#maybe the way i worded it in my post was a little weird and easy to misinterpret but THIS !!! THIS IS WHAT I MEANT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 4 months ago

Text

objects in the mirror | j. togame

✮ tags ; afab!reader + fem!reader, reader is so painfully dense / naive, ambiguous relationships, friends to ???, somewhat unrelieved sexual tension, sex toys, guided masturbation kinda, kissing, groping, nipples play, squirting, dialogue heavy, vaguely post canon, petnames (kame-chan and jo-chan for togame, baby for reader) 18+

✮ wc ; 6.4k (you have got to be fucking with me)

✮ a/n ; the one fic i wont be mad if you ask for part two on lolol. title from a mac miller song (my favorite mac miller song) that reminds me of a lot of characters but i felt really fit this fic.

go listen to it. his best track. also this like... mega got away from me. togame sorry for blueballing you.

✮ synopsis ; your only goal is to have a half-way decent orgasm. togame, as your best friend, is determined to help you reach it.

"So," Togame leans back into your bed. "You bought a vibrator and... can't use it? Because you keep psyching yourself out?"

"Yeah," You sigh with your head hung low. "Paid good money for it and it's collecting dust in my drawer. I'm miserable."

Togame smiles a little from where he's laid across the width of your bed, back propped up against the wall slightly with his legs hanging off one edge. You kick his side lightly as he fails to contain his amusement.

"Do you enjoy seeing me suffer, huh? You take amusement in my pain, you bastard?"

"Pfft," He snickers, turning a little to face you better. "It's kinda hard not too. Just seems..."

"You think it's stupid," You frown. He scratches his jaw.

"I wouldn't say that. A little silly but—"

"Which is another word for stupid," You point out. He shakes his head.

"The connotations different. Stupid would mean I'm insulting you. I don't think it's stupid. Ridiculous, maybe." And then he laughs to himself like a jackass. "No... I take it back. It's definitely ridiculous."

"You asshole. I should kick you out of my house."

He smiles knowingly, lazy and bemused. "You're not gonna,"

Smug bastard. You groan in defeat. "But I should."

He doesn't reply, brushing you off as easy as ever. "Sorry. Just not sure what exactly you want me to do with that information."

You throw your hands up in the air. "I dunno? Fucking help me. Offer solutions. Use whats left of your brain after getting the shit beat out of you as a teenager. Something."

"Now who's being an asshole." He quips. You frown.

"I'm sorry," You say easily. Togame smiles softly though you miss it while you're looking away. "But...ugh."

"Got such a way with words." He hums sarcastically before sobering a touch. He's scrolling through his phone not entirely paying attenion. "I don't really get why you're askin' me. Don't you have better candidates for this conversation?"

You give him a long-suffering look. "No. Unfortunately I live here, so the answer is not really. I can't talk to Kotoha or Tsubaki about this. We talk about guys and stuff but it's usually pretty PG."

"So I'm your stand in for a girl best friend?"

You tilt your head. "Huh? No. You're just my best friend. I would bitch to you about this either way."

He stares at you for a long while before scrubbing a hand down his face. You can't understand his sudden reaction, watching in confusion as he takes a deep breath.

"Right. Right, I'm your best friend." Togame mutters mostly to himself, sighing before going back to his usual demeanor. He rubs his under his eye. "Really dunno what you're asking for. You can whine however much you want, though."

"I'm not whining," You pause before sighing again. "Okay. Maybe I am whining, like, a little. But you would too if you were me, okay? I want to..." You make a face, the words suddenly feeling clumsy on your lips. You're not even doing anything and you're getting all weird about it. "I just wanna...cum."

Togame pauses. He sits up, sort of suddenly after that and finally has the decency to take off his boots. He scoots to the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor to do it, and you can't see his face when he speaks again. You don't think twice about it.

"Have you not? Like... ever?"

"Huh? No, I have but it's not really satisfying. It doesn't scratch the itch for me, you know? That's what the toy was for."

Togame takes another minute or two of silence as he takes off his boots. You wonder if it always takes him so long to take them off. Seems inconvenient.

He goes back to laying down, leaning on the wall with his legs spread out. "What kinda toy is it anyway?

"Oh, it's—" You stop in the middle of your sentence, brow furrowing. "Wait. Should I be telling you this?"

"Are you suddenly gaining self-awareness? Little late for that." He smiles.

"That's true," You reply, relaxing again with your arms crossed. "Nothing complicated. A rabbit vibrator, but the kinda expensive ones."

"How much?"

"Twelve-thousand yen. I got it on sale too,"

"No wonder you're so peeved you can't use it," Togame comments evenly. "A lot of money to be collecting dust. You even take it out the box?"

You deflate all over again. "Yeah. Charged it. Cleaned it too. But I put it back."

"Lemme see,"

"Huh? Oh, okay. Sure."

You don't bother asking why Togame wants to see your sex toy. It doesn't occur to you that there'd be any reasons outside of plain curiosity which you can understand. Togame dated a girl long-term so he knows some things, but you figure any girl with a decent boyfriend wouldn't need to make the same use of toys as you do. It'd make sense he's never seen one up close and personal.

You scoot to the edge of the bed and lean slightly as you open the side drawer and pull the toy out where it sits in nice, cardboard package. You pass it off to Togame before sitting back comfortably against your headboard.

He sits the box in his lap and stares at it for a long while.

You wonder if this is weird.

It doesn't bother you much either way, but it it is...

Odd, just how long Togame stares at it. He undoes the top of the folded box, pulling it back to reveal the soft, baby blue vibrator. It's six inches long and curved, with a soft rubber attachment to stimulate your clit and angle for your g-spot at the same time. Made with a high quality velveteen silicone. It has a lot of settings, and does the sort of rumbly vibrations you know feel good as opposed to the mechanical buzz of cheaper kinds.

Completely unused, Togame holds in his hands for a while, grabbing it by the ends. He doesn't touch it in a way that's weird. More like he assesses it. Measures it. You don't know for what though.

"It's cute."

"Huh?"

"The vibrator, I mean." Togame comments, putting it back in the box. His expression is unreadable. Something simmers under the surface of his neutral face but you can't place what exactly. "It's a cute color and the little pointed part here is cute."

You place a hand on your chest and close your eyes in sincerity. "Thank you. I also think I have excellent aesthetic taste."

Another pause. Brief but not.

"Do you want help using it?"

"Wha—"

"The vibrator," Togame clarifies before you get through the rest of your sentence. "Do you want me to help you use it?"

Your mind blanks. Your mouth moves faster than you can.

"...In what way?"

Togame remains steady. "Getting you comfortable and putting in you. As far as solutions go, it's the best I've got."

...Huh?

"Wouldn't that be awkward for you?"

"Is it awkward for you?" Togame replies back.

You stop to consider the question then shake your head.

"I mean...It's you. I trust you and I'm grateful but this..." You furrow your brow and look towards him. "Can you really do something like that with me? Just to help me?"

"Yeah." He replies. The words come so easily to him you're startled. Was he always this casual? You guess in a way but still. It's surprising. "It's the most direct route to solve your problem, I think. Once you've done it once with someone else, you'll definitely be able to do it alone right?"

You reason about this and find it's a somewhat optimal solution. You can't figure out the exact source of your unease about all of it, though it's there. You can't figure out Togame either. You appreciate how much he seems to want to help you but it doesn't make your worries go away.

You frown a little deeper.

"You're thinking about it too hard." Togame interjects. His tone is warm and easy.

"You're not thinking about it hard enough," You respond back. "What are you trying to do anyway? To help."

"Scratch the itch for you. Just think of it like that."

"Does that do anything for you?"

He dodges the question. "Don't worry about me. I'm offering. Promise it's fine."

You frown with your legs crossed, staring at the empty space of the bed. "...I g-guess it's fine? I can't think of a reason to say no."

"You don't mind doing this with me? Or is it because you're okay with anyone?"

You shake your head.

"What are you saying? Of course it's because you're the one asking. I trust you."

He smiles genuinely at that, eyes closed in what seems like relief. "I just wanted to make sure."

Togame opens his eyes again and casts them your way. Your breathing feels shallow under the weighted glance. He sits up a little more and shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, placing it on the pillow next to you. He feels broader without the layer of fabric over his torso, white shirt stretching over his frame as he sits on the bed on his knees.

"Lay down. Get comfortable."

You nod, adjusting the pillows and things and trying not to feel self-conscious or get cold feet. It speaks to your desperation that you're taking this help so willingly and from your long time best friend no less. In the back of your head, you do feel a little strange.

Togame is just being a good friend, that's what you tell yourself. You believe it too.

He hovers above you first. You tilt your head to look at him, the short gap of space between you feeling particularly small while also being miles wide. Your stomach flutters as Togame's eyes fix on your lips.

He leans forward and presses his mouth to yours. It's chaste. You wonder if you look even half as surprised as you feel.

"What was that for?"

"Breaking the ice."

You mumble. "Oh..."

Togame kisses you again that time, and then one more time before speaking up. "You're so naive."

"Huh? No I'm not,"

He brushes you off again that time before sitting up again. He sits between your legs where you have them spread. You have no idea what he's thinking or why he's doing this.

Unlike most people, you usually do have a good read on what Togame is feeling. He's upfront most of the time, despite his posturing seeming wishy-washy. It's a little weird to feel so out of bounds around him, like he purposely has his guard up. You wonder if that guard is for you, or for him. Is he uncomfortable somehow? Is he trying not to hurt your feelings by not being interested? You're not really expecting that.

But if that were the case, there's no reason he would help you this way.

Before you get too entranced in your thoughts, Togame snaps you out of them.

"How do you normally do this?"

You blink and look up.

"Do what?"

"Get off," Togame answers. Your eyes meet and you find yourself wanting to look away. "You said it was unsatisfying so I thought it'd be better if we started there,"

"Uhm," You feel embarrassed trying to talk about this. You're not sure why. It's not something you'd feel self-conscious outside this specific context but Togame just seems more... intense then usual. Like he's being serious about your silly problem. "D-depends? Sometimes I watch porn or listen to audios or read. Not always."

"Got it. How do you touch yourself then?"

He looks expectant. You turn your head to look away from him. The minutes tick by.

"Uhm... just rubbing my c-clit usually. I have uhm, other toys I'll use sometimes too but I need to touch my clit to get off." You wonder if these are too many details. Togame is listening to it so carefully. "Uhm. If i-its too sensitive I'll touch over my clothes too. Sometimes I cum like that."

His face shifts. It lingers long enough for you to notice but not enough for you to process what it was. He's back to his usual self so quickly you wonder if you've made the entire thing up.

"Right. I think I know what your problem is,"

You feel a little relieved at that. "Really?"

He pauses before smiling a little with a friendly nod that reminds you of how you were when you were kids, a face that's unexpectedly kind. "Really."

You look at him expectantly.

"I think you're not building up to it enough." Togame comments, smoothly. You blink at him. "You're a girl, you know? Can't jump straight into it, you need to stimulate yourself more first and relax. You're so focused on cumming it backfires. I'll help you."

"How...?"

"I'll help you relax and help you figure out what you like. Don't think about it too hard and focus on feeling good."

"You really don't have to do this for me," You mumble. He smiles at you.

"C'mon. You just said I was your best friend right? I don't mind, so chill out and let me help."

"Okay," You nod, bright eyed. "Okay....thank you."

He makes a face at you before nodding. "Uh-huh. Of course."

Togame hovers above you with lazy smile. You close your eyes on instinct as you feel your lips press together. His lips are softer than you thought they'd be. A hand cups the back of your neck and brings you closer to him. The weight of his body makes you self-conscious about his proximity. You can smell the scent of his skin, feel his presence surround you as he kisses you soft to start.

The shift in the air surrounding you is gradual in a way that reminds you so much of Togame. He's not intense at the beginning, never is really is - but then his hand goes to hold your knees and pull your legs up. His tongue slips against the closed seam of your lips until they part, until he touches yours and you have to reconfigure how you breathe. He's so good at kissing you it makes you wonder if he's kissed you before and you can't remember. But then it feels good and you're reminded—

If it felt this good there's no way you would've forgotten it.

When you pull away for air to breathe, or start to stumble through a question on how this is helping - Togame shuts you up. It takes it happening twice for you realize it's deliberate. Every time he kisses you a little deeper, and the last time he slips his tongue in so far you'd think he's trying to eat you whole.

You're wet. You're unsure if you're allowed to feel guilty about it, or if you're even meant too. Anyone would be turned on getting kissed like this. You're really unsure about all of this but you're fine because it's Togame. There's no way he'd do anything bad to you or for you.

He's over protective in general, though he's rarely frank about it.

(If you were any less clueless, you'd would know that most times Togame is doing his best to protect from himself. Most times, he feels like the biggest danger to you)

Togame pulls away from your lips when you moan a little. You feel embarrassed at the state your left in and how he looks at you. Picking you apart in his mind but not with ill intent. Like he wants to know every thread of your want.

Again, you think he's going to tease you. Light but still teasing.

"Does that feel good?"

It's a serious question. It stuns you. Just a little. His hand on the back of neck feels hot. You notice the way his thumb caresses your nape and try not to stutter.

"Uh..y-yeah." You reply, trying not to look stupid. "I like kissing. Uhm. In general."

He doesn't react to that, nods in a way you find curt in comparison to how passionately he was kissing you just moments ago. "It'll help you relax." And then, a little softly. "If you want to kiss again and we're not already, ask."

An odd request but you acquiesce with another soft noise.

"Do you feel a little warmed up?"

His eyes are so strangely shaded in this light. You open your mouth to the awkward confession. "Oh... nn. I'm... y-yeah. I'm wet already."

"From kissing?"

You give him a sheepish look. Togame responds with another kiss that makes you feel like you're being driven into a corner. This one is hot and heavy, doesn't build up but starts with an almost oppressive air. He nips at you, teeth tugging at your lips and licking in earnest to your mouth. Long and deep until your brain feels melty, your thoughts swimming and clouded. Longing for touch and release. Arousal threads through the fibers of your muscles, makes you feel wound up tight - a serpents coil. You clench your thighs on instinct at the worsening wetness.

Your mouth feels swollen and bitten when you pull away again and Togame looks a little more like you're used to him looking. An underlying sense of smug self-satisfactions on his face as he looks down at you, not outweighed by his genuine ease.

A look on his face like he likes your company. You find him comforting in how easy it is to see.

"Is it okay to touch you in other places?"

"Uhm. Anywhere above the belt is fine, I think."

"Makes sense,"

He leans up and slides both hands underneath your hoodie. You're not really prepared for... this. You don't know if you can call it sex or not but whatever it is, you weren't intending for it to happening.

"You're not wearing a shirt," His hands feel so big on your waist. Big and calloused, split skin scarred over from fighting. "A bra?"

"A sports bra."

"Right."

He slides your hoodie up over your torso until it's bare and takes your sports bra along with it in one go. Your tits fall from them with a soft swish with how quick he does it, the light bounce making your skin grown hot. Togame hovers above you as he eyes them, palms just underneath but not touching.

"Stop looking so hard."

He brushes past that. "They're nice."

"Shut up," You say for the first time. Togame smiles slightly.

"Not a nice way to talk to someone who's helping you," He says sarcastically. You pout but refuse to apologize. He remains unbothered then goes back to being alarmingly serious. "Do you play with them?"

