#it hit extra hard today all of a sudden

[autumnal-hues]

Turns out compartmentalizing my feelings day in and day out isn't of much help in the long run. 12 years of wishing to see your team lift that trophy, 12 years of wishing to see that damned cup with three pillars and a world on top once in someone's hands...and one fine day, you know it's all over, just like that. How do I ever move on?

[lostalioth]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

→ premise: all logan wanted after a hard and long day was his girl and if he has to chase her around the house a little. even better.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, unprotected sex, primal kink [sort of?], logan chase’s reader, free use, nicknames [my girl, baby, sweet girl], daddy kink, logan calls himself daddy [and old man once], bathroom sex

→ a/n: kinktober 14

Logan was a simple man all he needed was his girl after a long hard day. It was an ache deep in his adamantium bones that he couldn't explain. An ache that seeing your pretty face beaming at him the second he pushes open the front door melted from his abused body.

You however decided that today for a little extra fun, you wanted to be a brat and run from Logan instead of greeting him at the door like his good girl. “C’mon you're really gonna make ya’ old man chase you sweet girl?” He groans, barely using any strength or energy as he slowly follows you as you bounce around the house. He was exhausted and yet he couldn't deny that thrill that shot down to his cock as his jeans thighted when he thought of catching you, he knew he could. Admittedly yes he had a large advantage over you, he was a mutant and you weren't. The idea that you couldn't get away even if you tried sent an ache to your core that made you push his buttons further.

“Afraid you won’t catch up to me daddy?” You giggle and tilt your head in his direction as you made the mistake of standing still.

A boardline primal growl leans his lips causing your eyes to widen, your heart thumping harder and faster in your chest. “Ya’ asked for it baby” he chuckles darkly sending shivers down your spine as he rushes forward in a sudden burst of effort. A squeal leaves your lips in surprise as your instincts kick in as fast as humanly is possible and you spin on your heel running away from your beast of a boyfriend.

“Lo!!” You squeak out, a heat spreading through your body in a mixture of fear and arousal as you try your hardest not to get caught just yet. After a few minutes of manganing to practically run from Logan in circles around the house, on impulse you make a wrong turn and run into your shared bedroom and the attached ensuite bathroom. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” you curse out as you come to a halt suddenly at a dead end.

”Aww you got ya’ self trapped now sweet girl” Logan’s deep voice filled the echoing bathroom, making it feel like he was surrounding you as he creeped up behind you. Right as you spin your body around to face him, he’s on you in a flash pressing you back against the cold counter. “Did you really think you could outrun me baby? Or did the idea of daddy catching you excite ya’? Huh?” He taunts, his large calloused hands encircling your hips as he pushes his body against you further pinning you in place against the bathroom counter. You let out a short pathetic whine when his thumb runs along the band of your skirt toying with it. “Well? Daddy’s waiting on an answer” he presses with his thumbs against your hip bones before one hand travels up and makes its way under your shirt, working at undoing your bra.

“I wanted daddy to catch me” you gasp out when he pops open your bra under your shirt, pushing the straps off your shoulder and letting it fall to the tile floor. Warm rough hand palming over your now exposed breasts.

”Such a bad girl, making me chase ya’ just for some excitement” he tsks as his hand leaves your chest and he turns his attention towards unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down his thighs alongside his boxers to free his aching cock. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking down his thick shaft. “Specially’ when ya’ know all daddy wants to come home to is his girl all ready for him to use” he lightly shakes his head, both of his hands now pulling down your skirt revealing the fact you weren't wearing any panties. A rush of cold air hits your exposed bare cunt making you squirm in his hold, your eyes glazing over as you look at the proud look that now over takes Logan's face.

“Oh fuck.. you were ready huh baby? My girls s’sweet to me, not wearing any panties while she’s waiting f’me to get home fuck” he growls out, his tactic of going slow flying out the window now. He quickly pushes your skirt all the way down your legs letting you step out of the puddle of your combined clothes on the floor. Grabbing a hold of your plush ass he is quick to lift you up, sitting you down on the cold marble countertop and wrapping your legs around his wide hips. “Daddy!” You let out a short gasp as he smacks his throbbing tip against your clit before lining it up at your entrance and pushing all the way inside with one sharp and hard thrust.

“S’good for me sweet girl, love my little free use girl” he mumbled out in a slurred together mess, the stress of his long day leaving his body as his hips pull back and snap forward to meet yours, pounding his cock deep inside you. His cock already hitting the spot that makes you see stars repeatedly with every hard thrust into you. “Fuck! Lo~” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his neck.

“Thought bout’ this sweet pussy all day baby, just wanted to come home to my sweet baby s’bad” he growls out, his balls tightening the more your cunt clenches down on his cock. Gripping onto the back of your neck he pulls your face away from his shoulder to crash his lips against yours to muffle the groans that slip past his lips in pleasure. Logan never used to be this vocal in bed, not a real big fan of talking during sex but he can't help the sounds and dirty words that fall from his mouth when he is buried to the hilt inside your cunt.

“Daddy m’gonna cum, pleasee let me cum” you plead into his lips in a broken moan as the band in your stomach tightens more and more with each slap of his balls against your ass. “Cum f’me sweet girl” he coos pulling away to rub his thumb over your check watching as his favorite sweet blissed out look spreads across your face when the band snaps.

With a wonton cry of Logan's name and mumbles of ‘thank you’ fill the bathroom you gush all over his cock when your orgasm washes over you. Your cum creates a creamy ring at the base of his cock, his hips not flattering in their thrusting making you let out a whimper as the stimulation steadily becomes too much, his tip abusing your g spot countiually even after your climax ends. “Lo…daddy, cant take no more” you whine out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and the pleasure mixes with slight pain from overstimulation.

“M’sorry sweet girl, daddy isn't done with his girl yet, it’s okay baby just let daddy use ya’ a little more okay?” He grunts out, his fingers digging into your hips as his head falls against your chest, pants and groans tumbling from his mouth mixed in with praise and moans of your name. Logan desperately needed this moment to last just a bit longer before that ache settled into his body again.

→ a/n: i didnt proofread this, im in to much of a rush to get this out today as well as start on the two fics i need to post to to get on track with kinktober

[goosita]

trying to work when you're sick as young!politician!snow's secretary would be hard, but not for the reason you might think

you've been sniffling since yesterday afternoon, but this morning when you woke up, you felt like you'd been hit by a train. every muscle in your body was sore, your throat hurt, your nose was running and you could tell you had at least a lowgrade fever. you glanced at your alarm clock next to your bed and groaned, seeing that you'd woken up just a little while before it was set to go off anyway.

you thought about calling in sick, but you've never done it before. were you supposed to call....coriolanus? directly? he was your only boss, you worked solely for him. but that thought made you feel even worse than your illness did. you knew that he had a busy day today full of meetings and work calls, and that you needed to be there to help organize his schedule. you couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him.

you sucked it up and took the hottest shower you could stand in efforts to clear your sinuses and stop the fever-induced chills wracking your body every few minutes. you knew coriolanus liked for you to look put-together in pretty dresses and heels, but today you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. you dressed in a loose blouse and pair of wide-leg trousers that felt comfortable enough, shoving your feet into flat shoes. good enough.

so now here you are, bundled in your sweater you keep at the office and trying hard to manifest that nobody will notice your red and raw nose or your watery eyes, least of all coriolanus. the wish goes ungranted, prayer unanswered as he strolls in and immediately stops and stares at you.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"oh, um. just a little cold," you answer, voice nasally and much lower in pitch than normal. coriolanus frowns at you and shrugs his coat off, hanging it up and walking straight over to you to press the back of his hand to your forehead.

"you're burning up."

his lips turn down even further, not noticing the way you freeze at his sudden touch. coriolanus has been a lot more...touchy with you lately, but even still, this amount of concern is unexpected. his brows furrow at you, looking at you for a long moment. he carefully brushes your hair out of your face, looking over you and taking note of your outfit and general state. you can tell he notices that you've dressed much more comfortably than you usually would, and that your face is makeup-free and hair left at simply brushed through to undo any tangles.

"up," he tells you, gently lifting you out of your chair by your elbow.

"what?"

"let's get you home," he says gently, rubbing a warm and heavy hand up and down your back. "you're in no shape to be here today. i'll have my driver take you back to your apartment."

you look at him confused, unsure what to say. you're not sure if he's upset that you're sick or if he's more worried for your wellbeing, but it makes you anxious that he's acting so abrupt and unceremonious, almost as if you being sick is putting him on edge.

"coryo...?" you ask quietly. he freezes where he stands, having gone to grab your jacket off the coatrack. you watch as his entire demeanor softens.

"yes, miss y/n?"

you swallow hard, wincing at the pain it causes in your throat. "are...are you upset with me?"

coriolanus' eyebrows draw inward and upward at your question, quickly shaking his head.

"oh, no. no, of course not," he breathes, rushing over to help you slide into your coat. "i'm worried about you is all. i don't want you making yourself sicker by being here today, you're clearly very unwell. it's not your fault you're ill."

he carefully zips up your coat, grabbing his red scarf from the rack as well. before you can protest, he's draping it around your neck and tying it.

"for extra warmth," he explains. "it's freezing out there today."

the scarf is so soft where it's tucked beneath your chin, instantly adding more warmth where you need it. coriolanus gives you a tiny smile, lips closed but small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth.

you're led to the car by him, his hand resting between your shoulder blades the entire time. coriolanus opens the car door for you to slide into the back seat, instructing his driver to take you home and make sure you get into your apartment safe and sound. his voice holds so much authority when he speaks to the driver, a deepness and sternness that's never present when he's addressing you.

by the time you reach your apartment and climb the steps up, there are several beautifully packaged boxes waiting for you at your door, as well as a single red, long-stemmed rose. you tilt your head and bring them inside, opening them one by one to find that coriolanus has had soup, bread, and medicine delivered to you. attached to the rose by a red satin ribbon is a note that simply reads:

"get well soon, darling"

[ryiju-muunie]

jjk men reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume and it makes them feel a certain way? chousou and getou please!!!!

Love me, girl..

JJK Men reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume! [Choso, Geto, Gojo, Toji]

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/JJK MEN Warnings: established relationship, drabbles kind of, suggestive content, Geto breaks a door, Clingy!Satoru Gojo, Toji is just pure fluff sorry ;P Word count: 1645 DESC: JJK MEN's reactions to your new perfume!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN!!!!

This isn't super explicit but I thought you'd appreciate it anon!!

Also follow my spam if you want unfiltered funkle @garfunkle8008

Choso Kamo Whiny!

Choso was instantly intoxicated by that … that scent. It was hard to ignore as you walked through the door, busy on a phone call for work. At first, something sweet made him perk his head up and watch you stride into the kitchen. But it was strong. It filled his head and his senses for hours, although they were mere minutes. It was chocolate, with a hint of cinnamon. That smell was almost nostalgic as it brought him back to a simpler time with his family. However, the nostalgia turned into something else when you sat beside him. 

Innocent thoughts of cuddling next to you and inhaling your new scent were turned into things that were making his cheeks begin to flush. Kamo wasn’t inherently horny, in fact, he had the lowest sex drive of any guy you had ever been with. So he was surprised by the sudden arousal building in his pants. All from a smell? No, it had to be something more than that. Maybe he was ovulating? No, men don’t do that… Maybe he was just due to masturbate?

Your hand brushed over his knee, your body scooting closer to him as you began to speak delicately about your day. Your boyfriend, try as he might, wasn’t listening in the slightest. All he could think about was the warmth radiating off of your body. And that damn smell. It was making the man salivate as he tried to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. Not your neck, no, not your arms… Was it…? 

Choso snuck a very shy look down to your mini skirt, barely hiding the plush fat of your thighs. A lump formed in his throat as he stared; That’s where the smell was coming from, huh? His hand trailed down your thigh until he reached the end of your skirt. Slowly, he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric, until he was feeling up to your underwear. 

“Choso?” Your soft voice broke through his thoughts, causing the man’s face to tilt to see yours, flushed with embarrassment, “What are you doing?”

“You have a new perfume, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, “I wanted to… smell it.” It was a lame ass excuse to get into your pants, but whatever you did was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. Within seconds, he wrestled off your pencil skirt and then tossed your panties, you wouldn’t be needing them anyway. Your legs, they were spread perfectly for him as he gazed into your pussy. That’s where it hit him. You must’ve doused your whole body in this shit, and god was it amazing. Choso didn’t even want to move, the angle he was at, pressing his face into your thigh, was perfect enough to inhale you. To practically taste you without savoring you on his tongue. Not yet, no he was going to have fun with this.

Suguru Geto Impatient!

Suguru noticed you had been taking an extra long time in the shower. It wasn’t anything unusual, you were probably just shaving your legs. But something about it today was setting him in an impatient mood. He stared at the door and felt his leg bounce, hearing you hum and smelling your body wash waft into the air. Or at least, he thought it was that. Something about it was different, like honey but stronger. It captivated the air and made him stop for a moment. Was this new? Was this the right body wash he bought you yesterday?

He wasn’t complaining. Actually, he was rather content smelling you from there, sitting on your bed. After a moment, he cleared his throat, “Honey, are you almost done?” The man didn’t expect a response, seeing as you were busy doing something in there. He wasn’t expecting your voice to sound so … different. 

It was angelic how you laughed through the door, “Almost, dear!” You called out in the way you always did, but why was it so different now? Why did it send butterflies through his heart and a burning sensation down his pants? There was something wrong with him. Suguru stood and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe if he just saw you he’d feel normal, instead of these urges. It was the usual arousing urge he always felt when he got in the mood. Wanting to take you and make you his, breed you until you choked on his cum. Hold you close and slowly thrust into your warmth, grab your neck, and pull you into a messy kiss. 

The man went to the door and pressed his forehead against the wood, “Honey…” He whispered, voice threatening to rasp against his throat, “Open the door.” Your response was something basic like ‘Huh? Speak up!’ but it was killing him. Being this close and not even being able to touch you, let alone see you. And smelling you. This scent. It was honey and pure, melted, sugar. He could practically taste it on his tongue, as his hand grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. Suguru was surprised to hear it jam. You locked it. 

Geto pressed his lips together and turned the doorknob again, “Honey,” his voice was louder now as the doorknob snapped and opened with ease. He’d be replacing that later. He pushed the door open and stared at you, water-slicked hair clinging to your forehead as your bare frame was seated on the side of the tub, shaving your legs. He could see your back, rolls of fat perfectly seated on your sides into love handles, and your ass, perked up on the edge of the bathtub. 

He was going to make sure you couldn’t walk after this.

Satoru Gojo Handsy!

Satoru was already clingy, that was a fact. His best friend was so relieved he found you to take on the responsibility of babysitting him, so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t mind, in fact, you loved being able to spend time with him. And he loved it more than you’d ever know. He’d religiously check your location until you arrived home, so he could pester you until you were seated in his lap watching movies until the latest hours of the night. Did he have a problem? Maybe! But he didn’t care. 

When you came home from being out with your friends he was in the kitchen preparing dinner. At first, your new perfume didn’t hit him, that was until you brushed your form past him to grab the salt for your meal. It made your boyfriend pause and stiffen in his tracks. This was a new one, and this wasn’t a scent he had bought you. The obvious cheating thoughts ran through his head before that smell started to clog it. Mint and chocolate were filling his senses and making his head turn to you. When did you start wearing that lipstick? Was that new too? He never noticed your lips and how full they were… Or how your eyelashes clung to your cheeks when you looked down.

“Hey,” you felt your boyfriend's body press against you from behind as you tried to assemble your salad. Large and lanky arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you in, making your own mind blank as he continued with a soft voice in your ear, “When’d you get this new perfume?” Satoru’s nose pressed against the back of your ear, with his lips practically ghosting your skin. 

“I got it today at the mall, it’s nice right?” You replied, moving away from his grasp to grab the shredded cheese for your monstrosity of a salad. Gojo let a frown pull at his lips as you moved away, staring at your body as he attempted to make a new plan. Every part of his body was on fire unless he was clinging to your side. This was normal for him, but now it was intense. More intense than usual. It had to be that perfume. 

“So…” He purred, grabbing both of your shoulders and pressing himself back against you, “Why don’t we eat this stuff in bed?” On any other person, this level of seduction from this tall hunk of a man would have made them melt. But you were used to it. So instead of swooning as he hoped you would, you giggled. 

“Sure, just don’t get any crumbs on my side, okay?” Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought.

Toji Fushiguro Straight to the point!

Toji was already on you as soon as you got home. It was less than a minute before he was taking hold of you and pinning you to the wall, pressing his face into your neck to inhale that holy smell. For him, it was less arousing than it was comforting. The rest of the guys on this list felt more lust than love, but I think Toji would be the opposite. 

He had a rough life, and when you came in and graced him with two beautiful children, he was forever grateful. It was hard for him to show how much he loved you, instead opting to show it in physical ways rather than being vocal. Smelling this on you, and holding you close as he did so was his way of hoping you’d never leave. Pressing his body to yours and cradling you close. He never wanted you to go. He never wanted you to turn away and tell him you didn’t love him because Fushiguro wasn’t sure what he’d do if he was alone. 

“I love you,” he muttered, tightening the hold he had on you. You let out a breathless laugh, mainly from the fact he was stronger than he realized with his grip, and wrapped your arms around him. You were different than him, but you both loved each other regardless. 

“I love you more,” you smiled to which Toji pulled back with a frown.  “No bitch. I’ll never stop loving you.”

[s0urw00lf]

Can you do something for Issac Lahey? Maybe like him reacting to reader getting hurt or him being overly protective but he’s been too scared to share his feelings

Your protector

Pairing: Isaac layhey x reader

Summary: Isaac has been extra protective since you joined him in the supernatural world

Warnings: best friends to lovers, protective Isaac, sweetheart Isaac

AN: whoever requested this i want to give you a kiss because i love Isaac so much, he was so adorable and not talked about enough throughout the teen wolf fandom. Also this may be really long so bear with me here.

Isaac is your best friend, or was, about seven months ago he decided to drop you with no warning and joined the group of kids that everyone wanted to be apart of led by Scott McCall. You’d be lying if you said you werent completely broken by it, but you accepted it. You guessed after his dad died he decided he’d shed his old life and make a new one. He also had began dressing and acting different. He had this strong aura around him, he was confident and it showed. You were happy for him, that he gained himself a new family, you just wished he’d taken you with him.

that leads you to today, it was raining lightly and you were still getting used to walking home from school alone, even though after all of this time you should be, you weren’t. You and Isaac had been walking home together since first grade when you moved to beacon hills and befriended the boy two houses down. You were walking past the animal clinic when you heard something ruffle behind you, you quickly turned around and squinted trying to see what you could, but after a couple of seconds of nothing you turned back a round and resumed your walk. Why you decided not to bring your bike today? You didn’t know but now you were cursing at yourself for the stupid idea. You heard another ruffle behind you but it seemed closer, you turned around again but saw nothing. But you heard it, it was something big and its breathing was heavy. Almost dog like.

‘Hello?” You called out, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the rain, “look whoever you are this isn’t funny” you shouted, people in school, specifically Jackson loved to torment you now that you were alone almost 99% of the time. You quickly turned around and continued walking with a faster pace, deciding against the cliche horror movie following the sound move. A knot grew in your throat as you tried to conceal your anxiety.

Then out of nowhere you heard another growl from right behind you. You didn’t take the time to turn around and look that time, you just took off in a sprint. You only made it a couple of steps before you slipped, no thanks to the slippery ground. You hit her head pretty hard, all of a sudden a huge animal like figure was standing above you huffing, almost angrily, your breathing picked up but you couldn’t move. It was like you’d been glued to the ground. The animal circled your trembling form, you hoped that if you didn’t make any move the animal wouldn’t consider you a threat and leave.

You quickly figured out you were wrong, because after thirty seconds of circling you the animal bit you on her leg, you let out the most blood curdling scream as the animal ran off back into the woods. You sat up looking at your now blood covered leg, the shock suddenly hit you and everything went black.

You woke up to an intense pounding in your head, and the bright light shining above You did not help. “Christ” you muttered covering your eyes with your hand, only then did you feel the burning in your leg. You hissed, suddenly moving to grab at the injury, “you might not want to do that” a voice spoke entering the room startling you. “Sorry it was time for me to feed the animals”. It was the man you had known to own the animal clinic, suddenly confused you sat up. “Am i in the animal clinic?” You asked tilting your head. The man nodded before turning around and grabbing a bottle of pills handing them to you “should help with the pain” he said. Still confused you spoke “is this not for animals?” You asked. The man paused “you’ll soon find that my specialties lie beyond animals. I’m deaton by the way.” He said “take those and here is a water. I have a phone call to make. What is your name, may i ask?” He said handing you a small bottle of water. You eyed the pill bottle suspiciously “y/n, y/n l/n” you said. The man nodded walking out of the room, you guessed to go make the phone call.

