#second thought: is that a fucking nurse costume

[bloodysparklez]

you ever wonder how geto would feel about all the bits kenjaku does with his body

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[shawtuzi]

HIDE N’ SEEK FT. GOJO SATORU

summary- you and your boyfriend decide to play a little game of hide and seek at a halloween party

content warnings include- modern au, a little plot but mostly smut lmao, oral m!receiving, throat fucking, shoe humping, fingering, a little groping from gojo, sorta needy!gojo but he’s also pretty mean, unprotected sex, rough sex, tongue sucking bc i’m obsessed w it rn, squirting, creampie, geto is a perv, rushed ending, not proofread /// wc: 3.1k

a/n- hi!!! i’m back kinda from my hiatus so pls enjoy this bc idk when the next time i post will be lmao

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

gojo <3: i see you.

your heart rate began to pick up as you read the ominous text from your boyfriend. your eyes looked in every direction hoping to see someone in a ghost face mask on their phone, but unfortunately no such luck.

“why did i agree to do this . . . so stupid,” you grumbled to yourself as you shoved your phone in the back pocket of your sexy nurse costume. to add a little context you and your darling boyfriend, gojo satoru, thought it would be fun to play a little game of hide and seek at the costume party/bonfire one of his friends was throwing. you hide he seeks. the only catch was neither of you could have your location on and you weren’t allowed to tell anyone about the game. all you had to do was make sure gojo didn’t “tag” you before midnight. simple right? not.

you had thought nothing of it when he said he was going to be ghostface come to find out more than half the people at the party were dressed as the masked killer. it was easy to spot you of course—with your skin tight red and white dress and red stockings but trying to decipher which one of these people were gojo was simply impossible.

gojo was standing a few feet away from you, a sinister smile on his lips. he could see how frustrated you were becoming and boy was it a cute sight to see. your brows were furrowed and your red, glossed up lips were pulled into an adorable pout. you had the slightest tinge of fear in your eyes—between that and your costume he was becoming more riled up as the minutes ticked by.

you glanced at your phone—

11:42 PM

only eighteen more minutes and you were golden! you glanced at the part of the woods where it was dark and unoccupied with any party goers, without a second thought began to walk over to finish up the rest of the time. little did you know gojo was trailing behind you, quietly giggling at how silly you were for making this so easy for him.

“s’freezing out here,” your hands rubbed up and down your arms that were now covered in goosebumps. the only sounds that could be heard was the bass of the music from the party and your feet crunching against the dead leaves and twigs on the ground along with—another pair of footsteps???

you whipped around and were met with nothing but the party goers in the distance. you knew it was just a fun little game but you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that overcame you. you had half a mind to text gojo and call off the game but with only ten minutes left you decided to stick it out.

after a minute your phone buzzed in your pocket.

gojo <3- found you :)

“wha-?” all a sudden your front was pushed into a tree, you felt someone’s weight press against you along with something plastic poking against your throat. “i found youuu,” gojo giggled, pressing the plastic knife more into your neck. you pushed your backside into his hard on making him groan right into your ear. “no fair ‘toru…couldn’t find you anywhere with all those people wearing the same costume,” you whined, slick beginning to stain your lacy white panties.

gojo hummed and without a second thought shoved his free glove covered hand into your panties, cupping your sensitive pussy. “c’mon baby you know i don’t like to play fair let’s not act dumb hm?” you couldn’t see his face but you knew just from the tone of his voice he was grinning from ear to ear. gojo used his middle finger to rub at your clit, giving you minor relief while he humped your ass. you both stayed like that for a moment before he began to grow bored.

“suck my dick,” was all he said, removing his hand from your panties much to your dismay. “but—but ‘toru—” you were cut off by gojo squishing your cheeks together roughly. he pushed you down by your shoulders, not caring that the twigs were scraping and poking against your soft skin. (don’t worry he’ll bandage you up later if need be <3)

“now if you recall from earlier..” be began to unbuckle his belt, “we agreed that whoever won got to do whatever they wanted with the loser right?” he waited for you to nod your head before continuing. he slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his briefs halfway down his toned thighs. “and who’s the winner?” he giggled, tracing his almost painfully hard dick against your lips. you darted your tongue out to get just a little taste of him, making satoru visibly shudder. “you, you’re the winner,” you mumbled, setting your hands in your lap.

gojo cradled your face his hands, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip off the ghostface mask and kiss you till you were breathless. “don’t look so sad babydoll, i’m about to fuck your throat and your little pussy so good let’s look alive yeah?” he gave your cheek a rough couple of pats. he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open your mouth.” you parted your lips and with little to no warning gojo shoved the digits down your throat, impressed that you had kept your gags to a minimum. he rubbed your saliva around the length of his dick and gave himself a few quick strokes before pushing the tip against your lips.

you wrapped your lips around his dick and gojo’s hand immediately found purchase on the back of your head. “yeah . . . jus’ like—fuck, l-like that,” although he was putting on a tough façade for the sake of the situation it was fading away quicker than he had anticipated. you were just so good with your mouth :(

you didn’t even care that you lost, now too enamored in the pretty sounds that were slipping past gojo’s lips. and you both certainly didn’t care that anyone could possibly catch you in the act. “i need to record this shit goddamn,” with shaky hands gojo held up his phone and started to record you, quietly apologizing for the sudden flash of light in your face. you played it out a little for the camera knowing gojo was definitely going to use this vid for times when he’s by himself. you wrapped both of your hands around his dick and worked quick pumps around the tip while your other hand moved slowly up and down the base.

