take it, princess?” He practically spits the last word at you.

“Know I can,” you screw your eyes shut, gripping the sheets tightly. That answer seems to satisfy him, as he lines himself up with you aching center, slowly pushing the fat head of his cock inside you, reveling in the way your breath hitches and your body tenses up around him. He pulls away slightly before giving shallow, deliberate thrusts into your taut muscles.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, angel,” His voice is strained, “Chokin’ my fuckin’ cock with your perfect little cunt, takin‘ me so well,” You whimper, adjusting to the stretch as he manages to bury himself into you entirely, stilling his movements for a moment. His cock is heavy, and you feel so fucking full, brain devoid of any thoughts that aren’t Katsuki.

He pulls back, feeling the way your silky walls try to suck him back into you, thrusting forward and pulling your hips back in time with his movements and you keen loudly as his cock presses against your cervix.

He sets a moderate pace, eyes half lidded as he watches you writhe beneath him, babbling incoherently.

“F-feels, feels so so good, daddy,” you whine pathetically.

“Y-yeah, baby, fuckin’, fuckin’ know it does,” He pants as he picks up the pace slightly, cock dragging along your walls, a white ring of cream building in his coarse hair. He fucked you forecully, hips snapping into yours as he held you up against him, pulling your back flush with his. He slows his pace, roughly massaging your breasts as he moves languidly in and out of you, leaving just the tip of his cock buried each time before canting his hips forward again.

“Oh, f-fuck,” The pleasure was unimaginable, and when he pressed a heavy palm against your abdomen you felt your body begin to shake. He brushed a rough thumb over your clit and you moaned, high pitched and breathy,

“Too much, daddy, I-I s’too much, please,” Tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as he bit down on your shoulder, pain blurring with pleasure.

“Such a good little slut for me,” He mumbles against your throat before pulling out of you and flipping you onto your back, setting himself between your folds, forcing your legs up onto his shoulders. He doesn’t wait to shove his cock back into you, and a scream dies in your throat as he fucks the air from your lungs and the only sounds are skin slapping against skin.

“Made to take my cock,” he breathed against your ear.

He pressed his weight down onto you, breath coming in ragged pants as sweat coated his brow from the effort of his movements.

“God, fuckin tight little cunt, feel s’fuckin’ good,” The filth falling from his lips made your body burn.

“D-don’t stop, daddy, please don’t stop,” Your breasts bounced from the ferocity of his thrusts, bed frame slamming against the wall.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ stop, never wanna leave your fuckin’ cunt,” he grunted, feeling his own orgasm draw dangerously near, “Fuck you into the shape of my cock, my good girl.” He emphasized the possessive, pressed every inch of himself into you with deliberate thrusts, abdomen brushing against your clit and any thought that wasn’t him was gone from your mind- all you could manage was a string of

“Daddy, daddy, please, fuck me,”

“Gonna fuckin’ cum on daddy’s cock?” He rasped, gripping your hair in his fist, pulling back on it roughly when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Wanna cum again, you greedy thing?” All you could manage was a choked sob and nodded in response as he fucked you into the mattress. “Cum on my fuckin’ cock, then, come on,” His thrusts were becoming erratic as he got impossibly hard inside of you and you reached shaking fingers down to rub messy circles against your swollen clit.

You keened loudly as your orgasm ripped through you and you dug little half moons into his back with your nails, sobbing as the waves of pleasure washed through your body and he fucked you through your second orgasm. You’re still dizzy, vision blurred from the mixture of tears and pleasure as his muscles tensed. He moved to pull out but you tightened your legs around him,

“Katsuki, please, cum in me,” His expression darkened, eyes a conflagration of lust hearing his name, a breathy moan on your lips.

“Want me to breed your slutty little cunt?” He groaned loudly, and it made you ache and throb around him, “Dirty fuckin’ slut wants me to breed her, hah? That what you want?” There’s an urgency to his movements now, his desire to mark you as his, overrides every other thought and it’s enough to send him over the edge as he spilled inside you with a low growl, movements slowing into deep, purposeful thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into your sex.

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” he breathed, and you stiffened a little, caught slightly off gaurd. Was it just the haze of sex, the post orgasm dizziness that made him say… that?

He lay on top of you, both of you panting and struggling to catch your breath, placing hot, wet kisses against each other's bodies. His lips crashed heavily against yours, teeth clicking and noses pressed roughly together. He pulled away and your heart ached at the lack of contact as he pulled his softening cock from you with a lewd squelch.

“Katsuki?” You murmured, just barely a whisper.

“Hmm?” He stood, grabbing a towel to clean the both of you off.

“Did you mean it?” He studied your pensive expression.

“That I love you?”

“Mhm.” He closed the distance between you, taking your jaw in his hands and forced you to meet his gaze, hot coals glowing with emotion.

“Yeah, I’m in love with ya,” He says, sincerely.

“I… I love you, too, Katsuki.”

He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, before tapping your ass lightly and pulling away, holding your hand in his.

“Let’s take a shower, you’re all fuckin’ sticky.”

———————-

There’s a few days where you’re blissfully, indescribably happy. There really isn’t much that could be done to ruin your mood. You went through the day, feeling light and as if the ground beneath you were made of clouds.

But of course, it can’t last.

Of course, the past you’d been running from would catch up to you as soon as you’d stopped to appreciate the life you’d built around you.

It’s a simple text message from an unknown number that reads,

Unknown: does your new boy toy know about us? does he know what a slut you are?

Unknown: maybe he should get a look at the videos I have.

Your heart sinks, and you quickly delete and block the number, hands shaking.

It’s nothing, can’t mean anything, it’s just someone messing with you, certainly.

It isn’t until you’re checking out of a grocery store when a magazine cover catches your eye, and you freeze, squinting at the pictures plastered across the front.

They’re of you and Katsuki, walking out of the hospital, and another of the two of you walking into his apartment building.

Your mouth goes dry as you pick it up with shaking hands.

The cashier waves, calling you forward, and you put it back, hiding it behind a different magazine.

“Oh, sorry,” you fumble with your wallet as you pay and grab your bags, rushing out of the store.

‘This can’t be happening.’ You wanted to cry, to throw something, to disappear into the earth.

None of which happened, and you were still standing outside, mind reeling as a storm slowly began to roll in.

[bellesowl]

kiss and make up

- multiple characters 

⤷ atsumu, sakusa

genre: (an attempt at) angst to fluff ; established relationship, timeskip 

synopsis: in which you have an almost relationship-ending argument

word count: 2.1k total - about 1k each

warnings: fighting (obv), being called a burden, the boys are kinda mean but they make up for it i swear

- a/n: tbh i was kinda getting sick of writing just fluff so i wanted to spice it up a lil! if this sucks i’m probably going to stick to fluff fics but i think it should be fine? this one also only has 2 characs cause idk how i would be at writing angst LMAO if this does well enough i’ll post the one i have written w kuroo and iwa <3 but i feel like this kinda sucks so oh well

- thank u @kybabi for beta-ing <3

- miya atsumu

you n atsumu have been together since high school which is why you’ve always been inseparable

you went to the same college & moved in together right after, but once he got his job with the jackals, he insisted that you didn’t work and focused on getting your master’s degree

you reluctantly agreed, if only to be able finish & earn your phd soon after

because atsumu is always busy, it’s kinda become commonplace for you to do the chores around the house- like doing the laundry or washing the dishes or cooking dinner for him

but it’s gotten to the point where he expects it

atsumu sighs, unlocking the door to your shared apartment. today’s practice was rough, it was a day of hard conditioning and bad sets and he wanted nothing more than a good meal and to cuddle. the first thing he noticed when he walked in was the mess. instant ramen bowls were scattered everywhere, empty coke cans and dirty napkins were all over the floor, and there you were, in the eye of the hurricane. the second thing he noticed was that there was no homecooked meal.

surprised, he walks into the dining room to see you, furiously typing away at your laptop with four different books surrounding you. you hear his footsteps and look up.

“hey baby! how was practice?” you ask with a smile

atsumu grunts in reply and gestures toward the kitchen, “so.. what’s for dinner babe?”

your eyes widen, “oh shoot! i’m sorry, i was so busy studying for this final that i forgot to cook. do you mind-“ you stop when you see him roll his eyes and head out.

“um, where are you going? you just got home?” you ask, following him.

“out. i have to get food somehow” he replies, “especially because my useless s/o can’t cook a goddamn meal for me” he mutters under his breath

you stop in shock because did he really just say that?

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard you right.” you start but he interrupts you

“i said, i have to go get food because someone is too busy to cook a goddamn meal. what do you even do anyways- well, besides spend my money? the least you can do is cook for me, god.” he finally turns to look at you but he feels his heart stop at the look on your face.

not wanting to escalate the situation any further, you try to calm him down, “tsum, hey, i’m sorry i forgot to cook okay? this is my last final before the year ends and i just can’t afford to fail it, so i’ve been studying all day. if you come back to the kitchen, i’ll make you something, okay?”

“i don’t want to eat your half assed attempt at a meal, y/n. the whole point is that you couldn’t get off your ass for an hour to cook when i make the money, i paid for the apartment, hell, i’m even paying for your school! is it really too much to ask for you to stop being such a burden and cook and clean everyday?” he fumed.

you gape at him, shocked that he would even say that. to hell with not escalating things

“at least i want to do something more with my life than hit balls around and retire at 35” you hiss, “and i do everything in this house! i do the laundry, i clean the bathroom, i cook - i do all the things you refuse to. and do i complain? no. i offered to get a job but you refused.”

you turn around to grab your laptop and your textbooks, “just- just do whatever the hell you want to, atsumu.” and with that you walk out the door.

atsumu’s heart drops when he realizes that you actually left. sure, you’ve had arguments here and there, but you’ve never left. he pulls out his phone to call you when he sees you’ve left yours on the counter. knowing there’s nothing to do but wait at this point, he begins to clean up and calls osamu over.

-

it’s already 3 am when you walk back into your apartment, and you blink multiple times when you open the door. it’s ... clean? you’re sure it was a mess when you left, so how would it be clean? you sigh, too tired to think about it more and walk into the kitchen. your eyes widen at the sight. not only is your favorite food on the stove, but there your boyfriend is, asleep on the dining table. you smile slightly, well that explains things.

“ ‘’mu, hey, wake up babe.” you kiss him lightly and shake him.

he grunts and sits up, “baby! i’m so so sorry for what i said. you are in no way, shape, or form a burden, i have no clue why i said that. today’s practice was just really tiring, but i know i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. just please-” he sighs, “just please don’t leave me again.”

your heart breaks your teary eyed boyfriend. “shh, of course baby. i’ll never leave you again okay?” you say, tugging on his arm, “cmon babe, let’s go to bed, okay?”

“mm okay my love.” he replies and practically pulls you into bed. “i love you, okay?”

“i love you too baby.” you reply

“to the moon and back?” he asks

“yeah, and to infinity and beyond.” you reply, your lack of sleep hitting you hard

“oh, i didn’t know i was dating buzz lightyear”

you let out a loud laugh and just like that you both fall into the same routine, love radiating off both of you in waves.

- sakusa kiyoomi

dating sakusa was,, challenging

it definitely took him a while to get comfortable with you

so you guys have been dating for a couple years now, and at this point he’s def clingy

however there still moments when he reverts to his old self

this just happened to be one of those times

“OUT! AND JUST LIKE THAT, EJP RAIJIN TAKES THE WIN AGAINST THE BLACK JACKALS!”

the stadium is silent before the ejp cheering section erupts in cheers. you stay silent, watching your team below. you watch as sakusa stills, still in disbelief. you make your way down, practically sprinting to your boyfriend.

he sees you on the sideline and makes his way over to you. you put on your biggest smile and attempt to make him feel better.

“you did great, kiyo! you’ll get them next time, yeah?” you beam, knowing how hard he’s been training to beat his cousin

he eyes you warily, not knowing what to say.

usually, sakusa gets pretty clingy after games, so you you move to give him a hug.

“don’t touch me” he barked, jerking away from you. “if you hadn’t been distracting me, we would’ve won.”

you stare at him, refusing to let the tears flow. you both turn when you hear a certain setter yelling at the opposing middle and you sigh.

“um, okay then. i’ll see you at home, yeah?” you ask

sakusa merely nods and makes his way over to his teammates. you look around to see if anyone saw what just happened and you lock eyes with your boyfriend’s cousin, who walks over.

“congrats on the win komori! you guys did so well!” you cheered

“thanks, y/n! and i’m sorry about kiyoomi. i’m sure you know he gets that way sometimes.” he explains

you smile and shake your head, saying that you’re used to it and you both bid your farewells. as you walk out of the stadium, you think back to how your boyfriend, the one person you loved with everything you had in you, utterly embarrassed you in front of his whole team. before you know it, silent tears start streaming down your face. 

you enter your home and immediately rush to the bathroom. you draw yourself a bath and make some dinner while waiting. you assume that kiyoomi wouldn’t be home to have dinner with you anyways- and now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had dinner together. after you finish your bath and eat your dinner, you decide to wait up for boyfriend and watch a couple episodes of your favorite show to pass the time. 

-

kiyoomi walks into his apartment at around 1 am, completely and utterly exhausted. he kicks his shoes off and drops his bag on the floor. The rustling rouses you from sleep and you sit up.

“hey kiyo” you say with a yawn, “where’ve you been all night?” 

sakusa ignores you in favor of getting ready for bed and you frown when he brushes past you. 

“kiyo, babe, what’s wrong? you’ve been ignoring me all night and i-” you start but he interrupts you before you can finish. 

“god, just shut up, y/n. can’t you tell i don’t want to talk to you right now? i’ve already had the worst day, i don’t need you making it any worse.” he snaps

"kiyoomi, look, i understand you’re upset but you shouldn’t take it out on me.” you reason, reaching out towards him, “listen, i’m here if you wanna-” 

“i said, do not touch me.” he seethes. “you are so fucking clingy y/n, lord, let me breathe a little.”

with those words, you explode. “you know what, sakusa,” he flinches when he hears his last name come out of your mouth, “i think i have the right to want to spend some time with my boyfriend! i haven’t seen you in god knows how long- you leave before i wake up and i fall asleep in an empty bed. i’ve been working my ass off to get some time off to watch your stupid volleyball game and what do you do? you embarrass me in front of your whole team!”

you sigh, wiping away the tears that continue that continue to fall. “listen, i don’t want to fight right now. i’m going to go stay at a friend’s house for the night, alright? i’ll see you tomorrow” you say, grabbing your purse. “if you’re even home tomorrow,” you add under your breath.

sakusa is in shock. the moment he saw your tears start to spill, he felt an undeniable and unrelenting ache in his chest that only seemed to grow with every work that came out of your mouth. and when the door shut? sakusa fell on his knees, his heart dropping. he truly couldn’t believe he said that to you. now all he had to do was wait till you got home.

