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maybeelse · 3 months ago

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untitled story about embarrassing consequences

Her stomach clenches and she desperately holds her mouth shut, hands clamped tight over her thin surgical mask. Some of the other passengers glance at her; she's breaking public transit's unspoken agreement, drawing attention to herself. It's fucking embarrassing. It's really not helping.

The vomit, when it finally comes bubbling up, is a thousand gooey pearls. They collect in the space between her lips and the mask, spurting out around its edges each time her throat spasms, thick slime insinuating its way through the mask's fibers to stain her hands with filth. Her stomach is tight and insistent; her thighs ache.

Someone starts to say something as the train screeches into a station—she doesn't know which one, it doesn't matter—and disgusted laughter chases her out into the humid summer night. Another spasm hits her before she can get off the platform, and she falls to her knees, her hands braced against the filthy concrete. Her entire body shakes as it rejects its contents; she doesn't hear the train doors close, but she can feel the remaining passengers' eyes on her as it departs.

She really hopes that they can't see how hard she is.

She'd had to yell over the music to be heard, but somehow the low, breathy voice answering her managed to slide directly into her mind—and her nervous system—completely unimpeded. She was six drinks in, a golden haze settling across her thoughts, so this didn't strike her as unusual. Even if she'd been sober she would have overlooked quite a few abnormalities for the attention of the gorgeous woman sitting next to her, matching her drink for drink.

"Melissa, lissa," she rolls the word, "what a pretty name."

"Thanks! Picked it out myself."

"Mmm," her voice was almost wistful as she spoke, each word tugging at something deep inside Melissa. "In beauty's fairest pride / Summer expands her heart so wide / The Sun no more in clouds enshrined / Darts all her glories unconfined …"

"What's that?"

"Nothing, nothing," the woman stretched; Melissa's dilated eyes are anything but respectful. "Just feeling my years."

The bar was too noisy for an awkward silence to linger, too full of jostling, moving bodies, fragrant with sweat and perfume, too drenched with alcohol's golden hues. So Melissa took one last swig of her drink, slammed it down on the bar, and took her shot.

"So d'ya live near here?"

"Oh," a sparkling laugh, a hand on her thigh, "very near. Would you like to see?"

"Fuck yeah!"

The filth clings to Melissa as she stumbles to her feet, unwilling to let go of her. Hot and alive against the scrapes on her hands and knees, cold and slimy where it clings to her skirt's fringes and scatters in stray droplets across her blouse. Somehow it's managed to absolutely saturate her socks; probably her shoes will be a lost cause by the time the night is done. A long, damp walk home awaits her.

She spits. It doesn't help.

"… uh, miss? Are you okay?"

Some guy, the type her eyes skip over when she sees them. Unobjectionable. Dressed for the heat, which isn't a bad look for him at all. A student, maybe, even if he doesn't have the right air of unbroken optimism.

She glares at him. "The fuck do you want?"

"Uh, nothing, I just," he gestures with one hand, holding something. She squints: a plastic bottle, half-full of water. "Do you want some? To rinse your mouth, wash your hands, whatever. I don't need it, I'm just a block away from here."

She snatches it, almost drops it trying to get the lid off. The slime gets everywhere; she hopes he won't want it back after. She swirls, swishes, spits, repeats. Doesn't help much, not with the taste and not with the texture, but it's something. She pours the rest on her hands, and it doesn't help much there either.

He's still standing there, looking at her. "Thanks, yeah? Now fuck off."

"Uh. Do you need any help, to, like—"

"No." Her stomach growls; she tries not to wince. "Now fuck off."

He glances back at her as he leaves and she flips him off. Better to be a bitch than risk him noticing anything more than he already has.

The woman's place really was very near indeed.

Melissa pauses to retch every few blocks, standing in the darkness between cold puddles of streetlight. The spasms are further apart, less violent; it oozes up to coat her teeth and pool on her tongue, a far cry from the overwhelming spurts before. Alone, with nothing else to focus on, the taste fills her mind; sharp yellow bile and gym-sock ammonia, a meaty sweetness dancing over it all.

She hasn't yet dared to pop one of the pearls between her teeth. Every possibility is distressing.

Each step leaves a slimy trail behind her. It's almost like her shoes are getting wetter the further she goes, their dense slimy coat picking up dirt and trash and twigs. It will be a miracle if she can get them clean. She liked those shoes, too.

The slime gets on everything she touches, too. Her skirt is definitely ruined, with how she's been kneading it between her hands, trying to keep it pulled down, perfectly flat. Thank god there's no one out here to notice.

Her underwear is ruined too, for an entirely different but no less irritating reason.

It was hard to think with the woman's voice humming through her body. The room was spinning and Melissa was spinning with it, long slow revolutions, and the woman was everywhere she looked, her body running like hot wax. She was all over the cheap twin bed, chest heaving, eyes inviting; on the wall her legs curled and spread, the space between her thighs split again and again, a dense river delta ushering Melissa's eyes up towards dew-speckled curls. She was the floor, the dresser, the air in Melissa's lungs; her hands were on her, wrapped around her, inside her, slick and demanding��

"Another drink, dear?", she'd asked when they stumbled inside, already mid-kiss. Her hands were already starting to tease apart Melissa's clothing, unbuttoning her blouse and tugging at her skirt, pushing up her sports bra to tug at the budding flesh beneath.

"Sure," Melissa answered, cocky, grinding against the woman's thigh, "why not?"

Her hands were too busy kneading the woman's ass to take the can, loving the way the hot flesh spread and split under her touch, so she made space between their lips to pour lukewarm beer directly into Melissa's mouth.

"Wha—", she sputtered, "fuck, warn me first!"

The next splash mostly missed her lips, ran down her cheek and dripped onto her half-open blouse, her nose full of its acrid, hoppy scent. The woman laughed, not unkindly. "Aww, but you're cute when you're startled! Besides," she grinned, "now I get to lick you clean."

Melissa is not the first to admit that she's a bad navigator. Several of her exes have made this point to her, often while trying to find their way out of an unpaved back-roads detour or a labyrinthine network of alleys that absolutely would not be permitted to exist in a sane city. Even so, following the train tracks seemed like a good idea—they run right down the middle of the street, and her home was only, what, five stops away? A few miles. Easy. Just walk in a straight line.

Getting lost would be profoundly embarrassing.

So, obviously, Melissa is lost.

She must have gotten turned around one of the times she paused in the dark, walked down a side street instead of right ahead. A stupid, embarrassing mistake to make, but she's distracted by pointedly not thinking about what happened a few nights ago. It was just another drunken hookup. A good one, sure, maybe even, now she has hindsight on her side, a profoundly weird one, but just that.

And whatever stomach bug she's dealing with can't be related. It doesn't even taste like the woman's come.

Never got her name, did I?, Melissa thinks. Not even her number. Damn.

Memories swirl across her skin. Soft, slick fingers, wet mouths, something pressing into her, stretching her, feeling the woman's heartbeat through her entire body. She'd been unable to move by the end, held aloft, wrapped in those tight, soft arms—

She shakes herself, flinging the phantom sensations off into the darkness, and abruptly realizes exactly where she is.

She'd been an absolute mess the morning after. Woke up to find herself wet and sticky all over, reeking of sweat and musk, sprawled out on a sheet mottled with stains both old and fresh. The room smelled like stale sex, she was leaking cum, and her stomach felt swollen.

When she'd finally stumbled out of the bedroom, naked except for her rapidly staining underwear, the woman was reading in a small dining nook, a bowl of oatmeal cooling in front of her. Her smile was more like a leer; Melissa could see the way her eyes crawled over her body, and where they lingered.

"Good morning, 'lissa. Want some breakfast?"

"Morning. Uh, where's your bathroom?"

"Door on your right." Her nose twitched. "Feel free to shower, I suppose."

"Yeah, thanks. Sorry about, uh."

"The mess? Don't worry, dear, it's entirely my fault. It's so nice not to have to control myself, you know?"

Melissa grumbled something noncommittal on her way to the bathroom. The hot shower didn't solve all of her problems, but for a few moments it seemed to come close.

It got late while Melissa was walking. Later than it should be, really, even on a Tuesday. The bar—not quite her neighborhood bar, but close enough to be her usual haunt—is already closed for the night, not that she'd have gone inside if it was open. Its shuttered windows and the warm lanterns dangling on either side of its door are just a landmark, a pin pressed into her map to hold its shifting lies in place.

So. Either she walks a mile to get home, or …

Or …

She blushes as she considers the other possibility. Showing up at a hookup's door on a Tuesday night, looking as fucked up as she does, with whatever is going on with her stomach …

It would be rude. It would be intolerably embarrassing. She's not that down bad, no matter how good the sex was, and even if she was she'd

No.

She'll walk straight home, and hope she has enough energy left to get clean before she passes out.

After the shower, a long time sitting hunched on the toilet, and a cup of the strongest coffee Melissa had ever tasted, she found herself lingering by the door, as dressed and ready to go as she seemed likely to get, putting off her walk home.

"So. What are you, anyway?"

It wasn't the best question. It wasn't even really the one Melissa wanted to ask, just the one that shoved to the front of her mind as she was opening her mouth; embarrassing, even if the woman's startled expression and burst of laughter tugged at something inside her chest.

"… uh. Sorry?"

"No, no, it's just been quite a while since anyone last dared to ask. I slept too long, I suppose."

"… uh," she said, tilting her head and starting to wonder if she was being wound up, "what?"

"Mmm. How about this, dear 'lissa; I'll tell you if you find me again."

"Yeah? That'll be easy," she waved her phone, "got GPS and everything on here."

The woman's warm laughter followed Melissa out the door.

Melissa's 90% sure she has the right door. It's an old-looking one, decorated with elaborate carvings, utterly out of place on the matte-white, newly-gentrified cube that she's pretty sure the woman lived in. 70% sure, minimum.

She's down to 50-50 by the time the light inside flicks on and the woman opens the door, resplendent in an old t-shirt that reaches down just far enough to leave it obvious that it's the only thing she's wearing. She yawns, mouth demurely covered, as she blinks at Melissa.

"Who is … oh! 'lissa, isn't it?" A smile tugs at her lips. "I wondered if you'd …"

She trails off as Melissa steps into the light proper; she'd been lurking at the edge of it, ready to flee if she'd picked the wrong door. Her eyes flicker over the disheveled woman; the iridescent stains all over her clothing, the little pearly beads clinging to her hands, the squishy mess of her shoes, the erection tenting her skirt. Concern and confusion flicker across her face; her lips purse, her shoulders slump.

"Oh. … oh! I forgot to wear a condom, didn't I."

"What, you have some weird STI I should know about?"

"No, nothing like that, just, uh. I should make sure none of them have implanted, dear, I don't think you're ready for that."

"… WHAT?!"

#writing #empty spaces #short stories #monsterfucking #nsft writing #else writes

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chaoscheebs · 1 year ago

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It's Midnight, Cinderella, chapter 2

(Chapter 1) - (Chapter 2) - (Chapter 3) - (Chapter 4) - (Chapter 5) - (Fic Tag)

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How did such a good night go so wrong?

Sure, it had been a little awkward at first; Otogi had promptly ditched him to flirt with (admittedly pretty hot) girls, leaving him stranded in a sea of stuffy people in suits he didn’t have the first clue how to approach on his own. But then Seto Kaiba—and boy, was it painfully obvious it was Seto Kaiba, even with the mask—approached him first! Without prompting! Because Kaiba’s apparently into the Ouji look? Regardless of why, it had been… nice. Very nice, to just leave all the drama and troubles and bad blood at the door and talk to him (flirt with him oh god why did he do that) like a normal person. Then it had led to card games in a private room and… Honestly, why should he have been surprised that it was like foreplay to Kaiba?

Leave the masks on, they silently agreed, let’s put aside real life for a while and enjoy the moment.

He could have revealed who he was at any time, but he didn’t. His thoughts were only how good it felt to be in Kaiba’s arms, how good it felt to have Kaiba’s attention on him and solely him for once in his life, how good it would feel to have those long, elegant legs wrapped around him, and thought absolutely nothing about the potential fallout afterward.

In short, Yugi Muto got carried away, thought with his dick, and that’s why he fled home as soon as Kaiba was asleep to go dye his hair back to normal at four in the morning, quietly thanking whatever deities existed that he hadn’t styled his hair like normal and left it in its natural state. No amount of trying out a different hair color would have hid that hairstyle, that’s for sure. Jounouchi’s gonna be upset that the perfect bleaching he helped Yugi with was already being covered up, but better covered up than the alternative.

Shit. The alternative. What was he going to do now, Yugi asked himself, slumping on the couch while he waited for the 20 minutes for the dye to set to be up. What if Kaiba figures out it was him? How is he going to react? Is he going to get fired? Or worse, barred from being involved with the major players in the gaming industry? Is he going to have to focus on the indie scene, or worse, have to take over the game store?! Is it too late to follow Anzu to New York and start over there?

“Yugi? What are you doing up at this hour?”

Yugi snapped out of his anxiety spiral-induced reverie at the sound of his grandpa’s voice behind him. “Wh-what are you doing up at this hour?!”

“I asked you first, m’boy,” Grandpa asked. He gingerly poked at Yugi’s dye-saturated hair, realized what he just touched, then wiped his dye-stained finger off on the towel around Yugi’s neck. “Didn’t you just change this the other day?”

