#lmao y tho

[katszumi]

“have you seen the abs on that man?” hagakure sat across of you. “sexy on a stick, i swear!” she giggles. she was going on and on about the guy that starred in the superman movie you girls put on last night. henry cavill was his name.

mina agrees with her statement with a nod. “he’s the hottest white man i’ve ever seen before.”

“sure, he was hot, but are we forgetting the misogynist comments he’s made? sexy is one thing, but being controversial is a whole ‘nother thing.” uraraka inserted her input.

“oh, please. i’d cook and clean for him anyday he asks.” mina retorted. both uraraka and yaoyorozu shake their head in shame.

“speaking of controversial.” uraraka murmurs under her breath, you peer over your shoulder, wondering the intent of her statement.

you notice bakugou making his way over to your desk, his eyes planted on you and you only. you shift uncomfortably. why the hell would he be coming to you? did you do something?

once he makes his way to your desk, you look up at him with a half smile.

“hey, bakugou. what’s up?”

his eyes analyze the other girls before looking back down on you.

“my pencil?”

you flutter your lashes at him. “pencil..?” you repeated in a trance of confusion.

he groans. “the fuckin’ pencil i gave you last week. i need it back.”

now it all clicks. you nod, laughing nervously because of your stupidity. you reach in your backpack and grab the black mechanical pencil that you forgot to lend back to bakugou.

your arm extends to the male in front of you, waiting for him to snatch it back.

“sorry.”

he gently grasped onto the pencil, his hand brushing against your fingers for a small moment.

“it’s whatever. just rather not be the one to find you after i lent you something.” he shoved the pencil in his pants pockets, leaving his hands in there. “that’s one of the last pencils i have.”

you shoot your eyebrows up in defense, quickly lowering them after. your eyes falling down to your desk for comfort.

“well, hope you take care of that one.” it was a half-joke. a lame one, might you add. you were just unsure on what to say. especially since it seemed like bakugou was lingering around your desk. as if he didn’t want to return to his seat just yet.

“so, what’d you score on your test?”

“ah…it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t horrible.”

“well?” was he really desperate to know that bad? you knew bakugou was smart, so he probably only wanted to know so it could boost his ego.

you rubbed your arm out of shame. “a seventy-nine.” you stared at his face to recognize any humility or laughter, but there was none.

he shrugged. “should’ve asked for my help if you needed it.”

right. you almost forgot that bakugou offered to help you study and go over notes with him for the next test. it was such an out-of-bakugou thing to do that you nearly didn’t take him serious.

you nodded slowly, processing his information.

“i was planning on making it up, so maybe for that.”

“fine.” his short one-worded response was dull. but what else did you really expect? “next time, don’t steal my pencil.” was his last comment before leaving your presence.

you sat in your thoughts, reeling the conversation back in your mind. what the hell just happened? it was the most simple yet confusing conversation you’ve ever had. was bakugou joking with you or was he seriously irritated with the pencil situation?

regardless, you made a mental note that bakugou was very protective over his mechanical pencils.

once bakugou returned to his seat, he unzipped his backpack, secretly opening his pencil box. within the box were a collection of pencils. there were so many pencils that he could give one to all of class 1a and 1b and still have few left.

aside sat denki who was clearly peeking inside of bakugou’s bag.

“damn, bakubro. you saving up pencils for a potential pencil outage or something?” it’s denki. of course, he never used his inside voice.

“i will literally blow you out this fuckin’ window and across the lot.” bakugou turns his head immediately, a faint pink blush spreading across the apples of his cheek.

bakugou just didn’t want you to know that the pencil was obviously an excuse to talk to you.

pt 2 of the study sesh

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

your boyfriend has a little habit of being sort of..spacey. or at least he looks like he is.

despite his..ditzy and aloof appearance. shouto is very acutely aware of his surroundings.

especially when you’re in said surroundings.

he’s walking along the hallways with his friends, they’re chatting about everything and nothing, school and about the results of their last test. shouto doesn’t feel the need to interject, happy to simply listen and respond when he’s spoken to. except his mind is also kind of elsewhere at the moment because even in there he’s looking for you.

no matter what he’s doing, shouto todoroki has a piece of you in his mind. if his friends are worrying about their test results he’s perfectly fine, cus he studied with you. the letters he sends to his mom talk about his daily life, with little details about you sprinkled in. his father is trying to coerce him into coming to his agency again, shouto thinks it’d be a lot more enjoyable if you were with him.

you’re not with them right now, because mr. aizawa had asked you to send in some papers to the teacher’s lounge. you said you’d catch up with your friends as soon as possible and shouto’s listening, he really is. but he’s also scanning the crowd hoping to catch a little glimpse of you.