-

2:38 pm - you check the time on your phone before pulling out your keys. you hope you made the right move, choosing to come back home while kiyoomi was still at practice. you open the door and the sight causes your eyes to widen.

there, on the couch with your favorite flowers in hand, is your boyfriend. he hears the door open and stands up abruptly.

“y/n, my love, i am so sorry. i truly cannot express how horrible i feel, and i cannot begin to understand how you feel.” he takes a deep breath, seemingly holding back tears. “i- i do love you. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. i know i’m not the best at expressing it, but you mean the world to me- no, you are my world. without you, i don’t know what i would do. so please-” his voice cracks, “just, please give me another chance?”

you run towards your boyfriend, practically tackling him. “kiyo, baby, of course. i love you too, you know? you just can’t do that anymore, yeah? you shouldn’t feel like you have the right to embarrass me just because you had a bad day. and please, don’t call me clingy? i know i do stick to you like glue sometimes, but that’s just because i never see you anymore.” you reply.

“that will all change, darling.” he answers sincerely, “i’ll make more time for you, i swear. in fact, i’ll take the week off, how does that sound?” at the sight of your smile, he relaxes.

“that sounds wonderful, yoomi.” you answer

sakusa feels the weight that’s been dragging him down lift and he realizes the effect you have on him- you’re his breath of fresh air. he also realizes how utterly idiotic it was to push away the one person who could make him feel better.

it’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just never make that mistake again. he swears it.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Weighted Blanket

I blame the Bog for enabling me here. This got out of hand. It was just gonna be a cute little drabble I swear yall. But the feels took over? I want a Geralt for myself? Preferably the fanon himbo variety? Idk fam, ya get what ya get today.

Warnings: anxiety/anxiety attack (not panic attack), new established relationship, Jask feels like he has to hide his anxiety from people, Geralt being a soft ass himbo, someone plz find me one? plz?

_______________

Jaskier had spent the night at Geralt’s a few times and he was always incredibly nervous until Geralt opened the door. He adjusted his backpack strap and tapped his foot on the concrete porch and felt a little bit like a child at a playdate. He was a grown ass man. This wasn’t that big of a deal. At least that's what he told himself while he waited for Geralt to scramble out of whatever pretzel yoga pose he was undoubtedly in. Jaskier was all for taking care of himself, he just preferred the ‘extra whip and a pedicure’ style rather than ‘whole foods and regular exercise’ route. He was worried Geralt would try to get him to go to the gym and drink kale but he seemed perfectly content to let Jaskier do what works for him. 

When Geralt opened the door he had a goofy grin and his hair in a sweaty floppy bun, “You’re early,” he said it like it was a treat every time, regardless of how early Jaskier really was. Be it fifteen minutes or an hour and a half, he always looked like an excited puppy and it set Jaskier at ease. 

But today he didn’t feel the tightness in his chest melt away when Geralt smiled at him. Not when he pulled him into a hug before he could utter his greeting. Not even when Geralt kissed the top of his head and rubbed his arms vigorously to warm him up because, “I know you have a sweatshirt in your backpack.”

Jaskier shrugged and leaned into his chest, “I kinda forgot.”

“You weren’t cold?”

“Well now that you mention it....” Jaskier forced a playful tone and got two handfuls of Geralt’s ass, that wonderful, perky ass. And it did absolutely nothing to him. 

Geralt frowned and tilted his head, brushing the damp hair out of jaskier’s eyes, “I was gonna invite you to shower. But you don’t sound excited.”

Jaskier sighed and gave him a weak smile, “I want to be excited.”

Geralt just tilted his head the other direction and tightened his grip on Jaskier’s shoulders and oh wasn’t that nice. That eased the ache a little bit. 

“I’m just a little anxious from work,” Jaskier assured him, patting his hands over Geralt’s perky asscheeks, “Go shower. I’ll be good by the time you’re done.” 

“Are you sure?” Geralt slouched just a bit to draw Jaskier’s eyes to his, “Come with? I’ll wash your hair?” 

Jaskier shook his head with a little smile, “Tempting. But I’ll drink some tea under my blanket then we can enjoy our evening.” 

Geralt kissed his forehead and gave him a quick but firm hug before darting down the hallway to rush through his shower. Jaskier measured his breathing as he made tea, now fairly familiar with Geralt’s kitchen, and settled down on the couch to dig through his backpack for his weighted blanket. 

Only it wasn’t there. His backpack had felt light when he left but it was just such a hectic day and he’d just wanted to see Geralt so bad. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, seeing his hands start to shake as he rezipped his pack, “It’s just a little anxiety Jask. It’s fine. You are fine. It isn’t the end of the world. It will pass. It’s just because that asshole yelled at you, not anything to do with Geralt. You two are fine, good even…” 

He sat back on the couch and pulled his knees into his chest, clutching at the mug of too-hot tea to keep his hands from shaking. Every few seconds he remembered he had to breathe, and do so slowly, if he wanted to get through this feeling and he would gasp a little bit with the realization he hadn’t been. He whispered his logical thoughts he’d prepared for this. The spiral would get a little momentum and he’d count his breaths and repeat his prepared sentences and he’d feel it receding but that was as much momentum as he could get. 

As soon as he started to calm down, he’d think about Geralt coming out of his shower to see him like this and it would start up again. He’d managed to keep his anxiety under control in front of Geralt so well. Geralt was so calm and steady and gentle that Jaskier hadn’t had to try so hard to begin with. But now his crazy was all out on the table and he wasn’t quite mentally prepared to be thrown out of Geralt’s house. 

In the middle of repeating one of his calming thoughts, he heard Geralt pad around the couch and felt more than saw him sit down.

“Jask?” Geralt’s voice didn’t quite sound real, but it was still soft and gentle enough not to spike his anxiety any worse, “You okay?”

He just shook his head and forced himself to exhale slowly. 

“What’s wrong?”

Jaskier swallowed hard and whispered with more effort than he’d like to admit, “Just an anxiety attack. I… I forgot my weighted blanket.” 

Gods did that feel horrible. Admitting to your hot new boyfriend that you have a security blanket at 30 and it sends you into an anxiety attack when you leave it at home wasn’t really on his to do list, but here he fucking was. 

Geralt gripped the tea mug by the rim and took the now lukewarm tea before his shaking hands spilled it all over his knees, “What do you need?”

Jaskier felt tears brimming behind his eyes and squeezed them shut, “Wh- what?”

“What do you need? To help you.”

“Oh,” Jaskier opened his eyes and tears fell down his cheeks, “No one’s ever asked me that before...”

Geralt took a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling and offering his hand to Jask, palm up, “Can we try something that helps my brother?”

Jaskier nodded, he didn’t even care what it was, he was too shocked by the realization that Geralt wasn’t scared off or disgusted with him. 

“Your weighted blanket helps, right?”

Jaskier nodded and set a trembling hand in Geralt’s palm, swiping at his face with the other. 

“Can I hold you? See if that helps?” 

Jaskier nodded again and uncurled from his ball a little bit so Geralt could pull his legs over his lap and wrap his arms around Jaskier’s body. He squeezed a little tighter than his usual hugs but the pressure was just barely registered with the way Jaskier’s body was in overdrive. Regardless, he burrowed into Geralt’s shoulder, partly to hide his tears and partly because it felt safe. 

“How’s this? Are you okay?”

Jaskier nodded, “Can you squeeze tighter?”

“How about we lay down?” 

“Lay down?” Jaskier’s voice cracked on his words but he barely even noticed. 

Geralt rested one large hand over his soft brown hair, “I could be your weighted blanket? It works for Skel sometimes.”

“Yeah- yeah, okay,” Jaskier muttered as he forced his creaking knees to straighten as Geralt laid him back onto the couch. Geralt positioned them so he was laying on his side against the back of the couch and Jaskier was on his back in front of them. He laid his head on Jaskier’s shoulder and half draped his body over him, just testing the waters. 

That alone was nice, but the little bit of relief only made Jaskier crave more. He tugged at Geralt’s elbow, not really pulling but guiding him to completely cover him. That was perfect. Jaskier could think a little clearer after a few seconds, then he could feel his limbs again and hummed happily. 

“Good?” Geralt’s hopeful smile beaming up at him from where he was resting his chin on Jaskier’s sternum was bright enough to end wars. 

“Very.”

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed, that soft little smile still on his face. Jaskier took a deep breath and basked in the way Geralt’s torso pinned him to the cushions. His thighs were pressed over his legs and pleasantly heavy and the way he’d cushioned his chin with his hands meant Geralt’s lovely, squishy, heavy arms were keeping his shoulders down. 

After a few minutes Jaskier felt the post-anxiety exhaustion hit that let him know it was really over, but he didn’t want to move. Instead he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s ribs and laced his fingers together over his spine. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes closed with a tired smile, “You’re the best weighted blanket I’ve ever used.” 

“Anytime,” Geralt’s voice reverberated through Jaskier’s body in the most soothing way, deep and strong but gentle as well, “I mean it. You don’t need to hide this from me. I want to help.”

Jaskier giggled, “Oh don’t tell me that.”

One of Geralt’s hands floated up to trace Jaskier’s jaw and the high points of his cheekbones, “Why not?” 

“Well, I might believe you. It's a little overwhelming- believing you. -And my anxiety,” Jaskier clarified, brushing his thumb over Geralt’s back as he spoke.

“That’s okay.”

Jaskier frowned and looked down at his boyfriend. He was staring up at him with ridiculously round eyes and his eyebrows drawn in and together with a not-so-subtle pout to his lips. Regardless of the cute face, his eyes held sincerity. And Jaskier didn’t really know what to do with it. 

“I-” Jask took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling as he spoke, “I’m used to hiding it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Geralt tapped Jaskier’s chin to get him to look at him, “Yeah, that’s okay. If it’s hard for you to tell someone, that’s okay. We’ll work with it.” 

If he weren’t pinned underneath Geralt at an uncooperative angle, Jaskier would have kissed him, but he settled for resting his palm on his jaw, “You’re too sweet to me.”

“You deserve it,” Geralt hummed, turning his head to kiss his wrist. 

For once, Jaskier didn’t fight him on it. 

[whaleofatjme1920]

Oh god please, more cheating and angst (hoodie? Tim? 👀👀👀) Idk u just write it so good and my aching heart feels better oddly because of it. I fuckn love angst djsjsjjdjdjd

Full Moon and Being A Horrible Person

[Masky X F!Reader]

[Warnings: language, physical cheating]

[AN: i love angst too]

The full moon makes us do weird things, it’s been well documented. From the people bouncing off the walls to inducing labor, all the way to making us make questionable decisions, the full moon is to blame, not him.

It was a full moon when he caught the eyes of a woman with dark, sweet chocolate colored eyes. She looked so beautiful under the lights of the bar, yellow illuminating her skin like it was gold.

She’d been flirting with him across the bar the entire night. Wry smiles, tapping her fingernails against the glass, twirling her dark hair and giggling when he caught her eyes and by extension, her attention.

“You know Reader isn’t gonna be happy with your behavior,” Hoodie had lightly chided him before downing more of his beer. “Why don’t you let me take over? I haven’t-”

“No,” Tim laughed, pushing at his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s harmless flirting,” he finished, watching Hoodie’s expression from the corner of his eye.

“If Reader was doing this, would you consider it harmless flirting?”

Kate excused herself from her conversation with one of the ladies from the booth behind the table she and her group shared, then turned her attention to her group leader. “He has a point,” she said, grinning when Hoodie leaned over the table to high-five her.

Tim rolled his eyes and began to lazily swish his drink. “It’s nothing, I promise.”

“You mean to say you haven’t emptied your balls in a few weeks and you’re desperate,” Hoodie deadpans, breaking his blank expression when Kate loudly laughs.

“Again, he has a point,” Kate smirked. “C’mon, let Hoodie or Toby take this one. Neither of them are in relationships and are less likely to get attached.”

Tim raises a brow at Kate. “Attached? What does that mean?”

Hoodie shares a look with the woman across from him who nods at him to explain what exactly she means. “She uh,” Hoodie awkwardly sips at his beer before biting the bullet completely. “C’mon man, you have an addictive personality. Pills, cigarettes, Reader…” He trails off before Tim hisses and punches Hoodie’s shoulder, roughly. Hoodie only barks a laugh and raises his hand up in submission. “I’m right, I’m always right!” He manages to choke out through remaining giggles.

“Can we just drop it for now?” Tim growls.

Kate rolls her eyes and then pulls a face to Hoodie, who stifles his laughter just barely before she turns back to her conversation with the ladies from the booth behind her. She’s up and out of her seat following a group of them to the other side of the bar, giggling and laughing as a woman with short pink hair holds her hand and weaves her through the crowds.

Hoodie feigns innocence before standing up. “I’m gonna find Tobes, who knows what he’s doing. Tearing up the dance floor, maybe?”

Tim watches as his best friend shuffles out from his seat, beer still in hand as he disappears into the sea of people. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. His dark eyes scan the bustling room full of bright, rainbow colored strobe lights and too loud music only to catch a glimpse of the full moon outside. It’s tinged pink, and seems to blossom the longer he looks at it. Due to where they’re currently at in the city, he can’t see the stars - much too much light pollution. A sigh is about to escape his lips when he feels a hand brushing over his, pulling him from the light of the full moon and onto the woman he’d been flirting quietly with all night.

“Never thought I’d get you alone,” she says, voice sweet like honey and smoother than silk.

Tim thinks about his words, his group’s chiding before mentally shrugging off all responsibilities. “I know, right?” He replies, voice low and deep, something charming and sweet.

She grins like the Cheshire Cat before playfully biting her lip. “I’m just passing through here,” she begins, “maybe we could… Have a few more drinks then head back to my hotel room?”

Tim feels a slight blush come to his cheeks before swallowing it back down. He smirks, leaning into her presence. “I’d love nothing more.”

The two of them knock back a few more drinks, the woman mostly choosing fruity things and Tim sticking to whiskey. Their touches become more and more bold, and their words more lusty and obscene by the moment. He has her sit on his lap and he whispers all the nasty things he wants to do to her and she gobbles it up, giggles and soft licks to the shell of his ear driving him up a wall.

And then, he follows her to her hotel. It’s a tangle of lips smashing against lips, hearts beating in sync and hands grabbing in the most inappropriate of places. Her clothes lie on the floor before getting covered up by his, her body following in suit.