“Oh, I, uh…” Yugi wracked his brain for a quick but plausible answer and mercifully found one. “I forgot I had a piercing appointment tomorrow and want to get this done now so I won’t forget about it being there and get dye in an open wound!”

Grandpa frowned, clearly still suspicious but unable to think of a good rebuttal at this hour. “More piercings? You’re certain your workplace is all right with that?”

Yugi smirked. “I have a company-wide e-mail from Seto Kaiba himself from the last time someone complained about someone getting piercings, telling all management that he, quote, ‘doesn’t care how much metal someone has in their face if it’s not impacting their ability to work, stop wasting his and everyone else’s time with this.’ Saved it to my computer and printed it out too~”

Grandpa laughed and patted Yugi’s shoulder. “Ho, ho! That’s my boy!” He paused for a moment, then let out a bit of a sigh. “Anyway, don’t forget to get some rest when you’re done with this, all right? Staying up all night isn’t good for you.”

“I will, Grandpa,” Yugi lied. Like hell he was getting any sleep when he was in panic mode like this. Thankfully, his grandfather took him at his word, but not without one more worried glance before leaving.

Once Grandpa was out of sight, Yugi started to flop down on one side on the couch, but suddenly remembered the hair dye and caught himself before the wet hair touched anything. His life was difficult enough at the moment; he doesn’t need Mom complaining about dye stains on the furniture on top of it. Again. He settled instead for slouching forward, staring at the floor, until it occurred to him to pull out his phone from his pocket and stare at that instead.

He really should talk to someone about this, but who? Anzu would commiserate with him, but it would be early afternoon for her off in New York; she’d probably be at a rehearsal or something. There’s also Jounouchi, but hearing him talk shit about Kaiba was not what Yugi needed right now. Honda, maybe? Yugi shook his head; they’re close enough, but not close enough to wake him up over this disaster. Bakura’s right out; he’s the god-king of wandering into trouble and making it everyone else’s problem himself. There’s always Hanasaki, he supposed, but he was prepping for midterms or something and did not need this added to his load either…

Finally, he asked himself, Otogi, maybe? It’s his damn fault he was even at the damn party anyway. But no, Yugi decided, remembering the circle of women surrounding the man before he went off with Kaiba. There’s no way Otogi was alone and he wasn’t interrupting that. At best, he’d get an invitation to join, and any other day that’d be tempting, but again, this was not what Yugi needed right now.

Yugi heaved a sigh and flopped backwards, leaning heavily against the back of the couch, head reclined back as far as it would comfortably go. He thought for a split second about what to do, but then he remembered. The hair dye.

FUCK.

He leapt to his feet and spun around to see a great big splotch of purplish pink, then bolted to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to hopefully clean it up before it set. Dye job first, he told himself, then worry about what to do next. It’s not like he didn’t have all day to figure something out, after all.

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Meanwhile, back at the hotel room, Seto Kaiba was sitting on the edge of the bed, pondering his next move.

He had been sleeping more peacefully than he had in years, but when he turned over in his sleep, his arm fell onto… nothing. The other man’s lithe form was no longer next to him, nor any trace of his warmth left in his place. A quick check of the room and adjoining bathroom proved he was no longer there, period, and a brief check of his belongings showed nothing was missing, save for his mask—he presumed the man grabbed the wrong one in his haste—and, infuriatingly enough, the business card the man had given him.

At least corporate espionage seemed to be off the table as a motive for the man’s quick retreat, Seto thought; with everything that’s happened in his life, a honeypot operation targeting him wasn’t out of the question. Not that he thought anyone would be bold enough to try, with how utterly apathetic he was about… well, being with anyone that way, to be frank.

Which, honestly, was what made this hurt, and what he was blaming for the urge to fight his cynical first impulse to let this matter drop and chalk it up to a passing whim and people being shitty yet again.

He growled quietly, running a hand through his hair. What was wrong with him; why couldn’t he just let this go as an obvious mistake, a momentary lapse of judgment? The man clearly wasn’t taking this as seriously as he was, if the bastard could just run away like this. Still, something nagged at him, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on, but he was very clearly missing something in all of this and it was absolutely infuriating.

He picked up his pants from the floor, fished out his phone, and opened a notes app. He needed a guest list, he typed into it, and started typing out a description of what the man looked like and what he could remember the man saying to him. Also, a description of the man his target was the plus one for, not that he got a terribly long or clear look at him. Still, combined with the guest list, what he did notice could be illuminating. If he could find the “date” that ditched the target, maybe he could get the target’s damned name.

For better or worse, Seto Kaiba was a man who, when his personal curiosity took over, could not be stopped until it was satisfied, and this was going to be no exception to that.

#yugioh #rivalshipping #seto kaiba #yugi muto #my fic #it's midnight cinderella #I POSTED THE THING FINALLY

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blackjackkent · 10 months ago

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All righty! I have spent all day being a very brave adult, and now it is time for fun. Resuming Hector's endgame shenanigans!

We left off with Hector having, uh, a very, very bad time at the Morphic Pool and being rescued at the last minute by the Emperor, who grabbed him right as he passed out and hurled him off into the Astral Prism.

Hector lies on the hard astral stone and dreams of blood and screaming. His unconsciousness offers no safety, no comfort, no escape into oblivion - it is saturated with the terror and hopelessness he felt in the moment of his failure to overcome the Brain's power.

And yet waking is no better. His eyes flicker open and he slowly returns to the realization that his body aches and his head is pounding. There is the taste of iron in his mouth and his eyes can't seem to focus.

And the same thought echoes inescapably in his mind. It's too late. It's all over. We failed. There is nothing left.

He's dimly aware of his friends around him. Jaheira has come back to herself the fastest; she is up on her knees and looking out at the star-filled sky with guarded intensity. Lae'zel is fully on her feet, her silver sword clutched in both hands, but she has a blank, shell-shocked expression on her face and her skin has paled markedly. Karlach is still on the ground near him, facing away, curled into the fetal position around her engine pulsing angrily in her chest.

The Emperor is standing over him, looking down at his sprawled body.

"I pulled you out just in time," the illithid rumbles. "The situation is worse than I thought."

It gives an impatient wave with one hand; Hector is yanked peremptorily onto his feet and sways there, almost pitching back to his knees before he steadies himself.

"This is an Elder Brain no longer," the Emperor goes on brusquely. "The magic of the crown has caused it to evolve. It has become something more - a Netherbrain."

He is so tired. What is the point? They've already lost. They brought the Netherstones to bear and they did nothing at all.

I was not strong enough...

And yet habit is a terribly difficult thing to break. In spite of his exhaustion and his fear, the instinct to calm and discipline is so deeply ingrained in him that he automatically forces himself to stand straight, to blink the blurriness away from his eyes, to parse what the Emperor is saying to him.

"Did you expect this?" he asks hoarsely. His voice sounds as if something has taken his lungs and squeezed them.

"I was as surprised as you were," the Emperor admits flatly. "It has been anticipating our every move from the start. I underestimated it. We will need to rethink our plan."

It turns, not waiting for a respond, and drifts away from him deeper into the Prism.

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Hector sits down heavily on a nearby rock and puts his face in his hands. Slowly his heart rate begins to steady and he starts to feel fully awake again.

"Sound off," he calls raggedly, his voice muffled into his palms. "We're all breathing?"

"Barely," Karlach grunts. She still hasn't stood up, but at the sound of his voice she struggles into a sitting position.

"By the skin of our teeth at best," Jaheira agrees grimly. Finding her feet, she shoves both her knives back into their sheathes and moves to stand at Hector's side.

"We have returned to the Prism," Lae'zel mutters. "Our chance nears. To use the Hammer. To free my Prince." And yet she sounds as rattled as he feels, her voice lacking its usual decisive snap.

"It saved us," Hector says hollowly. "The Emperor, I mean."

"It changes nothing," she snaps back.

"I know." He sighs. "Just another thing to make it harder." Grimacing, he pushes himself back to his feet, walks over to Karlach and puts a hand on her shoulder. He doesn't say anything, but she nods slowly, clambers to her feet next to him.

"Let's keep moving, then," he says quietly. "No point in putting it off."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #here we gooooo

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katzirra · 1 year ago

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Aggressively rubs my face, complaining about anything in life feels so tedious compared to what's going on in the world. World events and disasters and genocides and just fucking everything make you feel so small and worthless. Like god damn I feel guilty for thinking how stressed I am because HAHAH COULD BE WORSE, BITCH. WHICH is kind of a weird thing the internet really uh, perpetuates. Which is kinda what people get at when they say take care of your mental health.

Like I'm staying as up to date as I can but it's... wow it's hard to stomach, and it's hard to know what to do when you're in a financial spot lmao... Fucking god damn. Like carrying on like normal is really hard because there's that thought in the back of my mind right now about how upsetting it is realizing so many people can't do that. Will never do that again. It's like tv static in my head lately low key saddening me more and more.

But yaknow that just sounds like I'm complaining about a world event, but it's not. It's just...a profound sadness. Saturating things. I find myself just kinda sitting lately unsure what to be doing that feels... productive in this time. Not really feeling, uh, creative or happy. I dunno. Low simmering fear as well tbh.

That wasn't the topic I was planning to post about uh... FRIVOLOUS UPDATES I GUESS... I USE TO DO THOSE, YEAH? IDK WHO CARES ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE THESE DAYS TBH LOL

Taking a break from Xig because I'm just ..out of it and need the expectations off me for a second.

Having anxiety even checking my art blog because people weirdly correcting me/giving me a compliment that's shorter than a correction and making me come off rude telling them I'm not wrong makes me anxious as hell :))) so I end up avoiding my own haunts!!! How fucky is that.

I am almost done with my small sketchbook?? I was fixing a few pages up before hitting a few dried out Copics, which lead to me checking all of them to see who I needed to fix/replace and uh... relocate them in my office. Which became redoing my pen pouches and seeing if those got fucked up. Hopefully I'll finish that and start scanning. 2018-2023... with huge gaps in there lol...

I miss doing art I liked. Its kinda stagnant atm so I might take the rest of the year to do studies on angles and shit tbh. I need something. It all feels same same.

Uhhh figuring out some dental stuff - bought myself a bougie electric toothbrush and I think my old one's timer was fucked up and making me brush too long?? Which is bad!!! So this new one already has my teeth feeling better 👏 mom's genetics have me terrified!! My teeth feel better after two brushes??? insane.

Getting bloodwork done Thursday so hopefully figuring some shit out about my weight and health :))) I'd like to lose the like 20-45lb I mysteriously seemed to gain over the past few years??? Uhhh??? And figure my periods out, money has just been BAD since Hannibal's surgery....

Having panic scares about if my job is going away in December or not and hating every job listing I see online so I gotta look for whatever listing sites exist outside indeed. Also something this decent with the same pay :)))))) so that's on my todo list... again.

Box spring is busted on my bed, so hopefully I don't have to replace the mattress just yet because of the previous point AND THE FACT I JUST STARTED GETTING TO SAVE FOR MY PC..... first world problems but fuck, dudes. Vakarian is fucking suffering sometimes... :(( but we'll see because MATTRESS PRICES.......!!!

I cleaned my office and room and that made me feel like I've accomplished something for myself so that's... something.

Trying to focus on things. Depression cocktail is going on..... money, job, housing, health, the world... it's all so much all the time, man.

#kat life #kat talks #ignore me #this is just feelings and ugh updates on my shit!!

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thelivingmemegod · 1 year ago

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I am handing you this video and begging for every single thought you can spare about these lines and yadda yadda yadda gimmie your brain

I’m pretty much writing these in video order, so this will mostly flow with it. Long post ahead y’all!

Faboolous Pets:

This feels…random. Like…what was the concept-fashion wise? I do like that they mirrored some things from the pets to a couple of the dolls (Draculara’s bar sleeves, Clawdeen’s blue fur vest)

Draculara’s outfit overall is adorable. I don’t like Clawdeen’s outfit, Cleo looks incredibly discombobulated. Slapdash. Random as hell. What was this.

Feariridescent:

No. Why. What the hell.

I hate this hair. SO MUCH I hate this hair. Clawdeen’s hair should not be all purple. Draculara’s is WAY too pink. Lagoona’s hair is causing this weird effect where my brain wants her skin to be more saturated but nothing else says her skin should be more saturated. I don’t know what they did with Cleo’s hair, is it white???? I hate it-

Frankie’s hair is fine though, they’re all good.

I can’t tell if this is the photo, but three of the lip colors look absolutely insane: Cleo, Clawdeen and Lagoona’s lips all look crazy.

That aside! Conceptually: this is cool! Adding iridescent elements on and trying to keep their personal style. They didn’t do it very well cuz the prices just look like a very particular type of plastic I can’t name which sucks

I don’t like Clawdeen’s hair thing or Draculara’s earmuff thingys. But that’s mostly personal.

Creepover party:

Honestly. They’re super inoffensive to me? Like I wouldn’t go out of my way to get the base three, but if I was gifted them I’d greatly enjoy them. Twyla is adorable and I love her I’d love you forever if you gave her to me.

