#is it really that hard to literally brush the fuckin mess you left on the counter onto a paper towel. at the MINIMUM

[home-and-having-tea]

Going fucking insane, there are stains and onion peels and whole ingredient bits just. left on the counter. My roommate signed the chore chart saying she would clean them. She obviously did not and I texted her saying "hey you said youd do this chore can you do it next time youre in the apartment" and she had the GALL to text me back "why? whats wrong with them?" THERE ARE CRUSTY BITS OF DRIED SAUCE AND RICE GRAINS JUST. SITTING ON THE COUNTER IT IS CLEAR YOU DID NOT CLEAN THEM JFC. THERE IS A STAIN OF SOME SORT THAT HAS BEEN ON THE COUNTER ALL WEEK SO I KNOW DAMN WELL YOU HAVENT CLEANED IN A FUCKING WEEK. IM GOING TO CRY

[amourtoken]

Give us the piss content ami/hj

i was gonna say WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME but u clearly said u want the piss!!!! I will begrudgingly deliver since my shame left me long ago. This is gross and unedited. This is your warning.

Anyway.

Nicky coming over after touring for well over 2 months and not having cum once during that whole stent cause he had zero alone time so he's practically dripping the second you so much as brush against him and you can literally feel his dick twitch against you when you drag him in for a hug. Poor thing :((

You skip the small talk cause you know why he's here, he's needy. He's grabbing at any part of you he can reach and visibly shaking by the time you're dragging him onto the couch to lay between your legs, hands roaming his torso while his back is against your chest. He throws his head back against your shoulder when you palm him through his jeans and lets the most pathetic whimper out. He's rlly never like this, but fuck he doesn't have the brain power rn to be the dom he normally is.

He's panting like a fucking dog when you actually have your hand around him, practically pouring pre like a faucet. You don't think he's ever been this needy since you've met him. He cums basically out of nowhere when you brush your thumb over his tip and he apologizes for not lasting long but he gets cut off pretty quick when you don't stop stroking him at all. His legs are twitching and he's whining with his head on your shoulder, he's reaching back a little to run his shaky hands up and down your thighs from your spot behind him.

By the time he cums again he's basically convulsing against you, whining about how sensitive he is but you just slow your pace and continue. You're telling him how good he's being for you and how pretty he is like this and he's just moaning in response and burying his face against your neck. The closer he gets to his third orgasm the more squirmy he gets and he keeps whimpering about how he can't do it again, how it's too much, but you assure him he definitely can handle another.

Youre both so fucking messy by the time he cums again it's actually insane. Your couch is gonna need a deep clean after this anyway but you can think abt that later. You're using his cum as lube to keep up your pace and you damn near have to hold him down at this point. He's in actual tears whimpering and begging for a break cause he can't cum again, he can't. We'll see. If he really wanted to stop, he would've stopped you and meant it, and he hasn't has he? His nails are digging into your thighs and his voice is totally broken as he bucks his hips up against your hand almost against his own will. He's so fucking sensitive it hurts by now but he can't stop himself or you, he needs a break but refuses to actually take one.

Your free hand that was resting on his neck slides down his torso to take over stroking his cock so your other hand can massage his balls and he melts back into your hold like he can't hold himself up anymore. He only tenses up right as he's gonna cum again, this time just feels different.

"F-fuck- fuck- pl-plea-se- i-i can't- I cant-"

" 's t-too fuckin' m-much- I c-cant- fuck-"

Cumming 4 times in a row is insane for anyone but it's worth it for sure when he tenses in your arms and yelps when his 4th hits him like a fucking truck. It spills over your knuckles and his lower stomach but doesn't stop there cause he doesn't stop shaking, if anything it gets worse. You brush your thumb over his tip like the first time and rather than cumming again he surprises both of you by pissing himself. He didn't even know that was a thing but he has zero control over it and you think it's hot you've drug him so far over the edge that he has that little control over his own body. Now he's earned his break.

poor thing is in full blown tears and trying to catch his breath, he knows he's a mess but can't even worry about it right now his heart is racing ao hard in his chest. You run your hands back up his torso and press a kiss to his temple, praising him so fucking heavily for doing so good for you.

He can't even respond, words left him ages ago.

[sugawarassoulmate]

Hi, peach! Hope you're doing well! Please talk more about toxic!rich! boyfriend! Sakusa (you've only mentioned him before and he hasn't left my mind since)

*kisses u*

words: 591

cw: fem!reader, car sex, public sex, pet names, i want a rich boyfriend 😤, minors dni

ooooooh what i would give to have rich bf!sakusa be mine :///

obviously this boy spoils you, taking you to the nicest restaurants, getting you cute gifts, and surprising you with designer clothes. sometimes it’s a bit too much but sakusa is so convincing that it’s hard turning down his gifts—“but, sweetie, you said you needed a new dress” “my love, this is limited edition, you can’t send it back”

now you’ll feel bad if you don’t accept them :(

literally doesn’t understand why you have a job when he’s right here 🤨 you keep telling him that he doesn’t have to pay all your expenses and he’s like “that doesn’t make sense, darling”

like why can’t he just buy you things and you just sit there and look pretty???

you’ll go out sometimes and you’ll see something you think is cute. but sakusa sees you put it back on the shelf after looking at the price tag

the next day it’s on your doorstep wrapped up with a bow

ohhhh you just know this man’s drip game is impeccable 😚👌

he doesn’t wear anything less than designer and neither should you

i like to think he comes from old money so it’s been in his family for generations. his dad is having this big fancy party with his associates and sakusa invites you to accompany him because he finds these kinds of things so boring. he’s probably stuck to your side the whole night giving you the tea about the sons of his father’s business partners

after a while he gets bored the two of you walk the grounds of the large estate and sakusa chuckles when you gawk at all the expensive cars

imagine never seeing a rolls royce before???

“let’s go for a drive,” he suggests, opening the passenger side

“fuck, omi, i’m gonna cum!” you cry, fingers tangled in black curls as your boyfriend’s tongue is buried deep within your cunt. he laughs against you, sending vibrations against your entrance. you and sakusa drove into the night, having a quiet conversation while the road disappeared underneath. he stopped near a thick brush of trees and cocked his head to the backseat. it didn’t take long for his head to be between your thighs. “don’t stop, please!”

your normally teasing boyfriend listens, thumb circling your clit as he sends you over the edge. he finally pulls away, bottom half of his face soaked in your juices. “made such a mess on me, darling,” you barely notice when he unbuckles his belt and strips—his cock red and heavy between his legs.

sakusa enters you in one swift motion, tugging the top of your dress down in the process to bare your chest to him. “so good of you to wear the dress i bought,” he grunts, enraptured at the way your cunt engulfed him entirely. his movements become sloppy in no time as if he’s been waiting to do this all night and is about to implode. “mostly buy them cause they’re so flimsy, wanna have easy access to that perfect fuckin’ body—”

his orgasm cuts him off, spilling into you and making a bigger mess than before. you’re so fucked out to worry how ruined the car must be at this point. “i’ll have a cleaning crew fix it up,” he’ll probably say while presenting you a gift for being such a good girl tonight. and of course, you’ll make a fuss about it but will eventually accept to make him happy.

sakusa really loves to spoil you.

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[angelamajiki]

Damn that Bully Dabi and Hawks fic was an amazing read! I love it when you write them full on bastard mode!

Pro Hero Bakugou sexually harassing his weak quirkless secretary who does her very best at her job. She's good at it but Bakugou always looks mad (read: sexually frustrated). High on success after a good rescue, he wants to celebrate....

OR

Cop Bakugou sees a pretty little thing outside a club. She looks sus so he decides she needs a pat down. Maybe he'll plant something to blackmail her into doing certain favors. Very bully, very bastard Bakugou.

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Bakugou x Secretary! Quirkless! AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, dubcon/noncon, dirty talk, choking, cunnilingus, overstimulation, scumbage bakugou, use of the word rape, quirkless reader, size difference, age gap, death threats, sexual harrassment, bullying, mindbreak, masturbation, office sex

AN: I’ll probably write the cop Bakugo at some point too! For now, mind the tags and enjoy :)

They say to never meet your idols and in retrospect, you wished you would have listened.

Try as you might, it seemed like Mr. Dynamight was never satisfied with your work. Admittedly, you joined his agency as his office secretary based on having a crush on the pro, but you assumed his brash nature would calm down in an office setting. You did everything he asked, obediently followed his every word, which was all met with harsh glares and what you thought were dissatisfied grunts.

Surely you thought it wouldn't be about your being quirkless, but rumors were high strung in the office about the blonde’s feeling towards those without quirks. It would explain the harsh glares and judgment he passed on you despite your work effort.

The man even went as far as to ask for your personal phone number, only to leave scathing voicemails whenever you couldn't show up to work or miss out on work gatherings he put together. You couldn't help but flush at the thought of him missing your presence. Maybe you were just bad at reading his signals? Or maybe he was just hell-bent on bullying you more than the rest of the staff.

The job paid very well, so you couldn't exactly up and leave based on his behavior. However, you did notice how...handsy Mr. Dynamight has become with you. It was subtle at first, brushing shoulders in the hallways, letting his fingers ghost against yours when he handed you paperwork.

It soon escalated to always having a hand on your shoulder, holding your hips when he had to brush behind you, towering over you from behind your chair when you showed him something. You couldn't say that you weren't flattered, but his rough demeanor remained.

It started becoming uncomfortable when he made passes at you, making sure you were cornered and alone when he did.

“C’mon, am I really that fuckin’ intolerable that you can't get lunch with me, pipsqueak?”

You assumed that he was just messing with you, so you always turned him down with a flushed face and ran back to your desk, leaving him blue balled and more desperate by the day. There's no way a pro hero like him would actually be interested in someone quirkless and weak like yourself.

But that's the reason why he liked you anyway. So small, so weak, so obedient, so perfect for him to fuck up. God, if he didn't want just to rip your tiny pencil skirt to threads and spear you on his cock like no tomorrow. A pretty thing like yourself shouldn't be working. No, no, no. You should be at home, in his home in his bed with his ring on your finger. You belong to him, don't you see that?

Katsuki only ever gives you the time of day, not those other stupid bitches who crawl up his ass every morning trying to get a crumb of attention. And what do you do with his precious time? Waste it. Always whining about how you really shouldn't, that he shouldn't be seen with someone like you. As if he gives a fuck about what the media has to say.

He even checks up on you when you're not at work! Isn't he such a gentleman? Sure, he's a bit vulgar, but he's trying to show he cares. But if you want to act like a stuck-up bitch, then he’ll gladly treat you like one.

After a particularly tough fight with a villain, the blonde wanted nothing more than to use and abuse you to get some steam off his chest. It was late, but he prayed to whatever gods were out there that you were still in the office. He left you a voicemail for good measure, hoping that you would do what you always did best and stayed obedient for him.

It was locked up for the night, but he could see your office light on from the street. Perfect. Such a good girl for him. Little did he know that you stayed late quiet often.

You hadn't even seen his previous call come through; you were too busy listening to an old one with plenty of derogatory terms being spat your way. A hand shoved in your skirt, you couldn't help but finger yourself the sound of his voice calling you moronic for skipping out of work. Mr. Dynamight was your childhood crush after all, you had jerked off to plenty of interviews of him in the past. Sure, it was creepy but no one had to know. The older man was so big, so strong and handsome. You couldn't help but feel fuzzy from the voicemail, even if it was degrading you, it was for you alone.

Speak of the devil and he will appear.

“Well, shit. Whadda we have here, pipsqueak?”

A rough chuckle came from behind you as he pulled your desk chair out and swiveled towards him.

“Caught ya red-handed, huh? Who knew you were such a little slut for me.”

Taking the phone from your hand, he hung it up on the receiver and took your hand out of your panties. He snatched your fingers greedily in his mouth and sucked your wetness off of him.

“You know what, I’m feeling a bit hungry. And you taste like something in the vein of what I’m tryin’ to have for dinner.”

Katsuki devoured you in a hungry kiss, lifting you out of the chair and onto your desk. He tossed aside the papers messily and spread your legs to see your slick moistening your sheer tights and panties.

“Bend over and spread that fuckin’ pretty pussy for me, pipsqueak.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough by being caught with your pants down, literally.

“That wasn't a question, that was a command, you bratty bitch. What happened to your manners?”

God did his words stir something deep inside you. Waiting was no longer a priority; catching you like this was proof enough in his mind that you were just playing hard to get.

“You should consider yourself lucky that I want you to sit on my face, you know that? I have bitches trying to get on my dick every day, but it only gets hard for you, pipsqueak.”

“I-I thought you didn't like quirkless people!”

“It's all the more reason I want to be balls deep in your cunt right now. So weak and pathetic, it's fucking cute.”

You could feel yourself tighten around nothing just at his words. He was right, you were just a pathetic plaything for him. Not hesitating any longer, he ripped off your skirt and threw it behind the both of you. Your tights also got ripped to shreds, leaving you in your blouse and panties.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered, mostly to himself as he took your panties off and pocketed them. For later, he thought.

Katsuki didn't hesitate to spit on your already wet cunt before diving into his meal. Each stroke of his tongue sent fire straight to your core, each suckle of his lips drew a whimper from your mouth. Hips bucked into his mouth before he held them down, using just one hand to cover your torso. So small and petite for him, how cute would you be up against his massive form.

“M-Mr. Dynamight!”

“Heh, so fuckin’ cute. Call me Katsuki, sweet thing. Or daddy, if you're nasty like that.”

Your hips were held taught against his face, not allowing you to squirm or inch away from his searing tongue fucking your hole. He continued to ravage you with his mouth, pulling away only a few times to give your pussy a nice spank. Groaning into your cunt, he stroked himself at the same time.

Humiliation had dissolved into pleasure as he serviced you, tears springing in your eyes as he gripped his head tightly with your hands and thighs. Having already masturbated before getting caught, it didn't take long for him to make you see stars and roll your eyes into the back of your head.

“K-Katsuki, I’m cumming!” You shouted, squirting onto his tongue as your body shook around his head. Your fingers threaded deeply into his hair and tugged as he continued to work his tongue into your hole, riding out your orgasm.

He didn't stop, though.

“Too much, it's too much!”

“I’ll stop when I’m finished, little girl.”

You tried to push his head away, but he gripped your wrists from under your legs and had you pinned against his mouth, shaking and screaming from overstimulation. Once he brought you another good nut, he pulled away and gave your clit a kiss, chuckling when you jumped.

Standing up, he pushed his mask up to pull his back and took his rock-hard cock from his pants. He spat on your dripping hole once again before lining up his fat head with it.

Katsuki hissed as he sank himself into your cunt, holding your hips in place as you whined and squirmed under him, still overly sensitive. God, were you gripping him in all the right ways. Your legs around his waist, your hands on his forearms, and your cunt around his cock.

“Relax, pipsqueak, or I’ll end up breaking you.” He chuckled. “But you might like that, huh?”

Seeing your teary, fucked out face while teasing you? He nearly jizzed himself on the spot. But he had to hold out for you. A choked gasp was all you could respond with as he got right in your face, breath tickling your cheeks as he looked in your eyes.

“Such a dirty slut, getting off to the sound of my voice. It's better in person, isn't it?”

“D-Daddy!”

Was all you could whine as his thumb made his way to your clit, drawing slow, gently circles with his roughed-up finger.

“Oi, oi, oi, did I break ya already, pipsqueak? Y’know, you coulda just asked for my cock like a good girl if you were gonna get this drunk off it.”

His hips slowly drew back, almost pulling out all the way before slamming back in, earning a squeal from you.

“Or maybe you wanted me to take you by force? Show ya what the fuck happens to quirkless little girls who tease their fuckin’ man so much that he just has to come and take their little cunt to show ‘em who’s boss, eh?”

You couldn't help but tighten around him from his words, squirming under his hot breath as he started to grind his hips up into yours slowly.

“Good girl, letting daddy rape your cunt so willingly.”

Katsuki chuckled, sealing a hot kiss on your mouth while he gripped your throat. His hips began to piston in and out of your pussy, thick veins grinding against your spongy walls.

His brutal kisses swallowed your moans and tears while he squeezed your throat. His other thumb continued to swipe against your clit in fast motions, causing your to clamp down and flutter against his thick cock.

“Shoulda known you were a whore from the start, wearing those skirts that hugged ya in all the right places. Bending over and letting me touch you how I pleased, it's like you wanted this to happen.”

The pace of his thrust increased as he started to chase his orgasm, holding your throat and hips down to use you like the hole he knew you were. He growled and snarled into your mouth as he choked you, even more, watching the blood flood to your face.

“Yeah, baby, I've got your life in my hands now. If you won't be mine, I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Then nobody can have you.”