“what about you, todoroki ?”

shouto blinks, hearing his name come out of his freckled friend’s lips as he blinks at him expectantly with a smile. ochaco and iida also seem to be awaiting a response.

okay, so maybe he hadn’t been listening as well as he claimed..

“i’m sorry. i didn’t catch that last part, what were you saying ?” he asks bluntly, midoriya doesn’t mind and he repeats “i was asking you how you think your test went.” he chirps, shouto hums thinking about the question.

“i studied well for it, so i think it went well,” his friends hum, iida congratulates him for staying focused on his academics, waving his hand around in chopping motions.

and of course, shouto is always looking for you, so nobody’s surprised when he adds “yn also helped me study, so i think i’ll be..”

everyone is surprised though when he suddenly trails off. and without another word shouto walks ahead of his friends further down the crowded hallway. the lack of “oh, give me a second.” or “ i’ll be right back.”, the lack of anything stuns the three students so hard they freeze into place. they wonder what could’ve made him speed off in such a hurry, until ochaco gets a good look and points towards the dual haired boy.

ah, shouto’s found you.

you’re surprised to see him, your eyes widen “oh, hey sho !” he returns your greeting, his face hasn’t really changed from an outsiders point of view, but he leans in towards you the moment the words leave your lips and his whole face has gone soft, almost pudgy when you smile at him.

“i didn’t except to see you, you scared me !”

he blinks at that, shock settles onto his face as he bows his head in shame “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to..” simple, but earnest and it makes you melt.

“oh no, no ! you just popped up outta nowhere and it surprised me is all, got nothing to be sorry about.” you reassured, shouto’s expression changes and he returns, nodding happily.

“i missed you.”

you snort “i was gone for at most 10 minutes, shouto.”

“it was 11 minutes. and i missed you during that one extra minute, too.” if he had a tail, it’d be wagging at the speed of sound the way his face brightens when you laugh. you call him unbelievable and a small smile grows on his face

he’s just about to ask if you need help with your bag when you suddenly wave behind him. at your friends, who all share a sort of teasing, but also absolutely not surprised look.

oh, woops..

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[aakeysmash]

okokok, so. idk if you write for megumi, buuuttt:

secret relationship au! between megumi and reader; resulting in them having to reveal the secret because:

"gojo sees through all of megumi’s lies and actually finds out that megumi and reader are dating each other"

(i love coming up with these)

You open your locker after finishing up your training lesson to get some water. You're surprised when a folded piece of paper comes out of it, but you hurry nonetheless to pick it up and make it seem like you dropped something out of your hands instead. You put it in your pocket just in time, because you suddenly feel a strong arm draping over your shoulders.

"Hey, you!"

Looking up you find Yuuji grinning and Nobara just behind him, waving gently at you before smacking the pink haired male on the back of his head. He winces and immediately starts running.

"Learn what it means to give people personal space, you idiot!" she screams, chasing him down the hallway with her hammer in her hand, ready to strike him. You sigh, smiling at their antics.

You turn around to close your locker door, when you find a figure right next to it and you blush.

"Hey," mumbles Megumi, shily lifting a corner of his mouth.

"Hey, handsome," you answer, watching if anyone is near you before kissing him lightly on his cheek. You and Megumi have gotten together quite recently, and you both agreed on not making your relationship known, both for your own peace of mind and for saving the annoyance you'd have to deal with from your friends. You walk beside each other, going toward professor Gojo's classroom while having small talk: he asks you how you're feeling, how training went and what he can do to help your sore muscles feel better.

"Did- did you read the note, by the way?" he asks, avoiding your gaze and scratching behind his red ears.

"Oh, you put that in there? I still have-"

"If it isn't my two favorite students coming in late! Come in, come in!" a booming voice says behind both of you, startling you. You hear Megumi clicking his tongue at the sound of Gojo's nagging, while you resort to chuckle behind your hand. You sit down at your desk, which is the furthest from Megumi's one, when you feel a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at you. A shiver runs up your spine and you realize you've never felt more intimidated, incapable of moving and scrutinized than how you're feeling right now.