Don’t love the robes. I like em just fine. I do sorta wish there was more variety in the kinds of pjs they wore? Like Draculara strikes me as a silk sleep short set girl. Ditch the robe.

Clawdeen has like. Bathrobe, Bonnet, Bags under her eyes, don’t-wake-her-up-in-the-morning vibes.

Frankie is fine (I think they can keep their robe), but their shoes feel weird cuz uh. Babes why are you wearing full boots to sleep-

Ghoul Spirit:

This. This is bad.

Toralei’s hair. Her face mold is also really odd, she looks nothing like the show.

Deuce looks a little wonky in the face and his hair is the wrong color, but eh.

He and Frankie share the issue of the sweaters looking frumpy, but that’s an issue of scale so I’m not knocking em there.

Draculuara just…looks incredibly awkward. Her bangs, Bat bow and uniform look very, very awkward on her.

I hate Clawdeen’s Jersey. Why is there furr in the arm holes. The goggles are random but…Kay.

Cleo looks off model so to speak? Her face looks wrong and she’s so…dressed down? Cleo wouldn’t wear a Jersey dress. She just wouldn’t. It’s wrong-

Neon Frights:

Uh. Ummmmm… ignoring the weird double sided sleepwear-going out thing. I’m gonna focus of the going out looks.

I’m going off the stock photos we don’t talk about real life.

Again, Twyla is cute, very cute. But I’d ditch the chain, crowds the outfit, just give her the jacket.

Again with Toralei’s face mold and hair. I don’t love her outfit due to its proportions mostly, looks slightly awkward.

Frankie looks just fine! The lime green was. A choice but that’d mostly cuz of the material hat the shoes and purse are made from, especially balanced with the same material but blue for their leg.

I actually really like this Ghoulia- I’m a sucker for splatter paint, the pixel type charm things on her harness, the controller earrings and pixel glasses, the colors are well balanced- Love that for her!

Here’s the boss…

I. Draculara.

I’m.

Ya know how I said the colors were well balanced on Ghoulia? Welll they’re not here. Why is her lipstick purple. Why is her harness charm purple. That’s random as hell-

I don’t like the green they chose, it doesn’t work very well anywhere they put it. I hate that her hair is mainly black and her top and skirt and both too busy for anything.

Note: While I was working on this post, my lovely Qpp, and asked of this question actually got a Neon Frights Toralei and. She was in awful condition straight out the box. One of her legs and arms were unpainted and her tail immediately fell out entirely. It’s bad

G2….happened. Collectively. It happened. The molds are. There. They’re lazy, they’re alllll lazy. Just. No.

THERE WAS A FUCKING EMOJI LINE- I hate G2 so much. (Said as a bitch who owns Emoji leggings and loves them)

The only thing I liked here was the Lagoona little sister doll from Monster Family because she’s a real character, Lagoona has little siblings at least in G1 and I like her hair.

Electrified feels like an insult. It feels like a slap in the face.

Electrified was a real concept in G1. It was part of the freaky fusion line because in that movie they had to recharge or Electrify Frankie to save her and she had this beautiful redesign I loved. They put them in tHE FUCKING 80s. I have nothing against the 80s or it’s style, insane as it was. This is just a really bad and lazy version of that. Just. Look at them-

E W EWEWWEWEWEWEWEW LOTS OF LOOKS DRACULARA CAN BURN IN HELL THATS A LIE WHO ARE YOU WHAT THE FUCK

Boo York, Boo York:

I’d never actually seen the Boo York, Boo York dolls before. And yeah Clawdeen and Draculara look bad, they’re both incredibly basic and uninspired. The fabrics are very awkward, Draculara’s skin is washed out by all the pink, Clawdeen…looks like that. AND STOP TAKING THE PINK OUT OF DRACULARA’S HAIR DAMNIT.

Catty doesn’t look great but better then them. Her hair is terrible and her face looks crazy cuz of that pink lipstick and the super flat silver eyeshadow.

Luna, Mousades and Elle E.D all got done dirty, done horrendous. Especially Gala Mousades

Cleo and Nefera from this line got Justice though they’re slaying.

Geek Shriek:

…Girl (gn) What.

What was this line. Why did you do this. What the hell.

Also the lineup is RANDOM AS HELL-

Ghoul’s Alive:

Was. Was this a Baby Alive but make it monster high? Is that was this was? I hate that concept.

Spectra looks normal. Frankie and Toralei look okay.

Deuce and Clawdeen. What the fuck.

Great Scarrier Reef:

My heart hurts for this line it really does. Cuz this concept RULES if you’re here for the creativity and the dolls themselves. Vampire squid Draculara??? Tigerfish Toralei??? Electric Eel Frankie!!! A Kraken character?!!

But it’s not…great for the fashion aspect. Even I wouldn’t know what to do with it in that regard.

Then the dolls come out and they’re…a lil wonky lookin’ at best (the core girls, not the new two…three.)

They mostly busy up top and empty at the bottom, Clawdeen is fucking purple. Draculara escapes this but still loops wonky cuz she’s not actually structured like a squid, it’s like only her feet changed and her legs just got fused together

Kala, Peri and Pearl are cool, they deserve their flowers. Peri and Pearl’s two headed body is an awesome idea and they escape being empty on the bottom…at the cost of being twice as busy up top-

Yeah it. Ugh…she is right though, this was the beginning of the end.

Freaky Fushion:

Now this REALLY hurts cuz it’s movie and the message with it is dear to me.

They 100% needed more drafts, more concerting time or whatever it would’ve taken to get to the idea of making these into their own entirely different monsters.

And I think it would’ve helped the movie along because in essence they just became different monsters with the abilities they have to now learn to control.

Cleolai would’ve become a sphinx, Lagoonafire a Leviathan, Clawvenus something akin to Swamp Thing.

And a big problem with this line is how they’re styled. Drcaubecca should look SO Victorian it should’ve given fashion historians a heart attack-

Lagoonafire looks. Generic but wrong. She looks like they were taking from stereotypes that were just wrong or were so paired down that they said nothing.

Cleolai looks. Like neither of her parts. No high fashion, expensive Cleo, no scrappy, punk, patched together Toralei in that look whatsoever.

Clawvenus…what- what was that. What is that.

There’s also…no harmony to balance out all their contrast that they just look garish and are complete eyesore’s at the end of it.

The new characters, the hybrid girls are fantastic though and I love them a lot. G1…struggled with Male dolls, it really did. But so does every fashion doll line that isn’t Rainbow high and even they still do sometimes. But as for the girls, they’re all wonderful and I love those.

This isn’t in the video but:

We do not talk about the Save Frankie specific line. We don’t. No.

#sky rambles #sky talks dolls #sky talks fashion

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bad12amcomic · 1 year ago

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Hello hello hello hello!!

I have been obsessed with all of your comics and,, perhaps if you would like,, I would love to know what goes through your head when you make these? What are details you're really excited about that maybe you're worried the viewers will miss? What was your favorite part of the sleeping in the flowers comic?

Or just talk abt whatever!! I just want to hear your thoughts :D

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 SOBS YOURE SO SWEET???? honestly the only reason why I took so long to answer this was mainly because I just wanted to keep your ask in my inbox like a creep and that I had tried to answer this 3 separate times but Tumblr threw a hissyfit

Uh I guess since you’re indulging me I will indulge you… I tend to prioritize the visual aspect of the comic a LOT more than anything else, (I was super happy when people complimented me on my paneling hehe) so I will go through a rough draft of figuring where I want the camera to go and then go “no that’s stupid”, erase it, start over again until my brain and eyes agree that yeah that comprehensible (one of the flower comic pages took me 5 tries to get right each time from scratch lololol). (This is also the section where I am screaming the most because I hate lineart and anything I line looks murky and unclear so I grapple my friends to ask them to validate me)

And then the colors, and this is where I try working out my symbolism muscles and show off because so far this has been a lot of the characters sitting around and talking which isn’t bad but this probably could’ve been a fic if I was a writer. For the flower comic it was basically green and red which are complimentary colors obviously [Green is obviously Scar’s color but they’re literally at his base where everything was hand built and tended to by him and Grian who is red like his feelings would’ve stood out is he wasn’t playing it cool and camouflaged behind his really big green hat and the hat provides shelter from the sun depriving his sweater feelings flowers from being fed because turns out scars color is also yellow because yellow and blue make green and the few times that grian does look at scar is enough to saturate grow feed the feelings flowers sweater and they are almost allowed to be in bloom but Grian is a trooper emotionally repressed but a trooper and he is hiding from the yellow but sir cannot ignore such a tempting request to stay from his complimentary and did anyone notice scars speech bubbles shedding light on his sweater when he asks I blame Crow and Eirian for enabling me on that that was so gay anyways BOOM BOOM BOOM look the all encompassing green finally fulfills its role as the backdrop as all of the colors feelings thoughts come into view wow look the yellow comes in too because while grian has been looking at the yellow scar has been facing away from it]

I guess if I was worried about anything the viewers were going to miss (I was excited that people liked the texturing, flowers in general the greater structure of the comic) was that they were going to miss the subtext that even though Scar looked like he knew what was going on and was trying to tease Grian he was very much in the dark. (I was kinda proud of the frame after the panel where Scar’s smile falters) Looking back, I probably didn’t pull it off anyways but at the time of posting I thought if there was a viewer who hasn’t read the fic the comic was based on it would suck if they didn’t catch that.

So uh yeah (jazz hands) a lot of run on sentences. I usually add a drawing to an ask so uh have this doodle I did when I actually had an intervention with a couple of friends in the server I was streaming drawing the big flower panel at 2 AM. (70% of the flowers in that panel were hand drawn :D)

#boarding now

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lesbiangiratina · 4 years ago

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A bitch really cant catch a break today huh

#what the Fuck is going on with me #it was a Shitty Cringe Thoughts kind of day and now im just like #my body feels kinda numb and im really dizzy. my heart rate is like 140 #this happened a few nights ago too and im uh hoping its not as bad as it was then #my oxygen saturation is consistently 98/99 why do i feel like im gonna pass out LOL #i didnt eat much but like. i ate. im drinking water as we speak #ive got a headache tho so maybe im still dehydrated?? who knows #(YES i have a pulse ox on my bedside table because i am a neurotic little animal)#the kat goes meow

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clambuoyance · 2 years ago

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Sorry if uve answered this before but like. What do u think kon and clarks relationship? I kinda like them being on good terms but in the nebulous ur ny uncle/brother/cousin/close family memeber deal instead of clark being a parent because... waves hands at luthor and the uh. Kinda constant issues of how kon was created and also because I think kon deserves to choose what people to mean to him after everything he's been thru but what do u think

ive had a couple asks about this and i dont remember if ive answered it before or not but i guess ill separate my thoughts into Fanon/my preferred timeline and then canon. but i think im in the same general camp where i think that theyre relationship is very nebulous, but don't mind if Parent is one of those relationships thrown into the mix. saying theyre brothers doesnt feel 100% right, but saying theyre father-son also doesnt feel totally right? i literally don't know how to explain how i feel about it but if you read this maybe it will be more clear

uh this will be long

1)Canon (pre retcon and post retcon)

Sooooo firstly with canon, i chalk a lot of the choices up to the narrative constraints and dc editorial things? because one, they wanted superboy to be a solo hero and not a sidekick, and two, his original story is that he is not a superman clone, but just a clone from a shitbag scientist named Paul Westfield that was altered to look and mimic clark, which is also pretty weird and understandably off-putting for clark still.

then when clark finally "returns from the dead" he's still pretty concerned about the kid? like he helps kon figure out what to do with cadmus and all, and then kon gives clark's old apartment back to him and says he's gonna find a new place and fly "second star to the right and straight on till morning" T-T

and you know from then on he's just a guy that occasionally pops up and gives kon advice.

and then we get to the whole "brother thing" because when kon went into hypertime and met teen clark, teen clark assumed his adult self had shared his secret identity and life with kon, which makes kon feel insecure about not being trustworthy. teen clark explains that he probably has a reason and says they could be like brothers. and when kon comes back and confronts kal-el, kal tells him he's family.

they do act familial, but the brother thing was proposed by clark first so it's not as clear on kon's side. personally, despite his rebellious attitude and insistence on being his own man, he's still a kid, and with how much kon latches onto father figures, laments about not having a real father or mother and even wishes he had one, gets distraught at the thought of losing his father figures like guardian or dubbilex, i don't really blame some readers for hoping clark would step in more as either a mentor or something more?

but again, that would require some big narrative commitments and mightve made it hard for them to be solo heroes with separate lives, and supergirls a solo hero too with a similar age range but she's already been established as a cousin.

now after the retcon, its been changed so that kon is half lex luthor half clark, and though there's still a mixed bag of opinions on it, at least kon's attitude towards paul and not wanting to end up like a shitbag and have to be told by clark he's his own person still applies i guess T-T and the circumstances are more iffy and kon does keep it a secret for a while. it also complicates things by painting clark to be some absentee dad, which frankly is out of character for him i think. so idk kon keeping both his donors a secret could be interesting ? i have to think about it and how to resolve that narrative issue T-T. but also, i dont think the retcon is necessarily bad, just had a bunch of missed unique opportunities they could've used to make it stand out in a medium where this type of plotline already saturates its stories T-T (you could buy a sandwich if you had a nickel for every hero with half villain half hero genes)

so yeah basically im pretty sure readers at the time were hoping for a more father-son relationship while some were fine with just being brothers, and dc cant decide so i have decided that i will apply homestuck rules in which they are genetic father and son and may call each other brothers but in a way where kon looks up to clark so much he's basically a father to him. or like in ninjago where kai and lloyd clearly have a brotherly relationship but lloyd claims "kai was a father to me when i needed one."

because relationships aren't so cookie cutter you know? especially when it comes to family.