“Y-Yours! I’m yours!” You managed to gasp out, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into it, hoping he’ll let you up for air

“Damn straight, now cum for me, you quirkless little bitch.”

The haziness from the lack of air and the pleasure pooling in your gut sent you over the edge a third time, making you cry out his name as you came. Katsuki was right behind you, eyes screwed shut and practically foaming at the mouth as he came deep inside you, finally letting you breathe once he finished himself off.

You sputtered and coughed, desperate to fill your lungs with air as he pushed some stray hairs out of your face.

“Ya did good, pipsqueak.”

He praised, giving your ass a spank before pulling out and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“You’re coming home with me, so don't worry about the mess.”

“By the way, you're fired.”

TAG LIST: @tomurasprincess @suzuki-violin-school @sightoru @alrunemara

[erenscumprincess]

Attack on Pu$$y

♡ Pairing: Eren x Y/N reader

♡ Summary: A family trip to visit your boyfriend's home country goes terribly wrong when unwanted guests show up at your parent's hotel. With Eren already being on your dad's bad side, it's up to you two and to save your parents, your vacation, and your relationship.

♡ Genre: Comedy and lots of smut

♡ Warnings: Mentions of sex

♡ Word Count: 11.29k

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                                                         『1』

“Omg! Where's my shower cap?” you screamed, frantically tossing out all the clothes you carefully packed the night before from your suitcase. “This can't be happening,” you promptly pulled open the drawers from your nearly empty dresser and began flinging everything onto the chair beside you. Not like you’d be able to find what you were looking for under the mess you just created.  “I just spent $350 on this brazilian body wave, I need that shower cap!”

“It's on top of that big ass head,” the smug idiot you sometimes referred to as Eren, gestured to the pink sequined article that he bought for you on your last trip to the beauty supply. He was leaning forward in his chair, sweatpants hanging low, hair in a messy bun, dreary green eyes laser focused on the game he was playing with Jean and Armin. “Fuck,” he cursed, “Yo, Imma need some back up,” he shouted into his headset. 

You slowly turned around to face the mirror on your disheveled vanity, Wow, not one of your strongest moments, you thought, gingerly, removing the shower cap. Your long curls cascaded down your shoulders, what usually were bright and dolled up eyes were now rimmed with day old eye liner and lashes that were threatening to pop off. You had to admit, you did look a little rough at the moment, but even now you still remain the baddest bitch in the city, and that's on periodt. 

“Okay, where's my switch then?” you sighed, and tossed the showercap into the suitcase, rearranging all of the clothes back into it again, “You know, the pink bedazzled one?”

“Carry-on,” he responded, motioning to the backpack in front of the door, “Why are you acting like such a bimbo today?” 

Pause, did this boy just try me?  “Why are you acting like such a-,” you hesitated, trying to come up with a good comeback. 

“Exactly,” you could practically see the smirk that you heard in his deep voice.

A couple years ago, you would have never expected you’d be dating this jerk. He was the star player in  your school's basketball team, a literal god on the court, and you were just his tutor to get his grades up so he could stay on said team. But you know, one thing led to another and here you were, still dealing with his trifling ass. You grabbed the carry on and tossed all of your luggage in one place. 

“You know what, I'm gonna pack my vibrator.” “What?” Eren pulled back one side of his headphones to free his ear, his brows furrowed. 

“What?” 

“You tripping,” Eren just rolled his eyes and went back to playing on your brother's PS5, the sounds of aggressive clicking of the controller echoed through the room.

“Nah, you’re tripping if you think you’re getting any action on this trip,” you glanced around the room one last time to double check if anything was left unpacked, “not with the way you’ve been talking to me lately.”

“Babygirl, stop playing, you know you can't resist this,” Eren tossed his headset and controller on to your bed, apparently done with his match. He stood up, towering at an alarming 6’2 above you, he leaned down, inches from your face, the chain that his father gave to him as a parting gift brushing against your skin. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, flashing that handsome grin of his, “let me make it up to you.”

You took in a deep breath, taking in the scent that was Eren, a combination of mint, mahogany, and was that weed? You slowly slid your hands down his chest to rest upon his toned hard abs, admiring the start of the v line that was poking out. This man could never keep a shirt on, but you weren’t complaining, “No,” you poked his waist, ignoring what was growing in his sweatpants, “we got a flight to catch.”

Ever since Eren invited you on a trip to visit his home country, Paradis, things have been pretty crazy, to say the least. You guys have been dating for a cute year and a half and he wanted to show you a different side of him. 

“I can make it quick.”

“Don't you always,” you laugh, slapping his arm. 

He catches it and you find yourself pinned against the wall, your back against his chest. You could feel his hard on pressing against your leggings, his face leaned into the crook of your neck, “Do you feel that?” You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath on your neck. Two large hands gripped the sides of your hips, beckoning for you to move. 

“Boy, stop!” you giggled, unintentionally curling into him,  no but seriously, he's about to make me act up.  You hated how you couldn’t stand to be mad at him for too long. You let out a shaky breath at the tingly sensation that was starting to pool up in your stomach, flashbacks from previous hookups whirred through your mind like a broken cassette tape. 

“Hey! What’s taking yall so long?” a familiar voice shouted from outside your bedroom door, “We were supposed to leave hours ago!”

“And YOU weren’t even supposed to come!” You fired back. And he really wasn’t supposed to join. No one in your family was supposed to come. But your dad demanded it, if Eren still wanted to be with you. It took some convincing, but Eren finally caved into letting you bring your family, and you use the term "caved" very loosely.

“You think Imma letchu go to some foreign country with this hooligan actin’ fool!”

“Dad, they probably fucking,” another voice added, “And did you know Eren doesn’t like to wear condoms. Ah shit, I’m probably gonna be an uncle.”

You sighed, suppressing the urge to snap at your dad and annoying ass brother for Eren’s sake. 

“Fuckin’?” You heard your dad gasp, “Oh hell nah, open this muthafuckin’ door right now!” 

How the hell were you going to spend a whole two weeks with these idiots, you groaned at the thought. 

“Your dad has no chill,” Eren laughed as he reluctantly dropped your arm allowing you to turn around to face him.

“I am so sorry,” you whisper, listening for the sounds of your father’s footsteps walking away. You  gently brush away the stray wisps of hair from his messy bun out of his long lashes before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. 

“So…” he paused, securing an arm around your waist, there's a mischievous glint in his eyes. You couldn’t help but notice his gaze travelling from your face, to your chest, down to your thighs.

“So…” you repeated, bashful eyes of yours met his.

“Wanna try road head?”

[ceilingfan5]

Wedding/ sick for weird au mixes

Kravitz thinks of himself as a relatively sensible guy. Somehow, despite this, he always seems to end up in bizarre situations, and this time, he might have really taken the cake.

Not literally. Wedding cakes are so fucking expensive. Did you know this? So expensive. Even breathing is expensive when it comes to weddings. Kravitz is never getting married. If he ever feels the urge, he’s going to take a cold shower and then calculate, by hand, how many burritos he can get for the cost of a wedding while he’s still dripping wet and naked. This is a foolproof plan.

Kravitz likes plans. He likes knowing what’s going on at any given time and what the appropriate reaction is to any given situation and he likes knowing the right way to handle things, which, he’s been criticized in the past, by several different boyfriends, is like trying to get a good grade on every social interaction at all times, like he’s going to be given a report card at the end of a fucking conversation. This is normal to want and possible to achieve. Kravitz is doing great. And all of those guys saved him a lot of money on not having a wedding, so, really, he should thank them for fundamentally misunderstanding him on a level bordering on cruel.

He’s sensible. He likes plans. He wants to know the right answers. And yet? And fucking yet?? He finds himself doing shit like this, holding back the long hair of a complete stranger in the bathroom the night after the bachelorette parties. They aren’t even from the same side of the wedding party--Kravitz is firmly in Sloane’s camp, the best man, in fact, and he’s never met Taako before this week.

“So, you’re Hurley’s friend, right?” He tries to keep his voice soothing, and he pats Taako’s back a little. He doesn’t want to overstep, but he also doesn’t want Taako to be as miserable as humanly possible, which he’s certainly trying to achieve with a fervent vigor most people retain for gambling, or extreme sports. He wishes he had a little pocket guide book for weird situations like this. Turn to page 34 to comfort a stranger. Turn to page 62 for dealing with someone who is attempting to vomit everything they’ve eaten since age five.

“Yeah,” Taako moans. He leans his head, presumably pounding like a DJ scoring a hammer festival, gently against the toilet paper dispenser. “Sorry to drag you into this. You can- mmnnh. You can go. If I die, I die.”

“I think Hurley would be upset if you died,” Kravitz says gently. “You’re under contract until you wear that suit tomorrow. Maybe after that you can schedule a date with Death.”

“Hope it’s not a dinner date.” Taako snickers at his own joke, and then hiccups and covers his mouth. “Fuck!”

“Listen, not that it’s any of my business,” imagine him rapidly flipping pages in his guidebook, looking for the appropriate conversation cue. Interventions in 60 seconds. No? Maybe 25 conversation starters that aren’t about toilets? “But when we ran into each other at the casino last night, you seemed a little...” Flirtatious. Angry. Incredibly wasted. “Distracted. Is something on your mind? Besides the wedding, I guess?”

“Damn, you-” Taako hiccups again, and shifts his legs, groaning. “You weren’t kidding, that isn’t any of your business.”

Ah! Fuck! He’s losing points! What a terrible misstep! How will his grade ever recover!

“I’m so sorry-” he backpedals. “I just-”

“No, I get it.” Taako sighs. “Shit. Um. You know, I’m too hungover to lie to you? Um.” He fidgets with the toilet paper like a cat finding its own enrichment. It’s almost endearing. “Um. Okay. Yeah. I was in a mood. I would still be, if my fuckin’ head didn’t feel like it’s losing a getting-crushed-by-a-steamroller race. I’ll have more feelings later, I guess. Jot that down on your calendar.”

“Noted.”

“I, um.” Taako closes his eyes, shoulders lurching a little again, but Kravitz gently pulls his long, silky hair back from his face, and it doesn’t go further than that this time. “I was supposed to get married this year. And, uh.” He waves the fingers on his left hand, all of them incredibly empty. “Sorta fucked that one up.”

“Oh,” Kravitz says, intelligently. He imagines frantically flipping through his guidebook. Even in his head, there’s no suggestions for this. It’s a picture of a cartoon frog giving a thumbs up. Frogs don’t even really have thumbs. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I can see why that would be hard to deal with.”

“Yeah,” Taako chuckles. “It sucks. I mean, he sucks, and both of us are stupid, and the whole thing is a mess, and I’m glad it didn’t go forward, but it’s.” He covers his mouth, looking green, but his shoulders slowly relax. “S’bad. Badtime. Badtime for Taako.”

“I see that.” Kravitz decides to carefully rub Taako’s back. If that’s overstepping, he’ll take the F. Taako can tell him to fuck off, and he will, and that’ll be that. But between last night and today, he likes Taako, and he feels bad for him, going through something awful like that. It’s got to be real hard, having to be a big part of a beautiful wedding, mourning one that’ll never be, even if it’s better for everyone involved. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone else who makes you happy, if that’s what you’re looking for. You’re very attractive and funny and- and-” Kravitz’s cheeks heat up. That might have been a bit much for sure. He especially didn’t need to keep talking, because the next thing on his mind was how perfect all of Taako’s freckles are, and that’s, that’s a lot. Wrong thing to say in the wrong situation. This is such a mess.

But Taako laughs.

“Yeah?” he says. “Sounds like you like me.”

“Oh, I- um. I.” Kravitz backpedals, pulling his hand away from Taako. His long, beautiful hair falls around his face again, and even as miserable as he is, he looks like some kind of angel.

Can angels puke? Rats can’t. There might not be a correlation there. Then again, what if there was?

“I’m- I wasn’t- You’re- that would be-” he can’t quite figure out how to defend himself.

“Admit it,” Taako sing-songs, his voice still hoarse.

“I could be convinced to like you,” Kravitz mumbles. “I happen, to, uh. Happen to have an opening. In my life. For likeable people.”

Taako laughs again, tipping his head back and smacking it on the toilet paper dispenser. He whines and rubs it, looking positively wretched.

“You’re wild, Krav,” he says anyway. “Soon as I can brush my teeth, I’m gonna find out if those pretty lips are as kissable as they look.”

Kravitz doesn’t have a page in his book for this, but something in the very, very back of his mind thinks that there are more things in life to do with your money than buy burritos. If not a wedding, at the very least, a date is a good start.

[devil-in-those-eyes]

Invisible String part 2

note: It’s finally here, I’m sorry it took me so long but I really struggled with this, so hopefully it lives up to any expectations. lmk any thoughts, so predictions or theories because those were so much fun lol. I also decided that the preview is gonna stand as like an epilogue, so I’ll post that below!

more notes: flashbacks are in italics 

wc: 2.9K (she’s long, i’m sorry)

warnings: dirty unprotected sex, swearing, idk any others? mentions of alcohol. I’m not very good at these

Invisible String parts: one(epilogue, preview) 

~           “If we don’t leave right now, we’re going to be late to dinner.” You said, rushing Liana after you had just slipped on your black heels and fixed the smug fitting black dress and black jacket you had covering your bare arms.

           “God, I forgot how grumpy you get when you run late.” Liana commented, fluffing her hair after putting on her leather jacket.

           “I’m not running late, you’re making me run late.” You huffed.

           Liana shoved against your side and pushed you out of her room that you two were sharing for the night while you were visiting your hometown for the week. “Well, now I’m ready, so move it.”

           You two flew down the stairs, calling out to her mom that you two would be out most of the night. Her dad made a comment about it was like old times when Liana would finally be done with being grounded for two weeks and you two would fly out of the house together. You both laughed and gripped the doorknob, her yelling back that it wasn’t that long ago.

           You two were ready to fly out the door but a wide chest stopped you, or rather caught you as you crashed into him. His hands caught your elbows and you stumbled back into Liana as you stared up at her older brother, shocked to see him standing there. For half a second, his hazel eyes took you in, just as surprised to have you almost running him over.

           Panic almost instantly replaced the shock.

           “Maty!” Liana exclaimed happily from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

           Mat pried his eyes off of you and onto Liana, “figured I’d come home for a few days.”

           Oh, no. you internally groaned, looking down to see his suitcase beside him. You haven’t seen Mat since that night at the bar, when he asked to buy you a drink, and now you were staring at him and would see him more than you have in the last year all because you and Liana planned to be inseparable for your week home.

           “Okay, well, Y/N and I are late to meet friends for dinner but we’ll catch up tomorrow?” Liana asked, squeezing past you to give Mat a hug.

           Mat wrapped an arm around his sister but his eyes were on you, making your heart thump inside your chest. Luckily you hadn’t seen Mat much since the night you fell into bed with him, just the night at the bar, but you were struggling to look him in the eyes because it all just seemed to unfold in your mind and it brought on more hurt than you needed. You didn’t need the reminder that you had broken a promise you made to yourself, and Liana who didn’t know you made the promise.

           “Yeah, sure,” Mat breathed as Liana pulled back.

           Your friend grabbed your hand as she waved to her brother, “Night!”

           “Have fun,” he said as she tugged you and you brushed past him and his hard body. He smiled nervously and went so far as to wink at you, making your whole body tingle in response.

           “You bitch about being late and now you’re walking like bambi out of the womb.” Liana teased as you got into your car.

           “Shut up,” you responded as you got into the car, peeling out of the driveway and heading to the restaurant you all agreed to meet at.

~Three Months Ago~

           “Your smile is… gorgeous,” Mat smiled, his eyes softening as he stared down at you.

           The laugh that was on your lips slowly died down as you stood in the doorway of your apartment, Mat standing so close you could feel his breath against your mouth. Your tongue tasted your lip and Mat’s eyes stayed locked, watching the movement as his own lips parted when your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

           “Always has been,” he whispered, as if lost in thought.

           “Mat,” you whispered back, your head was fuzzy from the tequila but your body was vibrating from being so close to his all night. The dancing, his hands on your hips and lower back, and the cab ride home with his fingers dancing along your thigh. You could still feel his lips grazing up your neck while you two danced.

           “Y/N,” he murmured, lifting his eyes to yours. His raised his hands to the doorframe and leaned in further, brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

           “Are you going to kiss me?” you asked, fighting to keep your eyes open.

           Deep down you knew this was a bad idea but it was locked and pushed so far to the back of your head that you just ignored it. One little taste wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? You always thought so clearly and rationally but you hadn’t been touched in so long and Mat was standing in front of you looking so warm and familiar.