"Do you have something to share with the class, Megumi? Maybe something about one of your classmates?" you hear Gojo singing from the teacher's desk. You widen your eyes, your head snapping toward your boyfriend's inscrutable face.

"No, professor."

"Not even the love letter you so graciously wrote to our sweet yn?"

And that's how you're forced to reveal your not-so-secret relationship in front of an overjoyed and jumping Yuuji and a pained Nobara, who not even so quietly tells you that if you ever need a psychologist she knows a good one.

read the tags!! thank you anon for sending me this prompt, it was def out of my comfort zone lol

[sinnabee]

Congratulations on your new semi-permanent experimental position as the Official Daycare Assistant and Attendant Handler!

Now, you may have heard from a few of your coworkers that the Daycare Attendant can get a little... overeager, at times. But we can assure you that these are merely rumors, and should promptly be ignored - after all, the Daycare Attendant is always excited to start the day off with a smile!

Welcome to the Fazbear Family! We're sure you'll love your time with us!

And remember: you have nothing to worry about.

[starheirxero]

All gods have to start their fall from grace somewhere…

A few close-ups under the cut :3

[tiny-feisty-gay]

sorry i was just thinking about them during the final battle interacting and being so connected while fighting for their lives

the wives ever

[dantaku]

Im not crazy right?

In season one, after Sky gets ashed by the hexcore and Viktor reads her journal and stuff. You can kinda see some plants drawings and the like? so now after season 2 arc 2 im sitting here like:

The plants on the community Viktor made were done with Sky's research!!!! RIGHT??

im convinced her idea was to make resilient plants that could thrive on Zaun's harsh enviroment, to give her people food they could harvest! so thats why they are there at the colony, working and being munched on by both jinx and vi-

LIKE, IT MAKES SENSE, IT CHECKS OUT DOESNT IT???

[rougepancake]

hiii! It’s me again! I loved how you wrote my Sabito request 💗 do you think you can write a sanemi x afab fem? maybe a stuck in a closet together trope? Thank you❤️

HAPPILY, GLADLY, YES YES

F U

Ft. Sanemi Shinazugawa

Warnings: You get stuck in a closet 😘, Afab!Reader, enemies to lovers??, hate sex, oral (m!receiving), degradation, college au!, Sanemi goes feral. Porn with plot (sorry guys-). Minors and ageless blogs dni!

Summary: You and Sanemi get into an argument in the gymnasium on campus, in which you shove him into the storage closet and he pulls you in with him. Too bad when the door closed it was locked, and you were trapped.

“Oh for fucks sake! Why do you always have to bother me, hm?!?” You glared, crossing your arm’s defensively as Sanemi walked towards you slowly.

“Me? Bothering you? I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around, bitch.” He spat, jabbing his finger into your shoulder as you backed away from him.

“Really?? The best insult you have is bitch?!” You laughed, smiling sinisterly. “I’ve been called better by worse. You’re gonna have to up your game, rat.”

His eye visibly twitched as he stood, his fist curling by his side as he stared you down. “What did you just say?” His tone was threatening, but it wasn’t anything new to you, so you challenged him.

“I said you’re a rat! I mean just look at that hair! Those scars! Ugh! Get out of here man!” You pointed towards the door with your thumb, placing your other hand on your hip.

Without warning, he lunged at you, attempting to hit you only to miss. Quickly, you moved out of the way and kneed him in the stomach, causing an audible ‘oof’ to slip past his lips. He grabbed your ankle while he was down and took you down too, a shout of surprise escaping you.

“You’re a dick!” You panted, barely dodging another punch thrown by Sanemi. You must’ve really struck a nerve this time, but then again, an eye for an eye.

Following that rule, you threw a punch of your own, hitting him right on the cheek and sending him backwards. The sound of your fist on his face echoed throughout the gym, along with your labored breathing mixing with his. Slowly, you rose to your feet, getting prepared to throw another one just in case.

But Sanemi just sat on the floor in silence, his jaw hanging open and his hand on his cheek. It must’ve been one hell of a punch if it left the guy speechless.

Just like you, got up slowly, rage shining in his eyes. He took his time walking over to you, the tension between you growing.

He stood before you, his hand still on his cheek as he scoffed. “And you said I’m the dick?”

“I’m not the one that lunged at a helpless young woman.” You smirked, mocking him. He took another step towards you, forcing you to take one back. He was close, too close, and you didn’t like it.