ANYWAYSSSSSSS

2) Fanon/My canon timeline

In my mind's eye, their relationship takes a longgg time to develop, and it has to overcome misunderstandings, but they are always amicable to each other. (Basically, not whatever the yj show did?) Clark doesn't automatically set himself to adopt or whatever, but he promises to look after him and has a more active role in helping kon find a place to stay, on kon's own insistence on being his own independent person. He heavily distrusts Cadmus though but dubbilex and guardian seem trustworthy enough. There is a part where he asks kon to keep an eye on cadmus' shady operations, and in my fanon I'd rather him just say that kon should go to him if anything bad every happens more out of concern for kon's safety than anything else? If that made sense.

Also, Clark is young and still rattling with the fact there's a mini-him running around the place that was meant to replace him so he's allowed to feel weird about it and not have all the answers. He does know that the right thing to do is make sure the kid's safe, but the kon's got a chip on his shoulder and doesn't make it easy. Kon is no one's sidekick--he is going to be superman one day, because it's what he's meant to do. He doesn't always know what's best for him, and always gets himself into trouble, and maybe he knows that, but I'd write it so that he slowly has to learn that it's okay to be a kid and to fuck up sometimes and listen to someone who knows better. Also, he talks big shit about being superman but also places expectations on himself because Clark's shadow is just so big that it makes it hard to connect with clark maybe? Like that's the guy you were made to be one day. And you know for a fact he didnt mess up as much as you did.

And when kal gives him the name kon-el and proclaims that he is family, kon is so happy he cries so you're left wondering why it took so long for them to get to that point. so i think in my timeline it'd happen a bit sooner? or like i would not make it take so long lol.

then you meet teen clark, and i think that's when things start to change. Of course this is the homestuck in me talking, but I think i'd have liked to see kon spend more time with teen clark, where some of that walls between them could have been broken down at now that kon's able to see what clark was like as a kid and bring him down to earth more rather than view him as this big lofty figure in his life. that's also partly what the yj sins of youth arc does too i guess. mmm gotta love the coming-of-age-ness of it all.

teen clark says that having kon around is kind of like having a brother, and kon nods but wonders if adult clark will think the same. after returning to his reality, kon goes to kal-el who reassures him he's family and trusts him and is sorry he doesn't make that more clear. he'd ask what kon wants but kon himself is still unsure. and after that convo, clark makes it a point to check up on him more and grows more concerned. he's gotten to know the kid a lot more!

and okay i could go on and on but basically, he voices his concerns about kon's living situations and surrounding peers a lot more and is careful not to command kon like a scolding parent, but nudge him with advice and let it be kon's decision on what to do. basically this is the stage where clark is acting more like a guardian figure i guess and after kon is finally convinced to go live in smallville with the kents, clark gets a lot more unbearable and acts like an annoying family member to kon and smothers him with sagely advice lol. and kon appreciates the gesture but he's having a hard time adjusting to it all, at having to live a normal life, and no matter what clark does there's still this shadow and expectation that falls on him. and not knowing what to do kon gives in, and tries to mimic clark cuz his previous efforts to be his own person all always landed him in hot shit.

(and if we are keeping the retcon, then finding out you arent who you thought you were would just add more to ur identity crisis T-T and if ur like me who likes to think of kon as queer then aaaah this new life would do a number on you and you might try to act soooo normal and scramble for a sense of control and understanding of your own life. and insisting on keeping it a secret bc ur afraid it'll change what people think of you? ough ik it wasnt meant to be read like that but my brain just went aaaaah. the queer experience. and with the whole luthor mind control thing? I hate 70% of it but i like thinking about it from an angle where kon realllly has to fight for an ounce of control over any aspect of his life idk idk T-T even without the retcon, i think you could still find a way to do something with this notion of identity and control)

anyways, i think time in smallville would slowly allow clark and kon to bond even more and really see each other for who they are as people and for kon to really find out who he is and who he wants to be, not as a sidekick to clark or as superman but as himself (and he'd slowly come back to a more punk and/or flamboyant fashion sense T-T). he's friends with the coolest teen heroes ever who are his family, and he's ma kent's boy. and he's clark's family. he tells his school friends that clark's his cousin and maybe thats what the documents say, and they may agree to call each other brothers, but bottomline is clark will be a father to kon whenever he needs one and will always be there to help kon and be a home to him.

then when clark is older and has jon, i guess maybe kon would still stick around and help out and definitely sees himself as jon's brother. like regardless of what clark and kon decide to call themselves kon is jon's brother like i really want them to be silly brothers. also cuz jon deserves one. there's so many interesting things dc could do with jon and kon aaaag so sad. it's also important to me that clark is a good parent and even if he wasnt perfect, he cared about kon and explicitly shows theyre family? like even in canon sometimes it didnt feel like it T-T

maybe it's just me, but i guess i project a lot of my own experiences and my oc rolin's experience onto him a lot. because rolin lives with his aunt who is basically a mother to him, and he has an older cousin who is basically a brother to him, and then this little girl that barges into his life basically becomes his sister and he can act like an overbearing parent to her even though they're not related by blood. he's got a weird relationship with his own dad, so he sees a father in a lot of older ppl. you can never have too many parental figures!!! so i guess my mind's used to thinking of family members doing double duty T-T ? i just personally really think dynamics shouldn't easily be pinned down as just one thing and think ppl are too stuck on traditional (or perhaps a nuclear or western) family standards. ugh when i write my oc story you will all see.

sorry that was really long and rambly and didn't make sense in some parts--i probably should have done this in google docs and made this fancy. also! who knows i might totally change my mind on a thing anyways. canon is my playdough i mold to whatever i think suits a more interesting narrative or to my personal bias.

#i think maybe this is also my filipino experience talking #also even if ur related by blood you choose to be family by choosing to treat them like one #and also you can have more than one parental figure bc why restrict yourself to two?#this probably makes NO sense to anyone sorrrry ill shut up now Bye.#but would i still read a fic or premise where kon acts like a rebellious teenage son ? maybe i would.#clam answers #this is just my personal canon definitely dont have to agree #i just would like the official comics to explore it more cuz theres a lot u could do! especially now that kon is actually back #and if anything i want kon and jon dynamic!!!!!!!!!#dc #kon el #kontent #i did this instead of my homework!!!!!!!!!!

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bullshxtvixen · 4 years ago

Photo

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Song: Put It On Me - Matt Maeson

Warnings: 18+, Coercion(dubcon themes), size kink, cream pie, virginity kink, corruption kink, rough sex, spitting, spanking, light choking, light assplay(I couldn’t help myself), dom!bokuto(he’s kind of an ass oops).

A/N: So uh, it’s finally here…My first fic in two months and i’m ngl, i’ve been dreading posting for so long, but i tried to give you guys something good for my return, so please let me know what you think and go easy on me, i’m a little rusty sksks. However, this is a gift for @thekraziesreside because she drew me them most amazing Kenma x Me icon and i needed to pay her back somehow!!

Shoutout to my amazing friends @deathcab4daddy, @dymphnasprose and @spicykzumeknma, who i’m sure are sick of beta reading this by now and having me freaking out about posting it. Thank you for all your grammar corrections that I will probably never learn from, I love you all

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I-I’m a virgin.”

The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

The large hands that had been tracing the contours of your body stilled. You had to stop yourself from flinching when his intense golden stare shot to your face.

“What…” He let the word trail off, a well-practised mask of surprise coming into place on his features.

It was second nature to him now, letting his face morph into whatever expression he needed it to at a moments notice. No one ever suspected the friendly Ace of being anything other than a good guy, and really, he wasn’t a bad guy. No, he just relished in taking the innocence of unsuspecting women who easily fell into his trap.

Like you.

“I’m a virgin, Kou.” Even though you were straddling him, you still had to look up to meet his eyes.

With the tips of your ears burning, you moved to get off of his lap as if you could escape from your embarrassing confession. You couldn’t believe you’d openly admitted you were an inexperienced virgin to the guy you’d only just met a week ago. A mutual friend had introduced the two of you, and you’d quickly fallen for his ‘nice guy’ act.

You hadn’t even put a foot on the floor before you were pulled back and thrown into the pillows. The weight of Bokuto’s body was quick to settle on top of you, pressing you down into the plush mattress.

“What are y-” before you could finish your sentence, your wrists were pinned above your head, rendering your arms useless in his firm grip. The muscles in your abdomen tightened at his rough treatment, and you couldn’t stop the small gasp that fell from your lip. Turning your head to the side, you tried in vain to hide your flustered expression.

Bokuto felt his cock twitch in the grey sweats that hung low on his hips.

The innocent ones were always the most responsive. He fought off a grin as the thought crossed his mind.

“Did you really think I was going to let you get away after telling me something like that?” He growled, warm breath ghosting over your face and across your neck. He watched with a glint in his eyes as you shivered under him.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Do you know what that means, little bird?”

Your heart raced at the nickname.

Could he make you sing for him?

Certain he could hear your heartbeat fluttering like a hummingbird's wings in your chest, you silently prayed for the ground to open up and swallow you whole. The mortification you felt was palpable in the space between you.

Bokuto thought it was cute how bashful you were, so unsure and unwilling to show him your real feelings, even though your body told him everything he needed to know. Still, he’d have you voicing your innermost desires sooner or later- it was only a matter of time.

“Well?” He pressed, not allowing you to dwell on your thoughts any longer. He didn’t want to have to put in too much effort to break you.

Your voice was small and unsure when you answered him, eyes looking anywhere but his direction, “No.”

He was so close, closer than any man had ever been before. The proximity made it hard to think straight as the warmth of his body seeped into your bones, and his masculine scent invaded your senses.

It was almost stifling.

His tongue darted out, licking a wet strip up the side of your exposed neck before pressing a soft kiss just below your ear. He felt you shiver beneath him before pulling back and watching a deep blush journey down to your chest. It was so pure...He couldn’t wait to be the one to defile your virtue.

Gently grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turned your face until you had no option but to meet his simmering gaze.

Begrudgingly, you looked up at the man looming over you and found he was already observing your flustered expression. He stared so openly and without shame that you began to squirm under him.

Bokuto saw your blush deepen further and wondered what you’d look like when he eased his cock inside your virgin hole.

Would your eyes roll into the back of your head? Would your nails imbed themselves in his back? Or maybe you’d simply cry out in pain and pleasure as he ripped through your innocence?

All kinds of scenarios whirled around in his brain, sending his mind into overdrive.

Unconsciously, he ground the head of his cock against your clothed slit and was rewarded when he heard your sharp intake of breath.

Heat pooled in his groin.

It was such a pretty sound. He wanted more, and he didn’t need to feel the slick collecting in the crotch of your underwear to know your feelings mirrored his.

His smile was predatory as he answered.

“It means that I’ll be the first person to fill your tight little pussy up with cum. I’ll stretch your walls around my cock and pump you so full that it’ll be dripping out of you for days.”

The lewd words fell from his mouth with ease, and you found yourself shifting as your body all of a sudden became too warm as if the temperature in the room had spiked, but you knew it was his words alone that had caused your reaction.

You hated how easily he affected you.

“I bet you want me to corrupt your sweet little body, don’t you?” He already knew the answer.

Your body responded of its own accord, turning into putty beneath him. Your hips rolled against his as your back arched off the bed at the feeling of his cock nudging against your clit. The knot in your stomach tightened.

The grip on your wrists tightened. Bokuto took a few steadying breaths, struggling to hold himself back. You seemed so tiny and fragile as you lay beneath his brawny form, and he was scared he would break you if he gave in to his own desires too soon.

Maybe that’s what you wanted. The sadistic voice in the back of his mind purred.

“I- I don’t know.” Your voice wavered as you answered him honestly. Doubt had begun to gnaw at your gut. Waiting didn’t seem like the worst idea- there was no rush, after all.

He closed his eyes for a split second to hide the annoyance that no doubt flickered through them. When he reopened them, he became the personification of a bird of prey, and you were his next meal.

Your mouth became dry as you lied entrapped by his stare.

“Come on, I can make you feel good.” As if he was digging his talons in to prevent your escape, he rolled his hips against yours once more, making sure that his cock rubbed firmly over your swelling clit. The side of his mouth quirked up when a tentative moan left your parted lips.

“That’s it, you like that, don’t you? You want me to make you feel good, don’t you, little bird?” another roll of his hips, and he watched the doubt dissolve away for now.

“Koutarou...please.” Your voice was small, uncertain as you begged.

You didn’t know what you were begging for, you just knew he could give it to you, whatever it was.

Golden eyes flashed at the way your voice was saturated with need. For a moment he thought that maybe you weren’t a virgin, but instead, a succubus, come to steal his soul.

He would let you.

The weight of his body left yours, and in seconds, you were stripped of all of your clothing, which was thrown haphazardly around the room. His soon followed.

