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#if you need a translation for any of their quirks just ask
wearygrandiloquent · 3 months
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garbledSaphrophyte Typing Quirks
Virosa Amanit/FNG-A1 and FNG-A2
VIROSA TALKS IN ALL CAPS AND IN ORANGE AND USES A LOT OF INTERNET SLANG AND NOT ENOUGH PUNCTUATION LMAO
AND ALSO [fng-a2 interrupts virosa's text in green brackets in all lowercase and also doesn't use a lot of punctuation] BUT [most of the time fng-a2 will only do this to censor virosa and doesn't have much to say and will often just leave blank boxes to shut up fng-a1] LIKE [ ].
FNG-A's handler
fng-a'S handleR haS A verY higH squeakY voicE, sO hE capitalizeS thE lasT letteR oF wordS anD endS everY sentencE witH aN exclamatioN poinT!
Tedrei Aancit
Tedrei Aancit has no typing quirk, but uses the boldened chat font and proper language and grammar. This could be to symbolize that they've given up individuality in favor of professionalism. It could also be to symbolize that I didn't want to type out that long pinned post with a fucking typing quirk. Hint: it's the second one.
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flokali · 8 months
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Hi!! I am brainrotting and cannot get it out of my mind, so I thought to share. A very simple thought.
Accolyte Zhongli. Very willing to please et cetera. But biting him? Like come on, biting a Dragon? Is it ownership? Is it playful bite? You know, the sudden urge to bite someone (or is it just me?). So biting a very willing Zhongli.
Sobbing. This will haunt me for a while.
Slight NSF_W
Thinking so many thoughts... happy belated valentines day every1 ><
Warnings: NB! Reader, yandere!Zhongli, SAGAU, implied Dom!Reader/Sub!Zhongli, unhealthy relationship dynamics, biting, soft-violence (?), possessive behavior, jealousy, ask to tag!
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Dragons in Liyue are known to be loyal, fierce, and elegant; the stories always describe them as powerful beasts who are to be respected, with sincere hearts and wisdom beyond a mere mortal’s understanding.
In a way, such behaviors did translate to your acolyte, Zhongli. He was one of your oldest followers, not just in age but time serving you, over six millenia he has existed and can proudly state he’s worshiped you for most of it. You would think that the years would have mellowed him out, polished up the edges of his devotion, soothe the tempest in his heart into a much milder dribble, and yet – you knew very few of your acolytes who could rival the passion he seemed to hold towards you.
The relationship between you and all of your followers was strange, at least to you — going from a normal person to being worshiped as a God was not an easy process, much less in a world as different from your own as Teyvat was to Earth — however none were perhaps as strange as the relationship between you and Zhongli.
He is always at your side, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep. At first, his insistence on being your attendant had been met with heavy resistance from the others but his stubbornness greatly overpowered their annoyance; no matter what rotation you were in, Zhongli was always by your side.
You knew of his vessel, Morax, the large dragon that he’d used to fake his death, and you knew that “Zhongli” wasn’t his true form – you just hadn’t guessed some traits would have seeped into the other form or maybe it was simply part of his personality.
He was possessive and overprotective over you, it was like an internal struggle between submission and the need to monopolize you was constantly going on in his head, yet he refused to outwardly admit it.
“I am simply concerned for you, Your Grace.” He’d say whenever you’d bring up his overbearing nature, considering that he and the rest viewed you as an all-powerful being, you’d think he’d have more trust in your ability to protect yourself. And yet, whenever he’s allowed, he’ll always attempt to deter you from leaving his side. At some point you realized it was probably for his sake rather than your own, but by then you had grown endeared to the man and decided to allow it anyway.
Even as your most loyal follower who you spent most of your days with, Zhongli had his quirks and habits about him that simply baffled you – no matter how many days you’d spent with the former Archon, there were just things he’d do and say that’d leave you questioning all you knew about him prior.
All you really knew about him before was reduced to what had been revealed in game, from the Traveler’s perspective and the NPC’s who’d speak about him. Meeting him and interacting with him quickly let you know that his personality, at least when directed towards you, was quite different from what you had assumed from your previous observations.
An example of such discrepancies was his obsessive need to please you.
The traditional Liyue clothes you once complimented him on? Most of his wardrobe has changed to include such attires more frequently. The hair accessory you bought him once when you traveled to Fontaine? You don’t think you’ve seen him without it since. That one time you complimented him when he wore warmer tones? It seems his closet has been rid of any other color.
It was unsettling if not a bit cute, who wouldn’t be a little bit flattered to know their opinion held such weight to a man such as Morax; but it was only a matter of time before it all escalated
Somewhere, at some point, your relationship with Zhongli changed – morphing into something more complex than you would have expected. You would soon wonder if he was classified more so as a lover or some sort of concubinus than a mere helper, his role as an attendant seeming more like a guise so he could spend his time with you each day.
Fleeting touches now lasted longer, the feeling of his hot gaze on you burned stronger with every passing moment, it was a natural escalation; kisses now were no longer restrained to the hand, they now landed on your lips, your cheeks, your neck, wandering hands found their home in your waist and the small of your back.
When he told you he loved you, you knew not if he spoke as a devotee or a lover.
It was during a heated make out session that you found out his weakness to being marked and claimed, much to your surprise. He’d been quite insistent on not leaving a single mark on your person, not a hickey or bite, you guessed it must have been a preference but never asked about it either. You decided that, for the time being, you would avoid the topic until it naturally came up - and up did it come.
You had been on top of him, sitting on his lap and caressing his hair as your lips danced with one another’s, his golden eyes were shut tight in pleasure as he let you use his lips and body as you wished. His hands rested on your waist, tightly gripping at your robes and skin as he desperately clung onto your body. Soft whines left his lips periodically, his breathing was quick and you could feel his heart beating where your chests met.
You playfully decided to trail kisses across his face, at first he whined when he felt the loss of your lips on his but he soon fell quiet – other than a few moans and whimpers – as you left open mouthed kisses into his skin and down his neck.
It’s there that, in the heat of the moment, you decide to bite his neck, leaving a small hickey on his flushed skin. His reaction is immediate; his head falls backwards, his whole body heats up and you feel something stiffen below you, his face burns a bright red as a loud moan escapes his lips. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin to a point you are certain it’ll leave a mark, and his heartbeat quickens; pleasure basically radiates off of his body the minute your teeth nib at his neck.
You stop, teeth sunken into his skin and hand tangled in his hair, his reaction so lewd and surprising you become flustered and stop dead in your tracks.
Zhongli, however, only pulls you tighter into his body, using a hand to press your face deeper into his neck, as if urging you to use more force in your bite – timidly you give in and nibble into his flesh, further deepening the imprint of your teeth in his skin. His whole body feels hot to the touch, his mind feels hazy, your soft bites into his skin send shockwaves through him.
You had no idea what you were doing to him, did you? Or else you wouldn’t have been so careless when picking the spot, but it doesn’t matter, in this moment of intense pleasure, the former Archon decides to give into delusion and believe you knew the meaning behind biting a draconic being such as himself — and in the neck of all places as well.
Old traditions dictate that a bite mark, especially in the jugular or neck, was a sign of ownership. It was often that mates would mark each other in the neck with enough force to leave scars, sinking sharp teeth into one another with ironic tenderness. It showed trust and care for the other, both to be marked and leave a mark, as it required vulnerability and care from both parties. It was a deeply intimate act, one that would be reserved to life-long partners and mates, it was a gesture of possessiveness and devotion tinted with love.
If he were to be honest, Zhongli would have thought himself to be the one to mark you instead of the other way around, it’d been something he’d often fantasized at night before your arrival, and yet, as he felt your — significantly duller teeth — bite into him he could feel his admiration and love for you grow as he became yours; even if you may not have known.
He’d always imagined himself on top of you, your naked form beneath him, as he sunk his canines into your flesh until he tasted your holy blood. He’d imagined himself cradling your pleasure stricken body while you moaned his name, a sinful sound coming from a divine being. Instead, it is himself that lays within your grasp, panting in ecstasy as he holds himself back from coming completely undone and showing a depraved side of himself even he did not know of.
If he was honest, he almost wishes you’d draw blood, sink your teeth so deep into his skin it breaks layers of flesh and leaves a deep scar that could never heal – a sign of your favoritism and ownership, one that he could proudly say was unique to him. If only you weren’t so careful with him, so scared of hurting him; he means no offense, but your current form is significantly weaker than his and he’s survived wars most have not heard of; even if you wanted to sink your nails into his skin and carve your name into his body, he thinks his strength and shear devotion to you alone would prove the pain to be nonexistent.
A gasp of your name leaves his parted lips, it’s erotic - the way his pink lips let a symphony of pleasured sounds - a wave of hormones rushing through his body, sending his brain into overdrive.
You look up at him, not having expected such a lewd reaction, but the sight of his half-lidded eyes as they burn into your own sends a hot-buzz down your spine. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bloodied as he bites them, his bare chest is heaving up and down; the expression on his face is orgasmic. His loose hair sticks to his forehead as sweat runs down his temples, clearly your gesture had taken quite an effect on him.
You slowly remove your lips from their spot, about to question his reaction - wondering if you’d perhaps crossed a line, but he stops you with a crooked smile and warm hands against the back of your head.
“It is okay, Your Grace,” he whispers, tongue darting to wet his drying lips, he guides your head back into his neck, “bite me all you want, my neck is yours for the taking.”
You giggle a bit at his eagerness, feeling his hard-on press against your ass. You playfully adjust yourself in his lap, softly nipping at his neck before biting down in a new spot.
“Ha-ah,” he moans once more, you feel him startle beneath you, “don’t be afraid to draw out blood, either… in fact, please, feel free to do so.”
He can only hope you take on the challenge, eager to flaunt your lovely bites to Neuvillette and any poor soul that even so much as thinks of questioning his position in your life.
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pomefioredove · 1 month
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Hey Dove~
I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.
You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!
OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference
twst x mute reader
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader with a speech impediment
summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu
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see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it
he's not one to criticize strangeness
that would be rude, first of all
second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC
(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)
he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either
he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six
he's certainly patient
and he knows how to use context
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?
for a while, he just thought you talked fast
he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself
no biggie
then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...
...oh! no!
of course he's not annoyed!
Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it
you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything
he just watches you talk
and smiles
like this -> :)
it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...
observing
humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks
he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you
which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...
he teaches himself your language
and he becomes a sort of translator for you
any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it
weird, but nice
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems
whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him
it's not his job to worry over you
then, you come to him asking for help, and...
...well, he's flattered
he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else
because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you
whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?
perhaps, but it's true
he's mastered the art of observation
he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away
he just knows
you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook
(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)
and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything
you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little
only in good fun, of course
and only if you respond in kind
but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words
he won't correct you or interrupt you, either
he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable
he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though
he cares <3
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ahqkas · 4 months
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Theodore with gf!reader who’s eyes are easily teary. For example she’s laying down and the side of her eye just tears up. Like her eyes just get teary for no reason and she’s trying to tell someone she isn’t crying. It’s very embarrassing for her as Theodore get protective of it seems like she’s crying.
STRAY TEARS ; theodore nott
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HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
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YOU WERE LYING ON ONE OF THE PLUSH COUCHES IN THE SLYTHERIN COMMON ROOM, NESTLED UNDER A SOFT, WOOLEN BLANKET. The day's stress had left you feeling drained, and you found comfort in the gentle murmur of the crackling fire. As you lay there, staring at the ceiling, you felt an all-too-familiar feeling: a single tear slipping from the corner of your eye and trailing down the side of your face.
It wasn’t unusual for your eyes to water without any particular reason. They had a mind of their own, and tears often came without your permission to do so, a simple quirk of your physiology. Yet, every time it happened, you felt a wave of embarrassment. People often misinterpreted your teary eyes as a sign of distress, and explaining that you weren’t actually crying became a tiresome routine.
As you brushed the tear away, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. Your boyfriend’s presence was unmistakable — there was a certain quiet confidence in the way he moved. He entered the room, his eyes immediately finding you on the couch. His brow furrowed slightly as he noticed the tear-streak on your face.
“Hey,” Theo said softly, coming to sit beside you. The concern in his eyes was visible, a deep-seated protectiveness that made your heart ache with both gratitude and frustration. “What’s wrong?”
You quickly wiped at your eyes, a weak attempt to stop the tears that weren’t really there for any particular reason. “Nothing,” you replied, your voice steady but tinged with a hint of exasperation. “It’s just my eyes. They do this sometimes.”
Theo’s frown deepened, his protective instincts flaring. “Are you sure?” he asked, gently lifting your chin to get a better look at your face. His thumb brushed away a stray tear with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine.
Trying to reassure him, you offered the boy a nod. “I promise, Theo. It’s just how my eyes are. They get teary for no reason.”
Despite your words, you could see the concern lingering in his gaze. Theo had always been fiercely protective of you, his natural inclination to shield you from any discomfort or harm. It was one of the things you loved most about him, but in moments like these, it also made you feel a bit self-conscious.
“I hate seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Even if it’s nothing serious, I don’t like the thought of you being upset.”
You reached out, placing a hand on his. The warmth of his skin against yours was a grounding presence, a reminder that he was there for you, no matter what. “I know, and I appreciate it,” you said softly. “But really, it’s nothing to worry about. My eyes just have a mind of their own.”
Theo’s expression softened, a small, rueful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it,” he said, his tone lightening. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry.”
You laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in the room. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you teased gently, squeezing his hand.
As the evening wore on, you both settled into a comfortable silence, Theo’s protective presence a constant reassurance. He stayed close, his hand never leaving yours, a silent promise that he would always be there, ready to offer support and comfort whenever you needed it.
And as you drifted off to sleep, your head resting on his shoulder, you felt a profound sense of peace. With Theo by your side, you knew you could face anything — even the inexplicable tears that sometimes fell from your eyes.
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slayfics · 3 months
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Hello, good morning mate!
So, I don't know if request are open in the moment, you can ignore this request if it's closed :'D
A Bakugou x reader, reader is sick as hell but go training with bakugou anyway, until they almost pass out. Make the reader stubborn as hell! And most importantly have fun ^^
Sorry for my bad english, I'm too lazy to use the translate
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Katsuki gets mad when you push yourself too hard.
700 words
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Your head pounded and your body ached, but you pulled on your hero costume regardless. The illness crept up slowly through the day but was now hitting you hard.
Your head was hot and your knees weak, yet you intended to meet with Katsuki to spar. You both had made these plans earlier in the week. He was going to help you with some of your defensive moves and you couldn't pass up the training.
You had been looking forward to it all day, and being that Katsuki was one of the top heroes in your class you were excited to learn from him.
The thought crossed your mind to reschedule with him but then you imagined the taunts he'd give you. Putting you down for letting a simple cold get the best of you. The way he'd scold you for not being stronger, and question what you would do as a pro. Pros couldn't just let a cold stop them and not taking on a villain right?
You slowly made your way over to the gym to meet Katsuki for training, feeling worse and worse with each passing moment.
"You look like crap," Katsuki said at the first sight of you.
"Hi to you too," you said back sarcastically.
"You feeling alright?" He asked.
"I'm fine," you lied hoping he wouldn't question you any further.
"We can do this another time if you need to rest," he suggested.
"I said I'm fine, just teach me what you've been talking about all week," you responded back shortly.
Katsuki clicked his tongue at your attitude, "Fine if you are so eager, attack me and I'll show you," he instructed.
Katsuki watched as you made a sad attempt at attacking him. Your attack was half the speed it usually was, and your flushed cheeks gave away how sick you must have been feeling.
Barley needing to use his quirk Katsuki easily dodged, "The hell? You're definitely not feeling well. Let's go back to the dorms," he urged.
"No! I was just getting warmed up. Let me try again," you said stubbornly.
Katsuki rolled his eyes, "Fine, go ahead," he agreed.