“You’re far from helpless.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “But you aren’t far from being the biggest bitch on the campus.”

“I know, it’s so sad. But that title is yours, I’m afraid.” You chuckled, getting in his face with a shit eating grin. “I’m sorry you’re nothing more than a pussy, Shinazugawa.” You poked his chest gently, enraging him further.

He shoved you against the wall, knocking the air out of you entirely. You coughed, putting your arms up in defense. Frantically, you looked around and saw that the storage closet’s door was open slightly, a perfect spot for you to trap him. Then you’d be free for today.

Mustering up as much strength as possible, you pushed him away and straight into the closet, a smile of relief gracing your lips. As you turned around to quickly close the door behind you, his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back as the door trapped both of you in there.

“Fuck! Look what you’ve done!” You shouted, trying to get the locked door to budge, only to fail. Sanemi didn’t respond to you, instead he sat on the floor in absolute silence, his eyes staring at you intensely.

“Hey, quit your staring.” You slid down to the floor in defeat, returning Sanemi’s intense glare.

“You’re such a fucking bitch.” He mumbled, slowly crawling over to you. “It’s so hot.” He smirked deviously, watching your reaction closely. Thankfully, it was dark, so he couldn’t see your red face, but he could still tell you were embarrassed.

“Oh what’s wrong Y/N? The cat got your tongue?” He crawled between your legs, his body warm against yours.

“W-What the hell’s gotten into you?!” You blushed, doing your best to keep up your tough guy act. With a deep chuckle, Sanemi wrapped his hand around your throat, his eyes glinting sadistically in the dark.

You grabbed his arm, a slightly pained look on your face as you took short and heavy breaths. “You f-fucking a- ah~! H-hey!” You moaned out quietly, Sanemi’s rough hand groping your breast harshly as he choked you.

He was watching you intently once again, not saying a word as you squirmed helplessly under him. He was enjoying the sight and it pissed you off.

“You’re always teasing me.” He growled, his grip on your neck tightening. “You’re so damn annoying.” Sanemi let go of you and stomped over to the other end of the room, his boner shining in all its glory from across the room.

“W-Wha-“ You panted, rubbing your throat gently as you stared at him with confusion. A gentle cough passed through your lips as you caught your breath. “So would you like some help with that or like do you want me to turn around or something??” Your tone was sarcastic, but you were dead serious.

Sanemi may have been a pain in the ass but he was still incredibly attractive. Especially in a situation like this.

You saw his shadow look up at you with surprise, causing a sinister smirk to grow across your lips. “Well? Yes or no, tough guy.” You whispered, crawling towards him slowly as you spoke.

You felt him tense up slightly as you placed your hands atop his thighs. “Well… since you offered…” He smirked, placing his hand on your head as you undid his belt. He shivered at the rush of cold air, his cock twitching slightly.

You began to palm him slowly, putting just enough pressure to make him squirm. Sanemi threw his head back as he let out a breathless and shaky moan, his hips bucking upon contact. He pushed your head down, staring at you through squinted eyes and hoping you’d get the hint.

Yeah you took that hint and ran with it.

You licked your lips as you pulled down his boxers, watching as his cock sprang free from its confines. He didn’t even give you time to get a feel for him, instead he just shoved your head down and began fucking your throat like there was no tomorrow.

He watched as you gagged and did your best to keep up with him with a smirk, that look on your face was one he had been dying to see for weeks now.

“G-God y/n~ ugh~” Sanemi’s eyes practically rolled back into his head when you began to massage his balls, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

His hips bucked forward without warning, eliciting a moan from you that sent shivers down his spine and caused his cock to twitch. He was close, and he wanted you to taste him. All of him. He wanted to watch you swallow every last drop of his seed so badly it only made him harder.

He bent down and grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks as he held his cock over your face. His head rolled back as he pumped himself, a loud groan passing through his lips as he came all over your face.

You licked off as much as you could from your lips as he got down on his knees to see you better.

Without any warning, he pushed you onto the floor harshly, nearly ripping your pants off your legs. He had your hands pinned above your head with just one hand, using the other one to quickly prepare you for him.

He muttered things about how wet you were as he aligned himself with your hole, growling obscenities in your ear.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you, slut.”