Tim takes her. He drinks her in full and has her seeing the stars that were once only gazed upon by you. He touches her in ways you’ve never been touched and allows her to touch him in ways he’d always claimed were ‘too much’ for him.

When the deed is done, he’s cuddling her much like he would cuddle you, cigarette in his mouth and bliss on his face.

Tim stayed the night.

The next morning, he’s so groggy that he doesn’t even realize he’s still got her lipstick stains on his skin. He gets back in his car (failing to realize his group had to either walk back to the temp or hitch with someone else), and heads back to the only true home he’d ever considered.

It’s a few hours to your place, but he makes it, and that’s all that matters. Your car isn’t in the driveway, so he lets himself in. A quiet stumble to the bathroom and he sees he looks like a mess. The weight of what he did to you begins to sink in.

Tim turns the shower on and strips off his clothing - the clothes still linger with her perfume before he hops in and begins to furiously scrub at his skin. Tears well in his eyes. How could he do that to you? What kind of common sense was he lacking in that moment?

He continues to scrub, slowly coming to the realization that he’s going to do whatever it takes to hide this from you - you can never know. It was the light of the full moon, people always act crazy when the moon is in that phase, and he was drunk, like really drunk.

Excuses, excuses.

The water stops right when he hears the front door open. He hears your voice. You’re greeting him sweetly, like you always do.

He takes in a deep breath. You can never know.

It was only inevitable that you’d find out, though he’s surprised you went as long as you did without knowing. Tim hid it from you for months, and he probably could’ve kept it longer if he didn’t come with you to Target when you asked. You’d always been a fan of late night store runs, and he hadn’t gone on one with you in a while… What harm could it possibly do?

A lot. A lot of harm that surfaced the truth.

“I should’ve cuffed you when I had a chance!” The woman giggled as she came up beside you as you looked at the early Halloween decorations.

You raised a brow. “Excuse me?” You looked over to your boyfriend, whose face had gone pale. “I think you have the wrong…”

“You’re a lucky girl, y’know that?” She continued, brushing off your words. “He took me to the moon.” Her voice was so sultry and decadent. “Hope he takes you to the moon as well,” she says, her fingers trailing Tim’s arm.

He pulls away from her. “W...Who are you?” He says, attempting to sound confused.

The woman pulls a face before looking in between the two of you, her dark eyes glancing and putting together the pieces. Instead of being embarrassed or ashamed, she chuckles and begins to take off again. “I did you a favor, honey,” she calls over her shoulder, hips swaying as she turns down another aisle.

You don’t want to admit it, but now you know why Tim’s been so weird lately and nicer than usual. Sure, Tim is a sweet guy, but his behavior the past few months has been OVERLY nice, and now you know why. “What was that?” You ask, eyes narrowing and tears welling.

“Nothing, let’s just pay and get out-”

“I wanna go home.”

Tim moves to rest his hand on your shoulder, but you recoil as if you’d been burned.

A huge argument ensued when the two of you got back into the car, lots of harsh words were traded. He tried reasoning with you, he tried telling you how much he loved you, he tried everything in his power but he’d ruined a good thing.

You ended up pulling over on the side of the road, slamming the breaks, tears in your eyes and turned to him. “Give me the key to my house.”

“What? No-”

“Give. Me. The. Key. Tim,” you hiss, punctuating every word with stronger venom. You held your hand out.

Tim sighs deeply and reaches into his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose as you harshly snatch the key from his awaiting hand. “It’s not like that, you know I love you-”

“Is that what you’re calling it? Cheating on me and then lying about it for months?” You rhetorically ask, growling and seething further and further. You feel rage wracking your system as it exhausts you further and further. You can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because if you do, you’ll melt.

“I’m telling you, it was to protect you,” he attempts again. “Let’s just, let’s just go home and-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you say, drawing in every remaining and residual strength you have as hot tears scald your cheeks.

“You don’t mean that-”

“I do.”

“Reader, baby please-”

“Get the fuck out of my car,” you repeat. You squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head and then turn back to the road. “Do it before I do something stupid.”

Tim feels his heart shatter, cracking on impact as it falls deeper and deeper. He shakily runs his fingers through his hair before sliding out of your car, slamming the door shut and watches as you drive off and out of his life. He wants to scream, or cry, maybe both at the same time? He’s not entirely sure yet. He just knows his world is crashing down and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He betrayed your trust and broke your heart all for one singular night of passion.

The emotionally distraught man looks up at the moon, finding no solace that it’s full again.

[darling-archeron]

Lucifer Finale Thoughts

Okay, I've thought a lot about Lucifer s6, and overall I've been able to accept the whole time travel aspect, even if I didn't care for it. I think the writers did a great job with everyone else's storylines, I was extremely satisfied with them. That being said, I feel they kind of dropped the ball on Lucifer and Chloe's ending with the time loop. I'm a simple person. I don't think an ending has to be bittersweet or deep or whatever to simply be good.

I like the idea of Lucifer finding his true calling as Hell's therapist. I think it fits him really well. But the idea that he had to make a choice he only made because his daughter begged him and he knew he had already done it....felt so fucking tragic. This choice draws some parallels between Lucifer and God's parenting, and I don't think that's a good thing. This show has always been about choice, they even spend the last 2 eps talking about that, and Lucifer's final choice isn't one. Not really.

He straight up says that what he desires is to stay with Chloe and watch Rory grow up. And he doesn't get that. If he hadn't felt so compelled in the heat of the moment, I don't think he would have agreed. You can argue that it's because he had to make a selfless choice, but he already made that huge sacrifice in the s4 finale. (Also going back to Hell to protect humanity! For what he assumed would be millennia!) Lucifer has proven that he can be selfless, not just for those close to him, but for others. Testing him again was unnecessary.

Lucifer spends the first three seasons trying to escape his father's machinations, and two more accepting that he has more control than he thinks. But this finale completely upturned this message, to the point where I feel as though I have to erase it from my mind to enjoy the rest of the show. If this has all been God's plan - Chloe, Rory, the time loop - then what has the point of rebellion? For Lucifer, he has free will, until he doesn't.

And yes, it makes me happy to know that Lucifer and Chloe get to solve mysteries for eternity in Hell, and I guess they and Rory (Trixie???? though I know she wasn't in this season much due to covid restrictions and s5 was supposed to be the end) will get to make up for all that lost time. The thing that kills me is that you literally only live once. Yes, Lucifer found a calling, but I would say it's just as, if not more, important that he found his family. For a show that harped on a work-life balance for a whole season, Lucifer doesn't get one.

I think it would have been powerful to show Lucifer actively breaking the loop. Undoing it, at worst, means it takes Lucifer a little while longer to find his true calling. I 100% believe he would have eventually. Like, the idea of abandoning your kid so they can be angry with you and eventually travel back in time and help you realize you find your true calling seems so...over the top. Rory was already conceived, so she will still be born. Future Rory is a real person, but at the same time, she's a concept, one of a million possibilities.

When Rory begs Lucifer to leave, it felt as though it was framed for Rory to be making a big sacrifice so her Dad can have his purpose. But I would argue she isn't the one truly sacrificing - Lucifer and Chloe spend years and years apart. Chloe has to actively lie to her daughter, and while Rory doesn't know any better, it's almost blissful ignorance.

And not to be all deus-ex-machina, but Amenadiel, the former angel of TIME, is now God. Why could he not A) give everyone their time loop memories to keep so we avoided this whole kerfuffle, and/or B) changed how time works in hell, so Lucifer can come back to Earth without missing thousands of years of therapy in Hell.

Deckerstar has jumped through countless hurdles to make their relationship work, and they got...what, three months of being a real couple before being torn apart again?

To me, letting Lucifer and Chloe raise Rory and Trixie together, with them in their respective day jobs would work. In order for more souls to heal, the demons could spend time on Earth and grow a soul, as Maze did. Eventually, perhaps they, or some of Lucifer's siblings, could help him down there. Meanwhile, Chloe grows old, and maybe Lucifer self-actualizes an aging appearance too. When her time comes, they both move to Hell, and are partners til the end there. Lucifer popping back up to see Trixie and other friends left living.

This got much longer than I intended. Idk, don't get me wrong, I'm pleased with how everyone else's storyline wrapped up, and whoever decides on the music for the show deserves an Emmy. And I'm happy that Deckerstar eventually gets eternity together. But I can't shake the bitter taste of the series subverting it's core message all for the sake of a "bittersweet" and "heartfelt" finale.

And to the 95% of people who don't follow me for Lucifer, you probably haven't made it this far, but I apologize, and will be back to my regularly scheduled programming soon.

[egcdeath]

checkmate

summary: you’ve always refused to lose, and love was no exception. (gone girl-ish au)

pairing(s): ransom drysdale x dark!reader, a special mystery guest ;) 

word count: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ because of heavy themes! faked death, framing of crimes, manipulation, alluding to sex, alluding to cheating, terrible relationship dynamic, very loose usage of the word crazy/psychotic, implied mention of self harm, brief choking & slapping (in a non sexual way lol), pregnancy trapping (idk if thats the right term), the reader is a very bad human being, overuse of italics  *please let me know if i’m missing any warnings!

author’s note: this is my 2nd submission for @stargazingfangirl18’s 5k soft dark challenge, i decided to make the reader dark >:) but ransom is also not a good person. I used these prompts: “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” & The town golden *girl isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

this is definitely the most unhinged thing i’ve ever written, but blame @literate-lamb for making me write this because when i pitched this to her and said that i’d probably never write it, she enabled me. 

okay that's enough from me. join my taglist if you want :D

“I know women whose entire personas are woven from a benign mediocrity. Their lives are a list of shortcomings: the unappreciative boyfriend, the extra ten pounds, the dismissive boss, the conniving sister, the straying husband. I've always hovered above their stories, nodding in sympathy and thinking how foolish they are, these women, to let these things happen, how undisciplined. And now to be one of them! One of the women with the endless stories that make people nod sympathetically and think: Poor dumb bitch.” Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl

Your whole life, you’d considered yourself a competitive person. Constantly overcompensating for one thing or another, whether it was the chronic desire to achieve perfection that had been installed in you since you were a little girl, or your persistent internalized sense of inadequacy. You realized early on that it was much better for you to win than for you to lose, no matter the physical, emotional, or mental cost of the prize of perfection.

For the most part, this mindset worked out for you. You graduated as Valedictorian from your high school, neared the top of your graduating class at Harvard. God knew you earned it, all those tears you shed into overpriced textbooks, all the popping of unprescribed Adderall, and robbing yourself of the parties and social events that the rest of your peers gladly indulged in. 

You were just different, which was why you gained a job nearly immediately after your exit from school, quickly climbing to the top at the Blood Like Wine publishing company after only a few years of being there. 

And one night, at the party celebrating the release of A Thousand Knives when you laid your eyes on Hugh Ransom Drysdale, the grandson of your boss, you knew that you needed to have him. Rich, hot, a bit of an asshole. You deserved to finally complete your image, and that socialite flavored eye candy seemed to fit the part perfectly. Luckily for you, he was desperate. It only took a few tugs on your dress’ V-line, and a number of knowing smirks to find yourself being finger-banged in his family manor’s bathroom.

From there, you wormed your way into his life. Leaving belongings at his place as an excuse to come back, and offering booty calls in the middle of the night. Ransom must’ve been much more desperate than you originally thought, as it really only seemed to take one night of stroking his hair while he vented about his family to make him want to be with you. Men with mommy issues were always so easy. 

Except, he wasn’t that easy. The longer you got to know Ransom, the more fucked up you realized he really was. He had no boundaries at all, became jealous and enraged at the drop of a pin, and occasionally told you things that made the hairs on your arms rise. 

This of course all came to a head after the night of Harlan’s 85th birthday party. When the news broke of his tragic death, you’d immediately known it was the works of your Hugh. If your intuition wasn’t enough, his confession in the shower, where he’d demanded you take off your clothes to display that you were without a bug, certainly was. 

You were completely devastated. The man that you’d invested so much into for years had thrown both his and your reputations down the drain in just a matter of hours. Of course, you felt bad for Harlan too. He was a good guy (when he wasn’t instigating a family fight).

Still, you showed up during the funeral in your best mourning clothes and dawning your biggest crocodile tears. You rubbed Linda’s back while she mourned the loss of her father, and the new truth about her husband. You played dumb when interrogated by some Southern private investigator, even giving Ransom an airtight alibi. You testified on his behalf in court with enough conviction to grant you an Emmy. 

You’d gotten so far, devoted so much energy into him, that you simply refused to lose now. 

To your friends, you’d seemed to lead a near perfect life. Dream job, dreamy boyfriend, dream bank account, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you just didn’t know what. 

It dawned on you while sipping mimosas at the country club, Ransom playing tennis with his friends just a few yards away from you while Danielle showed off her brand new engagement ring, a .59 Carat Asscher Diamond, that if you heard her speak of again, would probably make you lose your shit.

You zoned out as she droned on and on about the shape, and how Matt proposed to her in their own private room in one of the most exclusive Parisian restaurants, instead focusing on how you could find yourself in the same position as that airhead next to you. In all honesty, you couldn’t stand the idea that someone was doing better than you, let alone someone in your own social circle. Dani got all the bragging rights of being engaged to the heir of some tech giant, being the first in your friend group to get eloped, and worst of all, Matt wasn’t even making her sign a prenup. 

You blankly watched Ransom from afar, taking occasional sips from your sweet drink, while you thought of how you deserved all of that and more, and you were going to get it one way or another. 

——

It didn’t take much to come up with something, your first and most obvious plan being to simply ask Ransom when he was going to propose to you. Of course, this wasn’t the first time you’d tried to approach him about this subject, you just wondered if maybe this time things would be different.

Panting heavily after a rather rough night in bed, you rolled off of your boyfriend’s chest and gave him a messy, yet sincere kiss. You knew your man well, and if there was any time to pop the question, it was in his post-nut haze.

“Baby,” you said breathily, “I wanna ask you something.”

“Shoot,” he responded casually, glancing over at you. 

“When’re you gonna propose to me?” you hummed.

Ransom groaned and shook his head, rolling his eyes, “this is about Matt and Dani, huh?” he tutted, then extended a hand out to your warm cheeks so he could gently caress one with his thumb. “Thought we agreed marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s stupid.”

You huffed in response.

Of fucking course.

“I never said that,” you muttered, setting a hand on his broad chest. “Besides, it’ll be good if you get pissed and decide to like, kill your dad or something. Y’know, spouses don’t have to testify against each other in court.”

Ransom chuckled as if this whole thing was funny, like your feelings were some kind of sick joke to him. “You know my lawyers, babe. They could prove that bees don’t make honey. That bears don’t shit in the forest. I appreciate your attempt, though. This has been some really nice pillow talk.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, pinching his nipple in retaliation before turning your back to him and yanking the blanket onto your side. 