           “Do you want me too?” the little quirk of his lips left your stomach swarming with butterflies.

           Your words seemed to float away as you looked into his eyes because you nodded before the angel on your shoulder could scream over the devil on your opposite shoulder. Mat literally took matters into his own hands by cupping the back of your head and pressing his lips to yours, tasting the liquor on your tongue as his licked it’s way past your lips.

           Your fingers drifted into his hair, tugging at the dark locks and feeling a groan vibrate against your mouth while he curled an arm around your back and pulled until your bodies were pressed together. You both stumbled into your apartment and Mat kicked the door shut.

           The walk to your bedroom was a mess in itself. You had pulled away from Mat and took his hand, walking through the dark apartment, but he couldn’t keep his lips off of you. He continued to mouth at your neck as you fought to keep focus on trying to find your bedroom and when you did, it was game over for you.

           His hands were all over you, prying your shirt off and that skirt that had been teasing him all night. You managed to toss his shirt to your bedroom floor, pushing his jeans down over his hips while his fingers unclasped your bra. You pushed against his stomach and put a foot of air between the two of you because you wanted to see him.

           His skin was tight over his muscles, his chest panting and that necklace resting against his skin, the one you know he wore for games. He pushed his jeans down his legs while keeping his eyes on you, watching the bra slowly drop down your arms. The heat in his eyes caused your nipples to harden, the ache getting worse and filling your entire body and not just your clit.

           There was an understanding between the two of you because just as his fingers scooped under the waistband of his boxers, yours teased the skin of your hips and lower stomach. You both couldn’t tear your eyes away from each other’s bodies as more skin came into view, his hard cock being released from the confines of his black boxers.

           The clothes littered the floor and Mat stepped towards you while you stepped back, watching his eyes lift to yours, his lips parted in soft pants. Your knees hit the side of the bed so you sat down and laid on the bed, shivering as Mat slowly kneeled onto the bed and covered your body with his.

           You whimpered as he settled over you, bracing his hands beside your head and leaning in close, the necklace cold against your collarbones.

           “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he swore softly, almost to himself as you lifted your head to press your lips together.

           Mat groaned when your tongue swept inside his mouth and he shivered against you when your legs parted and his cock felt heavy against you, your fingers trailing the skin of his back and teasing him when you touched his sides, taking a leisure path up his stomach and to his chest.

           Your room was filled with moans only growing louder as Mat dipped his head to taste the skin of your neck with his mouth, trailing down your chest until he could wrap his lips around your puckered nipples and suck until your hips were grinding into his as the ache got worse.

           Your eyes stayed on his head, watching your fingers disappear into his hair while his lips kissed over your hip bone and to the inside of your thigh. His hands pushed your thighs apart while his eyes took you in, from the already messy hair, the pleasure and frustration twisting inside your face, to your chest heaving and probably seeing the butterflies swarming inside your stomach.

           “I’ve wanted you for so long, y/n,” Mat’s confession was heavy inside the room and muffled against the inside of your thigh but you didn’t get time to bask in it before his tongue swiped against your clit, tasting the wetness that gathered there for him.

           “Mat,” you moaned.

           Mat groaned in response, his eyes fluttering shut as his mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked hard, sending you into a spiral. He worked you hard, going between licking and sucking, watching your every move and nibbling on your thighs while he slid his fingers inside your pussy.

           He stroked your g-spot, smirking to himself when your thighs trembled. “I’m gonna cum,” you moaned.

           “I wanna taste your cum,” he encouraged, leaning down to suck your clit while your fingers tightened in his hair.

           Even with the slow build of his mouth on you, it felt like your orgasm came out of nowhere. Pleasure burst inside your stomach and spread through your body, your toes curling as you moaned his name, trembling against his mouth.

           While your head was somewhere in space, he leaned off of you and watched you, taking you in while his hand grazed over the top of your thigh.

“You look so gorgeous, naked with your legs spread for me.”

           You pried your eyes open to find Mat kneeling between your thighs, his knees digging into the bed, one hand feeling heavy and warm against your thigh. His other made slow strokes over his hard cock. You could see all of his muscles straining against his control, his abs tightening and his thighs bulging with every upstroke.

          “Mat,” You murmured, his words stealing your breath straight from your chest.

          The tequila was mixing with whatever your friend had fed you and you could see the tequila swimming inside his own pretty eyes. The alcohol and how heated his eyes were made you confident and it was why you let your fingers wander down the valley of your chest until your fingers grazed your wet clit, swollen with need and sensitive from the orgasm he just pulled from you with his mouth.

          Mat’s eyes were glued to your hands but it seemed to be the last straw of his control because before you knew it, your hands were gathered above your head and he was sliding inside your center.

           The first thrust was slow, a groan ripping from his chest as your wetness wrapped around him and his hold on your wrists tightened to the point of almost painful. He held still while you adjusted to his size, lowering his lips to yours and whispering, “made just for me.” before he began thrusting slowly.

           Being under him was something you had never experienced before. Sex with him was a different level, it was so much unlike the ex that broke your heart only a few months ago and gave you so much you didn’t expect from sex. The feeling of euphoria filled every inch of your body as he panted into your mouth, breathing in your moans.

           Being under Mat was the most sense of comfort you had felt in a long time because he reminded you of home, but then his chest brushed your sensitive nipples and your head went empty while the fire continued to burn between the two of you.

           “Mat,” you cried out as he began to thrust harder, his hips digging into yours. You wanted to feel his skin against your hands, dig your fingers in his hair but you couldn’t with his hand gripping your wrists. “Mat, please,” you whimpered, tugging your hands.

           “Fuck,” Mat groaned, letting go of your wrists and reaching down to grip your ass cheek and squeeze it in his hand while yours immediately touched his shoulders, feeling his muscles as he moved.

           He lowered his hand and licked your nipple before he sunk his teeth in and just adding to the pleasure that was burning inside your chest and stomach. Your fingers tugged on his dark hair as your legs began to shake around his hips.

           “Maty, please,” you begged, unsure of what you were begging for but found your answer when his lips trailed up your neck until they brushed over yours.

           “Want you to cum, y/n,” he moaned. “I want you to cum around my cock.”

           Your hand snuck between your bodies and the second your fingers circled your clit, you clenched harder around him.

           “Such a good girl,” he groaned, lowering onto his elbows and driving harder into you, filling you up in ways you hadn’t felt before.

           You cried out seconds before his lips sealed over yours. The pleasure was seconds from bursting apart and Mat knew it, he could feel your body ready to let go and he wanted it so badly for the both of you.

The toe curling, mind numbing pleasure just shattered through you, his name a silent scream on your lips as you came around him. “That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, shoving your hand away and rubbing your clit in deep circles, prolonging the pleasure.

           There was a moment where your head was somewhere between space and the ground, but in that time you realized Mat hadn’t cum so you took matters into your own hands.

           Your finger curled into the chain of his necklace, you didn’t tug on it but kept him close. His eyes flared with heat as he stared down at you.

           “Cum inside me, Maty,” you begged. “Fill me up.”

           “Kiss me,” he groaned before he leaned down, kissing you and licking inside your mouth. Mat didn’t last much longer as his pleasure took over, his thrusts getting sloppy before he stilled inside of you, his cum filling you and making you whimper against him.

           Dinner was fun. There was a lot of laughs, a lot of reminiscing and a lot of catching up. Liana and your other friend asked about the ex-boyfriend that broke your heart almost five months ago and if you heard from him but ever since you had sex with Mat, your ex hadn’t even been in the back of your mind. Not that you could tell them that, so you just shook your head and said he was out of the picture completely.

           It felt like old times as you two stumbled into her bedroom, giggling and trying to talk quietly because the house was dead quiet and dark.

           “I can’t believe you’re dating Ty, from high school,” you groaned as you peeled off your dress and got into something more comfortable, like soft pj shorts and an old t-shirt.

           “He’s hot now,” Liana defended. “Here, look.”

           You watched as she fished through her phone, it wasn’t long until she got a photo of her and the guy you two were talking about. Remembering how Ty wasn’t a looker back then but he sure as hell was now. Liana could tell your thoughts by the way your eyebrows raised and she laughed but then her phone screen lit up black, followed by his name.

           “Speak of the devil,” you murmured in a suggestive tone, smirking at your best friend.

           Liana’s cheeks filled with heat but she almost looked guilty, “do you mind if I…?”

           “Go for it,” you answered instantly. “I’ll go grab the snacks for the marathon.”

           Liana grinned and nodded and as you walked out of her bedroom, you heard her say, “hey, babe.”

           The house was so quiet, it was almost eerie but luckily for you, you knew your way around her home you could find everything while blindfolded. You two agreed to attempt an all nighter by watching your favorite movies and stuff your faces with snacks, it was something you guys tried to do every time you came home but coming home was starting to come less and less, what with school and work.

           The kitchen started to smell like popcorn and you poured it into a bowl, grabbing the chips and sitting on top of the counter to give Liana a few extra minutes with her new boyfriend.

           Your heart stilled in your chest as the door to the garage popped open, but as you turned your head you saw the light disappearing from the garage and Mat’s tall frame stepping into the kitchen.

           Mat was the first to speak, glancing up at you and taking his airpods out. “Hey.” His greeting came out on a pant, his chest heaving as if he just got done with a workout. His body was glistening with sweat and the t-shirt he was wearing was sticking to his skin, his hair falling everywhere as he ran his fingers through it.

           The sight alone had you squeezing your thighs together.

           “Hi,” you managed to squeak out, paralyzed in your spot on top of the counter.

[silkylious]

Limbo (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: bakugo katsuki x female reader warnings: heavy angst, eventual tiny bit of fluff at the end

omf this request is so nice i feel so bad that my writing is literally garbage in this, but thank you sm for requesting this!! <3 and im so sorry if i didn’t do your request justice (i legit hate my writing here :’))

To say the state of your relationship was unbearable would be the euphemism of the century.

Your thoughts often ran amuck, always hopelessly crawling back to that one despaired curiosity; wondering if he shared the same sentiment about your wishy-washy “friends” status as you did. He probably didn’t. That’s the seemingly unshakable brick wall that would inevitably dead-end your lovesick daydreams, each and every time. Though when his roughed-up hands linger on your skin a millisecond too long, when his steeled stare melts, hard rubies morphing into blazing lava pits, threatening to mar your very heart and soul with their scorching intensity –you’re not exactly certain you’d mind that– that’s when a flicker of something ignites within you. Hope, longing, doubt. Whatever it is, it terrifies you. Because you’re agonizingly aware of what that entails. He’s got you hook, line and sinker, but torturously he refuses to do anything with that. Almost like pulling someone in for a hug then abruptly and without explanation stopping midway, he keeps you at arm’s length. Not too far, not too close. And how that cycle destroyed you.

Katsuki was the type to jump into action and ask questions later. Except a lot of the times when these questions pertain to his own emotions, he didn’t even try to answer them, opting to shove them to the corners of his psyche, collecting dust, steadily accumulating until they become too much to ignore and he (sometimes quite literally) explodes. It’s a vicious loop that he could never break away from, he’d even come to find a sordid comfort in it. His coping mechanism was by no means healthy, far from it, but he’d grown familiar to the toxicity.

Katsuki couldn’t make heads nor tails of his feelings for you. Whenever he impulsively threw himself into the lion’s den that was your affection, caught in the moment, in the glimmer of genuine adoration in your eyes, he never came back the same. A piece of his heart would irreversibly split off and reside in the palm of your hand, he was scared that nothing would be left of it, that he wouldn’t be able to regain his bearings until it was too late. You so effortlessly juggled with his feelings, all with a single smile, it scared him that you had so much power over the fluttery sensation in his chest and yet, in the moment, it felt good. It felt so good to indulge in whatever fucky feeling was messing with his head, to let you hold him in the depths of obscurity with all prying eyes shut and what little words exchanged hushed. It felt so alleviating to feel skin on his own (for once not in battle), gentle, comforting but not coddling. It was unspoken between you that you were both more than friends. You knew it, he knew it. Neither of you ever mentioned it. What neither of you knew, however, was how far the other’s feelings ran.

But as high as your silent love made him feel, he crashed back down into the concrete when he was left to his own devices. Without your intoxicating scent, distracting touches fogging his rationality, Katsuki had all the time in the world to overthink. And overthink he did. His pride picked apart the delicate flowering in his heart, ripping it petal by petal until nothing was left but a garden of beautifully withered leaves, a condemnation to what he considered a weakness.

Katsuki was a taker by every sense of the word. Basking in your wispy adoration, only to brush you aside in favor of focusing on academics once he’d had his fill of your love. It was sickening.

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t outright confessed to him, maybe that’s what soothed the overbearing guilt that crawled up his throat whenever he saw that dejected face of yours, the one you made because of him. If your feelings for him ran deep, surely you would have said something by now, at least that’s what he thought. Or more precisely, that’s the excuse his mind conjured up in hopes of easing his conscious, trying to convince himself that self that yes, he was hurting you, but at least he wasn’t hurting you that bad. He was infinitely aware that this doesn’t put him in any sort of moral high ground, nor does it justify his actions, but, again, it was a last-ditch effort to relieve his anguish if just by a little bit, even if he knew that excuse was bullshit.    

Surely he knew, there’s no way in hell someone as hawk-eyed as him didn’t notice the tyranny he held over the porcelain pitter-pattering of your heart, didn’t notice the fleeting, love-filled glances you sent his way. This was getting ridiculous, you were starting to believe he was taking some twisted sense of pleasure from your heartache, but he wouldn’t do that, right? He didn’t derive some sick kick out of having you indefinitely under his thumb, at his beck and call… right? A few months ago, you would have answered those uncertainties with a resounding “No!” defending his cruel behavior till the bitter end. But now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

And yet you still found yourself in his dorm, on his bed. It was supposed to be another study gathering, but one thing was glaringly missing. Y’know… the gathering. Kirishima was out training and he hadn’t bothered to invite the rest of his brain-dead, self-proclaimed squad. And that’s how you found yourself alone. With your best friend and secret crush. Just dandy.

Your hands were restless. Pulling at the seams of his blanket, cracking your own fingers, picking up your pencil for a brief moment of concentration, answering one or two questions only to drop it back on the mattress again and fidget some more. Katsuki wasn’t fucking blind, and your unease was ticking him off. Though he surprisingly hadn’t said a thing about it just yet, he was clearly nearing his wit’s end. His silence didn’t prevail for much longer, the meek sigh and not so subtle glance you chanced his way being his tipping point.

“What.” It came out as a statement, a demand rather than a question. What was he demanding? He hadn’t thought of that yet, his temperamental limbs already taking the wheel and pressing on the gas without a destination in mind, just being short fused for the sake of it. Was it even his place to be making demands in this situation? Katsuki knew the answer to this one like the back of his hand, a solid no.

“What…?” You really had no idea what Bakugo was expecting with a question like that. He still had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“The hell’s got you so jumpy?”

“It’s nothing…” It was a lot more than nothing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t lie to me, (name). What the fuck is up with you?” Ah, there it is again. That look. His words were as cut-throat as ever, and his mouth was still pulled into that seemingly permanent scowl. But his eyes conveyed something that was whole worlds asunder from his harsh tone. Golden brows furrowed as they usually were, though unusually upturned just the slightest bit. You despised that look. It ensured that you’ll forever be caught in his grasp, forever there for him when he never spared you the time of day.

Your lungs constricted by a force of gorgeously wretched agony. Katsuki wasn’t fair when he bared his soul to you like this, it filled you with such fervent euphoria that torrefied its way through your being, singeing your veins with luminous infatuation. And it hurt. Because you knew he’d cage himself right up as soon as the moment of vulnerability perished.

A crystalline sheen permeated your vision. This wasn’t going to end well.  

“I said it’s nothing,” Your voice raised. You hadn’t meant for the words to be as frosty as they came out, but it seemed like your subconscious was utterly done with the tedium of heartbreak he keeps putting you through.

“What is fucking wrong with you? I was literally just asking why you were being so goddamn obnoxious today and then you go and make a big fuckin’ deal out of nothing!”

“Well, maybe I’m just fucking tired of giving you everything I have and getting nothing in return, Katsuki!”

Your chest rose and fell with each scalding breath that entered your lungs. The blood through your veins was pumping. Never had you been confrontational, and your sudden outburst wasn’t exactly welcome to your system. You wanted to vomit. This was not how you wanted things to turn out, you absolutely needed to leave, distance yourself from the emotional strain he was inflicting on you.  

Without taking notice of the panicked glint in the cherry red of his irises, you bolted out of the suddenly claustrophobic room, leaving Katsuki to stare at his agape door before flickering his unfocused attention to your supplies still laying on his bed.