[seiwas]

some of my fave bakugo fics in honour of bakuday 🥺 (most, if not all, of these are in ao3! which is why i'm listing them. other fave fics of mine that can be found on tumblr will be reblogged!)

you can find other bakugo fics i love in my tag: #katsu

i like to call myself wound but i will answer to knife - kirketeer enemies to lovers, requited unrequited love, kind of love triangle

surrender (whenever you're ready) - ofmermaids florist reader, canonverse, slowburn

on my way (to you) - ofmermaids 5+1, canonverse, time travel

and you take me the way i am - willowser assistant reader, slice of life, bakugo is bad at feelings

how to set fires - hawnks strangers to lovers, canonverse, food as love language

organic chemistry - kirketeer codependency and unlearning it, mutual pining, college au ish

here is my hand that will not harm you - natsuonii bodyguard au, mild violence, mentions of scars

in the dark of the morning, you promise me the sun - kirketeer character death (not the main characters), grief/mourning, slow burn

dry spell - willowser established relationship, semi-public sex, miscommunication

for auld lang syne - some-kindofgnome canonverse, near-death, drinking

you feel like home (you're like a dream come true) - willowser light angst, kind of exes to lovers?

i do not know if i should hold you or eat you - katsukiz hurt/comfort, soft sex

love to say this to your face: "i love you only" - willowser dragon king bakugo, arranged marriage, a little drunk

[chipchopclipclop]

enjoy this bunch of chibi’s ive been drawing for the nanago big bang updates on twitter, i do so enjoy morphing them

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"Be right back," you announced to Rosita and Carol, getting up and rushing to the front door. You couldn't help the wide smile that formed when you realized it was Daryl standing there waiting. "Hi," you greeted him warmly. "What's up?" The heat and humidity of summer had finally broken and given way to a gloriously beautiful autumn day. His wavy brown hair was lightly tousled from the wind.

He seemed nervous, shifting his weight back and forth, turning something copper colored and fuzzy over and over in his hands. "Uhh—just wanted to drop this off for ya..." He thrust the orange something into your hands and your fingers sunk into velvety soft fox fur. A pelt. "I trapped it last year and made it into scarf-kinda thing 'n—the weather's turned now and all. Thought ya might need it." He stood there looking as if he was somehow imposing on you by standing on your front stoop. "Yer always cold, ya know," he drawled, trailing off at the end.

"Thanks," was all you managed and it was woefully inadequate. You were a little surprised by the whole occurrence.

"No problem," he said, ducking his head and turning to rush down your front steps.

"Hey—Daryl!" you called after him. "Rosita and Carol are here. We were just having some drinks... Carol stole some wine from the pantry. If you wanted to come in?"

He looked like he was considering saying yes for a brief moment, chewing on his bottom lip, but he eventually ducked his head. "Nah... ya'll have a good time. I dun wanna get in the way of a girls' night."

He'd already turned to leave again when you said his name once more. "Daryl!" you called after him again. "You're never in the way," you asserted, cocking an eyebrow up at him.

He nodded, one corner of his mouth twitching up. "Thanks. But I'll just see ya around, alrigh'? Dun drink too much," he cautioned you.

You watched him rushing away up the sidewalk and disappeared back inside, turning the fox fur over and over in your hands the same way he had been.

"What's that?" Carol asked as you stepped back into the kitchen.

It took you a moment to even register that she'd said something to you. "Huh? Oh. It's a fox fur scarf. Daryl just dropped it off," you said. "I'm not sure why—but he said the weather's turned and—" Carol and Rosita exchanged a look and you saw it. "What? What was that look?" you asked urgently.

Rosita let out a dry laugh as if the meaning was the most obvious thing in the world. "Hey, stupid. He likes you," she said pointedly.

You stared at her. "He just knows I'm—I get cold easily..." But even you sounded unconvinced.

Carol rolled her eyes and reached for the bottle of wine again. "God, all this denial is making me sick," she joked, shooting you a look. "Daryl Dixon gifting you something he made with his own hands is the equivalent of a male peacock spreading its tail feathers. This is your signal. Earth to Y/N! Do something!"

You felt your cheeks flush. "What am I supposed to do?" you asked rhetorically.

Rosita shoved the unopened bottle of wine toward you on the table, her eyebrows lifting. "Take this over to his room in the basement with two glasses and climb in his bed," she laughed. "That should be obvious enough even for him."

"Stop..." you muttered, still flushing furiously.

Carol finished pouring more wine into her own glass. "Just do something! The man is doing his best and Lord knows he needs some help," she smiled.