‘what the hell’ you thought, before downing the pill. Anyone would’ve called you crazy for trusting the guy but you didn’t care, you had just experienced the most terrifying thing ever and you were in pain and desperate.

You sat in the room alone fore a round 25 minuted before you heard three new voices, which you recognized fairly well. You hopped off the table and snuck into the next room, careful not to put too much weight on your injured leg. In the room stood Scott stiles and… Isaac. All four of the men stopped conversing when Scott made eye contact with you over deaton’s shoulder. At the sudden silence deaton turned around toward where the boys were looking and saw you standing in the door way. “Y/n id like you to meet-“ “i know who they are” you cut him off. You tilted your head “i don’t understand why are they here?” You asked, eyeing Isaac who wouldn’t even meet your gaze. “Y/n we should talk.” Scott said taking a careful step towards you. You nodded “okay.” You complied. “you might wanna sit down” stiles said pointing to the row of chairs.

With the help of Scott you were able to do so with no casualties. The three boys sat down in front of you. “Okay” Scott spoke. “What happened to you today is gonna change you. For the better or worse is your decision. It’s gonna make you faster, see better and hear better. Along with some other things” Scott trailed off. You took in what he was saying, “is it what happened to you two?” You asked pointing at Scott and Isaac. They both pulled surprised faces, while stiles looked offended “wait why wouldn’t you assume it happened to me?” Stiles asked. You looked at him as if he was crazy “they randomly got good at lacrosse. You still… suck to say the least” you said. Stiles squinted at you eyes twitching. Scott cut stiles off before he could cause a scene. “Yes thats what happened to us” he answered, you nodded. “Wait am i like a, vampire or something?” You asked, dread filling her veins. Scott glance at Isaac, confused on why you were so cool about it who shrugged. “Uh yeah, something like that but more animal..ly” he said. “oh so like a werewolf” you said. He nodded.

after they finished giving you the rundown and was shocked at how well you took it they offered you a ride home and of course after the day you had, you accepted. The two boys in the front chatted mindlessly as if this was a normal occasion but you could practically feel the anger radiating off of Isaac. Which was funny to you because last time you checked, you were the one that should’ve been mad.

When you arrived at home you thanked them and hopped out sparing a glance at Isaac before closing the door door and walking away. What you missed was Scott basically forcing him to go talk to you, so when you heard the car door open and close again then quickly drive off you turned around confused until you saw the blonde curly headed boy. You waited for him to reach you before silently entering your house, inviting him in.

You went to your room and Isaac almost timidly followed you “You know you don’t have to stay with me out of pity” you said. He sighed entering your room, noting the small changes that’d been made “it’s not pity y/n” he said eyeing your picture collage that surprisingly hadn’t changed at all. You squinted “no? Then what is it? Guilt?” You said.

After all this time you thought you weren’t angry, but now that he was standing in your face, you were angrier than ever. “Me getting bit is what it took for you to finally look in my direction again is that it?” You took a step forward. Isaac averted his gaze to his shoes . “I was trying to protect you.” He quietly spoke. You let out a laugh “protect me? Well you did a great job at that, look at me now i have a bite on my leg that i don't even know if ill live from, and if i do i just so happen to ill have creatures and people trying to cut me in half or rip my heart out so thank you for ‘protecting me’” you said sarcastically.

”it wasn't supposed to be like this” he said finally looking you in your eye. “well tell me what was it supposed to be like Isaac?” You asked getting louder. “not like this y/n, you weren’t supposed to get involved in this life” he matched your volume. “Right and completely cutting me from your life was the best way to go about that” You shouted, your heart began to race and the anger in your chest began to fester like it was burning your skin. Isaac’s eyes widened “y/n calm down” he stated carefully. You glared at him “no i don't think i will” you said stalking forward. Isaac quickly grabbed you and before you had any chance to retaliate he turned you to face the mirror you had on your wall. Your eyes were glowing a bright orange, the shock hit you like a ton of bricks and the glow immediately disappeared. “What the hell? Do yours do that?” You asked him, Isaac stood behind you wide eyed “yeah, but not that color” he answered. You turned around in confusion “what do you mean?” You asked. “I think we should call Derek” he said pulling his phone out of his pocket “hale?” You asked incredulously. He nodded.

‘what the hell’

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Kinktober Day 22 - Breeding Kink

Pairing: 69!Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.1K

TWs: Breeding kink, slightly dom Elvis, reader calls Elvis daddy.

Kinktober masterlist

The door closes with a clunk. 

“Elvis?” You call out from the kitchen. 

You’ve been baking all day, and you’re covered in flour. 

“Hey baby.”

He strides purposefully into the kitchen, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“How was your day?” You ask, turning towards him and wiping the flour off your hands and onto your apron as best you can. He’s dressed so well today you’re worried about messing him up, but he keeps walking towards you regardless. 

“Fantastic,” he replies, one finger tilting your chin up so that he can kiss your lips. 

You smile. “Oh, so the hotel looked good then?”

He nods. “Saw the building site, signed the contract.” He tilts his head to the side a little. “Well, not the real contract. But signed the one for the cameras anyway. Daddy’s going to be playing Vegas.”

You bite your lip, noting the name. “That’s exciting.”

“It’s more than exciting, baby.” 

He kisses you again, pulling you into his arms as his tongue pushes past your unresisting lips. Your arms automatically go around his neck, body pressing against his even though you know you’re going to ruin his suit with all the flour. You feel his erection pressing against you and it makes your heart beat faster.

“This is the start of something incredible,” he continues, kissing and nipping at your neck now. “Time to celebrate.”

“Elvis, I’m covering you in flour and I’ve got biscuits in the oven…” you start, but he silences you with another passionate kiss and you feel yourself melting again. 

“I don’t care. You’re mine and I want you now.”

He stares down at you so intensely you think you might pass out. He’s always been beautiful, but today he looks almost otherworldly.

You nibble on your lower lip again and nod. “Yes, Daddy.”

He taps your thigh and you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. He grunts at the feeling and the sudden extra weight, his hands underneath your ass, then captures your lips in another kiss. You drag your fingers through his hair, pulling it a little as he starts to walk towards the stairs that lead straight from the kitchen to your bedroom. He moans into your mouth. He’s so hard he doesn’t know if he’s going to make it up the stairs, he really wants you right this minute. He staggers up a few stairs and then stops. 

“Can’t wait,” he mumbles against your lips, by way of explanation, setting you down on the carpeted stairs and pressing his body into yours. 

Your hands move quickly to try and undo his belt and pants as his pull at your skirt and panties feverishly. You both moan and wriggle, kissing each other sloppily as he gets rid of your panties and you free his dick. Pulling back just enough to line himself up with your entrance, his impatience gets the better of him and he pushes inside in one movement, making you gasp. He manages to pause for long enough to look at your face and ask if you’re okay. 

You nod quickly. “Mmm.”

“Good. Because Daddy really can’t wait.”

He pulls back and thrusts into you, hard, and you moan as he hits somewhere deep inside. It’s sore but it feels so good. He keeps fucking you, picking up a steady rhythym, groaning at how tight you are around him. 

“Daddy’s gonna be the biggest star in Vegas, baby,” he tells you, grabbing one of your legs and putting it on his shoulder, driving his dick even deeper inside you. 

“Mmm. Yes, Daddy.”

He grins. He loves it when you get like this. So amenable. 

“Gonna make so much money.”

“Mmmmm.”

“Gonna…be…the…biggest…star…in…the…world…” he punctuates each word with a thrust and your eyes roll back in your head. 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You wanna fuck the biggest star in the world, baby?”

He’s starting to sweat and it stands out on his forehead as he stares down at you. 

“Mmmm. Yes.”

“You want the biggest star in the world to cum inside you, baby?”

“Yessss,” you hiss as his hand snakes around your wrist, pinning it above your head as he pounds you. 

“You want me to put a baby inside you?”

The sweat is running down his face now, his eyes are insistent. He's never thought like this before but suddenly it's all he wants. 

“Please, Daddy.” You can’t help the little moan that escapes after you reply, thinking about what he just said. 

“You want that?” He demands again, his hand moving from your wrist to your throat.

“Yes!”

“Good. Because I’m gonna keep fucking you and cumming inside that pretty pussy of yours until I get what I want.”

Your eyes go wide at his show of dominance, he’s rutting into you, your back hurts and your head hurts and to be honest your pussy hurts from the onslaught, but it’s turning you on so much you don’t care. You moan and writhe underneath him.

“Please, Daddy. Want your baby inside me.”

He growls, letting your throat go as he slams into you one final time, enjoying the feeling of actually cumming inside you. His hips stutter a few more times and then he collapses on top of you, breathing hard. 

“Shit,” he mutters.

Your hands run all over his body, you’re still so turned on you can’t stop touching him. Your clit feels swollen and you’re desperate for your own release, rolling your hips against him, trying to get contact. Eventually he comes to and realises what you’re doing. 

“Shit. Sorry, baby.”

He pulls out and rolls to the side of you, moving his fingers to your clit. It doesn’t take much, he rubs it quickly, kissing your neck tenderly until you’re tumbling over the edge to oblivion too. You lie there together, a tangled mess on the stairs, until finally you get the energy to speak. 

“Didn’t know I was so into that.”

He chuckles and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips. “Me either.”

You look at him steadily, trying to read his expression. “You really want a baby?” You ask, finally.

“Yeah, I really do.” He pauses for a moment, actually thinking about it now he's not in the heat of the moment anymore. “Everything's going so good baby, a little Presley running around the place would really top it off nicely.”

You giggle. “Well that sure would be cute. You really going to keep fucking me and cumming inside me until you get what you want?”

Elvis blushes, giggling and pressing his forehead against yours. “Might’ve got a bit carried away, baby.”

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, giggling too. “No, I liked it. And I want you to keep going until we get what we both want.”

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[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 14. cum bulge

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “stuffed like a present”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ mountain wants to give you something that’ll leave you completely filled

pairing: mountain ghoul x afab!reader

a/n: this one is so ass forgive me 💀 sorry if it seems repetitive compared to my other prompts

cw: nsfw content. cum bulge. overstimulation. multiple rounds. knotting (?). bondage with vines.

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“yeah… you see that? that was all me. you look so good with my cum stuffing your insides.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“mmh fuck… oh you like that… hm?”

“a-ahh… this is like the fourth time in a row you’ve made me cum.”

“good.”

before you could reply, a sudden hip thrust into your core was enough to make you whine and clamp your mouth shut. your eyes were filled with stars, glittering with pure lust as you looked up at a certain earth ghoul, who was responsible for making you feel this good.

mountain grinned, and slammed his cock into your cervix again, to which in response you let out a loud whimper, eyes fluttering shut in the process. currently, you found yourself tangled up in the drummer’s sheets. his ghoul powers were active, summoning long, thin vines to keep you locked in place while he went to town on you, restraining your ankles and wrists. mountain was feeling rather… generous today. this year, he wanted to give you an extra special present this year, one that you will remember forever.

so of course, that idea of an extra special present involved strapping you down to his bed, and cumming inside of your tight cunt over and over again, each load of cum painting your insides white and gradually making you more stuffed with his seed.

you just writhed against his grip, body instinctively twitching from the amount of hard orgasms you just had, leaving you sweaty and out of breath. you felt the wind get knocked out of your lungs briefly when mountain slowly started thrusting again, forcing you to take another one of his loads.

“m-mountain… fuck— how much stamina do you have..? i don’t know if i can last another round.” you rasped out, and mountain only winked at your fucked out expression.

“i can go all night long if i want to, babe.” he grunted, thrusts gradually growing more forceful, rocking the bed with the strength of his hip movements. “but i’m nice… so i’ll make this our last one.”

your eyes visibly relaxed when you heard this, as you were sure that if you went for a few more rounds, you’d black out.

“oh thank satan— a-aahhh!!”

your quick celebration was then interrupted by a sudden, forceful thrust which turned into a series of rough thrusts, caused the headboard of the bed to slam into the wall while mountain fucked you with no mercy. your eyes widened with shock, and your choked up voice quickly melted into pleasured, overstimulated moans.

“s-shit! ahh! mountain!” you cried out, trying to grip the sheets to maintain some sort of balance, but mountain was relentless.

“since this is our last round for the night…” mountain grunted out, fangs bearing as he thrusted harder and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your thigh pussy with ease.

“i’ll end it all off with a bang.”

his thrusts only got more rough and forceful, each time his cock hit a certain spot inside of you that had you squealing over and over. you could feel the cum from the previous orgasms get pushed all the way back inside of you.

you couldn’t stop making such pleasured noises, and mountain was enjoying every last second of it.

“fuccck. you feel it? you feel my cum pushing inside of your tight womb?” mountain groaned, his large hands moving to press against your stomach.

your eyes fluttered open, and widened when met with the sight in front of you. your tummy had a bulge on it, and mountain pressing his palm against the little bump on your stomach only had you squirming and seeing stars.

“yeah… you see that? that was all me. you look so good with my cum stuffing your insides.” mountain praised, driving his cock deeper inside of you to feel every last inch of your tightness clamping around his cock.

“a-ahhh!”

“hmmm.. seems like you like it as much as i do.”

you could only nod your head mindlessly and let out more pleasured, high pitched noises as you neared your climax, feeling mountain’s cock throbbing inside you intensely, also signaling his upcoming release.

mountain groaned and moved his head down to bite your neck, whispering into your skin.

“ohhh yeaahh. fuck i’m so close. m’gonna make you catch onto my knot and take my seed like a good toy.” mountain whispered lewdly, which only made you tighten around his shaft.

your hands writhed against the vines restraining you, and you cried out: “fuck! i’m gonna cum too!”

mountain moaned in response. “then cum with me, darling.”

like it was on command, your body shook wildly as you came hard all over mountain’s cock. the earth ghoul also moaned loudly as he released thick ropes of cum deep within you.

both of you panted heavily, and mountain slowly pulled out, smirking when he heard you whine from the emptiness. he looked down, and saw his and your cum dribble out of your tight hole.

“fuck. that’s so hot.” he cursed, and you panted heavily in response.

you were completely spent, having gone multiple rounds with this ghoul. you thought it would never end, but alas.

mountain chuckled at your fucked out expression, and caressed your cheek with his hand. he moved it up to your forehead, and moved your hair out of the way to get a better look at you.

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, before speaking.

“good little plaything.”

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[gnocchibabie]

Target Practice

author's note: this is my first piece of writing I have ever put out into the world hahah ok bye <3

“600 yards out,” Price’s sudden words almost break your focus “3 notches up, about two to the left accounting for the wind.” he instructs as you stare down the scope of your rifle, looking for the next target. They’ve been getting smaller and smaller as your training progressed and you were struggling to find this last one. Finally, your eyes land on the red balloon.

It smiled back at you.

“Cute,” you chuckle at the poorly drawn smiley face decorating your unfortunate target, “Is that your handiwork or Gaz’s?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Price responds coyly.

You scoff, lining up the shot. The happy balloon swung right and left, fighting against the wind that was now picking up. “Might wanna go three to the left, love” Price suggested. 

“Right,” you say, trying not to give much thought to the name - and how your captain had been using it more and more often. 

You’re finally satisfied with how you’ve lined up your shot. Three up, three left.

You squeeze your finger and feel the butt of the gun kick into your shoulder.

The bullet hits the ground a foot away from the balloon, kicking dust into the wind. The balloon smiles back at you, taunting your marksmanship. 

“Damn” you whisper. 

“S’alright” Price says. It’s not, you scold yourself and line up your shot again. He hears this thought. “Really Y/N, take your time.”

The balloon’s bobbing slows and you feel the wind calm. Readjusting your shot, you feel more confident this bullet will land right between its squiggly sharpie black eyes. The pad of your pointer finger rubs the cold trigger. 

Squeeze.

You see red rubber erupt and flitter off into the air, the wind once again picking up as if it had patiently waited for you to finish shooting the unsuspecting balloon in cold blood. “There you go, love - dropped ‘em!” you finally take your eyes away from the rifle and look at John, offering you a smile. “Or should I say “popped ‘em,” he jokes. Lame, you think to yourself; although you fight back a smile. You don’t miss the warmth that spreads throughout your chest, and fear it creeps into your cheeks. You shake your head, “Should’ve gotten it the first time,” you quip back and begin to stand. Rising, your legs ache from having been lying prone for so long.

Dismantling the rifle, you begin to return it to its case when you feel a hand land on your shoulder. 

Squeeze.

“That’s what practice is for.” your captain reassures you. You knew you were being hard on yourself - in reality you were a great shot. Your skills and potential as a sniper are what had led Laswell to pick up your file months before. She had observed you in action before recommending you to Price, adamant that you would be a great fit on the team and prove to be a useful asset. Amazingly to you, he seemed to agree. It’s why you were receiving this extra training, courtesy of Price himself. You were only embarrassed because you had missed in front of your captain. Who definitely did not make you nervous. 

“Yeah” you respond lamely, latching the case shut, throwing it over your shoulder, and turning to walk back to base. Price sighs, “Y/N.”

Oh no, you thought, he’s using his captain's voice.

You turn around to face him and your eyes meet. “What’s going on with you today? Been quiet. Been a bit off…” John trails off, unsure of how much he should say. “I know I was a little hard on you the other day-”

You cut him off before he can continue. The last thing you wanted was for him to believe that he had done something wrong - something to upset you. “No! No,” you respond quickly “you didn’t do anything - besides, I need to hear that stuff from you - during training. It’s what makes me better.” you see the corners of his mouth quirk up for a moment and you continue. “Sometimes…I just…wonder if I’m worthy of being on this team. I feel like I’m dragging behind. You’re all more experienced. You’ve all been doing this stuff longer…don’t wanna drag everyone down with me…” you finish your rant quietly. You don’t want to meet Price’s gaze and focus on a patch of dirt near your feet, convinced it’s suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world. His soft laughter breaks your concentration. 

“You need to get out of that head of yours love - you are not dragging us - me, down,” it is not lost on you how Price made it a point to emphasize himself. Maybe you really were in your head too much. Price continues, “We help you because we want to. Help you because we have been doing this longer. We know what you’re about to deal with on this mission and want you to be as ready and prepared as you can be. Can’t have anything happening to you can we?” He grows more stern at the end of his explanation and you can’t help the smile forming on your face. 

“Yeah, because I’m so valuable-”

“You are.”

Your laughter ceases and smile quickly leaves your face. Your eyes rake over Price’s face, serious as ever. Tension looms in the air over you two and your throat goes dry. “I mean it,” your captain doubles down. His eyes poured into yours. You were suddenly very aware of the flush spreading across your face and the way your mouth parted slightly at his words. “Understood,” you reply breathlessly, “...thank you, Captain.”

A beat of silence rings out between you two as you soak in each other’s words and stare into the other’s eyes.

“And don’t you forget it.” Price breaks the silence, his tone a bit more playful now as he takes the rifle case from your hands and begins down the path leading back to base. You jog after him, telling him you’re perfectly capable of carrying your own gun all while he chuckles. 

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | todoroki s.

Todoroki’s route of soulmate trope.

Wow, you sure seem to be injuring yourself more than usual. That can't be related to anything significant.

warnings: extremely mild self-harm. secondhand embarrassment.

~11k words. Female reader.

When you’d first woken up in Recovery Girl’s office after inhaling the pink dust, you’d had a massive headache. You’d not recalled hitting your head in the first place, and though Recovery Girl had been able to heal all of your other wounds from the attack, the headache had remained.

 It still ached.

 Now it didn’t feel as intense as a migraine, and instead it had settled and cosied into a topical, surface-level sort of pain, and though it certainly hurt less, it didn’t mean you could ignore it.

 Constant, unignorable pain throbbed throughout your head, practically in miniscule, irksome waves (world’s worst beach). If you really concentrated on something, then you could numb yourself to the pain and almost zone out of it.

 You spoke to Recovery Girl about living with chronic pain, since she couldn’t heal you, and after spending time in office hours with her, you deduced that the pain most likely had to do with your soulmate. Somehow. Maybe when you first meet your soulmate, he’ll punch you in the face?

 But then, randomly, while you were baking in the dorm, your calf felt like it was burning, fucking boiling, and you plopped to the kitchen floor, rolling up your jeans to expose the area—to reveal completely unaltered skin with no suggestion of a blemish or wound. Yet it was scorching, and running it under water didn’t help whatsoever; the burning continued for around fifteen minutes—and you were biting your lips so hard that it bled, clutching your calf and sobbing silently on the floor in the dorm kitchen. Until it somewhat subsided—a sudden sensation of ice pressing against it.