Katsuki erupted time and time again, with you being as patient as a receiving end could ever be. It’s specifically because of your godly patience that he never considered what he would do once you erupted.

With your back sliding down your dorm room door, and little friction stopping your descent, you wondered and maybe even wished he’d call after you, come banging on your door with bristling apologies on the tip of his tongue. However, the jarring reality was very clear to you. You’d decided on that day, with your head buried in your tear-stained pillow, that these were the last tears you’d ever shed on him, that you were going to put him through the same wringing hell he’d put you through.

You were going to ignore Bakugo Katsuki’s existence just like he’d periodically ignored yours.

The following week had been bleak at best and excruciatingly bitter at its worst for the both of you. It was so strange having to adjust to the absence of the other, even if your company more often than not had been a quiet one, it was company nevertheless. The most grueling part though, was your shared friend group. They’d noticed that something was obviously awry, but since neither of you said a thing about it, they decided it would be best if they didn’t either. The awkward dead silences during lunch were still purgatory to behold. But after a few more slow paced days, the sun seemed to shine bright again. For you, that is.

You didn’t realize how much of your schedule revolved around Bakugo until he was completely out of it. How much time you spent with him, dreading him, thinking about him… him, him, him. He’d consumed your thoughts from the first sparks of dawn till the hallows of dusk. You had so much free time now that he was out of the picture, it was crazy. The more time you spent on yourself, on your hobbies, getting to know other classmates outside of your immediate friend circle, the duller the ache in your chest. Until it was but a static buzz. Yet you couldn’t deny that, with time, your fury had mellowed out, leaving behind a cold loneliness you couldn’t elude whenever your aimless stare landed on him, almost like it was drawn to him by muscle memory.

He was the exact opposite.

You’d think the throbbing within him whenever you finally gazed his way then instantaneously looked in the opposite direction would knock come modicum of sense into his stubborn head. But nope. And seeing you thrive without him only cemented what he already knew. He really was no good for you. So much so that it barely took anytime for you to readjust to the lack of him in your life, and not only did you adjust, you were the best he’s ever seen you both mentally and academically. In the first week of you ditching him completely, his bruised ego kept him for reaching out to you, but now, seeing that elated grin on your face –the one that had been gradually dwindling over the past few months– he didn’t want to take your newfound happiness away, he’d figured he’d done you more than enough harm already.

Heart heavy with reluctance, Katsuki made the decision to give up on your relationship. Deciding to wordlessly cheer you on from the sidelines and watch you bloom, flourishing into the person he robbed you of being for a chunk of your life, though whenever your spring hit, it would be without him. Until some day in the future where his pride wasn’t as suffocating, where he could genuinely, wholeheartedly repent his grievances and only hope for your forgiveness.

Kirishima never took Bakugo for a quitter, hell would freeze over before he even thought such a thing. So this was certainly a shock. What was even more shocking ­– and overwhelmingly concerning– was the fact that Katsuki had willingly, on his own accord confided in him, and he’d, in his own roundabout way, taken accountability for being a gigantic douche to you. As much as the redhead respected his friend’s decision to stay clear of you, he couldn’t help but wish you’d just talk to one another for once. Kirishima really was a saint, having to listen to two idiots ramble about how much they miss the other.

“Listen, man. I know you feel bad and all that, but maybe you should just talk to her? I’m sure she’d like some closure on this just as you do, even if that doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.” Eijirou tried to reason, praying to whatever higher being out there that Katsuki would just get the fuck over himself and communicate with you.

“Fuck no. That’s not fucking happening, shitty hair,” Kirishima rolled his eyes at the oh so affectionate nickname, thoroughly done with his best friend’s melodrama. Welp, I guess there’s only one thing left to try. He heaved internally, mentally and physically preparing himself for Bakugo’s tantrum.

“Well, you know that if you won’t talk to her, others will, right? I heard some guys saying they’re gonna ask her ou–”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a rat’s ass who asks her out!” He definitely did. Eijirou hid his smile. Checkmate.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Later that day, three distinctly powerful knocks woke you up. Needless to say, you didn’t think that night would end up with you and Katsuki staring each other down, seated on your bed at one in the morning. Words got stuck in his throat, so he just… noiselessly watched your face, as if trying to telepathically ram his constipated emotions into you, in hopes that you’d make sense of them. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Did you come banging on my door at one in the morning just to stare at me, Bakugo? I mean I know I’m pretty but still–”

“Shuddup.” Not really the best thing to say to you after weeks of radio silence. You were about to make another salty remark, but he opened his mouth first.

“I fucked up,” The fact that he was acknowledging he was at fault was… something. But that wasn’t nearly enough to pay off the debt off turmoil he’d caused you.

“No shit.” You replied without missing a beat. The ice that tinged your words caught him off guard, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, knowing he’d have to strip himself of everything, including his pride (especially his pride) down to his very core, to have a go at a second chance.

And so, he did.

He poured his everything out for you to observe, without an ego film distorting his words. Syllables reeked of muted agony, he really had rid himself of anything and everything that wasn’t his deepest soul. He finally offered you himself just as you had done countless times before. Katsuki swore that his heart would –and always has been– explicitly yours, he’d roar that fact at the constellations above if you so wished him to. And while it would take a while to heal from coruscating blisters he’d inflicted, you were more than content mending and welting your heart with his.  

[jonkentt]

we could move in together

or Bucky suffering but make it crack****

Bucky drops onto the couch with a contented sigh. He stretches out, hands behind his head, smirking like he’s truly done something to be proud of. Sam’s coming over for dinner and finally, finally Bucky’s got a plan. They’ve been alternating these datenights dinners and whenever it’s Sam’s turn he cooks. Big batches of stuff he says he wants to make for Sara and the boys if it’s any good. Course, it’s always good. Bucky loves Sam’s cooking. He loves showing up much too early so he can watch Sam cook. Sam gets in fights with pots and pans, curses under his breath whenever he measures something wrong. You’d think everything he made would be a disaster but somehow, no matter how many times Sam swears that internet recipes are the bane of his existence, the food is delicious. Which makes Bucky feel like an asshole for ordering take-out on his turn every single time.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to cook for Sam. Boy, has he tried. But how can he tell if anything’s edible? Nothing compares to Sam’s cooking. So Bucky’ll make something, taste a spoonful, and decide it’s complete shit just in time for Sam to show up. There’s been a couple of close calls when Sam asked why his apartment smelled like pasta if they were eating deli sandwiches. (“It smells burnt in here, Buck.” “Ha! Yeah, I think my neighbor, uh, had some trouble.”) But tonight, Bucky has a plan. He found a recipe that was supposed to be “fool proof” and practiced making it yesterday. Sure it’s a mac-n-cheese casserole but there were several different cheeses in it so… that should count for something. He had a dish waiting to be put it in the oven when Sam arrived.

“I think we got this all tied up, don’t you Alpine?” Bucky says to the rabbit as she makes her way across the room to settle on his feet. Alpine’s favorite place to sit is on Bucky’s feet, which he thinks is adorable. He considers cuddling Alpine on his lap but Sam will be here any minute and he doesn’t need to be covered in bunny hair. Bucky as some class. The self-satisfied grin is still plastered to his face when Sam let’s himself into his apartment.

“Sam! You gotta explain this show to me! TV doesn’t make sense anymore.” His smile falters when he turns to see Sam crossing the room in long strides, some kind of burning intent clear on his face. “Uh—” Sam lands on the couch turned towards him. Bucky is keenly aware of the lack of personal space Sam has left between them. Sam’s knee is practically in his lap. Bucky sits there with his mouth half open, struck by the intensity of Sam’s stare. He doesn’t look angry, so that’s good at least. But what the fuck?

“Did you tell Sarah we were moving in together?”

Bucky blinks. “Wha—”

“At the cookout. Sarah just asked me if we’d found a place yet. What the hell? You can’t just tell my sister that we’re moving in together and not let me know!”

Bucky lets out a startled laugh. “The cookout? That was weeks ago! I’m sure she was just messing with you—”

“So you were joking?” Again, Bucky’s smile slides off his face. What is happening? Sam is not kidding right now. He might very actually be pissed off. But it was a joke? …wasn’t it?

“I…” Bucky trails off. So he’s been daydreaming about living with Sam. But that’s not what Bucky tells himself. He’s just picturing their dinners together at different times of day. Like in the mornings. Sam in pajamas is a quintessential element of these daydreams.

“Were you serious, Bucky? I’m trying to imagine that you wouldn’t just run your mouth off around my sister as a joke.” Sam is pinning him with this intense expression that Bucky can’t figure out and it’s taking all his self control not to squirm.

“I guess… it wasn’t.”

Sam keeps up the laser eyes till Bucky can practically feel two points boring through his skull. Finally, Sam sighs.

“Man…” Sam says, slowly shaking his head. He takes Bucky’s hand and holds it to his chest, just like they had outside Sarah’s house after Bucky confessed an overdue apology. But now, Bucky’s hand is literally against Sam’s chest and he can feel Sam’s heart beating. The thud, thud makes his stomach flip. Bucky stares at their hands. Sam is so close and that’s making him forget how to breathe. Maybe he should be looking somewhere else. Somewhere other than Sam’s hand gripping his. Listening to something other than Sam’s heartbeat. When Bucky meets Sam’s eyes again he regrets it instantly. This is 100x worse than before. This is tender.

“If you’re going to do this, you gotta be sure.” Sam’s voice is warm. His brown eyes are warm. His hand is warm. His chest is— you get the idea. Bucky’s brain still isn’t processing what the hell Sam is talking about. “Cause I won’t have you fuckin’ around with my heart.” Wait- what? “I don’t have the time or the mental space to deal with that. You understand?” Bucky would literally rather be in cryo right now. “Bucky.” The fuck does Sam expect him to say? If he starts moving his lips then words should form eventually.

“I wouldn’t do…” This is a struggle. Sam raises an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t do what?”

“Fuck around.” It comes out barely a whisper. Sam sighs and Bucky thinks he’s actually going to die.

“What are we talking about, Buck? How you wouldn’t lie to my sister? Or how—”

“Yeah! Sure! I don’t know!” Bucky has class. He swears to god he used to have class. “I wouldn’t lie to Sarah! Yeah, I do want to live with you. It’s kinda the only thing I think about. But I didn’t know how to tell YOU that!” There’s a grin spreading across Sam’s face and it’s making Bucky feel things. “And I wouldn’t fuck around with your heart! That’s literally the last thing I would ever do! Your heart is very important to me and I would…!” Whatever courage he had is disappearing fast. “…take care…” Dear god almighty does Sam have to do that with his face? “…of it.”

Sam is smiling like the actual sun. And Bucky is burning to a crisp under a magnifying glass.

Sam leans back with a satisfied “hrmph.” He drops Bucky’s hand and stands up. Bucky involuntarily leans into the empty space like Sam left some kind of gravitational pull. What the fuck just happened? Bucky looks at Alpine. The rabbit is sitting on her hind legs beside him, looking up at him curiously and twitching her nose.

“So what’s for dinner? Take-out again?” If it could reach, Bucky’s jaw would drop to the floor. Sam looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“That’s it?!!”

“What’s it? You forget to order a pizza or somethin?” Sam takes a few steps toward the kitchen and Bucky jumps off the couch.

“Sam. I hate you.”

“Wow. That hurts, Bucky. I thought my heart was important to you.”

“I—!” Bucky flails his arms around. Sam is grinning in that stupidly adorable irresistible way of his. The situation is hopeless. How is Bucky supposed to think when Sam is being this cute? And now he knows that Bucky wants to live with him? Disastrous. “I made you dinner!”

Sam looks surprised, maybe even a little touched. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” Bucky pushes past him on his way into the kitchen, overly aware of how their shoulders brush. Bucky pulls the casserole out of the fridge and transfers it to the pre-heated oven. Now that he’s not looking at Sam, the thought of meeting his gaze again makes Bucky feel queasy. Instead he decides to lean over the oven and stare at its digital clock. A perfect excuse to avoid those obnoxiously beautiful brown eyes for the next 20 minutes.

“What is it?”

“Casserole.”

Sam laughs. “You realize there’s like a million different kinds of casseroles, right?”

“Macaroni,” Bucky mumbles.

“Sounds promising. You’ve got beer somewhere?” Bucky mumbles some more because how can he admit now that he went searching for Sam’s favorite hard lemonade that’s annoyingly hard to get in New York? He hears Sam open the fridge. Too late. “Oh my god, you found this stuff here?!” The distinct crack of a can opening punctuates Sam’s excitement. “You’re the best, man.”

Bucky could say something snarky. Really, he should at least try. But his ears are burning and so is his face and goddammit why is this happening. Sam’s silent, clearly waiting for a comeback. Bucky starts to sweat. He hears Sam come up behind him. What is breathing? Surely it’s a non-essential function. Then Sam presses himself to Bucky’s back and wraps his perfect hunky arms around his waist. Bucky’s hearts skips at least five beats when he feels Sam’s warm breath on his ear.

“You just gonna stare at the clock then, huh?”

“Ye—“ Bucky clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Mmm, okay,” Sam hums and rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder, obviously with no intention of showing mercy.

“What are you doing?” Bucky’s voice is much higher than he cares to admit.

“Staring with you.” Bucky swallows. He can’t do this for another 18 minutes. “You gonna cook for me when we live together?”

WHAT. Bucky’s brain is hot and spinning like a clothes dryer but it’s his thoughts that are tumbling. Yeah, he’s definitely sweating a lot now. Bucky ducks his head, not realizing that would be a terrible idea. Sam drops a kiss on the exposed back of his neck. So this is it then. This is how it ends. Bucky is going to pass out or die or both.

“How much longer can you hold your breath before it becomes a problem?” God, Sam is such a smug asshole. “I don’t wanna scrape you off the kitchen floor before dinner.”

Bucky tries to inhale slowly, but it’s shaky- of fucking course it is. “I really hate you,” is all he can manage to whisper.

“Ya know, that’s funny,” Sam purrs. Literally purrs because he clearly wants Bucky to suffer. “Cause I could swear that you actually have a huge, embarrassing, all-consuming crush on me.”

Fuck right off, Sam Wilson, you perfect fucking prick, is what Bucky thinks. But somehow, unforgivably, what he says is, “You have really beautiful eyes, Sam.”

That startles a laugh out of Sam. “Why thank you, Bucky! But it’s kinda hard to believe you really mean that from the way you’re so adamantly not looking at me.”

“You know I mean it. Always accusing me of having a staring problem.”

“Still… you could convince me.” Sam’s tone is a challenge. Fuck this.

“Sam, if I look at you, I’ll either die or have to kiss you.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Sam chuckles. “You can kiss me, but dying right now would be inconvenient.”

That’s it! Bucky turns on him. “Inconvenient? In- fucking -convenient?!”

“Well, yeah, you didn’t say how long the casserole should be in the oven for.”

“Get out of my apartment!”

“Make me!”

Bucky grabs Sam’s face in both hands and kisses him hungrily. Fuck mac-n-cheese. He’s having Sam for dinner.

[onebatch2batch]

24 or 43 for kastle from the 50 prompts thingy??

43. “Are you drunk?” [ao3]

I got a little carried away....not sorry. Thank you for the prompt!!

--

The sun has long since set by the time Karen manages to shoulder her way into her apartment building, annoyed. It’s been a long and difficult week, and she had been so excited to get home to her pajamas, wine, and fuzzy socks. In fact she’d been almost out of her office before realizing that her cabinets at home are completely empty. She’s been so busy at work that grocery shopping has been on the back burner, and she knew that if she’d just gone straight home after work she would have ordered in food all weekend. Her budget would never allow for that--and so she’d stopped at the little bodega on the way home and bought what she needed. All in all it had amounted to about four bags and a bottle of wine tucked safely away in her purse. She’d walked the five blocks home with aching hands and aching feet, dreaming of her quiet apartment. Maybe I’ll take a bath, she thinks as she shoots the broken elevator a sour look, or maybe I’ll just lay in bed and watch Netflix. Or try to work through one of my cold cases. Or read. Oh, maybe I’ll read in the bath.

She does none of those things. Karen reaches her floor, turns the corner, and her heart stutters.

There’s someone at her door. He’s got his back to her, so she can’t make out much, but he’s in dark clothes and his hood is up. He’s got his forehead pressed to her door. Part of her hopes he’s just drunk and thinks he’s somewhere else. The more logical part says that she definitely recognizes those combat boots even from behind.

“Frank?”

He jerks, then turns to give her a wide, loose smile. “Hey, Kar’n.”

She stares. Blinks. Stares some more. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh.” He shifts, nearly trips on a frayed part of the hallway carpet, catches himself last minute. “Can we talk inside?”