Prompt: "Hey, stupid. He likes you." A/N: Fuck, this is cute. Not me wanting to write this as a whole ass fic....

[mo-ok]

🖤 cool guys and cowboys 🖤

🌠

[lightseoul]

this with hawks or katsuki 😭🗣https://youtube.com/shorts/nAARZhCZydk?feature=share

link

a/n. OKAY first of all, i apologize for taking so long to respond to this ask! second of all, i modified the prompt from it being a childhood friends to lovers trope to an au where reader is bakugou's long-term sidekick of two years, just so that we won't diverge too much from canon! (part 2)

word count. 1.4k

"hey, dumbass."

you look up from the mission report you've been sticking your nose in for the past half hour. "i thought i told you to stop calling me that."

at that, he smirks. "you'd rather i call you 'extra'?"

"i'd prefer it if you called me by my hero name, Mr. Dynamight."

his eyebrow twitches at the sound of his moniker. "i thought i told you to stop calling me 'mister'."

you shrug. if he's playing the game, you will too.

"well," you cock your head to the side, "tough luck, huh?"

you drop your gaze back to the document before you can catch the infamous scowl that is indubitably directed at you. not that you're actually comprehending anything, though.

lately, being around the pro-hero has made it almost impossible to focus on your work.

which is stupid, because he's your boss and your his sidekick. focused, flawless teamwork is supposed to be the point.

what's more, the physical sensations are getting dangerously near the what-you-would-exprience-if-you-were-smitten area: sweaty palms, racing heartbeat, and your eyes darting towards wherever he is in a room.

or...you could just be scared of him, right? if there's anyone who can trigger your fight-or-flight mode, it's bakugou katsuki.

"you're lucky your my sidekick," he sneers.

you dare not look at him. you can almost feel him sporting that boyish smirk, and you know your heart can't take that.

what the fuck.

"hey, extra."

you look over your shoulder only to see bakugou decked in his hero gear, covered in dirt and grime from the day's work—eyebrows furrowed. you ignore him, directing your attention back to the front, where you're walking towards.

but he pipes up with: "i'm talking to you!"

you scoff. spinning on your feet to face him, you shoot him a glare. "would it really kill you to just call me by my hero name? heck, i'd even let you call me by my first name!"

at that, bakugou's eyebrows shoot up so minutely. "you serious?"

"does it look like i'm joking?" you ask, exasperated.

a few seconds pass before he responds.

"well, then," he shifts on his feet like he usually does. "i guess i'll call you Y/N."

your stomach flips at the sound of your name tumbling from his lips. you mentally chastise yourself before saying: "okay."

"great."

you're staring at your ceiling; the clock reads 2:34 AM.

with a huff, you turn to your side, feeling awake now more than ever.

the past week has been grueling—on top of the back-to-back missions that you had to work on with bakugou as his sole sidekick (he refuses to add another one, says the candidates are all just extras), you had to deal with these confusing feelings, which, no matter how much you try to extinguish them, will not go away.

it's affecting your performance now, too. one particular stealth mission forced proximity between the two of you, and you almost blew it with how you freaked out at having bakugou only a few inches away.

luckily, bakugou didn't say anything about it.

but a part of you—the part that's struggling so much because of him—wishes he did.

you're in his office when you decide to drop the bomb.

"the fuck is this?" he gestures to the document in front of him.

you steel yourself. it's now or never.

"it's my resignation letter," you say as calmly as you can.

a whirlwind of emotions dances across his features, before it turns into an all-too-familiar scowl. "what?"

"i'm resigning," you repeat.

"i heard you," he spits, "i just couldn't believe such ludicrousness can come from your mouth."

at that, you can't help but scoff. "even until my last day here you're still trying to pick a fight with me?"

"who said i'm trying to pick a fight?" he counters.

"i am!" you exclaim.

you contemplate whether or not to tell him he's been doing so ever since your first mission together, ultimately deciding against it. the last thing you need is to add anger to the long list of emotions you feel around your boss.

adoration and longing are already a huge pain in the ass.

"look," you lower your voice in an attempt to be civil. "i signed a contract which says i have the right to terminate my employment anytime, provided that i give you a heads up and a proper resignation letter."

you point to the document in front of you, "well, here it is."

before bakugou can even get a word in, you spin on your heel and march towards his office's exit.

your phone is ringing.

you hit pause on the Netflix show that you're currently binging before lifting your phone to your ear. "hello?"

"hey, Y/N?"

"that's me."