"H-huh? When I masturbate? Not really. I've never thought too."

"Why's that?"

You shrug. "The guys I dated used to touch them but it mostly felt weird, not good. Never thought of trying on my own."

He gives you a looking asking for permission. You nod. This really does not feel normal but the arousal clouding your brain is a lot louder than your sense of shame.

Togame's hands slide up your sides until he's cupping the roundness of your chest. His thumbs hover against hardened nipples, constrained in the touch. It's different than how other guys have done it for you. He's paying attention to that bit most, and he's going about it softly. Pushing the hardened bud with a light flick that sends a jolt of shock through your body.

He's quick to notice your reaction, green eyes flickering up before doing it again. You squirm, stretching your legs and shifting as another tick of arousal goes through your whole body. Your clit is starting to throb so much it hurts. If it were you, you would've started touching yourself a long while ago. As soon as you felt yourself get wet.

Togame is taking his time, though. And you're feeling it so much it's a little shameful for you. He does it again, touching your nipples - both side at the same time. Your body is pushing for more.

You've managed to keep the noise down but you're pushed over your usual limits. A moan spills from your lips as you push up into his touch. "That's good, huh? Just needed it a little softer and more focused."

You try not to be any more embarrassing. Wouldn't anyone feel weird over this?

He's the most important person in your entire life, and he's seeing you like this. Not judging you, just remaining even and consistent. Teasing you but not enough to make you upset. He's being so careful. Is this the kind of boyfriend he is? You think that must make him popular, so then... why does it never work out? He's never dated anyone longer than a year.

But he's being so sweet to you despite not dating. He's always kind but this is different. You can't imagine who would see this part of him and break up.

You try not to think about any of this but the only other thing you can focus on is him rubbing your nipples and how nice it feels. The moan of his name is pitchy, sounds foreign to your own ears with how high and broken it is.

"Kame-chan," Your voice is warbly when you ask. You just want to stop thinking. "Kiss?"

He pauses. You think he's going to deny you at first.

"Fuck. That ain't fair, you know?"

You don't know what he means, but he complies and kisses you open mouthed as he plays with your tits. Rubs and flicks them just the way you like. It feels so good. You've never felt anything like it before. Your tummy flutters, honeyed lust dripping down your inner thighs.

Your body moves on it's own, your hands carding through his hair as arousal starts to pool. Your panties feels soaked and sticky, through the fabric. You shift again trying to relieve the feeling, brain scrambled by Togame's touch.

You're so horny you can't make sense of anything. Your body is a relentless echo of your wants and needs - demanding attention. His attention, specifically. Need curls up in your chest.

Between kisses you confess this to Togame, who you trust now more than ever despite feeling so incredibly vulnerable. How could you not go with it when he's taking such good care of you?

"Wanna cum so bad," You mutter, sloppy between kisses. Togame takes in a deep breath as he pulls away.

"You think you're worked up enough for it?"

You see through him instantly even in your haze. "Don't be mean to me, you jerk."

"Caught me, huh? Okay, okay. How do you normally do this?"

"Do what?"

"Fuck yourself with something,."

The words send heat sparking against your spine. You tuck your face against his jacket where it's laying besides you and huff. It smells like him. "Ngh. Usually finger myself a little first."

"Got a good idea then." He hums. The sound of his voice, low and smooth, makes you feel comforted. "I'll lay next to you and help keep you distracted while you open yourself up, yeah? Nothing below the belt 'n all. And when you're already I'll put in for you and turn it on."

You sniff. "Okay."

He smiles at you, pulling his hands and body away from you before laying besides you instead. He lets you rest your head against his arm and shoulders - sneaking the rest of his arm around and underneath you, squeezing one of your tits. He presses your body into him and gropes around the bed for the box with your toy, grabbing it from inside before shoving it away.

Up close, you can feel his muscles even better than you could. You wonder how someone so relaxed could be this built but try not to let it burden your brain. He smells so nice. Did he always? You feel too horny to remember, but you like it.

You can feel him glancing down at you, amused.

"Comfy?" Togame's voice vibrates through your whole body.

"Uh-huh."

"If you turn your head towards me I can kiss you and touch you. Keep your mind occupied a bit."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"It does right? Go ahead and start."

You think you should tell him not to watch. Keeps his eyes for himself. But the focus of his gaze makes you burn so much hotter you don't bother. He's already seen so much, anyway.

You shimmy out of your sweat pants until they're down at your ankles revealing your panties. Baby blue printed boyshorts, fabric soaked until they look a nearly new navy shade. You feel his laughter less than you hear it, turning your head to glare at him. He smiles a little at you.

"Those are cute too," Togame comments. You can hear his voice so clearly like this you think you'll collapse if you pay too much attention to it. "Too bad you made 'em all messy."

You swallow a sound, too horny to protest. He stops you before you can take your panties off.

"Didn't you say you normally touch over the fabric when you're sensitive? Do that."

"But—"

"Just trust me," He promises. He kisses your hair. Your heart thuds when he does it. It's an innocent gesture. "It'll make it more satisfying, okay?"

Your shaky as you spread yourself a little wider and slip your hand down between your legs. All the desire you're holding starts to unwind as your middle finger slides over the soaked seam of your cotton panties. They're cuter than normal, printed with florals and lace trimmed. Absolutely drenched in your arousal. You rub a small circle into your clit and your whole body breaks out into shivers, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

You could cum like this. Just from this. But you want something more, something better so you force yourself to go slow.

"It's messy," Togame hums, nonchalant. "You get easier than I thought you would. Are you going slow so you don't cum right away?"

"Don't point it out, aah,"

"You should cum if you want too," Togame suggests.

"No," You whine. "Wanna cum with the toy."

"Wanna cum with a cock inside you, ya mean? A silicone one but still. Not enough to just touch yourself, you need something more, is that it?"

He says the words so casually, so lightly. Almost friedly despite how filthy they are. There's no malice in them.

Spoken like high praise or affection. The kind you'd show a kitten,.

"Kame—"

"Didn't know your had such a need pussy. No wonder it's hard to cum all by yourself, huh?"

"Stop being mean," You gasp. "I'll cum,"

He laughs at that. It's genuine and bright.

"Too much for ya, huh? S'okay. Take these off now. Finger yourself. Make sure you get all that mess you made so we can use on your toy. It'll hurt if it's dry going in."

You feel blindsided by just how much Togame is talking. He's been so quiet, so brief and unreadable. He feels like his usual self too much, to your complete detriment. His voice is teasing, yet warm and sweet. He smells good and he's pressing you all against his chest. Your fingers tremble as you slide your panties down to your ankles same as before. You end up shimmying the rest of your clothes off.

You're so aroused it's easy to get the first finger in. Your hole twitches, the entrance pleasurable as slowly ease your middle finger down to knuckle. You til your head towards Togame as you get adjusted to the intrusion easily from how wet you are, pouting your lips. He gives into the kiss right away, warm tongue and soft lips familiar to you now. You ease yourself into the pace of his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as you slowly open yourself on second finger.

"I want it so bad," You mumble. He laughs against your mouth.

"I can tell. Can barely string a sentence together. You want to cum huh?"

"Uh-huh."

"What a naughty pussy. You're trembling from just fingering yourself. Won't you cum right away if I put in you at once? I'll have to go slowly," Togame explains. He speaks the filth so naturally. "Take my time so you're stretched nicely and not scared anymore. I'll turn the vibrator on after it's already inside so you can't run away from it. You can cum to your hearts content, then."

"I'm still scared," You admit. You're just so horny you're unsure of what else to do. He leans down to kiss you again, nose brushing against yours intimately.

"Don't be scared. Just focus on stretching so you're not so tight. I'll praise you if you take it in easily."

Your voice gives once you manage to get a third in. Togame doesn't stop kissing you, barely giving you enough air to breathe. He plays with your chest with his free hand, and holds the toy with the other.

A string of spit connects you. Your thighs are aching, body burning hot as you look at him directly.

"Wanna cum," You slur your words, speaking in short sentences. Togame grins a little.

"Take your fingers out and show them to me."

Your stomach flips but you comply with the request. Your face burns from how soaked they are.

"Good. Rub them on the toy now. Get it as sticky as you can."

Your heart is pounding is loud in your ears as you clumsily coat your new toy with your own mess. You watch it gain a fresh shine, baby blue turning reflective as you push it against and between your fingers until all of it's coated as best you can.

"That's it, good. Spread your legs now. Gonna put it in. Want me to kiss you?"

You nod sheepishly and close your eyes. Togame laughs warmly before kissing you again.

Your whole body throbs in anticipation for it. A muscular forearm and hand slip between your legs as you spread yourself open, your feet flat on the bed for easier access. Togame forces his tongue into your open mouth, kissing you wet and hard as he tweaks your nipples. You feel pleasantly suffocated from the pressure before gasping into his mouth.

The swollen silicone head of your toy stretches your pussy more than you thought it would. You've never had a toy with angles so the sensations are all new. You can feel it so well inside of you, you can barely keep your composure long enough to stop moaning as just the tip slides in. Togame swallows each noise from your mouth. His kisses feel almost ferocious now when they were so composed before, free hand cupping your jaw from one side.

He fucks it in slowly, rocking the toy by its handle slowly until you get used to it - giving you moments between to adjust. You can feel it bottom out inside of you, the head pressing so precise on your swollen gspot you could cum from bucking your hips. Your sensitivity is over the top. Every touch and and tease and bump makes your cunt clench and throb.

The blunt end of the rubber attachment presses against your needy little clit. Togame moves the toy a little, fucking you with it slightly again. Barely. It still nearly makes you cum.

You feel like he's edging you. Anymore than this, you think you'll go crazy.

"Kame-chan." Your voice is beyond wrecked, throat as one of your hands reaches to cling desperately to his short sleeves. You fist it, teary. "Jo, turn it on please. Make me cum. Wanna cum so bad, 'm so close, please, please. C'mon."

"Turning it on, baby. Easy."

The word baby makes your body melt.

A slight click sounds as Togame turns on the vibrator.

Your whole body lurches at the sudden change. Togame pins you with his own, keeps his hands steady and the toy inside of you without skipping a beat. The soft whirr of the first setting completely unravels you. It feels like every nerve in your body is being pulled apart, electricity through a frayed copper wire. The muscles in your body aching with anticipation after so many dissatisfying orgasms clench tight as your body prepares itself for something so vast your mind can't process it at all. Your hands fist at your sides, clutching the sheets as you get close to cumming.

You're thrashing from the sensation. It's so much, too much - you've never felt anything like it before. You feel full and euphoric and your head is spinning. It feels so good it terrifies you, makes you clench up hard in how unbearably unrelenting it is. There's no pace, no where to escape from. The vibrations are strong but not overwhelming to the point you can't feel them.

You're so senstive all over your body and it's touching you in two places.

Your spine starts to curl into an arch, hips stuttering and twisting as you feel it rushing over your consciousness. Fuck, you've wanted this for so long. It's exactly the high you've been chasing after on your own for so many months it's making your brain feel like like mush. Animal instinct forces your hips up, bucking against Togame's hand where he holds the toy. You're fucking yourself on it. You can hear him laugh as he moves to meet you ruts.

You feel like you're losing your fucking mind.

"G-gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't, I can't, I can't. Feels so good, Ican't."

He leans in and gets close to your ear, tongue caressing the lobe before biting it soft.

"Yes you can. You want it so bad don't you? Wanna cum all over this cock so bad you've been aching for it. I know you want it, I can see it. Look how much your moving your hips." His voice is shaking, hands flicking your nipples messy and harsh as he speaks. "Look what a mess you're making. You're leaking everywhere. You want it badly right? Don't think about it and cum. Cum as much as you want. Cum for me,"

The last words are the ones to snap the thread inside of you.

Your brain bluescreens as your body seizes before finally, finally giving you the orgasm you've been chasing. You smash your lips against Togame's as your spine arches off the bed, thrashing in place. Something in you undoes - and you feel a wet rush spray from between your legs at the same time your orgasm hits. Your mind feels completely and utterly blanked. Your body is in total rapture, uncontrollable pleasure fucking your brain until you're stupid and slack jawed. It feels so good, so so good. You didn't know anything could ever feel that good in your life. It's scary.

You feel like you could get addicted. Your high rides out for much longer than ever before. In between sloppy kisses, you say the same words over and over and over. Togame grips you close to him as you do.

"Jo," You mutter. "Thank you, thank you, thank you—feels so fffucking good, fuck. I can't, I can't. Off, off. 's too much, I'll pee."

Instead of turning it off, he turns the vibration up by one. Your eyes fly open as you gasp, words rushed. Panicked.

"I can't," You swear, looking at him for mercy. His face is flushed. "I can't, Jo-chan, I'll cum again, I'll—"

"Cum." He says, demands - voice rougher than you've heard it all night. "I know you can. Cum,"

On demand practically, your legs seize up and you cum again a second time in near succession. You feel so fucking incredible you think you're going to die.

"Fuck!"

You squirt again, body nearly giving out as more short spurts soak your sheets and mattress. Your pussy is pulsing in the after math, trembling and clenching so violently. You whine loudly as Togame stops the vibration and pulls the toy out, shivering as it catches on your tight hole before coming out of it with a soft pop.

Your legs are twitching.

Even though Togame has no more reason to kiss you he does. And even though you're well past the point of needing to kiss him back, you do more affectionately than any time prior.

"You made me feel so good it's freaking me out." You admit, shaking uncontrollably.

Togame pauses before breaking out into genuine laughter. He kisses your head, arm wrapping around your shoulders until you're hugged against him.

"You were so sexy like that."

You blink at him, face flushed.

"Sexy?"

"I was really hard seeing you cum," He says, casually looking down. "I didn't know you could be cute and ask for kisses. You're usually more—"

You put a hand over his mouth.

"Whatever you're gonna say shut up,"

He just smiles, cheek against your hair. "I'm glad you got to feel good."

"What about you?" You mumble, feeling your heart pick up just asking. "Are you still hard? I feel like I should pay you back somehow,"

He looks at you seriously. "Do you know what you're implying?"

You fold a little but nod anyway. "Yeah."

"Do you really? The monk thing is a joke, you know. If you offer something like that, I won't be able to stop."

"It's fine," You say confidently before adding, much quieter. "I r-really want to do... it with you."

Togame pauses before kissing you deeply. Your whole body feels molded to him now.

"Damn it." He looks down at you, black hair sticking to his skin. You wanna feel his undercut with your hands in his hair. "You know this ain't normal between friends, right?"

"Uhm, yeah? I figured."

"Don't go around getting help from anyone."

You shake your head. "It's only 'cause it's you."

He scrubs a hand over his face and laughs. "You don't need to stir me up anymore. I'm already hard enough. Can't keep my composure at all."

You tilt your head in confusion. Togame just sighs.

"Don't worry about it." He says, shaking his head. "How soon can I get my thanks?"

Your eyes widen as you clench again. "Uhm. Now, if you want it."

He grins a little lazy, eyes swimming with adoration.

"I do," He hums, laying back as you get up from where you've been laying. "Come over here and let me touch you properly then."

"Is that what you really want?"

You climb ontop of him, bare naked almost as your hoodie falls back down over your torse. Togame slides the fabric up and gives you a meaningful look.