There goes my quiet evening.

As happy as she is to see Frank Castle alive and well, she knows not to expect more than a friendly social call. Karen passes him a handful of groceries and digs out her keys, letting them both into her warm apartment. Frank slides the lock in place behind her as she moves towards the kitchen, kicking off her heels with an embarrassingly happy groan. “Is this a coffee conversation, or something strong?” she asks over her shoulder.

Frank carefully maneuvers the handful of bags onto her counter and focuses on removing everything for her to put away. “You worried ‘bout me bein’ here?”

That’s a loaded question. She raises a brow. “Frank, you never visit recreationally. What’s going on? Are you on the run again? Need some info on someone?” If they have to have this conversation, she’d rather get the niceties out of the way and get back to her weekend.

“Nope. None of that.”  He smiles again, nearly drops an apple, and then something clicks.

“Wait a minute,” she gasps, amazed. “Are you drunk?”

His answering grin is enough. Karen laughs incredulously, some of the tension knotted in her spine loosening. As soon as she’d seen him she had assumed that he needed something, or needed her help. Not that he was paying a visit on the way home from a bar.

“I didn’t even think you drank,” she huffs, amused. She quickly puts away her groceries and then pours a glass of wine for herself.

“I don’t usually,” he admits, leaning against the counter. Now that she knows what she’s looking for, there’s a warm flush on his cheeks and a looseness to his limbs that’s different from his normal, tense posture. “It’s Curt’s birthday, we had a couple after group.”

She’s glad to hear he’s still going to that group. They settle on the couch and exchange small talk about how it’s going and how Curtis is until curiosity gets the better of her. “So why are you actually here, Frank?”

He looks caught. She’s interested to see that his usually expressive face is much more so when inebriated. Every flicker of his eye and clench of his jaw gives away what he’s thinking. It’s like reading a book on how dodgy a vigilante can look. “Well, I wanted to see you.”

It's such a line, and coming from anyone form him she would have rolled her eyes. As it stands, the idea of The Punisher making a booty call because he’s had a bit too much to drink makes her laugh. She catches the hurt look on his face before he can hide it.

“What?”

“Oh no, Frank, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I’m glad you’re here.” She reaches over to squeeze his arm reassuringly, which seems to mollify him slightly.

“What’s funny, then?”

“Just the thought of The Punisher making a booty call.” Karen laughs again, unable to help herself. Frank is the most intense person she’s ever met, and she would certainly know if that was his plan. She doesn’t think he would be able to hide it if it were. She looks at him, inviting him to share in the hilarity of the idea, but he’s not laughing. Not even a little. In fact, his face flashes red and he clears his throat, looking away.

“Hang on,” Karen says slowly, laugh dying in her throat. “Is that what this is?”

“No,” Frank says quickly. “No, of course not.”

He’s lying. It’s the first time he’s ever lied to her. Karen’s mouth drops open. She stares at him, waiting for him to crack a smile or announce that he’s messing with her, but he just stares out the window and clenches his jaw. When she realizes he’s not planning on explaining, she takes two large gulps of wine and sets down her glass.

“Really? Because it kind of seems like I hit the nail on the head there.”

He’s already shaking his head emphatically. “No, Karen, Christ, I just, I--I wanted to see you, that’s all--”

This could go so many different ways, she’s not sure which option to explore first. She could let him off the hook and feign ignorance, maybe talk for another hour and then send him on his way. Or she could demand he tell her what he wants. Or she could mercilessly tease him--who can say they’re able to tease The Punisher and get away with it? And anyways, he’s gotten her into plenty of life-threatening situations (even if he usually saves her from them later) so joking around to get back at him is too good to pass up.

“Is there something off putting about me, then?” She raises a brow, having only a hair too much fun. “Because now you’re being a little too defensive for my tastes.”

“Oh Jesus, Karen--”

She shrugs. “I’m just saying, we’re both single and know each other and if that’s what this is, then you just have to say it--”

He’s starting to look panicked. “No it’s--”

“Come on, Frank, just admit it. You came here for a booty call--”

“Hey, no--”

“Because you’re drunk and have some excess energy--”

“It’s not because I’m drunk.”

The game is over. Frank is looking at her with a particularly focused expression that steals the air from her lungs. He leans forward, in her space, stopping just short of her lips. “If you think,” he rasps, and now it’s Karen’s turn to flush at his proximity, “for a second that I would come here just to sleep with you like it’s not something I’ve thought about constantly for two years, like I would just ruin this for one night--along with you and your fucking stubbornness and your smile and how you look in those fucking--...skirts--...” he takes a deep breath in, closes his eyes briefly, and then snaps them open to give her a loaded look, “--then you’re fuckin’ crazy, Karen.”

And then he sits back, and looks away.

She’s sure she looks like a complete idiot, but Karen can’t wipe the shock off her face. After a few moments where it feels like her heart literally stops beating, it reanimates with a pounding she can feel between her legs. Her throat is suddenly too dry, and she swallows hard. Her mind races to get them back on solid footing, but her mouth has other ideas. “So you’ve thought about us having sex?” is the first astonished thing to escape her lips.

“No,” Frank sighs patiently, but like she’s deliberately being obtuse. It’s such a funny, cute little sound that she’s never heard from him before, and it’s doing nothing for the desire that’s coursing through her. “I think about us in every way. Having sex, sure. But watchin’ tv together. Gettin’ a dog. Goin’ grocery shopping. Shit, just gettin’ up and having coffee in the morning. Just...I just think about us.”

It’s such a momentous confession that Karen feels inadequate to handle. Ever since she pleaded with him in the hospital, begging for him to leave the fight behind for her, she has filed away her feelings. After such a staunch dismissal of her feelings, she was sure he wasn’t interested in her other than as an informant and maybe, just sometimes, a friend. Now with his (albeit drunk)  confession, she knows otherwise. She still doesn’t know what self-sacrificing, self-deprecating bullshit caused him to turn her down before, but that’s a discussion for another time. Right now, she wants to drag him towards her and kiss him senseless. She wants to smack him for waiting so long to say something. She wants to cry with relief. She wants to make him feel validated and loved. She wants to prove to the world that Frank Castle is a good man who has been dealt a shitty hand, even if she has to scream it from theEmpire State Building. “Frank,” she chokes out, “you should have said.”

He tenses, looking at her wearily. “Am I too late?”

She doesn’t answer with words. She’s too busy closing the gap between him and burying her face in his neck. He smells familiar, like sandalwood and vanilla, reminding her of a different day in her apartment. She’d hugged him for much longer than appropriate and he hadn’t pulled away. She thought maybe it had been a sorry and thank you all at once. And then he’d left again, and it had nearly broken her in two. “Never,” she vows into his skin, painting a promise with her lips.

She hears his ragged exhale, and then he’s drawing her up towards him. His kiss is soft, just a brush of lips against hers before he presses another to her cheek, her forehead, her chin. When he returns once more to capture her lips, Karen lets her hands wander the wide expanse of his chest, lets herself revel in the firmness of his body against her. Touching him like this is such a foreign feeling, but like she’s finally found the missing piece to a long started puzzle. His hands are just as eager, running along her spine and then resting on her hips before his strong fingers sink into her hair, the others pressing firmly on her lower back so that he can grind up against her. Karen gasps and Frank takes advantage of her parted lips, deepening the kiss, his tongue curling against her teeth. As Karen loses herself in the feeling of his heat and hands and kisses, she daydreams about what could happen next. She could slide off his lap to kneel between his legs. She could take the very strong evidence of his arousal and pepper it with kisses until he begs her to take him in her mouth. She could get him just close enough, and then crawl up the hard line of his body to take him in every way possible. She could make him believe that he’s been worth waiting for.

Instead, she pushed lightly on his chest until he pulls away with what she can only call a pout. He looks the definition of dishevelled with his soft curls askew and pupils blown wide. Her chest heaves, and she bites back a small noise of disappointment when his hips cease their wonderful friction against hers. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re drunk,” she reminds him unsteadily.  

Frank lets his head fall back against the couch. His hands tighten on her waist briefly, reminding her of their precarious position--as if she could forget. She hasn’t been so turned on in eons. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “I know.”

“We should stop.”

His head lifts, eyes meeting hers, hopeful. “For now?”

Karen smiles, allowing one more brief kiss. It takes every bit of self-control in her to keep it chaste. “Until you’re sober. Then we’ll talk. But we can check one thing off your list, if you like.”

His mind struggles to switch gears. “Which one?”

Karen kisses his nose before clamoring off the couch (and his lap) on wobbly legs. “I’m going to preset the coffee machine for the morning. Now, which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

When he gives her a tentative, wonderful, bashful smile, Karen has to force herself to walk into the kitchen. Frank Castle has never been so dangerous as he is now, she thinks, sitting on that couch with mussed hair and swollen lips. Every instinct begs for her to return to his lap and continue what they started, but she measures the coffee out and stays strong. They can finish tomorrow, but they have things to talk about.

Over coffee. She smiles and sets the timer.

[yikesharringrove]

Steve is always excited when Billy uses his nicknames as "princess, handsome boy, king" or calls him "mine" and Billy finds out.

So anything Leslie calls Ann in Parks and Rec, I can 100% imagine Billy calling Steve. You are a beautiful, talented, brilliant, powerful musk ox.

Billy is a nicknamin’ kinda guy. Always has been.

Sometimes he can’t remember people’s names, so he sticks with somethin’ tried and true. Call a girl Doll or Sweet Heart, and she’s putty in your hands. Any guy will respond just fine to man or dude, any of that stupid shit.

Steve loves nicknames. It’s hard to make anything outta Steve, sometimes Tommy would call him Stevie, but that was usually when he wanted to mock him. Steve’s own parents were fans of the full name, either Steven or sometimes first and middle name, always said coldly, like he was an ugly lamp in the sitting room, not their child.

So when Steve first begins hanging out with Billy, Billy is always callin’ something new. Stevie is a classic, but Pretty Boy comes just as often. Steve preen every time something other than Steve comes outta that mouth.

Billy doesn’t notice, just keeps truckin’ along, throwing in Princess every now and then. He was in a silly mood when Mac n’ Steve first happened, and he was in love with the way Steve giggled for several minutes, whispering Mac n’ Steve to himself.

Once they started dating, the nicknames changed a little. It was my Pretty Boy, my Stevie, my Sweet Thing. Billy didn’t even notice the switch, it just came naturally to him.

Steve on the other hand noticed. Every time Billy called him his, his stomach would jolt, his cock would twitch, and his mind would go blank, in that order.

The first time they had sex, Billy was cooing and purring in Steve’s ear the whole time, telling him he was such a good little slut, and Princess, you feel so good for me. Steve was a mess, the mindblowing sex mixed with Billy’s dirty talk mixed with the fucking nicknames? Steve blew his load embarrassingly fast. 

Billy had begun to clue in. Took note of the way Steve’s breath would hitch, his back would arch, when he leaned over him and muttered, you’re all mine, Pretty Boy. Notice how even in Steve’s sleep, he would sigh and turn into putty if Billy whispered my perfect little Princess.

So he went ham. He hadn’t said Steve outside of a further nickname in months. Used everything he could think of, silly ones, sexy ones, sweet ones, ones he usually reserved for girls, ones he had heard in bad pornos, anything he could think of.

Steve melted every time there was something new, every time Billy brushed past him to say looking good, Doll or even when he said stupid shit like how you doin’, my precious little beach ball.

He finally asks Steve about it one night, when they’re trying to untangle themselves from the ruined sheets.

“What’s with you and nicknames?” Steve went red, embarrassed and Billy realized he probably could have worded it better. “I just mean,” he hurried, not wanting Steve to curl in on himself, insecure. “I like callin’ you nicknames, but you always get real responsive when I do it, even the bad ones.” He was, of course, referring to not even five minutes ago when he said you wanna be my good little bitch? and Steve had cum with a scream.

“I just, I like it.” He shrugged, face still flushed. “Make me feel like I’m important to you. ‘Specially when you call me, yours.” Billy scooted Steve in close, his pretty back to Billy’s front.

“Good. ‘Cause you are mine.” Steve sighed. “And you are important to me. Really fuckin’ important, Pretty Boy.”

“My parents just, they never called me anything but my full name, so when you say other stuff, I guess I just,” He shrugged, trailing off. Billy had one hand on his tummy, squeezed it a little bit.

“Keep talkin’, Silkworm.”

“Well, I just, I don’t even know. You literally just called me a fucking silkworm, probably just the first animal that came to your brain, and I have literally never felt more loved.”

“Good.”

“‘Do you mean, ‘good’.”

“I’m glad you feel loved. I mean, that’s why I do it. Because I love you.” They hadn’t said it before, always dancing around the words. The last time Steve had said them, heard them, it wasn’t real. The last time Billy said them, heard them, his mother had left anyway, so they hadn’t said it. Until Billy. Until Billy just said it.

Steve turned around in his arms, wanting to see what his face looked like.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Dungeness Crab.” Steve laughed, loud and joyful.

“I love you, Bill. I love you so much.” he buried his face into Billy’s neck, giggling Dungeness Crab into the skin.

[petersasteria]

Marriage? Pass. - Peter Parker

Pairing: Financial advisor!Peter x Museum curator!Reader

Requested? Nah.

PP Masterlist

* * * *

"Good morning, Pete." You yawned before slowly sitting up. You glanced at your boyfriend as he just hummed in reply. He wasn't a morning person, but he had a demanding job that he's going to be late to if he doesn't wake up now.

You give Peter a light nudge and told him to wake up or he'll be late if he didn't start his morning routine now. Peter grumbled and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a few times as he adjusted to the light and sat up. He turned to you and kissed your cheek.

"Good morning. Thanks for waking me up." He smiled sleepily at you with his messy bed hair all over the place. You giggled, "You're welcome. Go shower and I'll make breakfast."

"I know, I know." Peter smiled and got out of bed to go to the shower. You got out of bed too and stretched before starting your morning routine. You've been doing it for as long as you can remember. At this point, your movements are all muscle memory.

Your routine went like this: while Peter is in the shower, you fix your shared bed and charge his phone because he always forgets. Then, you take both of your empty glasses from your night stands and head to the kitchen. When you get to the kitchen, you put the glasses in the sink and prepare breakfast.

Breakfast was a little tricky because Peter didn't like having the same food everyday. Same goes for lunch and dinner. Thankfully, you already knew this and you made a schedule for every meal. Every night before you went to bed, you write down options for Peter and he would choose the next day. The schedule was written on a 6.5" chalkboard and it's placed on top of the kitchen island.

You grabbed the chalkboard and quickly went to the bathroom and knocked. You knew Peter wouldn't hear you, so you shouted.

"Pete? What do you want for breakfast? Egg and bacon sandwich with coffee, a bowl of cereal, pancakes with orange juice or waffles with hot chocolate?" You asked loudly.

"Can I have waffles, but with bacon on the side? Also, I want coffee with that. Not hot chocolate. Thanks, honey!" Peter shouted back as you quickly wrote it down on the chalkboard.

"Gotcha. Love you!"

"Love you too!"

You smiled to yourself and went back to the kitchen to start cooking Peter's request. What he has, you also have. You didn't mind that Peter mixed up the breakfast choices. In fact, his taste buds are pretty helpful in grocery shopping. If he doesn't like it, you don't buy it anymore. It's pretty simple.

After cooking breakfast and setting the table, you prepared Peter's lunch. Since it was a weekday and both of you had jobs, all you had to prepare for Peter's lunch was the dessert which was cut up fruits in a small tupperware. You cut up a few fruits, put them in a tupperware, and put them in the fridge.

Just as you finished, Peter walked in and sat down. You sat across from him and both of you began eating. Peter didn't like talking while eating breakfast and you learned that the hard way. To fill in the silence, you connected your phone to a bluetooth speaker and played classical music which always relaxed Peter.

He looked at you and gave you a close-lipped smile. After all these years of being together, you knew his smile meant 'thank you'.

After breakfast, it was Peter's turn to do his part. He washed the dishes as you quickly went to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Peter knew you took your time in the bathroom that's why both of you wake up really early in the morning so both of you wouldn't be late.

After washing the dishes, Peter prepared your dessert for lunch. You didn't like fruits that much and you were allergic to a few of them, so Peter packed you chocolate pudding instead. After packing your dessert, Peter wiped the table clean, disconnected your phone from the bluetooth speaker, and went to your shared room to charge it.

After showering, you were still in a towel and you opened the bathroom door slightly for Peter to come in. Both of you brushed your teeth together and got dressed together. It was all fun and domestic and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

When both of you are finished dressing up, you both unplug your phones and go to the kitchen to get the desserts you packed before going to the living room to get your bags and put your shoes on. After that, both of you share a kiss before getting in your respective cars and driving to work.