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised that he was being stubborn, most of the time you felt like you were pulling teeth from the man. But that’s why you had a backup plan! You always had a backup plan. That’s what separated you from your boyfriend. Where Ransom was extemporized and impulsive, you were calculating and prudent. 

Although you devised your plan that very afternoon while watching your partner backhand small green balls, you were going to need some time to get everything in order, to prove Murphy and his stupid law wrong in making sure that everything that could go wrong wouldn’t. 

After all, love was a game. And you sure as hell weren’t losing to Hugh Drysdale. 

——

You sacrificed too much to have your plans ruined by some trust fund baby with impulsivity issues. You deserved your dream marriage, the stability you wished you had as a child. You wanted the white picket fence, and everything that came along with it. Your desire to be the best, to be perfect was what drove you to poke holes in every condom in the box, what led you to draw liters of your own blood in hopes of staging a fake crime scene, to buy a cheap getaway car and burner phone off of Craigslist, and reach out to a high school boyfriend who you knew was in a position as desperate as you. 

You planted seeds of doubt in your friends throughout the following weeks, feeding them lies about Ransom’s behavior, how you were afraid of telling him that you did in fact see two faint red lines on that damn plastic stick– only half of the statement truly being false–, telling them that he was behaving erratically lately.

It all was going without a hitch. Ransom didn’t seem to notice anything was off, despite your frequent visits to the bathroom and newfound affinity for true crime documentaries. 

You almost felt guilty, knowing the world of pain you were about to throw the man into. Granted, he deserved the pain. You were in a relationship with a genuinely terrible person, and that person had made a conscious effort not to commit to you. You tried to make this easy for him, give him a chance to say a few words to you and slide a ring on your finger, but no, he always seemed to take the hard route.

You slept like a baby the night before you were setting your plan in action. You made sure to uphold the facade of everything being fine, making Ransom a nice breakfast before sending him halfway across town to the hardware store with an oddly incriminating list.

Once he was out of the house, you hurried off to the fridge in the garage where you’d been keeping a small stash of your own blood. It wasn’t pretty, but it had to be done. You poured the blood throughout the kitchen, splattering bits of it on the counters and cupboards. You poorly cleaned the mess, just as he would.

You put your next move in motion, falsifying a home invasion. You tossed over a table and some chairs, throwing books and photos onto the floor, but left some aspects slightly untouched, like an upright picture frame to give yet another hint that things were not exactly what they appeared. 

You left a tiny blue post-it note on the nightstand of Ransom’s side of the bed, a quick and simple doodle of a ring along with the first initial of your name inked onto the tiny piece of paper. 

With that, you were off. Technically missing, soon-to-be presumed dead.

----

 The days following your disappearance had gone even better than you’d initially planned. Local news coverage had been all over you, search and rescue groups were assiduously looking for you, your parents had opened a tip line, and begged for you to get home safe on news segments. But the best part of it all was that Ransom had been briefly found himself in police custody, only to be released shortly thereafter. His past of an accused murder quickly made your disappearance even more of a national story, and you watched the whole thing unravel from the safety and comfort of your high school boyfriend, Andy Barber’s Newton home. 

Of course, you fed him the same lies you’d given to your friends, and seeing the rather lonely position he was in, he gladly let you stay with him. You were absolutely having a hay-day with it all, dedicating hours of your day to watching Ransom slowly unravel. Maybe it was a bit sadistic of you to enjoy torturing your partner so much, but he needed to learn his lesson. You deserved better. You needed Ransom to rise up to your level, allowing you to finally complete your image. To let you two appear to be the perfect couple. Really, this was all on him.

Andy, for the most part, had been a good host. He was gone for the majority of the day, dedicating himself to his work while you lounged around on his dangerously cozy couch. Around two weeks into your stay, you were sharing a box of pizza in the living room with your old lover when something interesting on the television caught your eye.

Ransom, broadcasted on CBS, being interviewed on your disappearance. 

You watched with wide eyes as Ransom begged for your return on national television. It was one thing seeing your mother plead for you to come back, the same woman who had installed such toxic behavior in you sob for your return, but Ransom. You’d never loved him more than in that moment.

“Hugh, if you could tell Y/N one thing, what would it be?” the interviewer asked.

Ransom turned, looking straight at the camera, directly into your soul, “Y/N, I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. I need you to come back safely, to see you, to hold you again. I’d give anything in the world for that right now,” he looked down, a tear falling down his cheek. “I can’t live without you in my life, I-”

His sentence was cut off by Andy grabbing the remote, and turning off the TV. You turned your head and frowned deeply at him.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked with a bit of a pout.

“I just couldn’t stand listening to him talk about you like he hasn’t treated you like shit for the past few years. C’mon, let’s get ready for bed.”

Your blood boiled. Andy was once a means to an end, but now he was interfering. He was clearly much too selfish to see that you and Ransom were quite obviously soulmates. A match made in hell. 

You followed him to bed regardless, curling up on what had been your side of the bed for the past few days, and staring at the wall until Andy’s breaths moved from a soft and rhythmic pattern to loud snores. God, those snores were obnoxious. 

You slipped out of bed and to his dresser, grabbing two soft ties from the drawer, and daintily tying his wrists to each side of the bedpost.

“What‘re you doing?” he mumbled, instinctively yanking both of his wrists as he awoke.

“I’m going back home,” you whispered.

“You can’t be serious,” Andy huffed, tugging on the restraint attached to the headboard.

You shook your head, “I am.”

“I should’ve known. Why would you do something like this? Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in with the law?”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in when the world finds out that you kidnapped me?” you retorted.

This threat seemed to wake him up right away, “what about this was kidnapping? I gave you a nice home, fed you, I didn’t even make a pass at you. I didn’t do shit to you,” he hissed. “You think I can’t prove that? I’m a lawyer, for god's sake!”

You nearly laughed, “Okay, Andy,” you paused for a moment, “As a lawyer, who do you think everyone’ll believe? Someone who the world was on a wild goose chase for in the last two weeks? Or the man with a family history of violence? Must I remind you that your father and your son have killed people?”

Andy shook his head, face pinched in sorrow at the mention of his deceased son, clearly a low blow. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Swear to god that you won’t tell a soul what happened here,” you leaned over him, getting right in his face. “Or I promise, Andrew Barber, I will ruin you. You’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars, or disbarred, or whatever the hell I decide to do with you. So keep your goddamn lips shut.” 

You pulled away and he solemnly nodded, not bothering to put up a fight. You loosened the fabric around his left wrist and walked out of the room. You picked up the keys to Andy’s Audi on your way out, checking the time as you adjusted the driver's seat. 

9:45 PM. Fatherhood really changed the man.

You pushed that thought aside and began your drive home, which turned out to be a surprisingly short trip. When you pulled up in front of your home, you were met with a slew of reporters outside of the house, along with a police car that seemed to be permanently camped there.

As you slowly got out of the car, a gasp, followed by a loud silence fell across the crowd. You limped for dramatic effect up the driveway as cameras followed you, and glanced back at them pathetically. From your peripheral view, you noticed the officers get out of their vehicle.

You finally got to your door, ringing the doorbell and waiting. You blinked harshly a few times, conjuring up the tears you needed to really make a spectacle of the event. After a few minutes, Ransom opened the door, eyes widening as he looked at you. He stepped out, and you wrapped him in as big of a hug as you could manage, genuinely missing his embrace. It was possible that you even let out a few real tears in the moment.

Your emotional embrace was interrupted by the man you recognized as Lieutenant Elliott, the same officer who’d been assigned to Harlan’s case. 

“Ma’am,” he began, only to be shut down by you. 

“Please, just let me be with my boyfriend,” you pleaded, crocodile tears streaming down your face as you spoke with the officer. You still needed time to get your story straight.

“Just give us the night, Lieutenant. We’ll come in first thing tomorrow morning,” Ransom added, furrowing his brows at the officer that he’d come into contact with far too many times. 

He looked to his partner, who shrugged, then to you, “enjoy your night.”

Cameras flashed around you as civilians, journalists, and newscasters alike attempted to catch your attention. You grabbed Ransom’s hand and dramatically pulled him inside, insincerely attempting to hide your face by ducking and covering half of your face with your arm. 

As soon as you were in the privacy of your own home, Ransom threw you against a wall. 

“Why. The fuck. Would you pull a stunt like that,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes wild, and a hand around your throat. 

You whimpered as he tightened his grip, rage clearly flowing through his system uncontrollably.

“Do you know what you did to me? You almost had me thrown in fucking jail. Do you understand that?”

You nodded weakly, “Ran,” you whispered, “the baby,” you glanced down at your stomach.

He paused, dropping his grip on your neck and staring at you in awe, “no…” 

You nodded again. 

“How…? You told me you were on the pill… You- you made me use protection…”

“Surprise?” you said weakly. 

“You’re a psychotic bitch.”

“I’m your psychotic bitch. And no child of mine will be born out of wedlock,” you taunted. 

“That’s what this is about?” Ransom laughed manically. “You did this all because I won’t fucking marry you?”

You didn’t even have to respond.

“I should send you to the loony bin right fucking now.”

“What happened to all those things you said to me on TV?”

“You’re fucking delusional. I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ve had to put up with you and your stupid little antics for way too long. How do you think I felt when you killed your own grandfather?”

Ransom scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “you are so fucked up.”

“I’m the fucked up one? You killed your own blood in cold blood! You’re unhinged!” 

“You faked your own death for attention, and got pregnant while doing it! Is that baby even mine?”

“The fuck are you trying to say, Hugh?”

“I asked if it’s even mine.”

“Really. You’re accusing me of cheating on you. That’s rich considering Mia, Layla, and whoever the fuck else. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous? You couldn’t have a normal adult conversation with me!”

“Are you kidding me? I asked you time after time to marry me and it was always some bullshit excuse!” you wagged a finger in his face as you spoke. “Oh, commitment scares me, oh, marriage is just a piece of paper, oh-“ you mocked his voice in a deeper tone before you were cut off by the sting of his hand against your cheek.

“Can you shut the hell up?” he growled at you as you held your own cheek, before you reached out and slapped him back, “I can’t believe that I’m stuck with such a deranged bitch for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe work on your vows a little, dear. I don’t think that those words are as charming to me as they’d be to the rest of our family and friends.”

“You can’t be serious,” he groaned.

“But I am,” you hummed, rubbing your cheek softly once again. “Look at how fast your life fell apart without me here. How quickly the public turned on you. Imagine how upset they’d be if you left me. I love you, Ran. I really do. You and I are perfect for each other, can’t you see that now?”

Ransom took a step away from you, pacing slowly in front of you. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, and took a long and drawn out breath, clearly at a loss for words.

“So when should we have the wedding? I’ve always wanted a Spring wedding, and I know it’s a little short notice, but I don’t want to be showing too much in my wedding dress,” you grabbed Ransom’s bicep gently, as if you were just having a regular old day with him, as if you hadn’t been choked and slapped moments ago. “But we can make it work. We always make it work, right?”

Your now fiancé stared vacantly at the wall ahead of him, giving you a slow, empty nod of agreement. 

“It’s settled then,” you smirked. “I’ll start looking at venues. You find me a nice ring, okay Honey? One that puts all those other bitches’ rings to shame,” you sighed pleasantly to yourself, “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before hurrying up the stairs and into your bedroom. You heard a distant shriek of  “fuck,” from Ransom, but you truly could not care less. 

You hopped into bed, grabbing your laptop from its charger and promptly opening it. You couldn’t help but to smile at your own reflection on the empty black screen. This wasn’t how you imagined your engagement, but you did the impossible. You tied yourself down to Hugh Ransom Drysdale, he went down kicking in screaming, and you were likely in for a lifetime of cheating and resentment, but you did it nonetheless. 

You finally won.  

[venomous-ko]

Wine Drunk while watching Godzilla vs Kong

Some major spoilers up ahead!

Mans really just annoyed the shit out of his coworker until he left so he could hack shit, huh?...I love it! 🤣🤣

——————————————

You mean to tell me that the explanation for why Godzilla attacked the one tech company site by the dude who studied Kaiju communication and behavior for a living is just, “sometimes people (and creatures) change”???? Like some dumbass justifying a toxic person/relationship??? Like excuse me???? Why are the literal teenagers making more sense than you?????

Also, we’re all in agreement that this facility is either housing Ghidora’s dead head, Mecha Godzilla, or Mecha Ghidora, right?!?

——————————————

Lol! “Apex Cybernetics!” That’s not foreshadowing! 🤣

——————————————

Apparently, I didn’t get my fill of white nonsense from Falcon and Winter Soldier, bc someone decided to put this blonde-hair-blue-eyed little bitch in charge! That’s not ganna go wrong somehow. 🙃😑👀

Like this bitch literally wanted to send a fucking child into unexplored hollow earth territory without a second thought! 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I was literally like 🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕 for that entire convo.

——————————————

I’m sorry! This conspiracy man just met these teenagers, and his first impulse was, “yeah, theses seem like some good people to break into a tech conglomerate with!” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

Why are these people surprised Kong knows sign language? These are people who study Kaiju (and presumably other animals in order to draw conclusions about certain behaviors) for a fucking living!!! We have primate species that recognize and communicate in sign language already! Why is this surprising???!?! Like...has NO ONE except this precious child tried this????

Also, nothing bad better happen to this child.

——————————————

That ship literally fucked around, and Godzilla let it find out! Lmao!

——————————————

Kong: Hey, Godzilla...look at me...

Godzilla: >:[

Kong: ...bitch.

——————————————

Precious girl: Thank you, friend 🧏🏽‍♀️

Kong: ☺️😴

THIS GIRL IS TOO PRECIOUS!!!!

——————————————

Bitch-ass White Man: How’s Kong with heights?

BITCH, you really ganna try that?!?! You really think you ganna find any aircraft(s) that are ganna be able to support all that weight?? Never mind any other problems with Kong trying to nope the fuck out of that situation and all kind of other hosts of problems!

And if you do somehow have one (or multiple) WHY TF DIDN’T YOU USE THAT BEFORE KNOWING FULL AND WELL YOU RAN THE RISK OF GODZILLA MERCING KONG’S ASS IF YOU TRAVELED VIA SHIP!?!?!?!

——————————————

Down the Hell Naw tunnel we go!

——————————————

“I think it’s romantic,”

I fucking love Millie Bobbie Brown’s character!! 🤣❤️🤣

——————————————

WHY IS THIS TEENAGER SMARTER THAN EVERYBODY OMG!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

“This is page one in the ‘Playing God’ handbook, right?”