"More than anything,"

#togame jo x reader #togame x reader #togame smut #windbreaker x reader #writing tag #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker smut

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cafterdark · 10 months ago

Text

Posted 16:35, 12/5 to r/puppyplay

How do I get used to nerve integrating tail

So my gf a few weeks ago admitted she was into puppy play. Now I'm a pretty vanilla guy so I was a bit wary, but open to try it. We've gotten a collar and leash that I wear when we play, but I just got my Christmas bonus, so we splurged on a nerve integrating tail. It feels pretty weird to have it on, but my gf is ecstatic. It certainly has brightened up our bedroom life lately. I'm still not entirely into puppy play, especially when she calls me a "good boy" but I do admit it's quite fun. My only question is how do I get used to it.

Posted 22:51, 12/17 to r/puppyplay

Is it dangerous to wear NIT for more than two weeks?

Hello again,

Thanks for all the advice y'all gave me in the last post, I'm really used to the tail now. I love the wave it wags when I'm excited and so does my gf. It has come to the point I feel like I'm missing something when I take it off. I know the general advice is not to keep it on for more than two weeks but I kind of want to keep it on. I work from home so none of my coworkers know I'm wearing it. And when I do need to go out, it's really easy to hide it under some clothes. So is there any risk to having it on for more than two weeks?

Posted 08:11, 1/7 to r/puppyplay

Skin grown over NIT port

So I just woke up and looked at my NIT and saw that skin has grown over the port. Whenever I try to take the tail off it hurts like hell. What can I do?

Posted 09:12, 1/7 to r/medicaladvice

Any way to remove an overgrown nerve integrated prosthetic?

I wore a NIP longer than the recommended time and skin has grown over it, is there any way to take it off?

Posted 18:15 1/7 to r/puppyplay

Gf is okay with permanent NIT

It's been an eventful morning for me and my gf. I told her the news that I'm stuck with a NIT from now on. I expected my gf to leave me, but she's been nothing but supportive. I'm usually not one for being the little spoon, but she cradled me and comforted me. I love her so much. Thank y'all for your kind words and support. I know it's fairly common for people to have eccentric prosthetics nowadays, but as much as I love this tail, it's going to take a while to get used to it. I'll keep y'all updated.

Posted 13:43, 2/9 to r/puppyplay

Side effects of permanent NIT?

Hey again,

So I've gotten used to the NIT being permanent, but I've been having some things happen to me that I'm wondering if they're caused by it.

To start, when I was done with a workout, my gf noticed I was panting with my tongue out. I hadn't even realized I was doing that.

Another one is that my body and facial hair have stopped growing. Not that I miss them, but it's kind of weird. Weirder still, my hair has been growing rapidly. I was starting to bald before, but now it's down to my shoulders. It's gotten so long and full that my coworkers joked that it looked more like a woman's hair.

Are these side effects of the tail or am I just losing my mind?

Posted 12:21, 3/15 to r/puppyplay

More side effects of tail?

So I know y'all said that permanent tails don't have any mental or physical side effects, but I'm not so sure.

I'm not sure when it started, but I'm starting to make more dog like noises. When I'm excited I bark up a storm, whimper when sad, growl when angry. I'm not doing any of those on purpose, it's like the rise from my throat. When I see a squirrel, I feel the urge to chase after it now. My gf has joked that she needs to collar and leash me when we go out, but I'm a bit nervous.

Speaking of my gf, I used to tower over her. Yet today, she was my height, maybe even a bit taller.

Other strange things, my nipples is a bit swollen and puffy. It really hurts to touch them.

What's happening to me?

Posted 10:23, 3/30 to r/puppyplay

Tits?

So I've been in denial for a while, but my tail is making me grow tits. I realized this when I was putting on a tight shirt and my boobs were really clearly visible. My gf nearly died when she saw them. After a bit of laughing/leering, she measured and found they're A cups. She gave me one of her bras to wear, which feels a bit itchy.

Posted 17:12, 3/31 to r/puppyplay

My tail is feminizing me

Hello again,

After looking at old photos of myself compared to me now. I'm certain my tail is feminizing me. I'm shorter than my gf, my skin is soft, I basically have no body hair, my hair is super long, I have tits, and um, my equipment is tiny now. I look better at least, but idk what to do.

Posted 15:35, 4/10 to r/asktransgender

Why does my GF calling me a "good girl" make me so excited.

So I'm a cis? guy. Due to a faulty prosthetic I'm wearing, it has slowly been feminizing me. Now, I'm having some mixed feelings about it and my gf asked if I liked being a guy. I really hadn't cared about my gender before so I said yeah. She then asked me how I felt about the phrase "good boy." When I told her it made me feel weird and awkward, she called me a good girl. I suddenly got so happy and my prosthetic went wild. My inside felt so warm and complete that I couldn't even try to hide how happy I was. What does this mean? Am I trans?

Posted 11:13, 4/19 to r/asktransgender

New Name!

After a week of introspection with my gf, I've realized I'm a trans woman. And to thank her for all the help she's done making me realize that, I let her pick my name.

So hi, I'm Bella

Posted 22:12, 4/21 to r/puppyplay

Gf acting weird

So me and my gf do a lot of puppy play and usually it stays in the bedroom. But lately it's been weird.

To start, she insists on cooking for me. It's such good food, but what's weird is that whenever I eat it, she clicks something. Weirder still, its the same click that I hear whenever I cum.

Also, she's gotten a lot more dominant lately. She's constantly telling me how cute and hot I am. How much she just wants to mark me up. She insists I wear my collar 24/7 so "Everyone knows who owns me." She even asks me to call her owner sometimes.

I get so flustered and my tail goes wild any time she acts like this but it's still weird. She never used to be this direct and dominant. I'm not against it but it's kind of weird.

Posted 16:37, 4/30 to r/asktransgender

Why do clothes feel weird?

So me and my gf have been clothes shopping for a new wardrobe lately and we've run into a brick wall. Every bit of clothes I've worn lately has felt tight and itchy. Even my old boy clothes.

Why is this?

Posted 18:15, 5/7 to r/puppyplay

Why can't I disobey my owner?

Um, so my owner has made some really big changes to my life lately. She's told me I'm not allowed to wear clothes anymore, sleep on the bed, eat on the table. She's gotten me a dog bed to sleep on and some labeled dog bowls for me to eat out of. I have to wear my collar 24/7 and whenever we go out I need to be leashed. I can't even walk on two legs anymore.

Yet I don't want to disobey her. It's not like she's abusive or anything, the opposite really. But my brain can't even think of not listening to her. Especially when I hear a click and every bit of my brain is filled with devotion to her.

What am I doing wrong, why can't I disobey her?

Posted 11:17, 6/5 to r/puppyplay

Y'all were right

Y'all were right. It's so much better being a good puppy for my owner. I don't have to worry about anything. She's so kind and sweet and wonderful and caring and ugh my tail is wagging so fast just talking about her. I'm so glad I've accepted my place. Thank you all so much for helping me realize this.

Posted 14:25, 12/5 to r/puppyplay

Gifts for a really good Puppygirl?

Hello

I'm the owner of a wonderful little puppygirl. She's had a big year of changes and I want to get her something wonderful to cap it off. Any suggestions?

#t4t lesbian #t4t ns/fw #queer nsft #t4t nsft #lesbian nsft #lesbian ns/fw #mtf ns/fw #wlw nsft #lesbian #bottomposting #puppyposting #puppy sub #bd/sm puppy #dumb puppy #transformation #hornyposting #high effort hornypost #hrt that turns you into a puppygirl #smut

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reidology13 · 17 days ago

Text

we could make it better (breaking every habit)

Spencer Reid x fem ex-famous!reader

Summary: After Spencer overcomes his addiction, he seeks out the company and forgiveness of an old flame. cw: talk of addiction, a little sad? mostly fluffy though a/n: technically a part 2 of my fic based off making the bed by olivia rodrigo, but it can definitely be read as a oneshot. maybe they are a bit unhealthy, but they're cute and that's all that matters. also this was so incredibly delayed cause my phone drowned so I'm posting this from my dad's computer

Part 1

They say time heals all wounds, and standing at the door of his past mistake, Spencer hoped it had healed hers the way it had his. It had taken him too long to find her, for his pride to break down enough to ask Garcia to search for her. A few years ago it would have been all too easy, a few years ago she was on the cover of every magazine. Now she was the public's favourite conspiracy theory, the biggest where did she go? post made on some website full of self important nobodies.

Where did she go? A small house in a small town, a few hours from D.C, just close enough that Spencer had gotten in his car without a second thought the moment he had her address. Maybe it was a slight invasion of privacy, but Spencer had seen much more of her than the house she lived in.

As he lifted his fist to knock, doubt crept in for the first time since the beginning of his endeavour. Was he right to apologise, to show up at the doorstep of the person he hurt worse than anyone else in his life, and say sorry? Sorry. ‘Sorry’ was a puny word that could never hope to mean anything compared to what he had done, how he had used her. But it would have to do, because he had not come all that way to turn back at the flashing neon sign that said ‘CLOSURE’.

Knock, knock, knock. Was three knocks not enough? Knock. God four was too many and the last one had been so separate from the others it was clearly an afterthought that she would think was weird before she even knew it was him on the other side of-

“Spencer?” The door opened, just enough for her face to be visible through the small opening. She was so much more beautiful than he remembered, although he really didn’t remember much from back then.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was one way to get to the point. He smacked himself internally, scolding himself for being so stupid and inconsiderate, not even saying hello or asking her how she was doing.

“Do you wanna come in? You look like you need to sit down.” She pulled the door open, stepping back to let him in, and Spencer froze. She was allowing him into her home, her space, he who had squeezed her dry, used her up and tossed her aside when he didn’t need her anymore.

Unsure what else to do, Spencer found himself sitting on her couch, the awkward tension between them palpable as he sat silently in regret of every decision he had made in the last week.

“So,” She prompted, gesturing vaguely in his direction, “How are you?”

“Good, yeah, better. You?” He looked around the room, trying to find something that would tell him anything about her life, about her. She was a stranger, really, a stranger that used to be someone he knew. He wanted to know who she was then, on that day, in her house sitting across from him.

“I’m good too. You look better.” He knew what she meant – he didn’t look high out of his mind. The far wall of the room was covered in framed pictures of her and what he assumed were her family and friends. Some were from her childhood, some were taken in front of the very house he was sitting in.

What surprised Spencer were the photos, though few and far between, where he made an appearance. The Fourth of July party, a bright, sunny photo full of smiling faces. The poor quality of the picture did nothing to disguise the bags under his eyes, nor the dead look in hers. Her birthday, a photo of her blowing out the candles on her cake, blurred from his shaky grip on the camera.

“I don’t remember that one.” He pointed to a picture of the two of them, a dark photo that he nearly hadn’t recognised as himself. The ability to not remember had been his favourite thing back then, now the haze left him with a pit in his stomach.

“Makes sense, you were… you were bad. It was taken right near the end.”

“I am sorry, really.” Neither of them spoke after that, the silence a warm blanket rather than a thick smog. The apology wrapped around them in a warm embrace, they did not choke on it.

She moved first, after what felt like the most peaceful eternity, slipping her hand around his, holding it in the space between them. He looked down at their joined hands, his gaze slowly drifting up until it landed on the soft smile spread across her face.

“I missed you.” She squeezed his hand gently, although it felt like she squeezed his heart instead, “I missed you from the moment I met you. It’s nice to get you back.”

“I missed you too.” He didn’t know how to explain the way it had taken him a month to get sober enough that reality hit and he realised what he’d lost. At least, he didn’t know how to explain it without having to actually say something about his addiction. He’d always been good at avoiding the topic, skirting around it with suggestions and subtle confirmations. The word ‘addiction’ made him feel weak, like he’d been defeated. He’d talked about his problem once, in a room full of people who had been through the same thing, and even then he hadn’t been able to say it.

“You’re so strong, Spencer. You’ve come so far.” It was like she could read his mind, see every fear that haunted him and soothe it accordingly.

“So are you, I mean, you got out of everything.” His eyes dropped to his lap in shame of everything that he hadn’t noticed, all of the obvious signs of just how not okay she had been. All that she must have been going through, that he had been too far from reality to know existed, even when it was staring him in the face.

“You say that like you didn’t.” It was a simple sentiment, but maybe that was what hit him like a freight train. It wasn’t some mantra he’d heard hundreds of times, or a complicated conversation with his friends where they tried to talk to him without saying anything that actually mattered.

He got out of it.

“You’re perfect, you know that right?” The way he looked at her in that moment could only be described as reverential, she was the brightest star in a sky that he had never truly seen before.

“No I’m not.” The way she said it like a definite fact made Spencer’s heart start to crack, “Do you know why I have those pictures up?”

Spencer shook his head, “Tell me,” he said the words under his breath, as if they were surrounded by people in the empty room, “I’m not going to find you any less perfect.”

“Hope. I could never get the thought out of my head that you would come back.” She shook her head, gaze locked on the ground like she couldn’t bear to look at him as she spoke. “It was stupid, and then you actually did, and that’s stupid all over again.”

“You’re even more perfect than I thought.” Spencer laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, happy and sad and something he couldn’t put a name to. She was still holding his hand, he realised, and he used that information to interlace their fingers, placing their joined hands in his spare palm.

“I’m stupid and lucky, that’s what I am.” She snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“No, not stupid.” Spencer drew circles with his thumb on her palm as he spoke, “Lucky, maybe.”

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, us, you know that.”

“Eventually, yes. Not right now.”

“Not right now.” She confirmed, nodding slowly. They were both there, and that would have to be enough, at least for the moment.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds hurt/comfort #Spotify

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spdrwdw · 1 year ago

Text

Art by marmar0u on instagram

Pairing: GhostFace!Miguel x f!reader

warnings: 18+, Smut, Roleplay, oral (m/f receiving) , unprotected intercourse, hair-pulling, choking, no use of y/n, slight hair pulling

Summary: It's Halloween and you in for a trick and treat of your life.

A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested GhostFace! Miguel! Sorry if this on kinda sucks. I'm not good with writing scary, suspenseful stuff lol. I did use some of the dialogue from the first movie and tweaked it a bit. If you want to be tagged in my future fics, just let me know! Or, you can also turn on notifications for my page and get notified whenever I post. I hope everyone enjoys and have a safe and fun Halloween!

Word Count: 2.8k ( I promise I'll make my fics longer one day)

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

It was Halloween night, and you were home alone. The tv was on, playing some random scary movie. You had music also playing in the background.

Trick-or-treaters would be constantly ringing the doorbell. At first, you thought about simply leaving the bowl of candy by the doorstep, but you loved seeing all the costumes the kids and teenagers were wearing.

You were wearing a costume, yourself. A simple angel. Nothing too flashy since you were simply handing out candy. Just a halo and wings in a white t-shirt and white shorts. You wore your more “suggestive” costume at last weekend’s Halloween party a friend threw.

While making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some popcorn, you heard your cell phone ring. It was a number you’ve never seen before, but it had your area code, so you decided to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello?” A voice on the other end responded.

“Yes?” You replied back.

“Who is this?”

“Who are you trying to reach?” You asked, slightly confused.

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” Honestly. Dude dialed the number, right?

“I don’t know.” Ugh.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number. It happens. Take it easy,” and with that, you ended the call and began to head back to the microwave to check on the popcorn before your phone rang again.