Eager eyes drank in the sight of your naked body before him. Your skin was so beautiful and unmarred by another person, so enticing and begging for his touch. Soon you would be littered in his marks as he lay claim to your body, inside and out.

Growing self-conscious under his prolonged stare, you tried in vain to cover your most intimate parts.

“There’s no use trying to hide from me. I’m going to become well-acquainted with your body by the time I’m done with you.”

A gasp escaped your lips when his fingers reached down and ghosted over your folds. A groan left him when he felt just how wet you were.

“Well, looks like someone’s already dripping at the thought of being ruined by my cock- isn’t that cute?” Though his tone was mocking, his words still sent excitement trickling down your spine.

Spreading your lips, he circled a thick finger around your twitching entrance, smiling devilishly when you whined for him. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he witnessed your jaw go slack as he eased the first finger past the slick opening, surprised when he was met with little resistance.

Soon he was able to work himself knuckle-deep, and your walls fluttered around him in welcome.

Such a slutty pussy for someone so untouched.

“You’re so tight, baby. Your pussy’s sucking my finger in so nicely; I bet you’re going to feel amazing when I stuff my cock inside.”

You groaned as his fingers started to move within your previously untainted walls. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling like you’d feared it would be- it was almost like a welcoming pressure had settled deep within you.

“Kou… more.”

A chuckle met your ears in line with his warm lips brushing against your pubic bone, “Your wish is my command.”

When the second finger was added, the discomfort became evident on your face. He didn’t pause his movements; instead, their pace increased as pain and pleasure fought for dominance at the apex of your thighs.

“That’s it, you can do it. The pain will stop soon,” At that moment he chose to curl his fingers and press them against the spongy spot deep within your sopping cunt. The pain dulled and was overshadowed by pleasure as he played with your body as if it were an instrument he was fine-tuning.

“Ah- fuck, I-” Your breathing accelerated as the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to increase . Your hips started to buck up off the bed when his thumb joined his ministrations and began working tight circles against your clit. Sparks of excitement like nothing you’d felt before shot through your veins. Stringing thoughts together became almost impossible.

If this was what his fingers could do, you weren’t sure you’d be able to remain sane once his cock entered you.

“There it is,” he cooed, fingertips rubbing against the same spot, this time with a little more vigour, “God, you look so beautiful with my fingers inside you, you’re drenching them, baby.”

A thick fog came over your mind as they stroked and stretched your walls, creating a pressure in your abdomen that threatened to overflow at any second. It almost scared you, and yet, you couldn’t prevent your hips from desperately grinding down against his hand.

“More,” you cried, your breaths beginning to come out in pants.

The wet squelching sounds of your pussy filled the room as his hand became a blur between your thighs. The sound only added to your arousal.

When your legs began to quake, he lowered his head and added his mouth to the mix, suckling skillfully at your puffy clit. His lips were cool as they attached themselves to your heated skin, the difference in temperature causing a prolonged whine to leave you.

His tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, his fingers working your insides, coiling, stroking and stretching until the pressure that had been steadily rising in your stomach finally exploded within your body. It erupted from your core, spreading through you like wildfire.

Your hands found hair, pulling and twisting the soft locks as you came hard around his fingers. He moaned at the flash of pain in his scalp- causing his own desire to heighten. Your walls pulsed as he continued to curl his fingers against your g-spot.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, Kou, fuck, oh god, oh god!” Your cries of delight were music to Bokuto’s ears. It excited him so much that he couldn’t help but gently rut his hips into the mattress. His cock was painfully hard now, and precum leaked freely from his swelling tip. He needed to be inside you soon or he’d lose his mind.

Pulling his fingers from your pussy, you watched through half-lidded eyes as he brought them to his mouth and began to eagerly lap at them.

“Koutarou…That was....” Your brain was still riding its high, unable to give you an end to your sentence.

He pulled his hand from his mouth, “I told you I’d make you feel good. Now, before I fuck your brains out, why don’t you see how good you taste?”

The musky smell of your arousal filled your nostrils as he brought his fingers to your lips.

“Open.” It wasn’t a request.

At your hesitance, he quirked a brow, “I promise you taste amazing. Now, open.”

You obeyed, still riding the endorphin high he’d pulled from your body. Because of this, you didn’t even notice that he’d reached over and pressed record on his phone that was propped up on the nightstand. He’d made sure to angle it so the camera pointed directly at your face.

He found people were much more...compliant... if he had video footage he could use against them in the event that they changed their minds.

With a grin, he placed the two fingers he’d had knuckle deep in your cunt against your tongue.

The tart taste of your release was quick to spread over your tastebuds. His eyes darkened when you began to swirl your tongue around his fingers, lightly sucking on them until they were completely clean of your arousal.

It was so erotic that you found it hard to maintain eye contact.

He released a shaky breath before pulling his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’.

“You’re a little minx, you know that?” He teased, allowing one of his hands to come to rest next to your head while the other reached between your bodies. Taking his length in his hand, he watched a mix of anticipation and fear come over your features when you looked down.

Your audible gulp was heard in the silence that followed.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected, but this was beyond anything your mind had come up with. Even though you’d never had sex before, you knew he was big. His cock was thick and heavy where it hung between his legs. Veins ran along the sides of his shaft, the largest one snaking directly down the centre before splitting in two near the swollen head. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like having something so big inside your body.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Your voice wavered, doe-eyes shining with fear as they met his.

He acknowledged your fear with a condescending sneer, “Oh, little bird, you really think you have a choice?” he nodded towards the nightstand.

The blood in your veins turned icy, and your body began to tremble as you lay eyes on the phone, screen open and recording.

Breathing became difficult as panic rose in your chest. You’d been so naive. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“It’s been recording for the last couple of minutes. Now,” his rough fingers came to rest against the sides of your throat, squeezing lightly as he brought his face just inches from yours, “you can either behave, and this will feel amazing for both of us, or you can be a brat, and the only person this is going to be fun for is me. Not to mention, I’ll send the video around to every person you know, including your boss.”

At the mention of your boss, your whole body deflated. He had you right where he wanted you. While the thought of your friends and family seeing the video was mortifying, you couldn’t risk losing your job. Your virginity was a small price to pay to make sure the video stayed hidden.

Anger bloomed in your chest as you leered up at the spiky-haired man, but you had no fight in you. It was useless to even try.

“If I do this, you’ll make it go away?” You tried to make your voice sound confident, but it cracked at the end.

He couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face when he realised you were giving in, “Of course- no one else will ever see it.”

He watched the internal battle going on behind your mind before your eyes hardened.

“Fine, so be it. I’ll play your sick game.” You spat, what else did you have to lose?

Bokuto’s eyes widened when you reached down and removed his hand from his length before replacing it with your own. It was softer than you’d imagined, yet firm at the same time. Like steel encased in velvet.

“You like the feeling of my cock, baby? It’ll feel even better when I'm balls deep inside you. You’ll be my little slut and take it all like a good girl, won’t you?”

The man above you let out a rumbling moan from deep within his chest when your fingers flexed around him, head falling against your chest. Your wavering hands felt so small as they struggled to circle his impressive girth. It again reminded him of the size difference between the two of you.

Your eyes darted between him and the phone. He took the hint and reached over, turning the phone off and laying it flat against the nightstand.

He turned back to you with a smug smirk.

You wanted to slap the look right off his face, but violence would probably result in the video being circulated faster.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you dipped the head of the thick muscle between your folds. Your slick coated it instantly. Lining him up with your entrance, you waited for him to meet your gaze. When he did, he saw the hatred burning in them. It made his cock throb in your palm.

When he pressed his hips forward, all at once, the air left your body as heat flooded your core.

Bokuto studied your face intently, drinking in the way your pupils dilated and your mouth dropped open into a silent moan. If he could burn one image into his mind, it was your face at that moment as he stole the last remnants of your innocence from you.

“Hng-fuck...it feels...s-so-” Your hands blindly grasped at his broad shoulders, seeking some kind of anchor as the burning feeling of his cock threatening to split you open sent your mind into a frenzy.

“So what, baby?” He cooed, body tense above you. “How does it feel? Come on, little bird, use your words.”

Nails dug into his shoulder blades as he worked himself into you. Hissing out a breath, he savoured the way your lower muscles clenched around his girth before relaxing, only to repeat the motion moments later, pulling him deeper into your heated sheath.

“So full. So so full, so fucking good.” You whimpered, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. It was a fullness, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Every nerve in your body had come to life, and a familiar heat began to pool in your lower body once again. Bokuto’s control began to slip, and he soon realised he was trembling above you in an effort to hold back. Heat was surging through his own body, clouding his mind and bringing him closer to his climax. If he didn’t move soon...

“Ah, fuck, I need…” He couldn’t finish the rest of his sentence, his mind was lost to the beast you’d unleashed inside of him. With a harsh snap of his hips, he sheathed the rest of his cock inside your wet heat.

A scream ripped from your throat as your poor cunt was suddenly filled to the brim with the Ace’s cock. His hips lay flush against yours as he bottomed out inside you, the plush head of his length kissing your cervix. He stretched your body in such a sinful way that for a second, you forgot how to breathe.

Even though you never wanted anything to do with him and the thought of him being inside you made you feel sick, you couldn’t stop your body’s natural reaction to him.

On instinct, your legs wrapped around his hips, heels pressing against his ass. You didn’t know where your confidence had come from, and in your lust-driven craze, you didn’t care. In fact, it was almost as if a switch had been flicked in your mind. All you knew was that you craved him.

“Shit, you’re choking my cock with that sweet little pussy. Fuck.”

“Koutarou...move. Please.” You panted, cutting him off, “I need you to move, now.”

The heels of your feet dug into his ass while you simultaneously rolled your hips into his. The movement sent flares of desire straight to your core.

Bokuto didn’t need to be told twice.

The first few of his thrusts were short and practised as if he was testing whether or not your body could handle him. When he was met with mewls and whimpers, he couldn’t stop himself from picking up his pace and slamming mercilessly into your greedy pussy.

The pressure you’d experienced before started to build once again, only this time it felt more intense, almost out of control as you writhed beneath him.

There were many ways you’d imagined losing your virginity; slow, soft, romantic sex with someone you’d known for years; gentle caresses and stolen kisses beneath a slither of moonlight as your lover whispered loving words into your ear.

This was nothing like that.

Bokuto’s thrusts were bruising, unforgiving, and the power behind each one jolted your entire body. He was animalistic as he fucked into you.

This wasn’t love-making. This was rough, hard fucking, and you found yourself growing intoxicated as you were forced to drink in every sensation he was pulling from you.

He’d been wrong before, you weren’t like the other girls at all. They’d all cried and begged for him to go easy. But you, you thrived on him using your body, even savoured the feeling of being fucked like a whore.

The realisation made his head spin. If you liked being fucked like a whore, he was happy to oblige.

A strangled cry echoed through the room when his teeth latched onto the sensitive skin of your nipple. His hot tongue swirled around the pebbled nub, sending bolts of desire splintering through you as the pressure inside you bubbled up and threatened to explode at any moment.

His mouth left you all too soon.

“Such a good girl. You’re taking my cock so well. Who knew a virgin could be such a dirty little slut? I bet you’re loving this, being used like a cocksleeve.” The words left his mouth in a rush as if he’d forget them if he didn’t get them out fast enough.

Leaning back, he hooked his arms beneath your knees, still continuing his assault on your cunt. He couldn’t help but reach around and press a hand on your stomach. Desire stirred in his groin when he felt himself moving beneath his palm.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. I’m practically in your stomach…” His words died off when he felt your walls begin to spasm.

“Kou, I’m- fuck- I’m going to cum.”

No, he wouldn’t let you cum just yet, it was too soon. He knew if he drew it out much longer, you’d be too sore for another round, but he wanted- no, he needed- to test just how far he could corrupt you.

Without thinking, he leant over your body and allowed a string of his saliva to slowly drip from his mouth. It gave you enough time to move if it was too much for you.

You didn’t move. No, instead you eagerly stuck your tongue out and waited for his spit to drip onto it, like a puppy begging for a treat.

When you swallowed it with a smirk on your face, he finally lost all semblance of control.

You weren’t entirely sure what happened next, but next thing you knew, you were stomach-down on the bed.

“Wha-”

The sound of impact as Bokuto’s hand met the supple flesh of your ass rang in your ears. You barely had time to register the searing heat blooming across your rear before he brought his hand down again on the opposite side.

“Get that fucking ass in the air.”

Bringing your knees under you and sticking your ass out as much as you could, you waited for his next move as your orgasm began to dwindle.

Bokuto bit his lip as he watched you present yourself to him, puffy lips glistening in the dim light.

Gripping your hip with one hand, he used the other to give your ass a few slaps with his length before realigning himself with your entrance. You were so wet and stretched so well that with a harsh snap of his hips, his entire length was buried deep in you with no resistance.

“Fuck!” Your voice was hoarse as you cried out from being stuffed with his cock again.

The angle this new position set had his cock dragging along your walls, caressing them as he fucked into your heat. The new pace he set was brutal as he chased his own high.

Skin against skin became the only sound in the room as his weighty balls slapped against your clit- each time the coil in your stomach tightened.

Your body stiffened when you heard him spit, followed by the feel of moisture coming into contact at the top of your ass.