I’ve decided I love this character! 🤣

——————————————

WHY YOU GETTING INSIDE THAT THING—Oh god! 😨 Why y’all got eggs!?!? This is like if Weyland-Yutani succeeded in getting Xenomorphs! 😬

——————————————

Oop! Locked in! THIS IS WHY YOU DON’T HIDE OUT IN MYSTERIOUS ROOMS!!!!

——————————————

Oh shit! Apex Cybernetics think they on that Wakanda shit now!

Also, why was that one Apex Cybernetics bitch bitching about how one of those HEAV crafts could power Vagas for a week if y’all clearly have a whole network or transportation using this tech!

And I never understood how tech companies kept that shit to world domination shit! Build a public transportation system with that shit! Boss man said he likes ideas that make him rich! Pretty sure that would do the trick!

——————————————

WINE BREAK!!!

Saving the rest of the last bottle for coking Gumbo, so gotta open up a new bottle

——————————————

Aw, Kong is so sick of this bullshit! 😂😭

——————————————

“It’s not working”

Bruh! Give it more that two seconds!

——————————————

HOW DARE Y’ALL USE KONG’S LOSS AGAINST HIM!!!! HOW DARE Y’ALL!!!

——————————————

HEAV go Brrrrrrr Shoooooooooooom!!!!

——————————————

LMAO!!! Monarch has their own brand of bottled water!?!?! Idk why that amuses me so much!

——————————————

This hallow earth portal thing is some Pacific Rim bullshit right here, lol!

——————————————

NYOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM

——————————————

Are we...are we really Ice Age: Dawn of Dinosaur-ing this shit rn??? 😂😂😂

——————————————

“It’s beautiful,”

Of course it’s beautiful! No hoomins have touched it! Lol

——————————————

Y’ALL GOT FUCKIN DRAGONS IN THIS BITCH!?!?!?!!! 8D YO!!! SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!!

——————————————

*marvels at the creature creation ideas*

——————————————

Kong’s first thought: *nom the dragon guts*

——————————————

THE ROCK HAND OMG IM GANNA CRY!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 It’s the same gesture the Precious Girl did OMG!!!!

——————————————

“We going in?”

“Yeah”

The BALLS on this child!

——————————————

“AAAAHH 😐”

*fear*

LMAO!!!!! I’M FUCKIN WHEEZING!!!

——————————————

“Sacrifice Pit”

OMG 🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

I KNEW IT!!!! MECHA-GODZILLA MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!! 8DDDDD

——————————————

YO PACIFIC RIM RAN SO MECHA-GODZILLA COULD FUCKIN SPRINT!!!!!!!!

——————————————

YO IT’S A GOOD THING I AIN’T SEEING THIS IN THEATERS BC I’D BE FLIPPING MY SHIT!!!!

——————————————

“Humanity, once again, will be the apex species,”

THERE it is!

——————————————

Why Mecha-Godzilla so skeeny?!? He need ta be thicc if he ganna take down REAL Godzilla!

——————————————

*Ryan Bergera conspiracy voice* Is this the real reason Kong was contained!? So this douche could snatch up Skull Crawlers without Kong intervention???

——————————————

OH SHIT!!! I think this thing is emitting alpha waves (or whatever we’re calling it) and THAT’s what set Godzilla off!!! He fought Ghidorah, heard this shit and went, “Nu-uh, bitch! NOT AGAIN!!!”

——————————————

Monarch dude: Yo, Godzilla’s headed to Hong Kong for some reason?

FUCKIN CALLED IT!!!

——————————————

This look like the door to fuckin General Grievous’s lair,da fuq?!? 🤣🤣🤣

 ——————————————

I got waaay too emotional over that handprint, y’all! 😭😭😭

——————————————

Y’all, the fucking art history major in me is fuckin screaming at this temple scene! The fact that some of these Kaiju not only had the urge and drive and capacity to build a fucking temple around this power source or some shit and create weapons like the axe that Kong just fucking Excalibured the shit out of that one skull crawler’s skull fucking implies the fact that there is intelligent civilization amongst these fucking Kaiju and all that shit! I want to know more about this shit! Take that you fucking racist-ass white historian motherfuckers!

(Note: I definitely needed to use talk to text for much of this bit, because there was no way I was going to be able to contain all my excitement in just typing, alone, lmao)

——————————————

BRUH!!! Why y’all exiting g the HEAV without no breathing apparatus or lead suits or nothing!?!?! In previous movies, y’all implied that these Kaiju lived in environments in which their environments were hella radioactive compared to our own!!!

——————————————

Kong is s the true heir to the iron throne, Lmao!

——————————————

FUCKING CALLED IT!!!! THEY HAD GHIDORA’S REMAINS IN THERE SOMEWHERE!!!!

——————————————

OH FUCK!!!! Y’ALL AINT JUST SENDING OUT ALPHA VIBES WITH YOUR MECHA-GODZILLA!!!! YOU SOMEHOW USING GHIDORA’S HIVE MIND OR TELEPATHY SHIT TO DO IT!?!?!?! AAAWWWWW SHEEEEEET!!! Y’ALL ARE BONED NOW!!!! FUCKIN BONEROWNED!!!!

——————————————

Godzilla! My bruh! My dude! You didn’t HAVE TO get up right where that bridge was!!! 😂😂 Ya douche bag!!!

——————————————

At the same time, tho, I can just hear him going, “Ah! FUCK! NOT AGAIN!!! Sunova bitch!! Motherfuckin!! STOP BUILDING sHIT SO DAMN HIGH!!! Goddammit!”

——————————————

You know, with all the Bright twinkly lights in Hong Kong, I can’t help but think of the sequel to the original Gojira movie ( that I can’t remember the title of ,rn) where he was fucking triggered by fucking lights. And I wonder if this little scene where he’s stomping all through Hong Kong is a tribute to that or whatever. But I’m probably overthinking it.

[Sober Edit: it was Godzilla Raids Again]

——————————————

*GASP* HOLY SIHIIIT!!! The axe is made out of Godzilla skute!?!?! GOLY BALLS THAT’S NOT ONLY COOL BUT CONTRIBUTES MORE TO THE FACT THAT THESE KAIJU (likely Kong’s species, in particular) WERE REALLY FUCKING INTELLIGENT AMD TJOUGHT, “Imma beat this muthafucka with their own spiky thing! Bc that’s what screws us over, so, why WOULD’nt it hurt them!?!” I need SO MUCH MORE of this Kaiju/Kong culture studied and shit! HOLY FUCK!!!

It even fucking glows!! Like ... they managed to fucking piece together that its glow was a fucking warning sign like Sting or some shit!!!! Holy fuck!!!!

Also, how does that work? How are the skutes still connected even after dismemberment???

 ——————————————

NO FUCKIN WAY WRE YOU—AAAAAAAAHHH!!! Excalibur that shit my boi!!!!

——————————————

I FUCKIN LOVE YHIS MOVIE HOLY SHIT!!!

——————————————

“ that’s Apex property now,”

Excuse me bitch! Are we really not gonna listen to the scientist who saying “hey we don’t understand the shit out of this fucking power! Maybe we should hold off on taking some fucking samples!”

Are we really just gonna ignore that shit???????

 ——————————————

Kong said: TRY ME BITCH!!!!

——————————————

Oh thank the GODS this Serizawa dude is taking precautions like his old man! Also, what is his relation to Ken Watanabe’s Serizawa!?!?!

——————————————

UH OH!! SOLDIER DUDES GETTIN ATE!!!

——————————————

OH SHIT!!! PILOT JUST GOT ATE!!! FUCKIN DRAGON BASEMENT UP IN THIS SHIT!!!

——————————————

BITCH YOU REALLY GON THROW A ROCK AT IT!!! FUCKIN NONSENSE OF THIS BITCH!!!

——————————————

LOVE AND FITE ME ENERGY IS STORED IN THE ATOMIC BREATH

——————————————

“Shoot him!”

WHY!!!???!! He literally had NO problem with you before then!!!

——————————————

Why does white man who don’t know anything about this vehicle suddenly know how to pilot this shit!???!?!!!!!

 ——————————————

Y’all love had SO MUCH wine!

——————————————

The FUCK this dude got a flip flop phone for!!!?!????!!!?

Da fuq!?!?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 yeah that’s the most unrealistic part of this entire fucking movie! Not the fuckin Kaiju robots. Not the fucking hollow earth bullshit! The fucking flip phone! LMFAO!!!!

——————————————

“Maintenance! I’M MAINTENANCE!!! This bitch ain’t buying it”

That made me laugh WAY FUCKIN harder that it should have!!!!

——————————————

Y’all really ganna try to shoot at a kid!?! REALLY!?!?!??!

——————————————

GAWD, I’m so glad I impulse bought these oatmeal bites from Dominos! 🤤😋

[Sober Edit: I have no idea how my autocorrect managed to convert “Parmesan” to “oatmeal,” but okay! 😆😅]

——————————————

Kong be like, “Hey, bitch!!! You lookin’ for me!?!?”

——————————————

Find you a partner that bites your neck like Godzilla does! Lmao!

Sorry, I’ll be crawling back into my hell hole, now.

——————————————

EAT YOUR FOOKIN VEGETABLES GODZILLA!!!!!

——————————————

Did Godzilla just axe throw with his fuckin teefs!!!????!?!?!

——————————————

THIS IS THE FOOKIN MONSTER VS MONSTER FIGHTS IVE BEEN CRAVING SINCE KING OF THE MONSTERS HOLY SHIT!!!!

——————————————

“Really? Groupies, again?”

First of all, again!?! What happened last time???

Secondly, where tf are YOUR grpupies, asshole! No need to judge! Ya cunt!

——————————————

“There can only be one alpha,”

Really! You really gotta bring your toxic masculinity into a fuckin monster fight, my dude!?!

——————————————

Kong said, “Yeet! YEET SELF!!!”

——————————————

I am living for the feral fight scenes!!!!

——————————————

Kong’s expression , tho! 🤣🤣🤣

Like, “Can you ducking NOT, Godzilla?!? Can you, like, fucking chill??!!? Aight, fine! ASDASHKLSDJKLDZJL ADKLKDZDJ!!!!!!”

——————————————

Awwwww! Godzilla let Kong go, bc he knows what it’s like to be the last of his species! 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭

——————————————

“This is how we [...] win!”

Oh, honey, you ‘bout to die! Lmao! 😂

——————————————

Oh god! I knew he was going to use the sign for “coward” at the most inappropriate time! Lmao! At least the Precious Girls is smart enough to know what Dumbass White Man means, lol

——————————————

Oh, thank god we do t see this dumbass in any sequels!

——————————————

Dammit, he escaped!

——————————————

This girl is too good!

——————————————

Did y’all really think you were ganna break into a semi-sentient Mecha-Godzilla by GUESSING ITS FUCKING PASSWORD!!?!?!?!!!!???? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

YEAH!!!! TEAM-UP COMING THROUGH!!!!!

——————————————

“I was hoping to die with adults, but that’s okay,”

🤣🤣🤣

——————————————

“I’VE GOT TO DIE WITB YOU AND SOBER!!?!?!”

GOD, I love this movie!!!!

——————————————

OOOOOOHHHH HOLY SHIT!!!!! 😱😱😱😱😱 He powering up the axe!!!!!

——————————————

YOOOOOO KONG WENT PREDATOR/YOUTJA ON MECHA-GODZILLA’s ASS!!!!

——————————————

Kong said, “I’m done, y’all! Imma take a nap!”

——————————————

“Dad. Uh...Bernie.”

I fucking love Bernie!!! 😂😂😂😂

——————————————

JIA NOOOO!!! Don’t go running between two disgruntled Kaiju bby!!

——————————————

Yo, why do monsters have less toxic masculinity than we do??? Lol!

——————————————

Yaaaaaay! Kong has a new home!!

——————————————

WELP!!! I fucking loved this movie, and I highly recommend it to everyone!!!

[mingot-studios]

Things currently polluting my mind (will be added to as i think of things)

 How bad the Star vs. Finale was, and weather i should even bother trying to watch the show again at this point

The fact that the next JoJolion chapter is coming out soon and I STILL haven’t read 107 with my mom even though I’ve already read it

Not being caught up on One Piece and having 0 IDEA of whats happening at this poin as well starting to flaws with the series (racism, transphobia, and homophobia) that i knew was there but chose to ignore and weather it should hinder my relationship with the series. Also wanting to murder Oda for demoting Franky to ‘Pervy Grandma’ (srsly wtf oda)

Upset Infinity Train was cancelled even though i never watched it, and wonder why the fans cry for it to come is suddenly not happening?