 When it was over, the pain lingered without scar, and it had you hiding a limp as you walked to class.

 From then on, you took extra care to keep your body from physical harm. Being overly cautious in hero training (hindering your offensive moves, to be honest), staying in your dorm instead of going out, eating foods that weren’t difficult to digest, frequenting Recovery Girl to talk—which really cut into your time working with Present Mic on his radio show, but he waved it off.

 The odd nick and cut still showed up, mostly on your hands. Shinsou asked if you’d adopted a cat, and you wished. Instead, you’ve got a soulmate who may be trying to kill you.

 ***

 Aizawa was leading you up the bleachers to the commentators’ box when it struck you that you were an idiot.

 “I’m an idiot,” you said, smacking a hand to your forehead and stopping with one foot halfway up the next stair.

 Brow furrowed, Aizawa looked over his shoulder, opened his mouth, closed it, and kept digging in his pockets for the box keys. “So long as you’re not an idiot on mic, I think you’ll be fine,” he said, once he’d jammed the key into the lock.

 “No, Aizawa-sensei, I’m a big idiot,” you said, walking through the box door he held open and ran a hand through your hair, “I think I’ve just realised something about my soulmate bond.”

 Aizawa got to work flipping on lights and the sound system. “Do you need to go to Recovery Girl or sit out this practise?”

 “Ah, hm.” You bit the inside of your cheek and unfolded the chair, setting it in front of the primary microphone. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got to work through a few things, but, uh. I can still commentate.”

 “All right,” he said, nodding, “Yamada-sensei wants you to make your fight narrative more focused—more description of what’s actually happening rather than speculation, even though he should be working on that himself.” Aizawa tossed the keys on the desk next to the stadium light system controls, and he headed for the door. “Try not to swear on mic this time.”

 “Wait, Aizawa-sensei? Who’s working camera today?”

 His hand paused on the door handle. “Should be Monoma and Ashido.”

 “Cool. Thanks,” you said, shooting him a thumbs-up as he left. Monoma and Mina working camera—that means you’ll get lots of close-ups looking for faults from Monoma and wide-angle, big-picture shots from Mina—though she should give up on the Dutch angles. Fine. That’s a fine balance.

 After checking the lights and sound system, you turned the knob for the primary microphone (volume way down from where Yamada-sensei liked it). “Greetings and salutations, sports fans—” You liked to start off your commentary with a little joke, since it was just 3-A and 3-B listening, and not even all of them at that—supplementary training didn’t scratch everyone’s backs. “—once again coming to you from a cramped, commentary box, we are live in our commentary of our first team battles of the semester. Right now, if we focus on the playing field in front of us, you’ll see nothing, as everyone is still getting costumes on and not even outside yet. But we wait in salivary anticipation as our fellow students enter the stadium to discover what teams they’ll be playing on. Until then, please enjoy these sounds of ambient nature.”

 You turned off the microphone and sat back in your folding chair. Announcing for an empty stadium—besides Aizawa, you supposed, as he trudged back down to the field—was when you got your warm-up, testing out what sort of adjectives you’re feeling today. As Yamada-sensei advised, your goal was always to make Aizawa cringe. Frankly, you thought you got there with the usage of salivary, but—

 You’re an idiot.

 Use this time to think about your soulmate, dipshit.

 Connecting the dots took playing an otome game under your desk in the previous class. In it, the heroine was patching up the route’s love interest after a gunfight, and amidst the florid (but fluttery), cheesy (but so cute!) prose about feelings and his rippling pectorals, there had been a line about how the heroine loved him so much that it was as if she could feel the gunshot through her own tit.

 Well, she didn’t say tit, but—the point—

 Feeling his physical pain. Sharing it.

 It made a hell of a lot more sense than whoever-he-was punching you in the face when you first met. It would explain the frequent injuries—why they kept coming over and over—along with why the pain kept coming, since hero course idiots like yourself hurt yourselves almost constantly. For a moment, you considered punching your soulmate when you met him, as a joke, but then—you’d feel it, too, most likely. Really, you’d like to find some industrial strength painkillers for the both of you. This ache pulsing in your head—his head—needed to be alleviated.

 So, now, the plan: hurt yourself in very specific ways so that your soulmate has the same injuries. And, judging by how you’ve got a perfect view of all your classmates, complete with camera zoom, you’re in a good spot for it.

 You flipped the microphone knob again. “As the first of our classmates who have perfected the art of getting in costume walk onto the field, allow me to remind you that I am filling in for our glorious and verbose sensei, Presentation Michael, for totally unbiased commentary on today’s matches.”

 Grinning, you stuck your tongue out at Bakugou, even though he couldn’t see you. He’d shot the commentary box a disgusted look and had shaken his head, hanging off to the side of the field with Kirishima and Sero.

 When teams were announced, you decided you’d hurt yourself then when their attention was definitely on something else, and therefore, they’d react genuinely to the pain. Sweet. Solid plan.

 Wait, how are you going to hurt yourself? It can’t be too bad, because 1) that’d be mean, and 2) you also have to concentrate enough to see how everyone reacts. Eh, you’ll wing it.

 “Now that all of those participating in the team battles are prepared and on the field waiting for assignments,” you said, pulling the mic towards you and zooming in on the bottom of your system screen, “we all wait for our brilliant, talented, eclectic, beautiful sensei to get off his phone to announce the teams.”

 Stowing away his phone, Aizawa addressed the group, and you sat on the edge of your seat, your hand raised (for what?). “Team one,” said Aizawa, “is Asui—”

 Okay, she’s got a soulmate—

 “—and Bakugou.”

 You slapped yourself across the face, hard.

 Whimpering, you clutched the spot while hunching over in your stupid folding chair, missing Aizawa’s explanation of why they were paired together, and goddamn it, you missed Bakugou’s reaction. Footage, footage, yeah; there’s footage. You’re filming for Yamada-sensei. You’ll review it later—no! You want to know now!

 “Team two,” said Aizawa.

 You snapped back upright, blearily making yourself focus on the what’s going on down there and giving your cheekbone a final, indignant swipe. You raised your hand again, the opposite one this time.

 “Team two is Ojiro—”

 Safe. He’s matched.

 “—and Shinsou.”  

 You hit your other cheek, this time bracing yourself and clenching your teeth. Cursing yourself immediately afterwards—because if you don’t feel the pain, nor will he. Fuck.

 “Team three is—”

 Oh, God.

 “—Hagakure and Yaoyorozu.”

 Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do this.

 Amendment: you can do this well and correctly.

 Two more teams until you facepalmed so hard that you had a red splot on your forehead. Another two until you thought you’d bitten the tip of your tongue off (idiot!). Then four unmatched people all in a row led to four slams of your funny bone right onto the edge of the desk.

 Gasping, wheezing, and cradling your arm, you bitterly shook your head as the teams took their places, either on field or in the dugout. It just wasn’t fair, but you piddled it all into your jar of petty emotions and would have to deal with it later, since you were working.

 “Our first two-on-two battle for the morning is team seven, Kendo and Komori, versus team ten, Kirishima and Shoda, making for a battle centring around close melee combat, so long as you can keep breathing—teams two and eight on deck.” You zoned out enough to commentate without zest and flair (which went against your morals, but still) but still throw your mind elsewhere.

 Ugh, well. Your soulmate didn’t react to a single fucking thing, provided he was somewhere in the crowd. Either your soulmate gets off on being beaten up, or you’re wrong about the soulmate method, or he… You frowned, but you tried not to let it creep into your voice as you commentated. If you’re not wrong and he’s not into getting hurt sexually, then…then your soulmate is so used to pain that it’s become normal to him. That physical pain is just part of his everyday life.

 You rubbed at your eye, where a good bit of the constant headache settled. This was shit, and you’d only been living with it for a few weeks. If your soulmate lived with this constantly, well, then—step one, wrap him in blanket. Step two: kiss on forehead. Step three: hot choccy for the boy.

 Oh, shit, you’re working.

 “And that’s Tokoyami coming in for the final swoop,” you found yourself saying, “Can’t get it, can’t get it? And he does, swiping the feet out from underneath Jirou there, meaning that Tokoyami is the last one standing. Team Four wins!” You sat back in your chair, flicking off the knob so that you could huff agitatedly. A fair number of matches had gone by in a blip, and you didn’t even know what you’d said. Well, Aizawa hadn’t stormed up here telling you to stop cursing, so you supposed you’d been doing an acceptable job.

 “Next up, next up! Team one versus team nine, Asui and Bakugou versus Kouda and Todoroki. Judging by the patterns on Asui’s offence, we can—”

 God, your head hurts.

 “Aaaaand there’s Bakugou, Bakugou with the advantage, Bakugou with an overarching sweep shot, using the weight of his gauntlet as a crushing weapon in addition to that blast. Oof, ouch, scorching Kouda just over on his—”

 You made your mouth run a mile a minute, making yourself focus on the match instead of your soulmate and the ache.

 “Asui comes from below with the first true ranged attack of the match, but it doesn’t look like it hit its target; Todoroki managed to slip past yet again—”

 Blinking to stave away the irritation, you gave up and rubbed at your eye. It’s like it was getting worse, like, uh, you didn’t know—like smoke was rising into it.

 “It’s a close, close match; so far it could be anyone’s game, and, and Todoroki lands a focused ice strike to Bakugou’s core. He’s doubled over, taking a moment to threaten Todoroki—psychological warfare against your opponent in addition to physical, sometimes uncouth but still a worthy tactic, especially if it—oh, he’s—Bakugou’s shot a pissbaby look towards the commentary box, but he’s winding up and going for Todo—oh, Kouda! No, no, it's a feint; Bakugou was feinting—”

 And instead of inhaling, you screamed, louder than you ever have in your life, at the same time an A.P. shot burst into Todoroki’s stomach from less than a foot away.

 Like your skin melting and reforming on a fresh skeleton, like nothing mattered between here and now and when but this burn, feeling nothing—no extremities, no celebrealities to take yourself away—nothing but this agony scorching its way through your stomach and cutting into you below your ribcage.

 As you lay crumpled on your back on the floor (when did you get there?), it far outweighed the ache on the left side of your face, and you woozily blinked through a few images that smeared together: the shitty fluorescents above you (too bright—you tried to hold a hand up to block them out, but you couldn’t lift your hand), Aizawa bursting through the box door to kneel next to you, and someone’s hands on you while you shuffled about on a thrilling variety of hard surfaces.

 ***

 You woke up with a dry mouth in Recovery Girl’s office. Been a while since you’ve been in one of the hospital beds; you’re even tucked in, and shit, and ooh, ouch, oof, don’t sit up so fast. It makes your stomach—oh my god TODOROKI.

 Where is the fucker? Where’s that handsome basta—ah. The bed next to you. Reading some shonen manga you didn’t recognise.

 You tried to be stealthy when you flipped onto your side to face him, but you couldn’t escape the involuntary grunt of pain.

 Todoroki’s eyes flicked to you, holding his book still.

 “Hi,” you said, swinging your legs around to dangle them off the side of the bed, “I think we should make out.”

 Todoroki blinked. Twice. He reached for his bookmark and started to rise from the hospital bed.

 “What? Where are you go—jokes. It was a joke,” you said, watching with horror as he stood and walked away from the patient area, “I’ve got jokes all week. I’ve got jokes forever.” Your voice died out when he filled a paper cup at the sink, and Todoroki returned steadily towards you to hand you the cup. His fingers grazed yours, and you jolted, though Todoroki, cool as you please, merely blinked sleepily.

 He gave a careful nod towards it. “Drink. You were breathing through your mouth while you slept.”

 Oh, God, did that count as pain and therefore transfer to him? Did—nope, you’re not going to worry about that. There are worse things. You brought the cup to your lips to stifle the impulse to ask him to spit in your mouth.

 After a few swallows, you—fuck, he’s too close and too good-looking to look him in the eye for this—stared into your water and said, “So. We’re soulmates. Have you told Recovery Girl yet?”

  “We’re soulmates?” asked Todoroki, sounding alarmed.

 Your head whipped towards him, and his (fucking gorgeous) eyes widened, his broad shoulders stiff. Good God, he didn’t know, and now he’s going to be fucking repulsed by you. He deserves someone cooler, more graceful, more—

 Todoroki cautiously sat near you on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight, and your brain emptied. He was so close; you could feel his excessive warmth coming from his left side, and he’s so fucking—he. He could take that elegant hand between you on the mattress and wrap it around your shoulders right now, pulling you close with those lean, lithe muscles, and oh, God, he could make you feel so safe—

 And.

 Fuck.

 Since your first year, you’ve acknowledged in the back of your head that Todoroki was essentially the ideal man (complete with power and talent and a gentleness that aches), but since he’s liked by basically anyone with sense in the school, you’ve packed any shred of affection away, folding it into a cardboard box and shoving it into the back of your mental closet.

 It feels like the box has spontaneously combusted.

 But no, fuck, you saw that look on his face. He doesn’t want you—and that makes sense, since…y’know. You’re you. You haven’t attracted anyone—God, how embarrassing that the only way someone is going to look at you potentially romantically is from a fucking soulmate accident.

 Todoroki shifted, his expression taut. “How do you know we’re soulmates?”

 Right. He’d like to get out of it. You won’t lie to him. “By the way we’ve been sharing each other’s pain,” you said with a sigh, “Didn’t you notice we’re in Recovery Girl’s office for the same injury? Getting hit by Bakugou? And…and you must have burnt your calf a few weeks ago; that had me collapsing in the dorm kitchen and overcooking my eggs, and you’ve got this nasty, constant headache, which has got to be—” You were going to say aggravating, but you realised it yourself when you looked back at him. “—your scar.”

 His brow furrowed in thought, Todoroki tapped his fingers on his thigh, and he nodded.

 “Hang on,” you said, screwing up your face, “I was—I kept hitting myself during the team selection, trying to find you. You never reacted.”

 Todoroki turned his head towards you slowly, and under his slowly blinking gaze, you were frozen. “I didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary.”

 You let out a weak, incredulous laugh. “You didn’t think—didn’t you feel it?”

 Todoroki ducked his head, staring at his hand on your sheets. “Since the soulmate incident, my scar hasn’t hurt as much. The skin hasn’t been as sensitive, and I don’t get headaches as often. I’ve been able to concentrate. To relax.” He pinched the fabric and let it fall. “When I’ve trained, it’s as if I could go forever, as if the blows that fall don’t mean as much.” His eyes turned up to you again, pinning you. He’s got to stop doing that so suddenly. “It must have been you taking the pain away.”

 Huh. You hadn’t considered. “So, you think we’re splitting the pain between us, not that we just both feel the pain.”

 Todoroki nodded. “Look at how Bakugou hurt us. We should be much worse off from a close-range shot,” he said, raising the hem of his shirt.

 You slapped a hand over your eyes, taken off-guard by the abrupt reveal of the lower half of his tightly muscled abdomen, but you slotted your fingers to peek through. “You’re—you’re right,” you said, feeling saliva build in your mouth. You pulled the move into rubbing one of your eyes, the one that kind of itched—it’s the one with his scar. “Does your scar always itch like this?”

 He hummed. “Less now, but still enough.”

 Your hand fell to your lap. “Are you…always in pain? Does it always hurt?”

 “You can answer that.”

 Fuck. The school’s powerful, pretty boy lived in constant pain, and he never said a word. “May I ask how you got it? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 Todoroki was silent for a moment, and then he said, “Do you know about quirk marriages?”

 “Refresh me?”

 “Quirk marriages are arranged between those with compatible quirks to hopefully manipulate the quirks of their children. My father sought this,” said Todoroki, “and, he would argue, that he failed three times, until me. I was sick a lot, when he trained me. Mom would try to help, and he’d—” He cut himself off, pinching his lips together. “Anyway. My mom lived with the pressure until she couldn’t. She thought I was him, and she poured boiling water on me. She’s getting better now,” he said with finality, leaning back on his hands on the bed and kicking his legs out.

 Uh. Holy fuck. How do you respond to that?

 Present Mic was always emphasising the importance of word choice.

 Steeling yourself, you reached for one of his hands, taking it firmly, even though it threw him off balance for a moment. He adjusted quickly, his fingers easily guided by you to lace between yours. “Todoroki,” you said, making yourself stare him in his eyes, “Let’s kill your father.”

 His lips parted, Todoroki straightened himself hastily. He clamped his other hand over yours, and with a wide, earnest expression, he said, “We shall have a winter wedding.”

 You snorted and squeezed his hand (his hand! Which you were holding!). “Sure. Yeah, Todoro—”

 “Please call me Shouto,” he said, scooting closer to you on the bed and squeezing back, “I would like to hear your thoughts. Have you considered this before?”

 Killing Endeavour? Yeah. Who hasn’t? Ah, ha, hold up. Maybe that’s not a normal thought you should be having about one of the biggest heroes in—fuck it, he’s a rat bastard of an abusive father. Die, bitch.

 Still, it’s nice that Todoroki wanted this, too. Validating. “You wanna make an event out of it?”

 He smiled—and it’s so gentle in a charming sort of way that your first instinct is to turn away, like you’re not worthy to look at him. But hey, he’s yours to look at now.

 “Only if you want to,” he said, his soft grin only growing wider.

 “I do,” you said, and for some reason, at those words, Todoroki ducked his head, the tips of his ears very red.

  ***

 Bakugou shouted across the classroom door the moment you opened the door. “Back from the infirmary, motormouth? Can’t believe you fucking screeched over the intercom.”

 Kayama-sensei paused mid-lesson, her whip still pointing towards the board.

 “And what of it, Bakugou?” you asked, stepping forward so that Todoroki could close the door behind you. “Did I make you lose a match?”

 Bakugou gritted his teeth. “As if someone like you could make me lose a ma—”

 “I won my match,” said Todoroki, taking your hand in his large, calloused one. (You were very startled by the physical contact and stared down at your joined hands, as if you were noticing that you had fingers for the first time.)

 Bakugou scowled. “The fuck do you—”

 “Todoroki’s your soulmate?!” Mina slammed her fist on her desk. “I’m literally wet with envy!” Kirishima immediately stopped chewing on the end of his pencil and reached for her.

 Midnight couldn’t get the class to calm down for a while, but, you supposed, they needed the noise. Todoroki escorted you back to your desk (your eye twitched at the tenderness), and when he returned to sit at his own, he couldn’t stop smiling to himself.

 ***

 “So, you’re Shouto’s soulmate!” Fuyumi hugged you before you could toe off your shoes near the Todoroki threshold. “You’re just as lovely as he described. Please, come in.”

 You exchanged a curious glance with Shouto while you unfurled your scarf, and as he hung up your coat for you, he was looking at you with a nearly unbearable fondness. You had to look away, feeling the heat rush to your face. God. Nothing had even happened yet, and you were already fucking overwhelmed.

 Natsuo was out, so it was supposed to be just the three of you at dinner. It had been a while since you’d eaten in a traditional setting, since dorm living had you grazing and cooking simple meals for yourself most of the time, so you were watching Shouto closely for any way you could possibly fuck up—and he seemed to notice and started to make his movements more obvious. You wouldn’t admit it, but you couldn’t even recognise some of the gourmet dishes Fuyumi had cooked—but all of it was fucking scrumptious; you eventually found yourself unable to compliment her coherently, because it all devolved into variations of “I’m going to cry. I’m weeping. I’m. Crying. Crying forever. I’ve never wanted to marinate myself in a sauce before.” Since you worked with Present Mic, you would have been embarrassed for being so inarticulate, but Fuyumi and you had warmed up to each other easily. She made you feel at peace.

 Well, that’s good. At least there’s one safe family member for Shouto to be around.

 (You had already met his mother, albeit briefly. You had been freaking out about what kind of gift you should bring her for your first meeting, but Shouto had simply put his hand on the small of your back (!!!) and told you that you didn’t need to feel any pressure.

 “She’s going to love you,” he’d said into your ear on the train ride to the hospital.

 “But how do you know?” The cool of the tin of tea you’d gotten anyway had seeped through your mittens.

 You had heard the self-satisfaction creeping into his voice—it was light, but it was there.  “My mother tends to feel the same way I do about people.”

 Shouto hadn’t laughed when you’d stuttered your way through a feeble, flustered defence before giving up, but he hadn’t needed to. You could see it in his eyes.)

 When Fuyumi left for the kitchen near the end of the meal after making you promise to try on some rings that had belonged to their grandmother, you scooted closer to Shouto. “Your dad should be showing up soon, right?”