You came at him again but then time he easily stepped to the side, leading you to crash down on the floor from the momentum.
"Dumb ass, "he huffed out, quickly extending his arm to help you up. You grabbed his hand, and he pulled you up. "I'm not training with you like this. You're obviously sick."
"I can handle it!" You yelled back.
"Didn't ask you if you could handle it. I said I'm not doing it," he said sternly. "We're going back to the dorms and you're getting rest. How the hell are you supposed to be a pro hero if you can't even take care of yourself?" He said harshly.
You felt your eyes sting at his harsh words. You came to train despite being sick because you didn't want him to think you couldn't be a pro for letting a cold get to you, but here he was telling you the opposite. You needed to recognize your own needs first.
Katsuki's eyes widened at the growing tears in your eyes, "Cut that shit out!" He barked, secretly feeling bad for his outburst.
You ran your hand across your face, wiping off the tears. "I thought you'd give me shit for canceling on you for being sick," you said honestly.
"Hah!? Course not! You're not at your best when you're sick and I only want to spar with you when you're giving me everything you got." He spoke.
You sniffed back tears composing yourself and nodded at his words.
"Besides you can't be a hero and fight for others if you don't look after yourself first... Let's go back to the dorms. I'll make you something to eat and we can try this again next week," he declared.
"Thank Bakugo" you spoke softly.
"You can thank me by taking better care of yourself. Come on, let's get you some rest," he said motioning for you to walk with him back to the dorms.
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Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!
sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3
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de4dlyniightshade · 8 months
Text
꩜ QUEEN OF HEARTS
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꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader
꩜ RATING: +18, mdni
꩜ WORD COUNT: 3.8k
꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, public sex, sub!virgin!spencer, cumming in pants, thigh riding(ish), fingering, praise, a little exhibitionism, getting caught(kinda).
꩜ PROMPT: sneaky fooling around with sub spence on the job
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© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.
[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!
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A/N: i have mixed feelings about this but i'm posting it anyway bcs i feel like it. also this is proofread but i'm a moron and blind so don't get your hopes up:3
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Spencer was, gently put, dumb. Now, obviously, he was intelligent, very, very intelligent, but you can be both in rare instances, and Spencer was a rare instance.
He was completely unaware and blind to his looks, which was obviously due to his childhood of being relentlessly bullied and tormented, causing him to overlook his appearance and how truly attractive he was, no matter how many people told him, flirted with him, or hit on him. I mean his nickname was literally "pretty boy" for a reason, but he just thought it was a sarcastic joke.
"All alone, handsome?" You smiled, noticing Spencer tucked away in a conference room all on his own, surrounded by files, your voice making him look up from the one he was reading.
"Oh uhm, yeah, it just got a little loud out there; I work better in a quiet place," he explained, a tight-lipped smile on his face before he looked back down at the file, furrowing his brows as he scanned it.
"Everything okay?" You asked at his expression, worried that he was struggling and needed a break, which he was terrible at, always overworking himself for the sake of the case, even though he could barely think straight after working himself to the bone for days.
"Yeah, I just- I can't find any connection." He sighed, dropping the file on the table before leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.
"Need some fresh eyes?" you offered, closing the door behind you to help drown out the loud chattering in the police station you were working in, slowly making your way over to him and hoisting yourself onto the desk beside him, not missing the way he swallowed, his eyes flicking down to your thighs before looking away again.
"Y-Yeah, sure," he murmured, sliding the file over to you before dropping his hands to his lap to fidget with his fingers, picking at the sides of his nails nervously.
"Spence, stop," you warned, looking at him with knowing eyes. It was a bad habit you'd noticed he had, sometimes picking his skin so much that it was red and raw and sometimes bleeding. You'd told him many times to stop before he hurt himself, but it never really worked.
"Sorry…" he mumbled, flattening his hands on his thighs before looking away from you again, scanning the room to distract himself. Your eyes landed on his hands, noticing a familiar red substance at the side of his nail, making you let out a sigh.
"Spencer, you're bleeding; gimme your hand," you sighed, placing the file down beside you and holding your hand out to him, watching his eyes flick between your face and your hand a few times.
"The amount of pathogens passed through holding hands is staggering; it's actually safer to kiss." He stated, it was completely innocent, but the way your stomach churned wasn't. You'd had a thing for Spencer for a long time, but he was just so naive that he couldn't see it; today he'd see it.
"Is that an offer?" You teased, quirking your brow at him as his eyes widened, realising what he had said and who he said it to—a very attractive woman who was sitting right in front of him in a small, hidden room with the door closed and the blinds drawn, his cheeks flushing at the implication.
"N-No, I was just- I- " He stuttered, averting your gaze and swallowing thickly as you smiled at his flustered state, watching as he lifted his hand, placing it in yours in an attempt to make the whole conversation stop.
"Oh Spencer, does that not hurt?" You tutted, furrowing your brows at him at the raw, bleeding skin on his finger, your thumb stroking the back of his hand, absentmindedly.
"A little..." he spoke softly, lowering his head slightly as you sighed.
"Hold on, just a second," you said as you got up from the table, making your way to the door where you'd left your bag, unzipping it and digging through it for a moment, perhaps bending over to show a little bit of your butt from under your skirt on purpose before you finally pulled a bandaid from one of the pockets and made your way back to him.
"Good thing I'm prepared, huh?" You smiled, sitting back on the desk, but closer this time, with Spencer immediately holding his hand out to you for you to take gently, opening the bandaid and carefully wrapping it around his finger, forcing yourself to hold back a smile as you raised his hand to your face, placing a gentle kiss on top of the bandaid, leaving a faint lipstick stain on the tan material.
"Better?" you asked sweetly, holding back a smirk at his pink cheeks, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears, and you just couldn't help yourself. "Oh Spencer, are you feeling okay? Your cheeks are really red," you feigned concern as you reached out to press the back of your hand to his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his face.
"Y-Yeah, fine," he said, his voice cracking as he tried to sound sure of himself and failing as his cheeks became redder at your touch.
"Are you sure, honey?" You asked sweetly, slipping in the petname just to see him gulp and avoid your eyes, wetting his lips nervously as he shifted in his seat.
Spencer couldn't even answer you, completely avoiding looking even close to you as you shifted closer to him, your eyes boring into him as you saw a very faint sheen of sweat lining his temple.
"Am I making you nervous?" You asked in a low tone, quirking your brow at him as you saw his eyes widen a little at your question, his lips parting as he let out a shaky breath, gulping down his nerves as he looked up at you shyly.
"M-Maybe a little," he admitted bashfully, looking away from you again, staring down at his shoes as you felt lust stirring in your stomach at the sight of him so nervous, admitting that you had an effect on him.
"Y'know, when I tell you that you're pretty, I mean it, don't you?" You asked him, looking at him with doe eyes as he looked back at you with a similar expression.
"Y-You do?" He sounded genuinely surprised, as if he didn't believe you.
"Of course I do. I mean not to sound like I'm in love with you or anything, but you're beautiful, Spencer, and I mean that." You spoke softly, standing up to shift closer to him, standing between his legs and leaning on the desk in front of him, forcing him to look up at you as you towered over him.
"T-Thank you," he breathed shyly, moving his hands to rest between his thighs and covering his crotch with his forearms as he looked anywhere but your face.
"Move your hands," you ordered suddenly, Spencer finally looking at you, brows pulled together slightly at your sudden change in behaviour.
"W-What?" He stuttered, gulping as he shifted in his seat, his hands still planted between his parted thighs, licking his lips as you heard the faint sound of his breathing picking up.
"I said, move your hands," you repeated, this time more sternly, pulling your lip between your teeth as you watched his hands twitch, taking a shaky breath before he hesitantly moved his hands to rest on his thighs, dropping his head in slight humiliation that he'd been caught.
"Oh my, I make you more than nervous," you stated in a sultry tone, Spencer letting out a breathy whine just loud enough for you to hear. The sound was all you needed to have you standing up abruptly, moving to place your knee between his thighs, your hands lifting to rest on either side of his neck.
"Can I kiss you, pretty boy?" You asked breathily, your thumb stroking over his pulse, feeling his breath hitch in his throat at your question before he gulped, nodding quickly.
"Use your words," you teased, watching as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, visibly nervous under your gaze.
"P-Please," he spoke under his breath, looking up at you with wide doe eyes as you smiled down at him, wordlessly leaning towards him, stopping just shy of his lips for a moment just to feel him lean towards you slightly to chase your lips before you finally closed the gap, feeling a whine vibrate against your lips.
Spencer's kissing was slightly clumsy and clearly inexperienced, desperately trying to keep up with you as you kissed him with fervour, letting your teeth graze his bottom lip, your hands trailing up from his neck into his hair at the nape of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp as he keened into you, his hips rolling upward, the motion piquing your curiosity, shifting your knee forward to press to his crotch, a moan slipping into your mouth as he bucked his hips again.
"That feel good, handsome?" You pulled away just enough to ask him, your lips brushing his and his hot breath fanning your lips as he panted, his eyes still closed.
"Y-Yeah," he breathed, making you smirk as you pressed your knee harder into his clothed cock, a whimper falling from his swollen lips as he rutted his cock into you, moving his hands to hold your thigh, squeezing your flesh in an attempt to compose himself, pushing himself down to the chair to still his movements.
"Keep going," you husked as you moved to press your lips to his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses over his pulse, the feeling making him moan as he couldn't help but rut against you, his cheeks flushed at what he was doing.
"W-what if someone-" he stuttered, cutting himself off with a whine as you grazed your teeth on his skin, licking over smooth skin.
"What if?" you said teasingly, your voice low and sultry as you lowered one hand to hold his that was still on your thigh, slowly moving it up and under your skirt. "Touch me," you breathed into his ear, a moan falling from his lips before he gulped, inching his hand higher and higher until he could cup your clothed core, gasping at the heat that radiated from you.
"W-What do I do?" He asked meekly, embarrassed that he didn't know how to touch you properly and that his inexperience only made you want him more.
"Well, first, my underwear need to be out of the picture." You laughed breathily, Spencer blushing and letting out a shaky breath as he used his fingers to move your damp underwear to the side, the fact that he didn't even remove them making you clench around nothing.
"Now touch me." You breathed, biting down on your bottom lip, watching as he gulped before ever so gently pressing his fingertips to your cunt, his middle finger slipping between your folds, resting at your slick entrance, his eyes widening at the feeling, his mouth dropping open slightly.
"Y-You're so...wet," he practically whimpered, not even realising how attractive what he said was, his words making you moan quietly, "inside baby," you breathed, taking his wrist into your hand to guide him, holding his hand where he needed to be before he slowly pushed his middle finger upward, his fingertip slipping into you and making his jaw fall slack as your walls surround his finger.
"God, you've got the perfect fingers for this, baby," you practically moaned, letting your head tip back as you still held his wrist.
"I do?" he asked, his voice slightly whiny as he gazed up at you.
"Mhm, fit so nicely inside me," you murmured absentmindedly, completely forgetting that this wasn't some raunchy dream you were having, your words making him moan low in his throat.
"Curl your finger towards you for me, love," you instructed softly. Spencer immediately followed your exact instructions, curling his middle finger gradually until you let out a quiet gasp, stopping his movements completely.
"D-Did I hurt you?" He asked worriedly, his behaviour and concern making your heart swell.
"N-No baby, no, felt good, k-keep going," you breathed, stroking your thumb over his wrist as you moved the other to rest on his shoulder, balancing yourself so you could move your leg to the outer side of his thigh, spreading your legs for him so he had more access.
"You can add another, baby," you encouraged softly, knowing that he wouldn't do it on his own out of fear of hurting you in any way.
"O-Okay," he breathed, swallowing nervously as he pulled his finger out almost fully, leaving just his fingertip in before he pressed his index finger in beside it, slowly pushing them both in at once, watching your face intently as your jaw fell slack, eyes closed as a breathy moan slipped past your parted lips.
"F-fuck, baby," you mewled as Spencer curled his slender fingers into you on his own accord, his hips rolling into your thigh at the sound of your voice and the feeling of you clenching around his fingers.
"G-Gimme your hand," you asked, holding yours out to him as he placed his free hand in yours with a slightly confused expression that quickly became a completely infatuated, lust-filled expression as you let go of his wrist to hike your skirt up around your waist, exposing the sight of his fingers buried in your cunt.
"O-oh my-" Spencer tried to speak, his words turning into a whimper as you bucked your hips slightly, his fingers pushing in deeper, the sight of them disappearing into you making his cock throb against your leg, hips stuttering against his will.
"J-Just stay right there and make this motion," you explained breathlessly, placing Spencer's thumb on your neglected clit and motioning circles with yours to show him what to do, watching him nod shakily before he made one tentative circle, watching how you reacted, the gasp you let out showing him that it was good, so he repeated the motion again and again until he had a pace going.
"Oh, Spence, g-good baby, so good, c-curl your fingers at the same time for me," you breathed, Spencer immediately doing as you asked, curling both his fingers into you until they were pressed to that soft spot inside you. The way you moaned when he reached it made him realise that spot was what made you react, so he experimented a little, uncurling his fingers before repeating the motion, a louder but still hushed sound falling from your lips as he did.
"Such a quick learner," you mewled as he continued his steady motions, his thumb circling your clit in time with his fingers. Your praise made him blush and rut into your thigh harder than he had before, and your curiosity piqued.
"You like when I praise you? tell you how good you are?" you asked, the way Spencer whimpered and fucked into your thigh again giving you your answer, a smirk tugging at your lips.
"Be a good boy and go faster for me," you instructed, your words of praise making him completely pliant, instantly picking up his pace and making you almost double over as the pleasure shot through you, the motion making your leg slot right between his thighs, leaving no distance between your thigh as his painfully hard length straining against his pants, a pathetic whimper ripped from his throat as his hips bucked desperately into you, this time at a constant pace, Spencer unable to hold back from chasing any kind of friction.
"So pretty fucking my thigh, baby, you like humping my leg like a good boy?" You cooed, bringing your hand to his jaw and letting your thumb stroke over his plush bottom lip, watching as he let his mouth open, as if inviting you in, and you just couldn't deny, letting your thumb slip past his lips and into his warm mouth, clenching around his fingers as he wrapped his beautiful lips around it.
"Oh my, such a good boy," you praised, your voice breathy and low as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you, the way Spencer's fingers consistently curled into you, his thumb never faltering on your clitoral area, his pace matching that of his hips constantly fucking your thigh, his brain going into autopilot as he sucked on your thumb.
"I-I feel- weird," Spencer whimpered around your thumb, just barely audible, but you heard him, his words making you want to coo at him, knowing exactly what the feeling was.
"You're gonna cum, baby boy; it's okay; gonna feel good; just let it happen." You spoke soothingly, pulling your thumb from his mouth and watching as he opened his eyes to look up at you with a doe-like expression, his lips parted and wet as he let out a constant stream of whimpers and moans, his hips stuttering as he desperately fucked your thigh, chasing his orgasm as he brought you to yours.
"F-fuck baby, you're gonna make me cum; keep going; just a little more for mommy." The word slipped out without a thought. You were so caught up in the moment that you didn't even think about it until Spencer let out a choked moan, delivering a particularly hard thrust onto your thigh, your jaw falling slack at what slipped past his lips.
"M-mommy, 'm gonna c-cum," he choked out, letting out little gasps and whimpers as tears spilled from his eyes. He looked utterly gorgeous, completely fucked out, and cumdrunk, so much so that he was calling you mommy and humping your thigh, the whole thing pushing you so close to the edge.
"Oh, baby, so fucking pretty. Gonna cum, you want that? You want mommy to cum on your pretty fingers?" You husked, watching as Spencer nodded mindlessly, clearly not even knowing what he was agreeing to.