He’d been lost in his mind as he watched your puffy slit suck in his length, and when his eyes travelled up to the puckered hole just above, he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t worry,” He spread the spit around your pucker with his thumb before gently applying pressure, “I’ll ruin this hole next time, little bird. But first, I want you to get an idea of just how good I can be to you.”

When his thumb slipped past the tight ring of muscle, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

A sense of euphoria settled deep within you as you lay there and let the Ace pound into you with reckless abandon.

Bokuto became drunk on the cries he was sure you didn’t even realise were falling from your mouth as drool pooled beneath your cheek and turned the bedsheets a darker shade.

It wouldn’t be long now. He could feel his balls tightening as heat spread through his body. Not to mention, your legs had started to quiver with the first signs of your release.

“You ready to come for me again, baby?” His hips never faltered from the harsh pace he’d set.

“I can’t...too much...fuck.”

He found it almost endearing that you thought you had a choice.

“Wrong answer.”

You didn’t think it was possible for him to fuck you any harder, but a last burst of energy had him pistoning his hips into you with such force that you had to reach above your head and press a shakey hand against the headboard to stop your body from jolting forward.

Your body couldn’t take much more stimulation and seconds later you cried out your release into the mattress.

Your first orgasm was nothing compared to the pure ecstasy you felt in those following moments as you came hard around the thick muscle still pumping into your aching walls.

Stars flashed across your vision as your toes curled, and your hands blindly clawed at the mattress. It was as if you’d been washed out to sea in an ocean of bliss, and you had no choice but to ride the waves crashing through you.

Bokuto’s thrust became sporadic until finally, his body went taut behind you, balls tightening as he emptied his seed into your spasming walls.

His cum was warm as it splashed against your cervix, staining every inch of your insides with the thick fluid.

White noise rang in your ears as your body rode out its chemical high.

Bokuto pulled his thumb and cock from your holes once his balls were empty. Once removed, your body collapsed to the side, exhausted.

Bokuto’s own energy was about to run out, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your twitching cunt. His cum had started to dribble out from between your swollen lips in a steady stream of white.

Instinct had him reaching out and pressing as much of it back into your body as he could. He ignored the weak cries that the action coaxed from your mouth as his fingers brushed against tender flesh.

He’d fucked you raw.

You’d be sore for days after this. Hell, a dull ache had settled in his own muscles.

With a groan, he used the last of his energy to scoop your thoroughly fucked body off the bed and carry you the short distance to the bathroom. Placing you gingerly down into the toilet seat, he only let go when he was sure you weren’t going to fall face-first onto the cold tile floor.

Grabbing a small cloth, he made quick work of rubbing the musky smell of sex from your body before jumping into the shower and ridding himself of the thin layer of sweat sticking to him. The warm water felt amazing against his skin, and suddenly, tiredness came over him. All of his limbs felt heavy as if weights had been attached to them. He’d definitely been rougher than he meant to- fucking never usually took this much out of him.

You’d been so lost in your after-sex daze that he almost jumped out of his skin when you finally spoke.

“So...When can we go again?” Your voice was far more lucid than he’d expected. It seemed in your daze you’d forgotten your hatred towards him. He knew some gentle persuasion was all it would take to unlock your inner animal.

Raising a brow, he turned to see a sly smile creep onto your face as you sat naked on his toilet.

You at least had the decency to blush at your request.

“I mean...that’s if you want to. Oh, and you’d better delete that video or I’ll rip your cock off and shove it down your throat.”

He thought you might just be a succubus after all.

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hatredcurse · 8 months ago

Text

After everything that had transpired with the Uchiha clan, Sasuke was never once vocal about his ability to see ghosts. For the last couple of years, he fooled himself into thinking he was merely viewing horrid replays of that fateful night; Itachi's cursed technique physically altering Sasuke's grey matter to forever hallucinate. So, in a way, when Sakura presented her dead friends in the woodland not-so-far from home, it brought Sasuke comfort that he had not gone mad from the abuse he suffered under his elders.

But also, it wrought discomfort in knowing he lived among those who cannot rest.

His thoughts were interrupted by Sakura's tug, dragging him along in the snow to a sizable temple. The saturated paints faded from age and lack of upkeep. It towered over them with an immense, commanding presence. One that beckoned respect and good behavior when drawing near.

" Oh, uh- "

Before he could speak his caution, Sakura had already pushed him inside. He wanted to say maybe they should wash their hands or even remove their shoes before they entered, himself not wanting to accrue malcontent from the deities within. Instead, he was left with pressing a palm to his chest and murmuring a silent request for entry despite it already being a forethought.

Specks of bright light danced around them. The Haruno referred to them as ' fireflies ', but the Uchiha felt like this was a misassumption. His held a palm up to one and noticed the lack of insectoid features on it, or maybe it was his imagination playing tricks on him, unable to cope with all this new sensory information.

" My dad told me that dragons ruined the land and rip through everything that they touch, " Sasuke releases the small sparkle to join her near the painting, " they were quick as lightning and just as deadly. "

Perhaps there is strength to be gleaned from such a beast. His dark eyes laid upon the art, soaking in the details from the gaping maw and over the elongated spine twisting about the decorations of clouds. What called to him was not the monster itself, rather the additions of lightning encircling it. He imagined himself wielding the element as dauntingly as the dragon did within its talons.

" I want to be strong too, " he clasps his other hand over Sakura's, officially enveloping her hand with both his own. She mentioned that he was already strong, but he wanted to be stronger. Beyond that, he wanted to be deadly himself. He wanted to kill as cruelly as his brother did, be as ruthless as he was to everyone whom ever cared for him. To be unblinkingly loathsome as Itachi was that night.

Those little hands tightened around the girl's, fueling with a sidelining anger at the mere thought of things the boy cannot control. Not yet.

" I want to rid the world of everything that bothers me and you. I want them to regret it and choke on their bad choices. "

Sakura was happy Sasuke was so comfortable with taking her hand. It wasn’t like that at first. When they were first becoming friends he would flinch away from physical contact. She always gave him space and allowed him to come to her. Not wanting to scare him away. But also because a lot of the girls that admired him had no issue putting their hands on him and Sakura didn’t want to be someone like that. It always made her angry because she could tell it made him uncomfortable, and despite the backlash she would get later, she always defended him and pushed them off him.

Over time, he learned to trust her. She remembers the first day he took her hand. They were sitting together after lunch, and he just slowly placed his hand over hers. As if looking for subtle comfort. It made her so happy to be trusted so much. Since then they often held hands just for both comfort and to stay close to each other,

“I know! I’d let them stay over like a big sleepover!”

Sasuke was aware that her parents were just about always gone. Which was why a lot of the bullying she gets put through was left unchecked. But despite her loneliness she never compared what she was going through to what he was going through. They were both lonely, yes, but Sasuke’s wounds ran deeper than just some parents that never had time for their kid. But in a way, together they helped both of their issues. Kept each other company. Sakura has even let Sasuke stay over a time or two when she could convince him to. She figured it might do him some good to get away from the compound sometimes.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to see my friends. There’s this really pretty shrine I found while exploring the woods and thought you’d think it's pretty too!”

With a tug, Sakura pulled them deeper into the woods, just not too much deeper. Soon they found themselves in front of an old building that has mostly been taken over by nature. It wasn’t a particularly big building but it was clear it was impressive back in it’s day of use,

“Come on! You have to see how the inside sparkles in the moonlight!”

Again, Sakura was pulling him along inside. Sakura’s little spirit friends were following them curiously, or were just keeping watch over the two children. At first, everything was dark but once they reached the middle of the shrine, moonlight poured in from the hole in the roof. It lit up the colorful floors and walls. Though a lot of it was faded, the gold lining on the floors and walls, glimmered in the moonlight,

“Sometimes when I want to get away, I come here… It oddly feels peaceful. I wonder what this place was used for. Sometimes, if you sit in her long enough, you can hear music and laughter, like a festival is going on. I read somewhere that people can leave echoes of energy behind in places. Maybe the music is an echo into this place's past.”

Sakura mused, as the both stood in the middle of the room bathed in moonlight. Some of the glimmer fireflies were floating around the room. She pointed to one of the faded paintings on the walls, though this one wasn’t as badly damaged as the others,

“This one is my favorite!”

It was a painting depicting a large red dragon wrapped around what might have been the shrine before it was abandoned. There was gold lining the dragon, making it sparkle,

“Papa told me Harunos comes from dragons! That’s why I have a weird amount of strength! That we’re supposed to be protectors!” Sakura turned to Sasuke and smiled, with a small blush on her face,

“I want to grow up and become strong, so I can protect Sasuke, like you protect me from the bullies!” She admired how strong Sasuke was already, Sakura wanted to catch up with him. Being book smart alone wasn’t going to get her very far. She’s been training harder than ever. Not just for him but herself as well. One day, she wanted to be able to hold her head up high and confidently, instead of shrinking down with her eyes focused on the ground.

#Sasuke ic #v. I WILL DEVOUR YOUR BEAUTY; I WILL FEAST UPON YOUR STRENGTH (Scorpion and the Frog)

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Lao Nie and Nie Mingjue have a good day together and bond. What was their relationship like before the qi deviation?

Boys - ao3

“Two paths, hmm?” Lao Nie said, squinting at the road markers in front of him. “Well, I don’t see why we can’t go down this one to the right –”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because little uncle asked me not to let you meet any new dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue said, looking as serious as ever – only his little hands, swinging to the side, revealed that he was just a ten-year-old. Still a child, no matter how mature he tried to act. “And a place called the Springtime Ghost Valley sounds like it probably has dangerous women.”

“Hey,” Lao Nie protested mildly. “Who’s the father here, me or you?”

“If a-die wants a new wife, little uncle will find one that isn’t inclined to kill him.”

That sounded like a recitation.

“Then what’s even the point,” Lao Nie grumbled, and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, enjoying how Nie Mingjue yelped when he did, glaring up at him with offended dignity.

In all honesty, Lao Nie had no idea how he’d ended up with a son as serious and sincere and earnest as Nie Mingjue – he himself hadn’t taken anything seriously in years. Probably it was his mother’s influence.

Now that was a woman.

Not that his foxy second wife hadn’t been woman enough to blow him away either…

Hmm.

Perhaps they had a point about his taste in women.

“How about men?” Lao Nie suggested. “If it really means so much to you, I could swear off of women entirely –”

“A-die.”

“Mm?”

“Leave Sect Leader Wen alone.”

Lao Nie cracked up.

Because Lao Nie was the father, however easy-going he might sometimes be, they ended up heading down the right-hand path regardless. They were supposed to be night-hunting, after all – it was the perfect bonding experience according to Jiwei, though Lao Nie suspected his saber of having selfish intentions there – and deliberately avoiding a place with ‘Ghost’ in the name was hardly appropriate for scions of a Great Sect like theirs.

Although the reference to springtime was admittedly a little worrisome.

If it turned out to be a brothel, with the ghost thing being just a clever if somewhat tonedeaf marketing ploy, Lao Nie was turning around and taking them both home at once. He wasn’t going to risk little Nie Mingjue turning out anything like that awful Jin Guangshan – or, nearly as bad, having to explain anything more about the joys of sex to those earnest little button eyes and dimpled cheeks with no time to prepare first. He still hadn’t recovered emotionally from the last few times Nie Mingjue had asked him a question like that.

When they finally reached the end of the path, turning a corner to behold a clearing that was probably completely ordinary during the daytime, Lao Nie found that he’d been both right and wrong.

“It’s a ghost brothel,” he marveled. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.

“Dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue reminded him.

“A-Jue! Let your father live a little!”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

Lao Nie virtuously ignored his slightly judgmental brat of a son. It wouldn’t do him that much harm to go visit for a while, with the risk of Jin Guangshan-ness being relatively minimal; they were ghosts, after all. It was the duty of every cultivator to fight against evil, wherever it lived, no matter its form –

“Fighting? Is that what it’s called?”

“Who taught you sarcasm?” Lao Nie asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer was himself. “I ought to smack them.”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at him. “Fine, it’s fighting, we’ll go fight them. Do you want me to start drawing ghost-repelling talismans?”

“Liberate first!” Lao Nie sang out. “Come on, let’s go see what they’re like – er, that is, I mean, see what grievances they have that are keeping them here, of course. There’s no harm in dangerous women. Just don’t let them eat your yang energy!”

“It’s not my yang energy that I’m worried about, a-die…”

The ghostly madame was an extraordinarily charming person and Lao Nie liked her at once.

Not liked her liked her – he’d fallen head over heels with both of his wives from the first word, and that hadn’t happened here – but still, conversing with her was an extraordinarily enjoyable way to spend time.

She was witty and clever, with a broad range of knowledge and a gift for keeping a conversation lively and exciting; she could meet every verbal riposte with ease, and looked utterly gorgeous and composed the entire time. Sure, she kept trying to lure Lao Nie into an orgy in which all of his yang energy would be slowly sucked out before his body was ripped to pieces and his bones cracked open so that the ghosts could consume the marrow within, but what a way to go, right?

Nie Mingjue spent his time making friends with the ghost prostitutes.