The fact i’m going to be returning to in person schooling which is my personal HELL

my brother leaving for college upstate (Me and my brother have never really been that close, we fight alot but I cant imagine life without him)

The fact that my procrastination has gotten so bad that I nearly had to retake PE, World History, and English

The Owl House coming back on the 12th but i had downloaded the first 2 episodes but haven’t watched them and debating if i should, also having a meltdown  over Disney screwing the show over and having its third be 3 or 4 (i cant remember) 44-minute specials

The fact that me and brother STILL haven’t finished our Yume 2kki Let’s Play

I haven’t been watching anime regularly with my mom

I haven’t posted anything to my DeviantArt or YouTube in months

I have so much energy right now but no outlets

I still haven’t tried out my drawing pad i got for my birthday last year

I have so many drawing ideas but my spiral sketchpad is filled up and I have yet to get a new one

Ive many intricit and detailed story ideas that i know im gonna forget if i dont write them down bu due my procrastination i haven’t done so im prolly gonna lose everything

The fact Thurston Waffles hasn’t posted anything since late April as well as the fact that he’s got Kidney problems

So many ideas for videos but I only have WindowsMovieMaker and the HumbleBundle my mom got me idk YEARS ago won’t install

I’m gonna be 17 at the end of September, which i only have until next June before I graduate High school, have to give up my Chromebook, start thinking about college and getting a job, possibly moving out and living on my own, the knowledge that my parents are in their late 50′s and early 60′s so hey might be gone sooner than most parents and I dont know how to function without my parents doing everything for me

These weird tingles ive been getting in my body for he pas couple days

The fact that im not gonna a kid soon and im gonna have to grow and stop doing whatever i want whenever i want and i’m gonna never accomplish my dream of creating a successful cartoon and will probably end up at a dead end job I HATE just to make ends meet and eventually dying alone because I dont wanna be in a relationship or have kids

Everything is too overwhelming. The light, the sound, my thoughts, its all too much. I wanna curl up into a tiny ball and disappear from this awful experience called life

Capitalism

i hate being so passionately when i’m upset, everyone else is calm but i have meltdowns and freaks outs over things i shouldn’t even care about or are miniscule (Comes with being autistic i guess)

I have 0 patience and i hate it

I’m starting to regress back to being a childish brat after all the progress i’ve made

i’m constantly surrounded by either criticism or praise that contradict each other so i dont know what to believe about myself

the fact that i have so many great story ideas but i cant write a cohernt thought with proper grammer or sytax or spelling o save my life, nor the art skill or the patience or the tech to draw comics

i haven seen my therapist in days and i need help but i know im not actually gonna change 

having gender panic

I have no in person friends and ive forgotten how to interact with people

ive become a noodle limbed nerd

Ive gotten super skinny

I want someone o break through my shell and help me change bu I know thats just a fantasy and im the only one who can do that but im too lazy to put effort into it

everything i used to enjoy suddenly feels tedious monotonous repetitive and uninteresting

I feel trapped and scraed 

The fact after being bulied so much the only way i can really assert myself is to get violent and angry because they would want me breakdown and cry

I have this image in my head of who i want to be; And badass that people including adults, are scared of and know not to fuck with me or they’ll get hurt (Basically Jotaro, bu I’ve had this image since before i even knew what jojo was) And the fact I KNOW that i’s a pointless endever and that i only dig my own grave when i get mad but its like ingrained Branded into my my psyche so im always going to larp that vision of myself but not get anywhere and only regress further

I want to address my problems and change but I never do and stay static and regress

I cant take crticisim even though i know its true

The reason im so scared of writing fanfiction is because i know its gonna be a mess despite what i think is a great story and people will end up mocking it and what little self confidence i have will shatter

Star Vs wasted potential

the fact that I dont know where to take the whole “Rubi dies at the  end of he first season but comes back o life except she’s not actually she’s just a walking meat sack containing an anchint eldritch god that will, sooner or later, burst out of her and destroy her body, and she’s fighting for control of her ow body due to Skarlotus trying to devor her soul and Data’s medience is only delaying the inevitable” storyline of my concept cartoon, The Crypto Club

I have an AMAZING idea for an Invader Zim storyline that has fascism, rascism, mass genocide, child soldiers, political intrigue, propaganda, baiscally space hitler and more (okay that came out sound REALLY bad, but NONE of it painted as good!) It also involves Zim and Dib coming together to stop an even bigger threat and there is a really ironic ending that brings my OC GA83′s story full circle

[railmerosalie]

I found this one in the drafts from ages ago

What people are like in my DR: Marauders edition

Sirius:

the cheekiest mother fucker I've ever met. I didn't expect him to be as kind as he was, like this man is like a rock to me. Gives 10/10 hugs. Only down side is that he dates a new chick like every week and when he dumps them they start to resent the whole group, one tried to push me down some stairs. When hes drunk he will either be the human equivalent of a puppy or a sad horny bitch, oh yeah he's a mild alcoholic.

Remus:

I mean he's my twin brother so apart from him policing my every movement, friendship and relationship I guess he's okay ?? Won't let me date anyone and is way too overprotective. Has a solid jumper collection which i steal. Mum and dads favourite and overal nerd, would die for him though. Can't control his liquor and its kinda sweet, Sirius stays with him to make sure he's okay. He reads a bit too much Jane Austin. Has sooo many chicks after him but just never notices them.

James:

Shares on braincell with Sirius and another one with his dick. I mean we have this whole enemies to lovers storyline going on rn. His personality is just, quiddich, friends and being an arrogant bustard. Cares lot about his friends and studies. Is actually quite cute when he stops talking. Gives really nice hugs, softer than Sirius but more firm. Listens to Fleetwood mac and the Beatles on a loop (me too lmao). Will buy you a hot chocolate or a butter beer if you ask.

Peter:

Rat man who i hate. Is sexist, I tried to punch him after he said women were too sensitive to play quidditch as we might cry if the balls come near us, Sirius had to carry me out of the dorm. Smells like hay thats been left in the rain.

Marlene:

My actual wife who i would die for. Very artistic and will probably draw you when she's bored. Best drinking buddie anyone can ask for. Honestly I want to date her so bad but it'll muddy up the James plot line. Is such a softy who gives the best cuddles. Has an attitude problem but I low-key love it. Smells like cranberries, vanilla and maple. I can't describe how much I love her. Really good at charms, she can do pretty much anything she puts her mind to.

Lily:

She doesn't like me because I'm opinionated??? Honeslty idk why she doesn't like me, all of our mates don't get it either. She's really sweet with Rem so I can't really fault her for that. I wanna be closer with her but at this point I'm not sure if it will work out

Snape:

A fucking incel that smells like bleach and toothpaste. Legit the worst human I've met so far, sexist, racist and homophobic to tick off some. He sent me to the hospital wing and I nearly died so fuck you Snape!!!!! I got him back tho.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read Into Me Chapter 3: The Scarlet Letter

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Word Count: 4,420

Warnings: Bad grades, swearing, anxiety, bullying

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @bajino-in-the-hole @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @t0rmenta0​ @10blurredsmoke10 @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995​ @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​

Steve arrived first to Mr. Lawrence’s homeroom, his paper shoved to the back of his notebook. He was happy to have the distraction of Vicki and Tina jabbering at him. He didn’t want to think about his paper. English wasn’t his best subject, but he could hide it from his peers when it was just the teacher and him going back and forth on essays, him writing and them marking. Now, somebody was going to know that he wasn’t good at this. Nancy knew, of course, and while she didn’t say it she always seemed a bit judgemental over his lack of essay writing skill. She was good at everything; it made him feel like he was in good hands when they were together, like they both had something to offer. Apart, it made him feel stupid and secondary, like he was awful at everything. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know what he had even offered to that relationship, looking back he couldn’t understand why he thought he was worth anything in a relationship at all.

When he sat down, the desk next to him was empty. Steve wasn’t usually early to class, so he was a bit relieved to not see you there. Maybe he could avoid the eminent roasting of his work.

You got to school late. You were absolutely drenched from head to toe. You had walked to school that day, and a sudden rainstorm hit you halfway through, soaking you before you could make it to the building. To make it worse, you’d decided to wear white for the first time in forever. You rushed to your locker in the hopes to change and luckily you’d left a stained sweatshirt there from the previous semester. You’d pushed your wet hair up and away from your face and rubbed away the bits of black eyeliner that had flaked down you cheeks. You looked like shit and you knew it. It was turning into a less than successful morning. You hadn’t even had a chance to look in your locker mirror once you’d changed. You were already late enough for class and didn’t need the write up. You rushed to your English class.

Everyone turned their attention to the doorway when you opened it. You hurried to your desk, keeping your head down and ignoring as Vicki and Tina laughed. You heard Tina say “She looks like a drowned rat.” But you chose to pretend that you didn’t. You were freezing; Hawkins High turned off the heating system mid-March and left the school to stew in whatever weather the state was dealing with to save the county a few bucks a month.

Steve slid his paper onto your desk, keeping his eye on the front of the room as Mr. Lawrence took up attendance. He’d written on the board in chalk ‘how to peer edit’ in thick block letters. You weren’t exactly enthused by the topic, but you were glad to have the dull class to doodle instead of actually listening. You flipped the paper in front of you, looking over Steve’s chicken scratch without really taking in any of the information. You slid it into your trapper keeper, passing Steve your own typed copy of the assignment. You’d made sure to keep the original at home, edited just in case Steve didn’t give you any edits. You left in some mistakes so he could get a grade, but you didn’t want to have to rely solely on him.

You flipped open your sketchpad slowly, keeping your eye on Tracy Lords curly mess of hair piled high on the top of her head like Medusa’s snakes trapped in a golden laurel, or in this case a braided headband. You pulled your graphite pencil from the pink pencil bag you’d sewn in freshman year home-ec. You started with the shape, trying to capture the exact strangeness pile, making little tight curls in the centre of the oval and spiralling in all directions. You felt a pair of eyes on your neck and you turned to see Steve staring over your shoulder. You pulled yourself and the pad inward, trying not to blush. You didn’t like people looking at your art; you hardly showed your work to anyone, even Samantha. All of your drawings sat in their pads, which piled up as the years went by, untouched and forgotten. If Samantha wasn’t allowed to see the pictures of her, Steve Harrington was certainly not allowed a peak.

“Alright, today if you and your partner are ready to begin, we’ll start editing our papers. If you aren’t ready, that’s fine but today is the only day that we’re doing in class editing so I would spend today trying to finish up so you can at least pass your papers on.” Mr. Lawrence explained. You sighed, closing your pad and pulling Steve’s essay from your trapper keeper.

“Now, we want to look for not only spelling and grammar problems, but also sentences that don’t make sense and confusing details within the essay. It’s not about how many big words you can use, it’s if you can accurately and dynamically give your reader information.” Mr. Lawrence explained. He took to the board, writing key points for his marking, specifically to edit in pen and give a letter grade for the paper.

Tina’s hand shot up “You want us to grade the paper? Isn’t that your job?” she asked, smacking her gum violently. Vicki snickered into her palm, reddish brown hair away from her face.

Mr. Lawrence shook his head “No no, I’m not taking your grade on the papers into consideration for my grade, instead I want us to give each other grades to mark the progress of an essay, to give your partner an idea of what the paper might be worth. It’ll be up to them as to whether or not they are comfortable with the grade or if they want to improve.”

You didn’t like that. Who the hell wanted their classmate grading their paper? This was a recipe for disaster. You uncapped your red pen with your teeth, chewing on the lid nervously. You looked over the page. You had made up your mind that you’d be nice. You’d want Steve to be nice to you. It was the least you could do.

But it only took a few lines to understand that this was not a good paper. Spelling and grammar mistakes galore, run on, confusing sentences, no clear subject. It wasn’t even a good story, hell it wasn’t even an essay it came off more like a point form list. As you added more and more red ink to the black, white, and blue it started as. The paper started to become a Jackson Pollack more than a lame essay for an English class, it almost felt beautiful instead of shitty to destroy his essay. It was as though you were turning into art.

Out of curiosity, you looked over at your paper to see how it was fairing. Steve was, as expected, chatting up Vicki from across the aisle, and he’d made two corrections on your page, both small mistakes you’d left in. You rolled your eyes, a pit of annoyance making itself known in the centre of your stomach, as bitter as the cyanide in a peach pit. You made your last two corrects before scrawling a large ‘D’ at the top of the page and initialling next to it.  

You flipped the paper over and pulled back out your sketchpad and brought it close to your chest, pulling your knee up to your chest and adding more curls to the back of Tracy Lords’ head, then focusing in on the braided headband until the bell rang. You flipped your pad closed and slid Steve’s essay back to him, quickly putting your stuff away.

“You mind if I take this home and give it to you tomorrow?” Steve asked, waving your essay in front of your face, nearly giving you a paper cut on the bridge of your nose.

You pushed the paper away, squinting up at him. “Yeah, whatever…” you replied, turning away from. You didn’t feel bad for giving him a bad grade now. He was still a dick head. “Don’t forget your paper.” You added, quickly making your way into the halls. You didn’t usually have the confidence to be snarky with anyone you didn’t trust, but something told you that you could handle Steve Harrington. Maybe it was just how awful his essay was, you felt like you could talk your way out of a fight.

Samantha grabbed your arm as you left the room, the pair of you thankful to have the same lunch period every other day. You hurried into the cafeteria. You knew well enough that she was on the prowl, eyes scanning the room for a certain figure.

“I think the band’s practising today, dude.” You said, taking an extra tray for Samantha and getting her serving of lumpy mashed potatoes and chicken surprise slopped on the plate. Samantha was looking for Robin Buckley, a junior on her soccer team who had drawn her attention as of late, and had been trying to get closer to her as of late, inviting her to join them for lunch every time she saw her and leaving you to third wheel.

“Yeah, probably.” She replied, taking the tray you held out for her and paid for her meal. “So, how’d talking sweet, sexy assignments with King Harrington?” Samantha crooned, batting her eyelashes up at you.

You rolled your eyes “Well, for one, we don’t talk period, and for another it’s fucking awful.” Taking your places at the table closest to the emergency exit, you settled into your routine of trying to choke down the awful cafeteria food. You grabbed your trays and had them filled with whatever horrific concoction the lunch ladies had come up with that day. You carried your grey and brown mushy mess to your table, a small four seater near the edge of the room, out of view from the popular assholes who liked the throw food.

“Oh? Is that what makes it awful? Not getting to enjoy the charming conversations he has to offer?” Samantha was trying hard not to laugh. Watching you squirm was hilarious.

“More like because I have to read his writing…” you replied. You jabbed your fork into what was supposed to be pot roast, but seemed to be ninety percent instant gravy and ten percent meat from an undetermined animal.

“Since when are you such a snob?” Samantha’s mouth was full of mashed potatoes, but the words rang clear.

“Since I spent my morning reading absolute dog shit about a vacation to Miami beach. It was pathetic! I mean, and I’m no critic, but if you’re going to write me an essay on your vacation, can you at least make it interesting?” you ranted. The more you talked about how awful it was the angrier you got about it. You spent so long on art and creating, you spent your time working hard and for someone to slide through life made your blood boil.

Steve didn’t usually spend his free time searching through the cafeteria for people, people usually found him. Tommy and Carol had already motioned him over, their new friend Billy already gone somewhere else, and Vicki and Tina had called for him to join them, but Steve had to handle something first. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, he wasn’t certain he’d find it in there, but there wasn’t any shame in searching. He would ask someone for directions, but it seemed that nobody knew or cared where you were at any time.

You gave him a ‘D’. A god damned ‘D’! He was flummoxed, he thought his essay was shit, he wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t, but he had expected you to be a bit kinder. That was like the unexpected rule of everyone in the class, to grade on the curve. But you went in hard. All he wanted was some answers.

He saw first a flash of pencil stained hands in the air, then the shine of your hair under the florescent lights. You were talking with your hands, making Samantha Cameron laugh hard. He’d never seen you that animated, it made him smile for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

He chuckled, coming up behind you in the hopes that your ease would stick around if he didn’t announce his presence. “You really gave me a D on my paper? What did I do to deserve that?” he asked.

Apparently, you really couldn’t smile when he was around. Both you and Samantha’s smiles dropped, your punky friend dropping her gaze as you were forced to turn around. “Oh…um…well I mean it…maybe I need to look it over again, I was probably being too harsh…” you stuttered, unable to keep yourself from burning up.  You prayed that he hadn’t heard what you were saying. That would’ve been awful.

“Hey, it’s cool, the paper’s no good, it’s no big deal.” That was a lie of sorts, when Steve saw the big red ‘D’, his heart dropped. And he really didn’t believe that you were as innocent as you seemed. You seemed guilty over something.