"Oh, o-oh, m-mommy! mommy, I can't, I'm-" Spencer stammered, cutting himself off with a choked sob as his hips stilled, cum spurting into his underwear as his whole body tensed, including his hands, his fingers curling into you as far as they'd go, harshly pressing to your sweet spot as his thumb pressed into your clit, the sudden pressure sending you over the edge with a muffled moan, gushing around his fingers as your walls spasmed and thighs trembled.
Spencer continued to shallowly fuck your thigh through his orgasm, little whimpers and whines falling from his lips as he completely soiled his pants, cum seeping through to your thigh and the warm, sticky liquid smearing on your skin.
"Oh, baby, you made such a mess of yourself," you cooed, pouting down at him as you cupped his cheeks, his eyes looking up at you completely dazed as he whimpered.
"You did so well for mommy," you said softly, stroking his soft skin with your thumbs as he pouted, completely fucked out and submissive.
"Okay, baby, slow for me; you can take your fingers out now and we'll get you cleaned up, okay?" You encouraged him sweetly, Spencer nodding as he slowly, like you'd instructed, pulled his fingers out of you, the feeling of his skin dragging against your sensitive walls making you wince slightly.
Once Spencer slipped his fingers fully out of you, he couldn't help but fixate on the slick, shiny liquid that coated them, watching as it created strings between them when he spread them apart, and he just couldn't resist. Your jaw dropped as you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, burying them in his mouth and moaning around them as he tasted you.
"You like how mommy tastes, baby?" You asked, smiling to yourself as you watched him clean every last drop, nodding with his fingers still in his mouth.
"Sticky," he whined once he pulled his fingers from his mouth, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "...and cold," he whined harder, looking up at you with big eyes as if begging you to do something.
"Okay, baby, let's clean you up," you smiled, fixing your soiled underwear and shimmying your skirt back down before planting your foot back on the ground and scanning the room.
"There's no tissues in here," you sighed, furrowing your brows as Spencer whined harder, pressing his thighs together desperately.
"D-Don't like it, mommy," he sniffled, making you turn quickly to see him with teary eyes and pouty lips. He was completely submissive, which was a problem you'd deal with later; right now he needed you.
"It's okay, baby, it's okay; don't cry," you soothed as you cupped his cheeks, watching as his bottom lip quivered slightly. "Mommy's going to think of something," you reassured him, taking another look around the room. An idea springs to mind, and he's not going to like it.
"Okay, you're not going to like it, but it's the only way, okay?" You told him, making sure to talk softly to him so as not to make him think you were being mean. Spencer was sensitive as is, but in this state? He needed the most care.
"O-Okay," he replied hesitantly, curious about what he wouldn't like but also slightly worried.
You let go of his face to turn around and reach over the desk, picking up Spencer's, now stone cold, coffee cup and turning back to him, seeing the dots connect in his mind at what you were planning, the whole idea making him whine but nodding nonetheless, knowing it was the only cover-up that wasn't going to be too suspicious.
"I'm going to spill this on you, and then we're going to go out there; I'll tell them I knocked it over and I feel terrible, and then we're going to go back to the hotel and get you changed, okay?" You explained your plan fully, making sure he was comfortable with the whole thing.
"Okay…" he mumbled, knowing that this was about to be unpleasant and impossibly stickier, but on the upside, the hotel wasn't far, and he got to spend some time alone with you away from work, so it was worth it in the end.
"Sorry, sweetie," you winced as you poured the liquid over his lap, watching as he jumped at the cold feeling seeping into his clothes, feeling terrible about making him uncomfortable.
"Alright, let's go. I don't want you sitting in wet clothes for too long," you said as you quickly placed the cup back on the desk, taking a Spencer hand in yours to help him to his feet and leading him to the door where your bag was, hoisting it onto your shoulder and swinging the door open. Your eyes immediately meeting hotch looking at you from a desk not far from you.
"I spilled Spencer's coffee on him; thank God it was cold, but I feel terrible. I'm gonna give him a ride to the hotel to change; we won't be long," you explained quickly, all but dragging Spencer through the station to the exit, not giving the team time to tease or make jokes.
"How dumb do they think we are?" Derek snorted to the team once you were out of earshot, the others shaking their head and agreeing with him as they continued their work.
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@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @reidsdaisies @iluvreid @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @unimportantweirdo @criminalmindswife @deluluforu @busybeingstrange
(if you wanna be tagged when i post fics just lmk!)
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sweetfushi · 3 months
Text
fluff, some angst | satoru gojo x reader.
vampire!satoru whose ears perk at the sound of the large doors of his castle creaking open. he hasn’t had visitors in years - centuries. who has now breached his sanctuary, is the question he asks you. you, who stand in the middle of his entrance hall with an anxious yet gullibly curious expression on your face.
vampire!satoru whose brow furrows at the sight of such a meek mortal staring him in the face. you ask him to feed you the knowledge he holds of countless decades that have passed, whether it be about medicine, society, or pure legend. satoru quirks his brow at this; your tone sounds as if you are demanding this of him, not asking.
vampire!satoru who appears in front of you in an instant, wrapped in a dark cloak that reaches his shoes. his hands remain behind his back, under his cloak, as he circles you and questions why he should do such a thing. “i know who you are, what you are. what is the purpose of your immortality if not to share your experiences?” you tell him.
vampire!satoru who, rather reluctantly, allows you to scour his endless libraries. he’s slightly bothered that he now must provide food for someone, as he himself does not eat. though he himself does not cook, his servants do. no, he doesn’t refer to them as servants. his companions.
vampire!satoru who, hears you knock on the door of his study only to enter without being permitted to. you take the chair diagonal to him and place the thick book you’ve been reading on your lap, before hurriedly turning to a specific page. you ask him about the book and listen intently to his comprehensive responses.
vampire!satoru who, at some point, finds himself looking forward to you interrupting him in his study, even when he's sleeping at his desk or reading his favourite book. he becomes hungry for your curiosity and indulgence in information only he can provide you.
vampire!satoru who falls so deeply in love with you that he makes you his wife but spares you the curse of immortality by not turning you into a vampire. though he wishes to keep you by his side forever, he cannot bare to have you fall into the darkness that is vampirism.
vampire!satoru who kisses you so deeply, a hand always steadying you against his larger frame as he feels you shiver when his fangs graze your soft lips. you can barely keep up with his desire and the way his fingers press so firmly into you, as if he's terrified of losing you (because he is, he just doesn't want you to know that and worry yourself).
vampire!satoru who assigns you a personal companion who tends to your every need - food, drink, comfort, guidance around the castle that you have still yet to memorise the rooms of. despite this companion, you still seek satoru's presence the most, even for the smallest of things.
vampire!satoru who doesn't know how he would have happily continued living in solitude if you hadn't stormed into his castle and demanded that he indulged you. satoru would change a lot of his past choices, but in every life would he admit you into his castle and allow you to replace it as his sanctuary.
sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).
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codenamesazanka · 5 months
Text
more Deku bashing, if you'll forgive me
Seeing lots of shocked tweets and posts that Deku seems so cold and distant about Shigaraki dying in front of him; that Deku doesn't seem to care much at all; that Deku isn't devastated he wasn't able to save that little boy.
I have to point out that Deku never cared in the first place. He really didn't! It's why he needed to see The Crying Child to feel any bit of empathy for Shigaraki, and why ever since then, he only yammers on about saving the Crying Child and only the little boy. He never gave a shit about the Shigaraki in front of him. Never treated Shigaraki like someone real to engage with. That Shigaraki is unforgivable; and it was impossible to have ever bring the Crying Child into reality because the Crying Child was a memory, it happened 15 years in the past that cannot be changed, so all Deku can do is comfort the Crying Child then beat the shit out of Shigaraki.
I mean, just look at the imagery and the word choices:
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Are those the words and expressions of someone who's trying to be careful about not hurting Shigaraki? Actually trying to help someone in pain? I remember when people were excited that Danger Sense would tell Shigaraki that Deku doesn't want to hurt him - turns out nah. He was so ready to make Shigaraki throw up blood.
Deku never tried to talk to Shigaraki. He never asked any questions during the whole time they were fighting. Mirio asked a question and got a response; but Deku? Nothing. Even in the memory-realm, when Shigaraki via memory-villains ask Deku what his plan was, Deku just shouted 'No!' and that was that.
When Deku said 'Somewhere inside of you is a person' he literally meant that. Inside of Shigaraki is the Crying Child, who is the actual person. Did he catch Shigaraki saying 'Spinner will be looking forward to this' and think, 'huh, Shigaraki has someone he cares about, I think? Then he wouldn't want to destroy Spinner, would he?' No. The fan-translation got everyone's hopes up that Deku wants to 'shred the rug' of societal failures, but the official translation was correct - Deku wanted to pry the lid off Shigaraki's trauma, accusing Shigaraki of repressing himself.
If he cared about Shigaraki at all, he would've protested when Gran told him he might have to kill Shigaraki. Instead:
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He would've opposed the construction of something called a SKY COFFIN DEATH ARENA. He would've spoken up when Heroes talked strategy about how AFO is the better opponent to fight, implying that it's better if AFO had taken over Shigaraki, despite Shigaraki being the victim of AFO here.
Even when he ends up saving Tenko from Decaying the Shimuras, he's utterly lackluster there. Tenko's in tears, saying that he must have wanted to kill his family, he was born with a quirk like Decay, who could ever validate his existence the way he is??? And Deku's response? "Well. Holding my hand might make you feel better. So here." Saying something like, 'No, you're a child! It's not your fault!' or 'Your quirk isn't meant for harm, it can be useful too' or 'It's okay. You're not an evil existence' seems obvious, but Deku doesn't.
and really, all this has been obvious since the Mall Encounter in Chapter 69. Remember when Shigaraki point blank told him that All Might's smile is stupid because he acts like there's no one he can't save? And it's clearly full of resentment? And Deku picked up on this, which is why next chapter he asks All Might if it's true there are times where All Might couldn't save someone.
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But once Tsukauchi said, don't worry about it, Deku did just that. When he does think about it one time, it's this absolutely nothing of a reflection
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"I guess we just have to agree to disagree!" Come on. And this kid has a 'drive to save that eclipses all common understanding'??? for real?????
Deku has never given a crap about Shigaraki or Villains. Honestly, him wanting to save that sad little boy might as well be just Horikoshi putting lines in his mouth to move the story along.
If Deku really did care, I think he would've wanted to save the entire person that is Shigaraki. The Crying Child is a phantom - Shigaraki is real and solid and there. The Crying Child is innocent and easy to care about because it's a cute baby and it's openly weepy; saving hand-monster junji ito twink Shigaraki who laughs and talks about destroying everything Deku loves would've been an actual challenge. But clearly we couldn't have that because even the Crying Child was too far gone for Deku to save.
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cosmicmunsonwrites · 1 year
Note
Drunk reader meets rafe while he’s talking to his friends. Your drunken status leaves you falling asleep on his lap with him taking you back to his house so your safe
but you came right on time
pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: alcohol consumption
summary: after having one too many drinks, you find yourself talking to outerbanks’ golden boy.
authors note: guys i’m so sorry for not updating but with school starting last week, i’m literally dying rn. i changed it up just a tad :) thank you for the request though and i really hope you enjoy!
not edited
do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.
not my gif
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you were currently sat on the couch with a cup of cheap beer in your hand, waiting on your friend to return from wherever she’d gone. she was your ride after all.
“dude, shes smokin’ hot,” you heard a boy say from your right. you then saw him point to a girl across the room. he was standing with a green beer bottle in hand while talking to another guy sat right next to you.
the boy next to you was very pretty. he also looked very troubled.
“are you okay?” you drunkenly asked, trying to provide him some sort of comfort.
his blank expression immediately morphed into one your couldn’t quite make out when he looked towards you. “what?”
you had thought it was a pretty straightforward question. “are you okay?” you repeated a little louder this time incase he couldn’t hear over the music.
he looked almost confused. “yes? why do you ask?”
you opted for a simple shrug before you took another sip of your drink. “you look upset,” you replied. “jus’ wanted to see if you were alright.” then you held out a hand in front of you. “y/n.”
he hesitantly took it. “rafe.”
“cool name,” you slurred out. once your hands were freed from one another, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled into his side in desperate need of a nap.
you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to slowly find sleep.
rafe hadn’t even noticed, still engaged in a conversation with topper and kelce. but when he did, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect you in your vulnerable state. he gently grabbed the cup from your hand and placed it on the table along with his own. “i think ‘m gonna get going,” he alerted the other two.
“so soon?” kelce asked. “it’s just getting started.”
topper chuckled and hit the boys chest. “you gonna take her to your place or somethin’?”
“what else am i supposed to do? leave her here?” he asked with a quirked brow.
the blonde smirked. “i’m sure any other guy here would gladly take her home.”
“you’re disgusting, top,” kelce grimaced.
rafe simply rolled his eyes, not wanting to engage in a conversation with the idiot he called his best friend. he slowly stood up while making sure you wouldn’t fall over. once he was up on his feet, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “hey.”
you grumbled and stirred slightly. “what?”
“c’mon. ‘m gonna take you to my place, okay? i need you to follow me though,” he said softly, grabbing your hands and gently pulling you up on your feet. you drunkenly stumbled into his chest before finally gaining balance. “ready?” he asked as he snaked a hand around your waist for stability.
you nodded and leaned into him a little closer as you walked towards his car. once you arrived without falling over, he opened the passenger door and helped you get in and buckle up before shutting it and doing the same for himself.
fortunately, the ride to the cameron residence was short.
and to make things even better, his parents weren’t home. nor were his sisters.
with his assistance, you two had successfully made it up the stairs and into his bedroom.
“here,” he said, handing her an unopened bottle of water on his bedside table he’d placed there before he left earlier in the day. “take a seat and drink it.”
you groaned, closing your eyes as you sat down. “i don’t like water.”
his brow raised in confusion. “you don’t like water?”
you immediately shook your head slowly to avoid worsening your headache. “no. too bland.”
he couldn’t help but chuckle. “well, i need you to drink a little bit then you can head to bed.” he began to rummage through his drawers before dropping something onto the mattress next to her. “here. change into these. if you need anything, i’m gonna go get some ibuprofen from the kitchen.”
you nodded lazily and waited until he closed the door behind himself to change into the clothes.
when he returned, he knocked softly and asked a soft, “can i come in?” when he got no answer, he slowly opened the door to find you knocked out already. you were dressed in his hoodie and sweats that absolutely swallowed you. he glanced over at the water bottle as he headed to the closet, noticing you’d taken a few sips. he pulled out a soft blanket from inside and draped it over you in hopes of making you as comfortable as possible.
the thought of you not being here with him right now and having someone else take you home to do only god knows what to you was making his blood boil. it didn’t matter though. after all, you were here with him.
he grabbed out another blanket from the college and a pillow, making his bed for the night on the floor. if this were anyone else he was sleeping on the ground for, he’d be pissed. but knowing you were here and protected by him somehow just made him feel a whole lot better.
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feelmyskinonyourskin · 6 months
Text
Worship You
Pairing: Frank Castle x AFAB Reader
Main Masterlist
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GIF Source: Papa-Evershed @papa-evershed
Summary: You’re feeling a little nervous and insecure about your postpartum body, Frank just wants to show you how much he loves you.
Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). Mentions of pregnancy, birth, and postpartum AFAB body. New mom insecurities and fears. Lactation kink, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected P in V, use of lube. Pet names (baby, sweetheart, mama)
WC: 2600
*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*
Four and a half months, that’s how long it had been since you’d given birth to the precious angel that was your daughter. It was the best day of your life and changed so many things so quickly.
Particularly, your body. You were so proud of it; growing and carrying a life for 9 months, enduring 14 hours of labor and delivery, producing daily nutrition to feed this tiny human you loved so dearly. You lamented all the times in your youth when you would pick and pull at your skin, over analyzing the ways your body could “improve” and wishing to abide more by the over photoshopped standards you saw in magazines. How foolish you were.
Now you loved your body. She was a warrior. A Goddess.