That was your routine everyday for seven years. You met Peter in college. You just turned twenty and your friends took you to a nice restaurant that you've always wanted to go to. Peter was there with his aunt and his aunt's boyfriend when he saw you. With all the courage he gathered, he walked to your table and asked you out. The rest was history.

"Good morning, Y/N!" Becca, your colleague, said with a playful smile on her face. You chuckled and said, "Good morning! What's got you so smiley and happy today?"

You signed in and put your things on your desk and sat down. Becca stood in front of your desk and grabbed a pen. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow your pen." Becca giggled and raised her left hand where the pen was.

You looked at the pen she was holding and did a double-take when you saw a pretty engagement ring on her finger.

"Oh my god." You said in shock. You stood up from your seat and grabbed her left hand. "Oh my god." You repeated.

"I know!" Becca shrieked. "I'm engaged!"

"You're engaged!" You squealed. "Yay! I'm so happy for you!" You pulled her in for a hug before looking at the ring again. It was so gorgeous.

"He proposed last night." Becca gushed. "I honestly still can't believe it."

"That's so amazing. I'm happy for both of you!" You exclaimed and sat down again. Becca took a seat in front of your desk and asked, "What about you and Peter? I thought you guys would get engaged first, to be honest. You've been together for so long. Meanwhile, Heath and I have been dating for only three years. You guys getting married soon?"

You knew it was an innocent question, but it was a touchy topic for you. It wasn't that you didn't want to get married. You did; you truly wanted to marry Peter and you were ready. You've been ready five years ago.

Peter was the problem. He didn't want to get married. He told you that one morning on your fourth anniversary when you both saw someone propose in public.

"Hey, Pete?"

"Hmm?"

"You ever thought of getting married?" You asked softly as both of you walked hand in hand in Central Park.

He looked at you for a second before looking ahead. He shrugged and said, "I'm not really into the whole marriage thing, y'know? Besides, why do people have to make such a big gesture to show people that they're going to be with one person for the rest of their life? Like, I'm really happy with what you and I have and I can see us lasting for a long time and we're official for four years now and we will be official for as long as we're together. So, why do we have to make things official again, but with a piece of paper this time?"

"Marriage has a lot of shit, babe. Trust me. There's a pre-nup thing and planning so many things that wouldn't matter in the end because who the fuck cares about centerpieces, anyway? It's literally a thing for each table with the table number on it. It'll just be looked at for, like, a second and then it wouldn't be paid attention to anymore. Plus, weddings are hella expensive. The national average cost of a wedding dress is about one thousand and six hundred something dollars and that includes alterations already. BUT- dress prices are based on a lot of factors and they generally range from five hundred dollars to four thousand dollars. And that's JUST the gown for the bride. What more if they add the venue, the decorations, the dresses for the bridesmaids, the tuxes for the dudes, the fuckin' flowers, and a whole lot of other shit?" Peter rambled.

You nodded. He made a few valid points, but to you, marriage is the life goal.

"Why'd you ask? You planning on marrying me?" Peter joked.

You smiled a bit and shook your head, "I just wanted to ask because someone proposed a while ago."

"Phew! I thought you were going to ask." Peter laughed. He put his arm around you and kissed the top of your head, "I'm happy with what we are now and I love you. I don't need to show other people that."

"I love you too, Pete." You said quietly.

You looked at Becca and said, "Me and Peter? Getting married? Um, no. I don't- I don't think so."

"What? Why not?" Becca furrowed her eyebrows. "Both of you have been together for so long! You guys should seal the deal now."

"Marriage isn't really Peter's thing." You explained.

"Is it your thing?" Becca asked and you sighed and nodded. "Then, tell him!"

"No way, Becca. He's just going to say the same shit he told me on our fourth anniversary." You said and fixed the papers on your desk.

"Maybe he changed his mind?" Becca suggested.

"Nope. I've known Peter for so long and one thing about him is that he never changes his mind, EVER. Once he says something, he just does it. His motto in life is literally 'practice what you preach'. Hence, not changing his mind." You let out an exasperated sigh.

"Look, Becca, I appreciate your concern and all, but it's not happening." You smiled sadly. "Don't worry about me and Peter, okay? Just worry about planning your wedding because that'll take up majority of your time."

For the rest of the day, you couldn't focus on curating at all. In fact, you nearly messed up some words. In truth, you haven't thought about marriage since your fourth anniversary and now that Becca's mentioned it, you couldn't get it out of your head.

It wasn't wise to contact Peter during his work hours because he dealt with clients who didn't know what to do with their money and stuff. He also didn't want to be bothered while he was at work. Besides, it gave you both something to talk about at dinner.

When you got home, you did your night routine. You went to your room and got dressed in comfortable clothing. Knowing Peter was on his way home, you took out your phone and called him.

"Hey, honey." Peter answered. "I'm glad you called! Listen, don't cook anything. Relax and watch tv or something. I bought dinner for us from the restaurant where we met."

"What? That's so out of budget, Peter. We only eat there once a year and that's for our anniversary." You said in worry.

"Yeah, I know, but we really shouldn't worry about spending. I'm literally a financial advisor." Peter chuckled. "Also, I just got a raise."

"Wow!" You smiled. "Tell me all about it when you get home, alright? I don't want you getting in a car accident or something."

"Will do. See ya later!" Peter hang up. You looked down at your phone and sighed. You took Peter's advice and relaxed while waiting for him. You drew yourself a bath and got in. About thirty minutes later, you heard the front door open and Peter shouted, "I'm home! I brought food!"

You got out of the bath and drained the water in the tub. You dried yourself and put on your bathrobe before meeting Peter in the kitchen. He was setting the table and he smiled at you, "Hey beautiful."

"Hey handsome." You chuckled. "Thanks for buying dinner. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome! It's no problem, really. It's a thank you for dealing with my shit and for cooking for me all the time. God knows I can't cook, so hopefully surprising you with food from the restaurant where we met is enough to make you happy." Peter said and walked up to you to pull you in for a hug.

You hugged back, "I do those things because I love you, Pete."

"I love you more." He kissed your forehead and urged you to sit down. Both of you sat down and Peter started talking about his raise and his client who didn't know what an insurance was. Everything was going swell, but you couldn't get the marriage thing off your mind.

"Becca's getting married." You blurted out. Peter stopped talking and looked at you. "She, uh, Heath asked her last night and she said yes."

Peter nodded and smiled, "Good for her! They've been together for so long now."

"Do you think we'd get married too?" You asked him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you think we'd get married too?" You repeated. "We've been together for seven years now and I think it's time for us to get married and start a family. We're not getting any younger, Pete. We're 27 years old for fuck's sake."

"Y/N, you know where I stand in marriage, right?" Peter said. "I'm not into that kind of shit. I thought we were on the same page?"

"No and I'm sorry!" You sighed. "I want to get married and I want to get married to you. Otherwise, I won't get married at all. I want us to move out of this apartment and buy a house where our kids can run around and play."

"Then let's start a family!" Peter exclaimed.

"I want to do it right, Peter!" You argued. "I want us to get married first and then have as many kids as you fucking want. But first, I want to walk down the aisle and say my vows to you. I want that, Peter."

Peter looked at you and sighed, "Then maybe I'm not the guy that you're looking for. We obviously want different things and I can't give you what you want."

"Are you breaking up with me?" You asked in shock.

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I am. I can't be a husband and you deserve someone who can be. I'm sorry." With that, he stood up from his seat and went to your shared room to pack his things in a duffel bag. You stayed in the dining table with your head in your hands. You really didn't expect him to break up with you.

Peter walked out of your shared room and approached you. You looked at him and he bent down a bit to kiss you one last time before he left.

"I'm sorry things had to end this way." He mumbled. "I love you and I'll always love you for as long as I'll live. But I also want you to be happy and if getting married makes you happy, I'm willing to let you go just for that to happen."

"But I want to get married to YOU." You cried.

"In another life, I want to get married and I want to get married to you. But this is the life we have, okay? I'm still going to be here for you. So if you need me, I'll be staying at May's, alright?" He said sadly and kissed your forehead before leaving.

It had been three months since your split with Peter and everything has been going downhill for you. Becca was so into wedding planning and she kept asking you for help. As if things were not worse for you, your younger sister recently got engaged too. Some of your Facebook friends were either on their honeymoon, having their first baby, or walking down the aisle already. It frustrated you BIG TIME.

To top it all off, your mom (who wasn't in the picture since forever) came back because she heard that your little sister was getting married and your dad had a heart attack. Thankfully, he was okay. He's just resting now.

You were at your childhood home and you were having a stressful time. You were taking care of your dad and no one was helping you around. Your little sister was busy planning her wedding and her husband-to-be was a slacker and he doesn't clean up after himself at all. Your mom was staying in the guest room and she was so demanding and she was such a picky eater and she nagged to you about how you should settle down now. You were so stressed and you were on the verge of a breakdown and all of a sudden, the A/C stopped working.

That set you off.

You locked yourself in your old room and just cried. You cried until you fell asleep. When you woke up, it was already the next day and you heard commotion downstairs. You walked to where the noise was coming from and it was coming from the living room; where the A/C was broken.

You peeked in and you were surprised to see Peter fixing the A/C. Your mom saw you and said, "Y/N! Good morning, sweetie. This is Peter. He fixed the A/C and guess what? He's single! Maybe-"

"Mom, Y/N knows who he is." Your sister rolled her eyes.

Peter held on to the ladder and looked at you. He saw your puffy eyes that were still slightly red and he saw bags under your eyes. He also knew that you were really tired.

"Really? How do they know each other?" Your mom gushed.

"They dated for 7 years. Let's just leave them alone. They need to talk, anyway." Your little sister said and gave you a small smile. She and your mom left the living room and Peter got down the ladder and walked to you.

"I'm, uh, sorry for coming here. You probably didn't want to see me, but Y/S/N gave me a call about the A/C. She asked if I could fix it because I was into, and I quote, 'machines or whatever'. So I came by and I really didn't expect you to be here." Peter said, but you just stared at him.

He cleared his throat, "Also, all the dishes were just left in the sink. I washed them all, though. I hope it's less work for you. The A/C's fixed now, by the way. If it breaks again, I suggest you just buy a new one. There's this brand that-"

You cut him off by giving him a big hug and you just cried. You were so tired and Peter hugged back tightly and said, "You're alright. You'll be fine."

"I missed you." You cried. "I missed you being by my side and the apartment feel so empty now that you're gone. I just want you back. Life was super easy with you in it."

"But-"

You pulled away and shook your head, "I don't care anymore. If you don't want to get married, I respect that. Let's just be partners for life, okay? I'll be fine with that just as long as I have you in my life; that's good enough for me."

"Okay." Peter nodded and smiled.

"Okay?" You asked.

"Okay." He chuckled lightly. "I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled and wiped your tears.

Peter's job was tiring. A few weeks after he had gotten back together with you, he was getting busier and busier. Today, his client asked him if they still had savings from when they got married. Peter was looking through the said client's files as the client kept talking.

"Why'd you get married?" Peter asked nonchalantly.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't want to get married." The client chuckled. "But life is funny. I met someone and for some reason, everything changed. Sure, we could've stayed as just long time partners, but being married takes it to a whole 'nother level, y'know?"

"In marriage, couples share things and they start a new chapter in their lives. Whereas if you're just living with your partner in an apartment, that's just it. It's hard to explain. It's similar to long time partners, but at the same time it's not." The client shrugged.

It was then and there that Peter understood marriage. He looked at the client and said, "I'll call you when I find your files, okay? I just remembered that I have to do something."

Peter got out of his seat and told the receptionist that was taking an early lunch break. He walked to his car and quickly unlocked the door and drove to the art museum where you worked.

When he got there, he parked his car and locked the door before running inside. He looked around and saw you curating a tour for grade school kids. He didn't want to bother you at work, but this was really urgent. So, he took a deep breath and walked right up to you.

"Y/N!" Peter said. You looked at him in shock. You turned to the kids and smiled, "Feel free to look at the painting, but don't touch anything."

You turned back to Peter and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I change my mind." Peter blurted out.

"What're you talking about?" You were confused.

"The whole marriage thing. I change my mind." He said. "Yes, marriage has a lot of shit, but I'll have you for the rest of my life and that's so rewarding. We can get married, buy a house, start a family, you name it! We've been together for 7 years- I'm not counting the three-month break up because I know that I still loved you during that time. I love you more than anything in the world and I want to show you that I love you for the rest of my life. So-"

He knelt down and your eyes widened.

"Oh my god. What're you doing?" You whispered.

"I think I'm proposing." Peter said quietly and he grabbed your hands. "Y/N, will you marry me? I know I don't have a ring right now, but that can wait. I-"

"Yes." You tear up. "Yes, I will marry you!"

Peter smiled and stood up to kiss you. Everyone around you clapped and you both pulled away. You rested your forehead on his and he said, "I have to go now. I have to get back to work and I have to buy you a ring."

"I love you, Peter."

"I love you, Y/N."

* * * *

im back lmao sorry if it's shit

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag​ @harryismysunflower​​ @buckys-little-hoe​​ @sandystoriess​ @heeeyitskay​​ @slytherin-chaser​​ @quaksonhehe​​ @yaya4302​​ @lil-mellow-bunbun​​ @starlight-starks​​ @swiftmind​​ @alexx-stancati​​ @sovereignparker​​ @nerdyandproudofitsstuff​​ @pearce14​​ @xfirstfemale-marauderx​​ @cherthegoddess​​ @chewymoustachio​​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​​ @parkerlovebot​​ @supred12​​

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:  @marvelousell​​​​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​​​​ @rubberducky-jrr​​​ @allyz​ @osterfieldnholland​​​​ @miraclesoflove​​​ @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​​ @perspectiveparker​​ @hollands-weasley​​ @itstaskeen​​  @call-me-baby-gir1​​ @the-panwitch​​ @iamaunicorn4704​​ @chloecreatesfictions​​ @holland-styles​​ @halfblood-princess-505​​ @spidey-reids-2003​​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual​​ @justanothermarvelmaniac​​ @unsaidholland​​ @musicalkeys​​ @lost-in-the-stars03​​ @hufflepuffprincess24​​ @hollanddolanfangirl​​ @parkerpeter24​​ @bellelittleoff​​ @agentnataliahofferson​​ @aqiise​

[mrskurono]

ANON: AYO its the high megumi anon here, another lil idea ? oh yeah baby.

oh yeah

i love thinking about his oral fixation like u mentioned before. boy has to always have his mouth on something its not even funny. ur too tired to move, so ur about to maybe try n sleep for just a few minutes(stamina is great but no cap u deserve a break for all the hard work ;) ) and megumi’s still a noodle-y leech, cant get away from u(he doesnt wanna+cant control himself enough to actually move away) and so when u turn on ur side to have a lil power nap or some shit(ur not afraid of him losing his high hes been kinda forcefed like four brownies at this point), he kinda rolls to u and i feel like hed be so grabby at ur ass and suck on the skin between ur shoulders until theres a Fat Fucking hickey right there, its so wet his drools dripping across ur shoulderblade and onto the sheet no fuckin cap. he doesnt know ur sleeping, he thinks ur ignoring him and with this i feel like he might be more pouty than loud tbh. hence the fat kisses on ur back; he wants to “subtly” get ur attention ;) if u manage to doze off, ur woken up anyway to him resorting back to rutting on u, except this time he goes from little soft n sloppy grinding and clasping/unclasping his hand on ur side(hes just laying on his other hand), to slowing down and eventually dozing off himself—both of these things alternating every minute or so of course. all while opening and closing his mouth-his attempted “kissing”- on ur back, up ur neck into ur hair

i would like 2 take the time to say i am jus absolutely loving this rabbithole weve created together :,) this whole concept has had me wet for days. literal days bro

*unhinges my jaw like a baby bird ready to fucking eat this god damn meal you’ve prepared so graciously*

Never have I ever thought about someone sucking on my fingers as much as I’ve thought about Megumi doing it. Yeah this weeks English dubbed VA? You better your fucking sweet ass I was thinking about that gravelly voice of his all dopey and giggly. Brushing his hair off his face and all that dumdass does is grab your hand and put your fingers back in his mouth. God he doesn’t even stop there and gags on them. If you weren’t so tired this would be hot. But bitch c’mon a queen needs a break and this puppy is covered in cum and sweat and drool he can take a break to. But you know what I thought of half way through reading you beautiful master piece-

Cockwarming with doped up Megumi

Now I don’t even normally like cockwarming save for one character I’d do it with. But this needy idiot can’t tell if he’s fucking you or not. All he knows is warmth and the prickliness on his skin. Solution to needing a power nap? Wrapping your legs around him and forcing him to bury his cock inside you while you lock your legs over him (honestly its not hard just the weight of one of your legs keeps this idiot from moving too much) And you seal the deal by pulling his face into your chest. Wet lips on your neck/collar bone/chest, really any place he can put them in his stupor. And his cock now nestled nicely in your cunny with the rest of his cummy mess he left as a present. Megumi grumbling, moaning and whining ever so softly like a little puppy and you just coo at him, stroking his hair and telling him to hush while you try to catch a few zzz’s to recoup your own energy. He’s got the pleasantness of your cunt around his cock and half the time he can’t really tell if he’s thrusting into you or not. It’s perfect. He keeps dozing off, drooling on your chest while you hold him and keep him buried inside you. Megumi smashed into you ready to get every inch of his skin in contact with you. He’s mumbling about how much he loves you and wants to marry you or some stupid fucked up dope induced ramble but really it’s just him actually speaking his mind. God the dirt you could get on him. But your nice and let him continue praising you while soft thrusts into your core as you doze on and off with him leeched onto you

This is top quality content that I crave (’:

[cobaltusami]

Tropical Vacation pt. 1

Hey hi hello! So I'm going to be starting to post the 50 follower special over the course of this week, I have proof read 10,000 words worth of writing so hopefully by the time I have all the parts already written posted, I'll have the rest of it done or almost done!