satoru felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking on his balls, nearly dropping his phone in the process. “you’re s-so fuckin’ hot, so hot n’ a-all mine yeah? please say it,” he didn’t give the slightest fuck how pathetic he sounded. all needed in this moment was for you to tell him his dick belonged to you and you only and vice versa. “yes toru all yours,” you hummed leaving kisses around the base of his dick. that was all he needed to hear before he tossed his phone to the side and began to brutally fuck your poor little throat.

each time your nose pressed against his pelvis from deep throating him it just gave him more incentive to put a fat rock on your finger and never let you go. your dress had ridden up and without even thinking gojo pressed the top of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. “hump it, hump my fuckin’ shoe and cum from it,” his ‘demand’ was shaky and breathless but nonetheless you listened to your boyfriend and started humping his shoe.

between gojo still ruthlessly fucking your throat and the laces of his shoe rubbing deliciously against your clit you were overstimulated beyond belief—and it felt incredible. he loved when he could turn your brain into a pile of mush and you enjoyed it just as much. after holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for god knows how long gojo removed your mouth from his dick, finally letting you get some air. you didn’t know if it was alcohol, the blunt you took a few hits of, or just horniness in its purest form but you were feeling insatiable.

you wrapped your arms around his thick thigh and planted your knees firmly into the ground before moving your hips with quickness. gojo was surprised at your actions, his dick visibly twitching at you getting off on his fucking shoe of all things. “i’m—i’m close, can feel it toru i’m—o-oh my!” a sharp gasp left your lips when gojo began tapping his foot just the slightest. “jerk me off n’ let’s cum together,” you didn’t need to be told twice as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, suckling on the tip as well to bring him even closer to his peak (and to avoid getting cum in your face/hair heh).

you both came in unison a chorus of moans and groans leaving both of your mouths. “that—that was good, you’re so good y/n c’mere,” gojo was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed your back right against the tree that was shielding you both from any potential spectators. “i wanna kiss you so bad,” he spoke softly, cupping and massaging your breasts over your thin dress. “but i really wanna fuck you with this stupid mask on,” gojo gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease, you weren’t even the littlest but surprised when his impatient ass practically ripped your panties in half trying to get them off.

“put it in for me,” gojo muttered, blindly shoving your tattered panties in his back pocket. you complied whispering out a little ‘anything for you toru’ before slowly swiping his sensitive tip between your pillowy soft folds. just as you were about to slide him in you heard voices and footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer and closer. “w-wait someone’s coming!” you whisper-shouted but that didn’t stop gojo from pushing his dick into you with one swift thrust. a broken moan emerged from your throat and you were quick your cover your mouth with both hands.

“put your fuckin’ hands down no one’s gonna see us,” gojo hissed, his toes curling from how tight and hot you felt. you hastily removed your hands making gojo smile behind the mask. “they might not s-see but they’ll—hah! hear us toruuu,” you whined burying your face in his neck.

gojo made sure your legs were securely wrapped around his waist before yanking the ghostface mask off, he pressed his lips against yours without missing a beat. “guess i’ll just have to keep kissin’ ya to make sure you don’t make to much noise yeah?”

“yeah . . . . you’re right.”

⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“do—do you guys *hiccup* here that?” a drunk, poor unknowing geto slurred out, his brows furrowing at the sound of grunts coming from the darker part of the woods. of course no one responded, too invested in literally anything else besides geto’s drunk ramblings—plus his jason mask muffled anything he had to say.

geto pushed himself up from the log he was sitting on, nearly falling over in process. “guess i’ll go look myself…dickheads,” he muttered to himself, making his way over to the suspicious noises. he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a particularly loud groan and that’s when it started to click. “holy shit . . . h-holy sh—”

“satoruuu!”

if geto was in his right state of mind he would’ve turned around with a quickness and forget this ever happened—but he’s not. his feet stayed planted, not daring move an inch closer. he hadn’t even realized be was starting to palm himself over his pants—already half hard. he could feel his heart in his throat as he took one step forward . . . and then another . . . anddd another.

he stopped once he could clearly hear the schlick schlick schlick noise of gojo pounding mercilessly into your poor pussy. he couldn’t see much but he could hear everything. he could hear your cute little pants and whines as you tried to poorly keep quiet, he could hear gojo muttering what must have been dirty promises into your ear, but in his opinion the best thing he heard was how sloppily you and gojo were kissing.

anytime your moans were becoming louder and more high pitched gojo would smash his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth without warning. gojo sucked your tongue into his mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest when he felt you tighten around him. “you taste like alcohol . . . you been drinking tonight love? is t-that why you’re being so—hah! fuckin’ loud? hm?” his ring and middle finger began toying with your clit and your lips started to tremble. hot, salty tears began to run down your cheeks making gojo giggle. “you’re s’cute when you cry, please cry more for me,” he cooed licking at the never ending stream of tears flowing from soon to be bloodshot eyes.

“you’re—you’re such a *sniffle* p-perv ‘toru,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his snow white locks. when you have a particularly harsh tug gojo’s knees buckled the tiniest bit, nearly making him lose his balance. “i see you’re feeling pretty mean huh? lets fix that . . . only thing i need you to feel is numb.” gojo removed his fingers from your clit and without warning shoved the digits between your lips. man oh man did you wish he would’ve taken those stupid gloves off, what you really needed in this moment was the feeling of gojo’s soft fingertips prodding at the back of your throat.

gojo slowed the pace of his thrusts, more focused on fucking your throat with his fingers. once he had his fix he removed his fingers from your mouth, smearing any excess saliva on your lips and chin. he slowly pulled his dick out, the moonlight mixed with the dim light from the bonfire making him glisten with your slick.