But still, even with your new found appreciation for her, it was difficult some days to not feel like a stranger in your own skin. You knew pregnancy and birth would bring about irreversible changes to your body. But nothing could have prepared you for the emotional wave of grief and confusion that came with all the new feelings and quirks that come with life after pregnancy. 
Which was probably why you had been avoiding having sex. 
Sure sex had been uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy, you and Frank inventing the most insane positions just to find a comfortable way to do it. Your body had already changed so much then, but even more so now. Would he still love you like he used to? Would the things you used to enjoy still feel good? Would there be any pain?
You’d been cleared at your 8 week postpartum appointment to move forward with all sexual activity, but still had put it off.
Frank, of course, never pushed the issue. In fact he never brought it up at all, too tired and busy doting on your daughter and making sure your recovery went smoothly. Daily, you got to witness the strength and determination he showed to welcome this second chance despite the demons of his past. He was the epitome of a perfect father and partner, which only turned you on and made you love him even more.
“Ithinkweshouldhavesextonight” you finally blurted out one morning, need for intimate connection and relief outweighing the anxiety.
Frank had just gotten your daughter down for a nap and was at the kitchen sink washing out your pumping equipment. 
He turned around so casually to face you and leaned against the counter, as if you had just asked him what the weather was. God, did he have to look so sexy when he was just existing?
He looked you up and down and with an eyebrow corked replied softly “Yeah? That somethin’ you’re ready for?”
You were still reeling from the shock of actually saying it out loud and stuttered out “I… I think so.”
Frank nodded calmly. 
“Okay.” 
And then he was back to his task without another word.
He didn’t bring it up for the rest of the day, going through the evening routine of dinner, diaper changes, and bathtime with your daughter as he normally would.
Meanwhile, your nerves were on edge, half with anxiety, half with anticipation. 
The last feeding of the night was done and your daughter drifted to sleep in your arms as you rocked her. You gingerly set her down in her bassinet, careful not to wake her and have to start the whole routine again.
It was typical to find Frank leaning in the door frame of the nursery, happily observing the site of his family. So you weren’t surprised when you turned around and found him standing there with a grin plastered across his face.
“Hey beautiful.” 
“Hey big guy.”
“You still feeling up to…” he asked
“Yeah,” You nodded. “C’mon let's go to the bedroom.”
You reached for his hand, but he pulled it away.
“I got somethin’ for you first.” 
The bathtub was to the brim with bubbles. Based on the aroma in the air, you could tell it was the good kind you liked to buy at cute little boutiques in Brooklyn and not the Johnson and Johnson brand you used for your daughter’s baths.
Frank pressed his chest to your back and placed a gentle kiss to your crown.
“Gotta get you relaxed first.”
Docile fingers danced under the hem of the shirt you wore; a dingy, grey henley that once belonged to him, as he slowly began to undress you.
You silently cursed at yourself for not putting on something sexier earlier. Not that any of your old lingerie fit you, but anything more put together than this would have been better.
“Where’s that brain of yours goin’ now?”
Goddamnit how could he read you so well?
“Just wishing I put a little more effort in to seducing you.” 
“Eh, you know you don’t need nothin’ fancy to do that.”
The kisses he peppered to your now exposed shoulder sent a shiver up your spine as he continued.
“My woman’s so goddamn pretty, it’s been torture keeping my hands to myself.” 
Frank’s plan worked wonders as you found yourself emerging from a half-hour in the scented warm water feeling relaxed and floaty.
He was waiting for you in the bedroom, wearing nothing but clean grey sweatpants that rode low to tease and tantalize you. Good to know he still remembered just what you liked.
He eyed you up and down as you walked towards him, closing the gap between you and pulling you flush to him.
A gentle hand ran down your cheek as you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.
“Okay, here’s how this is gonna go,” he said “I’m gonna go nice and slow,”
You let out a huff, which caused Frank’s eyebrows shoot up.
“And you’re not gonna whine about it.”
“Fine.” you conceded
“If at any point, anything hurts or makes you uncomfortable, even a little, you tell me and we stop. You got that?”
You nodded your head gently, leaning into the hand he still had resting where your jaw and neck meet.
“Atta girl.”
His lips were soft when they met yours, gentle but not hesitant. He took care to guide you backwards and sit you down on the bed gingerly.
It always fascinated you how hands that inflicted so much violence and death could show you such tenderness and love, could provide so much pleasure. Even moreso now seeing how docile he was with your newborn.
The tie of your robe undid easily and the soft fabric fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap, exposing you to him.
His eyes were full of reverence as he once again stared at you, admiring with a boyish grin before he dove in and covered your skin in the sweetest of kisses. Each meeting of his lips to your shoulders, your neck, your chest was the rising sun of spring, reigniting your body from hibernation.
His nimble fingers gently grabbed at your breast as he continued tracing his lips across you, giving it a small squeeze before twirling your nipple under his thumb.
It was just enough stimulation to release a few small drips of milk, followed by a tiny stream.
You pushed at his shoulder to get him off and attempted to stop the liquid with a bit of your robe.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought about pumping before we got started, but I was hoping maybe she had enough before bed that it’d be alright.”
“It’s okay baby.” Frank practically whispered, swiping at the opaque fluid with his thumb.
“They sore?” he asked
“A little.”
“Can I help?”
You practically felt a flood rush between your legs at his request and nodded eagerly.
Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees before you. His breath was hot against your skin as he licked all the way up from your ribcage to your nipple, gathering the warm nectar on his tongue. 
He hummed in satisfaction as he took your nipple fully into his mouth. The divine mix of building pleasure and sweet relief filled your body as he began to suckle, soft pouty lips encompassing your breast.
Big hands wrapped around your lower back, pressing indents into your skin with his calloused fingers as he held you close to him, his eyes now squeezed shut as he continued to nurse.
You threw your head back, groaning at the borderline overwhelm of feelings that ripped through your body.
Frank laid you down slowly, upper lips dragging along your skin as he released your breast and began to kiss down, allowing a spurt of milk to fly into the air.
As he moved down, your hands instinctively flew to cover the loose skin of your stomach, still laden with lighter stripes from where your daughter stretched your flesh as she grew in utero.
His thick fingers grabbed at your wrists to stop you.
“No.” he commanded and instinctually you groaned in rebuttal, trying to free your hands from his grip.
“Ain’t no hiding from me baby. C’mon.”
The low roughness of his voice always made you want to obey whatever he requested. You looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Look, I know you’re still gettin used to all of it, but you’re still my woman and I love you. Shit, you’re even more my woman now that you’ve had my kid. You think I ain’t gonna worship every bit of you? This beautiful body that gave me my daughter, that gave me a second chance I don’t deserve. You think I ain’t gonna love every inch of you just as much as before?”
You couldn’t help but grin at his praise and nodded, leaving your hands at your side and permitting him to continue his work.
Done with taking his time, but still a certain gingerness to his movements, he finally kissed his way to between your legs. You were practically squirming with need as he teased his hot breath against your core.
The sweet relief when he finally ran his tongue through your folds had you practically jumping off the mattress with how calico-like your back arched. You were sensitive, having had no stimulation there in months. You hadn’t even dared to touch yourself in any way that wasn’t medically related, afraid to even test the waters.
Once he was satisfied with the amount he slicked up your petals with his tongue, he went back to being slow and careful, experimenting with your limits by tickling your entrance with the tip of his finger.
Another nod from you and he pushed in just to the first knuckle, then the second. All you could do was whimper with the pleasure of finally feeling him again, bucking your hips to encourage him to go further.
He massaged your walls a little before adding a second finger and you were in heaven.
It was so familiar the way he worked you over with his fingers and mouth. More and more of your fears dissipated with every movement, the luminous pleasure building inside took them over. 
Your orgasm crashed into you unexpectedly, taking not much at all to get you there. It made you feel normal and human and real again. 
Tenderly, he kissed at your thighs as you worked to steady your breathing.
“How you feeling, sweetheart?”
Another nod. Usually it was Frank who was mostly silent and you doing all the talking. But not tonight.
“That good, huh?”
A giggle escaped you.
“Talk to me pretty girl, what you need now?”
“You Frank, wanna feel you inside me.”
“Okay. How? Gotta do whatever’s gonna be most comfortable for you.”
“I think I should be on top. Have the most control that way.”
“You got it.”
Frank rummaged around the nightstand and pulled out a condom and the bottle of lube. He shed his sweatpants and made his way back to you. 
Spreading your legs, he applied a generous amount of lube, using his fingers to push it inside you a little. Satisfied with that preparation, he layed down beside you and put the condom on. You tossed your robe to the floor and crawled to him, maneuvering to hover over his length.
He held you in place with one strong hand and ran the back of his finger down your cheek with the other.
“Remember baby, anything hurts, we stop.”
You nodded, then reached down to guide him to your entrance.
It was a delicious stretch as you slowly sank down, relaxing away the last of your fears about pain. It felt good. It felt different. But it felt good.
The sigh of relief once he was fully seated inside you echoed around the room. You sat there for a moment, enjoying the pleasure. It felt like coming home after being away for too long.
You gave a rock of your hips, steady and easy, feeling the drag of his cock against your velvet walls. 
Again. And again. 
Until you found a comfortable rhythm and lost yourself to the pleasure.
Meanwhile, Frank’s hands continued to explore, reveling in the feel of your skin under his touch after missing it for so long. Observing the way pleasure twisted and contorted on your face as you rode him, he couldn’t take his gaze off of you.
Temptation won him over, he raised his hand to paw at your other breast. Just a few pinches to your tender nipple and the leak began.
Rising to his elbows, he once again took your breast in his mouth. The warmth of his soft lips latching and sucking sent a wave of goosebumps across your skin as you continued to thrust against him.
Carding your fingers through his cropped hair, you held his head to you, encouraging him to continue.
His fingers found the other breast, squeezing so the stream of milk began once more, flowing down the curve of your tit.
“Frank, I’m so close.” you said, punctuated by the slap of skin.
He moved to bury his face between your boobs and kissed your breast bone, husking out “That’s it baby, let me feel you. Atta girl” 
Every dial in your body was cranked up to maximum capacity and it wasn’t long before you erupted, white hot pleasure coursing from head to toe as you rhythmically clenched around him.
You grabbed at his shoulders in an attempt to not fall over and he shushed at the whimpers you released with every spasm of your walls.
Frank wasn’t far behind, cradling your face as he pulled you to press your forehead to his.
A grunt escaped him as he thrusted up into you a final time. His gaze bore into yours as he released, attempting to say a million words he couldn’t form right now.
Cautiously, he tipped sideways and laid you down beside him on the bed, pulling you to lay on his glistening chest. 
“You feeling good?”
“Yeah, Frank that was perfect.”
“Good baby, I’m glad we…”
But his words were cut off, the siren cry coming from down the hall stopped both of you in your tracks.
You moved to get up but Frank pushed at your shoulder.
“Shh shh shh I got her mama. You stay put.”
You closed your eyes as you listened to him coo her back to sleep from down the hall, content to live in this little bubble of joy forever.
For you @itwasthereaminuteago
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lksvi · 1 year
Text
solar flares & soft lips
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𝆹⭒ re4r!leon kennedy x gn!reader
⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ synopsis — teaching leon how to apply skincare before he leaves for a mission is a domestic setting you both need. when he comes home, he finds he missed it more than he thought.
𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ content — fluff, i wrote this very very sleep deprived, post and pre re4r, no uses of [name], tried a different writing style i think, this is just really soft, leon is a rich man
⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ word count — 1.4k
𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ note — i love leon kennedy so much :( literally so so in love with him. this was so soft i love it
𝆹⭒ masterlist
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When Leon first saw you doing your skincare routine, he found it unneccessary. Luxuries, even ones as simple as skincare items, were scarce in his house. Despite him owning a mansion, the inside was bare. It only looked decorated from the outside— A husk.
Leon was on the move most of the time. Settling down was an odd feeling. Adrenaline pricking his skin, waiting for the next time he'd have to move. Especially on missions. He's accustomed to carrying around only what was necessary. He discarded what wasn't, leaving him with few items. 
This translated over into his personal life, too. He keeps only what he deems necessary, having very few items that are for his own enjoyment. Sometimes, he'll splurge on a new cologne or a jacket for himself, but it isn't often.
But he doesn't mind spoling you.
Leon has more than he knows what to do with. Anything he sees you looking at, he's not hesitating to buy it. A new skincare set had been a recent buy. He had bought you all new products after you told him yours were running low. You protested at first, but Leon is tenacious.
He sees how excited you are to use it, anyway. He thinks he's more excited to see you excited. Leon's always thought you were cute whenever you show off the new items he bought you. A ghost of a smile curls on his lips as he nods, soaking in every word. Listening to you talk is something he could do all day, every day.
What he doesn't expect is for you to ask to try the new skincare products out on him. He's taken aback, a furrow in his eyebrows. Nude-colored lips part, eyes narrow. "Me?" He asks, as if he didn't hear you right. A roll of your eyes accompanies a brush of blond hair out of his eyes. "Yes, you, silly." You grin up at him.
Leon shakes his head, a huff of a laugh escaping him. "Why not on yourself?" He asks. Your bottom lip juts out in a pout, one that he isn't immune to. "I want to see how well they'd work on your skin," You answer. A narrow of your eyes at his smooth flesh has the corner of his lip twitching up in a smile. "Even if it is perfect."
He huffs out another laugh. Perfect skin had always come natural Leon, much to your chagrin. "Alright," He agrees. As if he was ever going to disagree. Your exclamation of a cheer has him rolling his eyes in affection.
You guide him to sit on the edge of the bathtub, pulling out a headband. He quirks a brow, looks between it and you, and sighs. Rejection doesn't come as you thought it would. Slipping the headband over his neck, you tug it to pull his hair back. The sight causes a giggle to spill from your lips. Colbat eyes shoot you a playful glare.
"Is this necessary?" Leon asks, glancing up at the headband and then back towards you. You roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips, and nod your head. "Of course it is, Leon," You answer, attempting to keep a serious tone. Your poor attempt at stifling a giggle doesn't go unnoticed by Leon. "Don't wanna get any product in your hair, right?"
He grunts, the only answer you get, before you're opening the moisturizer. You dollop small dots onto his cheeks, his chin, the edge of his nose, and then his forehead. You rub it into his skin, making sure to be gentle. You know Leon could handle rough touches, but you don't want to hurt him. Even if he can take it.
Leon can't deny how calm this feels. The gentle domesticity of it all, of you putting moisturizer on him; the moisturizer he bought you. He leans into your touch, chasing it when you pull away. He stays still, doesn't speak. Instead, he observes.
You've always been gentle. He thinks it's a trait you were born with. Leon can't imagine you as anything but gentle. Even when you're teasing him, playful banter you two shoot back and forth, you're gentle. You never say anything that would set him off. You're careful with what you say, avoiding words you know will upset him.
Born and raised as careful, delicate.
You're the polar opposite of Leon.
He was not brought up delicate. Rough enviorments have been normal to him since childhood. In fact, if his enviorment isn't rocky in some way, he's skeptical. It's one of the reasons he was hesitant to go further with you in your relationship. Scared that it'd be rocky like everything else in his life.
Like you'd leave him as everyone else has.
He's taken out of his thoughts at a cold serum on his face. It drips down his cheek, pursuit cut short as you wipe it with your thumb. You massage the serum into his face, smooth skin easy to maneuver under your hands. A gentle sigh leaves Leon's lips. When you pull away, he's in an almost daze.
"I could get used to this," He muttered. The confession has a grin curling on your lips, a mischevious twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, yeah?" You ask. His slight nod is all the confirmation you need, pressing a thumb against his jaw, gentle. "If you were home more often, we could be doing this every day."
You knew he was busy, though. You didn't know the true nature of his job, much less what he did while he was away. Leon was only allowed to tell you so much. But you took it in stride. Missing Leon had become a feeling you'd grown accustomed to. An ache in your heart soothed by the sight of Leon at your front porch.