“Well…I’m sorry anyway. I didn’t mean to bother you…” you apologized. You hoped he’d go away; you’d never been more uncomfortable around a person than Steve Harrington. You didn’t know why, but something about him made gave you more butterflies than other people did, he scared you for reasons you couldn’t quite understand.

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry.” Steve chuckled awkwardly. You wouldn’t look him in the eye, it was throwing him off. “So, listen, I don’t want to fail this class,” he huffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck “Could you maybe help me rewrite this thing?”

You looked to Samantha, unsure if you could even speak words anymore, but she was smirking into her pot roast. Absolutely no help at all. You tried to smile “Um…sure, I can’t promise I’ll be much help though…” your voice was hoarse and unsure of itself. You hated that you’d said yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. What if he got mad? Or yelled at you? You couldn’t handle being ridiculed or yelled at, you’d die.

Steve chuckled “Any help I can get is good enough. I can meet you in the library after school, okay?” he said, turning his gaze to Tommy’s hollering from across the cafeteria. He waved him over with both hands, like a sailor on a sinking ship, trying to beckon Steve back to where he belonged. Steve nodded, holding up his index finger, he only needed one minute.

“Sure, yeah that’ll work.” You said, fiddling with a thread hanging from the edge of your grey sweatshirt. You’d painted a little pink flower on the inside of the sleeve. When Steve saw it, he couldn’t help but smile at it; it looked so sweet and earnest.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” He left after that, heading over to Tommy, who was frustrated beyond belief. He took his seat easily, stealing the pudding cup off of Carol’s tray wordlessly.

“What did that freak want?” Tommy asked loudly, his eyes blown wide. Carol was painting her nails, not even bothering to look up from her work. Tommy made no attempts to hide his dislike of you. He’d expected his best friend since the second grade to feel the same.

“She’s nice, we’re doing an assignment together.” Steve replied with a shrug, pulling the plastic covering off the cup, sticking the plastic spoon into the vanilla pudding.

Across the room, Samantha grabbed onto your hands with a giddy grin. “Look at my little girl! She’s got plans, with a boy!” she squealed, swinging your arms back and forth over the table.

“Jesus, can you please stop acting so straight? You’re gonna scare Robin off.” You yanked your hands away, watching with a grin as she turned her attention back to looking around the room excitedly. You let your eyes find Steve in the cafeteria, the buzz of fear filling your ears. You couldn’t believe that you agreed to meet him anywhere. You wanted to disappear.

You couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Your mind had gone into a feral sort of panic mode, pumping fear through your veins and turning your palms cold. When the final bell rang, it took all your strength and courage to not run all the way home. You knew that if you didn’t show, the problem wouldn’t go away. You’d just have to deal with the results of ditching the next day, and if not done now, then you’d have to deal with it another day. You clutched your books tight to your chest, sitting on the bench outside the library, trying to keep the butterflies from bursting out of your mouth. Your hands kept coming to your hair, trying to fix it or keep it away from your ears, maybe just to comfort yourself. It had dried weird and you worried that it looked ridiculous.

You saw his shoes come up to yours before you saw his face, royal blue Adidas with white and red details and dirty laces. You noted your own dirty white Converse, marked with mud and lyrics to songs that Samantha wrote on the toes. “Hey, you ready to do this?” Steve asked. You looked up and nodded, swallowing hard.

You wouldn’t make eye contact with him again. It was really starting to freak him out. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but it seemed like you really didn’t like him. Still, you’d agreed to help him and he wouldn’t take that for granted. He’d read your essay twice and it was good. He didn’t know much about good writing, but he knew that Mr. Lawrence would like it, that it would get a good grade. And he wanted decent grades too, so he could get into college and get his dad off his back.

The Hawkins High library was fairly quiet after school, most students headed back home or to after school clubs.  Only a few stragglers remained, mostly using electric typewriters and returning books to poor Mrs. Mueller, who always kept the library open till four, waiting for her husband, the head of custodial staff, to finish his work. She smiled at you when you walked in. Mrs. Mueller was a nice woman who let you sit in the library during lunch and always checked in on you when you seemed alone. She was your favourite teacher, despite never having a class taught by her.

Steve chose a table in the dead centre of the room, dropping his blue bag on the wooden chair next to him and pulling out his papers. You carefully followed suite, folding your hands in your lap, unsure what to do with them. Steve smiled at you, sliding the essay towards you “So, what am I doing wrong?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, unsure where to begin. You picked up the paper, and then open your notebook, writing down everything the story seemed to be about. Steve watched you, utterly confused.  Once you had every down, you set down your pen. “Okay,” you didn’t look up from your paper, sliding the essay to the middle of the table. “Tell me what your paper is about.”

“What? You read it, you should know.” Steve laughed awkwardly.

“Humour me.” You replied, looking up slowly to meet his eye. Steve’s smiled dropped, looking at you for a second. You broke eye contact first, but he wished he had been able to hold it for a moment longer.

“Okay, well,” he took a deep breath “I wrote about my family’s trip to our cottage on Miami Beach, and I talked about what I did. Nothing much.”

“Okay, because what you actually wrote isn’t really about that. What you told me is that you went to Miami Beach, your parents own a dirty beach house that was your grandparent’s house and that they’re both dead, that your grandfather fought in World War Two and that the medals were framed in the house, that you met a girl on the beach but she didn’t like you, and that the flight was long.” You explained. You still couldn’t believe that he’d fit all of that into a page of work.

“So?” Steve asked. That was all true of his last trip. Mind you, that was way back in middle school and the details were hazy.

“So, that’s a lot of information that I don’t care about. You can cut all of the stuff about your grandparents, which takes up like half of it. And when you cut that, all I know is that the beach house is in Miami Beach and you met a girl and the flight was long. That’s not bad, but I’d like to know a bit more about it.” You said, taking back the essay from the middle of the page and crossed out every line about his grandparents.

“What do I say instead then?” Steve asked, watching as you crossed out half his page, trying not to sound defeated. You were basically saying that he had to start all over again.

“Well, tell me about the beach? Pretend like I’ve never been. What’s there to do, what’d you like about it?” you shrugged. You found yourself feeling a tad bit calmer; the butterflies had calmed their intense flapping and had let you breathe.

Steve sighed “I don’t know, I’m just bullshitting.”

“What’d you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, I didn’t go on there, I haven’t been to our beach house since I was a kid.” Steve looked away. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a lie, even more knowing that now he’d have to rewrite his whole paper.

“Oh…what’d you actually do on your break?” you hadn’t expected him to be lying about anything, a snow bird spring break trip sounded about right for his family, they were always bragging about their money.

Steve chuckled “Oh no, nothing worth writing an essay on.” You looked up at him again. He seemed a bit sad. You pulled another sheet of paper from your trapper keeper, setting it overtop the last one.

“Tell me about it.” You smiled at him despite yourself. He was bit easier to talk to than you’d imagined.

Steve swallowed, nodding despite himself. “Well, I mean my parents went to the beach house and I tried to throw a party, you probably heard about how that went.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“No…” you shook your head. Steve wasn’t expecting that. Everyone had heard about the failed party, he’d gotten shit about it for weeks.

“Well, I couldn’t get any supplies, so I cancelled and hung out with Tommy and Carol instead. We got drunk in my backyard and Carol fell in the pool. She was so pissed. Then, I pretty much just hung about town, helped my buddy Dustin beat Dragon’s Lair at the arcade.” Steve didn’t really like admitting how lame his life was, he purposefully left out how Tommy and Carol only hung out with him when he went to pick up some weed from his older brother and they wanted a hit off it. Admitting that his life wasn’t that great made him feel small and like it was out of his control, which was not exactly a good feeling.

“Okay, tell me about the little party you had with Tommy and Carol. What was the night like? Was it fun? Did you jump in the pool too or did you watch her fall and laugh?” You had written down the few details in a bubble tree and added more details as he explained his time more thoroughly. You managed to get a bit more information on both events, learning more about his friend Dustin and the game they played.

When he was finished, you slid the page over to him. He took it, eyebrow raised in confusion, but you spoke before he could ask any questions. “This is your blue print. I wrote down everything you told me; now just turn it into an essay. The whole trick about these assignments is that you’re telling a story, and to make it interesting you have to give us details, and not about your grandparents or other things that don’t add to the story at hand, about what actually was happening.” You explained, checking the plastic watch on your wrist. It was almost four and Mrs. Mueller had already passed your table twice, her silent warning to leave. Everyone else who had been there had long left and you became very aware of how alone you were with him. The butterflies started their flapping again, churning tides in your stomach.

Steve smiled “Okay, I promise it’ll be interesting though.” He chuckled.

You shrugged “I promise that it’s more interesting than what you had before.” You shoved your papers into your bag, standing quickly “If you want me to look at it again before you hand it in, just bring it to me in class, alright? The library’s closing so I should go.”

“You want a ride home?” you spun around to look at him, crossing your arms over your paint splattered sweatshirt. The rain storm of the morning was long forgotten and you didn’t know what the weather looked like now. A part of you wanted to take the ride, but a much bigger part of you told you to run away.

You shook your head “No, um my friend Samantha said she’d drive me after her soccer practise, she’s probably waiting for me.” You lied straight through your teeth, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.

“Oh…sure, yeah, I’ll see you around.” Steve stood slowly, tucking in his chair. You waved politely and headed out. The rain had stopped, thank god, and you rushed to your locker, grabbing your wet clothes from your locker before making your way outside. The field was muddy, practise was probably cancelled. You took the long way home that afternoon, cutting through the woods and the muddy park to avoid being spotted by Harrington on the way and getting caught in a lie.

The afternoon had gone well. And that scared the shit out of you.

[cal-puddies]

the blow job || poly!lashton

idk where this came from but its here... let me know if you'd like more.

Poly! Lashton: the blow job || daddy’s home || cream pie || take the pleasure, take it with the pain || all at once this is enough || caught in between || take my heart, hit the back || daddy issues || needy || only you know the way that I break || picked all my weeds but kept the flowers

You sit huddled on the couch with Luke, as you’d done for most of the day. Ash walks in, “Hey babes.” He greets, leaning over to kiss you softly on the lips, he smooths the hair on your head as he pecks Luke’s lips. “How was your day?” He asks, sitting in the chair that slightly faces you and Luke.

“It was pretty low key. This one still had that headache from last night so kept it pretty meh.” Luke responds for both of you. “I did laundry and dishes and let her sleep it off.” He shrugs.

The relationship isn’t complicated to the three of you, but you know others wouldn’t understand it. Ash was daddy, always. He worked hard to take care of you and Luke in every way, and he always did. Luke would be what one would generally consider a boyfriend. He gave you most of your affection outside of the bedroom and if you were in public, he was always the one holding your hand. If you and Ash went out without Luke, for whatever reason, then Ash was always careful to never touch more than your back. But whether you were in public, or in the bedroom, ash was always daddy. For you and Luke both.

You and Luke share a bed, a decision you’d made long ago, and Ash sleeps alone unless one or both of you are invited to his bed. He doesn’t usually like to split you up because someone’s always moody if he does. And he typically likes sleeping alone.

You and Luke both switch, and sometimes you both just get railed by Ash, but it didn’t matter, you all were happy with how things worked.

“Baby girl, can you come sit with me?” Ash asks. So you get up and cross the space, sitting in Ash’s lap. “How’s your head?” He whispers, pulling you in closer.

Luke’s enthralled in whatever he’s watching so he doesn’t pay either of you any attention.

“Feels better. Just a tough day.” You shrug.

“You look tired. You ok?” He asks, tucking hair behind your ear. He watches you nod and then he pulls you in, kissing on you a little bit. “You sure?” He asks again.

“Yeah daddy, I’m good.” You nod.

Ash gently kisses you and he works to deepen the kiss until it’s a full blown make out session. His hand snakes up under the hoodie You're wearing and he starts to grope you, he knows how much you love having your nipples played with. His thumb swipes over one and he gently pinches and pulls at the tender flesh. He pulls his mouth away enough that your not actively kissing but your lips are still touching. “Moan for me princess.” He whispers, pressing his lips to yours briefly. “Want Luke jealous before you suck me off.”

You whimper when he pinches your other nipple harder, and Luke’s head turns toward you both. He’s intrigued, watching Ash’s hands on your body. Your hoodie is pulled off, leaving you completely bare on top.

“What’s daddy doin, baby girl?” Luke asks.

You don’t respond immediately, and you get your thigh pinched. “Lukey asked you a question.”

“Sorry daddy… Lukey, daddy wants a blow job.” You say, turning your head toward him.

“Well I hope you’re gonna be a good girl and give him one.” Luke smirks.

It doesn’t take long for Ash to get you on your knees in front of him. His shirt comes off and you work at his jeans, and once they’re off, he stops you a second. “Lukey, want you in your underwear, baby boy.” He commands and you hear Luke begin to move. His eyes fall back on you and he nods, letting you know you can get back to work.

You slide your hands up his thighs, and start to tease his cock over his boxers, kissing up his length and then gently licking the head, mouthing the fabric, wetting it.

“Tease.” Ashton breathes. You know he’s had enough and you tuck your fingers into the waist of his underwear and he lifts his hips so you can pull them down.

“Daddy.” Luke murmurs, drawing both of your attention. “Lemme film this. It’s so hot to watch.” He asks, holding up his phone.

“Baby girl is so good with her mouth…” his finger traces your jaw, “and she’s so hot when she gets into it, isn’t she Lukey?” He asks, earning a nod from Luke, “what do you say princess? Can Lukey film us while you suck me off?” He asks, gently holding your jaw now.

You nod, because it’s just for the three of you and you know Luke could get off on it alone for weeks, but he’ll do whatever he can to repay the favor.

“That’s our little princess.” Ash murmurs, nodding at Luke.

And you get back to work with Ash’s hard cock. You lick up the bottom of the shaft, letting it get sloppy with spit the way he likes, and then you grab onto it and start tugging and twisting your hand, spreading the spit, while sucking the head of his cock.

You sense Luke moving closer to you so you slightly turn your head and give him big innocent eyes for the camera. He murmurs a quick ‘fuck’, and ash looks at him. “Everything alright there Lukey?” He smirks devilishly.

If he was honest, it wasn’t, he loved to suck Ash’s cock, hear him moan, taste him, feel the weight of his cock in his mouth, on his tongue, ash’s fingers in his hair, please his daddy. But Ash chose you today. He also really loves your mouth on his cock so the whole thing was spurring jealousy and making him rock hard.  He mumbles ‘yeah’ and palms himself, which can be seen on camera.