“n-no! no no don’t do that here someone will definitely hear me ‘toru,” you pouted, knowing good and well what gojo’s intentions were. gojo hummed as he rubbed his fingers between your soaked folds, pretending to to thinking about the consequences of his actions before giggling once more. “oh well!” he smiled, inserting his fingers into your pussy, immediately finding that spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“god do you hear how wet you are? such a slutty fuckin’ pussy goddamn,” gojo growled, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. you didn’t know how the fuck he was holding you so steady with one arm but you couldn’t even bother to care, too focused on your upcoming orgasm. “p-please . . . please add ‘nother finger ‘toru i need it,” you gasped loudly, back arching against the tree when you felt gojo begin to suck at your breasts over the thin material of your dress. gojo added another finger, increasing his pace until he felt your legs begin to shake.

he brought his lips close to your ear, nibbling and sucking at the lobe. “you’re so lucky we have to walk in front of everyone once we’re done or i would’ve torn this dress to pieces,” his words had your toes curling, and your eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.

while you were quickly chasing your peak geto was trying his absolute hardest not to reach his just yet. his pants were pulled down just enough to let his aching dick out and he wasted no time stroking himself to your pretty moans.

it was no secret to the three of you that geto had found you attractive—shit with the way gojo boasts about your guys’ sex life how could he not be curious??? yes curiosity. that’s all that this was. once he got off he would walk away and never think or speak of it ever. but he couldn’t help but think of the next time he sees you walking around with a limp and accidentally starts to wonder what positions gojo could’ve possible put you in . . . or wonder how brutally he had fucked your throat when he hears how hoarse your voice sounds.

his thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched moan that was quickly cut off by what he assumed was gojo’s lips on yours. he heard gojo say in a teasing tone ‘you tryin’ to baptize me over here?’ and he nearly cummed imagining your fucked out face and trembling legs.

a spurt of cum landed on your thigh and gojo tsked, shaking his head. “that won’t do, gotta be inside you now so i can finish inside,” he hummed, realigning his dick with your entrance. he pushed in with one swift thrust and that’s when your finally felt your brain turn into a muddled pile of nothing but lust and want. although it was dark gojo could still see the dazed look in your eyes and it brought a blissed out smile to his lips, which were now stained red from your lip gloss.

“c’mon baby talk to me, how do you feel?” gojo purred, pressing his forehead against yours. your words kept getting caught in your throat and all you could mutter out was a pathetic ‘feels s’gooood’. gojo could slowly feel himself begin to crumble, mumbling out incoherent sentences along with you. “i know baby i—shit, i know. feel so good ‘round me, so perfect you’re so perfect gimme a kiss,” he smushed his lips against yours with a clash of tongue and teeth—his fav kinda kisses.

“gotta big load for you baby, c’mon cum with me i know you can do it,” gojo’s words of encouragement finally brought you to your peak and this time you both just let it out. every pushed down moan and groan could be heard from anywhere if anyone paid close enough attention but neither of you could find it in you to care. gojo’s hips stilled as he emptied himself inside you, his tongue lolling out in the process. you were quick to bring your hands to his soft locks, gently scratching his scalp. “don’t do that, gonna make me too tired for the drive home,” he chuckled, giving your sweaty neck a sloppy kiss.

“speaking of, how am i supposed to walk with all this in me it’s a lot satoruuu,” you whined, feeling the urge to smack gojo on the back of the head for tearing your panties in two. gojo sighed, stroking your bare thigh gently with his thumb muttering something along the lines of ‘i’ll handle it’.

while you and gojo took a minute to regroup from your intense fuck session, geto was regrouping himself from possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. of course he felt disgusted with himself for spying on his best friend fucking his girlfriend but he also wanted more???

this was definitely going to be a problem.

[luffington]

nurse's office ♡

➤ summary: Even doctors need check-ups, so you indulge your boyfriend and put on a sexy nurse costume. (18+)

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.1k

➤ warnings: switch!law, modern AU, nurse-patient roleplay, praise kink, established relationship, fluff, silly porn dialogue, fem reader

➤ notes: i LOVE law with all my heart but i have such a hard time writing him.... hopefully this turned out okay and it's accurate to his character :')

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

When you returned to your apartment after work, the lights were on and a familiar black trench coat hung in the entrance, but the coat’s owner was nowhere in sight. You called his name as you slipped off your shoes and received no response. 

A muffled noise coming from your shared bedroom caught your attention.

Curious, you crept through the living room and creaked open the door just enough to slip inside. Law sat at his desk in the dark with his back turned away from you. Completely focused on his dimmed laptop screen with headphones plugged in and unaware of your presence. A smile spread across your face when you noticed what he was watching.

A busty brunette woman in an incredibly cliché nurse outfit batted her fake eyelashes at the camera as she deep-throated her patient’s dick. Your boyfriend’s inked hand rose up and down his own cock, eyes half-lidded and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his throaty groans. When you were literally right behind him, you leaned over his shoulder to read the video title out loud. “‘The Best Prescription In Town Is A Dose Of This Naughty Nurse’s Pussy’?”

Law’s entire body went cold.