Before he left, you were always trying to spend as much time with him as you could. Cleaning with him, cooking, washing the dishes. Any task to get you a little extra time. Each morning before his departure, you cuddle in his arms, get yourself as close as you can. You try to remember his heart beat, the pattern of his breathing, the river of veins flowing along his skin.
The last time he left, you had bought him a gift of your own. Mini travel-sized bottles of your skin-care, all fitting in a small bag. "Something to remember me by," You said, smile on your lips. Leon, ever so grateful, smiled. His thumb brushed across your knuckles.
"How could I forget you?"
You didn't expect Leon to continue the small routine without you. Being away for missions, ones he couldn't tell you about, gave you an idea that he had little to no free time. Still, he does try. He uses it late at night when he can't sleep. He knows it won't fall asleep, but he misses you, and this is the closest he can get for now.
He tries to mimic your fingers, calloused pads massaging his skin the way he remembers you doing it. His don't feel as good, though. Your hands are more gentle than his are, not rough from years of work experience. His hands have rough callouses, despite his use of gloves.
Still, you're happy to smell your products on his face when he gets home. Your small laugh is a welcomed reprieve from his thoughts of the mission. "You're wearing my skincare," You muse, eyes trailing over his skin. There was no difference, but the light smell was there, and the knowledge that he had used it.
"Of course I am," Leon replied, as if it was obvious. Intertwining a hand with yours, he brings it to his mouth. Faint stubble scratches against the back of your hand. The smile on his face is clear, and despite having seen it many times, you'll never get over it. He kisses each knuckles of yours, chapped lips pressed against the flesh. He's missed this. Missed you and your touch.
Spain was difficult. It had been long and treacherous, testing his commitment (as if there was anything to test) to his country. He can't tell you what happened, but none of it matters now. Not when he's holding you in his arms, faint smell of moisturizer linging on your cheek.
He'll never get tired of this. Coming home to you, holding you. Loving you.
If there's one thing Leon is more sure about than anything in his life, it's his heart that beats for you. His soul that has pieces of yours in the sound of your laugher and the feeling of your hands.
His heart beats to the rhythm of your laugher. Loving you is muscle memory. He doesn't think about it. He doesn't question it.
Leon Kennedy loves you, and he will love you for the rest of his life.
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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months
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Okay, any of ur yautja OC reacting to low spice tolerance GN reader eating spicy food, and they’re just a mess after the first bite, tongue on fire, lips numb and their chugging anything that’s liquid, but still continuing eating the spicy food, it just sounds funny asf. 😹
Low Tolerance
Pairing: Uihoy (male Yautja) x Vic'tao (male Yautja) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 1823
Summary: Between the three of you, only Vic'tao loves and even craves hot foods. When he has to chance to take the two of you to an upscale restaurant, he snatches it up. He's only able to get take out but he doesn't complain. You didn't realize how much heat Vic'tao could handle.
Author Note: I don't know if you know me in real life because this is me. Mild is too hot for me. I cannot handle spicy food once-oh-ever. I'll start to flop over and die.
Masterlist
Ao3
Both of your feet were thrown over the armrest of the copilot chair. A tablet sat in your hands, occupying your mind until Vic’tao returned to the ship. Uihoy was in the captain’s chair and going through all of the checks of the ship. You peeked over your device to stare at the handsome, bulky form of Uihoy. He was leaned forward, typing away at the console in front of him.
In the light of the ship, his purple scales reflected the light. You couldn’t help the soft smile to spread across your features, head tilting slightly to the side. How did you get so lucky with not one but two amazing mates? They had stumbled into your life unexpectedly. Here you were now, the third addition to their small group. The best mates you could ever ask for.
“Why is little ooman giving Uihoy that look?” the purple Yautja spoke up without taking his bright eyes off of the console. Whoops, caught red handed.
Heat bloomed to life under your cheeks but you didn’t look away from him. “Can’t your mate not admire the catch I’ve caught?” you drawled with a cheeky smirk. Uihoy huffed with his upper two mandibles quirking up. Ah, you got him.
A hum tumbled out of his throat. “Yes, little mate can. But if looking continues, might as well come over here. Uihoy feels a bit… lonely.” You rolled your eyes and closed the case on your tablet.
“Vic’s been gone for less than five minutes. You’re already lonely?” you teased him, a sparkle in your eye. It was a hard draw between the two of them on who’s the most needy. Each have their differences. Both need their own requirements met every day. That’s not a complaint. You loved them. You would do a lot for them.
Uihoy took his eyes off of the screen in front of him to turn his direction at you. A small pout molding his features. You sighed dramatically before slipping off the chair. The tablet was left on the seat. You meandered over to the hunk and stopped in front of him. A short purr left his throat. He leaned back and invited you to his lap.
Just like before, you sat in the same position. The best position to relax in. Uihoy carded his thick fingers through your hair and let his hand sit against your scalp. You leaned against it and let your eyes drift shut. Comfortable.
“Vicky better hurry his yellow ass up because I’m starting to starve!” you groaned and reopened your eyes in a dramatic flip of your head. “What’s even this place called again?” All you remember as Vic raved on about the restaurant was the fact it was best place for food. He said he was lucky to be able to get take out from them. Though, it would’ve been better to sit down. Not that he knew but it was an educated guess.
His claws carefully ran down your scalp. You instantly were mesh in his hold. “The best translation to English is ‘Mama’s Fish Bowl’,” Uihoy answered your question. You couldn’t help the snort and peered up at him with a raised brow. “Don’t judge the name before trying the food. Little ooman may regret it.”
Not that you were making fun of the name, but it’s such a… cliché. You believed the translation was off. Some languages just didn’t work with English over even any other language on earth.
Both Vic and Uihoy were well adverse in a lot of languages. But, even they will fall back onto their translator for a smooth transition. Maybe, this was one of those times the language just doesn’t work.
“What kind of food do they serve?” At first, you didn’t think anything wrong with that but realized different pallets and culture. Of course, the food was safe for you. This isn’t going to be like asking if it was like Italian or Mexican. This was an alien cuisine. That didn’t stop you from being curious. What type of food was it like?
He continued to softly scratch at your scalp, making you putty in his hands. “That’s for little hunter to find out when Vic’tao comes back.” You sighed and rolled your eyes again. Damn him. Your eyes drifted shut as you turn your head towards Uihoy and looked up at him. “But trust when said this is damn good food.” Another smile broke across your features.
You lifted a hand to cup his jaw. “I do. A lot. I trust both of you with my life.” He tilted his head to nuzzle against your palm. A short chuff came from the giant.
“What are the two love doves doing without me?” A familiar voice filtered into the space. You twisted around in Uihoy’s lap to see Vic’tao strolling into the cockpit. Both of hands full with bags. Your eyes widened at the sight. The two of them ate a lot but that much food should feed the two of you for a few days. Perfect, leftovers!
A groan escaped you. “Finally, you’re back! We’ve been waiting years,” you taunted him with a grin showing off your teeth. The yellow Yautja scowled at you and strolled further into the room.
Both of the bags were set down on the chair you once sat in. Then, the male spun on his heel and was strutting away. “Uie, you want Cn’tlip?” Your face scrunched up at the name of their beer. It was disgusting. Uihoy chirped his answer. Vic was gone again, heading to the kitchen for said drinks. You only had what was safe for a human. Water and some sort of carbonated drink that tasted like Pepsi. Once in a while, they’ll be able to pick up what tasted like Sierra Mist. That stuff was a special occasion though since it cost so much and was rare.
As soon as Vic was gone, he was already back. The beer like drink soared through the air. Uihoy snapped his hand out and snatched it cleanly through the air. Your soda was also thrown across the room. You barely had enough time to reach out and clumsily catch it. “Vic’tao! Careful,” you scolded and glared at the laughing Yautja.
The male made his way back over to the chair. Take out boxes were set out. Some of it left inside of the bags. This felt like a classic moment back at home. You would be alone in your apartment, having take out after a grueling day at work.
Two boxes were set down in your lap. You quirked a brow before Uihoy set the beer in a cupholder and grabbed the top one. “That for little hunter.” A purple finger pointed at the white box left in your lap. You opened the box, eyes scanning over the contents.
Steam first met your nostrils before your eyes began to water. You held back a cough. “Ehm… is this spicy?” you questioned and looked over Vic to turn your head away from the flavors trying to kill you.
Said Yautja peered over his shoulder. “Yes, mild though.” He opened a box and took a lung full of the scent. Then, he paused. “Wait… C’jit. You’re ooman.” You raised a brow and snorted. After all this time, it still slips his mind. Never in a dangerous, harm situation though. Never.
“It’ll be fine. I think. I’ll just give it a try. How about that?” you attempted to resolve the situation. Surely it couldn’t be that bad. Yet, here you are, with a low tolerance. You instantly knew you were going to regret this entirely. But, the two of them went out of their way to get food, specially food for you that’s human safe.
Vic’tao gave you a skeptical look. Uihoy’s hand tightened in your hair. “You don’t have to eat it if you know it’ll hurt you.” You gave the Yautja a look.
“I’ve got this. Promise.” He looked a little longer at you before relenting and returning to his own buffet in front of him. You looked down at your food and took a deep breath in. Yes, you were going to feel pain. A lot of pain in less than five minutes.
You picked up the utensil and dug into the noodle like dish. The noodles were main red and orange colors, much different then what you’re used to back home. Despite the heat, the smell of it was delicious. No wonder this place was a hit if you couldn’t tell by the scent. Then, you carefully scooped the noodles off of the fork.
At first, flavors bursted on your tongue. You groaned and leaned against Uihoy. God, this was the best food you’ve had in a long time.
Then, your lips began to go numb. The rest of your mouth bursted into flame. Your jaw dropped as you tried to cool it down by breathing heavily.
“You good?” Vic’tao laughed while watching this unfold in front of him. “I told you, you don-“ you interrupted him by raising a hand.
“All finah. Ah eak. Goo… good,” you choked out and started to chug down the closest drink to your hand. But… that only made it worse. You winced before downing some more noodles. There were some hardy choices you are regretting at the moment. Despite the heat though, the flavors were amazing.
Drool started to drip from the corner of your numb lips. You slurped it back up and tried to finish off your drink only to find out it was gone. You find the second closest drink and started to down it as well. The taste fought off the heat for only a moment.
It only got worse. You quickly packed up the box, threw in back into Uihoy’s lap as you sprinted to the kitchen. “Muy mouf is on firer!” you screamed and about smacked into the cockpit door when it didn’t open. You slipped past and gone you were.
By the time you returned, the fire was mostly subdued. You slowly walked back into the cockpit, a slice of bread in your hand. Both of your mates were holding back their laughter and watched you. You held up the piece. “I found bread,” you mumbled through still numb lips.
Uihoy nodded and hummed. “How’s the mouth?” Your eyes narrowed on his purple scales. You bit off another chunk of the bread. It helped fight off the heat.
“Fine.” You climbed back into Uihoy’s lap without another word and slow chomped down on the noodles again. Your bread helping along the way.
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simplybakugou · 5 months
Note
omg I saw you post about wanting dad!Bakugo ideas and tbh I have so many but I don't wanna be greedy or overwhelming so here's one <3 Dad!Bakugo when you get caught sneaking out. He assumes the worst- thinking you were out drinking, partying, something like that (y/n would be like.. 14-16 or somethin, yknow?) But in reality you were just sneaking out to go to the 24/7 ramen place down the street with your secret partner who you haven't told your dad about bc they're the same gender as you <3 It's a lot, I completely understand if ya aren't interested in writing it <33 I just think it would be a really cute and emotional but also amusing and heartfelt idea that I would love to read but can't find the motivation to write </3 Love your work!!!!
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⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; teeniest tiniest bit of angst; fluff; talks of being closeted ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3492
A/N: not me writing two works in 2024 back to back?! crazy omg. also i decided to make y/n bakugou’s s/o and not his child as that’s what i’m most comfortable writing about. hope that’s okay! also please feel free to send as many dad!bakugou ideas you want cause i’ve been wanting to write as many as i can. sorry if the ending is awkward i had some trouble finishing it :( tysm for requesting and i hope you enjoy :)
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“Fuck,” Bakugou cursed to himself, setting the knife down and grabbing a paper towel to tend to the small cut he had just accidentally put onto his index finger. Your home was filled with a savory aroma as Bakugou’s cooked dinner as he did every night.
“Are you alright, Katsuki?” You asked from the dining room, averting your eyes from your laptop and peering into the kitchen to check on your husband. 
“I’m fine. It’s just a small cut,” Bakugou called out, grabbing and applying a band-aid from the cabinet and onto his finger. Afterwards he went back to the task at hand. “Where’s Suki?” 
“She’s upstairs, I think she’s showering. Apparently they were working on training their quirks in U.A. and she said she felt disgusting,” you responded, reverting your attention back to the work you had left on your laptop. 
“So they’re already training their quirks? I need to train with her more then.” Bakugou turned the stove off as he moved tonight’s dinner to a singular dish. He went over to the dining table where you were seated to set the table.
You furrowed your brows at him. “Katsuki, she trains enough at U.A., not to mention you train with her after she comes back from school too. You’ll overwork her if you do even more than that.”
“She needs the training. She has to get stronger if she wants to get better.” Bakugou spoke to you while walking back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table as he placed all of his dishes down for his family to share. “She’s gonna get her provisional license soon and I don’t want her to fail like I fucking did.”
“I understand, but you’re being too hard on yourself and on her,” you said, shaking your head at your husband who has a tendency to overwork himself. 
“If she’s gonna be the best, she has to be better than me. And I’m gonna make sure she’s a hundred times better than I ever was in U.A.,” Bakugou stated adamantly as he sat himself across from you.
You sighed, closing your laptop and setting it aside so you could eat. “You’re impossible, you know that?” 
Bakugou smirked as he was about to let out a snarky comment until Suki walked downstairs, a towel in hand as she was still drying her ash blonde. 
You smiled at the sight of your daughter. “Suki! You’re just in time for dinner.”
Suki stopped as she took in her parents at the dining table and the giant spread of food Bakugou had prepared. “Oh, I thought I told you guys I wasn’t that hungry today…”
Bakugou whipped his head around to look at his daughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”
“Whoops,” Suki said, laughing cautiously as she rubbed the nape of her neck with her hand. “I’m kinda tired from all the training today so I think I’m just going to head to bed.”
You frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe eat just a little, sweetie.”
Suki shook her head. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine.” She turned to her father. “And I’m sorry, Dad. I know you worked hard to make all of this.”
Bakugou sighed. “It’s fine. Pay me back with training right after you get back from school tomorrow.”
Suki winced but nodded reluctantly for her father’s sake. “Alright.” She turned around and made her way upstairs as she called out, “I’m going to bed. Good night!”
“Good night, sweetie!” You called back out to her. You averted your attention to the delicious spread in front of you, once again thankful for having a husband who could cook so well and alleviate you from the burden of having to do so. 
“That shitty kid needs to eat more,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving his homemade meal into his mouth in the process. “She’s not gonna get stronger if she doesn’t eat well.”
“I agree with you there. At least with the eating more part.” You took a sip of water. “I hope she’s doing okay. You don’t think she’s overwhelmed at school and she’s just not telling us, right?”
“She’s fine, you’re worrying too fucking much, Y/N.” He glanced back at the stairs before eating again despite his statement. He didn’t want to say it aloud as he knew you would start freaking out but he was also concerned. Bakugou always wanted what’s best for his daughter who was inspired by her pro hero father to become a pro hero herself. When Suki expressed her interest in becoming a pro, Bakugou had to physically hold himself back in a way to not overwhelm her with how excited he was with the news. And you could see it yourself. You saw the way Bakugou perked up and seemed more enthusiastic, in his own way of course, every time Suki asked for training advice or told Bakugou about her day at school. You loved and admired their bond and how much closer they were getting the more she developed her quirk and skills. 