There aren't any real tickles In this part because I was setting up for the rest of the story, but there's a close encounter near the end. Next part will have lots of tickles!

Characters In this part: Makoto, Leon, Mondo, Chihiro, Taka, Sakura, Hina, Hiro, Celeste, Kyoko

Words: 1,944

PT 1: [You are here.], PT 2: [Click here.]

It was a normal day In Hope’s peak academy-- If there was ever such a thing. The students were gathered In the dining hall eating breakfast as they normally do and chatting amongst themselves.

The energy was pretty calm today, Hiro cheerfully pointed out upon arriving, only to be told not to jinx them.

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

“Hey, do you hear something?” Makoto asked hesitantly. Kyoko nodded and closed her eyes momentarily, focusing on the odd sound.

“It sounds like… Ocean waves.” She concluded, her lavender eyes scanning the room curiously.

“Ocean waves? Why would we be hearing the ocean?” Makoto pondered aloud.

“Hina, Is that not what It sounds like to you?” Kyoko asked the swimmer, who had perked up at the mention of the ocean.

“You’re totally right! I hear It too!” She agreed.

Leon looked to his left where a speaker was attached to a support beam. “It’s coming from over here. Don’t tell me, Monokuma…” he trailed off with a heavy sigh.

As if he were Beetlejuice and his name had been mentioned 3 times, a wild Monokuma appeared from out of seemingly nowhere. “I thought you students might benefit from a change in scenery! I wouldn’t want you getting TOO depressed, You might get too depressed to kill anyone!”

The whole room heaved a collective sigh. “For the last fuckin’ time, We aren’t going to kill one another! So you can go fuck yourself!” Mondo snapped.

“But Robots don’t have the right parts for that!” Monokuma retorted, looking dejected. “How could you be so cruel? Pointing out my insecurities like that…”

“Yeah yeah, This Is great banter and all but--” Leon wasn’t about to sit through another hour of Mondo and Monokuma going back and forth, not after the last time. “What the hell do you mean, ‘Change of scenery’?”

“Good question, Kirishima!” Monokuma responded. “Oh, Whoops, Wrong series!”

“Has Monokuma finally lost it?” Hiro whispered. “What’s he talking about? Series?”

“I dunno... Did Monokuma ever have It to begin with, Man?” Leon whispered back.

“Anyway!” Monokuma cleared his nonexistent throat. “I thought I would liven your surroundings up with some ambience for a while, What do you think? Pretty realistic huh? You can practically feel the ocean breeze right?”

Makoto exchanged glances with Kyoko, not trusting this little shit for a second. “That’s It?”

“What? Were you expecting more?” Monokuma asked, tilting his head.

“There’s not going to be like a shark In the pool or anything… Right? This is it?” Hina asked hesitantly.

“Don’t give him ideas.” Makoto said, exasperated.

“Eh? Why would I do that? I want you to kill each other, Not become shark bait!” The bear retorted. “If you don’t believe me, go check around the school. I don’t have time to explain my feng shui to you, I have places to be!”

As abruptly as he appeared, He disappeared In an annoyed huff. Leaving the dining hall confused.

“So, Does everyone else think he’s using paranoia as a motive again or Is It just me?” Leon asked in a deadpan tone, a few students nodded in agreement.

“I for one would welcome a change in pace! Perhaps he is legitimately concerned for our mental health!” Taka spoke up. “We should absolutely check out the school after breakfast to see what’s changed!”

“T-Taka… Bro…” Mondo sighed. “Monokuma don’t give a shit about us, This Is obviously a trick.”

“What did he mean by that?” Chihiro asked quietly. “He has places to be?”

“He was probably just bullshitting us as usual.” Leon replied.

Kyoko hummed quietly, skeptical. She had also caught that unusual dialog line.

“Let us finish breakfast and then go look around.” Celeste suggested, taking a sip of her tea.

Everyone agreed and the energy of the room returned to It’s previous lightheartedness.

Upon exiting the room afterwards, the students noticed inflatable palm trees and random piles of sand scattered across the common area.

Makoto stared at the ‘decor’ In awkward silence, there’s no way it could be this harmless… right?

“It appears as though Monokuma really did do some redecorating…” Kyoko hummed thoughtfully, though not fully convinced of the remodel either.

“It’s…” Hina trailed off, an inflatable Monokuma wearing a grass skirt catching her eye.

“Tacky?” Leon suggested, kicking one of the Monokuma decorations out of his way.

She eyed a giant inflatable flamingo as she replied. “Kind of cute? I mean, At least It’s different.”

“Different, It certainly Is…” Sakura mumbled, sticking by Hina’s side just in case any of these inflatable beach toys decided to spring to life like Monokuma and try to attack the Swimmer.

“I think It looks fuckin’ stupid!” Mondo scoffed.

“Not just that, Monokuma has completely made a mess with all of this sand everywhere!” Taka seemed more outraged about the mess than the ominous looming threat.

“Sakura-- Look at that!” Hina pointed excitedly at a massive flamingo floaty. You could literally fit multiple people on it. “It’s so cute! I’m so gonna put this in the pool!”

“Hina, What do you need an inflatable this large for?” Sakura sighed. “You don’t even use them.”

“So that we can both chill on it together and pretend we’re at the beach, Duh!” Hina giggled, The martial artist couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at that.

She was about to say something in response but felt something light land on her head, She instinctively grabbed it and inspected it. It was a pink lei. “What the… Where did this come from?”

“The fuck?” Mondo grabbed a blue lei off of his shoulder.

Hina perked up as a yellow lei landed in her hands. She looked up in the direction It came from to see Chihiro standing atop a massive duck floaty that was similar in size to the flamingo. In their hands they had several more lei’s.

“Chihiro, where did you find those? These are so cute!” Hina squealed, happily putting the lei on.

Chihiro giggled. “I found them sitting in a box next to the door.” They replied, smiling.

Sakura and Mondo both looked up at Chihiro in silence for a moment as they both processed what they were looking at. But once they did…

“CHI!” Mondo yelled, alarmed.

“Chihiro!” Sakura gasped.

“Y-Yeah?” Chihiro asked meekly, startled by the unusual reaction from their friends.

“What are you doing up there??”

“Get down from there right now before ya fall and hurt yourself!”

“What are they now, Chihiro’s parents?” Leon asked, exasperated.

“I mean, If I had to pick anyone here to be my parents, I’d pick these two.” Makoto chuckled quietly.

Chihiro frowned and went to climb off of the duck’s head but they stumbled and squeaked as they went crashing towards the floor.

Mondo dove for the small programmer but Sakura had already seen they were gonna fall so she had taken off in their direction.

Sakura managed to catch them in her arms but didn’t anticipate Mondo also diving for them, she figured Mondo would have seen she was already on it but evidently not.

Mondo ended up colliding with Sakura and the two went tumbling to the floor, luckily Chihiro hadn’t been collateral because Sakura had just put them down.

“OW FUCK!”

“Ugh…”

Leon and Hiro both cracked up laughing at the two, but quickly stopped when Taka and Hina sent them death glares.

Mondo laid there, winded. His upper half was draped across Sakura, She had tried to catch him to break his fall but underestimated how much momentum he’d built up and they both ended up hitting the floor a few times whilst they tumbled.

“Oh no! Are you guys okay?!” Chihiro gasped, rushing over to them with teary eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think anyone would get hurt!”

“Hurt? Who says... we’re hurt?” Mondo tried to put the programmer at ease, mustering up a lopsided grin. “I’m fine, what about you Sakura?”

She was silent for a moment, Most likely also winded from hitting the floor so hard.

“Sakura?” Mondo repeated, pushing himself up off of her, his hand brushing against her side. Her eyes snapped open, suddenly very alert as she jerked upwards into a sitting position.

“Y-Yes. I’m fine too.” She blushed, her arms wrapping around herself self consciously.

Mondo made a confused face. “What’s wrong? Ya hit your head?”

“No, I… Nevermind.”

Chihiro’s face scrunched with confusion too as they replayed what had just happened in their head. Then they realized. “Ohh! I think I know!”

“What Is It?” The Biker asked, turning his head to look at the small student.

“I-It’s nothing. I suppose I’m just a little bit winded from you landing on me.” She said calmly, her face unreadable.

“Well… That could be too…” They mumbled, thinking over It more carefully.

Suddenly, Hina began laughing, as she had apparently figured out what happened. “Oh my god! Mondo! Dude she--”

“Hina!” Sakura interjected quickly, sensing danger. “Don’t even think about It!”

“Will someone just tell me what the fuck is going on!?” Mondo snapped.

“I can’t say It, Because Sakura might kill me If I do.” Hina snickered.

Chihiro sat down next to the Martial artist. “Are you hurt…?” they asked quietly, putting their hand carefully on her side.

She flinched visibly and looked at the small student, blushing. “N-No. I’m fine, Really.” she tried to reassure them. Because she was too busy worrying about Chihiro, she didn’t catch the look of realization across Mondo’s face. Ohhh and the evil grin that followed…

“Sakura, Don’t tell me…” Mondo grinned as the white haired student looked back at him. “Are you ticklish?”

She recognized the almost predatory look in his eyes, and quickly put distance between them by backing up then rising to her feet. “No.” she responded In a serious tone.

Mondo stood up and was slowly advancing towards the slightly nervous woman. “I think you’re lying~”

“Taka!” Sakura said suddenly. “I think Mondo’s bleeding.”

“What!?” Taka was quickly in front of his Kyoudai, checking him for injuries, also effectively standing in his way.

“Wh-what? No-- Taka I’m fine! She’s tricking you!” Mondo stammered, incredulous that Taka would fall for such an obvious trick.

“Trick or not, I need to make sure you’re okay!”

This gave Sakura a chance to get away from the biker, sneaking past back to the safety of her room.

Once Taka was sure that Mondo wasn’t bleeding, he backed off. “Ogami! This isn’t fuckin’ over!” He called down the hall in vain.

“I believe It Is!” She called back, Hina was nearly on the floor laughing her ass off.

“S-Sorry Kyoudai…” Taka meekly apologized.

Mondo sighed. “It’s fine. You were just worried.”

Taka was about to say something else but felt a lei being placed around his neck, he looked down at it in surprise. It was red to match his eyes. “Ch-Chihiro?” he stammered, turning around to face the Programmer.

“I saved the red one for you, there was only one in the box and I thought it would look the best on you.” They smiled.

Taka teared up at the kind gesture. “Th-Thank you! I shall treasure this for as long as I shall live!”

Chihiro giggled as they hugged the strict student, making him even more teary as he returned the hug.

“Using Taka against Mondo to escape Is really smart…” Leon said quietly to Makoto and Hiro.

“Yeah, How come we never thought of that?” Hiro replied.

“That would require you all to have a functioning brain in your heads.” Celeste smiled as they gave her pointed looks.

Kyoko smirked at this, apparently agreeing with Celeste’s sentiment.

[dangitdespair]

Hey so i was the one that asked if requests were open and you don’t have to apologize is ok dear! So may i request Fuyuhiko proposing to his s/o?

Warning: Contains spoilers for SDR2 ending!

This is my first time writing for Fuyuhiko properly, so I hope it’s good,,,

- mod shuichi

By the way, please let me know if there are any mistakes. I wrote this kinda late and didn’t proof read it so there might be some goof ups in there.

The two of you had been through it all, pretty much. The killing game was finally over and the two of you were part of the remaining few who managed to overcome despair and make a future for yourselves.

Through the trials and ordeals that you had been thrown into head first, you managed to live it through. And it’s thanks to those tormenting events that the two of you were as close as you were. Your relationship had been forged in arduous times, but that’s what made it stronger.

A few years had passed since the ending of the killing game and with everyone regaining their consciousness. You and Fuyuhiko were travelling around the world with Future Foundation with the goal of undoing what damage the Tragic Event had brought. Such a life for the two of you was stressful, but it took you to many different places. One such place was a beautiful beach town on the tropical shores of the country you had just finished work in. Your assignment had just been completed, so the two of you are staying in the town for a few more days just to relax a bit.

For a while now, Fuyuhiko has been planning something, but he keeps putting it off, as it never feels like the right time. It never feels like the right time to ask you to marry him. He’s even got the ring and everything that he takes everywhere with him. He is deeply in love with you and wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his days with you, yet he doesn’t know when to ask. Or how to ask.

On the final day before you are supposed the leave the country together, Fuyuhiko is lying on your shared bed in the hotel you were stating in. His thoughts are swirling with you and self doubt that he’d ever be able to ask you. He’s had enough of these stupid-ass doubts! He rolls over, grabs his phone, and messages Peko, asking for help. But the answer he gets back is perplexing.

“‘I have to make it the right time’? The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He grumbles to himself, combing his fingers through his short blond hair in frustration. He continues to read the rest of Peko’s message. “‘I’ll keep thinking it’s never the right time if I keep thinking that’? ‘Just be myself’? ‘BECAUSE THEY FELL IN LOVE WITH THE REAL ME’?!” Fuyuhiko progressively gets louder and louder. He’s incredibly thankful you’re not there to hear his shouting. He sends back a ‘thanks’ and drops his phone off the side of the bed onto the carpeted floor.