Reaching back over for it, you checked the caller ID. It was the same number. Should you pick it up? At first, you thought about letting it ring but, eh, whatever. You answered it.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number,” the same guy on the other end responded.

“So why did you dial it again?” You asked.

“To apologize,” he replied.

“Well, you’re forgiven. Bye, now.”

“Wait! wait. Don’t hang up. I want to talk to you for a sec.”

“Why?” Okay, this was getting a little weird. You really should just hang up.

“Just want to know a little more about you. How about telling me your name?” He asked. “I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Well, do you have a boyfriend?” He changed the subject.

“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?”

“Maybe? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” as if you were going to give this guy a truthful response. Plus, you did have a boyfriend, so you wouldn’t have accepted either way.

“You never told me your name.” There he goes again, asking for your name.

You were now walking around your house, organizing some things as you entertained this weirdo.

“Why do you want to know my name?” No really. Why?

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”

What?

You suddenly stopped, feeling your heart drop.

“What did you say?” Your voice now grew quiet.

“I want to know who I’m talking to.”

“That’s not what you said,” you pointed out as you began making your way around the house, turning more lights on, as well as the lights from your back porch. You really should hang up and call the police if this guy was stalking you from somewhere.

“Then what did you think I said?” He asked. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“What do you want?” You knew if you hung up now, he would just call back. So, you made another round around the house to make sure everything was closed and locked.

“I just want to know your name.”

“You don’t need to know my name. Now what do you want from me?” You questioned.

“I just wanted to talk. Maybe go out together on a date.”

Now you were peaking through the curtains, making sure no one was actually outside. Which was futile since there were still a lot of people out trick-or-treating. Maybe he was just messing around. But, you wanted to be sure.

“Can you see me?” He suddenly asked.

How did he know you were looking for him? “Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police.” Your voice was now shaky, as well as your body.

“They’d never make it in time. It’s Halloween. Probably think you’re prank calling them or something.”

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice cracking and tears welling over your eyes.

The line was quiet for a second, then you heard him chuckle.

“To see what your insides feel like.”

The line disconnected, and there was a sudden flicker of the lights. He was here. He had to be.

You were checking every single closet and door, your heart beating fast, panicking. Where was he? He had to be somewhere in your house.

Your cell phone rang again. You didn’t bother to check the number. You knew it was him.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice shaking as you struggled to hold the phone in your hand.

No response.

“This isn’t funny! I’m going to call the police!” You threatened as you pressed your back against the wall, trying to keep your eyes everywhere.

You heard the man chuckling again at the other end, causing goosebumps to raise the thin hairs on your arms.

“Aww! Don’t be like that, baby. I’m just having some fun.” You could practically hear him smirking.

“Well, I’m not!” You spat before the lights began to flicker again.

“Stop it!”

“Alright, alright. You’re being such a party-pooper. Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll stop messing with you, if you let me fuck you.”

“Excuse me?!” You gasped, eyes widened.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll even keep my mask on,” he cooed.

“No way!”

“Why not? It’s Halloween. I’m a trick-or-treater. I already did my tricks, now I’m ready for my treat.”

“I-I have a boyfriend!” You then blurted out.

“You just told me you didn’t.”

“I know that.”

“So that ‘no’’ was a yes? I don’t like that you lied to me like that. Hmm..well, he doesn’t have to know, baby. It’ll be our little secret.”

“No,” you replied.

“Alright. Fine. We can do this the hard way,” he responded just before the lights went completely dark. The line cut off on the other end, and you were left with silence.

You covered your mouth and tried to calm down. You had to find something to defend yourself with. Maybe a baseball bat or something. Or you could go back to the kitchen and grab a pan or knife.

Without removing yourself from the wall, you began to make your way to the kitchen.

In the dark, you quickly made your way to the drawers and found a knife before proceeding to turn on the flashlight on your phone just as you heard something coming from upstairs.

“Shit shit shit!” You breathed, gripping onto the knife with one hand and your phone with the other before you slowly began to make your way up the stairs , looking all around you.

You jumped when you heard a door slam behind you, and you slowly turned around to see a dark figure at the end of the hall.

“Who are you?!” You called out, taking a couple steps back, still gripping the knife tightly. Your legs began to tremble a bit.

The figure then turned around. A white ghost-like mask covered their face. You could hear a low chuckle coming from them as they began to take a step closer, holding their own, bloody knife in his hand.

“Get away from me! I’m serious!” You threatened, but he continued to make his way closer to you, so, you dashed into your bedroom, not noticing something on the floor that caused you to trip and fall onto your bed, the knife slipped out of your hand, along with your phone, both landing on the floor with a thump.

Once you managed to push your body up, you glanced over your shoulder and saw the figure standing right behind you, causing you to scream. You tried to scramble back, but he grabbed one of your legs, lifting the knife towards you to strike.

You quickly reached for a pillow and started hitting him with it. It worked for a second, and he stumbled back. But, it gave you enough time to get out of bed.

However, your efforts were not sufficient,and he grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed with a thump before he crawled over you, pinning your hands behind your head and straddling your waist.

A low chuckle could be heard coming from him before he leaned over and whispered against your ear, “You’re so cute when you’re scared.”

Your heart pounded against your chest, struggling to break free as tears pricked over your eyes.

“Please, let me go..” you whimpered.

“Not until I get my treat, sweetheart,” he reminded her as he sat up and began to pull down his pants underneath the black cloak.

“Aye, mierda, this thing..”he huffed under his breath as he hiked the cloak up above his waist.

Wait a second. That voice..it sounded familiar. Too familiar. And there was only one person you knew who would curse like that.

“M-Miguel?”

“Yeah?” He paused, looking down at you through his mask, his persona now forgotten.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! It was you doing this the whole time?!” You shrieked as you started smacking him, hitting him with all your might.

“You asshole!”

Miguel simply laughed as he grabbed hold of your hands.

“Come on, nena! I was just messing with you!” He continued to laugh. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. It was adorable.”

“G-get off of me!” You were pissed at the stunt your boyfriend pulled.

“But I want my treat,” you just knew that he was pouting under his mask.

“I’m not giving you anything you big jerk! Now get off and turn my lights back on!” You demanded, shoving him off of you.

“Fine,” he muttered before fixing himself and got off the bed and headed out of your room.

You laid in your bed for a moment, trying to relax. You never thought Miguel would do such a thing. He really had you scared shitless.

Shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, you got up from bed, grabbing the knife you dropped on the floor and began to make your way downstairs just as the lights came back on.

Miguel was already in the kitchen, mask removed and munching on the popcorn you had made.

You placed the knife back where it belonged before turning to face Miguel, crossing your arms over your chest.

Miguel looked over at you after popping some more popcorn into his mouth, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Heeey..” he reached over to you, pulling you over by the arm. “Don’t be mad. Please. Forgive me?”

He gave you big puppy dog eyes. And for someone as big as him, it was actually adorable. But you were still mad at him. He actually had you fearing for your life.

“No,” you respond curtly, glaring up at him. Why did he think you would just forgive him so easily?

“How did you even get in here?” You asked as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“You showed me where you keep your spare key, remember?”

“Oh, yeah..”

“Soo..”he smirked then. “Can I get my treat now?”

“You’re insufferable. Fine! Fine,” you finally agreed with a nod. “But, I swear if you do something like that again, I’m breaking up with you."

Miguel gave you a toothy grin before pulling his mask back down before pulling out his knife from under his cloak. With closer inspection, you realize it was just a fake prop knife with red paint over it.

“Wait, how did you change your voice?” You suddenly asked.

Miguel pulled out a little box-like device and held it to his face before speaking to it, his voice sounding completely different.

“Oh.”

“Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?” Miguel stated before he started chasing you around the kitchen, with you now playing along.

After you had given the last of the candy out to trick-or-treaters and finished up the popcorn, you and Miguel were upstairs in your room, with you on your knees, sucking him off.

He was still clad in his costume, having his cloak bunched up around his waist.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it. Just like that,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you bobbed your head and pumped him in your hand. You couldn’t help but to slip your hand into your panties and finger yourself, letting out moans around his cock.

He began to thrust into your mouth, holding your head still with his hand. You continued to finger yourself.

“Such a naughty little angel you are, nena. Taking my cock in so well,” he praised before letting out another groan, feeling himself close to his orgasm. However, he pulled himself out of your mouth, stunting his release. He wanted to be inside you for that. He pulled up on onto your feet before he knelt down before you, removing his mask before shooting you a playful wink and removed your white shorts and panties before half of his face disappeared between your legs.

You let out a moan when you felt it. His tongue, running along your folds, picking up your wetness with greed. He lifted you up by the thighs, placing a hand on your back before lifting you up on the floor and blindly made his way to the closet wall, pinning you there.

“Oh, Miguel!” You whined, tilting your head back against the wall, squeezing his head between your thighs as he slurped and nipped at your aching pussy.

Muffled moans could be heard coming from his mouth, sending vibrations through your body. You started bucking your hips against her mouth, needing more of his tongue.

You let out another whine, needing more. You needed more of him. You needed him inside you.

“Migueeeel!” You pouted as you continued to grind your hips against him. All he needed was his mouth to send you over the edge, and he knew how to use it well. He had you seeing stars and reaching for the moon with how his tongue danced along your bundle of nerves and slipped into your soaking pussy.

However, he pulled away before you were able to reach your peak.

“No!” You cried out, causing him to chuckle. He gently removed you from his shoulders and carried you to your bed, dropping you.

“Don’t fret, nena. We got all night. It’s still Halloween. And I am going to enjoy my treat for as long as I can. I did tell you and wanted to feel your insides, after all,” he said as he slipped his mask back down and took off everything else, leaving himself naked.

He proceeded to remove most of your clothes, leaving just your halo and wings on before flipping you over so you were on your stomach.

“On your hands and knees, angelita,” he ordered, giving you ass a playful smack, causing you to let out a yelp. You did as he said and positioned yourself before him, ass in the air and face down onto the mattress.

You could hear him stroking himself in his hand, and the sound made your mouth water.

“I know you want me in that tight little pussy, nena. Don’t worry, I got you,” Miguel smirked before plunging himself into your warm, wet cunt, causing you to arch your back and cry out his name.

Miguel didn’t wait to set at a brutal pace, pivoting himself against you, balls slapping against your clit. You let out a lewd moan, your eyes rolling back just as Miguel grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned over, his phone in hand. He took a quick photo of the two of you.

“You better not show that to anyone,” you whimpered.

“Of course not. This is all for me. No one gets to see you like this, angelita,” Miguel cooed, and you felt him resting his masked face against your hair, as if trying to give you a kiss.

“Now, you gonna cum for me?”

You could feel him hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, and you cried out a ‘yes’ in response, nodding your head.

“Yes! Yes yes! I will! Please..just like that!”

“That’s my girl,” he praised, giving your ass a hard smack that had you cumming instantly.

You gripped onto the bed sheets as Miguel continued to thrust into you past your orgasm. He loved filling you up and mixing your juices with his. And that’s just what he did. A couple more thrusts and he came inside you.

“Oh, fuck..that felt good,” Miguel sighed as he slowly pulled out of you, marveling at how your cunt dripped with his seed.

Taking off his mask completely, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you passionately.

“I’m still mad at you,” you reminded him, poking him hard on the chest.

He simply laughed and pecked your lips a couple of times. “Sorry, nena. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he cooed, nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Happy Halloween.”

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

@xaaaaaaax, @randomwriteralan, @migueloharastruelove, @camzzn

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #spiderman 2099

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woahjo · 9 months ago

Text

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else.

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost.

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment.

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire.

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear.

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters.

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell.

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse.

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent.

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight.

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula."

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these.

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity.

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent.

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands.

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed."

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs.

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him.

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you.

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?"

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit."

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane.

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid."

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess."

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now.

"Got a name?" he asks.

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?”

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling.

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?"

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat.

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am."

He nods his understanding.

"Come with me."

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both.

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed."

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost.

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?"

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising.

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to."

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?"

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase.

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it.

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step.

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees.

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you.

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation?

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!"

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room.

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him.

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned."

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost.

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while."

"Well, I'm back," he says.

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word.

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?"

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check."

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.”

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?"

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?"

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone."

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell?

"Sounds like a good deal," you say.

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock.

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki.

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..."

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him.

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you.

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.”

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting.

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't."

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation.

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?"

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day."

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen.

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this."

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it.

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can."

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months.

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up.

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit.

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks.

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words.

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.”

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together.

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.”

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away.

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”

You nod.

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.”

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric.

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet.

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks.

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them.

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant.

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing.

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge.

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring.

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark.

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back.

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit.

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway.

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment.

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now.

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner.

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner.

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?”

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.”

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.”

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group.

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows.

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder.

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.”

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina.

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.”

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning.

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues.

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.”

“Mhm,” Mina says.

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.”

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.”

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy.

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.”

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri.

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever.

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.”

You swallow thick and nod a little.

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.”

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree.

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from.

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink.

“Nothing really,” Mina says.

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly.

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?”

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask.

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?”

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides.

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.”

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.”

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude.

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?”

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond.

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.”

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting.

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.”

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds.

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.”

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in.

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us.

—

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation.

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop.

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it.

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough.

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago.

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize.

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.”

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.”

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.”

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?”

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.”

You recognize Katsuki’s voice.

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.”

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman.

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.”

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays.

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?”

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto.

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?”

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding.

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.”

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg.

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit.

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.”

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find.

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts.

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod.

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look.

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.”

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen.

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop.

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.”

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you.

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.”

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes.

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary.

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant.

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.”

You listen as you eat your crackers.

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.”

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat.

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.”

Mina laughs a little.

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.”

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“You’re really forthcoming with information.”

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers.

“Can you blame me?”

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked.

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.”

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you.

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop.

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder.

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down.

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl.

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it.

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula.

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper.

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.”

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely.

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering.

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners.

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at.

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now.

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly.

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask.

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from.

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back.

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it.

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it.

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from.

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it.

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him.

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up.

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones.

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward.

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind.

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks.

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.”

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion.

“Got everything?”

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it.

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers.

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread.

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well.

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out.

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe.

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way.

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk.

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation.

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says.

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?”

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?”

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again.

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something.

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?”

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm.

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world.

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.”

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way.

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.”

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb.

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days.

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any.

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be.

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source.

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet.

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.”

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice.

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.”

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.”

The group grows quiet for a moment.

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.”

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says.

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?”

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?”

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?”

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.”

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?”

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.”

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds.

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control.

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it.

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect?

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open.

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house.

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place.

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal.

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling.

—

“Need some help?” You say.

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck.

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?”

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him.

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably.

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?”

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.”

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work.

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly.

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch.

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively.

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.”

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?”

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others.

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.”

You tilt your head.

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is.

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.”

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little.

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-”

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.”

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side.

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun.

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable.

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that.

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character.

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow.

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task.

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket.

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.”

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out.

“You’re doing laundry.”

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?”

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.”

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit.

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.”

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive.

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick.

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering.

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence.

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace.

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.”