 He nodded, closing his eyes as he swallowed his mouthful of water. “It’s past time for his patrol to end.” He set his glass on the table with a muted clink. “Are you sure about this? If you would prefer, we can retreat to one of the back rooms, or we can go back to campus.”

 You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s good to meet the enemy, yes? Plus, if he’s lured into a false sense of security around me, then it’ll be easier to get physically close to him when we fucking kill him.”

 Shouto laughed through his nose at that, and his expression softened (really incredible how soft the man can get when everything about him is so sharp: sharp features [especially that high-bridged nose and the unfairly pretty cheekbones], sharp gaze that seemed to notice everything about you, sharp and deliberate gestures and movement—his body’s all sharp angles and hard lines, and—your gaze fell to those fucking sharp collarbones barely peeking out of his button-up. Funny how your mouth can start to fucking water when you’ve just eaten Fuyumi’s cooking). Shouto propped an elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his fist, and he reached for your hand, hesitating just before touching it.

 When you nodded, he let out a heavy sigh and took it—for a moment you felt his normal body temperature before he began to heat his hand for your benefit. “He’s not going to like you,” Shouto said after a moment, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve whatever he’s going to say to you.”

 “Whatever he chooses to say will not affect me in the long run. I don’t need him to like me,” you said, proud of being able to speak while making physical contact.

 Shouto visibly swallowed (Ad—Adam’s apple…), his brow furrowed in thought.

 “What I do need,” you said, sitting up straighter, “is for him to not think of me as any sort of legitimate threat. That way he’ll let me get close enough to shave off his eyebrows in his sleep.”

 A wide smile spread across Shouto’s face, and he had to look away this time. Score.

 Fuyumi returned from the kitchen with multiple tiny plates balanced on a tray. “Ta-da! Time for the tasting. We considered putting cubes of each selection into a cute little bento for Shouto to bring to school,” she was saying as she set around ten saucer-size plates in front of the both of you, “but Shouto convinced me that transportation and refrigeration might mess up the flavours. So! Most of these came from a bakery in the Takoba district, but two of them were made by me today.”

 Fuyumi had set about ten different slices of cake on the table, each plated a bit too stylishly for you to feel like you were allowed to eat them. You didn’t know if she’d drizzled raspberry sauce over that slice and arranged wedges of strawberries next to that one, or if the bakery did.

 Uh.

 “I won’t be offended in the slightest if you like a professional cake over either of mine; that’s to be expected.” Fuyumi grinned from across the table, now that she was settling down. “But I won’t say which ones I made until you’ve tried all of them! Shouto, if you can guess, I’ll make you cold soba the next time you’re home.”

 You were trying to shoot Shouto a look that said Why the fuck are we eating so many cakes and Is this how rich people have fun, but once his sister offered that, he had a laser-focus on the cakes in front of him.

 Shouto picked up both forks and held one out to you. “We have a new mission,” he said gravely.

 I mean, whatever. Sure. Pretty boy word choice go brrr.

 Shouto noticed your noticing a probable strawberry-flavoured cake (in contrast to all of those pale bitches who probably tasted like vanilla or almond) and silently passed it to you for you to stab a bite from it, and as he set it with a quiet clink in front of you, the front door slammed hard enough to shake the shoji dividers.

 It couldn’t be a coincidence that a sharp pang shot through where Shouto’s scar would be as his father’s heavy footsteps grew closer. Scowling, you rubbed your mirroring eye, massaging away whatever of the ache you could, and that’s how Endeavor first caught you when the shoji slid open.

 He’d given a cursory nod towards Fuyumi, his gaze dragging over Shouto before latching onto you, rubbing your eye with one hand and holding up your fork with the other. The corner of his mouth involuntarily twitched as he wrinkled his nose.

 You held your ground the best you could, glaring up at him while twirling your fork idly (seemingly idly, instead of the power play showing composure that it was). Endeavor’s beard flickered to life once you tilted your head at him, as if analysing him for the first time, and you squinted, his flames almost too bright to look at without hurting your eyes.

 After a beat, you sighed heavily, stabbing your fork into the cake. “Do you have any sunblock?” you asked Shouto with your mouth full.

 Judging by the sharp increase in shadows on the dividers, the flames surged behind you, the heat washing over your back.

 Todoroki took a bite of the same strawberry cake, holding a quiet, excited look with you.

 (You’ve noticed, recently, that Shouto makes a lot of little expressions only intended for you to see, how he’s started instantly glancing towards you for a secret sort of empathy and comradery. Shouto expressed himself in the thousands of tiny looks just for you, and while you loved the trust growing in your relationship, it also saddened you that he felt the need to hide these impulses from everyone else.)

 “Fuyumi,” Endeavor began, the floorboard shifting under his weight as he approached, “Again, you’ve failed to warn me that one of your friends was coming over.”

 Fuyumi held her hands up and laughed nervously. “She’s not exactly my—”

 “She’s my soulmate,” said Shouto, pulling a plate noisily towards him and gesturing for you to try it first, “Irreversibly so.”

 This cake tasted heavily of almond, but there was something under it—maybe rum extract?

 Endeavor’s glare bored into you. “Soulmate. So you are suffering from that villain attack.” His furrowed brow tightened. “What’s her quirk?”

 Either way, that was definitely buttercream frosting, though it would be more visually appealing if it and the cake weren’t all white.

 Shouto scowled. “Don’t speak to me, as if I’m her owner, as if she’s not in the room. You should ask her yourself.”

 You hadn’t even detected that disrespectful jab; you’d been too lost in considering recent trends for monochrome, minimalist design—and how that apparently had spread to the cake world, since most of these cakes were all white. It really emphasised how delightful a shitty sort of colourful maximalism was—those cute little bitches with the berries and fruits sauces drizzled over them were next on your tasting list.

 You finished chewing your bite and ignored Endeavor’s intensity the best you could. “I’m quirkless,” you said, lying through your teeth (Fuyumi openly looked confused, since you’d demonstrated your quirk earlier, but Shouto caught on right away). You turned away from Endeavor and to Shouto. “Have you figured out which ones Fuyumi baked yet?”

 Shouto was trying his best to not laugh (another thing that disheartened you: all too often Shouto hid signs of joy. You wanted to help him feel comfortable enough for joy to burst from him without fear). “I am not yet certain,” he said, moving all of the colourful, fruity slices closer to you, “I have my suspicions, though. Have any of them felt too professional to you?”

 “Shouto,” said Endeavor through gritted teeth, the breath from his harsh consonants making his flames flicker, “What have you done. Shackling yourself to someone who’s—”

 Endeavor then used a phrase that you, frankly, just didn’t understand, because you’d never heard it before. Evidently, it must have been some archaic insult specifically for quirkless people that Fuyumi and Shouto had heard their father use before; it was abominable enough for the drinks on the table to freeze over in a splintering path of ice from Fuyumi’s clenched fist in her lap.

 Shouto’s quirk didn’t flare. He instead shifted his jaw and very deliberately took your hand, lacing your fingers together and displaying them on the table between you.

 A few painful seconds passed, and Endeavor’s flames surged again. “How you’ve wormed your way into U.A. and my son’s life is unfathoma—”

 “I like this one,” you said, tapping the plate with around half of a chocolate-raspberry-drizzle slice remaining.

 Shouto took another bite out of it and nodded.

 Crossing his arms, Endeavor started to spit out another diatribe, but he cut himself off as Shouto brushed a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth.

  ***

 Shouto, his face flushed and besotted with a constant flow of tears, rounded the corner to the dorm kitchen, and when you straightened yourself up to look at him, he had even more questions.

 You had on a protective face mask and dark sunglasses at this time of night, and you, too, were crying, despite your attempt to block out the fumes. “Sorry,” you said, brandishing your knife, “I’m chopping onions. I guess the soulmate bond perceives this as pain.”

 “It’s okay,” said Shouto, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his face with, “What are you cooking?” He held out a towel so that he could wipe your face as well.

 “Holy shit.” You whipped off your sunglasses, and you held your onion-y hands at a distance while leaning into Shouto’s touch. “It’s only the best fucking French onion soup you will have in your life. Doesn’t even matter if you don’t like onions, because this is on a different level. The onions don’t melt in your mouth; they fucking evaporate. Your mind is going to be blown.”

 Shouto halted in his blotting away of your tears and snot. “You’d let me have some of your cooking?” He tossed the (very wet) paper towel in the rubbish bin.

 Nodding, you braced yourself before cutting into another onion. “Obviously. I know you just sort of collapse after your training sessions with Midoriya, and you deserve better than microwave ramen after that.”

 Shouto took a moment, and he placed a hand on his chest. “You’re cooking for me?”

 “Yes, Shouto. Of course. That why I chose to use words implying the intention. Context clues, my dude.” You scrunched up your face. “Scratch that. Context clues, my love.”

 Swallowing, he pressed two fingers to his wrist, counting his pulse. “I think I have to sit down for a bit,” he said, “I may pass out from the sheer tenderness of it all.”

 ***

 And so the semester crawled closer and closer to the end of the semester and therefore closer to the day of the assassination attempt, which would be over winter break. But each day was somehow a delight with someone permanently in your corner and waiting for you, someone learning how you live and what you like. It was odd to be studied but an embarrassing sort of pleasure to be known.

 Shouto was careful to avoid injuring himself, now, since beforehand, he didn’t exactly care about his own physical wellness. Now that you’re connected, it’s not that he’s become cautious but that he’s more intentional.

 You gave him a travel bottle of sunscreen with moisturiser to put on his scar in the mornings, since you’d done some research on how to care for scars, which apparently were more prone to heat sensitivity (how fucking ironic), stiffness, and itching. The two of you had done some experimenting to determine if the other felt how the other cared to the pain, and it turned out that relief was only found if the one who was originally injured did something about it. A damn shame, since you’d been wondering if you two could potentially heal each other from the sidelines or at a distance.

 (This led to an awkward week in which the both of you had a sunburn flecking skin off of your noses, but only Shouto could do something about it. No matter how much aloe vera you applied on your end, it only counted on his, since he’d gotten the sunburn in the first place. Mina took many photos.)

 Hanging out in his dorm room revealed how often Sero came to borrow volumes of manga (Sero got upset the time you hadn’t finished the volume he needed yet), how often Midoriya came to discuss classes and the upcoming work studies, and how often Kouda came to lend Shouto a cat for the afternoon, among others. Shouto lay, his head on your lap while you both were sprawled across the tatami mats, completely oblivious to how popular he was. You were learning a lot about your classmates through how much they valued their friendship with Shouto, and the fact that he was so loved outside of his own household made your heart ache—and you hoped he couldn’t feel it, too. Plus, hey, you got to pet a cat, and whenever you couldn’t, Shouto would send you pictures of the cat that day.

 (Usually, this was a chocolate-point cat named Dango, who, according to Kouda, absolutely adored Shouto and praised how calming Shouto’s presence was. She often curled up on Shouto’s left side, while you huddled up to his colder shoulder. Shouto thought the competition between you and Dango for his warmer side was wildly funny.)

 In class, it was wonderful to have someone to look to for a first reaction, for a moment of empathy, or to remind you that he’s still there. On a thirstier day than usual, since Shouto had stumbled into class with ruffled bed-head and a charmingly dishevelled uniform, Shouto’s careful gaze caught you staring at him. You hastily looked at your desk, heat rising to your face, but you chanced another glance at him. The smug bastard kept his eyes on Aizawa-sensei as he wrote on the board, but Shouto couldn’t suppress his self-satisfied little grin as he unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt and surreptitiously pulled the collar down and to the side so that he could flash you his vexingly perfect collarbone. He knew your weakness, and now you had to sit in frustration for the rest of class. He had villainous qualities no one else could fathom.

 And you’d grinned to yourself before stifling it down: you knew him, too, in ways no one else knew about. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life learning more.

 ***

 He’s started referring to the day of his father’s assassination as the big day, so you’ve adopted it, too, revelling in its vagueness that let you talk about it in public. He’s been more theatrical about it than you thought, but more layers of his personality revealed himself to you the more time you spent with him.

 Today, the two of you had been staking out shrines as assassination locations, because there was something poetic about the bastard dying in a holy place. There’d been one last shrine that Shouto said couldn’t be the actual location, since it was shabby and small, but he wanted to take you to it today anyway—reasoning that it had a magnificent koi pond/river that you had to see.

 “Natsuo, after all, is into breeding carp,” said Shouto as he sat to cross his legs on the edge of the pond’s stone barrier.

 Natsuo? Into breeding? “Tell me more,” you said, “Why breeding carp?”

 Shouto gestured loosely. “That’s what I call it. It sounds more ridiculous than he’s helping out a friend with his koi dynasty. Carp sounds less elegant than koi.”

 “Misleading word choice to make people laugh is always appreciated,” you said, snapping your fingers as applause and setting your bags behind you so that you could freely lean over the pond’s surface, “What got him into it?”

 “It’s for Mom,” said Shouto, mirroring your position over the water, his shoulder bumping against yours, “Mom’s koi pond was destroyed by my father when we were in primary school, and Mom’s been too scared to start another one. Natsuo’s working with his friend to pick out high-quality koi for a pond my mom could have on her own.”

 “That’s sweet.” You poked your finger underneath the water and waited for a fish to nibble at it, but they scattered when you disturbed the water. “Horrible what your dad did, though. How do you tell a good koi from a bad one?”

 “Even now, I’m not sure.” Shouto dipped his fingers into the water as well, and he made a little icicle that the nearest fish started to inspect. “This one looks odd, though. As if he’s the fish form of an ancient wizard. The whiskers are oddly long.”

 Sure. “His name is Clog. In his spare time, he corresponds with prisoners.”

 Shouto’s face lit the fuck up. “Of course.” He lifted his hand from the pond, water dripping from his little icicle, which he used to tap another koi. “This is Klaus, whose hobby is doubles tennis.”

 God, you’d eviscerate the whole damn planet for Shouto to stay as happy as he looked. “Those two cavorting about in the far corner there—they’re a mother-son team, called, uh, Kyoya and Takoyaki. They—if you spoke to Takoyaki, Shouto, what would she say?”

 Brow furrowed, he pinched his lower lip between his thumb and index finger while he examined the fish. You were too distracted by the fullness of his mouth to concentrate on the fish—idly, you wondered what chapstick he used. You saw the moment he came up with his dumb little joke, and he faced you with a bright sort of eagerness and said in an affected voice, “If anything should happen to me, then my son, Kyoya, will take over the family business.”

 “So, all of these fish are now in the mafia. What are they trying to gain?”

 “Not all of them,” said Shouto, and he activated his quirk to extend his little icicle to stretch all the way across the pond, where he stroked a long koi down its back. “This one isn’t.”

 “Tell me about him.”

 He ran his tongue over his lower lip, glancing at you and back at the fish. He melted his pointer-icicle back to its original length before letting it dissolve between his fingers. “His name is Dick.”

 You barked out a laugh before covering your mouth. “Not even a shred of innuendo this time, looks like. Going straight for it. And?”

 “Dick likes disembowelment and working with sheet metal.”

 You clapped a hand over your eyes, groaning. “Better watch out, pretty boy, or I’ll kill you after we kill your dad.”

 “If it’s at your hands, I’ll take anything,” said Shouto, and with a soft grunt, he raised his arms above his head to stretch. Your eyes immediately honed in on the skin the hem of his parka exposed—oh. Boy has…tumby…

 You snapped out of it as Shouto checked his watch. “Looks like we’ve got fifteen minutes before we have to be at the shop.” He pulled his sleeve back over it. “Want to start walking there?”

 He’d told you that you were buying outfits for the big day (sure, bucko, very generous of you), and though you’d expected something like an army surplus store, he escorted you to a high-end, formal boutique. Really quite sexy of him, to insist that you kill his father in style. What’s the point of murder if you can’t look hot while doing it? None.

 So, that was your internal justification walking into the poshest boutique you’ve stepped foot in, feeling a bit grimy and out-of-place, but three saleswomen were waiting for you towards the front-of-house already, one handing the both of you cups of fancily decorated hot chocolate.

 Shouto turned to you before they could get a word out. “Do you have a colour in mind? I want to match you.”

 “Well, obviously not fucking white,” you said, and for some reason, one of the saleswomen’s eyebrows shot towards her carefully maintained hairline. Yikes, you forgot that people don’t like swearing in public. You’ll tone down your language. “Blood shows a bit too easily on white, so it’s like we wouldn’t have to work for it. Black—opposite problem. Wouldn’t show up much at all. Probably—” You tilted your head, considering what would piss off Endeavor. “Probably a light blue.”

 “I’ll pull a swatch of whatever shade she chooses,” said the hot chocolate saleswoman, and she took Shouto towards the back of the store while the other two took you towards the front corner.

 Thanks to Chieko’s and Hanazawa’s guidance (and quirks: Chieko’s let her instantly know what colour palettes looked best on someone [which was very niche but nevertheless insanely helpful], and Hanazawa’s quirk allowed her to tailor certain fabrics in minutes [certain fabrics being the deciding factor in how she’s working at a formal shop instead of, like, on a fishing barge]), it didn’t take long at all to find something that was suitably mobile for the assassination in addition to making you look good as hell. It was a shade of blue you wouldn’t have gone for, originally, but Chieko made you see the light.

 With Hanazawa’s sartorial quirk, you felt more tailoring phantom pinpricks from Shouto’s side rather than on your own. You finished up much more quickly than he did, so you waited where the ladies left you at the tri-fold mirrors.

 You have never looked this good in your life, and you’re thrilled to bits about looking like this as you make Shouto’s life a lot easier once the big day passes. Y’know, you should have some sort of back-ups in case you don’t kill Endeavor on the first try. Where in your dress can you hide—? Oh, it has pockets.

 Fumbling in your copious skirts, you glanced up towards the mirrors for how well a gun-sized lump could be concealed at the waist, and Shouto was tilting his head at you in the reflection. Once you’d said fuck white dresses, Shouto must have decided to stray from traditional suits as well: his fitted, navy suit was unbuttoned to show the button-down the same blue as your dress, with a thin tie a shade darker—ultimately contributing to Shouto’s being horribly, horribly pretty, despite the strangely constipated expression.

 You spun towards him, your skirts following you (good for hasty, violent movements). “I was searching for a slit in the dress,” you said, smoothing out the fabric and bouncing on the balls of your feet, “It has pockets, but I was thinking about something that might not fit in them, especially if someone frisks me at the beginning of the night. I was thinking that I could strap a stiletto to my thigh—the knife, not the shoe—obviously—and use it if—”

 His expression darkened as he surged towards you and took a step up onto the modelling platform. You cut yourself off, unable to say anything more as a grimacing Shouto cradled your face in his palms (one of them noticeably hotter than usual), forcing you to stare up at him in his unbearably gentle way. He’s too overwhelming to look at this close up, but your gaze was drawn to his mouth as he opened and closed it, winced, and said after a beat: “It is imperative for you to know that I am dangerously near losing it.”

 Your eyes crossed for a second—first due to the heat of his breath washing over your skin, but his words really didn’t help your attempts to ground yourself. “Huh?”

 And Shouto was kissing you, kissing you with a quiet sort of desperation, his lips parting to lightly nibble on your lower lip, and ultimately soft and warm and annoyingly perfect. Something hot rushed up your spine when he curled his fingers snugly into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling simply through the tension, and yes, it was him who used that pomegranate beeswax lip balm that you’d found between couch cushions at his house a few weeks ago, and fuck, just being in Shouto’s arms made you feel small but safe, and you never felt those, and never-never at the same time, and—

 It's amazing how Shouto can act like he wasn’t just caught kissing in public by three salesladies when you want to melt into the floor, how he can behave like a normal person while paying for the clothes, how he can stroll right out of the dress shop with you under his arm as if he hadn’t been sticking his tongue in your mouth reflected in three different mirrors, and Shouto, too pleased with himself, too influential, and too handsome for his own good, eventually conceded to taking the back way to U.A. so that you could patronise your favourite food stall in an attempt to ameliorate your worries—but he’d already accomplished that by shooting you a roguish grin and pressing his lips to your temple.

 ***

 So, that was your first kiss with Shouto, and it’s sizing up to be your last. He hasn’t touched you since then. Not even holding your hand.

 Mina mentioned you’ve developed an eye twitch, and not because of the scar-sharing.

 During Present Mic’s lesson on the finer subtleties of using his professional soundboard (a process he called sounding, despite your fervent attempts to convince him that that is not what that word means at all, so please stop saying it in front of the entire cafeteria on microphone), you let a thought you’d been trying to stifle surface: what if Shouto can no longer see you romantically? He got a taste, and now that the assassination day was almost here, he was backing off in order to cut ties with you with the least amount of pain.