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” He panicked, whipping his head towards you and accidentally ripping his headphones cord out of the jack. Exaggerated and unrealistic slurping sounds, accompanied by the male actor’s moans, started playing at full volume. Law forgot how his typically agile fingers worked as he rushed to pause the video. He was ready to diagnose himself with a heart attack.

Your eyes flickered to the bottle of lube and box of tissues beside his laptop. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I…” Embarrassment flooded his veins and he scrambled for a logical explanation. You were clearly amused instead of upset, but that didn’t deter him. Steeling his nerves, your boyfriend cleared his throat and prayed his voice didn’t shake. “I wanted to see how accurate this was, but it’s a disgusting mockery of nurses. This is completely inappropriate in a real hospital.”

“Well, duh,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes. You leaned closer to study the other tabs open in his incognito mode browser. One search for ‘hot nurse’ and another for ‘nurse fucks patient’. A second video titled ‘Nursing Student Gives Penis Exam’. A spark ignited in you. “Law, is this what you’re into?”

He stayed silent and let his head fall down in shame – which only directed your gaze to his quickly softening dick – as he mumbled a timid apology.

“Oh, baby, you have nothing to apologize for.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his neck. “Please don’t be embarrassed, I genuinely wanna know what turns you on. I won’t judge, I promise.”

“You’re prettier than everyone in these videos,” was his only response. He was such a sweetheart without even trying. 

Even though you’d been together for quite a while, Law still had a hard time discussing his kinks. The man had a neurotic need to protect his innermost thoughts and thick iron walls guarding every part of his mind. It took a lot of time and patience, but you’d managed to break down most of his barriers. You wanted him to trust you and feel comfortable around you; having fun in the bedroom was just a bonus. 

Pressing your lips to his ear, you teasingly whispered, “I can buy a nurse costume, you know.”

“Huh? Are you serious?!” Wide gray eyes met yours, a flurry of emotions overtaking his stressed-out expression.

“Of course! I’ll look for a cute one right now.” You pulled out your phone, pausing before opening your browser to bat your eyelashes and say, “Only if you want me to.”

“I – I…” Law fumbled for words, unable to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he licked his dry lips and hastily leaned over to look at your screen. “Let me see the options.”

The costume was set to arrive in 3-4 business days, which gave you and Law plenty of time to talk and plan. Both of you discussed what you wanted out of the scenario and what you each felt comfortable doing. You promised Law you’d do actual research by watching nurse pornos in order to imitate them, and he swore to never correct you mid-scene with his accurate medical knowledge. 

His steely eyes lit up when he spoke and made your heart flutter with love. As an accomplished surgeon, he took care of countless patients every day – of course he wanted someone to do the same for him. Nothing was sexier than seeing Law turn to putty in your hands, happily melting into your protection.

The fateful night arrived with a flimsy package at your front door.

Law sat on the couch in the ‘waiting room’ (also known as the living room), anxiously rubbing the letters tattooed on his knuckles and bouncing his legs. His throat was parched, his heart was racing, and his dick was already getting hard.

His jaw dropped when you opened the bedroom door – no, your office. The tight white dress hugged your body perfectly, accentuating all of your best features. Firetruck red stripes lined the sleeves and collar, and a prominent zipper ran all the way down the front. Your boobs were spilling out of the low-cut top and the skirt barely covered your upper thighs. A dainty white hat sat atop your head, sporting a white cross in a red circle that matched the one on your breast pocket. The look was complete with thigh-high white stockings, lacy crimson lingerie, Law’s real stethoscope around your neck, and a notebook and pen in your hand.

“Trafalgar Law?” You called out coquettishly.

His excited cock tried to answer for him, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “T-That’s me.”

With an overly sweet grin, you beckoned him into the room. “It’s time for your appointment. Follow me.” 

Previously arranged pillows on the bed mimicked the half-upright position of a medical chair. Law couldn’t look away from you as he shuffled towards his ‘exam table’, sitting down so his legs hung off the edge. You placed a gentle hand under his scruffy chin, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits. 

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Law didn’t have the confidence (nor the acting ability) to answer ‘my dick’ the way a pornstar would. So he settled for, “I’m not sure, miss. Maybe… give me a physical?”

“Ooh, a full body inspection,” you giggled, putting on a pair of hospital-grade latex gloves. “Please remove your shirt and lie on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only my shirt?”

Biting back a laugh, you responded, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?” 

Your boyfriend nodded obediently, neatly folding his canary yellow t-shirt beside him on the bed. It didn’t matter how often you saw his heavily tattooed chest – you were in awe of it every time. You opened your notebook, humming in mock contemplation and scribbling nonsense on a blank page in an imitation of Law’s terrible doctor handwriting. He tried to peek at what you were doing, but you quickly shut the cover. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed with a gentle smile and ruffled his hair.

He apologized curtly and settled back into a comfortable reclined position. Running your fingers along his jawline, you trailed your touch down the column of his throat and across his collarbones. Gently massaging his shoulders and feeling the tense muscles loosen as he let out a content sigh. You were unable to resist tracing the massive inked heart on his torso as you’d done so many times, lightly trailing your pointer finger across its flames and swirls and sending pleasant tingles throughout his body.

Repeating the action on his matching bicep tattoos, you cheekily stated, “Such strong muscles. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled, finally beginning to relax into his role. “You have no idea.”

“Let me check your heartbeat.” Not even bothering to put the stethoscope in your ears, you ran the cold chestpiece against Law’s nipples, forcing a pretty hiss from his lips. Rubbing circles atop them until both were stiff peaks, then teasingly rolling them between your fingertips until he was flushed and panting. 