Lao Nie wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

Well, he supposed he’d been expected a range of things – anything from Nie Mingjue getting suckered in by one of the ghosts and needing to be rescued by his father to Nie Mingjue just pulling out his Baxia and trying to stab them because he felt offended by their existence. He wasn’texpecting his ghostly conversational partner to suddenly frown mid-sentence and say, “What is he talking to them about?”

Lao Nie turned his head slightly and started listening.

“– just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you have to work allthe time, surely,” Nie Mingjue was saying, completely serious and earnest in the way he so often was. Lao Nie’s son had in fact inherited his sense of humor, only it tended to be buried fairly deep down and make its way up to the surface in an understated way in the most unexpected times; the rest of the time, he was straightforward to a fault, treating everything sincerely. “The birds in the trees, the animals in the fields – even among prostitutes, even the street-walking ladies know they need to take time to rest! I can’t believe you really have to work every single night. How long has it been since you had a night off?”

The ghost prostitutes around him had contemplative looks on their faces.

“Isn’t the whole point of becoming a vengeful man-eating ghost that you have more power than regular humans? I don’t know, it kind of seems like a bad deal if you have even worse conditions after all that –”

“I’m sorry,” the ghostly madame said, looking irritated underneath all her carefully painted smiles. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment…”

Lao Nie had to bite his hand to keep from laughing out loud.

“I think we’ve all learned a valuable life lesson today,” Lao Nie announced.

Nie Mingjue was pouting again.

“I don’t think we did,” he said, sounding profoundly skeptical. A filial child like Nie Mingjue shouldn’t sound so skeptical of his beloved father’s words of wisdom, really; if Lao Nie wasn’t so heartless, he might be offended. Of course, the skepticism might have originated from the heartlessness, so it was all six of one, half a dozen of the other in the end. “Those poor ghost ladies! They were still fighting each other by the time we left!”

“I’ve never seen a ghost pull another ghost’s hair before,” Lao Nie conceded. It had been brilliant. “One day, someone’s going to figure out a more reliable way to use ghosts to fight ghosts, mark my words.”

“Isn’t that demonic cultivation?”

“Oh, sure,” Lao Nie said, still cheerful. “If whoever it is does too much of it, eventually it’ll build up into a backlash that’ll kill them in some grossly horrific manner. Probably ripped into pieces by the backlash. And that’s not even counting how they’d be ostracized and hunted by the cultivation world first! But still, imagine how exciting it’d be in the meantime!”

“A-die…”

Lao Nie patted Nie Mingjue on the head again, earning another glare. “Immortality is a lie, A-Jue. We’re all here for a short time, each and every one of us, and only the length determined by fate and man. All that matters is what we do with the time that we have, and whether we’ve used it well.”

“To fight against evil wherever it lives, no matter its form?”

“To leave the world a better place than when we entered it, and to let our memories linger in the hearts of those that love us,” Lao Nie said. “Fighting evil is the best way to accomplish the former, and living a good life the latter. And you might as well have a good time doing it, if you can! Everything else is just extra.”

Nie Mingjue thought about that for a moment. “And a-die likes to have second helpings of extras?”

That was true. Lao Nie was a man of prodigious appetites of all sorts.

Despite that, he protested, “That wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I was being serious for once.” Seeing Nie Mingjue’s skeptical look, he made a face. “I can be serious, sometimes!”

“Can you?”

“It’s been known to happen! A date written on a wall will be right once a year.”

“Not if the wall gets painted over.”

“Ouch,” Lao Nie said. “I don’t even understand the metaphor you’re making, and I’m still going ouch.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Mingjue said, utterly unimpressed. “You know, if you wanted one of the ghost ladies to be Third Mother, you would’ve been better off with the one playing the qin, not the ghost madame. She was much more powerful.”

Lao Nie arched his eyebrows. “Was she?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “She had claws like a lizard.”

Lao Nie tried to remember which one of them had been the ghost girl playing the qin. He couldn’t quite remember at first – the women there were all surpassingly lovely, almost to the point of over-saturation – and then suddenly an image came into view, a beauty with a veil and sharp sword-like eyebrows, leaning over the qin with the shining pearl hanging in the center of her forehead dipping down.

And, yes, claws like a lizard.

“Hmm,” Lao Nie said. “That might have been a dragon, actually. You should be careful of those, they’re tricky.”

They’ll rip you and three dozen other cultivators besides into more pieces than can be picked up without blinking an eye, he meant, and you won’t even know what hit you. Avoid at all costs.

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said, blinking. “Oops.”

“…what do you mean, oops?”

“Nothing bad! If I’m not supposed to interact with her, does that mean I should go and give back the gift she gave me?”

“She gave you a – give me that,” Lao Nie said. “This instant.”

“But a-die, you said there’s no harm in dangerous women –”

“For me, you foolish child!”

“I suppose it’s fine,” Lao Nie finally concluded, having inspected the dragon pearl from all angles several times over. “I don’t know how you do this, A-Jue.”

“Do what?”

Lao Nie thought about how his foxy second wife had cooed over his eldest son with a (slightly disturbing) fervor that she otherwise reserved only for eating snacks, and how viciously she’d dealt with anyone who’d even thought of interfering with Nie Mingjue in any way. He was fairly sure he himself had only survived his second marriage on account of having such a charming son.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to explain – or if he even entirely understood. “Anyway, it’s nothing dangerous. Rather the contrary! Dragon pearls like this are given to baby dragons to protect them.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “What feeds on baby dragons?”

“…I think it’s mostly to protect them from themselves,” Lao Nie said, feeling a little uncertain about it himself. “And if it’s not, I don’t think I want to know, to be perfectly honest. There’s fighting evil, which is only right, and then there’s suicide, which is a waste – a wise man should know how to judge the difference between them. Anyway, that wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”

“It wasn’t?”

“It wasn’t, and you aren’t allowed to start worrying about the fate of theoretical baby dragons – I forbid it.” Nie Mingjue scowled. He’d probably started worrying already. “My point was actually that a pearl like this is a remarkably powerful protective tool for cultivators – one of those things that can only be found by chance and not made. Keep this on you, and you’ll never have to fear your opponent in battle.”

Nie Mingjue looked thoughtful.

“What do you want to do with that pearl, anyway?” Lao Nie asked after they’d gotten home and split up just long enough to take a nice long relaxing bath and gobble down dinner. “Do you want to put it in the treasury?”

Nie Mingjue blinked twice, which for him was practically the same as looking terribly shifty-eyed.

“You already did something with it,” Lao Nie deduced. “Something that isn’t using it as intended.”

“Oh, no,” Nie Mingjue said, looking shocked at the mere suggestion. “I’m definitely using it as intended.”

Lao Nie looked him up and down. “You’re not wearing it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use it. Protection from your opponents in proper battle – that seems like cheating!”

Lao Nie felt a slight headache coming on. People who said they wanted a good boy for a son had no idea what they were getting themselves into, he reflected. Why couldn’t he have birthed a complete rascal instead?

“All right,” he said, instead of saying any of that because at the end of the day, bewildering as he might be, Nie Mingjue was his son and he loved him more than anything. “So what did you do with it?”

“I gave it to Huaisang.”

Lao Nie blinked. He supposed that really was using it for its intended purpose – protecting babies from themselves – although he suspected the dragon lady had been thinking of Nie Mingjue as the baby.

“Although…”

Lao Nie raised his eyebrows.

“…I think he may have swallowed it.”

My boys, Lao Nie thought, and had to sit down and hold his ribs because he otherwise feared he might split his sides from laughing so hard. Only my boys.

#mdzs #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #boys

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siempre-bucky · 3 years ago

Text

I.I.G.Y.M.H.W.Y.T.I.A.M.M.T.H.M.I.T.W?

COWBOY!BUCKY X READER

♡if I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world?

Summary: Nat and Wanda take the reader post break up to The Stark Ranch, a beautiful little place in the lush green countryside. God she hated it, she didn't want to be here only wanted him back. With one dip of a black cowboy hat and a deep-voiced greeting, the readers brooding would have to wait.

Part 1 of 3

Warnings: light mentions of past abuse,

WC: 3.8k

A/N: there was a tiktok and it was just cowboy Sebastian Stan and this fucking song!! Here's a thing I can't stop thinking about! I edited this the best I could.

In the long, rich history of bad ideas, this had to be the worst idea anyone has ever had. Here she was, squished in between her best friends in the back of an Uber. An old country song from the 60s played on the radio as the two redheads gushed about the small town they were driving through. The most popular restaurant back in Brooklyn probably had more people inside it than this little country town.

"Are you done brooding?" Wanda complains, her Sokovian accent purely intensified the distaste in her tone.

"All I want is John, back," Y/N mutters bitterly, her jaw clenched, sinking lower into the seat. Both women roll their eyes at her comment.

"You haven't stopped mentioning Walker since we got off the plane. It's been 2 months Y/N," Natasha reminds her, checking her watch that was peaking from her black leather jacket. "Don't forget this is why we're here! A getaway is just what you need."

Has it already been 2 months? It only felt like 2 weeks since he left. His last words still sent a chill down her spine "Did you really expect me not to cheat, Y/N? It's New York, get used to it, babe." Y/N shakes her head, trying to get that man's callous words out of her head. She felt like she was already at the acceptance of the grieving process. She clearly wasn't there.

Natasha suddenly gasps, the Stark Ranch coming into view with its black iron gates, its name the biggest thing on it. Y/N looks in Nat's direction, the 4 story red and yellow inn sat in the middle of a long dirt road and was nuzzled in with the saturated green grass and big trees. Y/N thought it was pretty but she would never admit that to her friends.

"Ladies you have a good time out here! I reckon you'll find our little town quite charmin'!" The older man tells them happily as his car comes to a stop in front of the inn. The girls give him their thanks and get out to take a look at the place.

Nat's hand shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up the place, a confident smile on her face since she picked out this place in the middle of nowhere. Wanda stood in the middle with her hands in her pockets and a relaxed smile. As for Y/N? she might as well have a dark cloud hanging over her. It smelled like grass and horses, her black ankle boots were covered in dust, and worst of all...Natasha blocked John's number. "Relaxation awaits girls!" Nat cheers as she leads her small pack into the front doors of the inn.

The inside was just a cute as the outside, country-style couches placed in the center with a mahogany coffee table littered in doilies. Guests laughed and chatted behind the french doors in the restaurant beside them. "Welcome to Stark Inn!" The front desk lady greets them, her strawberry blonde hair tied in a bun and a glossy smile on her features.

"You go check-in, I'm staying here," Y/N sighs, plopping down onto one of the floral couches, taking out her phone from her back pocket. Nat and Wanda rolled their eyes, pushing their luggage next to their friend before walking over to check-in.

She checked her phone 5 times, 5 different bell-sounding notifications from 5 different apps. Nothing from her former love, of course, not because he's blocked. The next bell sound didn't come from her phone but the front doors of the inn. The ding was followed by two men laughing loudly, one clapping the other on the back. The Y/H/C girl looks up at the source of the ruckus.

One was blonde, wearing a thin blue flannel shirt and dark jeans. He was cute, had a nice ass, and blue eyes a lady could swim in. The other man was a different story, however. A blush crept up her cheeks as she looked at him. His shoulder-length hair was tied up in a low bun, face nearly hidden by his black velvet cowboy hat. Fuck that man looked good in red flannel.

The said man looked down at her. Oh shit, she'd been caught staring at the two cowboys. Before she could look away the one in red smirked at her and dipped his hat "ma'am," he speaks in greeting, his voice was low and raspy, sending butterflies to her stomach and other regions.

"H-hi," Y/n says shyly, like a schoolgirl whose crush finally talked to her. The man turned away and walked away to walk towards the front desk, mud left behind from their boots which they were quickly scolded for.

"Well while you boys are makin' a mess 'round my inn you can take help these girls up to their room," Pepper, the co-owner huffs "307... the nice one." Pepper waves them off, turning to grab the keys to the room.

Natasha eyed the blonde man up and down, resting her back on the front desk, propping her elbows up behind her. "Hi there cowboy," she speaks to him flirtatiously, her pink lips form a smirk. The man ducks his head and laughs.

"Hi there. I'm Steve."

"Natasha."

Y/N rolled her eyes at the flirting, rising from the couch she went to grab the handle of her bag but was met with cold metal. Her eyes flew up to see the man in the back cowboy hat already grabbed a hold of it "I'm assumin' this is yours?" he chuckled with that honey-like voice. Y/N nods and crossed her arms over her chest, her hand still feeling the chill of his hand.

She followed behind them, taking the red-carpeted stairs. She was behind them enough to stare at the broadness of his shoulders, a small smile appeared on her lips thinking about what it would be like to run her hands down his back. No, she quickly erased the image out of her mind. That thought returned as they climbed the second set of stairs, her Y/E/C traveled down his back and landed on his backside as he climbed. A red rag hung out of his back pocket.

The man turned around as they reached the top, catching her stare at him "I'm Bucky," he tells her, breaking her out of her trance. Bucky was 2 for 2 catching her stare at him. The red in her cheeks matched the vibrant red of the rag her eyes were once fixated on.

"Y/N," she responds simply, her voice quiet.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." His words made her skin tingle, small bumps rising to the surface of her clothed skin. Her green jacket covering all the evidence.

"It's nice to meet you too, Bucky," she ponders over his name for a minute "did your parents name you that?"