 These concerns burdened and kept you from preventing yet another terrible Freudian slip from Present Mic over the intercom.

 Thrusting his phone with an entry for the urban dictionary pulled up on the screen, Aizawa-sensei came to relieve you of your duties, and you absently waved back at your dismissal, instead focused on Shouto’s unfairly handsome smile as you approached the bench where he usually waited for you to walk to the dorms. Walking alongside him, you bit at a hangnail and had the troubling thought that Shouto may have finally realised that is he so woefully and irrevocably out of your league that he would search for someone better after you killed his father, regardless of soulmate status.

 All of your insecurities bubbled up to smother and obfuscate the main point: you really wanted another kiss, and you weren’t sure you were getting another one.

 From a sideways glance, you garner that he’s texting Midoriya, but you can’t tell what. Even with his head bowed to text, Shouto maintained his usual grace and paused by the dorm mailboxes for you to knock on them for good luck, like normal. You did, hesitantly this time, because you’re going to need it. The assassination attempt was tomorrow, and you were about to bring up the questions you’ve been beating yourself up over.

 “Hi,” you said, even though you’re already well into the walk back to the dorms, “Hi, Shouto.”

 Shouto clicked his phone to sleep but kept it in his hand. “Hi.” He frowned. “Is something wrong?”

 You sighed, your breath clouding in the cold. “That’s what I wanted to ask you,” you said, shoving your hands in your coat pockets, “I’m—have I done something wrong?”

 Shouto blinked slowly, like a cat. “What do you mean?”

 “Um.” You took your hands out of your pockets only to return them a moment later. “I, uh. I was wondering if you were tired of being my soulmate or something along those lines? If I’m tiring to be with? I worry if I’m—I don’t know, suddenly repulsive. I know I may be jumping to conclusions, but from my perspective, you’ve been suddenly distant physically this past week and a half, ever since—since we kissed,” you said, rubbing the inside layer of your pocket between your fingers, “I don’t mean to pressure you. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. It’s just—and I know it hasn’t been long, and you’ve been busy with your scribbly notebook and meetings with your sisters and stuff—I miss you.”

 Sharply inhaling, Shouto scrunched his eyes shut and bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you know how painful it is for me to hear that,” he asked flatly.

 You’ve done it now. “Shouto, I’m sorry—”

 “That word you said. Repulsive.” Shouto took a step closer to you, his heavy exhale so cold it wasn’t visible in the winter air. “Nothing could be further from the truth. You’re entrancing. Anything you do or say can or will make me bust a nut.”

 You did a poor job of convincing him your snort-laugh was a sneeze. “Do you know what that—who taught you that?”

 He tilted his head. “Shinsou, but he told me not to snitch.” He rolled his shoulders back and shifted his jaw before very, very delicately taking your hand, curling his fingers into your palm, and once he sensed that he wasn’t going to react in a bust-a-nut way, his shoulders slackened. “I’m sorry that I caused you such trouble. It’s—ah.” Shouto frowned again, but he slid his phone into his back pocket so that he could hold your hand between both of his. “Like I said, I’m close to losing it when I’m around you. It’s hard holding myself back. It is in no way that you’re repulsive or that I’m tired of you. It’s more that I can’t get enough.”

 Nodding as your heart rate slowly went back to normal, you tugged him along the path to the dorms, your footsteps crunching in the frosted-over grass.

 “It’s not that I’m waiting until marriage to do anything with you, if that’s a concern of yours—”

 It…it wasn’t. Odd of him to bring that up.

 “—and again, I’m sorry for causing you distress, but I wanted to concentrate on tomorrow. To do it well and enjoy ourselves during. That’s a contributing factor to why I’ve been huddled off with my planner and consulting my sister about this sort of thing, since I want so hard to do this right.”

 Since when has Fuyumi known about the assassination plans?

 “But I assure you,” said Shouto, sliding his index finger along your jaw to guide your gaze towards his own, his voice growing firmer as he examined with darkened eyes your expression, “After tomorrow, I’m not holding back.”

 Your throat ran dry. “Uh. Good. Excellent.” You made a vain attempt to swallow in a way that wasn’t clearly desperate. “Cool. I’ll look forward to it.”

 He let you stew in the silence of innuendo as the two of you reached the entrance steps to 3-A’s dormitory, and you hopped up the first stair, spinning around when you had a nasty little perverted awful evil idea. “Shouto,” you said, grabbing the lapel of his coat, “May I kiss you?”

 “Of course. If you’ll allow me a moment.” Shouto shifted away from you for a bit, as if you couldn’t tell how and what he was adjusting with his belt, and his phone let out a chirrup.

 Feeling bold, you reached into the back pocket of his jeans (Shouto froze, even though your fingertips barely grazed him) to yank out his phone.

 “Midoriya’s saying something about bowling tonight?” You handed it to him once he turned around.

 “Yeah,” Shouto said, and he unlocked his phone to scan the text. “He and the rest of the guys have pooled to rent out a bowling alley for the bachelor party tonight, after Spirited Away at Kirishima’s folk’s house.”

 Laughing through your nose, you shook your head. “Shou, y’know that bachelor party isn’t a label you can whip out for every guys’ night. It’s specifically the guys’ night before the wedding.”

 Shouto shot you a wry smile. “I know.” He stowed his phone and took your hand again. “Let’s get you out of this cold; you don’t need to be sick tomorrow of all days.”

 He opened the door to the dorms for you. “What’s Ashido arranged for the girls to do tonight?”

 Huh. You hadn’t told him about the girls’ night tonight. “Mina’s been texting me about getting our nails done, and then she’s dragging me to a—well, she won’t directly say. She wants it to be a surprise, for some reason.” It’d be nice to have pretty nails while covered in the blood of your soulmate’s abuser. It would add to the overall posh vibes, you supposed. “In general, everyone’s been very secretive and giggly about it. Makes me nervous.”

 “After how composed you’ve been through this whole process? Bullshit,” said Shouto, startling you with his casual swearing and utmost confidence in you (but you were still welcoming it), “So long as you don’t quit on me before tomorrow at 11:00, you’ll be fine.” He stretched his arms above his head, making a quiet sort of grumble in the back of his throat, and he grinned when he caught you staring at his stomach. “By the way, my grandmother’s ring finally got resized,” he said as he dragged the hem of his sweater back down, “so I’ll be picking it up before the bachelor and bachelorette parties start. I know it’s cutting it close, but it’s worth it, wouldn’t you say?”

 He was grinning. The smug bastard was grinning—in his soft, gentle way that somehow emanated the fucking pinnacle of self-satisfaction—and you took a step away from him, scratching the back of your neck.

 “Ah, ha, ha,” you said, glancing around for anyone to come help you with this, but the commons were vacant. “What are—why are you choosing those particular words?”

 Shouto shuffled off his coat and reached to remove yours, and you let him, cogs unfortunately turning all the same direction at last. “You’re an advocate for using the proper words in the correct situations.”

 You were afraid of that.

 You strode into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the inside of the door for Aoyama’s bougie soda (no touching!), which you took a can of, cracked open with a hiss, and chugged as if you were an alcoholic on death row and it was a bottle of contraband hand sanitiser.  

 “So,” you said eventually, pushing yourself up to sit on the kitchen counter, “Are we still on for tomorrow? The murder part, not the wedding part.”

 “I assumed you would kill him at the reception.”

 “Okay, no,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Let me be clear, since apparently we’ve been dancing around each other’s intentions all semester: are we killing your dad tomorrow, Shouto?”

 Shouto sidled next to you, his forearms flat on the counter to support some of his weight as he leant against it, with one of them pressed along the outside of your thigh. “I figured he would suffer enough seeing us be enormously happy and outside of his influence.” His pinkie finger traced along the side seam of your jeans. “While we may not like him, a lot of civilians value his work. And an assassination on our résumés wouldn’t do wonders for our careers post-graduation.”

 Well. You could annoy Endeavor for the rest of his stupid life. Enjoy his reactions. Chest heaving, you reached over to run your fingers through Shouto’s hair, and he tilted his chin up like a cat to lean into your touch. “Is he invited to the wedding?”

 “Of course not,” he said, his eyelashes fluttering as he shut his eyes—but he cracked one open. “Are we still getting married tomorrow?”

 “Aren’t we too young? And still in school, and aren’t we going to endanger each other—”

 Shouto guided your palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the centre. “Aren’t we soulmates?”

 Frowning, you said, “You make a convincing argument.”

 He hummed, and he shifted to your front, took your soda to set it aside, and parted your thighs to stand between them, his arms wrapping loosely around your hips (his sneaky little fingers dangling to graze your ass). “So, all this time, I’ve been planning a wedding, and you’ve been plotting an assassination.”

 “I guess,” you said, giving up and sliding your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer—the winter weather still hadn’t dissipated in the dorm’s heat, after all. “You shouldn’t’ve had to plan it all by yourself, though; I’m sorry I didn’t get my head out of my ass—”

 “What are you talking about? I want to make grand gestures for you. I want to put in the great effort that you’re worth,” he was saying into your shirt, his mouth moving suspiciously lower to your boobs, “I don’t want you to worry about what you shouldn’t have to; I want you to feel as at peace with me as I do with you—”

 “Shouto,” you said, pulling back to grab his chin, to make him look at you, “I fucking love you.”

  “I also find you acceptable,” he said, nodding seriously, but a soft laugh broke through the sternness when you slapped the back of your hand to your forehead and gasped loudly.

 “Shouto,” you said, your other hand over your heart, “Do you know how much pain that brings me? I’ve having—we’re having a heart attack, all because my fiancé won’t say he loves me, on the night before our—”

 “Funny,” he said softly, his hands flat on your thighs now that you’ve dramatically languished on the kitchen counter, “I don’t feel any pain.”

 Sitting upright again, you placed your hands over his, curling your fingers into his at an awkward angle.

 “I don’t feel any when I’m with you.”

 “Oh, you poetic bastard,” you said, drawing him near to plant an exasperated kiss on his cheek, followed by another to his scar (silencing his protest that he was being genuine), “Don’t you have certain words to tell me, pretty boy?”

 His smile at first was impulsive and then grew brighter as he chose to share it with you, and Shouto pulled you even closer to whisper them in your ear.

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou

[entertext]

HGSN 29-1

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

Maki: Hey, do you guys

Maki: believe in ghosts?

Hikaru: Ghosts?

Yoshiki: You mean that photo...? The one you posted?

Maki: Ah...well...yeah. Sorry for making a weird post

Maki: It's like...

P2

Maki: Every night, these "legs" show up in my house.

Maki: At first, it seriously spooked me and I fell and hurt myself.

Maki: Day after day the number of legs have increased, too

Maki: Sure, it's really scary, but at this point, to be honest...

Maki: It's way more annoying than scary!

Maki: Shit!

P3

Yoshiki: ...I kinda get it?

Hikaru: Hmmm.

Maki: And on top of that, even though I've already got this broken arm

Maki: This weird rash has shown up on my leg.

Maki: Reason unknown, they said

Maki: I don't have any sixth sense, and I've never "seen" a thing in my life up until now

Maki: So why this all of a sudden?

Hikaru: Hey, Maki

P4

Hikaru: Do you keep any animals? Or maybe you kept one before?

Hikaru: Hmm...No, it's nothing. I see...

Maki: Huh? I've never kept any, why?

??: Yuuta! What time do you think it is!?

Maki: Ah, shit, I need to go.

Maki: If anything else happens I'll let you know, bye!

(sfx: ting)

Hikaru: Hmmm....

Yoshiki: Why an animal?

Hikaru: It had been like...hanging around Maki, but...

P5

Hikaru: Anyway, let's go to Ashidori. Maki's house is there right?

Hikaru: One of the holes should be in Ashidori.

Hikaru: It's hard to think that Maki's issues and the hole are unrelated.

Yoshiki: Yeah, I'm worried about Maki too.

Yoshiki: I get the feeling it'll be bad to leave him as is.

P6

(sfx: tap tap)

Mom: Wait! Yoshiki!

Mom: We need to send something as thanks to your classmate's mother(?) who drove you home yesterday...

Mom: And you're going out without saying anything again?...At least say where you're going...

Yoshiki: I'm staying over at Maki's place

Mom: ...good grief

P7

(sfx: vroom)

Rie: Ghost legs, huh... Come to think of it, I haven't seen many of those in town

Hikaru: Now that the holes are opening up for real, the old impurities of the people who were sacrificed must be coming out

Rie: Well, for now let's go and take a look. We've got to dig around for any clues about the hole, too.

P8

Hikaru: Are you scared?

Yoshiki: I'm not confident that I'm really ready for this...

P9

(sfx: gravel crunch)

(sfx: cicada noise)

(sfx: don...dodon...)

Yoshiki: The sound of taiko drums...?

(sfx: don dodondon...)

P10

(sfx: door opens)

Maki: Oh you're here. Hikaru! and...

Maki: ...

Yoshiki: ...what?

Maki: Yoshiki!

Yoshiki: What's with that pause?!

Maki: Uh it completely slipped my mind for a moment, haha!

Yoshiki: Not funny!

(sfx: creak)

Hikaru: Please excuse us~!

P11

Rie: Um...Is your family around? We should say hello...

Maki: My parents are busy with preparations for the festival today so they aren't around... which reminds me.

Maki: Auntie, who are you?

Rie: Right, ahaha

Rie: Um... I'm just a housewife who happens to be...

Hikaru: The strongest exorcist. She's seriously good

P12

Maki: What!? That's so reassuring!!!! Have you been on TV!?

Rie: I've never been...

(sfx: don don)

Hikaru: There's a festival today?

Maki: You don't know about the "Houko Festival"? It's pretty famous. Though to be honest, I've got other things to worry about right now...

Hikaru: Huh...

(sfx: door open)

==

Next Chapter: 2024/08/06

Twitter Extra (link):

Yoshiki: Your hair's grown out

(sfx: rustle)

Maki: It's 'cause I can't play baseball!

[heda-in-the-clouds]

Downward Doggystyle

As Lexa exercises and shows off her flexibility, Clarke offers her a more exciting and pleasurable workout. She promises Lexa that she'll feel a deeper stretch

Here's my contribution to @wanhedasdaggerweek featuring my yoga Lexa x surfer Clarke au. This is for my amazing beta and lovely friend @lexa-griffins who has supported me and my au from day one

-----------------

"Twenty-nine, thirty and breathe." Lexa panted hard to herself as she finished her final set of flutter kicks.

“That looked really good babe!�� You boasted as you filmed Lexa’s workout from the couch. Lexa had asked you to record her workout so she could analyze her form and document her progress.

“Thanks Clarke! It feels like my abs are on fire. Everything hurts.” Lexa winced as she wiped the sweat from her brow and chugged her water bottle.

“Don’t overwork yourself. I don’t want you to hurt yourself or pull a muscle.” You insisted to your girlfriend.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to push myself a bit more today. I feel like I’ve hit a wall in my training and need the extra oomph to get over it.” Lexa reassured you.

“Ok, just make sure you listen to your body. Also, about how much longer do you have? I’m checking the battery and we have about 30 more minutes left.” You commented after adjusting the camera on its tripod.

“That should be more than enough. I have a few more exercises to finish before I wrap up. Then we can shower.” Lexa emphasized the last part with a cheeky grin. Your eyes immediately darkened as Lexa eagerly smirked back. Lexa then continued her workout and maneuvered her body into a plank position.

As Lexa held her pose, you shamelessly raked your eyes all over her body knowing you would soon have her naked under the shower. Your gaze first lingered on Lexa’s sports bra that supported her perky breasts and showed off her hardening nipples. You longed to cup them and feel their weight in your grasp.

Next you imagined running your hands across Lexa’s lean body. You first wanted to admire the graceful strength of her toned back. Afterwards, your touch would follow the path of her muscles down her physique stopping at her abs. Your fingers would idly brush and play notes across the soft lines adorning her tummy.

Next, you would trace the contours of her obliques until you reached the waistband of her tights. You would give her hips a firm squeeze pleased at how supple they felt in your grip. You would then divert your attention south and trace the seams of her leggings and reveled how tight the fabric stretched across her mound. Finally, you would reach back towards your favorite thing about Lexa. You craved to dig your fingers into her ass and feel them clench tightly in response.

Snapping out of your lustful daydream, you felt yourself slowly getting hard under your sweatpants. Lexa then transitioned through several more stretches. Each new position showed off her lithe figure, soft curves, subtle abs, long legs, and firm ass at new angles for your sinful gaze causing your heart to beat faster. Your increased heartrate also pushed more blood to the growing heat between your legs.

As Lexa continued her cooldown routine, the minutes seemed to tick excruciatingly slow. Your leg started to bounce eagerly hoping that time would run faster or Lexa would cut her workout early. Lexa was blissfully unaware at your inner turmoil and your desperation to feel her warmth against and around you.

Lexa then raised her ass up as she transitioned into downward dog. This action caused her black leggings to mold tightly against her cheeks providing you a sinful view of the swell of her ass. You couldn’t hold in your desire any longer as you sprung up from the couch and approached her from behind. Her eyes remained closed as she focused on getting a deep stretch so she was oblivious to your sudden presence.

You throbbed underneath your sweats when you gazed between her legs and saw the damp fabric clinging tightly to her sex. She was wet and you knew it wasn’t just sweat from the faint musk you smelled. You smirked to yourself when you realized that you weren’t the only one aroused by the promise of sex after this workout. You were both already wet without the shower. You cupped Lexa between her legs and groaned when you finally felt her soaked core.

“Clarke.” Lexa shuddered as her form faltered slightly from your unexpected touch before she regained her composure.

“I think your form’s off babe. Don’t you have to keep your abs tight?” You teased when you saw her slouching as she leaned back into your fingers idly brushing her clit over her damp leggings. Lexa rocked her hips urging you to apply more pressure.

“Please love. I need more." Lexa looked back, pouted her lips, and begged with a tremble in her voice.

“What about finishing your workout?” You slyly grinned when you heard Lexa’s desperation in her words.

“Don’t care. I’m done. I just need your touch.” Lexa emphatically pleaded with you. You quickly caved into her request unwilling to deny your girlfriend what both she and you wanted. However, you decided to tease her a bit more.

"Like this?” You applied more pressure to her clit and dipped your fingers past her clothed entrance.

“Mhmn. Yeah.” Lexa quietly hummed out.

“Or this?" While your left hand was preoccupied with Lexa's crotch, your right hand reached around, squeezed her breasts, and pinched her nipples over her sports bra.

“Ahhh.” Lexa yelped from the pressure of your hands on her chest.

“But I think this is what you want?" You jutted your hips forward so she could feel your dick straining against your sweats.

“Fuck! You're so hard." Lexa gasped when your crotch was flush with her ass.

"You’re to blame for this babe. Just seeing you working out in your tight clothes as you move and stretch in all your flexible poses does that to me. Also, the promise of sex never fails to turn me on.” You cheerfully uttered as you started a slow roll of your hips hoping to get some relief for your dick against Lexa’s upturned ass.

“I don't think I can wait until the shower. I need you now – like this!” Lexa pleaded and started a rocking motion trying to match your movements against her sex.

“Are you sure you want me to take you like this? I mean…can you hold yourself up long enough?” You knew Lexa was in excellent shape but wondered if she had enough stamina after her strenuous workout.

“Trust me love. I've got plenty of core strength left. I know I can last longer holding myself up in downward dog than you can inside me." Lexa wiggled her butt and teased you with a smug look on her face.

"Ooof! Low blow babe. I'm getting better – slowly.” You dramatically gasped and held your hand to your chest feigning your hurt. You then playfully spanked her ass for her jab.

“Ow! I'm sorry love. You know I love how you can’t last long enough for me. It’s so flattering that I can make you cum in a minute. But yeah, you’ve been able to last longer and longer each time we have sex. I’m so happy for you.” Lexa kindly reassured you.

You felt your heart flutter at the sincerity in Lexa’s tone. You were still in disbelief at how patient Lexa had been with you from the very beginning helping you overcome your insecurities as an intersex woman. You always worried that Lexa didn’t find pleasure when you finished too quickly. You even blamed your smaller size as the main reason for this.

However, Lexa was gentle and honest with you. She constantly reassured you that she did enjoy sex with you – a lot – despite your doubts. She also never blamed your smaller size too. She even confessed that she preferred your size because it allowed her to show off her flexibility in various sex positions that worked better for you. Now, you wanted to return the favor and hopefully give Lexa the pleasure she deserved.

“Let me show you how much better I am.” You confidently beamed with a grateful look of appreciation towards Lexa’s compliment. You edged her soaked leggings further down her ass until they pooled at her knees. Your dick twitched as her firm cheeks and aroused sex were finally exposed to your lustful gaze. You were grateful that Lexa never wore underwear beneath her workout clothes.