Satisfied with his worked-up state, you pulled away to write more nonsense in the notebook. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously, what the hell are you writing?”

“Please let me do my job, Mr. Trafalgar.” You firmly smacked the end of your pen against one of his nipples. The sudden display of authority made his cock twitch. 

You caressed his defined abdomen muscles, moving lower down his gorgeous body and brushed over his dark happy trail. 

“Your chest seems fine, which means…” You trailed off and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Law’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, lifting his hips to help you slide down his sweats and boxers underneath. 

His rock-hard dick sprung free gratefully, angry red and twitching in excitement. You’d never seen him get this worked up so quickly – it made your cunt ache.

“Well, this is clearly the issue! Poor thing, you must feel so lightheaded from all the blood flowing down here.” You cooed, wiping his dark bangs away from his eyes in mock comfort. “I have to relieve this pressure or else the swelling won’t go down.”

“H-How will you–“ Law’s cheeky question was cut off by a groan when you curled your fingers around the thick base of his cock. Just one stroke pushed out several beads of pearly precum from his pretty tip. The synthetic softness of latex gloves felt strange against such a sensitive part of him, but it made the scenario extra immersive. 

“I need to milk you dry. Is that okay with you, Mr. Trafalgar?” 

Law nodded eagerly, too overstimulated to consent with words. He’d heard that phrase so many times in his videos. Your chest swelled with pride as you admired his submissive state. It wasn’t easy for your boyfriend to relinquish control to you during sex – no matter how much he wanted to – but he looked like he would die for you at that moment. 

You swung your leg over his body to straddle his upper thighs, cunt inches away from where he needed it. The movement caused your skirt to ride up and reveal a peek of your lacy panties. Law gulped when he noticed your soft thighs bulging around the elastic band of your stockings. 

Using both hands, you began to jerk him off with slow and deliberate movements. Dragging your palms from the base to the head with the perfect amount of pressure, making sure to trace the sensitive vein on the underside. A steady stream of translucent fluid dribbled out, the length pulsing and begging for more in your grasp. You paused to spit on his tip for added lubrication and rubbed it into his heated skin. 

Law was glad you were fixated on his cock rather than his face. He knew he looked pathetic. Barely three minutes had passed and he was embarrassingly close to cumming (though he was proud of himself for not bursting in his pants the moment you emerged in your costume). His abdomen muscles were wound tight and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Steely gray eyes never left your body, your hands, almost too afraid to blink. 

When you fondled his heavy balls, his orgasm hit him like a truck. Law threw his head against the pillow and cried out, painting white streaks across your baby blue gloves. You grinned watching your boyfriend heaving for air, finally meeting his gaze when you swiped your tongue across a thick glob of cum on your thumb. He watched dazedly as you wiped the rest of his spend off on your skirt, then tossed your dirty gloves on the floor. 

“Perfect! The swelling went down,” you grinned slyly and added, “but it might come back.”

“Oh, it’s definitely coming back.” 

Law grabbed your waist and quickly flipped your positions, pinning you underneath him by sitting on your hips. Holding your wrists above your head in one hand and using the other to cup your jaw, he pressed his lips against yours in a wet and messy kiss. You whined as he shoved his tongue down your throat, eagerly devouring your mouth. 

“M-Mr. Trafalgar, this is very unprofessional…” Weakly faking a struggle against his grasp, whining when it only got tighter.

“I gotta self-medicate now, miss, or I’ll never get better.” Your boyfriend kissed his way down your sternum, tugging down the zipper of your costume just enough to reveal your chest. He groaned at the sight of your vivid red bra. “Fuck, what a uniform.”

While mouthing at the swell of your breasts, your boyfriend stroked himself to full hardness – which didn’t take long. Desire was overtaking his mind and turning his vision hazy. He might actually have a medical issue if he didn’t fuck you immediately. 

Law slipped his hand between your legs and snickered at the wetness soaked through your panties. Pushing the fabric to the side, he unceremoniously thrust his E and A fingers in your cunt. Those skilled digits pushed and prodded inside you, a grin spreading across his face when he heard the sinful squelch of your drenched walls. 

“Naughty nurse,” he chuckled teasingly, gray eyes burning holes into your own when he sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“I’m not naughty,” you pouted. “My job is to make patients feel better, and this is helping, right?”

“Shit, yeah, you just might cure me.” 

Law tapped your inner thighs and you spread them willingly, unsurprised when he chose to shove your panties to the side and keep the costume intact. He pressed his swollen mushroom tip against your leaking entrance. With freed wrists, you gripped the bedsheets, heart racing and pussy throbbing. 

Rather than fulfilling both of your desires, your boyfriend paused in thought. “Hold on, what did you diagnose me with?”

You shrugged and defaulted to something you heard in a porno. “Big dick disorder?”

Law fought against every well-educated neuron in his brain begging to correct you. He took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated exhale, but smirked proudly. “I’ll accept it.”

His cock slammed into you and knocked all the air from your lungs. Bottoming out with a groan, he paused to lean back and admire your outfit, feeling his cock get impossibly harder inside your cunt. Fucking a fantasy nurse was a deep-rooted desire of his, and he was amazed and incredibly grateful that he was able to act it out with you. 

“Is this the right way to treat my illness?” Smugly punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your womb. You’d never seen him so talkative in bed.

“M-move faster… it’ll be more effective.”