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid.

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little.

“Were you?”

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.”

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway.

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh.

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?”

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?”

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.”

“She’s pretty,” you say.

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.”

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you.

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little.

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant.

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?”

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused.

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little.

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.”

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food.

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him.

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into.

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you.

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both.

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position.

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet.

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.”

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope.

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.”

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes.

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier.

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house.

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel.

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better.

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator.

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?”

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in.

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #mha smut #bakugou fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #apocalypse au #tw.violence #tw.blood #tw.loss of identity #tw.derealization #tw.depersonalization #tw.exhaustion #cal.writing #char.bakugou

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httpscomexe · 2 months ago

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You? A Virgin?

Day 4 of Kink-tober - Virginity

Summary: Wade discovers you're a virgin, and it turns him on.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Wade Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Blood, more blood, kind of a blood kink, pv, pet names, violence, descriptions of death, crude humour, virginity kink. (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33 @foxherder @shybluebirdninja

Word Count: 1307 (Find my Kink-Tober list here)

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

You were covered in blood. A grin on your face as you’re bent over, hands on your knees, and a hysterical scoff leaves your throat. You looked like a damned psychopath. Covered in blood and brain matter, but yet, you were laughing at the body under you, his eyes peeled open in fear, or they would be if he wasn’t dead. He shouldn’t have called you a bitch. You step over him, doing a fancy little flip of your daggers before shoving them back into the little holsters on your thighs.

“Wow, that was hot.” He comes up from behind you, pulling you towards him, his hands on your waist.

“What was?” You giggle, his hands finding yours as he twirls you like a princess. A princess covered in blood.

“The sort where you were laughing while covered in blood. It’s fucking psychotic to the point where it’s sexy.” You chuckle, looking down at the floor, a shard of glass showing you how covered you really were. Your long hair was soaked in thick blood, dying it almost brown, some of it still wet as it dripped down between your eyes.

“I should be revolted, but you make it look hot.” Wade exaggerates the word ‘hot’ as he grabs your hand and twirls you again, it was easy considering the blood on the concrete floor was slippery.

“Well red looks good on you too.” You tell him, his feet avoiding the bodies on the floor as he turns the dance into a slower dance. It was definitely psychotic.

“Well mine is a suit.”

“Still looks good.” You shrug.

“You can’t even see my face.” He laughs a little, then stops dancing, pulling his mask off.

“Still hot.” You tap his nose twice before leaving his arms. “Maybe don’t use the mask when you fight.” Suddenly, a thump comes from behind you where Wade is, and you turn to see a new body on the floor, and Wades cheek covered in blood. “Yup, still hot.”

“God if we fucked it would be a total blood bath.”

“Neither of us have blood between our legs.”

“Have you ever been fucked on your period?” He asks casually and you just turn back towards him with your eyebrow tilted questioningly.

“I’ve never been fucked.”

A comidical gasp comes from his mouth, and his hands raise up to cover his lips. “No fucking way.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Cause you’re sexy as fuck!” He shouts, blasting a bullet into a man’s head as he groans in pain, and you chuckle a little. “I mean come on, you? A virgin?”

“Yes, me. A virgin.”

“I’m jealous.”

“Why would you be jealous about that?” You chuckle, using your sleeve to wipe some blood off your face as you bend over and reach into one of the man’s pockets, searching for the paper you’d gone there for in the first place.

“I’m jealous about whoever will have the pleasure in taking you first.” You fluster a little, something Wade doesn’t notice from the blood still draining your face, a natural blush.

“It isn’t that special.”

“Your first time is always special.” He tells you, his hand finding your lower back as you stand straight again, the folded piece of paper with written plans inside in your hand is quickly stuffed into your pocket.

“Wow, who knew you were so romantic.” You sarcastically roll your eyes, a teasing grin forming on your lips as you feel his hand grasp your ass.

“Well if I knew you were a virgin I would’ve helped you months ago.” He groans, pulling you against him.

“Well that’s too bad huh?” You ask rhetorically, not realising he isn’t joking as much anymore.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck someone while they’re covered in multiple other men’s blood.”

“That’s a weird thing to have on your bucket list.”

“Can you help me mark it off? I’ve got that 207th bone right now.” He begins to whisper as he pulls you further against him.

“You always have a 207th.”

“Feels like 208 when I’m around you…” He suddenly leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss, his tongue trailing over your lips as you part them, allowing him to deepen the kiss. “Fuck you taste like 23 different bad guys.” You giggle, throwing your head back a little and his lips latch onto the skin of your throat, causing a moan to come from your throat.

“Wade, we need to go.” You chuckle, attempting to move away, but his hold tightens on you.

“No we don’t, everyone’s dead. Let’s fuck. I’ll show you a really good time.”

“Right now?”

“Yea, or I swear to God I’ll be calling you ‘Little Ms. Virgin' in front of everyone.”

“You better not.” You arms wrap behind his head.

“Well let’s get going…” He mumbles, leaning forward again to continue his soft kisses to your lips, his body slowly walking you backwards until your back hits a pillar of the warehouse, his hips gently beginning to rock against your in a steady rhythm.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, and fuck it sounded so hot. Consent really is sexy.

You nod, and his hands reach down between your bodies, his fingers quickly hooking into your combat pants, and his lips never leave yours, causing sloppy and messy kisses to slobber your lips, making you chuckle. You expected nothing more from Wade.

“Fuck I’ve waited for this…” He tells you, pulling your shorts off before undoing the zipper on his suit, one you didn’t know was even there as he pulls his cock out. For your first time, you were definitely confident.

It was just how you felt around Wade.

Confident.

“You ready fox?” You nod, a little urgently. And he wastes no time, his hands gripping your ass as he pushes into you, his lips never leaving yours as you moan into his mouth, causing a groan to come from his.

“Fuck- Wade…” You moan as he begins thrusting in and out of you. As much as you wanted to feel like it was wrong.

You’d just murdered about 50 people together, who were all currently lying on the ground all dead in front of you, some of their mouths hanging open, or some of their stomachs hanging open. But here you were, letting Wade fuck you against one of the pillars. The same pillar you had smashed someone’s head into repeatedly to crack his skull. But you didn’t care.

Wade was your best friend. Even considering he was fucking you into a murder pillar right now. You weren’t sure if this would change your relationship name. From best friends to lovers? Perhaps friends with benefits. Maybe even best friends with benefits. Whatever it would be, you didn’t mind. You were also sure he wouldn’t mind, as long as it included you.

He had joked about getting into a relationship with you before, but you always shrugged it off with a joke. Fuck I’ve waited for this. His words repeat in your head as his lips find your neck again, kissing and biting as your throat vibrates with moans, his dick still sliding in and out of you. He’s wanted this…

“Fuck baby you feel amazing…”

“Logan is totally gonna regret not coming today…”

“Get it? Coming?”

Anyone else might’ve been annoyed, or turned off. But his little jokes while he was pounding you into a concrete pillar made you laugh, your foreheads connected as he suddenly slows down, your hips rocking forward as your mouth hangs open, the feeling of him spilling inside of you causing you to moan, causing you to finish with him.

“I knew you were perfect…” He tells you, gently pulling out of you and he helps you put your feet on the ground.

“Still though… I can’t believe you were a virgin…”

#marvel #marvel smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #smut #deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson #wade x reader #wade wilson x reader #deadpool smut #wade wilson smut #kinktober #2024 kinktober #kinktober 2024 #wade wilson kinktober #virginity kink

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obsessedwithtoomanythings · 2 years ago

Text

Keep Your Eyes Open

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, P in V, female anatomy, reader is called she, lots of talk of guns, but no gunplay (I mean, it’s on the table and it’s in her hand, but it’s never explicitly used for the sexual stuff), dirty talk, crush confessions, Leon asks her out then fucks her.

Words: 4K

A/N: This is my first smut in forever. Cheers to Leon S. Kennedy for bringing back that smut inspiration! Inspired by this post! Thanks to @angelltheninth for letting me write it!

“Listen, you know I consider you a friend… but-” Hunnigan starts, eyes filled with concern as she looks over the piece of paper littered with holes. Let’s just say more of my shots ended up in the wall behind the target than the actual target.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been going every day, Ingrid.” My defense is pointless, and we both know that.

“Your firearm recertification is in 3 days. If your accuracy doesn’t get better by then, you won’t be allowed to carry a gun. Do you understand what that means?” She asks as if I haven’t been losing sleep over the issue.

“I know.” It means I’ll be the only agent in this fucking building who isn’t carrying a gun. “I’ll become ‘the girl who can’t carry a gun’ faster than you can say ‘fuck off’.��

A scowl comes from the agent in front of me. “Language,” she reminds. “Maybe you should ask another agent to help?”

“And let the whole building know I’m about 11 shots away from failing my recertification? Pass. I’ll just go practice some more,” I scoff, before turning on my heel to step toward the door.

“Just think about it! I know a lot of agents who aren’t dicks and who are more than willing to help!” She shouts, but I’m not listening anymore. I step out of Ingrid’s office into the cool hallway, shutting the door behind me with an almost silent click. Taking a steadying breath, my feet begin to carry me toward the place I’ve been seeing in my nightmares lately. The shooting range.

“Hey, rookie!” I hear a voice say, halting me in my tracks before I was able to close much distance between me and the stairs. I turn my head toward the voice. Leon Kennedy.

“What’s up, Agent Kennedy?” It feels formal to call him that, but while we’re in this building, it feels wrong to call him by his first name, given he is technically my superior.

“Agent Kennedy? Feels a little formal,” he says with a teasing tone, and I chuckle at him voicing my thoughts.

“Well, we are at work,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. Leon and I have become an unlikely pair of friends. The best agent in practically the entire country and the agent who is about to fail her firearm recertification. ‘Maybe he’d be willing to help me?’ The thought is dismissed as quickly as it appeared. ‘And make him think you’re incompetent? Pass.’

“True. Still feels weird though, Agent.”

“Wow!” I gasp in feigned surprise. “I’m not ‘rookie’ anymore?” A small smile makes its way across his lips as he chuckles.

“You’re definitely still ‘rookie’, just felt like being nice.” His comment is followed by a brief roll of my eyes.

“Okay but seriously? What’s up? I have some stuff I have to do, unfortunately,” I sigh, anxiety filling me again.

“Well, I wanted to see what you were up to.” The smile is still there. Any idiot with eyes can see how attractive Leon is. Bright baby blues, cut jawline, nose that anyone would be lucky to sit on. I have definitely had more than my fair share of daydreams starring the agent in front of me.

“I was headed down to the shooting range. I have my recertification in 3 days.” I pray he’ll opt to find something else to do.

“Oh, that shit’s a cakewalk.” Yeah, for you.

“I really want to practice a bit more. I get nervous before stuff like this.” Admitting this is not an easy feat, my cheeks dusting a light pink in embarrassment.

“Okay,” he says, and for a moment, I think he’ll depart with a ‘good luck’ and a wave. Why the hell would I be so lucky? “I’ll come with. I’ve taken that test a few times so I’ll be able to reassure you that you’ll pass with flying colors.” My eyes widen significantly, and the nerves suddenly take over my tongue.

“N-no!” I stutter, much louder than I intended. His eyebrows furrow over in confusion at the sudden outburst. “I-I just assume you’ve got better things to do.” Smooth.

“Not really. I was hoping to spend some time with you, so it’s no big deal.” Kill me now. He moves toward me, wrapping an arm around my waist to turn me and walk toward the range. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

This is going worse than I could have ever imagined. The target has maybe 3 holes in it and I’ve unloaded a whole clip of 15 shots.

“Well, it’s better than the last clip,” he chuckles, eyes still locked on my practically unscathed piece of paper. The shots didn’t even hit anything vital. I drop my head to the countertop in front of me in defeat.

“I may as well just hand over my gun right now,” I mutter into the hard surface below my forehead. Leon’s hand rests on my back comfortingly before he speaks.

“No, come on. I’ll help you,” he says, bringing the target closer to switch it out for a new one. I turn my head toward him with raised eyebrows, mostly in a ‘how can you possibly fix this?’, my temple resting against the cool surface now. “I noticed a couple of things you can fix that’ll help.” A sigh, forehead back on the counter. Leon pats my back again. “Seriously. Come on.” I rise up again, cheeks red from embarrassment as he pushes the target back to the required distance. Not that I think I’d do any better if it was closer.

“Leon, it’s pointless.”

“No, it’s not. Raise the gun.” I roll my eyes and do as he instructed. “Okay, first off, you’re locking your elbows. Loosen up.” He says, tapping a finger in the crook of my elbow. A chill runs down my spine at the contact. ‘Wow, it’s been too long since I got laid.’ I drop my elbows slightly, noting that it definitely feels awkward.

“This feels weird,” I mutter. Leon smirks.

“I’m sure it does if you’ve been firing with your elbows like that. Loosening them helps with controlling movement caused by the recoil.” He explains, and I’m grateful he’s actually telling me reasons, as it’ll make it easier to remember. “Do you fire with your feet like that?” I glance down at my position, my feet across from each other, shoulder width apart.

“Yeah?” I say, forming it as a question.

“Bring your dominant foot forward. It’ll steady you more,” He says, his tone definitely airing more on the professional side.

“Sir, yes, sir.” The words are mumbled with a light giggle at the end, and a small smile raises the corner of Leon’s lips.

“Okay try firing now.”

I squeeze the trigger slowly, the jolt surprises me which causes my eyes to close for a split second, and to steady myself, I accidentally move my feet back into their original position. The shot lands in the wall. Again. The disappointment on my face must be tangible from a mile away.

“Okay, I think I can fix this actually,” he says, and I sigh in defeat.

“Yeah I’m sure you can, super cop.”

Suddenly, as if the world is working against me, his much larger frame is pressed against my backside. Feeling his chest rise against my back and his hips grazing my ass, I breathe in a quick gasp. Completely enveloped in his scent, hard lines of muscle and heat practically radiating from him, it’s a miracle I don’t melt into a puddle right here on the concrete. His hands find my ear protection, removing the makeshift headphones from my ears, much to my confusion.

“The problem is,” he says, his breath tickling my ear, and I swear he can feel the shiver that runs down my spine, pooling in my panties. “You’re scared of it.”

“W-what?” I stutter, completely affected by his presence.

“You’re scared of the gun. The recoil scares you, and so does the sound of the shot,” he explains, voice barely above a whisper. “I think you’ll find the sound isn’t nearly as loud as you think.” His arms come up, fingers grazing along my skin which causes goosebumps to rise across my arms. He rests his hands right below my elbows, the warmth practically seeping into my bones. “Let me take the recoil. Just focus on keeping your eyes open.” His words send a wave of heat through my spine and I try and fail to not shift against him. His leg shifts forward, forcing my dominant leg into the position he recommended earlier, which presses his hips tighter against me. I almost topple over from the overwhelming sensation of heat from him mixed with his intoxicating scent filling my senses, and for a moment, my vision blurs and I squeeze my eyes shut to clear the sight. Like flipping a switch, his fingers graze my chin, lightly pressing against the edges of my jaw to get my attention.

“Leon, I can’t-”

“I believe I asked you to keep these open, sweetheart.” The agent’s voice is rough in against my ear, and I can feel the vibrations from his words rumble through his chest against my back. It feels like I peel my eyes back open as they beg to remain closed, and I attempt to get my focus on the target in front of me instead of the man behind me. “Now, squeeze the trigger.”