“I don’t think I’ve told you enough times already just how much I love that you’re naked under your tights!” You enthusiastically praised as you lusted over your girlfriend’s naked upturned lower-half in front of you.

“I think I have a pretty good idea love since you always bring it up.” Lexa chuckled. “You know I hate panty lines. Plus, my leggings are already so comfortable that I don’t need to wear anything underneath.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You mumbled as you were still distracted by Lexa’s ass in front of you.

Your dick throbbed in eager anticipation sensing it would soon be sheathed inside the soaked, tight cunt that Lexa presented in front of you. Lexa whined when you briefly pulled away from her to reach for the stash of condoms and lube hidden in the drawer. You then pulled down your sweats and underwear to free yourself. You tore open a condom, added a small drop of lube inside the tip, and quickly slipped it over yourself.

You sauntered back to Lexa who still held her form perfectly in downward dog. She had been watching you with rapt attention the entire time. Specifically, you saw her eyes darkening as they followed your cock. You still couldn’t believe Lexa found your body desirable. You still recalled how shy you felt when you were first naked in front of her. You were nervous you wouldn’t measure up to Lexa’s expectations. However, Lexa was thrilled to finally have sex with you. You remembered the pure desire dripping out of her that night when she couldn’t wait to feel you inside her for the first time. That feeling never left as you saw her cunt soaked for you right now.

You stood behind her and keened at the sight of Lexa underneath you in downward dog. Her firm cheeks were spread open exposing her sex to you. Anticipating your cock, her folds were petaled open and flush with arousal. Her cunt was at the perfect height and angle for you to enter swiftly in one stroke. However, you wanted to edge Lexa and delay your satisfaction of being inside her.

Lexa whined when she felt your dick sliding across her drenched folds instead of entering her from behind. You slowly drove your dick back and forth coating the condom in her arousal for a smoother glide inside her pussy. Your tip occasionally bumped against her clit causing her back muscles to shudder and strained whimpers to leave her mouth.

“Clarke – Please! I want you inside me now. I need a different kind of stretch that only you can provide.” Lexa urgently begged.

You adjusted your stance because you couldn’t deny what you both craved in this moment. With a firm grip on her hips, you easily entered Lexa in one thrust until your hips were flush with her ass.

“Fuck! I’ve never been this deep inside you. You’re so fucking tight...and hot.” You admitted when your cock reached places inside Lexa you’ve never felt before.

“Uh! Fuck! You feel so good too. Gimme a minute to adjust. I’m not used to you this deep.” Lexa shuddered as she took deep breaths to relax her tight muscles.

“Take as much time as you need.” You were grateful that Lexa needed a minute to collect herself. You also needed a moment to relax and calm down. Despite the thin barrier of the condom, you still felt every heavenly sensation of Lexa’s warmth embracing your dick.

You worried that if you moved even an inch, it would overwhelm you and cause you to cum immediately. That was exactly what you didn’t want to happen since you cockily boasted to Lexa that you could last longer. However, you weren’t prepared for how sensual it felt to fuck Lexa in this new position. Sure, you’ve fucked Lexa from behind before but never like this. Everything felt heightened when you were this deep inside her and you weren’t even moving yet. A shudder ran down your spine when you imagined how much more intense it would feel when you started thrusting.

You also wondered how Lexa felt in this moment. Did she have the same thoughts as you where everything felt more intense when you were this deep inside her? You could feel her cautiously squeezing around you trying to find the right pressure for her. Her walls made minute adjustments around you as they tried to accommodate the extra stretch you gave at this new depth. Before you could ask, Lexa spoke out.

“Damn, I don’t think I’ve felt anything this fucking good before!” Lexa groaned out when she finally felt herself starting to relax and loosen up. She could now focus on how different and amazing it felt when you were as deep as possible inside her.

“I thought it would be just like doggystyle but it’s so much fucking better.” You gushed. “I think we should call this downward doggystyle.” You struggled to confidently say your pun without bursting into laughter.

“Dork.” Lexa turned her head, rolled her eyes, and sighed at your lame joke.

“What? I think I’m a genius.” You quickly countered before you suddenly choked on your words when you felt Lexa purposely squeezing her walls around your cock.

“How about we get back to business love? I’m bent over for you and the last thing I want to hear are more of your dumb puns.” Lexa huffed before she suddenly lowered her voice. “I wanna hear you moan instead.”

“Ahh.” You grunted when Lexa clenched even tighter around your dick. “Understood babe.”

Your short banter helped diminish the sudden urge for you to cum. It wasn’t by a lot but it was enough for you to start moving slowly inside Lexa. You started a steady pace savoring how Lexa’s body responded to your strokes. You felt her walls stretching for you as you drove your cock back and forth. They clenched around your length trying to draw you deeper inside and hold you still. Lexa was right. You started moaning and grunting as you increased your pace and thrusted sharply inside her soaked cunt chasing your explosive release.

“Ahhh! Right there Clarke! Keep going.” Lexa whimpered when you grinded against her front wall. You both learned that your cock was the perfect size to consistently find and thrust against her g-spot. You modified your stance so you could angle your strokes and thrust more easily against it. You knew if you kept fucking Lexa like this, she would be shaking and gushing around your cock soon.

“Fuck!”

“Your dick feels so damn good!”

“You’re filling me up so well right now.”

“You’re gonna make me cum!”

Lexa cried out praise after praise when you changed the angle of your thrusts so you could drive your cock into her front wall where she felt the most intense sensations. You looked down at Lexa underneath you, arching her back, split open on your cock, cheeks rippling from your hips slamming against her, and desperately driving her ass back to meet your thrusts. Hearing Lexa’s passionate moans filled you with pride that you were the only one who could fuck Lexa like this. It also had the undesirable consequence of causing your own orgasm to quickly creep up on you.

“I don’t know how much longer I can last.” You struggled to get the words out when you sensed the familiar twitching in your shaft signaling your impending release.

“Do you want to slow down and try some of the techniques I taught you?” Lexa graciously offered when she felt the telltale signs of your throbbing length inside her core.

Neither of you were ready for your messy finish yet. You both wanted to hold on just a bit longer and savor the sinful experience of fucking each other in this new position.

“Yeah.” You groaned when you slowly pulled out of Lexa. You then noticed the long spit of wetness leaving her cunt attached to your condom. You almost came at the sight but managed to stave off your orgasm when you squeezed your shaft just behind your head just like Lexa showed you. In a matter of seconds, you felt your impending urge to cum disappear. You also took several deep breaths until you were confident you were ready to go again.

“Good?” Lexa asked with a proud smile on her face.

“Yeah. Thanks for showing me that. It’s a lifesaver babe.” You confidently grinned back in relief.

“You’re very welcome. Now, get back to fucking me love.” Lexa insisted as she drove her ass even higher up.

“Gladly.” You repositioned yourself behind Lexa and eagerly entered her in one smooth stroke aiming for her g-spot again. You knew you found it when Lexa uttered a soft moan and her walls suddenly clenched around you. You keened at how Lexa’s body desperately missed your cock and welcomed you back with a tight and wet embrace. You gave her hips a quick squeeze before you pulled out and started fucking her hard again.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Lexa moaned out and cried at how great you felt back inside her cunt.

As you continued fucking Lexa, you noticed her arms shaking, feet losing grip, and back muscles starting to flex and strain. She had spent more time than she anticipated in downward dog and it was starting to show. It also didn’t help that Lexa had to steady herself from your hips thrusting relentlessly against her ass. No matter how firm or big her ass was, it didn’t provide enough cushion the longer you fucked her. You could feel Lexa struggled to fully hold herself up as you had to support more of her weight with your tightening grip on her hips.

“Fuck Clarke. I don’t think I can hold myself up any longer like this.” Lexa whined as she felt her strength slowly being drained.

“Can you hold on a bit more babe? I know you can do it. I’m almost there. Can you be a good girl for me?” You softly cooed sensing Lexa’s growing struggle. You knew she had the core strength to last and wanted to push her.

“Yeah. I wanna be good for you love.” Lexa whimpered when she was soothed by your reassuring words. You saw Lexa dig her heels and adjust her hands on her yoga mat for better grip. She then flexed her muscles and tightened her stance to correct her slouching form in downward dog.

Lexa had unlocked a new source of energy and determination. You were proud of your girlfriend and wanted to reward her tenacity. You focused all of your energy into making sure Lexa came with you. You reached around and rubbed her clit. You slowed down your thrusts and fucked her with shallow strokes so you spent as much time as possible stimulating her g-spot.

Lexa cried out incoherent moans and whimpers in response. She felt conflicting sensations all over her body. Her legs, arms, and abs hurt from the strain of holding herself up but the deep strokes of your cock against her walls electrified her nerves with an intense pleasure.

You felt so close to your own climax but it wasn’t due to the intense sensations of Lexa’s silky soaked walls wrapped around your throbbing cock. No, it was due to the sweet and raspy moans leaving Lexa’s mouth as you pulled her back and forth against your cock. Pride caused your chest and cock to swell up that you were the cause of Lexa’s filthy moans.

That’s when you felt it. Lexa’s walls suddenly clenched around you halting your thrusts and holding you still. A second later, her cunt rhythmically squeezed and tightened around your cock signaling the start of her orgasm. You then felt a flood of wetness soaking your dick and gushing out between your bodies. You quickly succumbed to your own orgasm from the rhythmic patterns of Lexa’s muscles milking your cock forcing you to shoot out jets of cum into the condom.

“Lexa? You okay babe?” You prodded when you saw her body starting to relax again. However, Lexa didn’t respond so you assumed she was still recovering and didn’t have the mindset to think clearly yet. You gently lowered Lexa to the floor and allowed her to rest on her yoga mat as she regained her strength and consciousness.

“Clarke. Clarke. Clarke.” Lexa was passionately moaning your name. Your voice never sounded sweeter than when Lexa was in the throes of her climax. Suddenly, Lexa’s muscles holding her taut suddenly buckled from the intensity of her orgasm racking her body. Her body and legs were shaking uncontrollably so you quickly tightened your grip to hold her up so she wouldn’t fall down.

You didn’t pull out and were still inside Lexa knowing she sometimes clenched around your dick to soothe herself and come down after a strong orgasm such as this. She also enjoyed feeling your weight above her and felt safe and protected underneath you. It was one of her favorite forms of intimacy with you. You peppered Lexa’s backside and neck with nips and kisses waiting for her to come back to you. You whispered soft affirmations of love, desire, and appreciation into her ear too. 

“I love you Clarke.” Lexa softly breathed out when she finally regained her awareness. 

“I know.” You tenderly responded as you leaned over and kissed Lexa. Your heart fluttered as you both smiled widely into the kiss. Pulling back, you both had a dopey grin on your face. 

Your moment of bliss was interrupted when Lexa’s fitness tracker started beeping on her wrist. Lexa quickly checked her notification to silence it. 

“Uh Clarke? My watch accidently recorded our sex as a high intensity workout.” Lexa awkwardly informed you as a bright red blush adorned her face.  

“Really? That’s so funny. Show me the stats.” You pleaded as you struggled to suppress your laugh at Lexa’s adorable embarrassment. Lexa sighed before she rolled her eyes and held up her wrist so you could both scroll through the various fitness metrics it had recorded. 

“Wow. Your heart rate peaked over 100 beats per minute during your orgasm! You should start recording that in your workout journal.” You suggested enthusiastically.  

“I am not going to record that stat in my journal Clarke. That’s so personal. What if someone reads that?” Lexa vehemently protested. 

“Lexa! Look at how many calories you burned during sex. Damn that’s a lot. I think you should start adding sex to your daily workout routine.” You hoped that Lexa would take your suggestion seriously.

“We already fuck at least twice a day Clarke. How much more do you want?” Lexa countered. 

“Well, I –“ You started to respond before Lexa swiftly interrupted your train of thought. 

“Don’t finish that. I already know the number and that’s unreasonable. We’re still in college and have classes to attend.” Lexa scoffed back. 

“You should wear your fitness tracker whenever we have sex now. You can record it as hot yoga.” You proudly grinned. 

“Oh my God! Clarke stop!” Lexa groaned, dropped her face, and hid her embarrassment into her yoga mat.

“I’m sorry Lexa but you know how I love teasing you.” You quietly apologized as you nudged your head against Lexa trying to coax her back out and face you.

“Can we talk about something else?” Lexa timidly asked when she turned and faced you.

“We don’t have to talk at all.” You cockily boasted with a smolder. 

You groaned when you felt Lexa’s enthusiastic approval as she squeezed around your dick which had softened inside her. She must feel rejuvenated now as she tried to help you get hard again.

“I need to grab a new condom and I can’t pull out if you’re holding me too tight babe.” You urged when Lexa’s walls didn’t release their tight grip on you. Lexa sighed because she didn’t want to let go of you just yet. You kissed her pout away and promised you would be quick. You pulled out and quickly discarded the used condom. You then grabbed some wet wipes and hastily cleaned both you and Lexa up.

Lexa grabbed a condom from the stash and beckoned you close to her. She gave your cock several strokes to make sure you were fully hard. She then tore open the packet, gave your dick a small kiss on the tip, and sheathed the condom down your shaft.

“I have another yoga pose that I want you to fuck me in. It’s the bridge position.” Lexa keenly told you before she laid down on her mat, spread her legs apart, and lifted her hips up. “And don’t worry. This pose is easier on me so you can take your time fucking me love.”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropped, and your dick twitched when you saw Lexa spread open and presenting her soaked cunt for you to fuck again. Who knew yoga poses were so versatile? You dropped to your knees, moved towards her, and positioned yourself in between her legs. You first ran your hands across her thighs, up her mound, and over her abs. You were always in awe of Lexa’s toned physique and craved every opportunity to touch her.

“Having fun love?” Lexa giggled while you were distracted worshipping her body.

“Yeah. Sorry about that.” You blushed when you realized several minutes had passed and she was still waiting for you to fill her up.

“No worries. It’s so cute when you get super focused on me.” Lexa happily insisted to you. “Wanna explore the inside of me now?” Lexa smirked.

You didn’t want to keep her waiting any longer. Again, Lexa’s entrance in bridge pose was at the right height and angle for you to easily slide inside her. It’s like her body was made for exactly for you. You shifted your stance and started pressing your cock past her folds which easily parted for you. Your dick slid deeper inside Lexa inch by inch until you bottomed out. She gave you a reassuring squeeze that you could start moving.

You pumped your hips back and forth keeping a languid pace. You weren’t in a rush to finish. You wanted to savor all the sensations you felt as you slowly fucked Lexa. You focused more clearly on all the different textures you felt inside her like the various ridges surrounding your cock. You also felt how different her g-spot felt. It was a spongy texture compared to the smoothness everywhere else.

You then wondered if Lexa did the same and focused on how your cock felt inside her. You looked down and saw her eyes were tightly closed. It seemed like she was in a deep concentration right now. Was she feeling the details of your shaft as you slowly thrusted inside her? Did she appreciate the way you filled her up? Lexa then opened her eyes and caught you staring intensely at her.

“What love?” Her head tilted when she asked you.

“You just look so beautiful right now.” You gushed when you couldn’t hold in your feelings right now.

“Charmer.” Lexa’s face beamed from your compliment and showed off her dimples with her wide smile.

Her hand then reached up and covered your own holding her hips up. Her thumb rubbed soothing circles across your skin before she squeezed your palm. You knew what it meant. She wanted you to stop moving but you weren’t sure why.

“I wanna kiss you right now.” Lexa clarified when she saw your confused expression.

A joyous grin broke out on your face as you couldn’t contain your excitement. You carefully lowered yourself down so you could reach her face. Your nerves ignited when you kissed her. You soon felt a blissful warmth flooding your body. You continued making out, trading tender kisses with each other. You finally pulled back when the need of oxygen surpassed your need of her.

“Let’s get back shall we?” She pleaded when you saw her eyes raw with passion for you.

You nodded and pulled yourself back up. You readjusted your position and checked in with Lexa that you were ready. She returned a gleeful smile prompting you to resume. Lexa’s face soon scrunched up in delight, mouth gaped open, and abs flexed when you swiftly found her g-spot again.

"Love, don't let your hips fall. Keep them up." You teased when you saw her form off due to your strong thrusts against her front wall. She playfully stuck her tongue out at you but followed your instructions.

You then reached forward and squeezed Lexa’s breasts over her sports bra. They felt firm as you took turns cupping each one in your hands. You were somewhat disappointed that Lexa still had her sports bra on. You wished you could see them moving in sync with your thrusts but her bra kept them firmly in place. Your thumb brushed over her nipples that started to point out. You knew her nipples were sensitive so you stroked, rubbed, and pinched them knowing it drove Lexa wild.

“Love? How close are you right now?” She sharply panted out after a few minutes.

“I feel like I’m almost there. Why?” You admitted when you realized the familiar signs of your climax had suddenly snuck up on you.

“I have one more position I want to surprise you with. I think it’ll be the perfect one for you to finish in.” Lexa insisted.

“What’s it called?” You eagerly mused.

“It’s the plow pose!” She excitedly squealed.

Your attention piqued from the obvious name of the pose.

“It’s actually an advanced yoga pose I found online. When I saw it for the first time, I wanted to see if it would work as a hot sex position with you. It’s tough to hold this pose for long so I’ve been practicing in private to get better. I can hold it for two minutes before it’s too much. That should be good enough for you right – not that two minutes isn’t short – it isn’t – I swear – it’s a good time – long enough for me.” Lexa awkwardly rattled on.

“Of course I want to try it with you babe.” You chuckled to save her from embarrassing herself anymore. You just adored seeing how cute and flustered Lexa got when she rambled. She signaled for you to stop and pull out so she could get into position. You sat on your heels giddy as you awaited her final pose.

Lexa stayed in a bridge but she suddenly lifted her legs up until they pointed directly at the ceiling. She then drove her legs forward towards her chest until her toes landed on the floor behind her head. Her raised hips were aligned with her shoulders that supported her weight on the floor. Her torso was almost at a ninety-degree angle which meant her sex was pointed straight up at the ceiling.

“Ta-da! What do you think love?” Lexa cheered once she finally settled into the plow pose.

“Fuuuuuuck!” You groaned heavily in astonishment that Lexa had practically folded over herself. You’ve never been more grateful for having a flexible girlfriend.

“Hurry up Clarke. I can’t hold this for too long.” Lexa insisted.

“I’m coming babe.” You responded without a second thought.

“Already? You’re not even inside me yet.” Lexa playfully teased you.

“Dork.” You sassed back.

You stepped up to her a bit unsure how to get yourself into position and enter her. Luckily, Lexa saw your predicament and guided you. You leaned over her and placed your hands on the back of her thighs. You cautiously pushed them down until you hovered over her entrance at the right angle. You just had to drop your hips and you’d be inside her.

“Go ahead love. Fill me up!” Lexa eagerly beckoned.

You lowered your stance and pushed through her folds. Your moans became more unrestrained as you forced her walls to adjust around you the deeper you sunk. You shuddered when you finally bottomed out. Being soaked inside her warm cunt overwhelmed your senses. She felt tighter, wetter, and hotter in this new position. You groaned trying to suppress yourself from throbbing too much.

“Fuck Lexa! I’m already so close – I haven’t even moved yet! I don’t think I can last long.” You anxiously confessed, worried you would finish after a few sloppy thrusts.

“Hey it’s okay. Deep breaths love. Cum when you need to.” Lexa soothed seeing the nervousness on your face.

“But I just want to be good enough for you.” You uttered in a hushed voice.

“Love you are.” Lexa tenderly reassured you.

“But – “ You replied apprehensive of Lexa’s words before she interrupted you.

“Clarke. Love. I just want to enjoy this with you no matter how long you last.” Lexa smiled affectionately at you. “It’s a new position right? I don’t expect you to be great at it yet. There’s plenty of chances for you to get better. Just be with me now and it’ll be good for both of us. I promise.”

“Fuck you’re amazing! I love you.” You choked out. Lexa always knew what to say to help you overcome your insecurities.

“I know. Deeply.” Lexa smirked and clenched around you to emphasize her last point.

“Fuck!” You whimpered and jerked your hips forward caught off guard by Lexa’s walls squeezing you even tighter.

“Now, don’t hold back for me love. It’s the plow pose for a reason. I want it hard and fast!” She keened.

Lexa wanted you to become selfish. Right now, she didn’t care about her own pleasure but only yours. She chose this position specifically for you. She practiced holding this pose in private for you. She imagined being fucked by you like this. You didn’t want all her hard work to go to waste. You cast aside your anxiety about finishing too fast. Instead, you focused on how filthy it would feel to fuck Lexa in this position.