“Whatcha doin there baby boy?” Ash asks in a low, gravelly voice and Luke turns his eyes back to him. “Ah fuck.” He inhales sharply as you take more of his cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat without so much as a sound out of you. He presses his hand to the side of your head and his thumb caresses your cheek, “look at me.” He murmurs to you, and you do as you’re told. “So pretty baby.” He hums, smiling at you. “Luke, get your cock out. Let’s see how hard you are.” He smirks in Luke’s direction, already knowing, and tangling his fingers in your hair. Ash gently pulls you off, “watch Lukey, princess.” He whispers. Your hand still works his length as you kiss on this thigh, nibbling and sucking your little marks into his flesh.

Luke sees both of you looking at him intently. He pushes his underwear down and he sees the amused look on Ash’s face as he reveals the red of his cock from how hard he is. Ash motions him over, and he gently toys with Luke’s cock, running his fingers over the shaft. Luke whines a bit. “Daddy.”

“Baby boy gets so hard when you suck me off, Princess.” Ashton murmurs, “you wanna taste his cock too?” He asks, “it’s alright.” He nods, noting you’re hesitation. He watches you reach out and sit up on your knees, Luke steps closer slowly, until he’s close enough that you could easily switch between the two of them.

You handle Luke’s cock differently, placing wet kisses along the shaft to slick him up, before wrapping your lips around the head and slowly tugging the rest of his length. He moans so loud for you, “baby girl.” His fingers slide in your hair too.

Ash gently pulls your hair, pulling you off of Luke, “Gonna take care of both of us?” He asks, and you nod before sinking your mouth down on his cock. “God damn you’re so good on your knees,” he praises. “This will be worth it princess,” He promises.

Luke’s still got the camera rolling, and they both have a hand in your hair, each pulling you back to them when it’s too much to watch you suck on the other. They are both moaning, and both blow jobs are  getting so sloppy. “That’s it baby girl,” Luke grunts. “Daddy… I need to cum.” Luke admits.

Ash pulls your head away from Luke, “not yet, gotta wait till I’m ready so we can paint our princess.” He smirks, then reaches over and stills your hand on Luke’s cock: “just squeeze a little princess, till I say otherwise.”

You go back to work on Ash’s cock. He’s past ever trying to guide you because you know so well what he likes, and he doesn’t mind when you switch it up on him. You can hear Luke whimpering as you slowly pulse your hand around his cock, and you know he’s watching you so intently working on Ash’s cock.

You slide your mouth all the way down and Ash grips tight in your hair, as does Luke, “fuck princess, all the way. What a good girl.” He praises and then grits his teeth as your tongue starts sliding back and forth over his balls. “Oh god.” He groans. Him and Luke both yank your head off His cock, “c’mon on then Luke.” You take that as your cue to drop their cocks and sit while they finish themselves.

Luke cums first, it hits your chest and neck, ash gets it on your chin and tits. And he’s grinning so wide at you. He pulls you in for a kiss, “pretty princess, all messy.” He mumbles against your lips. “Lukey will clean you up, won’t ya baby boy?”

Ash grips under your arms and he switches you spots. He’s on his knees in front of you, you’re sat in the chair. He grabs your thighs and pulls you so your ass is at the edge of the seat and then he pulls a leg over his shoulder. He reaches out and gives Luke a light tap on the butt. “Oh, sorry daddy, baby girl just looks so good.”

“I know she does.” Ash grins up at you, and starts kissing on your thigh, “already so wet.”

And then Ash is licking your clit, and Luke's tongue comes into contact with your breasts, cleaning up Ash’s cum first, he gets another pinch to his thigh and Luke brings his lips up to yours, kissing you and and pushing some of the cum onto your tongue. You moan into his mouth, and one hand goes into his hair and one goes into Ash’s. And it continues that way, Luke cleans up cum and kisses you and Ash continues to eat your pussy. Ash loves all your little whines, your moans of his name, and seeing Luke treat you so well too.

“C’mon baby girl, daddy needs you to cum for him.” He groans, sliding two fingers in and curling them in your g-spot. Your back arches up hard.

“Fuck, daddy.” You moan.

Luke doesn’t need instruction, his lips wrap around one of your nipples, and he teases it. Ash puts his lips and tongue back to your clit and he sucks, while continually curling his fingers into your g-spot. You let go of Luke’s hair in favor of grabbing Ash’s head with both hands. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…” you chant, Luke has to hold your hips when they start to buck against Ashton’s face. And then you’re cumming, Ash withdraws his fingers and gently licks your clit through it. “Holy fuck.” You whimper. “Thank you.

“Such a good girl.” Ash praises, sitting up and pulling Luke into a quick kiss, “good job baby boy.” Then he pulls you into him for another kiss. “I love you two.” Ash murmurs, holding the back of Luke’s head and the side of your neck. “Let’s see what Luke got on the camera, shall we babes?” He asks.

Taglist: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @september09241994 @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @slimthicccal @softboycal @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @therealmrshale

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

[ziracona]

hey zira, what are your hot takes on all of the fo4 companions?

Haha, I don’t know how hot they are, but I can give you a speed run! (Also I am very excited to get this. FO4 was the first open world game I ever played and just the concept of that and the hugeness of the world and branching story & sudden feeling changes towards me in companion characters totally blew my mind, & it still lives rent free in my heart).

Ada, Old Longfellow, and Strong I /still/ haven’t maxed despite having too many hundred hours to want to list on this game—the former bc they were DLC, Strong because honest to god I left him at a nice settlement and then completely forgot about him and remembering that I am the energy in this Ryan O’Flanagan video but abt leaving my super mutant in a tiny settlement alone. I will get there! To max affinity I mean. But anyway, I don’t truly know those three, so my takes are incomplete. So far though, I really like Ada. She is a good girl just trying her best. Fucks me up I can tell her to self destruct. Even though I feel sure she would ignore me, I cannot imagine ever saying that to her. It was really sweet she was willing to forgive the Mechanist and move on with her life. A good girl. Longfellow I am maxing rn (was last time I played anyhow). I enjoy him. Gruff grumpy old man but he seems quite decent and I like his idle banter and when he sings to himself a lot. Seems like he’s had it rough. Strong I liked. He’s wild, and I loved how insane meeting him was, and am worried about him eventually understanding poetry and how that might mess up his sense of world understanding. But he��s a chill dude in his own way and I am glad they gave us at least one nice super mutant.

For the companions I actually do know like the back of my hand, the speedrun:

Nick Valentine: Best man on earth. One of two fictional characters I ever called husband. I would die kill or live for him. I want to be 1/4th the man Nick Valentine is. One of the best characters ever period and I adore literally everything about him. It fucked me up early in game where right after he offered to basically risk destroying his mind to help a stranger look for her son, he asked me how I was doing. First character in the entire game to do that. His first companion dialogue is abt how you’re doing TuT. The man is very kind and forgiving and fair, but knows when the draw the line and take no shit. Emotionally mature, kind, caring, longsuffering. Incredibly damaged and broken by life, but holding on and living kindly and to help others anyway. One of the four most marryablen fictional men I’ve ever seen.

Preston Garvey: Brave, kind, sweet man. I would defend him with my life. He really just wants so bad to make the world better and life has been so hard, but he’s still trying. A beautiful and underrated companion and I would throw hands for him on sight. I adore how he whistles. A true and gentle and loyal friend. Take him to Quincy and let him get his justice it’s what he deserves. People who hate him because he tries to get help helping civilians in that game are weak. I love him so much... please give him enough time to reach max affinity he’s so worth it.

Deacon: *To the tune of You Are My Dad* You are my friiiiend! You’re my friend! (Boogie woogie woogie). Initially, he pissed me off bc he lies all the god damn time, but after we got close enough he actually trusted me, he stole my heart and I would also die for Deacon. He’s a really good person who thinks he’s shit because of who he was on his past. Also him 🤝 Preston: massive survivor’s guilt. They should be friends. Poor Deacon has been the last member of the Railroad like four times, and it’s awful. Help him. Give him love and support. He’s one of my all time faves. Also, Railroad hands down best faction and if you kill them for any reason other than like a walkthrough route video and I ever get the chance I would 100% clock you in the face as hard as I can, like going for losing teeth, and feel no guilt. I know it’s a game and that’s wrong, and I’d be wrong, but I’d still do it. Also, Ryan Alosio (his VA) saw me do cosplay for Deacon once and told me it was great and it filled me with even more love. Anyway Deacon is great. Also, his whole “There are other organisations out there. And, in time, I'm sure they're going to spoon-feed you their own patented form of bullshit. Ignore the verbage and look at what they're doing. What they're asking you to do. What sort of world they'd have you build and how they're going to pay for it.” Is one of the like, two most iconic quotes in all of FO4 & just super good in general.

Hancock: Hardcore badass man but also a good dude and a champion for the people. Man really puts his money where his mouth is and you gotta respect that; another favorite companion for sure. Big fan of the way he stabs a guy for you upon meeting, and is a cool leader who organized his crime and does a decent job actually leading. He works hard to help people and bites back hard. Social justice advocate, dangerous man about town, not afraid to cosplay a revolutionary war hero 24/7 & u gotta respect the no fucks given attitude. A chill dude. Like that he fights the institute, hates the Brotherhood, helps the Railroad, and is friends with Nick. He’s legit af. Also, his VA gives a different answer every time someone asks him about the voice he did for hancock and they’re funny af.

Piper Wright: A cool spunky lady. Lois Lane on the case, kicking butt, and taking name. She’s nice but also hardcore and smart, supportive, fun. A good person. You always get points if you like Nick (which most companions do), and they’re good friends. She’s funny and I love her. A good heart.

Codsworth: He’s great. He’s family. He’s like my...weird brother. Getting to max affinity is heartwarming and also makes my heart go :’-] . Great early-game companion bc he kicks ass and doesn’t need stims to heal. I love getting called by my name and think that was a great feature (well, my PC’s name). He’s a wonderful funky little robot dude and I am so glad he likes me.

Dogmeat: Amazing. A good boy. Doggo of the year. His actor deserved the game award she won. Cute, full of love, and plays with a teddy bear if you give him one. 100/10z

Cait: I like her a lot. She’s been through so much shit, and it makes sense she is how she is. I like they actually gave her an emaciated and messy (though still pretty) design, since she is a drug addict. And that they make her main quest about taking that seriously and wanting to get help, and that she’ll call out the player if they fuck around and do drugs in front of her after she gets rehabilitated. Her relationship to the PC if good is really sweet, and I am a fan. I like that while she’s not sympathetic to synths and thinks they aren’t people, she forgets that every time Nick walks into a room and is like “Oh hey Nicky : )”. She’s a good girl who has been through a lot and still needs time to heal and find herself, but she’s making great strides.

Robert Joseph MacCready: Human disaster (loving). Homeboy a goddamn /mess/ but I love him. He tries so hard to be cool. I love he makes you pay him to come with, then chickens out and gives it back lol. A fool ball of anxiety and bad decisions and what he thinks brovado is. I wish he, Preston, and Deacon would quit fighting, bc I am always like “ :’-] </3 Boys Please” when they swap out, but I love them just the same. He’s doing his best, he’s just stupid and a fool. Like Philip J Fry. Keeping his goddamn soldier toy, which somehow is listed as junk instead of sent to Misc with quest items where it would be fine, safe?parylizes me with fear. I’ve lost 2 hours of gameplay reloading an old save bc I accidentally lost it.

X6-88: A more complex one to answer about. He’s bad, but like, I’m pretty sympathetic to how he got that way. He was created in a lab and had his emotions mostly dragged out of him in intense psychologically damaging training so he would be a weapon and view himself as an object. I was relieved he chose me over the institute even if he wasn’t a fan of the chocie, and think that means there’s a lot of hope for him. Wish he’d chill the fuck out and quit intimidating civilians for 6 god damn seconds, but I like him. I bring him fancy lad snack cakes home from travels all the time, bc Synths are supposed to like them. Really like that he’s the /most/ sympathetic companion towards Danse in Blind Betrayal, even though he should not be programmed for that, and Danse hated him and made it clear any time they interacted.

(EDIT) Curie: I FORGOT HER BABY IM SO SORRY. I like Curie a lot, despite the fact I temporarily forgot she existed. I stg I thought she was in here. Uhhh, okay. Curie: like her character and personality, HUGE un-fan of both the way her desire to get a synth body is to be ‘more real,’ as if Codsworth isn’t a fully realized person while the same robot type she is, instead of just like. Because it would make her happy. ALSO hate how much of a Born Sexy Yesterday she is, even intentionally in not-determinate affinity talks. It’s gross. But her herself, I like a lot. She’s my daughter and I will protect her. She works at The Castle right now as their on-site medic.

Paladin Danse: I know I’m gonna take heat for this but honestly? He didn’t do much for me. I like that he looks and sounds kinda like Buzz Lightyear, and that’s fun, but idk at all why people think he’s so hot. He’s very boring & generic looking to me. Like you’re valid! Taste all be different. But he doesn’t do it for me personally in looks or personality. I don’t at all like, hate him. Or even dislike. Tbh I am fairly neutral on him. It was funny making affinity with him though. Every other companion I had maxed, I liked more and more with each affinity talk. They’d be like “So my dad was a minuteman and died and I want to honor him” or “I just want to really feel like I’m a person, for real, myself, and I am glad I met you, because the good we have achieved together is ours, even if I can’t be sure of anything else,” or “My brother threw the cultural minorities out of our city for clout bc the rich citizens were all racist, and I tried to help—I snuck them food to the unsafe ruins they set up in for weeks, but eventually, they just vanished, and I still bear immense guilt and self-hatred over not having stopped that.” And Danae’s would be like “One time a buddy of mine got kidnapped by super mutants. They turned him into one of them, and they’re all abominations, so I killed him and it made me really sad.” And I was just like “...Oh danse. I really wanted to like you more. But what the fuck.” His relationship to Haylen is sweet though. And ofc I saved him in Blind Betrayal. I blew up the Prydwin so he’s safe now too, and he lives in the garden by my house and tells me how glad he is we’re friends, and I’m p into that. Overall, my feelings on him are not strong at all though.

Porter Gage: Not a fan. Like, I appreciated he helped me kill the old boss, sure. And bc I owed him for that, I went to max affinity to see what there was to him as a person. And like, as far as raiders go, he was okay. But he wasn’t deeply sympathetic, and he’s a slaver, and if you try to liberate the slaves he and the others own, he /will/ turn on and attempt to murder you immediately, no matter how close you were, so he made his choice, and it was to be a bad person and an asshole to the last. Really enjoyed the VA’s work a lot on him tho.

And there you have it 👈👈😎. Thanks for asking!