"oh hey!" the man on the other side of the line says again. "this is kirishima."

kirishima as in red riot kirishima? "hi," you parrot back lamely. "what's up?"

"i know this is a tall order," he starts, "but would it be possible for you to pick bakugou up? he's super drunk and asking for you."

your breath hitches. you must be hearing things yet you can't refrain yourself from prodding. "asking for me?"

"yeah. we have denki as our designated driver but bakugou refuses to go with him. he just keeps mumbling your name."

"you can drive, right?" he asks when you don't say anything.

"um, yes." you say, unsure if admitting it is the right decision.

"then please pick your ex-boss up," kirishima pleads, "he's refusing to go with anyone but you."

kaminari and kirishima are the ones that haul bakugou up to the passenger seat when you arrive nine minutes later. sure enough, bakugou, who's dressed to the 9s that it's fucking ridiculous how good he still looks, reeks of alcohol.

once they got him situated and secured in his seat belt, they circle the front of your car and knock on your window, which you promptly open.

kirishima's sheepish when he says, "we owe you one, bro."

"yeah," kaminari adds, "sorry for calling you up this late."

you smile at their genuineness, "it's no problem. i guess i can do him one favor after resigning so abruptly."

"why did you resign?" kaminari asks almost immediately.

"dude," kirishima chastises the man. bakugou remains passed out beside you.

"sorry," kaminari rubs the back of neck. "it's just that you guys were such a good team together."

"yeah," kirishima joins in. "we used to say you were the key to him becoming number one. you guys were that good together."

despite yourself, your face flames at his words. "yeah, well..."

"we understand if you don't want to talk about it, though," kirishima says.

"we're just a bit bummed out that you parted ways," kaminari adds. "he liked you a lot."

that earns him a slap on the arm and a pointed look from kirishima.

your heart is now thrumming at a ridiculously fast pace.

"well, we better go," you change the topic.

"of course! sorry for keeping you," kirishima says before proceeding. "oh, and here's his address."

turns out bakugou is heaver than he looks.

you're standing outside the car thinking about how to haul him up to his unit alone—with the passenger door wide open—when he stirs awake.

almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace.

"bakugou?" you try, voice small.

his eyes dart open when he realizes he doesn't know where he is. he looks panicked as he looks around, until he spots you and visibly stills.

"Y/N."

your stomach flips—again—the second he utters your name. "i'm here."

"where am i?" he asks groggily.

you glance toward the building behind you. "we're at your place."

it takes him a moment to register what you just said, brain probably still foggy from the alcohol.

"can you stand?" you ask after a few seconds of silence.

he shakes his head. "i don't want to go yet."

"but you're drunk," you reason. "you have to sleep it off."

bakugou doesn't say anything in response. he merely studies your face—or is trying his best while drunk—and you find yourself hoping he can't feel the warmth emanating from your face.

but when he does say something, it knocks you off your feet and pulls all the air out of you.

"i want to kiss you right now."

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik

as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! ˖⁺‧₊

[aeb-art]

even in a story with reader insert, i'm still putting myself in there separately ahahaha so here's another lil thing with some of @venomous-qwille's characters

and then the moment they leave the room:

[yandere-yearnings]

HEAVENCALL (??? x Fem!Reader)

feat. Cecilia Romano

♡ oneshot, approx. 1k words

♡ post-specific warnings: NSFW, sub + bottom afab reader, fingering (reader receiving), 'good girl' used on reader, depictions of gore and violence, masochism & sadism, Stockholm syndrome, abuse, collaring, blood play, (extreme) knife play, implied mind break, implied imprisonment, vaguely implied reference to cannibalism, extreme toxicity, DDDNE

♡ a/n: most important thing to anyone reading this is to pls be mindful of the content warnings above and to not read if you think it could be triggering for you. this is vv dark fiction and i legit cannot stress that enough. a lighter christmas fic will be posted soon, which can be viewed alternatively.

this is @unhappy-last-resort's gift for our secret santa fic exchange!! unhappy i'm gonna need you to forgive me for how shitty this turned out lmao. i lied when i said it would be my last rewrite and got wasted so i could churn smth out before today. i'm burnt out to all fuck and too tired to fix the medical inaccuracies drunk me did not consider so pls pretend that the femoral artery does not exist and the bleeding is venous otherwise our reader is technically dead and not just passed out💀 this is purely a work of fiction. yandere behaviour in real life is a cause of concern. proofread, unedited.