You drove your hips up then slammed them back down onto Lexa’s ass. You repeated this over and over so your cock would plow up and down inside her cunt in long, heavy strokes. At this extreme angle, it felt like gravity was helping you drive your cock deeper, faster, and harder inside her body. You realized how intense each thrust felt in this position and desperately chased your climax uncaring how fast it would arrive.

You peered down and saw Lexa looking seductively up at you. Her eyes were dark with lust. She bit her lips as she marveled at your intensity. She moaned and cried to the beat of your thrusts. They joined in the sinful symphony of the heavy slaps of your hips against her ass coupled with the wet squelches of your cock plowing her cunt. You felt her hopelessly squeezing around you in a vain attempt to hold you still but your thrusts easily overpowered her as you forced your way deeper chasing your messy finish.

“Clarke!” Lexa desperately whined as her eyes rolled back after a sharp thrust against her g-spot.

Hearing how sweet she moaned your name ignited your nerves and pushed you to your explosive climax. You growled hard and filled the condom with heavy spurts of your cum. You whimpered when you felt Lexa’s muscles matched the rhythmic pulses of your throbbing cock. Her body craved to be soaked in your release that the thin latex barrier held back.

After your orgasm ran through its course, you gently unfolded Lexa and lowered yourselves to her mat. She had a dopey grin of bliss plastered on her face as you carefully settled your weight above her. You were both sweaty but neither of you cared. Her legs were still tied around you as you rested. She wasn’t ready to let you go and you weren’t ready to pull out. You nuzzled into each other’s neck and traded tender kisses. You rubbed soft circles around her hips while she ran her hands up and down your back to soothe each other.

“I’m gonna be so sore. But it’s the good kind of sore.” Lexa heavily breathed out after she caught her breath.

“Was that … good for you?” You hesitantly asked.

“Fuck that was so hot love! That went better than I imagined. I love how hard you came.” Lexa excitedly blurted out.

“Yeah? It felt really intense for me too. Thanks for finding this position and holding it for me.” You cheerfully nodded impressed at Lexa’s endurance and flexibility.

“You’re welcome love. We are definitely gonna do this again! But I need more practice to stay longer in plow pose.” Lexa playfully shared.

“I also need some practice to improve my stamina. Luckily, I have the hottest workout partner to help me out.” You bragged.

Lexa beamed and flashed you a toothy smile. Afterwards, you were both content to just lay there soaking in each other’s warmth. You still had time until you felt yourself softening and had to remove your condom. However, your tranquil bliss was broken when Lexa suddenly gasped.

“Love. Did you ever turn off the camera?” Lexa frantically squealed.

“I think so? Why?” You hesitated as you struggled to remember.

“Look.” Lexa tapped you on the shoulder so you could both face the couch where you had set up the camera mount. When you turned your head, you saw the red recording light of the camera still flashing.

“Oh my God! It’s still on!“ You yelped out.

“We made a sex tape!” Lexa exclaimed in pure shock.

“Do you want to watch it? I could judge your form babe.” You sheepishly asked Lexa after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“Only if I can critique your technique too love.” Lexa flirted back.

“Deal. So shower then movie night?” You offered with a smug grin on your face.

“Let’s skip the shower and save some water. I have a strong feeling we’re gonna be sweaty again real soon.” Lexa smirked

[resident-gay-bitch]

you can now find eddies pov here :))

this wasn’t going to be easy, and that was a fact.

dustin was already distraught, a blabbering fucking mess for the entire walk from the town centre to the creel house in this slimy godforsaken underworld.

they were already at their wits end, with barely a string of hope left when eddie stepped in. eddie, who was now a bad guy apparently. steve had to tackle dustin to the ground when eddie first swooped in and tried to slice nancys throat open with his claw because dustin just wanted to hug him.

that was hard enough. everything was hard enough. but now steve had to face - and probably be the one to kill because he was the brawn if nancy couldn’t - the very man who had been haunting his dreams for months and led him to ask robin the question of how she knew.

he was… rabid. clothes ripped and clinging to his body in unnatural ways, his hair a fucking wild mess, his eyes glowing red, his skin paler than usual, the tips of his fingers now black and sharp like talons, extra teeth that were far sharper than teeth should ever be, a snake like tongue, wings!, and not to mention he was soaked in blood. he had it dripping from his chin for fucks sake.

whatever that thing was, it wasn’t eddie.

but it was.

so they’d spent the past hour trying to hide and calm dustin and devise a new plan, whilst trying to survive in this hell.

yeah this was going to be the hardest thing steve’s ever done.

he was probably going to die today.

well, if he died at the hands- claws of eddie, then at least he’d be dying with something beautiful. monster or not.

they stepped back out into the road, steve leading the pack and nancy covering the back.

something swooped overhead, casting a wide shadow, and by the break in dustin’s voice, steve knew it was the eddie thing.

he looked up to see the beast pearched atop a stobie poll, crouched with his hands between his feet like an animal, his wings hanging down behind him.

he looked right at steve, and steve felt his heart stop.

covered in blood and fucking terrifying, steve still loved him.

more than ever, actually.

eddie cocked his head to the side, just looking at steve.

steve adjusted the grip of his nail bat over his shoulder, ready in position to swing. he heard nancy cock her gun, he heard mike and dustin grab onto eachother, and noticed el stepping up beside him at the ready.

eddie just sat there. he moved his head slowly forward, like he was trying to get a better look. he was assessing them, probably, figuring out the quickest way to kill them all without getting hurt.

it made steve sweat.

if eddie wasn’t so high right now, steve would just charge and take a swing. get this over with. give the kids the best advantage.

eddie quickly straightened his head out and made a sound. it was a weird sound. sort of like a creepy roll of his tongue and then a click. it sounded far too much like a demo dog for steve’s comfort.

everyone froze at eddie’s sudden moment and then started looking around after he’d made the sound.

had he called for help?

steve clenched his jaw and gripped the bat tighter, eyes fixed on eddie.

eddie raised his wings up high, spread out wide and they were big. like fucking massive. steve was sure one wing alone was longer than he was.

everyone braced for impact.

eddie made the sound again and stood, standing tall atop the electricity pole, and then he made another sound that was more like a birds chirp (if the bird was dying).

and then he moved, and everyone made sudden noise and yielded his weapons but then stopped not a second later.

eddie was falling.

he was just freefalling backwards off the stobie poll with his hands clutched at his heart.

right before he hit the ground, his wings kicked up into action and carried him back up into the air. and once he was high enough, really fucking high, he dropped again.

steve was confused.

eddie dropped and then… oh shit, he wrapped his wings around himself and was fucking spiraling through the air like an arrow, heading straight for steve.

he heard will shout to run, and everyone jumped back but-

steve was on the ground, groaning and trying to fight eddie off who was on top of him, pinning him down. steve didn’t know where his bat went.

eddie was looking at him with wide eyes.

steve’s jumped out of his skin, screaming when he heard nancys gunshot.

silence.

eddie made a small sound, a shrill one, like he was hurt.

oh he was hurt.

eddie turned his head and spread out his wing and steve could see a perfect circle cut through it. eddie looked at it, then moved his wing out of the way to scowl at nancy.

this couldn’t be good.

eddie snarled at her, his snake like tongue darting out to his before he was grabbing steve and lifting them up into the air.

steve screamed, he’d never been this high before.

nancy had aimed her gun to shoot again but dustin stopped her, there was a very good chance she’d hit steve if she did.

steve didn’t know where his bat was.

eddie started flying, steve clutched tight in his arms and he had no clue where they were going because he had his eyes squeezed shut.

he was so gonna die like this.

and then they stopped, and steve was being layed down on something… soft?

he opened his eyes to find eddie crouched over him again, his hands between his feet like before, his wings draped down behind him, his head cocked as red eyes blinked at steve curiously.

steve rubbed his head and looked around to find that he was… in the highschool theatre dressing room? he only recognised it because it was a classic in school make out spot.

he was laying on a pile of pillows and ratty old blankets that were piled on top of a few mattresses. pillows, big and small, were piled up even higher around the mattresses and it looked… it looked like a nest.

eddie made the clicky sound again and then chirped happily and crawled away.

steve was beyond confused.

he sat up and looked around.

beside him was an old mangled bear, there was just a pile of flannel shirts in one corner of the nest, eddie’s guitar was leaning up against the edge of the nest wall, there were those weirdly shaped dice dustin always carried scattered around, and… oh.

steve moved a pillow to the side a little to find his old varsity jacket stuffed there. it was dirty and a little wear for tear, but everything was in the upside down.

he wondered why eddie had it.

he moved the pillow some more to find one of his shirts there too. and then he lifted a blanket to find a whole collection of his clothes! a few shirts, a red jumper, three odd socks and one matching pair, a pair of purple boxers, his old basketball shorts, a singular sneaker that matched the one on his foot now, and a yellow sweater that steve recognised as the one he threw at eddie on the boat.

steve pet his own chest to feel the familiar bumps of the pins and patches of eddie’s battle vest laid there.

oh.

oh they- they were the same.

they missed eachother.

they barely knew eachother, but they missed not being able to learn.

steve spun around when he felt eddie’s presence again, and eddie was sitting in his same weird stance, but this time right beside steve, his face abnormally close.

steve kinda freaked out.

eddie cocked his head again, blinked those wide eyes that steve couldn’t find scary, even under the red.

steve held up the varsity jacket in one hand and gave it a waggle. eddie looked at it and then looked back at steve, then back at the jacket, then back at steve, and then he purred.

steve didn’t know why it gave him butterflies.

eddie nodded his head forward until his head bumped steve’s shoulder, and then he looked back up with those wide eyes again.

“it’s yours.” steve said simply, tugging at the sleeve of eddie’s vest on himself, “i know, i’m sorry. i hope you don’t mind. it helped ground me on the bad days.”

eddie cocked his head.

“can you understand me?” steve asked.

eddie nodded.

steve was very glad to hear that, “can you talk like me?”

eddie just looked at him.

steve sighed, “i’ll take that as a no.” he hummed, “you have a lot of my things.”

eddie dropped something else on his lap.

their old year book from eighty two. steve opened it up to the page that was indented, obviously eddie looked at it a lot.

on the page was a picture of the swim team, steve posing in one picture with one other guy - the co captains - however, the other guys face had been covered by a cutout of eddie’s face. above it in red sharpie wrote “by the time you graduate, this will be real, and he will be nice and want you back”.

steve couldn’t help his laugh.

eddie crushed on him in highschool?

steve stopped his laughing when eddie made a sharp sound of protest, and steve looked up to see his already wide eyes even wider and… a pout?

oh god, he was making a puppy dog face at steve right now.

god, steve had heard so much about his puppy dog face from wayne, he’d dreamed about being on the receiving end of one himself. and here he was, only it was different now. he had pale skin and dark eyes and blood on his chin.

steve closed his mouth and looked at the pleading expression on eddie's still pretty face, and kinda melted.

"you technically still haven't graduated, you know?" steve found himself saying, and he didn't know why. eddie was technically a demon or something. steve should be running for the hills, but...

eddie made a chipy clicky sound again and then suddenly something wet was touching his cheek and- okay, eddie was licking him.

eddie was liking him a lot, like a dog.

steve laughed and pulled away and smiled at eddie, "licking? really?"

eddie smiled and nodded, shuffled steve back into the steve pile under the blankets and made him rest there. steve did lay, and rest, leant up against the pile of pillows and old clothes. he'd forgoten all about the high stakes of everything, because all he could think about was eddie. eddie here, alive- not really there, but here no less.

eddie shoved steve into the shape he wanted and then grabbed the old mangled teddy with his teeth and crawled over to steve. he dropped himself down heavily into steves lap - causing him to jolt forward and gasp from the sudden weight and pain - and curled up. his wings wrapped around steve, caving him in. eddie nussled his head against steves chest, under the opening of the vest, the mangled teddy clutched tight in his arms, and then he purred again, a big long one.

it was so warm like this.

steve didn't care if eddie wasn't really eddie anymore, because deep down inside, he was still every bit eddie that he could be. it was this world that had turned him into something else.

plus, who was he to judge? steve was a much uglier monster at one point in his life too, bulying and kicking people to the ground during highschool, but he was still good at heart these days. eddie could be too.

he was.

there was no doubt about it.

steve ran his hand over - not through because he physically couldn't - eddie's hair and held him close, and they rested there together for a while, in eddie's home.

saving the world could wait a little while.

[nowoyas]

haze of morning (NSFW) - nishinoya/cat hybrid!reader

M.list - Ao3

A/N: here have a non-canon spinoff of a fic I haven't fucking written yet (edit: I started writing it) lmao enjoy

Summary: Although he can never seem to predict them, Noya's gotten the hang of helping you through your heat cycles. This time, he bought a little something extra to make it more fun.

Warnings: heat cycles (no breeding), creampies, he calls you "kitten", biting bc this is a fic I wrote, light somno, being recorded during sex

Words: ~1600

You are going to be the death of him.

Your heats come infrequently—once every few months, apparently, but he's searched that multiple times because he keeps forgetting until it's time again—and hit you like a truck every time. Noya does his best to stay on top of them—after the first year or so, he'd gotten you more than a few toys in case it came on while he was at class or at work, and your nests in the floor of every available closet are now equipped not only with the usual blankets and plushes, but also a sealed bottle of water for you to find when you retreat.

He's reread the same articles on hybrid heats so many times they're burned into his brain. He could recite them from memory—the things to look out for, how to watch for heats if your hybrid is mute or withdrawn, how to ethically care for a hybrid in heat. Sudden increased affection, a shift to more animalistic vocalizations (in your case, involuntary purring seems to be the biggest), scenting one's owner. Still, the signs never register until mornings like these, when he wakes up already hard to whimpers and gasps in his ear.

The biggest sign he's learned to look out for, the one the articles didn't tell him about, is that you grind on him in your sleep. The room is still mostly dark, the first fingers of sunlight crawling into the room and dancing across your sleeping forms, and you are making a mess on his bare thigh.

He watches you in appreciation for a while—the flick of your ears and tail, the way you seem to be holding back on whimpering even in your sleep—before he reaches for his phone, drafting two texts: one to his boss, one to Ryuu.

Hey, something's up with [name] so I gotta stay home with her today. Ryuu owes me a favor so I'll see if he can cover my shift

Lucky that Ryuu owes him. Lucky that this time, he can catch you early and have you all to himself for this heat. Lucky that you're such a heavy sleeper that not even Noya's quiet groan wakes you.

hey man. so that favor you owe me: can you cover my shift tonight?

It's too early for either of them to see it, but he's too pre-occupied to care. He gently pulls you off him, heart cracking at the mournful whine that leaves your throat, and goes searching for his latest impulse buy. If he does it right, this'll be your best heat yet, though not your easiest. While there, he sets up his phone on a tripod, angles the frame, and hits record: you'd long since enthusiastically agreed to him recording you through your heats, even if he hasn't necessarily brought up the idea of the little bottle he'd bought from the sex shop last week.

He pulls the blanket off you, carefully hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and slides them down your plush legs, holding his breath while he checks that you're still asleep.

Good. Good.

It's hard not to let out a breathy laugh when he re-locates the new buy and gets the bottle open, squeezing out just a little too much gel onto two fingers. The sharp scent of strawberry reaches his nose, and he casts aside the bottle before pressing those same fingers right against your clit.

You still don't wake.

Your hips roll against his hand, helping him to spread the gel as he strokes at your pussy gently, and then he pulls his hand away and waits. Watches.

The bottle said it'd need fifteen minutes to kick in, but already, your whines are pitching. It's almost too much, watching your hips buck against the air instead of him, and he's not a patient man, but he waits anyway.

He waits until your eyes open, until you shoot him the most desperate, fucked-out look he's ever seen despite him having barely touched you, and then, he reaches his hand into his boxers and pulls out his cock.

"Hey there, kitty. Feeling okay?"

"Noya," you whine, reaching one hand towards him weakly. "Please."

"Please? What is it?"

"Heat," you manage. "Please, Noya."

And fuck, if that doesn't break his resolve.

He's on top of you within seconds, your legs and tail both immediately circling his waist. He doesn't press into you immediately—his cock settles firm between your thighs as he kisses at your neck. The contact alone has you keening all the same, hips bucking to drag your dripping pussy along his length.

"S-something's—hah—diff'rent," you whine as he sucks a new mark into your neck. He still hasn't collared you,¹ doesn't know if you even want him to, but keeping you constantly marked does wonders. "'S different, Noya."

"Does it feel good?" he growls against your throat.

You nod frantically. "Too good. M' already—"

He pulls away and slides into you mid-sentence. You cut off, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he bottoms out in an instant.

This is what he was looking for, much easier with the sensitizing gel—all it takes is all of him in you once for you to cum the first time today, walls desperately trying to milk his cock. You're normally so loud that he'd kept your panties at hand to gag you with, but now, you're pawing at his back silently, reduced to almost no words.

"Already what?" he teases, voice strained at the feeling of your plush heat around him. "You gotta finish your sentences, baby. I thought we had you better-trained than that."

You whimper, paw at his back as he begins to fuck into you. He snaps his hips harshly, brings a thumb up to press against your clit just to watch the way your ears twitch at the feeling. This, right here, is his favorite part of your heats: watching you, your eyes unfocused, breasts bouncing in one of his shirts because neither of you could be bothered to get it off you, as you squirm. Your tail unwraps from his waist, flicking at the air, and just for fun, he grabs it and gives it a tug.

There it is. You cry out, the noise echoing in the room along with the obscene squelch of your pussy as he takes you and takes you and takes you. "How's that? Feeling good?"

"Need—need you."

He nods, pushing up the shirt you're wearing so he can latch onto your breasts. The second he makes contact with your nipple, your back arches into him. He grins, rolls the bud between his thumb and forefinger. Tugs just to hear you keen.

He wonders, not for the first time, what this must feel like for you—your body on fire, driven by some deep urge to fuck until you can't breathe. Even the lightest touches pushing you to beg for more more more, like the rest of the time you're too embarrassed to admit you love him. He must've made you cum more than a hundred times and you still won't meet his eyes whenever you take his hand, but here you are like clockwork, babbling on his cock.

He's so busy teasing you that he nearly misses the signs of you approaching a second orgasm, too quick to stop. When you crash into that wall, he groans, holds you tight, grits his teeth through the feel of your nails on his back. He croons as you come down, takes the moment to slow his thrusts and really feel you cumming around him.

"You're doing so well for me, kitten. C'mon, just a little more."

Fucksake, you're drooling for him. Your tail flicks with every thrust, body twitching, and the sight is almost enough to push him over the edge on its own. It's your clawing at his back that really does it, though—nail digging into his skin, trailing hot lines across the flesh that he's sure to get teased for by someone later. He groans, sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he cums inside.

You let out a pleased, sprawling noise that he thinks is something like a broken yes as he fills you to the brim, but he can't make himself think about it too hard when his hips are stuttering.

"Does that feel better?"

"Y-yeah," you manage, gasping quietly for air as he pulls out.

"You gonna let me go get you some water, kitten?"

Your legs twitch around his waist. He laughs, effortlessly untangling you from him and patting your hip.

"You wait here. I'm gonna get us both something to eat before you get all horny again."

You whine, turning over to watch him tuck himself back into his shorts, take the phone off the tripod, and leave.

On his way to the kitchen, he checks his phone. No response from Ryuu or his boss yet. As an afterthought, he sends the same text to both of them:

Actually, it's looking kinda rough. I'll probably need tomorrow off, too.

Footnotes

1. In-universe, "collaring" is a legal process more than it is a kink thing. It's sort of a separate process that's somewhere between adoption (as in adopting a pet) and marriage (marriage) while also being a completely separate entity from either of these things. If you would like to know more I would happily meet ao3's comment character limit to explain it to you in excruciating detail.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory

[planetpedri]

Softly — Leandro Trossard.

Pairing: Leandro Trossard x Fem!Reader

Summary: You wake to the smell of your best friend making you breakfast, a normal routine when he visits. If only you knew it would take one tiny accident for the two of you to get out what you’ve been trying to do for years.

Word count: 983

Disclaimer/s: none, just pure fluff!

A/N: This one’s for all my babygirls(angie)… i see you ladies(angie).. i’m lurkin(freaking).. and im stalking(ur reposts).. when you least expect it(its very evident i tell u every time)…

The smell of freshly cooking bacon wafted throughout your small apartment on the outskirts of Brussels. You’d lived in the city since you were a fresh adult, while starting Uni and hadn’t moved since.