You leaned back, patting your full stomach. “That was delicious, Katsu.” You stood up with your empty plate in one hand and patted his head with your other. Bakugou glared at you as he stood and cleared the table. 
You went over to the sink to wash the dishes, intent on putting your share of the housework as Bakugou cooked only to be lightly pushed out of the way as Bakugou began to wash the dishes. 
“Katsuki!” You exclaimed. “You always do this. I’m supposed to be the one who cleans up when you cook.”
You attempted to push him back but unsurprisingly he didn’t budge as he ignored you and continued to clean. “Oh, shut it. Just go finish your paperwork over there.”
“Fine,” you huffed as you sat back down at the dining table. Instead of finishing your paperwork you sat begrudgingly in your seat with your laptop in your lap as you waited for Bakugou so the two of you could go to bed together. 
Thankfully with Bakugou being Bakugou, he was finished in no time and the two of you went upstairs to get some sleep. 
As you were situating yourself in bed, Bakugou stood in front of Suki’s room. He knocked on her door and the absence of a response prompted Bakugou to open the door slowly. He poked his head in and saw Suki fast asleep with her lights still on. He smiled softly at the sight of his sleeping daughter and even though he knew he was tough on her, he knew she was working hard to prove to him how she will become an incredible hero.
“Katsuki, are you coming?” You called from your room.
“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou responded as he turned Suki’s light off and closed her door. 
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The alarm blaring from her phone jolted Suki awake. She quickly turned it off, hoping it didn’t wake her parents in the same manner as it did her. The time on her phone read 3:30 AM as Suki slipped out of bed. She quickly changed out of her pajamas and into sweatpants and a sweater and tiptoed out of her room. 
Suki glanced over at yours and Bakugou’s bedroom door, thankful as it was closed shut. Sometimes Bakugou would sleep with the door cracked open slightly as he was convinced he would be able to hear anybody sneaking in if anyone attempted to rob your home or attack his family. You would call him crazy and usually waited for him to fall asleep before closing the door all the way in which Suki was ecstatic that you did so that day as well. 
Suki made her way down to the front door and took her keys and her jacket and left her home. She grabbed her bicycle that was propped on the side of the house and began making her way down the road. She shivered as the cold winter air hit her face as she rode her bike, her eyes watering as they searched for one particular person.
Suki smiled once she spotted who she was meeting at 3:30 AM on a school night.
“Took you long enough!” Yui, Suki’s girlfriend, called out from her respective bike. 
Suki grinned at her girlfriend and stopped her bike beside her. “Are you sure this place is open 24/7?”
Yui nodded. “They just opened up. Did your old man catch you?”
Suki shook her head. “I even skipped dinner and I’m starving now.”
Suki knew she wasn’t supposed to be out so late but she couldn’t help it; she missed her girlfriend. In addition, during the day she was busy at U.A. and afterwards she would train with her father. In the evening she’d have to keep up with her studies and her homework, making it almost impossible to spend time with her partner. Not to mention, Suki still hadn’t come out to you or Bakugou.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust either of you but there was a small, miniscule feeling Suki had in the back of her mind that made her fear your reactions to having a girlfriend. Thankfully, unlike Yui’s parents, you and Bakugou never mentioned or questioned if Suki had a boyfriend, but she knew Bakugou especially would disapprove of anything that would divert her attention from her training and studies.
“Come on, let’s go!” Yui exclaimed and the two girls continued down the road to the ramen shop.
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Bakugou woke up feeling immobilized. In an attempt to go to the bathroom, Bakugou tried to get up but couldn’t do so as you were literally holding him down in your sleep. Your arm was wrapped around his torso, your leg over his thighs, and your cheek was pressed against his chest. In moments like these he blamed you for making him feel sore in the morning. 
“Y/N,” Bakugou said softly as he quite literally peeled you off of his body. He was successful and he laughed once he heard you groaning in your sleep as you turned the other way.
Bakugou went to the bathroom and just as he was on his way back to his room to fall back asleep right beside you, he noticed Suki’s door was ever so slightly left open. He knew she always criticized him for leaving his door open so he knew something was up immediately.
Bakugou went over to Suki’s door, knocking once again just as he did before going to sleep earlier and again there was no response. He pushed the door open, furrowing his brows at the sight of what was supposed to be Suki’s body under her covers but Bakugou was too clever to fall for something so simple. He walked closer to her bed and pulled back the covers, not surprised to see two pillows that were formed to imitate her body.
“She fucking snuck out,” Bakugou muttered angrily to himself. He threw the blanket back onto the bed and went back to his bedroom where you were sleeping. He shook you awake. “Y/N, wake up.”
You woke up frighteningly, sitting upright. “What? What’s wrong?” You asked confused and tired. 
“Suki’s not here.”
“What?!” You exclaimed, immediately jumping out of bed and running to Suki’s room to check. You turned back to Bakugou. “Do you think she was abducted? Or kidnapped? Oh no, do you think one of those villains you fought came back for revenge?! Our poor baby–”
“Y/N, calm down,” Bakugou said, placing his hands on your shoulders. “She’s not kidnapped. That little shit snuck out.”
“What? There’s no way Suki would sneak out, Katsuki.”
“She put her pillows under the covers to make it look like she was sleeping.”
“But… why would she do that?” You questioned. This was completely unlike Suki, which made you ponder even more about her motive. Usually if she wanted to go anywhere or do anything, she would ask you or Bakugou for permission in which, most of the time, you both would say yes. 
“Who fucking knows. She’s probably out drinking or partying. She’s fifteen for fucks sake.”
“I don’t know, Katsu, I don’t think she’s the type to do something like that. The only possibility that makes sense is…” You thought about it some more until it finally hit you. “Maybe she’s seeing a boy!”
“A what?” 
“Come on, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I don’t think she’s the type to go out drinking.”
“I’d rather her go to a party than be alone with a boy this fucking late.” Bakugou clenched his fists at the thought. “I’m gonna go find her.”
“Wait!” Bakugou ignored you as he continued downstairs, grabbing his coat and throwing his shoes on. “Don’t go out and use your quirk.”
“Why the fuck not? It’s the fastest way to get to her.”
You sighed hopelessly at your husband. “It’s 4 AM, Katsu, your explosions will wake up the whole neighborhood. Just take the car.”
“I hate that fucking piece of shit,” Bakugou grumbled. “Fine.”
“And take this, too.” You tossed his phone that you had quickly grabbed, which he caught with ease. “Call me when you find her.”
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Bakugou felt himself getting more and more impatient as he drove in circles around his neighborhood. He knew Suki couldn’t have gone far as he noticed her bike was missing. He checked her friends’ houses that he was aware of for any signs of partying and checked every convenience store nearby as he knew Suki loved them. Bakugou cursed at his daughter internally as she had also turned off her location on her phone. The last place left to check was the new ramen shop that had just opened and you had begged Bakugou to try out with you once he had some time off from work.
Bakugou recognized Suki’s bike parked right in front along with another bike right next to hers. To his knowledge you were right; Suki was here to meet a boy.
Bakugou felt himself getting angrier. How could Suki sneak out for a stupid boy? Doesn’t she know training has to be her top priority? Boys are a distraction and wouldn’t do her any good. He felt justified in these thoughts as he didn’t start dating until after he graduated which was when he met you.
Nevertheless, Bakugou parked and exited the car. He was planning on busting the door down to the restaurant, scold Suki, and murder whatever stupid boy had stolen his only daughter’s heart.
And Bakugou fully planned to do so until he stopped in his tracks at the sight he caught through the window. Suki was laughing, leaning on the person next to her. It was a girl. Initially Bakugou assumed it was a new friend that Suki had made until this new “friend” kissed his daughter on the cheek.
At that moment Bakugou understood fully what was going on. He was still upset that Suki felt like she had to sneak around to spend time with her girlfriend and he still thought having a partner could be a distraction but Bakugou knew he shouldn’t be physically upset as he initially intended to. 
So Bakugou waited, his arms across his chest as he leaned against his car and waited for Suki to come out from the restaurant.
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When she was getting up to leave with her girlfriend by her side, Suki couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself as much as she did in that ramen shop. She felt so comfortable in her skin and wished she could spend time with Yui more so that she didn’t have to sneak out like she did that night.
“I had a lot of fun today,” Yui said as the girls thanked the shop owners and made their way to the exit.
“Me too. Maybe next time we can go on a date during the day and not 5 AM,” Suki joked and Yui agreed.
“Mhm. But do you feel comfortable telling your parents?”
Suki sighed. “I want to tell them soon. It’s just so scary.”
“I get it, believe me.” Yui pushed the door open and they both walked towards their bikes. “Text me whenever you’re free again.”
Suki nodded and gave her girlfriend a small peck. “Come on, I’ll drop you off.”
“Suki, I live literally right next door. If anything I should be dropping you off,” Yui said with a laugh. “Are you okay getting home?”
Suki nodded confidently. “Absolutely. I’m in U.A. for a reason, you know.”
The girls continued and finished their goodbyes and Suki watched Yui take her bike on a very short ride to her house. She waved to Yui once more before turning around to head back home in the opposite direction. And that was when she finally saw him.
There Bakugou was, still leaned against his car down the road with stern crimson eyes watching his daughter. Suki’s eyes widened at the sight and immediately wanted the ground to swallow her whole. “Dad?!”
“About damn time you noticed me,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for Suki to hear as she cautiously walked towards Bakugou.
“What’re you doing here? How’d you find me?” Suki’s bike fell on its side as she loosened her grip out of shock.
“I just wanted to check on you when I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed. Do you know how fucking terrifying that is?” Bakugou asked angrily. Suki winced at her father’s tone, looking down and away from the intensity of his gaze. 
Bakugou sighed, calming himself down. After seeing how happy Suki and her girlfriend were together, he felt his initial anger diminish. “Why didn’t you just tell Mom and me you wanted to hang out with your girlfriend?” 
Suki felt overwhelmed with mixed emotions. She felt exposed but also guilty for not being open with her parents. “I-I don’t know. It was hard keeping this from you.”
Bakugou watched Suki closely and briefly. He could see her body shaking in what he assumed to be fear. He had caught her in an intimate moment with her significant other, someone that she felt that she had to hide from her parents. And it broke Bakugou’s heart thinking about how difficult it must have been carrying a secret so big and integral to who she was as a person.
Bakugou took a few steps forward, closing the gap between him and his daughter and he embraced her. Suki, whose eyes were still fixated on the ground, was taken aback at this sudden act. Her father, one who rarely showed any physical affection, was hugging her so tightly. “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like having to keep this secret.”
Suki’s vision blurred as tears began to well in her eyes. She buried her face in Bakugou’s chest and she returned the embrace. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you guys,” Suki blurted out in between her sobs.
Bakugou patted her ash blonde hair down with his hand, still holding her as tight as he possibly could. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t be open with me. I know I can be shitty and tough on you but I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”
Suki sniffled as she pulled away, rubbing her eyes and ridding her cheeks from the tears that had stained them. “It’s not that I felt like I couldn’t open up to you or Mom. I knew deep down that you guys would accept me regardless if I were gay or straight but I kept psyching myself out.”
Bakugou smiled softly, patting her back. “Suki, there’s nothing on this fucking Earth you could ever do to make me or your mother disappointed in you. Even if you decided to not be a hero anymore, I wouldn’t give a shit. All I want is for you to put your all into whatever it is you do and not to half ass anything.”
Suki smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Dad.” Bakugou knelt down and grabbed Suki’s bike, wheeling it over to his car as he put it in the trunk. 
“So am I off the hook for sneaking out?” Suki asked, hoping to hear the answer she wanted to hear as she walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.
“Fuck no. You’re still in trouble,” Bakugou stated simply in which Suki sighed, not surprised at the answer. “Now you don’t have to sneak out to see your girlfriend, at least.” The two entered the car and Bakugou turned the vehicle on as he turned it around to head back home. 
“Can I invite Yui over for dinner sometime?” Suki asked, looking at her father expectantly.
“Yeah. You gotta explain to your Mom what happened. She’s at home thinking you got kidnapped.” The two laughed as they made their way back home to you.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years
Text
Baby Blues
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Pairing: John Price x Female Reader
Synopsis: The promise of a normal Sunday is lost when your door is torn open, and, you, kidnaped. All you can do is pray that John finds you in time.
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: allusions to intimacy, kidnapping, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluff
A/N: The lack of John fics is saddening to the degree that I’ve been forced to write one myself. Don’t expect anything good, in fact, I think everything I've written is horrible, but this is the only way the voices in my head would shut up. Enjoy.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You suppose that you’ll never fully recall what happened after the front door got busted off its hinges, but the events leading up to the heart-stopping instance are more clear than crystal.
Just that morning you had woken up to an empty bed for the sixth day in a row, light streaming in from behind the drawn curtains. Your chest had been tight as you stretched your arms above your head; attempting to shake the fatigue from your body that you knew wouldn’t leave. It was a shame you had fallen for a man who was gone so often and for so long – you never slept well without John by your side, and you missed his habit of drawing you into his strong chest while small mumbles would fall from his lips; nuzzling your hair. But, mostly, you missed drifting off to his heartbeat in your ear.
His hand on your thigh was the better version of a weighted blanket.
But now he was off somewhere that you didn’t have the privilege of knowing – he could be just down the street and you would be none the wiser – leaving you here in his home in London, adamantly waiting for him to return. You always waited, though, because John was someone worth waiting for. Even if he always came back to you with another bullet wound or a few stitched scrapes -- the point was that he came back at all. And that tired smile that overtook his lips when he saw you was reward enough, the wash of softness that spreads like a wave over the harshness of his eyes.
You couldn’t ask for a more perfect lover, even if the nights he was gone you were incredibly restless.
“I have to make breakfast,” Your lips part, a slow groan entering the bedroom as you shove back the covers, the small digital clock on the nightstand reading eight O’clock, “God, what I wouldn’t give for John’s pancakes right about now.”
When things had gotten serious between the two of you, it had come as a surprise that the Brit was insanely good at making breakfast foods. Now every time John left you he not only caused an absence in your shared bed but also in the kitchen.
Getting to your feet, you pad over to the bathroom, grabbing one of John’s large spare shirts and gray sweats on the way, pressing them to your nose as your eyes flicker at the scent of smoke and gunpowder. It was almost enough to make you slink back into bed, roll around in the covers, and press the fabric deep into your chest as you imagine John being there, fingers spayed out along your burning flesh.
Lord, you were so horrifically in love with the blue-eyed man that even the scent of him made you ache with need.
After taking a shower, staying in there for a long while, and praying the cold water washed away your heated thoughts, you dressed and went to quickly hobble down the hardwood hallway, gazing at the pictures on the walls as you pass them.
A smile quirks on your lips at the still image of you and John at the local military base, snapped by none other than Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick himself with his thumb slightly sticking out in the bottom right corner. It showed John gripping you tightly around the waist, staring down at you as his hulking frame dragged you into a hug; your arms were around his tapered waist, not minding the bulkiness of his combat vest at all as John’s iconic bucket hat sat on your head like a shimmering crown. You looked up at the bearded man like he was the only person in the world that mattered and, at that moment, he was.
Gaz had never let on that he had been taking pictures of the two of you for about a year until on your last birthday he handed you a collection in an envelope with a smirk directed at his Captain.
“You’re going to love this, Sir,” Kyle had said, and you both had watched in amusement as John’s face heated to a, you believed, adorable degree of red at the contents.
It was safe to say that every single picture that you had been given was framed and hung in every nook available in John’s house.
Finally making it to the kitchen, you settled on a simple egg sandwich with a side of steaming coffee – something that John would never be able to understand about you. He was always so adamant about having a cup of Earl Gray in the mornings that it was the cause of many amusing fake arguments and teasing.