♡♡♡

It was because you hadn’t seen light in days. Chained up to this wall, waiting like a dog for your angel to come down to you — sensitive eyes, slithers of blinding white around her silhouette looking like a luminous halo. Deaf to her footsteps, blind to the blood on her dress or the stench of it, all you knew was her when she put her hands on you. Learning to treasure it, since it would only be you here grieving every touch you were deprived of when she left.  

“Miserable thing,” fingers smoothing out in your hair turn violent, she tugs, “feel special yet?”

When she chokes you, you do. You think the collar might just cut into your flesh from the force as Cecilia pulls on it. Lips meeting hers, you are whole again with the way her nails dig into your cheek, like she wants to rip the skin right off. Bringing the claim she has on each corner of your soul right to the surface, the sole thing that has become easy for you to understand is that you are ruined for this world.

“Please…” you beg, and you remain unaware of what for. There is something pulsating inside of you, blood beating bones from depths in which a consuming rot grows ugly. Cecilia’s scalpel shows an animal starved, and you recognise that it’s you. The spit and drool come like magic, she wets your dry throat easy with just a few fingers in your mouth — you are hungry. Her knees hit the ground for you, in turn your heart wants to come right up as penance for your unworthiness.

Thin gown bunched up into the crease of your groin, too light to feel any warmth from it — and you are too taken by the coldness of the blade on your thigh to care. Aching for the push, so your body could give way and you could feel the sharpness nestle inside of you, to wrap around something, to bury it in the grave of an open wound. Cecilia keeps a distance your cuffed wrists cannot close, and your desire drips from you with nothing to hide, nor cling to.

Spine lined with explosives, the first graze has the pleasure spark seriatim; the release of pressure you had been neck-deep in brutalises you, and you are delirious on the feel of being ripped apart without the motions. Each score burns. New layers of you are uncovered and exposed to this world and Cecilia wrenches your head down to watch. 

Mouth agape, your drool parts a translucent line over the pooling sangria. “More,” pleading for it, despite how muffled it came out. You want her to rip this chunk of you right off. You want to be between her teeth and down her throat. You want, and it’s butchering. “Deeper,” the tears come with your chest squeezing, come with the choked up moan when her digits bear down on your tongue harder. Your mistake is clear to you the moment you see the wash of those baby blues lock on you, the reverie of bringing the sky down to your prison and the vastness as you lost your mind to it has your breath hitching.

Ringing in your ears dulled to the scattering greys when Cecilia hits you, cheekbone smashing against the wall, sending the vibrations all throughout your skull. Ecstasy takes on the taste of metal. Sure enough, the savage inside of you is unsettled, is not yet satisfied.

“When have I ever let you command me?” Her knife edge twists, makes ribbons of your tissues — makes you writhe deliciously. “Do you think you have a will?”

“No.” The answer needs no contemplation, it has been ingrained in you. “‘M sorry,” your vision spots when you crane your neck, you’ve been putting more and more of your weight into the bricks, your shackles sting. “Was so good I went dumb, ‘m sorry. I won’t do it again,” you sniffle, “p-please…”

Acutely aware of the moment the surgical steel leaves you; biting your lip to suppress your whimper when the air hits. “That’s better,” and you are sure this is a punishment until Cecilia takes your face, “see, you know how to be a good girl, don’t you?”

Something hot floods your guts, you’re nodding before you even have a chance to rub your thighs together — not that you’d be allowed to. Her palm is pressing right to the laceration, she keeps you splayed apart like that, and her nails are mere millimetres away from showing you a supernova. Red tracks streak a trail all the way to your core, the fabric in contact with it is damp, is threading clear strings to a place that’s throbbing with need to be desecrated.

All your nerves fray when she sinks in, and just like that, the ability to latch onto her human caress is wasted on you. Only remembering how to stay agape, how to curl your toes and tear from your bottom lip to hold back your moans. Your walls are sopping for her, they slobber just as much as you do for the euphoria Cecilia imposes into you. Gasping her name, flashes of a world outside you no longer want to return to, legs trembling when her thumb comes up. She plays you so well, makes a mess — makes a masterpiece out of all your misery and mortality alike.

Whispering, “you were my best decision,” — and like a blessing, your undoing lays rest to you. Pink slick and pain, everything becomes sweet in this swarming black. Angels. Her laughter, a hymn. Singing. Heavencall.