The only difficult part, was the distance it put between you and your best friend, Leo. When he’d moved away for career purposes, you were stuck in Belgium. Although, he did try to visit as much as possible.

Today was during one of those visits. In which, he had always stayed at your place. And every morning, you would wake up to the smell of him cooking breakfast.

Exiting your bedroom with a smile on your face, you shuffle your way into the kitchen. The smell hitting your nostrils in the most heavenly way.

“Leoooo.” You sighed out, accidentally startling him in the process.

“Christ!” He grumbles, “you scared me.”

You laugh, waving away his still wide-eyed state. “Sorry to interrupt, just cannot fathom how good this smells.” Walking toward the stove, your eyes flutter shut. “Maybe I do need to move to the UK.”

Leandro, admiring the way you looked in the morning light, hums softly. “Please do.”

Taking a few steps back so the man could take the pieces of bacon off the pan, you nod thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, moving to a whole ‘nother country for a friend wouldn’t make a very good reason on my resignation letter.”

Rolling his eyes, Leandro moves to open the waffle maker, diligently taking them out one by one. “Just say you’re getting married or something.” He kids, turning to you with a teasing look.

You loved moments like this, when he was more playful than serious. It was a moment just like this, all those years ago, that made you realize you were deeply in love with him.

“Yeah? And who would I be marrying?” You quirk an eyebrow, taking a plate from the newly cleaned stack before handing it to him.

Leandro begins his process of making you a traditional Belgian waffle as he speaks, “well, me of course?”

It was a joke, of course it was. But that didn’t stop your stomach from flipping. Before you know it, you’re speaking again. “Ah, my childhood dreams of our marriage, finally fulfilled?”

You’d mean’t that to come out as a joke, but the way his gaze landed on you, his lips tugged into a lopsided grin, eyes twinkling in the light, oh you’d really meant it.

“You dreamt about that?” He asks, his voice still laced with humor, but with a little bit of something you couldn’t quite place. Something a little more.. wishful.

Cheeks burning a light shade of red, you shrug, trying to find a way to play it off. “Don’t let that get to your head.”

He finishes the waffle, adding a few extra strawberries on the side just the way you liked. “It already has, sorry.” Leandro hands you the plate, his face amused as he watches your eyes roll.

Taking the plate, you tense at the sudden flesh to flesh contact, your hands then failing to grip the plate once his pull away.

A loud shattering sound making the both of you jump back, “shit!” You grumble, slouching down to pick up some of the pieces, only for them to be swatted away.

“Don’t!” Leandro snaps, “don’t touch them, you might get cut.” He softens his voice, concern etched across his face as he swiftly moved to grab a broom from the pantry.

While he sweeps it up, you watch with a from. “Sorry, all that hard work and I drop it.”

“It’s okay,” he sighs, eyes flickering up at you. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?” Your eyebrows furrow.

“You just seemed a little tense thats all,” he shrugs it off, dumping the contents into the garbage before putting the broom away.

You—still upset— hadn’t noticed he’d made his way over to you. “Don’t worry about it… i’ll make you more. It’s no trouble.” He reassures, his hands holding your biceps with a comforting squeeze.

“I know, I just feel bad.” You pout, eyes meeting his.

His eyes. His dark raccoon-eque dark circles, which only seemed to lighten when during his bi-monthly visits.

Leandro chuckles, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’d make you a dozen waffles, don’t worry about one. It probably wasn’t that good anyways.”

You pull away from his touch for a second, examining his face. You were certain in that moment, you had never loved him so much.

“I love you.” You blurt out, eyebrows scrunching together.

“I know.” Leandro lets out a breathy laugh, “I love you too.” His hands drop from your arms to his side, already walking back toward the ingredients to make more waffles.

You purse your lips. “No, Leo.” You huff, “I love you.”

He pauses, turning around. “I know, and I said—“

“No, i’m in love with you.”

You said it. After nearly ten years of loving him, so silently, so passionately, you’d finally just said it. And he was quiet. Probably stunned, probably in disbelief.

“And, I said I love you too.” He finally speaks, taking painfully slow strides back toward you.

“Yeah, but I—“

“But nothing.” Leandro tilts his head to the side, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, a feeling you welcome. “I love you, too.”

“Oh.” You blink, subconsciously leaning into his touch, “oh..?”

You two stand like that for a moment, reveling in the moment. An unspoken understanding passing between you in that moment, with you simply reveling in the fact that you’d spent ten long years loving him in silence when the whole time, he’d loved you right back.

You don’t comprehend it when his lips touch yours for the first time, it’s a soft peck. A small, tender act of affection that made your heart do summersaults. Smiling, you press your lips back into his.

DTS , @halfwayhearted & @ar4ujos . Please no comment on how ?? this is i wrote it at 4 in the morning and i have been awake for like 28 hours straight now so…

[reminiscingtonight]

Setbacks

Leah Williamson x Bronze!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

The Prequels: Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five

[WOSO Masterlist]

You had missed this. 

The crowds of people cheering your name. 

The weight of the ball at your feet.

The lioness emblem on your chest. 

You had missed playing for this team, representing your country. 

But what you hadn’t missed was this.

The number of times you’ve been dragged to the ground today is ridiculous. Every time you hit the ground, you can see your girlfriend grit her teeth in annoyance. And your sister. And her girlfriend. And your best friend. And… well you get the point. By the time half time rolls around, you’re covered in bruises and your team is seething. 

When the whistle goes off, you start limping towards the sideline. Leah’s quick to make her way across the field to you, bracing an arm around your waist. 

“I swear, if they touch you again--”

“As much as I love an aggressive Leah, I’d love it less if you got yourself carded over me,” you tease, pressing a kiss against her cheek the second you’re back in the privacy of your locker room. 

Lucy drops into the bench next to you, grumbling under her breath. “Trust me, an angry Leah’s the last thing they should be worried about. If I had it my way--”

You pat your sister’s leg, cutting off her words. “Love you too, but same goes for you.”

“I don’t get it, why aren’t you more ticked about this?”

You shrug. “Trust me, I am. But it is what it is. I’m just happy to be back and playing.”

Those are brave words to live by. 

Challenges against you only increase during the second half. 

Surprisingly, the first card doesn’t come from your girlfriend or your sister. Keira simply rolls her eyes when the yellow card is thrown up into the air after a blatant foul on her part. 

“And I’m not afraid to get a second if she keeps fouling you,” she mutters as she walks past you. You have to fight your grin at her words, still very much wanting to scold your sister’s girlfriend for her retaliatory action. 

Your team’s fiercely loyal, by the number of fouls they’ve committed you’re surprised that not more of them have gotten any cards. 

It all comes to a head when the ball goes out for a corner. The delivery is perfect. On target. 

You have the misfortune of being in the right place at the right time. 

You leap, head making contact with the ball. But in the next second, you feel a hard nudge at your hips. The world spins and you’re hitting the ground before you can throw out an arm. 

The second you land, you know it’s a bad one. A sharp pain shoots through your shoulder and you nearly black out at the feeling. Your face twists into one of anguish as you stay face down, trying your hardest not to move. Every tiny movement sends more jolts of pain across your chest, and you clench your teeth to stop a scream from escaping. 

Lucy’s quick to get to your side, dropping to her knees to place a hand upon your back.

“(Y/N)--” The strangled yelp that escapes your mouth at the feeling of her hand stops your sister in her tracks, hand instantly stilling. 

“Where does it hurt?”

“My arm, che-- chest,” you gasp out, fighting the sudden nausea that hits you. 

“Can you turn around for me?”

You shut your eyes tight, minisculely shaking your head. Even the small movement sends another wave of pain down your arm.

A pair of cleats come streaking towards the two of you, and it’s only the quick thinking of Lucy that stops Leah from throwing herself onto the ground next to you. 

Leah struggles in Lucy’s hands, trying to get to where you’re still curled up on the ground. 

“The hell, Luce, let me go!” she snaps, trying to dislodge the older woman.

Lucy stands strong, knowing if she were to release Leah, the first thing the blonde would do is put a comforting hand on your body. But given your reaction to when she did that moments prior, Lucy knows the extra hand would be the last thing you need.

“I’ll let you go if you promise not to touch her.”

Leah shoots Lucy the most insulted look she can muster. “Excuse me?”

“I think she broke something,” Lucy mutters out, careful not to let you hear her. 

After suffering a torn ACL just last season, you had been hellbent to rehab quickly. Just nearly missing out on the Euros dampened your spirits somewhat, and Lucy knows that if her fears are confirmed, you’d most likely have to sit out the rest of this season as well, something else that you would absolutely hate to do again. 

Leah’s face nearly crumbles at your sister’s words but she nods nonetheless, finally pushing past the other defender. 

“Leah?” you whimper out, ignoring the pain to glance at your girlfriend.

“Hey baby, I’m right here.”

“Can you?” your words are accompanied by the wiggle of your fingers from your uninjured side. As much pain as you’re in, you still wanted the comforting touch of your girlfriend. Leah’s quick to give you what you want, slotting your hands together with a light squeeze.

Lucy rolls her eyes when she sees the action, but Leah ignores the other defender. The two of them sit quietly by your side the entire time it takes the trainers to evaluate you. Leah doesn’t let go of your hands once, only glaring at the trainer when he suggests she does so to bring you more comfort. He’s quick to drop the subject, and it’s only when they move to get you off the field that Leah begrudgingly lets them pry your hands apart. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she whispers, pressing a kiss against your forehead when she overhears them telling Sarina that they’re going to take you to get checked out. 

You numbly give her a nod, not really comprehending what she’s saying from the amount of pain you’re in. But you get the gist of it when you notice the way Leah stares longingly after you as you make your way back into the locker room.

---

You’re staring blankly at the ceiling when you hear the rapid patter of feet. There are a couple shouts of “hey, you can’t be running here!” and “slow down!” but the noises only increase in volume. 

When they stop outside your door, you’re not surprised. Leah had texted you when they finished the game, telling you she’d be here in about half an hour. You simply closed the message without answering. 

You don’t really want to see anyone but you know that the girls would raise hell until at least one of them could lay eyes on you. 

The door slightly cracks open but no one comes in. It’s quite sad how well your team knows you.

“(Y/N)?” The sound of your sister floats through the opening. Her concern is evident just in the way she says your name.

You remain silent, knowing that if you are to say anything, you’d just say something nasty that you’ll end up regretting later. 

“Hey bug, which one of us do you want to come in?”

You shut your eyes, trying to will your tears to go away. This wasn’t fair. You had just gotten back from an injury. And here you are again.

Lucy’s always been an inspiration to you. There’s not a point in your life that you haven’t looked up to your sister. Her everlasting knee issues and the way she’s dealt with them has only made your respect for her grow, but right now, as you’re back in the hospital after having just returned from another injury, you could care less about the comforting words she would try to bring you. 

“She might be asleep.”

“She’s most definitely not asleep.”

The bickering fades into quiet murmuring, and soon you can’t make out any words. 

The door clicks shut. 

There’s a little bit of relief at first. But you know better than to assume they gave up. When you crack an eye open, you’re proven right. Leah stays by the door, not wanting to overcrowd you before you’re ready for it.

“Hi.” She gives you her best smile, but you can see the worry etched clearly across her face. 

That’s enough to set you off. 

“Oh baby,” Leah coos, instantly coming forward to wipe away your tears.

You bury your face into her stomach, holding onto the back of her shirt with your good hand. Leah simply lets you hold onto her, fingers carding through your hair as she whispers quiet affirmations of her love for you.

You’re not sure how much time passes. But eventually your cries die down into sniffles. You don’t pull away and Leah doesn’t either. 

“Broken collarbone.” Despite your words being spoken directly into the fabric, you know that she heard you. Leah stiffens a bit before she tells her muscles to relax. 

“How long?”

“Two months at minimum,” you mutter, face still drawn in a frown.

Leah moves to back up so she can see your face, but you don’t release her shirt. The blonde lets out a quiet chuckle. “You gotta let go of me. I want to see that beautiful face of yours.”

You sit on her words for a minute. As much as you love your Leah cuddles, you do love the ability to see her gorgeous face too. Huffing, you loosen your grip, only letting Leah move far enough so that your hand can come grab the front of her shirt. 

Leah doesn’t say anything about your clinginess. Instead, she gives you a soft smile, hands coming up to wipe dry your face. “There you go. Hey, wait, what are you--”

Leah stares confusedly as you scoot away from her, leaving a decently sized hole next to you. “Please?”

Leah crumbles to your wishes way too quickly. Carefully climbing onto the bed, she slots herself against your good side. You hum happily, quick to drop your head upon her shoulder.

The calm mood doesn’t last long. 

The voices in your head only grow, and it’s not long before you voice them out into the quiet of the room.

“I don’t know if I can do it again,” you whisper, making sure to keep your eyes trained to the wall. 

You can feel Leah tense up slightly, face furrowing in concern again. “Hey, don’t say that. You can do it.”

Your frown deepens, but Leah’s quick to tilt your chin up so you’re making eye contact again. 

“I love you. And I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. You’ll be back in no time.”

When she leans in, you’re quick to receive her kiss. Leah pours every ounce of her love into it, making sure you know how much she loves you. 

You’re sniffling when you pull apart, bottom lip trembling. “But what if--”

“No what ifs. We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

Leah draws you into her arms again, pressing light kisses all along your hairline. Your eyes grow heavy, slipping closed soon after. 

You must drift off for a bit, because the next time you open your eyes, the room is dark. Leah’s still laid out next to you, but you can tell she’s definitely left at least once. There’s a half empty coffee cup sitting on the table off to the side, and Leah’s wearing a sweatshirt that she definitely did not have on before. 

Leah must feel the weight of your stare against her face, her eyes fluttering open. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“It’s morning?” 

Her laughter is light and airy. “No, just wanted to see if you’d actually fall for that.”

Before you have the chance to chastise her, Leah’s phone is going off. She turns off to the side, thumbing at the device before letting out a hum. 

“Can I let Lucy in? She’s been dying to see you ever since you were subbed off.”

You give the blonde a tiny nod. Now that you’ve vented some of your frustrations and cried out some of your tears, the thought of having your big sister around actually sounds like a comforting idea.

The door opens seconds after Leah presses send.

Lucy pokes her head in, relief flooding her features when she notices you awake and alert. Her mouth parts, ready to ask how you are, but a slight shove from her back sends the defender stumbling forward. 

“There’s my favorite Bronze!”

For the first time since your diagnosis, you let out a small smile when you hear Keira’s quip. The pout that falls on your sister’s face is enough to set all of you off, and Leah giggles into your side. 

“Don’t worry Luce, you can be my favorite.”

“Hey!” You gasp, eyes widening at Leah. It’s funny when Keira does it to Lucy, but not when your own girlfriend cracks the same joke to you.

“Sorry, I meant second favorite.”

“You better,” you mutter, not missing the way everyone seems to be taking a piss out of your reaction now. 

Lucy drops into the chair next to you, chuckling under her breath. Her hand comes to a rest on your leg, giving you a comforting pat.

And it’s there, surrounded by some of the people you love most in the world that you know everything will be okay. Yeah, having an injury sucks, but with people like these in your corner, you know you won’t have to go through it alone. 

[thatdamnmutt-exe]

Too Sweet • Charon (Fallout 3)

Plot:

Charon accidentally gets too horny after constantly watching his boss all day. After trying to ignore it, it becomes too much to bare for him.

Pairing:

Charon x Masc!OC (Name: Ren)

Warnings:

Pre Bottom Surgery Masc, Size Kink, Choking, Thigh Riding, Needy!Charon, Hickeys, Blow Job/Face Fucking, Praise, Spitting, and Gay Shit.

Extras:

Maybe I’m a gay lil homo boy for a big ghoul man.

Song:

Too Sweet • Hozier

“I’d rather take my whiskey neat.”

————————————————————————

“Charon, what do you think of this look? These road leathers fit better with my armor.” Ren asked his ghoul bodyguard who was looking around the store, watching others gather what they needed.

Charon grumbled, “Looks good boss.” He avoided looking at Ren. Today was just an off day for him- he felt overly… horny as the humans would say. He didn't understand why, he never feels this way.

Ever since last night when he accidently walked in on his boss changing from his shirt and into one of his own, something in him just clicked. Seeing his boss in his very clearly oversized shirts- god the memory made his pants even more tight. He was so thankful that he had armor on to cover it.

"You didn't even look. Charon, you've been weird all day? Are you doing okay?" Ren asked, concerned for his body guard. Charon grumbled out a 'I'm fine' before moving away to leave the store.

Ren watched, confusion clear on his face as he watched Charon leave. He made his way to pay for the outfit and quickly left the store. He looked around for Charon, calling his name a few times.

"Where did he go?" He moved over to the back of the building, only to be grabbed and pushed up against a wall. "Char-" Ren was cut off by rough lips against his while the other's hips ground against his own. A small moan fell between their lips, making Charon's pants to grow tighter. That small sound drove him mad.

"Ren... last night... fuck you looked so good in my clothes." Charon's hand moved to pin Ren's above his head, his other hand snaking under his shirt. Charon has never been more happy that Ren forgot to put his armor back on.

Charon's thigh moved to open Ren's legs as he moved his leg to grind against Ren's clothed pussy. "Get off on my leg." Charon commanded, his voice deep and raspy. Ren's body shivered as he felt himself pulse at Charon's voice.

"Yes, Charon." Ren breathed out before matching Charon's rhythm, his legs nearly going weak from the sudden spike of pleasure. Charon kept Ren up, absolutely loving how much bigger he was. He loved that he could hold Ren up and in place.

Ren's arms moved to wrap around Charon's neck, his face buried in the Ghoul's chest to muffle is whimpers and moans. He angled his hips a bit, hitting his clit better, sending his legs to shake. His climax slowly climbing as he moved a bit faster.

"C-Charon- can I cum?" His voice comes out muffled against Charon's chest. The words make Charon's eyes roll back, the fact that he could get Ren off by just his thigh, it made him feel so powerful for the first time in forever.

Charon grabbed Ren's neck, squeezing slightly as he tilt his head back before spitting in his mouth. Ren was caught off guard at first, but ended up swallowing. “Cum for me- Show me how good my thigh feels.”

Ren’s head spun as he felt his legs nearly give out as he came hard against Charon’s thigh. His grip on the ghoul tightened as his breath was shaky. “Charon!” He moaned against the ghoul’s chest, the sound muffled by the chest.

Charon held onto Ren until the smaller composed himself and moved himself to lean against the building. It had been awhile since Ren had done anything like that and it hit him hard.

He looked up at Charon, lust still in his eyes as he moved down to his knees. His hands moved to rest on Charon’s buckle, his eyes trained up at the ghoul, waiting for permission. Ren earned a grunt as a response, giving him all the permission he needed.

His fingers worked fast to undo the belt and throwing it to the side. He moved the pants low enough to reveal Charon’s decently sized dick. He takes it into his hands and slowly starts pumping, making the ghoul groan and move to rest his arm against the wall, leaning against it for support. “Just like that.” He huffed out while his eyes closed.

Ren moved his face closer before doing small licks against the tip, licking up all the precum. Within a second, Ren took most of the ghoul’s length into his mouth. He hallowed his cheeks and sucked a bit while his tongue focused on the tip. His hand pumping the rest of the shaft while his other hand massaged the balls.

Charon, who was unaware of just how skilled Ren was with his mouth, became a grunting mess at this new sensation. His free hand moved to grasp a handful of Ren’s hair to hold him in place before rocking his hips, face fucking his boss.

Ren gagged a bit and struggled to gain breath from Charon’s sudden harsh movements. As sudden as the actions were, they couldn’t help but turn Ren on more from how Charon manhandled him.

“Keep doing that- I’m going to-“ Before Charon could finish, he came down Ren’s throat, forcing the smaller to swallow it all. It was bitter, as to be expected. Ren didn’t pay attention to that, he was too focused on making sure he sucked out the last drop.

Charon slowly started to let Ren out of his grasp, allowing him to breathe. Ren moved to stand and lean against the wall, his head spinning from the lack of oxygen.

Before Ren could say anything more, an arm wrapped around his waist and held him close. Ren looked up and was met with Charon’s eyes. They were full of need, lust, love, confusion, and desire. The ghoul was very unfamiliar with this territory, but what he did know was that he wanted to explore it more with Ren.

“Charon?” Ren’s voice broke the silence, his voice scratchy and hoarse. Charon didn’t answer, he instead pulled Ren closer, kissing him deeply as he did.

Ren understood what Charon was trying to tell- show- him what he was feeling and thinking. He smiled in the kiss as his heart fluttered. He loved the Ghoul with his whole heart.

————————————————————————

“My coffee black in my bed at 3,

you’re too sweet for me.”