As I do, his hips move forward against me, and I release a gasp. Focusing on keeping my eyes open. The shot rings out, not nearly as loud as I assumed without the ear protection on. Exactly like Leon said. It makes contact with the paper, inches from the paper’s bullseye. My jaw drops at the sight. I actually hit the target.

“Good girl,” he mutters, arms dropping to rest against my waist tenderly. “Told you. You were focusing on it too much.” I feel my arms relax, pointing the barrel of the gun toward the counter as I attempt to turn around to face him, but his frame is like a brick wall.

“Leon,” I begin before another intake of air comes from my chest as Leon’s lips land on the soft skin of my neck. The reaction is immediate, my hips canting back toward him as I set the gun down.

“Nuh uh, baby. Pick that back up and finish unloading the whole clip,” he breathes into the column of my throat. “Want you to get used to this stance so you’re ready for your exam.” The light kisses quickly dissolve into small nips and bites, a moan tearing from my lips as my head lolls back, resting on his shoulder. He stops immediately.

“Leon wait-”

“I told you to finish firing the clip. It’s only 14 more shots. I think you can handle it.” A breath breaks from my chest as I lean forward, arms coming back up into the position Leon had put me in, although his hands remain on my hips this time. The gun goes off again with a bang once, twice, three times, landing in similar spots as the first shot, although they are definitely getting closer to the edge of acceptable. They are hitting the target though. As I squeeze the fourth shot, the man behind me pushes his hips forward again. “Stop thinking, sweetheart.”

“You know, if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just asked me to dinner.” The words come out much more breathy than intended, and I feel like I’m waving a neon sign that says ‘I want you to fuck me’. He chuckles lowly against me, his breath tickling my ear once again.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take that,” he admits.

“But pushing your hips into me isn’t more forward than that?” I tease. Fifth shot. Only 9 more. He shrugs.

“I came up behind you to gauge the reaction before I did that though, didn’t I?”

“And what did my reaction tell you, Agent Kennedy?” My words are much softer now as if talking louder would shatter the mood of the room, which is alight with tension.

“That you want me to fuck you silly.” Sixth shot. “Did I read that right, rookie?”

Seventh shot. I nod gently, trying not to seem eager, despite the fact that my panties are practically ruined by this point, heat gathering in my lower belly and twisting.

“Leon, can we just-” His fingers skim over the waistline of my skirt, just barely dipping below it.

“No. Not until I know you’ll pass that recertification.” He’s gone back to nipping at my neck until he finds that patch of skin where my neck meets my shoulder. A moan leaves my lips unbidden, and I can practically feel his smirk against my skin. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Eighth shot. More than halfway done. His hand drops down further into my skirt until it’s grazing across the damp spot on my panties and I feel more than hear the low groan that he releases. “Fuck, baby.” My arms go lax as his fingers draw a single circle over my clit through the delicate lace before he moves to remove his hand altogether.

“Leon, no,” I protest as he presses his lips against my ear, intentionally using a low rumbling tone.

“Finish. Firing.” The command springs arms back up into position.

Ninth shot. Tenth shot. Eleventh shot.

“Doing so good, baby,” The praise goes straight through me, a wave of arousal leaking through the lace. Hands dropping back down to my clit, Leon pushes my panties to the side easily, swirling a finger through the wetness pooling there before bringing it up to press cruelly against my nerve endings. “Is all this for me, sweetheart?” Twelfth shot. I nod, lips pressed tightly together to muffle the squeaks and sounds attempting to leave my throat from his attention. Thirteenth shot. One more.

As I squeeze the trigger on the final shot, Leon’s fingers press into me harshly, hitting that sweet spongy part inside unintentionally and it causes a jolt in my limbs. The shot hits the wall with a pop. I hear a brief ‘tsk-tsk’ in my ear before he speaks.

“Reload.”

“But I-”

“I said, reload. You’re gonna do all fifteen again.” Dread takes over and I feel tears pool in my eyes in frustration, and Leon coos in my ear at the sight. “Oh, poor baby. You can do this.”

“Leon, please, I can’t. I need-” I gasp, setting down the gun on the counter being careful not to flag either of us. (cause gun safety is a thing).

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.” Cocky asshole.

“You.” The word is nothing but a plea.

“Aw, baby. How about I give you what you need, and then you fire off those fifteen shots? That sound like something you can do for me, pretty girl?” I nod eagerly against his shoulder before his hand is between my shoulder blades, pressing my chest to the chilly countertop.

“What about the door?” I ask, breathless and red in the face.

“I locked it when we came in here,” he mumbles as he grips the hem of my skirt and brings it up until he can see the damp lace covering me. Did he plan this? The question surfaces but before it can leave my mouth, my panties hit the floor around my ankles. “Fuck, I wanna taste you,” he whispers, more to himself than anything, but I groan in protest.

“Please just fuck me, Leon,” I practically beg, impatience leaking from my pores at this point.

“I don’t know babe, I’m kinda hungry,” he says, and I don’t need to turn around to know his signature smirk is plastered on his face.

“I will let you later, I promise. I need you right now. Inside.” His chest presses to my back, bringing his mouth close enough to hear him as he speaks.

“Later? You saying you want more than just this?” The clinking of his belt is audible over my heavy breathing because of course, I’m the only one out of breath. I nod. “I wanna hear it, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. I like you,” I start, arms splayed out flat over the top of the counter, fingers searching for purchase.

“Maybe we should get dinner after this then?” He asks, still smiling. I nod.

“Fucking finally,” I mutter and upon hearing this, Leon laughs. Not a deep chuckle, not a teasing sound, a real laugh. An almost embarrassed laugh. Hands finding my waist and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“Took my time with it, didn’t I?” He asks, and I can hear the nerves in his tone. He’s embarrassed. Like, really truly embarrassed.

“Yeah, you sure di-” The words are cut off as he presses the head against my entrance, dipping the tip in for the briefest of seconds before pulling out and repeating the process. It feels like hours of this torture, his teasing thrusts and slight grazes over my clit before he finally, finally, slides in to the hilt, bottoming out in one stroke. We both release groans at the sensation of my walls molding to accommodate his length, twitching, and spasming as I tighten unconsciously.

“Holy shit, pretty girl, I wasn’t expecting you to be this tight,” he growls into my spine, hunched over my frame as he collects himself. When he does, he leans back, hands moving from my hips to grasp my shoulders, bringing my front away from the surface til I’m practically upright, his cock still nestled snuggly in my heat.

“What are you-”

“Now, reload the gun.” His tone sends a wave of slick down around his length, and he rumbles a groan against my collarbone.

“What-”

“I told you that you were gonna fire off those fifteen shots.” My hands shake as I grasp the glock in my hands, reloading and then trying and failing to return to my stance, so I opt to just position my arms correctly. “Good girl.”

My finger in place, I take a deep steadying breath squeezing. Leon pulls his hips back and slams back home as the shot rings out, and I stop a scream from ripping free as my hands fly back to the counter.

“Lee, you can’t just do that.” The words come out as more of a moan than actual words, the syllables slurring together like a girl who’s had one too many drinks.

“Yet you still hit the target,” he says proudly. I look up and notice that there are fifteen holes in the paper. Sixteen total shots were taken and only one missed. Shit if I had known this is how to get good at shooting, I would have asked sooner. “Come on. You got fourteen more, sweetheart.”

The other shots follow the same routine as the first.

Shot.

Thrust.

Praise.

By the time I’m on the last three shots, my whole body feels like it’s on fire, every inch covered in sweat from his punishing thrusts, tears dripping from my eyes.

“You are doing so good, baby. Three more.” He sounds as wrecked as I feel, voice gravelly against my pulse. His hands grip beneath my elbows again, pressing them back into the correct form. “You are so close.”

The bullet hits the paper with an audible pop. His cock slams back into me, tip hitting my cervix hard enough that I’m pretty sure it’ll be bruised. Broken moans fall from my dry lips, mouth feeling akin to sandpaper.

“Good job, baby. Two more.”

“Please just come for me Leon, I can’t anymore,” My arms droop, barely able to hold the weight of the gun that I’ve grown used to by this point.

“Come on, you can do this. It’s just two more shots. You are doing so well,” he reassures before sinking his teeth into my skin, leaving a plethora of bruises and marks across the tender flesh.

“What if I miss?” I ask, anxiety poking through, mind locked on how he stopped last time.

“I won’t stop this time. You’ve more than made up for the shot you missed earlier.” I sigh in relief. Forcing my arms back up, I try to steady myself before Leon’s fingers find my clit and I squeal, completely losing my aim due to the tight circles he’s rubbing. “Take the shot, baby.”

I fire, bullet catching the edge of the bullseye and I feel a swell of pride before Leon presses a deep thrust accompanied by a swirl on my clit, and his name spills from my lips as a plea.

“Please come for me, please.”

“Tell you what, if you get a bullseye, then I’ll cream this little pussy, how’s that sound, baby?” The pace of his fingers doesn’t change, and I can really only nod, mind barely able to remember why we were in here in the first place.

Taking aim. Deep breath. Squeeze.

The bullet lands dead in the middle of the red target. I practically drop the gun from my fingers, relief overtaking my senses.

“Atta girl,” Leon groans, pressing my frame onto the counter as he picks up speed to a fast pace, leaning down to crowd against me. My fingers reach up behind me, bent at the elbows, to cling to his hair that grazes against my temple as my eyes squeeze shut. His name is a broken sound coming from my lips as the coil in my gut tightens with each twirl of his fingers and each pass of his tip against my sweet spot. “Open your eyes when you come for me, rookie.”

Most of his words are just a jumble as the coil snaps and a scream rips from my already sore throat, but I can make out a ‘good girl’ and ‘creaming my cock so good, gorgeous’ here and there through the haze of my orgasm. It takes a few more thrusts before Leon groans and curses, lips pressed to my spine as he spills himself inside my still-spasming hole.

It takes a few moments for us to move again, deep breaths the only audible sound in the silent room. He’s the first to move (him and his damn stamina), sitting up to stand before slowly pulling his length out, watching as his seed trickles out slowly and groaning at the sight. Leon reaches down, pulling my panties back up and adjusting them into place tenderly, mindful of the soreness he had no doubt was blooming. With a small tug and some slight wobbling on my end, Leon helps me into a standing position facing him now, small of my back barely resting against the edge of the counter as his hands hold me steady.

“You alright?” He asks, and I giggle and smile in response, leaning my face forward into his shoulder. He chuckles to himself, pressing a kiss to my hair. “I mean it, you okay?”

“Mhm. I’m good. You owe me dinner though.”

“Of course, need me to carry you?” I nod through a wave of sleepiness.

“Wait,” I say, hands on his chest as he looks at me, blue eyes shining with concern. “Can you kiss me?” I ask, shyness returning full force, and he laughs again. In favor of answering, he leans forward, pressing his lips against mine in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips are dry, as evidence of our exertion. We pull back from the kiss with dumb smiles decorating our faces, and he pulls my skirt down to cover my panties, planting another quick kiss on my mouth.

“So where do you want to go to eat?”

I step out into the hallway, flat shoes making far less noise than my usual heels. Leon looks at me expectantly.

“So?” I skip up to him, lips finding his as my arms wrap around his broad shoulders. Pulling back, I shoot him a smile before speaking.

“Guess who just passed her firearm recertification with flying colors?” I tease.

“Nice! See? I told you, cakewalk.”

Tags: @house-of-kolchek

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy smut

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insomniac4000 · 3 months ago

Note

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

"We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

#willne #will lenney #willne x reader

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mochalate · 7 months ago

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[3] new notification!

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.1k + 1 min of video (yes, video.) chocolate chip cookies are the way to a guy's heart. (everyone knows that!) a/n: wow I thought I wouldn't post anything this week, but one really good chocolate cake later, I felt alive. Perhaps Atsumu and I are more similar than I thought. 🔔Please use full screen for the video!

[<-chapter 2][chapter 4->] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

Back when you were still at university, you had a part time job at the campus gym. Legally, you weren’t allowed to call yourself a nutritionist at that point, but that’s what you did. It was never anything complicated— the hardest thing had been managing expectations.

No, you won’t have noticeable muscle definition in a month.

Yes, you’ll need quite a bit longer than a week to lose ten kilos.

That will give you results, but perhaps a more sustainable plan?

So yes, expectations. You’re in a career chock-full of them. You’re good at managing them. Even when it’s hard.

Or so you’d thought.

Can I keep starin’?

(Could it really be that easy?)

With four words, Atsumu Miya had ripped open the top of that flimsy cardboard box you’d oh-so-carefully stuffed your expectations in, and now you were struggling to (convince yourself to) put them back in. For the last few hours, you’ve been fiddling with that metaphorical scotch-tape, not quite daring to believe he could be interested in you— and yet unable to let go of that fantasy.

Was it a fantasy?

You can still picture his flushed-red face, the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes. It wasn’t the kind of look you expected from a flirty joke.

Or…

It's when Osamu has to stop you from trying to grab the piping hot handle of a cast iron pan for the second time that you realise you need to come back to your senses.

“Osamu,” you ask, timidly. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Atsumu.”

Osamu turns down the flame on the burner, and looks at you. His face is neutral— some people went as far as calling those droopy grey eyes of his ‘expressionless’, but you preferred to think of them as steady. Osamu always said it like it was.

He’s going to give you the reality check you so obviously need.

“How stupid am I for thinking I have a chance with Atsumu?”

You brace yourself for a scathing reply. Perhaps, ‘Next time, I won’t stop ya from burning yourself.’ Or maybe, “That oaf? Sorry, the only thing he’s attracted to is balls. Volleyballs, that is.”

What he does instead, is sigh heavily, and a little exasperatedly.

“Did ya two idiots finally figure it out?”

Your heart skips a beat. “What?”

“You heard me,” Osamu says, turning up the flame once more. He stirs the simmering broth as he speaks. “He’s been actin’ stupid all week. And you’ve been actin’ stupid around him for a while.”

Oh. Oh.

There’s no way you’re ever putting those expectations away ever again, because that stupid box is all soggy at the bottom now. Soggy, because the raging mix of relief and happiness swirling around in your chest— the weight lifted off your shoulders because you don’t have to pretend anymore— is making you tear up.

Osamu hears you sniffle.

“Aw, c’mon,” he says, tapping off the broth and setting the spoon beside the stove, “you know he isn’t worth cryin' over.” There’s a cheeky grin on his face, as he brings his large hands up to your face, wiping away the tears. “Want me to beat him up for ya?”

(You think he really might be your best friend.)

“You’re just looking for an excuse to!” You say, pulling his hands away as you laugh.

He holds them up in mock defence. “Hey, two birds and all. Are you going call him?”

You’re already scrambling inside your purse. “I�� think I forgot my phone at work.”

He clicks his tongue. “I take it back, yer perfect for each other.”

“Hey!” You say it indignantly, but his words make you feel warm. Perfect for each other. “Can I borrow your phone? Would that be weird?”

“He’d make it weird,” Osamu scoffs. “Just go over.”

“I— I should bring him something.”

He makes an amused expression. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what.”

“Are you asking me for help?”

You make your best puppy face. “Please?”