Going to sit on the comfy leather loveseat next to the window, plate and cup in hand, your eyes lock onto a black van across the street, not even thinking about it until you had taken a sip of your drink with a sigh.
You blinked slowly, watching the shadows inside the tinted windows shift with a hitch in your chest.
“That’s strange,” Muttering under your breath, you take another slow sip and feel the heat of the coffee settle in your stomach; pooling with the small amount of paranoia that began to gradually build, “I don’t think Mrs. Rose was expecting anyone today – it’s Sunday – she’s off at church by now for Morning Mass.”
The neighbor, Mrs. Rose, was a kind old lady whose husband had been in the service years and years ago and the two of you had bonded over the fact. She often brought over sweets when she knew John was gone and you and her would trade stories to keep each other company and the lonely thoughts at bay.
Her husband had died three years ago, and, because of this, Mrs. Rose found comfort in religion. Sundays were always quiet around the neighborhood – no cars on the quiet street, no knocks on the front door, and no loud music from the younger neighbors that John always had to use his ‘Captain Voice’ on to get to quiet down. And, certainly, no strange black cars with moving shadows in the interior.
Rubbing at your fatigued eyes, you lightly tilt your head back to rest on the top of the loveseat, “John’s rubbing off on me too much, I’m going to be graying in no time if I keep this up. It’s just a damn car.” Just as you said those words the engine of the van rumbled to life, and no later the vehicle was rolling its way down the road and disappearing out of view.
You nod your head, trying to prove to yourself that you had been right to think nothing of the small disruption to your Sunday routine.
“Worrying is John’s specialty.” You say with surety, your lips pulling into a smile as the steam of your drink caresses your cheeks, imagining the man and the furrow in his brow when he sees something out in public he didn’t like. He always pulled you close to him in those instances, keeping a hand on the small of your back like he was your personal security detail instead of your boyfriend. Not that you minded, of course. In fact, you found it incredibly attractive that he cared about you that much, “I’ll leave it to him to glare at every bump in the night, especially if it means he ends up sleeping on top of me like last time.”
So why was there a twist in your stomach that refused to leave? You shook your head, setting down your cup and grabbing at your egg sandwich with twitching fingers.
Not my business, you thought to yourself, chewing the bread and protein between your teeth and swallowing thickly before going back in for another bite, Nothing even happened.
But it was, unfortunately, going to be your business at about five O’clock at night.
Just finishing a deep clean of the pantry that you had been putting off for days, your ears had tuned out the sound of the radio on the counter, your favorite song just finishing up that you had been mindlessly enjoying. If anyone had heard you singing along as you had, it would have left you more embarrassed than the time you had accidentally punched Soap in the gut when he had snuck up on you at the base.
To this day, the Scot had never let you live that event down, but Price had told you fondly that if you could land a hit on his Sargent and leave him winded, there was no need at all to feel bad.
It was only in the break between songs that you finally heard your phone ringing from the living room.
Placing down the box of noodles that you had been trying to find a place in the pantry for with a huff of breath, your hand flicked off the radio as you left the kitchen. Mildly annoyed to be interrupted, you grabbed your phone from the couch cushion where you had thrown it a while ago, flipping the screen over as the incessant ringing stopped.
“Damn,” You mutter, mad that you had missed whoever had called, though you knew it couldn’t have been John or the others of 141 – they were never allowed to call on missions due to possible breaches of security – and you never wanted to put them in danger just because you missed your boyfriend.
The number of missed notifications made you freeze.
Inside your chest, your pulse skyrockets as your eyes skim over fifty-two missed calls from John, twenty-five from Gaz, fifteen from Soap, and seven from Ghost with a rising panicked fever. That last one was strange – Ghost never called you. It wasn’t that you weren’t close, he just hated not seeing the person he was talking to over the phone when he had the choice to. He had shown up at the house multiple times just to ask a question about a chicken recipe you had made the team a while back.
Your lips thin with a sense of eerie calm. Had you been cleaning the pantry that long? You swore it had only been two hours since you started.
“What the fuck,” You whisper, but before you could click John's notification to call him back, the phone started ringing just on cue. Stabbing the green icon with your shaking finger, your hands vibrate as you snap the device to your ear, but already your boyfriend was shouting on the other end.
“-Oh, thank the bloody fucking Lord,” Your boyfriend utters your name, and his voice pauses as he takes a relieved breath, but the frantic tone persists onto the next sentence. He sounded like he was running, and briefly, you hear him shout over his shoulder to someone most likely following behind him, probably Gaz, “Listen to me right now,” Foliage is shoved aside, and you blink in confusion at the sound, “and get out of the house. Now, Love, I know you have questions, and I’d be happy to answer all of them when I know you’re safe, but I can’t explain right now. You need to go to this exact location–”
“John, what the hell? Leave the house? It’s five on a Sunday.” You stumble backward, spotting your shoes and coat by the door with a terrified expression. What the fuck was he talking about? Leave the house…right now? It was dark out, the street lamps the only light left and not to mention freezing.
“Get out of the fucking house! Now!” Flinching your breath hitches at the words you could only describe as orders as his accent deepens gutturally at the shout coming from his lips.
John had never raised his voice at you before – despised it, really, and because of that arguments always led to both parties leaving to separate rooms to cool off before talking again with level heads on their shoulders. He never had outbursts like that. Ever. But this…
Your feet rush to the door, slipping on your shoes with quaking feet as you swallow harshly.
“Okay,” You whisper into the phone, voice noticeably weak from nerves and fear. Something was horribly wrong, and the same feeling from this morning returned tenfold, nearly like an ironic ‘I told you so’ as your stomach rolls.
“...Shit, I-I–” Whatever apology John was about to utter was lost to you as your hand went to open the door, gripping the knob before stopping in your tracks.
Whispers. Whispers coming from outside the door. Your ears strain for a solid minute before your eyes widen in their sockets. Alarm bells were ringing inside of your mind, and you slowly backed up and interrupted the directions that John was spewing off, hands clenching as sweat formed in the groves of skin.
“John, someone’s at the front door. I hear whispering.” Silence, and the sound of increased panting, a body running faster and faster as shouts reverberate in the background. Were those gunshots you heard? And muffled gasping? “John.” You breathily whisper, eyes snapping back and forth but focusing on nothing.
“There’s a safe in my office, the code is 5-6-2-1. Inside you are going to find a firearm–”
“What?!” Your face stiffens, but your feet already carry you silently backward toward John’s office room, “What the fuck?”
“Listen to me,” Price grunts, voice so desperate you weren't sure the same person was speaking to you anymore, “Gaz and the others already contacted the police and Laswell, but they’re not going to get there in time. You need to be prepared for when they bust through the door.”
Bust through the door?! Your thoughts run and with gasping breaths, you turn fully around and begin rushing through the house.
“Speak to me, Love,” John utters, choice cutting out and filtering back in, “Tell me what’s going on.”
“You owe me a ring after all of this I swear to–” The front door busts off its hinges and multiple pairs of rushing feet storm through the house, and all-consuming shouts drown out your screams. You drop the phone as John bellows your name into the speaker, voice breaking. Turning to run, hands snatch at your wrists and shoulders dragging you away from the office that was so close at hand and back to the door. All you caught a glance of were black uniforms, heads completely covered like common criminals. But they were anything but.
“Get the Hell off me...! John! John, please!” Your screaming is cut off by the end of a gun falling to your temple, blinding pain erupting behind your eyes as blood spurts from a wound breaking your skin.
Disoriented, you fall silent, head lulling to the side as your swinging arms and legs fill with TV static. They lay limp as strange hands wrap around your middle, dragging you out the door as John’s voice becomes faint in the distance. You fall unconscious to his rage-filled voice, the volume of his threats so loud you heard them in the streets before darkness takes you.
“I will tear every one of you fuckers to pieces if you break one hair on her fucking head! Do you hear me?! You keep her out of this–”
                                      –
And now you were sitting tied to a chair, head throbbing with venomous fear pulsing through your veins; your body shaking as the initial confusion leeks away.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, You think, head snapping this way and that even if it makes you want to vomit right into your lap. The rope over your wrists and waist digs deep, your skin already red long before you start jerking your limbs to try and move them.
The room looked like an old storage container, with metal on the walls and floors with a single handing light from the low ceiling that buzzed. But what caught your attention more were the blood stains. Sucking in quick breaths, your eyes jerk from one to another, all dried but looking large and having spawned from wounds that no one could walk away from. Suddenly aware of your situation, a whimper falls from your lips.
Where was John? You wanted him with you, wanted to feel him bring you to his chest and never let go, feel the steady beating of his reliable heart against your ear like a lifeline; you wanted to grip his skin and lay gentle kisses to his cheeks and lips, let his beard tickle you like it always did – leaving you laughing as John rubs his head into your neck to tease you with it.
The blue peeling paint of the storage container didn’t look like the precise blue of John’s eyes, just a pale imitation. Strangely, that was the thought that made the growing tears in the sides of your eyes slip down your cheeks. That wasn’t his blue; nothing else could be. Your fingers clench into fists so tight the skin turns white.
“John,” You sob, the blood from your head wound dripping down your chin. It sings, “John, where are you? Please, I’m scared.”
Footsteps sound from outside, but you immediately know they don’t belong to your boyfriend. They were too heavy, and, whoever it was, they didn’t carry themselves with the grace that John always did when he was with you or in the field. While being built better than a bodybuilder, your lover had been trained to take on tasks that most would consider death sentences…and he sure as hell didn’t walk like that. The stranger was so loud even your untrained ears picked up on it, and your body responds by becoming even more tense as a shadow settled behind the door.
A long stretch of silence and ragged breathing, your occasional sniffling contrasting the thick air.
The large door opens with a slam that makes you flinch back into your chair, wrist ropes skinning the fragile skin as you choke at the pain.
His face is unfamiliar, one twisted by emotions you weren't sure most normal people experienced in their lifetime. He stalks closer, and instinctually you attempt to pull back to no avail. The ropes begin to draw blood, the metallic scent coating your nose.
Behind the stranger, the door closes silently, a dull thumb announcing the barrier.
“My name is Ilya,” His Russian accent was heavy, making the words harsh. Ilya clunks forward, standing a few feet from you as he stares down his large nose, “You are John Price’s pet, no?”
Pet? Despite the pounding in your head, you hold your tongue but show an annoyed grimace.
When you don’t respond, Ilya’s hand connects with your right cheek, snapping your neck agonizingly to the side with a deafening slap. Your world swims, and a buzzing takes hold in your ears like an explosion had gone off right next to you. Fresh blood flows from your lip – you think with a groan that you bit into it accidentally.
Be brave, You swallow the scream in your throat, working the kink out of your jaw, John would want me to be brave. He’s coming for me. I know he is. The thought comforts you. Never in your life had you doubted John and his loyalty; many would call it his defining factor.
He was going to find you – him and Gaz and the rest of your boys.
“You are to answer me when I ask you a question, Pet. Understand?”
“Go fuck yourself,” You snarl, tears falling to your lap with dull splats and absorbing into John’s gray sweatpants. Your face burns.
Ilya smirks, square jaw pulling back. He grabs at something with his left arm, your eyes following the movements in horror as he draws a long knife from his waistband.
“Alright,” He mutters, fingering the tip of the blade and nodding his head, “I can play that game.”
He walks three steps forward before a sound like bending metal sounds from outside, and suddenly the two of you are shrouded in inky darkness. Your panicked breathing stills.
Did someone destroy the breaker box? Shaking, you find it in yourself to weakly smirk, hope rising in you.
“I hope you’re really good at dodging punches…because John saves his fists for the worst ones.”
The door breaks off its hinges, and the sound of familiar, muffled, footsteps rush into the storage container. Ilya never stood a chance.
“Get over here--!” Not being able to see anything, all you could do was listen to the feral sound of skin connecting with skin echoes throughout the metal box. A body drops to the floor with choking gasps of pleas before other people rush into the room, one shadow immediately zipping to your side. You flinch.
“It’s me,” Gaz mutters, “You’re alright, it’s just me.” You hadn’t noticed the frantically fast pace of your heart until you had the time to be concerned about it.
Gaz’s hands immediately go to the ropes, cutting you free with his combat knife before dragging you into his arms. Your legs feel weak, but you find the energy to nuzzle your head into the man’s chest with a relieved sigh. But it’s not John. Still, you hear your boyfriend reaming on Ilya, the man most certainly dead by now due to John’s strength.
“Captain,” Soap’s voice calls from the doorway, his shadow shifting. He clears his throat as Gaz places a careful hand on the back of your head, a slow sigh leaving his lips to ruffle your hair, “Sir. He’s dead.”
The ragged and bloody punches come to a gradual stop, and heavy panting reverberates. Your head turns to the side, muttering, “John?” With squinted eyes, trying to make him out in the darkness. A quick rustling of equipment catches you by surprise, but the warm hands that grip your shoulders lightly don’t scare you; it turns you around with a heart-tightening gentleness.
A new chest meets your cheek, warmer than Gaz’s as well as broader. Stiffer. John. John. John. Your hands snap around his waist with a wet sob ripping from your lungs, leaving you breathless and gasping for air as more tears come.
“Shh,” His lips are on your head, muttering into your hair as his arms completely encompass the expanse of your back. If you were any closer you would be afraid you would disappear into his skin, ceasing to exist, “Shh, shh. I’ve got you. I’m here. It’s never going to happen again, I promise you. I love you.”
You only held him impossibly tighter, and you could hear Gaz and Soap in the background let out deep sighs of relief, slapping each other on the shoulders. They exit after a few quick glances and the lights flicker on a moment later – most likely Ghost’s doing. Your heart warmed at them for privacy, though your eyes snapped shut at the sudden light.
John’s hands left you for a moment, prompting a small whine from you before they returned swiftly to grip the back of your head, the large night vision rig on his helmet re-set back so he could see you.
“Let me look at my girl,” He murmurs, chest rumbling from his soft tone. You were happy that only you ever got to hear him speak like this. You turn your head to rest it on his chest, gazing up at him with red-rimmed eyes. At the sight of your bruised cheek and bloody temple, his eyebrows furrow, a quick rage overtaking him as you watch his eyes darken. But you don’t say anything, just watch as John’s arms squeeze you before one hand travels up to your face. He lightly presses at the thin cut on your head and stops when you let out a quiet hiss. Guilt swims in those beautiful blue eyes of his.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Darling. If I had known he would go after you I never would have left you home alone.”
“John,” you whisper, voice hoarse in your throat. He leans down and presses his forehead to yours, lightly bumping against your forehead, “It’s not your fault.”
“But I–”
“You came for me, didn’t you?”
“Always.” He says it so softly you feel your eyes tear up again.
“Then that’s all that matters.” You tilt your head and capture his lips with your own, lightly moving your hands to grip his hairy cheeks as his thumb caresses your temple, the other you feel shaking around your waist. The adrenaline was wearing off.
John was tall, and to fully kiss him you had to get up on your tip-toes and hope he wasn’t going to tease you and pull back with a cheeky smile, but you would do it until your feet bled to feel the warmth that he give you as his lips dance with your own. They were soft for such a hardened man. Had he been using the Chapstick you had let him borrow for when he was away?
You pull back for air, your neck becoming sore at the angle you hold it just as John sighs, eyes flickering over you once more. You make a noise in the back of your throat in question.
“Marry me.” Your eyes widen, recalling your comment before your house had been broken into. Had he really asked you that?
“Are…are you really asking me for my hand while the dead body of the man that kidnapped me is behind you?”
“So…is that a ‘no?’” His eyes crinkle.
“You’re mental, John Price,” A smile splits your features, and you find him mirroring your expression. Your heart pounds, though not from fear this time. At his cheeks, your hands drag him in for another kiss, brief, though you pour every single emotion into it as you can. You feel the hitch in his chest and feel a blossoming of pride that you have the same effect on him as he does you. Leaning back, he chases you, though you stop him with a finger to his lips. There were his eyes again, those sapphire blues that sparkled when they looked at you, “But, yes.” You whisper, liking the way he almost looked relieved.