“Okay. I trust you, miss nurse.” Law whispered seductively in your ear. His beard tickled your skin when he nipped at a soft spot of your neck. 

Setting a brutal pace, he pistoned his cock in and out, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Messy wet sounds filled the room – your cunt gushing and your tongues desperately sliding against each other. Law typically limited his vocal expressions of pleasure to grunts and soft groans, but something in him had clearly snapped. He had no issue throwing his head back and moaning unashamedly, interweaving spat curse words and praises of your body. 

He sucked on your tongue while switching his hip movements to a slow grind, his dick fully sheathed and rubbing against every delicate inch of your cunt. 

“T-Traf… oh, fuck, Law.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you tangled your fingers in his messy black hair and held onto it for dear life. He swallowed the string of saliva connecting your lips with a playful grin.

Shifting your position into a mating press, you locked your stocking-clad knees around his shoulders. His rough pace resumed, cock reaching impossibly deeper inside you, bullying your cervix with every thrust. Your body rocked back and forth on the shaking mattress. Every movement caused your hat to press against the pillow and reminded you of your costume – no, your role.

“Good girl,” Law panted, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Taking care of me so well with your pretty pussy.”

You whined needily, feeling your core tighten. “I’m s-so close, baby,” 

A sharp slap came down on your tit. Law’s eyes narrowed. “Be professional.” 

Despite his strict command, he rewarded you by pressing and flicking his thumb against your neglected clit. You bucked your hips into his touch desperately, grinding the sensitive nub on his calloused finger.

You threw your head backwards, arched off the bed and came with a cry of, “Mr. Trafalgar!” Arms wrapped around his back, legs pulling him in even tighter as your pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, flooding over you in a bright white light. 

“Naughty fucking nurse.” Your boyfriend growled with a pleased smirk. Hot cum coated your walls as Law let out a deep moan, your cunt eagerly milking every last drop. Your boyfriend kissed you deeply until the aftershocks of both of your orgasms had subsided.

He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Releasing your tight grip on his shoulders, you lovingly rubbed the giant skull tattoo on his upper back. 

“Thank you, miss. I’m cured.” Law mumbled happily, kissing your cheek. 

You frowned. “You are? After one round?”

“Oh.” That certainly wouldn’t be a satisfying ending to his appointment. “Um… No, I’m still very, very sick.” He followed it up with a fake cough. Not exactly a symptom of having a big dick, but whatever. 

Deciding to give your overwhelmed boyfriend a break, you took control of the situation again.

“I’m not sure how much medical knowledge you have, Mr. Trafalgar, but I have an ache in my chest.” You reached between your bodies to innocently spread your unzipped dress even more, pushing out your tits. “Mind checking it out for me?”

Law pushed up the cups of your bra without a second thought, groping your soft flesh with large palms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[avocado-writing]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[smashboxgirl26]

i crumble completely when you cry

ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! reader summary: this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, but sometimes mistakes yield the best results contains: proposal!! (for @/pityslash <33), kinda ooc soft bakugou but im blaming it on him getting a concussion, mentions of injury, lots of fluff hehe word count: 1.8k words masterlist

Katsuki awoke to a darkened room with white, tiled speckled ceiling cut into rectangles and an IV in his arm; you were sleeping in the plastic chair at his bedside, head leaning against the wall and your mouth slightly open. It was probably about two or three in the morning, judging by the dimmed light coming from the hospital hallway.

Fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He shifted around slightly under the thin sheets, grunting as he tried to move his (apparently broken) right arm to fit in the pocket of his hero costume. A sigh of relief pushed past his lips when he felt the little velvet box still stashed away, thankfully left untouched.

And god– fuck did his head hurt… but this wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

You were still dressed up — makeup and all, heels sitting next to you on the floor, the pretty black satin dress he watched you show off before you both left for dinner: now bunched up in your lap between your palms as you slept.��

You were definitely going to complain about the crook in your neck when you woke up from the way your head was angled against the wall. You should’ve just gone home and slept properly in bed: but he knew arguing with you would’ve been fruitless — you’d refuse to leave his side like you always did. 

Katsuki let out a small huff as he stared back up at the darkened ceiling.

This was supposed to be your anniversary. He had it all planned out: flowers, dinner, taking a walk through the park near the apartment to get ice cream, proposing in the little ramada he’d gotten Hanta and Eijirou to decorate with fairy lights and flowers. His mother’s old engagement ring was what he’d nervously tucked away into his suit pocket earlier that evening; she’d given it to him the first time you met her — as if she just knew the outcome of your relationship. 

And yet, not even halfway through dinner he’d gotten a call about a villain spiraling out of control. 

He knew his apology was lacking when he pushed himself up from the table, telling you he’d be back as fast as he possibly could; and he could tell how disappointed you were at the fact he was leaving despite how you playfully urged him to hurry before you ate all the dessert without him.

He’d slipped the ring in his costume pocket thinking he would make it back in time for your walk in the park — but that went out the window the second he was caught off guard and blasted through an apartment building.

You shifted slightly, against your spot on the wall. Katsuki almost thought it was because he was thinking too loud.

Your eyes opened after a moment or two, and blinked once or twice at him before realizing his eyes were also open.

“You’re awake?” you asked groggily, scrubbing your eyes before pulling yourself up from the chair. “Let me go get the nurse–”

“S’fine,” he stopped you before you could get out the door, lifting his head off the pillow because he knew you would come over and scold him for it.

Shit he felt dizzy.