So, with Peko’s words of wisdom now in his mind, he begins to formulate a plan in his mind.

~~~

That evening, you notice that Fuyuhiko is acting strange. He suggests that the two of you go for a walk on the beach. That’d be fine if he was almost never the one that initiated any dates. You noticed that he would be staring at you, only to look away last second when he notices you. Not to mention that he seems to be incredibly awkward. It was like the two of you had just begun dating again.

The two of you left at sunset after a nice dinner you had thrown together. It definitely wasn’t Teruteru level dining, but Fuyuhiko loved whatever you made, anyway. After a little bit of random talking about things, you notice something. Fuyuhiko seems to be rather tense, so you try to ask him what’s wrong. Except he doesn’t say anything. He would have normally brushed it off as nothing or began swearing like a sailor while ranting. But he remained silent this time. Only reaching out to hold your hand. Your eyes widen for a brief second, but your face fades into a smile. “Feeling brave, huh?” You tease. Fuyuhiko was never one for PDA, even though you’d been in a relationship for a few years now.

Then two of you continue to walk hand in hand until Fuyuhiko suddenly stops. You’re confused and turn to look back at him. “Are you alright?” You begin, when the shorter man falls to his knee. Your eyes widen in disbelief. Is he going to-?

“(Y/N), I... we’ve both been through some real tough shit. But we stuck together through it. We’ve literally been to fuckin’ hell and back, but we’re still together. You’ve been by my side the whole time. I’m just a short, grumpy heir to a massive criminal syndicate, yet you still love me. And I... I’m the same way. I love you too. So much. So that’s why I... I...” Fuyuhiko trails off his sentence and quickly wipes his teary eyes with his sleeve. He removes his hand from his pocket and reveals a ring box. In it, contained the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. You could feel your knees beginning to give out. Was this really real?

“Gah, I’m just gonna say it. That’s why I want you to marry me!” He calls out. You can hardly believe your ears. Once Fuyuhiko’s determined expression softens, he continues. “So we can make a future together.”

The scene is beautiful. The soft waves lapping at the shore, the gentle ocean breeze, and the fading purple and orange sky, illuminating the both of you. Unable to say articulate any words, all you can do is tackle Fuyuhiko into a bear hug. It’s not hard to knock him over since he’s so small. The two of you go hurdling back into the sand, with you laughing and crying at the same time. You couldn’t be happier.

“Yes!” You cry into his chest. You’ve got to look like an absolute mess right now. “Yes! I will!” After taking a deep breath, you settle down. “I’m so happy right now.”

The two of you sit up with your foreheads touching. Luckily, Fuyuhiko had held onto the ring so it didn’t go flying into the sand when you knocked him over. He carefully slides it onto your finger, where you admire it with an outstretched arm.

“You deserve nothing but happiness.” He says softly.

“I love you, Fuyuhiko,” You smile against him.

“I love you too, (Y/N) Kuzuryu,” he replies.

You can’t believe this has happened. Your future gets to be with the one you love. The two of you couldn’t be any happier.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 9

As promised, two chapters in one day! HBD to this trash rabbit. I just get thirstier with age.

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. DRUG USE IN THIS CHAPTER. Just generally an uncomfortable vibe, thread carefully.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Ooh, boy. This is a whole mess. Angst. [insert drugs owl meme]. Steve doesn't pass the vibe check yet again, stupid old man. Bruce + Tony be like: I CAN'T GET NO SLEEP CUZ OF Y'ALL.

My beta, whomst I love more than cake - @miscmarvelwritings . She's so beautiful though. And so smart. Wow.

The strobe lights pulsated to the rhythm of the music, bodies swaying, gyrating to the tune. The club was banging this time of night, people were living it up like there was no tomorrow. For me, in the VIP zone it was quieter, calmer, but no less exciting. The atmosphere here was distinctly different from the one on the main floor.

It was hard to wallow in misery even if it only took me an hour to stop resisting the gratuitous amounts of white powder on the silver platters. "It's better when you're there to watch them, they'll do it anyway but at least you can know that they're getting the good stuff!" My idiot father proudly announced, looking at me snorting a line through a rolled up hundred dollar bill.

Whiskey and vodka wasn't doing it for me. It made me feel low and Dad, being Dad, of course noticed it and immediately called a guy who knew a guy and suddenly all of his friends and their baby-faced companions had white under their noses. Cash flew like autumn leaves.

As I went out to the main dance floor to get a closer look at Billie Eilish in all of her edgy, beautiful self, the drug hit me like an avalanche. No trace of the grogginess or the mortification that had hitched a ride on me from Stark tower. I danced and sang and saw dad smiling at me in approval, his equally high and important friends all wearing identically predatory smirks. They were good at spotting the obvious - beauty, talent, money. I had no qualms about the fact that dad was off bragging about my close relationship with Tony. If my father was feeling particularly bold, he'd be telling them he knew and encouraged it all along, his buddies pretending to believe the white lie in turn.

I had exchanged my pants and sneakers in favour of a skirt and fishnets with high heels combo, a decidedly inappropriate attire for a daughter having a family night with her father but he insisted I dress trendy. I loved my dad, I really did, and I knew he meant well - I'd definitely be out of place amongst these TVscreen worthy people in my jeans and sneakers but...Tony was one of those people, and he had never ever said anything bad about the way I dress. Even when I obviously and purposely put on obscene clothing just to get a rise out of someone.Tony just smiled and played along.

Tony Stark was the heartless asshole here? Really, press? Really, haters?

"Standing there, killing time, can't commit to anything but a crime..." I sang along quietly as I hurried back to the VIP area. My dad was standing up and so were a couple of his buddies. "Where's ya goin'?" I asked, taking a seat.

"Be right back baby girl, if you find better company then go on without us," Dad winked, throwing a totally nasty glance at one of the girls. She was not much older than me but her body was stick thin and bolt-ons and Botox were her two best friends. She gave me a dirty look and I returned it, extending a waiting hand towards my dad. He chuckled, depositing a neatly rolled stack of hundreds into my palm.

"Dad, I want a new purse," I whined, just a tad. Just to see the girl's eyes go wide with acrid envy. Dutifully, another couple of stacks landed in my palm without any objections and the company retreated towards the back door.

I sighed.

Fiddled with the straw of my drink a bit, contemplating my options. I could always ditch this party and go somewhere more active, somewhere with better music and kinder people.

"Ay, baby girl, you wanna party with us?" A tall, handsome man from dad's previous company approached me. "We'll have some fun." He maintained a respectful distance but the intentions were clear.

"Nope," I popped the sound, not even sparing him a glance. A few lines of cocaine stared at me from the table beckoning with a better high, a stronger sense of euphoria, confidence and energy to dance, to sing, to be happy. I picked up one of the discarded banknotes, quickly rolling it by a sheer force of habit and cleaning up the tray. One line.

"Holy shit, is that..."

Two lines.

"The fuck?!" I recognised that voice. I have been hearing it every day in the labs, I've been hearing it in my dreams.

Tony was gaping at me, in front of me.

"Hey, Tony. Fancy seeing you here." Any other time, I'd be cringing at my lame greeting but I was feeling way too good to care about trivial things like being clever or being appropriate.

"I was looking...for you," He slowly said, putting a single finger on the tray with the last line of coke and pulling it out of my reach.

"That's funny," I snorted, hastily wiping at my nose to cover the tracks of my very bad, very immoral, very illegal activities.

"It's not, Princess, it's not funny at all," He frowned. "C'mon, we're leaving." And extended his hand. I decided to follow along - there was nothing for me to do at this club anyway, the music was lame and the people were stuck-up.

"I look like a prostitute, Tony, I'll take the back door," I attempted to pull him towards the aforementioned but he didn't budge, just stared straight ahead and towed me along like he was wearing one of his iron suits under the stylish jeans and tee get-up.

He stopped in front of the exit, giving me a critical once over. Wiped my face, again, brushed my hair back. Gave me his shades - I dutifully put them on, figuring the manic look in my eyes was anything but attractive right now. "Jesus Christ, Princess," He sounded desperate. "You're beautiful, don't you fucking worry."

And we made our exit, arm in arm, me trying not to stumble in my high heels, Tony being my rock, my solid foundation. In other words, I was hanging onto him for dear life trying not to fall over and give a reason for a sneaking paparazzi to make a scandalous headline.

"You're doing great, Princess," Tony helped me into his Tesla, slamming the door behind me and hurrying towards the driver's door. I managed to unclasp and kick off my shoes, curling up comfortably into the passenger's seat.

I watched the man as he started the engine and watched him wrestle with whatever personal demons that tormented him as he peeled off and raced into the Friday night city.

"What in the everlasting fuck..." He started, stopping abruptly mid-sentence. "How did you even get in there?"

"I came with dad. He literally ditched me to fuck some whore, like, twenty minutes before you showed up." I shrugged, eyeing the modified panel of the car. It was very obviously Tony's own design. I wondered if he could introduce me to Elon Musk someday.

"What the fuck? And correct me if I didn't hear you clearly," Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your father took it upon himself to drag you to a club, get you drunk, gave you cocaine and fucked off with some groupies?"

"Yah, that's about it. My dad is all about cocaine and whores, the more the better," I replied, leaning in to take a closer look at the car's panel. "Hey, could, like, introduce me to Elon Musk someday? That would be fuckin' awesome."

Tony went eerily quiet, I saw his knuckles on the steering wheel go white. Vague expletives were muttered under his breath. "I'm guessing you're good on sleep?" He finally asked through gritted teeth.

"Sleep? Don't know her," I laughed. "I wanna dance, Tony."

"Of course you do, Princess." His smile was tired and forced and full of pity. "You know, I don't think I'll be able to sleep now, either," He admitted, taking a sharp left. "How about we get some McDonald's and camp out in my lab?"

"Sure, whatever," Not like I had much choice in the matter. What I really craved was a good, long, hard fuck (by Tony himself preferably) but if science calls... I have no choice but to comply. "Get me two Big Macs," I demanded least he try to joke and get me a Happy Meal or some shit.

He did get me the food without any usual grumbling. I didn't like this Tony. Tired Tony, sad Tony, angry Tony. Wrong Tony.

"Huh?" He said and I realized I'd said the last part out loud.

"I don't like a sad Tony,” I said. "It's the wrong kind. Sassy, snarky and perpetually caffeinated Tony is the best Tony. The only proper kind, in fact." I stated with seriousness, shoes dangling from one hand and my McDonald's in the other. Man, I have been seeing more and more of this god-damned elevator recently.

"You're high as a kite, darling," He chuckled then, a real laugh.

"Who's high?" Bruce's voice came from the kitchen.

In a state of blind panic, I jumped behind Tony. "Not me."

Tony palmed his face.

Steve came over from the fridge, leaving the rummaging to Bucky. He took one look at me and suddenly I felt small, insignificant like an ant. I didn't like it much. "Holy hell, the fuck happened? Tony, explain." The Captain demanded, giving me the world's biggest stink eye.

"It's her piece of shit of a father, dragged her off to some night club and left her hanging with his buddies, fucking off god knows where. It's not her fault so lay the fuck off, Rogers, with your self-righteousness," Tony exploded all over Steve, the pent up frustration rearing it's ugly head.

I mustered enough courage to tiptoe around the dick measuring contest to sit at the counter. My appetite was gone and my burgers were turning colder and soggier with every passing second. Just like my life.

"Hey, Princess," Bruce's gentle voice halted my train of thought. He approached me carefully, ignoring the men behind me in favour of simply wrapping me up in a quiet, comfortable hug. "You feel alright? Want some water?"

"Nu-uh," I mumbled, unwilling to part ways with the warmth of this embrace.

"... Steve, I found her snorting miles of coke all by herself while an some jackass was waiting for her to be even more out of it. It's rare that I say this but I had literally zero words." Tony punctuated his words by tapping his fist against the wall multiple times.

Bruce tightened his hold on me, a sudden influx of strength accompanied by a quiet, low growl in his throat.

I felt the sudden need to clarify the situation. "Tony, chill. It takes me a lot more to be out of it, I'm fucking coherent and I'm talking sensibly. It's not my first rodeo."

Apparently I'd gone and said the wrong thing because all the men in the room were suddenly growling. I even totally forgot about Bucky who had the uncanny ability to exist in a room without making absolutely any sort of noise.

"The fuck do you even mean by that, Princess?" Tony screeched, probably already knowing that answer.

"From one rich kid to another, you should damn well fuckin' know," I spat, unwilling to admit my misery.

He sighed, audibly deflating behind me. I refused to listen to him, refused to be humiliated and exposed like that for my perfectly human desire to be happy. To not be a disappointment, to not be disappointed in everything and everyone. Bruce was nice and kind and warm and selfless but even he couldn't love me the way I wanted to be loved. Cherished, taken care of. All that mushy stuff. I was selfish, so I snuggled in closer to him, muting the world around me, replacing it with the smell and feel of him.

Cocaine made it a whole lot easier to imagine. Maybe that's why it was so addictive.

"Guys, calm down, you're stressing everyone out," Bruce rumbled quietly. I loved the way his deep voice seemed to reverb throughout his chest.

"Get me a cup of coffee, would you, Buckaroo?" Tony sighed again. I heard the sound of him slurping at his coffee. I heard Bucky's metal arm clunk against something equally metallic before the supersoldiers bid everyone good night and walked off.

Only then I removed my face from Bruce enough to take a good look at Tony. He was eyeing me, too.

"We have a caffeinated Tony," I said, softly. "Now we just need some science to have a happy Tony."

He smiled but it came out watery. He wanted to say something but choked on his words. "C'mere," He finally said, turning in his chair and opening his arms.

I unashamedly made grabby hands, the universal gesture for ‘I want, gimme’, and Bruce delightfully deposited me into Tony's waiting arms. It was like my birthday and Christmas came out all at once. Tony's embrace was warm, like Bruce's, but tinted with an unexpected familiarity. He smelled like motor oil and fancy cologne. It was heavenly.

"You keeping tabs on me, huh? Coffee, science and sass? That's your recipe for happiness?" The engineer asked me, a seriousness that didn't match the joking tone of the conversation at all.

"I think I got you figured out. Peter, too, is important for happiness. But in controlled amounts," I said, giving it a careful thought.

Tony chuckled, sounding a little bit shocked. "What about you?" He said after a brief moment of silence passed, interrupted only by Bruce's tea kettle coming to a slow boil.

"I don't think you need me for happiness," I said, meaning it. "But let's be honest, I'm a nice addition."

He stilled under me, briefly. Bruce cleared his throat.

"Brucie needs me, I think. He's lonely," I told Tony with a sudden influx of desire to be completely honest and 100% transparent. "And it makes me happy, because I need Bruce too. He's the best," I finished.

"Is that so?" Tony sounded vaguely tearful so I attempted to pull back to take a good look at his face. He didn't let me though, gently but firmly pressing my face back into his chest. "And me?"

"I do need you, Tones," I admitted without spilling any unnecessary details.

There was a child within me, small and scared and lonely, like Bruce. I hated her, hated being so soft and needy when everybody else obviously (and understandably) was busy with figuring out their own lives. I wished, desperately so, to just boom-boom-whoosh her away like Doctor Strange magicked away unwanted visitors.

Tony said nothing but his hands betrayed him. They shook and they held onto the skimpy see-through fabric of my top like he was a drowning man and I was his only floatie. For the moment, I closed my eyes and let myself believe he needed me, too.

"I'll catch a wink or two, wake me up if you need something," Bruce broke the silence, having finished off his tea. I didn't notice the time pass so quickly, too lost somewhere between here and there and Tony. In short, I was being lovesick all over the billionaire.

"Bwucie," I leaned backwards, pushing until Tony caved and let me rest my back against the counter, elbows on top of it, legs dangling freely on the sides of his legs. It put a lot of me on display. Tony had called me beautiful earlier so none of my usual habits of being appropriate around the man concerned me. He thought I was pretty!

"Princess," Banner came over to wrap me in a hug that was quite awkward, considering the fact I was sitting on Tony. It took some maneuvering to get it right.

"Night night," I said the usual and got a brief kiss on the cheek before Bruce shuffled off, yawning.

Tony was watching us with an unreadable expression. As soon as I turned my head to look at his face instead, something in him changed. His eyes grew big and round, the crease between his eyebrows disappeared. The corners of his mouth tilted up.

On a sudden impulse, I reached over to run my palm gently over the neatly trimmed line of his beard, following from his chin to his jawline, to his soft tousled hair. His eyelashes shook, fluttered, as the engineer leaned into my touch with the grace of a cat. "Kiss him, kiss him" my brain chanted. I knew I was a coward, I wouldn't do that. "Pretty," I said instead, the word coming out in a whisper.

He gulped, audibly. "Princess, you have no idea..." Shaking his head, as if he was surrounded by a swarm of mosquitoes, Tony briefly looked away. "You have no idea what you're doing."

"Nope," I agreed solemnly. "But at least it feels good. It feels right."

"God," He frowned, one of his hands coming to nervously card through his hair. "Nothing about this is right."

My face fell. Just like I thought, Tony wanted exactly nothing to do with a clueless little teenager. It stung and tears pooled in the corners of my eyes where I stubbornly refused to let them escape and make me into a crybaby. "Whatever you say, Tony." I was ready to agree with anything he said, really, if he would just keet holding me like that.

"Don't," He raised a palm. "Don't close yourself off like that."

Now I was genuinely confused. What exactly did he expect from me? I shrugged.

"You're clever, brilliant and beautiful, you can and should do so much better than all of this," He vaguely gestured towards me, towards himself, towards us and the whole damn city.

I contemplated my answer, briefly. "A lot of people tell me what I should and shouldn't be doing. Don't I get a say?" The bitterness had fought its way out and won. "I just want to be happy for a bit. All the usual bullshit."

He looked taken aback, really. Like he hadn't even considered the option. Typical.

Meanwhile, I continued my word vomit. "I want someone to give a damn about what I want and what makes me happier. Until then, I have no other choice but to take care of myself the best way I know how. Like everybody else does," The weight of his arm landed on my waist, pulling me close to his chest yet again. I didn't resist. No fight left in me. The tiredness seeped deep in my bones, chilly.

The sudden change of altitude startled me. The engineer had picked me up and started walking off towards the elevator, directing it to the lab. His personal lab. The tiles felt cold under my feet where he put me down to make his own beeline for the bar. I would've joined if not the drug in my system - the last thing I wanted was to land in a hospital yet again.

I took the moment to browse my social media, untag myself from all the unflattering pictures, post my usual shitpost. A tiny skirt, equally tiny top and fishnets - I felt out of place in his lab although I've worn more outrageous things previously. I was raw, torn open, bleeding my misery all over the room. That was not in my plan, but then again, when did ever life go as you planned it?

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