Osamu sighs. “Well, he’s been complainin’ about those raisin bran cookies for weeks now…”

“I think it would be best if you don’t say anything. Just let it blow over,” the publicist says. She’s using the speakerphone, and her voice sounds far away. Atsumu can hear the clack of keyboard keys in the background. “I mean it, Miya. Log out of everything. No, uninstall everything.”

“Don’t ya trust me even a little bit?” Atsumu asks. He tries to sound teasing, but his heart isn’t in it.

“No,” she says bluntly. The call goes blank.

Atsumu collapses back on to his bed, legs hanging over the edge. He holds his phone up over his face, staring at the ‘call ended’ until the screen turns itself off, and then sighs heavily.

It’s not that he’s worried. She was right, it would blow over. But it would happen again. And he knows that each time, it would chip off a little piece of you; and eventually leave your edges jagged and rough enough to cut.

You’d resent him for it.

Atsumu unlocks his phone. It’s easy enough to find those pictures of you and Osamu again.

You look so happy.

He doesn’t think he was being delusional earlier, he knows there was something more than plain embarrassment in your eyes when you’d looked at him; and yet, he can’t shake the thought that he’s being selfish.

The photo is cropped awkwardly, and he knows you and Osamu are close, but he can’t help but feel disheartened, and then hate himself for feeling like that. Were you two actually seeing each other? Was he meddling in his brother’s happiness, your happiness? What did he have to offer that his brother didn’t, save for the scrutiny of strangers?

The phone buzzes.

His eyes flick up to the notification bar. It’s a DM request from one of his new-found confidantes.

(Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do.)

In that brief moment, Atsumu understands his mother, and her panic at the state of the house when guests were imminent. He even understands, as he turns a couple of the trophies he has on display a few degrees to the left, why she would go around adjusting her many throw pillows in those last few seconds. That time seemed to stretch endlessly.

And then the doorbell rings, and time seems to somehow come to a stop and rush forward at the same time.

Atsumu stumbles on the carpet as he rushes to open the door.

And there you are.

“Hey, Atsumu,” you say, fiddling with the lid of the plastic container in your hands, “can we talk?”

(Wow, he thinks for some reason. I think those are cookies.)

Osamu walked her over because the publicist was calling around to find her, when she couldn't get a hold of reader on her number. He was worried about her going alone. What a prince. Divider @/cafekitsune Tweet images edited from here and Shokubutsu Zukan (by Tsutsumi Kakeru). Had a hard time finding the source for that image lol, it's been used in SO many fic headers. Each time I reverse image searched, If found a slightly less cropped version until it ended as the full page. and then i had to google translate this russian pirated manga site. next chapter will be the last + I will post a little bonus from the osamu POV. :)

#atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #my fic

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hardly-an-escape · 3 months ago

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sola fide | Buck/Tommy | 1170 words | rated T

tags: Evan Buckley character study, sick fic, mentions of religion, dirty jokes, established relationship, lgbtq identity

“Hey, uh, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you kind of a dumb question?”

“Of course.”

They’re posted up on Tommy’s couch, both with a weekend off at the same time for once. They’d planned to get out of the city, go for a long hike, maybe hit a winery somewhere. But Tommy’s been nursing a cold, so they’re taking it easy instead, and Buck likes that just as much as their adventures. So he’d made chicken noodle soup from scratch and brought over ginger ale and some of the violently red popsicles Tommy kept secretly stashed in the back of the freezer.

Buck’s quiet for another moment, gathering his thoughts.

“When did you know? That you were gay?” he says eventually.

Tommy looks up from the monster truck magazine he’s been leafing through.

“I don’t know that I can point to one particular moment,” he says, thoughtful. “On some level it was something I always knew about myself, even if I didn’t have the language to describe it yet. I guess… hitting puberty was kind of an awakening. Hearing other guys talk about girls we knew, or women in magazines, and realizing I just didn’t connect with what they were saying, like, at all. I guess there’s the fact that the first wet dream I had was about Brad Pitt in Thelma and Louise.” He snorts. “That was a pretty big clue.”

Buck smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He realizes he’s twisting his fingers together in his lap and untangles them, rubs self-consciously at the tops of his thighs.

Tommy tosses his magazine onto the coffee table and takes one of Buck’s hands in his own, rubbing gently at the muscle between his thumb and forefinger. “What makes you ask?” he says gently.

“I dunno. I just.” Buck sighs. “I guess I’ve been feeling weird about it lately. Not – not this,” he adds hastily, “not us, not even a little. This is seriously one of the best things that has ever happened to me – you are one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, Tommy, I mean that.”

Tommy gives him a sweet little smile, one of the ones that’s just for him, and squeezes his hand.

“I just mean… this feels like such a big thing t-to not know about myself. You know, how did I make it into my thirties before it ever occurred to me, oh, you like guys, you might fall in love with a guy.” His voice rises in pitch a little as he picks up speed. “It makes me feel stupid, and – and out of touch with my own self. Like, what else is really obvious about myself that I haven’t realized yet, you know? Am I actually left handed? Am I secretly an Olympic gymnast? Am I some kind of Russian sleeper agent?”

Tommy squeezes his hand again. “I don't think it's that absurd to come to an important realization about yourself in your thirties, sweetheart,” he says. “I think that's a pretty normal thing, actually.”

Buck deflates a little. “Yeah. I know. I just... I've told you about my brother. That whole situation. Not knowing why I was born, never knowing that he even existed. I think all of this –” he gestures between them “– in a way it kind of reminds me of that? Like, here you go, Buck, here’s another big hole in your life that you didn’t know was there until someone tried to fill it.”

He catches Tommy’s smirk out of the corner of his eye and untangles their hands so he can give him a shove. “I know what joke you’re about to make, dumbass. Don’t even go there.”

“Okay, I’ll ask about filling your hole later,” says Tommy, deadpan, and Buck shoves him again, and for a minute their serious conversation devolves into the kind of ridiculous, juvenile wrestling match that Buck secretly loves, that he knows Tommy knows he loves. That reminds him they’re both strong and okay and in tune with one another.

They settle, eventually, with Tommy lying back against the arm of the couch, and Buck cradled against him, grateful that Tommy’s couch is wide and deep enough for them to press together, side by side.

Buck sighs again. Can’t help it.

“I knew a guy in the army. Jake,” says Tommy out of nowhere. “Very nice guy, not one of the assholes who joined up because he thought the uniform would make his dick bigger, you know? When we were in Afghanistan, he made friends with one of our interpreters, guy named Irshad. Mostly we didn’t get close with the locals, but those two – they really hit it off. Stayed in touch after we got shipped home and everything.” He shifts Buck slightly and absently kisses his temple. “When I saw Jake again, maybe a year after we were discharged, he’d converted to Islam. He said his friendship with Irshad had opened his eyes to something. To this faith. He said he felt like that something had always been there – like on some level, he’d always had that faith – it had just taken a while for it to be revealed to him.”

“Huh,” Buck says. He thinks about this idea for a while, petting randomly over Tommy’s chest and belly with one hand while Tommy’s thumb rubs gentle, firm circles in the meat of his upper arm. He likes it, he decides. He’s not a religious person himself, but faith feels like something… important. Fundamental. Feels like a Big Thing, the way sexuality is. It does feel better, he thinks, just to know there are other people who’ve discovered one of those Big Things as a whole ass grownup. He’s not sure how to phrase it. But it does make it feel better.

“So what I hear you saying… is that realizing I like dudes and getting into your pants could be considered comparable to finding God,” is what comes out of his mouth.

He can feel Tommy try to maintain his composure and suppress the snort that wants to escape. He does his best, abdominal muscles contracting under Buck’s hand, but the laughter wins out and explodes in a kind of barking cough that sounds, frankly, a little alarming. Buck sits them up and thumps Tommy on the back a few times, handing him the mug of honeyed tea that’s been cooling on the coffee table.

“Evan,” Tommy wheezes eventually, “I’m going to need you to never say anything like that again.”

“Sure, babe,” Buck says. “But just to be clear, does that mean you don’t want me to get on my knees for you?”

And Tommy is laughing again, and Buck feels so much better. Feels warm inside, because somehow, Tommy always knows how to make him feel better. How to take the disparate anxious puzzle pieces of him and turn the picture right side up so he knows how to solve himself.

(“Oh, my God,” Tommy gasps between coughs.

“That’s my line,” Buck says.)

read on AO3 >>>

#my writing #bucktommy #911 abc #genuinely don't know how I feel about this one but I banged it out in record time so you get to read it <3 #tommy kinard #evan buckley

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justmeinadaze · 3 months ago

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Secret Underneath Part 8 (Steddie X Plus Size You)

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dp, skinny dipping, FLUFF, they love each other. They get to hang out with the readers best friend so she's protective <3

ANGST, not much (I know, weird! Lol), Boys hang out with reader and her bestie so she does quiz them a lot. Eddie talks about missing Wayne and gives reader more insight into his parents, Steve does that same.

Word Count: 4862

Series here/ Donate to Me <3

“Look, I’ve been her best friend since middle school so I’m not going to be as easy to suck up to as her parents.”, Mya announced making you smile beside her as you four continued to eat.

“Pfft, that was easy?”, Steve asked playfully as he stuck a fry into his mouth.

It had been a few days since the guys had shown up and in a couple more you would have to get ready to fly back home to get prepared for the new semester. The new year flew by with little to no fanfare and both men doubled down on your post by taking pictures with you and posting them on their socials.

Their lawyers weren’t exactly thrilled stating they thought both men should lay low but they didn’t care. They wanted the whole world to know how much they loved you as a person and not because of what their ex was saying. Beside that one post you made, you still stayed away from your phone for fear of what you may read. You weren’t ready to handle any of that at a constant basis nor did you have any idea how you would handle it when you went to work but you decided you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

Since he was the most recognizable, Eddie had his hair up and behind a cap as he ate but a few tendrils fell around his face almost dipping into the sauce of his plate before you reached over and moved it behind his ear.

“Thank you, babe.”, he garbled with a full mouth making his friend roll his eyes as you giggled.

“So what’s the plan for today?”

“Mya and I were thinking we could go to the little carnival down the way here. It’s an annual thing that we used to go to all the time growing up.”, you beam as your best friend leans on your shoulder.

“That sounds like fun.”, the mogul smiles as he digs into his wallet and places his credit card next to the bill that the waiter hastily comes to pick up.

“I can pay for my meals, Steven.”

“I know, Mya. Think of it as a Christmas gift since I wasn’t able to bring you anything.” Quirking his eyebrow towards her, she smirks in amusement before giving in and nodding her head.

“Excuse me, Mr. Munson.”, a little voice shyly asks as a small boy appears at the rockstar’s side. “May I have your sign?”, he continues, holding up his hand in a waving motion to signal he wants an autograph.

“Yeah, buddy, uh…”, Eddie’s eyes scan around the table, thanking you when you reach into your bag to grab a pen. “What’s your name?”

“Wayne.”

Eddie blinks and you see his smile falter for a moment before it widens again as he signs the paper the little boy handed him.

“You know, that’s my uncle’s name. He taught me to play guitar when I was a bit older than you. Can you play guitar to?” The child shakes his head and the man laughs. “You have to learn, little dude. Maybe one day you’ll be on stage with me when I’m old and gray.”

The boy laughs as he thanks him and runs off towards his parents who silently thank him with a wave.

“That was cute…Did you hire him?”

“Yup. You caught me, Mya. That’s actually my illegitimate son and those people posing as his parents are from my entourage.”, he replies with snark without missing a beat.

Your best friend glances your way as you beam up at her with a “told you so” grin on your face that makes her own smile widen.

“Point one goes to you gentlemen. Let’s go have some fun.”

***

You giggle as Eddie tries to “root” for his friend as Steve and Mya go head-to-head shooting basketballs into the basket in front of them.

“Come on, man. You were MVP in high school. She’s kicking your ass.”

“You’re not helping, asshole.”, the mogul breathily laughs.

The buzzer beeps loudly and his head falls as your best friend claps, raising her hands high in the air in victory.

“I’m ashamed of you.”, the rockstar sighs jokingly before laughing when Steve pushes his arm.

After extending his palm as an olive branch, Mya shakes it with big smile on her face.

“I feel like together we could be stronger, My. What say we kick their ass in bumper cars?”

“Sounds like a plan, Steven.”

Throughout the evening, your best friend had not only been listening to the guys but watching how they treated you, taking in every little thing they did. When you went to lunch not only did they pull out your chair but hers. While walking up to the carnival area, they made sure to be on the side nearer the street for you both and always ran ahead to open any door that needed to be opened. Their physical mannerisms seemed to display a radiance of protective energy. When they weren’t attentively listening to the stories you both were telling, their eyes were scanning the area to make sure everything was alright.

Even now, she watched as Eddie held your hand to help you into the bumper and then once you were seated he helped buckle you in before making you laugh as he pretended to speed off as the car remained still.

“Munson is going to be ruthless I hope you know.”, Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside Mya.

“I can buckle my own seatbelt, Steven.”

“I would hope so.”, he grins after clicking the strap and leaning back as he waits for the ride to start.

“So can she.”

The mogul’s face straightened as he turned to meet her eyes that were scanning his features. He understood what she meant and you had explained the other night that Mya knew what you were into in your private life. You trusted her with something so personal and he appreciated that. That’s how he felt about Eddie as a friend when it came to things they did. He wouldn’t have entered a shared relationship with him if he didn’t.

“We know she can. It’s one of the reasons we love her…because she can handle herself. We love her strength and her sassy ass which after meeting you and her parents makes a lot of sense.” Steve smiles when your best friend laughs.

“After everything happened, I looked you guys up. I tried to tell her things but she insisted she’d rather hear it from you. Obviously she knows about Gina but does she know about your dad? Does she know about the expose he did on you after giving you his company?”

“If she read that she’s never said. Y/N isn’t much of a business person and that was almost 10 years ago.”

“He doesn’t seem to have any real empathy towards you or your mother.”

“What’s your point, Mya?”, he snapped before realizing his tone and sighing. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“No, no. I get it. Trust me, I get it. That’s why I’m so protective over her. Y/N’s family has been there for me through everything and I see her as my sister. Holden took her away from us and everything she knew before breaking her heart. She looks at you two differently than she ever looked at him. She feels safe with you…so if you ever pull that bullshit again I will come after you.”, she warns as she raises her eyebrows and Steve tries to hide his smile.

“Noted. I promise if that ever happens, which it won’t, we’ll fly down here personally for you to kill us.”

Eddie’s hand reaches for yours as he leans back and waits for the ride to start.

“She’s definitely grilling him right now.”, the rockstar grins as he gestures with his head towards your friends.

“Oh, 100%. I’m sorry if she comes off as rough. She’s been through a lot and has a hard exterior but her heart is soft…kind of like you.”, you grin up at him as he chuckles. “I wanted to ask you, um, are you ok after talking to that little boy? You seemed kind of sad after.”

“Yeah, I’m ok. I just miss my uncle sometimes. He’s very much like my father figure, you know, and being in Indiana…I don’t get to see him as much as I want. He, uh, he adores you.”

“Me? Edward Munson have you been talkin’ about me?”, you tease.

“Maybe.”, he grins as he kisses your forehead. “Maybe we could bring you home one weekend or even during the summer so you could meet him and some of our friends. I mean…if you want to…you don’t…have to.”