“Don’t move right now,” you chastised him — immediately abandoning your mission to rush back to his side and help him lay his head back down on the pillow. “Is that comfortable?”

“Yea,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Don’ get the nurse yet… I don’ really want more fuckin’ needles in my arm right now.”

“...fine.” You pressed your lips together, concealing the lecture he knew you wanted to spew: him never being careful when he promised he would be being main point among those you wanted to address — yet you pulled the hard, plastic chair you were sitting in up to the bed and leaned against the mattress.

“...do you feel dizzy?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a concussion from your fall,” you turned your head to look towards the side, and he couldn’t see your expression anymore in the dimmed light from the lamp next to his bedside. “You also broke your arm from landing on it.”

“You saw?”

“It was on the news.”

You sounded on the verge of tears. He needed to apologize. He’d ruined your night.

“M’sorry,” he let his left hand drift over to where yours was laying on the bed next to him, his fingers catching between your own — grabbing you out of your dazed attention — “M’sorry I ruined our night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything Katsuki,” you shook your head, but he could hear the little edge of pain in your voice. “It’s not your fault… I was just worried.”

“I did, though,” he continued. “Tonight was s’posed to be just us walkin’ through the park n’ getting ice cream.”

“You had it all planned out huh?” You finally faced him again, tired eyes and a small, sad smile on your lips. 

“F’course I did, would y’expect anythin’ less from me?” 

“Of course not,” you humored him, bringing his knuckles up to your lips before planting a kiss over a small scab and pressing your cheek against it — staring faraway, somewhere his mind could never find yours.

“Why didn’t you go home?” he rubbed his thumb against yours. “Could’ve changed and been comfortable.”

You let out a small huff — “I couldn’t just leave you here. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“You didn’t have to worry about me, baby. Y’should’ve slept comfortably at home, come and seen me in the morning.”

You didn’t answer; instead, pressed another kiss against his knuckles before letting his hand come back down to the bed.

“If you saw what I did, you wouldn’t be saying that.” — was all you left it at — you tried to get up to get the nurse, but he didn’t let your hand go. “Katsuki–”

“Just let me be a lil’ longer,” he slurred, drowsily. “Come lay down with me.”

“Kats–”

“Please.”

“How could I–”

“Please.” He repeated, and you gave up to the pleading look in his eyes. “Can’t sleep properly without you there.”

He shifted himself over slightly, watching you hold your tongue once again with a little snort, before patting at the spot next to him. You climbed up slowly, carefully, trying to be as light as possible to not let the little hospital bed creak under both your weights — letting yourself melt next to him, your hand resting over his chest. You didn’t say anything, just nestled yourself into his shoulder with a yawn.

Something about the way you were positioned made it feel like you were hesitant to touch him — as he was as fragile as glass. Even with your fingers resting over his abdomen, he barely felt them there.

“What’s got your mind all worked up?” he asked after what felt like hours of silence.

“...nothing.”

“I know when yer overthinkin’ baby.”

You looked up to him, sad eyes and all. “I was really worried.” You sniffed, burrowing yourself back next to him. “I was just sitting in the restaurant finishing my food until I got a notification on my phone about the news — and I clicked it and saw the video of you being blasted through the building. There was so much debris, I almost thought–I don’t know what I thought… It felt like I couldn’t breathe or–or think… I just ran out of there as fast as I could so I could get to the hospital. And then, when you wake up, your first concern is that you ruined the night?” You huff, angrily and under your breath but you didn’t let him see it. “I can’t believe you sometimes…” 

“M’sorry,” he repeated, this time drowsily— despite the disapproving click you let out in response, he wrapped his arm around you: rubbing small circles in your arm to soothe the tension you continued to let off. These situations were the only times you both switched roles; the only time he was the one who had to calm you down when usually it was the opposite.

“Stop saying that.”

“I am though,” he continued anyway. “For making you worry and cry when I should’ve been careful. I got a little reckless tryin’ to get back to you quickly. I just… didn’t wanna leave you stranded there.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” you almost scolded him. “I’m used to it, I understand what your job is like.”

“Told you though, I had it all planned out n’ shit — stupid bastard ruined it all…”

“It’s okay,” you pacified him. “It was just dinner, we can always go out another time.”

“It wasn’t just dinner though…” He stopped himself from continuing, but looking down at your furrowed brow knew that he’d have to give an explanation. 

“We’ve talked about marriage before—” he started again after a moment of silence. A moment to catch his breath, to let his racing thoughts and heart subside slightly. “—about us staying together like this because we couldn’t really ever see ourselves with anyone else.”

You nodded.

“And I thought–I knew that we were both ready… So I was gonna propose.”

You didn’t say anything, and he didn’t dare look down at your face — not when he could feel the heat rushing up to his face like he was about to pass out.

“I uh, had this whole speech planned out n’ everything,” he stared at the ceiling once more. “Even had Ei n’ Hanta set up flowers and candles in the park near that cherry blossom tree we always picnic near.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“M’sorry for just bringing it up now, and spoiling the surprise ‘cause I could’ve just done it later…”

“...are you really apologizing for telling me that you were going to propose?” you spoke after a moment. 

He could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he looked down to see that his suspicions were correct — you were crying.

“Don’ cry,” he tried to wipe them with fail because he could only use one arm. “You know I get sad when you cry.”

“I can’t help it.” 