Like you would ever deny him. Like you could deny those baby blues when they looked at you with such love.
“I love you,” He whispers, pressing his face into your neck, kissing the skin in reverence, leaving fireworks in the wake of his lips.
“I love you more,” You whisper, nuzzling into his chest and gripping his shirt in tight fists. He chuckles at you.
“Not possible.”
2K notes · View notes
alatushours · 6 months
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☆ LOVE POTION, various — he doesn’t know much about love, but he’ll try his best for you.
contents. featuring xiao, dan heng, and roronoa zoro. gender neutral reader, fluff. xiao + zoro is canon au, dan heng’s is modern! your first date with each of the boys ♡ word count. 537
notes. writing the prompt “love potion” for my own event despite it having been closed for a month LMAO i just need an excuse to write something… anyways uh pls pretend i’m not writing xiao when i said i wouldn’t in a while 🫣 i have a wip for tighnari otw i promise !!!
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xiao has never been interested in mortal celebrations. but after meeting you, he can’t help but want to learn more about them. “would you… want to come to the lantern rite with me?”
you were pleasantly surprised when he asked; glad to see that the yaksha was finally coming out of his shell. you laughed, took his hand (which prompted a blushing mess out of him), and led him down to the harbor, where the festivities were already starting.
figuring he still wasn’t too comfortable being around large crowds of mortals, you took him to a secluded spot on a hill by the pavilion, close enough so that you could still see the lanterns that lit up the sky.
“they’re beautiful, aren’t they?” you ask him, following his eyes as he stared at tiny glowing dots fading in the night. xiao nods slowly, seemingly mesmerized by the sight. you smile softly, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you watch the fireworks show that followed.
dan heng, being a bit of a bookworm, was a little… socially awkward, to say the least. luckily, you found his quirks entertaining. “there’s a new bookstore that opened across the street… would you be interested?”
so one tuesday afternoon, you meet him by the park, where he stood with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. you giggle when he awkwardly offers them to you. “of course, why else would you have bought them for?”
making you way to the bookstore, dan heng watches as you stroll down the aisles, picking out some you wanted. he felt his heart swell as he spies his favorite novel in your hand. “i didn’t know you liked that book too…”
the two of you end up spending the rest of the afternoon in the cafe next door, chatting about your favorite books over coffee. he smiles, maybe being a geek isn’t a such bad thing after all.
zoro never quite wanted to leave the sunny when the crew docked on a new island; he preferred to stay behind and take a nap, or train. but you always encouraged him to come along, and he finally decided to go along with it. “i’m gonna go explore… if ‘ya wanna come with.”
there happened to be a small crafts market in the town nearby, so you and zoro (mostly just you) went admiring the handicrafts the stalls had on display. "aww, how lovely!" you admire a little clockwork deer that reminded you a bit of chopper.
then you realized you had some business to attend to in town, so you left zoro behind for a few minutes, saying, "don't you dare get lost while i'm gone!" he stands there awkwardly, before glancing back at the crafts stall. while i'm here...
...and then of course you happen to accidentally encounter the marines, causing you to have to run back to the ship with zoro in tow. when you're finally safe in the crow's nest of the sunny, however... he presented you with the mechanical deer toy from earlier, to your joy. "i don't have that many berries but.. i know you wanted it, so i guess i'll just have to pay nami back later."
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end notes. i thought i would write a lot for xiao but i ended up writing more for zoro lmao he’s been taking up all of my brain recently but i hope you enjoyed <3
© alatushours 2024. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work in any way, nor upload to any other platforms. in the meantime, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and consider leaving a follow! it helps a lot ♡
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scoonsalicious · 6 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 10, Uneasy - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, bad jokes, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here. (hand job, fingering, PIV), little bit 'o' dirty talk, coitus interruptus, Bucky being a dumbass, insecurity, thoughts of self harm, arguing, mentions of emotional affair, poorly translated Russian, Pocket giving Bucky more chances than he deserves, really.
Word Count: 2.5k
Previously On...: You made the mistake of watching Bucky and Jade spar in the training room. Needless to say, it was... intense, and you weren't the only one to notice. Looks like others in the Tower are taking bets on how long it'll be before Bucky cheats on you. He promises loves only you, only wants to be with you, and you want to believe his sweet words... you just cant shake the look of guilt that crossed his face when he realized you were watching him and Jade spar. Hopefully, he can prove his devotion to you with a little horizontal sparring of your own.
A/N: I'm sorry. Really, that's all I got for this one. Pocket's reaching her breaking point, but she's not quite there just yet; bare with her as she tries to deal. I mean, would any of us give up on Bucky fucking Barnes until we absolutely had to? I think not, lol.
Part three of this chapter is fairly short; I'll be posting it today, as well.
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @crist1216 @vicmc624 @sashaisready
Bucky pushed you up against the hard surface of your bedroom door, his lips trailing fire along your skin as he kissed you with an almost animalistic need. You could feel the press of his erection through the fabric of your workout clothing digging into your stomach as you tilted your head back and let out a soft moan.
“Bucky,” you breathed as his hips rutted against you, “we should get inside.”
“Need you so bad, Pocket,” he grunted, fingers finding their way under your shirt and sliding along your already sweat-slicked skin. “Should be getting inside of you.”
“Mmm, clever,” you hummed as you reached behind your bodies for the door handle. You managed to awkwardly twist it open just as Bucky’s hips pressed particularly aggressively, sending you both tumbling through the doorway.
Bucky’s hands were on you before you could fully lose your balance, keeping you upright and supported as he led you both to the couch.
“Bed’s not that far away, Barnes,” you said in between kisses as you began pulling off your clothes.
“Too far away,” he countered, bouncing on one foot as he worked to tug off his sneaker. “You’re lucky I’m too much of a gentleman to take you right on the floor.”
You quirked an eyebrow at that. “Lucky, huh?”
“Remember the rugburn you got last time?” he asked, his smile positively predatory as he gently pushed you backwards onto the cushions, his hands reaching for the waistband of your leggings and pulling them down your legs.
“Touche,” you contended. The memory of your chafed skin certainly had put a damper on the otherwise delightful experience. You might have to talk to Tony about getting some carpet with a little more shag.
You giggled at the thought, causing Bucky to raise a questioning eyebrow as he helped you out of your sports bra.
“I was thinking we might need a better shag carpet for future shagging,” you informed him. His laughter quickly turned into a moan as you reached down into his shorts and took a hold of him, stroking his length.
“Shit, baby,” he groaned as he thrust his hips into your hand. “They didn’t make girls like you back in my day.”
You pulled him free from his bottoms and boxer briefs, taking one hand off of him to push the fabric down. “Thank God for that,” you told him. “You might have been tempted to dodge the draft, otherwise. Then where would we be?”
Bucky grunted, and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. “How can you make such horrible jokes and still manage to be so fucking hot?” he asked you with a grin.
You took your hands off of his cock, pretending to be offended. “Horrible?! My handjobs are only for people who think my jokes are funny.”
“Did I say ‘horrible’?” Bucky asked in mock confusion, reaching down to run his metal fingers through your waiting folds. The cold touch made your back arch as he inserted two fingers inside of you. “Coulda sworn I said hilarious.”
“Weak save attempt, Old Man,” you panted as he picked up the tempo with his hand. “Judges– fuck– judges allow it, you can put it in. God, put it in!”
“Gotta get you ready, doll,” Bucky grinned down at you. “Get you good and stretched.”
“I swear to God, Barnes, if you don’t start fucking me right now—” you words were cut off by a scream as Bucky took heed of your warning and pushed himself into you, until he was filling you completely. “Yes!” you shouted, relishing in the feeling of being so consumed by him. “Fuck, so good, Buck!” You began thrusting your hips, begging him to move within you.
“Fuck, sweets.” Bucky’s thrusts were hard and forceful. “Takin’ me so well, all with no prep. Making me so proud, the way you’re grabbin’ me. Feel like fuckin’ heaven!”
You reached your hands around his back, digging your nails into the strong muscles of his ass to pull him closer, as though you wanted to leave no space between your bodies. “So big, Bucky,” you moaned into his ear as you hitched a leg around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. “Never had anyone fill me up as good as you! Was fucking made for this cock.”
Your words drove Bucky feral, and like flipping a switch, his thrusts went into overdrive.
Between the sound of slapping skin and your wanton moans, you barely registered Bucky’s cell phone ringing. You paid it no mind as he pounded into you, completely ignoring it until you felt his pace falter. Looking up, you saw him reach over and grab it from the coffee table. 
“Come on, Buck,” you whined, “leave it. I’m sure Steve won't mind waiting a bit.”
Bucky looked from the caller ID to you, a combination of embarrassment and frustration on his face. “It’s Vix,” he said, fingers moving to the screen.
“Ignore it,” you told him, feeling the tide of your impending orgasm slowly slipping back out to sea. 
“It might be important,” he said, his voice sounding pathetic to your ears. 
“Barnes,” you warned, your voice low and icy. 
“It’ll just take one second.” He got up, pulling out of you with a slick sound, and you felt your vagina dry up and board shut, closing for business. He turned his back to you as he accepted the call. You didn’t even bother to listen to his half of the conversation-- nothing she had to say to him was important enough for this, opting instead to get up and go into the bathroom.
Your hands were shaking with rage as you tried several times to lock the door behind you before succeeding. You could not believe your ‘boyfriend’ had just pulled out of you, in the middle of sex, to answer another woman’s phone call. An image of his face from this morning flashed before your eyes as you turned on the shower– the guilt that seemed to cross his features when he had realized you were watching him spar with Jade. You’d been so quick to put it to the back of your mind, to ignore it, but now? After this? God. Was he thinking about her while he was inside of you? You turned the heat of the water up as far as it would go and grabbed your loofah, preparing to scrub the disgust you felt from your skin.
No. You heard Pepper’s words echo in your head– you can’t control what other people do, you can only control your response to them. And you were not going to fall into your old habits over this. You turned the heat down to a tolerable level and lathered your loofah with soap, needing to (gently, you reminded yourself) cleanse your body of the sweat, sex, and shame. 
As you were rinsing the soap from your body, you heard a pounding on the bathroom door. “Doll?” Bucky’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Doll, what’s wrong? Why is the door locked? If I knew you wanted a shower, I would have joined you.”
Was he fucking serious right now? You took your sweet time, not answering him as you finished your shower, toweling yourself off before you wrapped yourself in your robe. 
With a resigned sigh, you opened the door back into your bedroom, half expecting to find Bucky gone, perhaps to have Jade take care of erection she’d prevented you from finishing off. But he was sitting on the edge of your bed, his boxer briefs back on and elbows resting on his knees. He looked up when he heard the door open.
“Hey,” he said, standing and making his way toward you. “Sorry about the interruption. Vix just had some questions about the training schedule for the rest of the week. But that’s all squared away, so we can get back to it.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him. “You can’t seriously think that I want to have sex with you right now,” you said. Your voice was hard and impassive. 
“What?” Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
You walked over to your dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of panties and leggings. With your back to him, you shimmied into them under your robe. “Call me crazy, but I kinda consider you stopping mid-thurst to take a call from another woman, my fucking nemesis, of all people, to be a bit of a mood killer.”
You heard Bucky sigh behind you, and you could just imagine him running his hand through his hair. “Pocket,” he said, “come on. Don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Your entire body stiffened at his words. Turning around slowly, you gaped at him. “Excuse me?”
Bucky held his hands palms-out, as if to indicate he wasn’t a threat to you. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. I was just taking a phone call.”
It took every ounce of control you had within you to not explode on him. You closed your eyes and took one, two, three deep breaths that did nothing to calm you. “You took a phone call,” you said, “in the middle of sex. With a girl who has been a problem between us since the moment she showed up. How do you not get that that is not okay? At fucking all?”
“God, I thought therapy was supposed to help fix your problem,” he said, “not make it worse.”
You blanched at that. “My problem?”
“Yes, your problem,” he said, voice rising. “I haven’t done anything wrong, but you keep trying to paint me out to be the bad guy. You make me feel like a fucking cheater when I’ve never even touched her.”
“You don’t need to touch her to be having an emotional affair with her, Barnes,” you said, voice quiet. 
“An emotional affair?” he barked out a laugh. “We’re just friends.” 
“Just friends?” you asked, incredulous. “I’m ‘just friends’ with Steve. Should I take a call from him when I’ve got your dick inside of me?” You watched in real time as Bucky’s expression darkened. You hated using his insecurities about Steve to make a point, but he was leaving you no other choice. You didn’t know how else to make him understand why he was hurting you so badly.
“That’s completely different,” he said through clenched teeth. 
You raised your chin. “It’s not different, at all, and you know it. If I stopped having sex with you to take a call from Steve, you would be livid. And honestly, I’m so disappointed in you for pretending like it’s not the same! That’s so disingenuous, Bucky.”
Bucky tilted his head back and sighed. “I feel like we’re going around in circles here, Pocket,” he said, voice heavy. “You keep getting upset, and I keep trying to reassure you, but it’s like you want there to be something going on between her and I.”
“I keep getting upset because you have no fucking concept of appropriate boundaries, Bucky!” you shouted at him. You startled yourself– you’d hardly ever raised your voice at him in anger. From the look on his face, it had taken him aback, too. “I shouldn’t have to be constantly telling you that your interactions with her are inappropriate for a guy in a monogamous relationship! It’s fucking exhausting, but every time I think we’ve made progress, you turn around and do something that makes me feel even worse!”
“Well, if I’m so fucking exhausting, then why are you even still with me?” he shouted back at you.
You stared at him, eyes wide. Was this it? Was this where he left you for Jade? Had you finally pushed him too far?
But his face immediately fell as he realized what he had just said. “Hell. Doll, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what to do to make you feel better.” He took a step toward you, opening his arms, and you let him embrace you, though you didn’t hold him back. “I don’t know how to convince you that there’s nothing between her and I.”
You looked up at him. “Think of Steve,” you said. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at you. “What I mean is,” you continued, “when you’re about to do something with Jade, ask yourself if you would be comfortable with me doing that with Steve, knowing how he feels about me. But instead of Steve being your best friend, imagine that he was actively trying to break us up. Like, would you be cool with me and Steve going off and forgetting about you in Central Park? Or would you be happy watching Steve sit on top of me during a sparring session while you listened to agents talk about it's just a matter of time before we start fucking?” You could tell by the way his arms tense around you that the very thought angered him. “Or if I decided that it was so important that I take a call from Steve that I just stopped having sex with you, even after you told me to ignore it. Don’t tell me none of that wouldn’t make you feel like absolute shit.”
Bucky blew out a breath and pressed his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re right,” he said sadly. “That would drive me insane. I’ll work on it. I’ll… I’ll try to think of Steve.”
You sighed. “I need you to do more than try, Buck,” you told him. “I need you to do it. Cause this, the way things are right now? It’s killing me.”
The look Bucky gave you then was enough to break your heart. You knew, you truly knew he wasn’t doing any of this on purpose, but he couldn’t keep falling back on his cluelessness as an excuse. Not anymore. Not when it was destroying you.
“Mne ochen' zhal', moya lyubov'.” I’m so sorry, my love. “I will do it.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him. You were relieved that he was finally, hopefully, seeing where you were coming from, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more times he was going to put you through this. “I love you,” you said into his bare chest.
“I love you, too,” he replied. After a beat, he said: “So, I guess sex is off the table for this afternoon?”
You chuffed at that, then looked back up at him. “Seriously?" you asked, giving him a look. "Obviously, for now; don’t be stupid,” you said. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be persuaded to revisit the possibility later.”
Bucky smiled down at you. “I can work with that,” he said. “How about a movie, instead? I’ll take a shower, you grab some snacks from the kitchen, and we can watch whatever you want.”
“Mmm,” you said, feeling hopeful. “You will regret giving me that power, Barnes.”
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