Your lips tenderly kiss his as you rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I’d love to.”

The car underneath you suddenly comes to life gradually moving you and everyone around you forward.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s kick their ass.”

***

“Were you nice?”, you ask Mya as you walk her to her front door.

“I was nice enough.”

“So no then?”, you laugh as she smiles.

“They do seem to care a lot about you and they are genuine which I appreciate. Holden only met with me that one time and I never heard from him again. You think I would have with how long you two were together.”

“I’m sorry for that…for leaving you…”

“No reason to be sorry, honey. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m always going to be here for you.”

“Everything alright?”, Steve asks after you return to the car.

“Yeah, I just really missed her.”

You giggle as Eddie crawled over the middle console making his friend playfully huff as he tumbled into the backseat to sit beside you.

“Maybe sometime soon we can invite her up so she can hang out and see New York.”

You grin as you lean towards him to place a tender kiss on his lips.

“Can I show you guys something?”

########################

Both men’s eyebrows furrowed when you directed them to a college nearby but even more so when you guided them to a building that was locked.

“Ok, Eddie, baby. Can you lift me to that window please?”

“No.”, he answered sternly yet with a hint of teasing underneath.

“Oh, come on, Daddy. I would never do anything to get you in trouble.”, you joke with a smile before Steve finally steps forward and helps lift you into the building. After a couple of minutes, they heard the lock on the other end clink open and were met with your beaming face when you opened the front door, ushing them inside.

“This is the college I graduated from. We kind of had this club of cool kids who were able to come here and hangout. If the window is unlocked that means no one is here. I locked it after climbing through so it’ll just be us. Apparently students have been doing this for decades.”

“Where are we exactly?”, the rockstar asked as you three continued to walked down the hallway. After entering another room, the smell of chlorine hit them immediately.

They hear what sounds like a button being pressed and suddenly lights within a large pool illuminate the area.

“Oh, wow.”

Both men watch with fascination and amusement as you remove all your clothes before diving in the water.

“Are you coming?”

After removing their own garments as well, Steve gradually slid in whereas Eddie followed your lead and jumped in making you giggle as water splashed around you.

“We used to come in here after hours and just swim…talk about the future…maybe have a beer or two.” When you laugh, they laugh with you. “This was such a highly guarded secret and hard to make it into the club to hang out here. I always felt safe here with Mya and my other friends.”

“I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Their heads turn as their gaze shift towards you, understanding the implications behind those words. Again, you were trusting them with something special to you and opening your heart. They needed to do the same.

“We didn’t have anything cool like this at my college. I mean obviously we had a pool but…I went to a swanky business school which was my dad’s alma mater and I fucking hated it.”, Steve chuckles. “Ed kept me entertained through those four years, taking me to concerts and movie premieres when he got more popular.”

“Pfft, yeah it took a while. I think our first song started finding steam right when he was about to graduate.”

“When did your dad give you the company?”, you ask.

“It took about a year or so to pry it from him and even then he, uh, he struggled. He did an exposé on me a month after…the journalist asked him if he had faith in my ability. He said and I quote ‘If I had another Harrington to give it to I would but he’ll do fine I’m sure.’”

“Jesus. What an asshole. You showed him though with how far that company has gone.” Swiveling your head towards Eddie, your eyes meet his soft ones. “You didn’t go to college right?”

“Lord, no ma’am. My uncle wanted me to but it all sounded expensive and useless.”, he laughed as he swam closer to wall where you two were floating around. “Believe or not my dad went to college and he still ended up in jail. I just wanted to play my guitar.”

“I love the way you play. Even before I met you.”, you smile his way. “What was your mom like?”

“She, uh, she was kind and loved music. She was unbelievably funny, always making jokes that made me laugh.”, he grinned back at you. “To this day I still don’t understand why she fell for my dad. Probably why I’m terrified of becoming him.”

“You don’t have it in you…neither do you, Steve. With all the stories you’ve told me, you’re nothing like them. I think that’s why you both fell for Gina…because you think you’re capable of it. You attract what you fear sometimes… And just like with her and your fathers, I will kick your ass if you continue to think so negatively about yourselves!”

They chuckle as Steve grabs you and pulls you till your legs are around his waist. You sigh pleasantly as he kisses your forehead before you rest it against his own.

“She asked to meet with me, your ex.”

His eyes shifted into that protective mode as the mogul blinked and cupped your face in his hands.

“Stay away from her, Y/N, ok? Unless one of us is with you.”

“I’m not afraid of her—”

“This isn’t about fear, honey. She can do a lot more that physically harm you.”

“So, you can confront my ex but I can’t with yours?”

“You were with us!”, he growled before Eddie patted his forearm, signaling for him to let you go.

“Do you want to meet with her?”, the rockstar inquired calmly.

As you tilt back against the mogul’s grasp, you shook your head.

“I know she won’t tell me the truth. I just thought you two should know that she reached out to me personally. I haven’t looked at my phone since that thing I posted so I don’t know if she’s tried again.”

“Ok. Ok, sweetheart. If you change your mind, just let us know. We would prefer to be with you if that’s alright. We wouldn’t need to be in the same room just within the vicinity at least.”

Oh, vicinity.”, you tease trying to lighten the mood again. “Officer Munson kind of has a ring to it.”

“Pfft. Yeah it does. The way I would utilize those handcuffs.”, he groans as he grabs your waist and maneuvers you till your back is against the wall with your arms circled around his neck.

“Like you don’t have some already.”, you grin. “I’ve, um, never made love in a pool before.”

Eddie blinks as his head playfully ticks to the side.

“Didn’t we fuck you in a jacuzzi?”

“Oh my god, that does not count. It’s not a pool!”

“It’s an area filled with water.”

“Oh, oh, ok Steve. I’d like to see you swim laps in a jacuzzi!” As you giggle almost uncontrollably, you pull the rockstar into your embrace and hug him tightly to you. When your laughter subsides, your fingers thread through his hair as you feel his nose graze your neck. “I love you, Eddie.”, you whisper, softly smiling when he tilts back to pet your head.

“I love you to, sweetheart. Fuck, I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”, he exhales almost breathlessly before his lips kiss yours. As you reach between your bodies, his eyes close as his head dips back as you gradually run your palm along his cock.

“You wanna see something?”, Steve murmurs, kissing your cheek when you nod your head. Tugging you lightly away from the wall, the mogul adjusts you so you’re floating on your back with his hand cradling the back of your neck. “I got you, honey. Daddy’s right here.”

Water lightly moves beneath you before you suddenly feel your legs resting on Eddie’s shoulders with his cheeks graze your thighs. His warm breath is an interesting contrast to the slightly cold water you three are floating in and you can’t help but moan as your pussy clenches around nothing. Steve’s mouth attaches to your neck as the rockstar’s tongue flicks against your clit making your eyes roll shut.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good.”

“I think this is the closest I’ve gotten to you riding my face, princess. That was one of the—God, you smell amazing—first things we talked about, remember?”, Eddie asked in a husky voice as his nose continued to prod at your little bundle of nerves.

“Yes, Daddy. I remember.” The mogul’s large palm reached over to massage your breast as the tips of his fingers ran along your nipple. “Please… I want to cum.”

“And we just want to play with you, baby.”, Steve smiles as your mouth falls open and Eddie begins devouring your cunt, his hands digging into your hips to hold you against him. “Maybe when we get back home, we can utilize those restraints and just keep you in our bed all day. Can you imagine that? Just…tune out the outside world for 24hrs…and keep you with us for one day to play with.”

As he spoke, his lips trailed kisses down your skin till his tongue found the erect bud on your tit causing a loud moan to leave your mouth as he lightly pulled it with his teeth before swirling his tongue along the sensitive area.

“To play with you whenever we wanted and really get to know your body.”

“I-If…you don’t know…my body by now…I’m worried.”, you breathily laugh, feeling them both smile against your flesh.

Eddie’s tongue rapidly licked in and out of your core as your fingers roughly clung to Steve’s hair and your back arched.

“Oh, we know your body, honey, but we want to learn and discover more of you in ways no one else ever has. Things you didn’t even know about yourself.”

Your legs around the rockstars neck trembled as you came.

Pushing your limbs down and around his waist, Eddie pulled you up till your arms were around his neck and floated with you back towards the edge of the pool.

“Can I have you both?”

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Let me just…” Keeping a strong hand on your back, he swims with you to stairs nearby and sits high enough so the top of his chest is visible above water. “Your knees aren’t scrapping the asphalt of the steps or anything right?”

“No, Daddy.”, you pant as you kiss his lips and lower yourself onto his length.

Subtly rocking your hips, you allow your body to get comfortable as you wait for the palm that places itself on your shoulder.

“Ready, honey?”

“Yes, Daddy. I love you, Steve.”

With a soft smile, his fingers lightly grip your chin to tilt your head and deliver you a tender kiss.

“I love you to, Y/N.” His gorgeous eyes remained locked on yours as he carefully began guiding himself into your ass. “Mmph—no, no, no, baby. Keep those beautiful eyes open for Daddy.”

It was so hard to follow his command as they both slowly started thrusting into you but desperately did everything you could to follow through. You loved watching their faces every time they took care of you. In a sexual realm, their faces would scrunch differently in ways you found utterly fascinating. Steve’s perfect head of hair would fall along his forehead or frame his face as his eyes would roam your body. It was almost calculated which would make sense with the business minded man he was. He would physically take in any little movement, jiggle, or moan and store it in his memory to utilize whatever he did to please you again in the future. As he got closer to his release his jaw would tighten and his eyes would close as he fully succumbed to the feeling of you with grunts and an eagerness that drove you crazy.

Eddie was all feeling and passion in more ways than one. His hands and lips always wanted to be on you especially when he was inside you. He wanted his senses to be absorbed in everything in the moment. He wanted to see you fall apart, hear you scream his name or title, touch your sweat tripping skin, taste your lips, and feel you shudder around him as you came undone. Sometimes he wanted those things so bad that his brain would almost shut off and he would lose all self-control as he pounded into you not caring if the bed banging against the wall was too loud or both your moans mixed together could wake people in their building.

When they were taking care of you out in the world, it was more or less the same. Steve would take note of the surroundings to make sure you three were safe anywhere you went. His eyes would follow you when they took you shopping and made mental notes of every item you mentioned or even touched as you absently grazed it with your fingers. You figured out pretty quickly that he learned all your tells for when you were hiding things especially to make them feel more comfortable.

“You don’t like this, do you?”, Steve asked while you three were watching tv one Saturday.

“No! I like this show a lot.”, you defended making him smile at your incessance.

“Uh huh. You’re doing that thing you do with your hair when you’re zoning out.”

Narrowing your eyes his way, you can’t help but giggle as you sigh.

“I like the show…I just don’t like the host. He comes off like a huge asshole being mean to these contestants who probably worked really hard to be here.”

“Why didn’t you just say that, baby. We can watch something else and he IS an asshole by the way.”, he jokes.

“You watch stuff you don’t like to make me happy.”, you pout.

“Says who? Everything you’ve shown us we love.”

“Like RuPaul’s Drag Race.”, Eddie added making you laugh as he started singing the theme.

Eddie wanted to experience everything with you and did everything he could to keep a smile painted on your lips. Whether it was something small like a joke or a grand gesture like taking you to a concert where he danced and jumped around with you by his side, he savored it. With every hug, kiss, cuddle, or a gentle pet to your head, he felt like he was in heaven and would do anything to make you happy.

“Hey, um, I’m working on this song and I was wondering if you could tell me what you think.”

“Ok.”, you beam as you take a seat in front of him on the floor near his windows.

As he softly strummed his fingers along the guitar and his voice filled your ears, you realized the song he was playing was about you. When his eyes met your teary ones, he chuckled as he reached out to caress your cheek.

“It’s beautiful, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s not finished but—”

“But it’s perfect already. Thank you so much.”, you coo as you tackle him and he laughs harder, falling onto his back with you in his arms.

Eddie’s open mouth kisses against your chest had you mewling as you leaned your cheek on top of his head and your hands clung to the bottom of his neck. Little waves around you seemed to sway you forward and back into them as the pumped their hips a bit faster against you.

Reaching around, you pressed your palm to the back of Steve’s head, holding him to your shoulder as he warmed your skin with his grunts of pleasure. Trembling between them, you whimpered their title as you came, loosely holding on to them as they chased their highs.

“Jesus fuck—“, Eddie whined with a strain in his voice before wrapping his arms tightly around you as he filled you up. Steve followed shortly after suffocating his moans into your neck as his fingers dug into your biceps.

No one moved and you were fine with that as you held them to you. Tender kisses and soft murmurs of love gave you a comfort you never wanted to lose again as you silently prayed they would continue to keep their promise to you that what happened before would never happen again.

“Do they have showers? Definitely not a good idea for you to go out in the cold with cold, damp hair.”

“Aw, thank you, mom.”, you tease causing Steve to playfully bite you as you laugh. “Yeah, they’re in the side there.”

###############

Your mom smiles at you from across the table as you sip your coffee and stare past her into your memories of the day before with a little smirk on your lips.

“I know that look.”, she murmurs getting your attention. “When your father took me out on our first date, I couldn’t stop smiling when I got home. Your grandma noticed and said ‘Yup. That’s the boy she’s gonna marry!’” You both laugh till it tapers off and she meets your eyes with a softness you know all too well. “You can’t marry them, honey. You know that right?”

You slowly nod.

“But you would if you could? Reputation be damned.”

After thinking for only a moment, you nod again.

“Things with that bitch Gina Frost are probably about to make things harder. Add in their fans, her fans, and the world who ALWAYS has to have an opinion.”, she rolls her eyes. “Are you ready for all that.”

Biting your lip to stop the small quiver as your eyes become watery, you honestly shake your head causing your mother to nod.

“But to you their worth it and you trust them to be there for you every step of the way.”, she responds matter of factly as if she already knows the answer.

You firmly nod your head.

“I already warned them that I won’t do…this…again but I trust them when they say they’ll never put me in that position again. I love them, mom.”

“Yeah… It’s disgusting isn’t it? Love.”

“Oh, absolutely. Just fucking gross.”, you giggle as she laughs with you and grabs your hand.

“What’s gross?”, your father asks as he comes in from smoking and takes a seat by your mother.

“You are, dear.”

“Mhmm. I love you to.”, he beams as he leans forward to kiss her lips. “Now where are those pretty boys of yours. Breakfast is getting cold. EDWARD AND STEVEN! I DON’T KNOW HOW THEY DO IT IN YOUR MANSION IN NEW YORK BUT HERE WE EAT BREAKFAST AT 8:30AM!”

“I was trying to let them sleep in, dad.”

“Mhmm, no special treatment here. They want to be a part of the family then this is how we do things.”, he scoffed making you smile at his gruffness.

He liked them.

Eddie appeared first with Steve gently pushing his back to guide him into the room and into a chair. The mogul leaned over and tenderly kissed your cheek before taking a seat on your other side, immediately placing his arm around the back so his fingers could casually run through your slightly messy, bed head hair.

As you threw one of your legs over the rockstar’s, his eyes cracked open meeting your glowing ones as you tried to hide your laughter in your coffee cup. Lightly pinching your cheeks, he pulled your lips to his before leaving his palm on your knee where he would occasionally rub your skin through throughout breakfast as he slowly woke up.

###########

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