Bucky laughed, oh God his laugh was precious "No, uh- my name is actually James. Bucky is just a nickname, I like it better," he explains. Y/N moved from the back to his side as they walked up the final set of stairs.

"Both names are nice," Y/n chuckles, "they suit you." They both looked at each other and instantly smiled, she even unfolded her arms and let them linger at her side. She forgot what it was like to be comfortable after all this time. Walking on eggshells for a man who could set off at any moment was what she grew accustomed to. This was nice, even she had to admit that.

The two girls in front couldn't help but give each other a knowing look, Steve even joined in. "He hasn't dated in years," he whispers to Natasha as they approached the room.

"A shell of a man cheated and dumped her," Wanda tells them in a hushed voice.

They reached the white door with a golden plate '307' written in script numbers. "This is the best room at the inn!" Steve starts to gush, placing the bags on the ground.

"Clear view of the stables, horses walking around all the time," Bucky chimes in, his elbow nudging Y/N the arm. he looked up at him with raised eyebrows but he wasn't looking at her this time. Did he do that on purpose? No. Probably not.

"Well... we'll let you ladies get settled in. Don't hesitate to reach out of you need anything." Steve dipped his hat and started to walk away, clapping his friend on the shoulder, turning him to walk in the same direction.

"See you around, Y/N," Bucky told her before walking away. Her eyes lingered on the tall man as he walked away and even he turned around to catch another glance at her. 3 for 3.

"Did someone catch feelings already?" Natasha laughed as he unlocked the room. Y/N eyebrows furrowed in anger, walking in after her friends, roughly brushing past the sassy redhead.

"All I want is John back. I don't know what the hell that was out there," she defended herself, snarling as she sat in the chair by the large windows, her legs hanging off the ledge.

The women hung their heads and began to unpack "You can have the other bedroom," was all Wanda said before the conversation ended. Y/N felt the guilt rise in her heart. She didn't mean to be so blunt and rude to them, in the back of her mind she knew they knew they were trying. She was trying too.

Time had passed and clothes were hung and folded away in their drawers. Nat sat on her laptop looking for places to eat in town while Wanda checked in with her husband and kids back home. Y/N hadn't left the chair since they arrived. Checking her phone for someone who couldn't talk to her.

"Look at this cute little place in town! It's home cooking they call it. We should go," Nat tells the girl happily.

"I'll call the Uber after I talk to Tommy," Wanda joins in.

"I-I don't want to go," Y/N says, her voice softer than before. She turns his attention to the sables below her, a black horse being led by the man in the black hat. "Bucky," she whispers to herself. She watches him, his lips were moving, obviously talking to the beautiful animal. A smile dared to appear on her face while she watched him, she saw her reflection and she sucked in her lips. Her attention went back to her friends.

"We're not going to let you coop yourself up in this room all night, Y/N." Natasha squints her eyes in judgment, closing her computer with a loud thud.

"And I don't want to make this trip miserable for you guys. I just need to be by myself for a while."

"That's what we're afraid of. It took 2 weeks to get you out of your apartment."

"I'm doing better now!" she shouts, realizing what she did she gulped and sat straight up in the chair, placing her feet on the floor "I'm sorry, Nat. Please just go, have fun and I promise we'll do that spa ay like you wanted tomorrow."

"Fine, but give me your phone," Wanda interjected, holding out her hand while her other one placed her phone in her back pocket. Y/N scrunched her nose and shook her head. Wanda's eyebrows lowered, her hand still stretched out as she walked towards her. She cocked her head, striking fear into the Y/H/C. She hated when Wanda did that.

"How are you going to reach me if something bad happens?"

With the phone now in Wanda's hand, Nat said "We'll call the front desk."

The girls had left, telling Y/N to make her time alone useful. She wanted to sit and wallow in her never-ending sadness. She remembered a time like this at a New York lawyers convention when John left her in the room for hours while he partied downstairs. No, no, she didn't want it to be like this even if it was her choice now.

The stables. She walked over to the window and saw the red building empty from what it looked like. Maybe she could get a glimpse of the horse she saw. Bucky didn't even cross her mind then or was that the reason she wanted to go so badly. No, it had to have been the horse she saw. Keep telling yourself that.

Y/N stayed back a bit longer, giving Nat and Wanda enough time to leave the property. They would never let this go after the stable comment Bucky made. She stepped outside, the sun starting to set and a small chilled breeze brushes past her. Lurking around to make sure no one was there she slowly walked into the stable, the horses not paying her any attention.

There she was, the beautiful black mare standing her her stall, her face poking out of the window. Y/N walked over and let the horse sniff the palm of her hand "You're so pretty, my darling," Y/N beams, rubbing her nose. The horse nickered, making the woman laugh "You like compliments don't you."

"She craves attention!" A voice called out from the other side of the barn. Y/N whipped her head to the side, her heart thumping against her chest. Bucky started making his way over, two silver buckets in his strong arms. The sweat on his face didn't go unnoticed by her, she swallowed hard and took a step back from the horse.

"I-I didn't see a stay-out sign, I'm sorry if I'm not all-" her rambling was cut off by his soft chuckle and the clang of the buckets now on the ground.

" I don't mind, doll. Clementine loves the company." I was hoping you'd show up, he kept that to himself of course. "While you're here, do you want to help me brush her? She gets sad if I don't do it before I leave."

Y/N smiles softly and nods at him, her hands folded in her lap. Bucky eagerly opened the stall and allowed her to enter first. He ran around to empty the feed buckets and placing the buckets on the shelf. He pants as he hands her a brush, his awkward smile earning a thank you.

Bucky stood on one side while she stood on the other, brushing the shiny coat of Celmentines's body. The silence was a comfort and the soft brushing noises were music to their ears. She enjoyed the silence and stolen glances at each other. His steel-blue eyes fixated on his favorite horse, she'd never seen someone look that loving towards someone else.

He breaks the silence "So what brings you guys all the way out to our neck of the woods?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Because 'I'm desperately trying to get over a man who ripped my heart out' doesn't scream approachable. She bit her lip and looked at him from the other side of the horse, their searching eyes meeting.

"Fella did me wrong so my friends decided a getaway was the best medicine," she explained, a watered-down version of what the real devastating truth was.

Bucky nods as he listens to her, slowly making his way to her side, brushing Clementine's hip as a cover. He didn't push it any further, now wasn't the time and he remembered her somber appearance when he first met her in the lobby "Where ya from?" He asks instead

"Brooklyn." His ears perk up, he hadn't thought about that city in so long.

"Brooklyn?" he hums, "how's the city these days?"

"Busy," she responds, looking over at him trying not to act surprised that he moved closer. "You've been?"

"Once or twice." 7 years. He frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N hums and starts to brush the side of her neck. Clementine whinnies, making the woman jump back. "I-It's ok," Bucky tells her kindly, holding out his hand, "she likes that, let me show you." He takes off his hat and tosses it on top of the hay pile behind them.

His flesh arm placed at on her midback, bringing her closer to the horse. His metal arm covers her hand to guide the brush down Clementine's neck. The sound of her own heart was deafening, he was so close she could pick up everything. The smell of hay and horses mixed in wish musk and was the cedar? It was manly...just like him. The stands of loose hair stuck to his forehead, small grey hairs mixed into his stubble.

Her eyes shifted away from his face onto the sight in front of her, his hand over hers, the gold and black metal shining in the overhead light. She wondered if he could feel her. "Your arm?" she questions barely audibly.

"It was a military accident...I fell," he responded, she couldn't tell if there was sorrow in his voice or he was just accustomed to explaining it all the time.

"It's nice! I hope I didn't offend you," she tried to pull away from the situation she created but his flesh arm held her still. He looks down at her and smiles.

"You didn't. It was a long time ago."

His reassurance got her to relax. They eased into small talk about their lives, she learned that he was born here and always helped the Starks on the ranch when they opened it, leading into a job when he got out of school. He was kind and funny, made her heart constantly skip beats when he said something nice. It made her forget John Walker for a while.

The sun went down, the auto light of the stables turned on. Bucky knew he should've clocked out by now, but this was far better. She was sad, he knew that, but when she relaxed she was surprisingly funny with her quick wit, soft smiles, and her newfound love for his favorite girl Clementine.

"Have you ridden before?" he asks as they finish, taking her brush back.

"No," Y/N laughs as she recalls her childhood, "I saw a boy fall off one at summer camp and I swore I'd never do it. I admire from afar."

Bucky joins in on the laugh while he grabs his hat and dusts off the loose straws of hay on his hat. Y/N bits her lip and pats Clemintine one last time before the pair walked towards the door "Watch your step," he warns, holding his metal hand out for her to take. She looks at him for a moment, feeling like her feet were cement. Her eyes flash from his hand to the softness in his eyes.

"Fucking hell Y/N let's go!" John's hand outreached for her, it was shaking, matching his anger. "I'll fucking leave you here. You know, fuck it. Walk home." That hand turned into a fist... she didn't like that fist.

Hesitantly she takes it, her nervous fingers wrapping around his palm as he guided her over the edge of the stall and onto the main ground of the stable. "Thanks for letting me brush her, it was nice," she smiled, still holding his hand. She wasn't the only one who didn't let go.

"Any time, doll. How long are ya here for?"

"5 days," she responds. Not enough time, he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well you can come down any time you'd like, Clem would like the company." I would too.

Y/N finally realized she was holding his hand, her eyes went wide and pulled away suddenly, her nervous chuckle ringing in his ears "I-I should go... thank you again Bucky."

She scurries off towards the inn, their hands still tingling. He'd never been this happy to still have nerves in his arm "God bless Wakanda tech," he praised under his breath, clenching and unclenching the hand.

"Y/N! Wait a minute," he shouts stopping her mid way. She turns and see's him standing there in the overhead light of the stable, like he was waiting for her to get there safely.

"Yeah?" she questions, matching the volume of his voice.

"While you're here you should try Happy's Diner! Best coffee in town!"

"I thought this place did?"

"Don't let Pepper convince you!"

Y/N giggles and nods "I will. Goodnight Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N!" He watches her leave, making sure she was safely inside, she turned to catch one last glance at him making the brunette smile at her and waving her off.

It would be another hour before Natasha and Wanda returned to the room, finding their friend in the same position in the chair by the window. This time her shoes were dustier than before, black hairs visible on her cream-colored shirt. She stared at the cowboy painting on the wall in front of her like her life depended on it "What did you do all day, Y/N?" Wanda asks, tossing Y/N's phone on the bed.

She expected her to run and grab it, feverishly checking the messages John couldn't send. That reaction never came, she didn't flinch when the phone landed on the bed with a soft thud. Her mind was still a blur, Bucky was kind, he held his hand out for her and got her to the other side of the stall...he waited for her.

"This," Y/N remarks, coming out of her thoughts pointing to the chair she was occupying. The spy in the leather jacket didn't buy it, looking at the differences in her clothing and demeanor.

"Sounds like a bore," Nat sighs, deciding to let it go for a moment.

"How was the restaurant?" Y/N yawns, getting up and walking past them. The two redheads sniffed the air as she passed, it smelled like Y/N had been sleeping in a barn. Well, that was almost true.

"What the hell is that smell?" Wanda grimaced, her nose scrunching at the foul smell. Y/N stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, she wasn't about to tell them about her time in the stable with Bucky. She brought her shirt up to her nose, fuck, it was her.

"Must be the atmosphere," she laughed it off, "I'm going to bed!" She rushes off before the accusations came and she knew they would come.

The door to the adjoining room slams shut and the girls give each other a knowing look "Twenty bucks says she smuggled Walker in here," Wanda bets.

"Nah, it was the guy with Steve. She blushed way too much to have done nothing about it."

"Fair."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #cowboy!bucky #cowboy!bucky x reader #sebastian stan imagine #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky au

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todoscript · 4 years ago

Text

Love Capsule

anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?

genre: fluff pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 4.8k+ warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.

author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).

There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.

It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.

“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”

Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”

“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.

“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”

“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.

“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.

“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.

“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.

Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should’ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.

It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.

Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.

“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.

“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.

“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.

The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”

When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.

“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.

What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.

What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.

“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”

At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.

“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”

Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”

His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.

It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.

“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.

So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.

But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.

“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.

“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.

“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.

Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.

Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.

As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”

Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.

You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.

At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.

The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.

But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?

Deku. Fucking Deku.

Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.

But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.

But it seems God just desires to spite him.

“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.

“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.

“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.

“No.”

“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.

He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.

Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.

“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.

“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.

Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.

Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.

Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.

“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.

“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.

Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.

Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.

By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.

The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—

“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.

Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.

Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.

Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.

Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.

“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.

“Huh? Why?”

“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”

His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.

Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.

Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.

Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.

Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.

Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.

And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.

And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.

The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.

You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.

Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.

“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.

With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.

“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.

When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.

Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!

The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.

Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!

“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”

Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.

It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.

“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.

“I… Urgh… Fuck…”

You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.

“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.

“No. Tell me.”

With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.

“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.

“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.

“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”

He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”

The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.

“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.

“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.

His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.

“You got yourself a deal, princess.”

You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”

“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”

“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”

“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”

“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”

You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.

“I want one too!”

Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.

“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”

“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.

“Argh… I mean... scram!”

You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.

Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.

“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.

He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.

You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.

“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”

Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.

#bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugou scenarios

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