 “I know that this isn’t where you probably expected to get proposed to, but everything I said is true — I wanna spend the rest of my life with you n’ get those little moments with you. N’ honestly, as long as we have that, I don’t think it matters where this shit happens.” He shifted around slightly, before you could stop him: sitting up to properly face you and pulling a little velvet box out from his pocket. “Marry me?”

“Of course I will,” you tried to wipe away your tears before falling into his embrace — pausing after he let out a hissing sound. “I’m calling the nurse for real now.”

[training4theapocalypse]

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap. 

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door. 

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!” 

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask. 

Almost completely. 

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive. 

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work. 

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other. 

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. Fuck, he's heavier than he looks.

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling. 

“Can you get up if I help you?” 

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” you say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure.” You firmly move his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions. 

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes. 

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?” 

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily. 

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe. 

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at your compliment, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one. 

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your bed is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state. 

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you. 

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches. 

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach. 

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower. 

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might have been dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch. 

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed to kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously. 

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Lemme take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin. 

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again. 

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling. 

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses. 

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Fucking sounds good. Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

[celestiaras]

idk if u watched the wilson and vanta bunny garden stream… but vanta had a clear favorite (miuka) what if reader dressed up as her??

ft. vantacrow bringer x f! reader — krisis, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ surprising him with a bunny suit┊0.5k words

kinktober 2024: oct 1. costumes

contains: smut!! dom vanta & sub reader┊bunny suit cosplay, size kink & belly bulge, unprotected piv, sugar daddy vanta, established relationship

➤ author's note: alright guys, buckle up cause here we go, i’m starting my first kinktober!!

you knew it would have driven him crazy, but you just didn’t anticipate just how crazy. after catching glimpses of your hero boyfriend making good use of his off time playing what looked like a dating simulator with cute girls in bunny ears, you were quick to do your research and ordered a high-quality cosplay of his favorite character while he was busy. you made sure to have it delivered and put it on at a time when he wasn’t home, knowing that his nosey ass would have wanted to know what you spent your money on if he was.

he arrived a bit earlier than usual, catching you in the bedroom looking in the mirror while adjusting the rabbit ears. you caught a glimpse of him in the reflection and threw your hands up, shouting a cheerful “surprise,” and wrapping your arms around him in a welcoming embrace. he was still for a few seconds, processing your outfit and feeling his cock stir in his pants before pouncing on you like an animal.

the bow holding the white collar together was torn with the short sleeves pulled off your shoulders and hanging at your elbows, leaving your chest out for him to grope from behind as he fucked into you while you were sitting pretty on his lap. the blue skirt was once again wrinkled after you ironed it earlier, the black headband holding bunny ears was starting to slip off, and one of the golden buttons had popped off. “you know, when i bought an expensive, high-quality cosplay, i was hoping to wear it more than once,” you whined, feeling feverish with lust and sticky with a light sheen of sweat on your skin.

“nah, i’ll buy you all the cosplays you want,” he grunted, placing one of his large hands on your lower stomach to feel how his cock stretches you out and leaves a cute little protruding bulge through the fabric. “bunny, nurse, schoolgirl, whatever you want— i have all the money in the world.”

something about the thought of being dressed up for him whenever he comes home from saving the world made you flustered, all dolled up with makeup in new costumes, only for him to tear it all off and ruin it just like he was now. your lip gloss was all smudged and vanta could taste the strawberry on his own mouth, licking away the glittery artificial pink and rutting into your sweet spot until your vision was flickering with white.

all he does is look at you in pity when you’re getting your entire world rocked, adjusting your faux-fur ears back on your head and pressing another kiss to your cheek. the way your walls flutter around his cock and you let out little pitched moans, even cuter than a real bunny, is utterly addicting. neither of you are going to have a wink of sleep until morning comes if he continues at this rate, he might as well call headquarters that he’ll be late tomorrow in advance.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Do you think any of the OI characters could be convinced to put on a sexy nurse outfit, while taking care of their sick partner?

I am giggling! (I really tried not to just be like YES to all of them, but I am a weak, weak person.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Warnings: silliness, references to sexy times

Word Count: 465

_____________________________________

Steven: Giggles the whole time, and puts on a fantastically over the top accent to go with the new character he’s created. You have to kiss him to shut him up when he starts quoting Carry On, Doctor.

Marc: Will put on the outfit and make you take your medicine and go to sleep. “I’m taking care of you, so you feel better, why did you want something else?” Is a little shit about it until you beg him for kisses.

Jake: No sooner than the words are out of your mouth, he’s already scrambling to get changed. Nurse Lockley is here with medicine (his dick) and to take care of you (fuck your brains out if you’re up to it.) 

Nathan: Nathan ‘I’m not putting that fucking thing on’ Bateman. Getting all grumpy and muttering under his breath. The second you are out of the room though and (preferably) laying down, he’s knocking on the door in the most outrageous outfit you’ve ever seen and telling you he’s ‘been hired by Dr Bateman to take care of you’.

Anselm: You never have to even bring up the idea, because Anselm has already dressed up for you in a nurse’s outfit many times. (He has several for different occasions, but tends to prefer a custom made latex one that is skin tight and crotchless.) 

Cecil: Thinks the idea is hilarious and gets a little too into character. Tries to wear a pair of very high heels and you just about manage to convince him to take them off before he falls over and gives himself a concussion. 

Club!Blue: Doesn’t mind dressing up at all and is far too into it. (If a guard knocks on his office door, he will be answering it in full costume and with his cock out.)

Orderly!Blue: Please do not encourage this man. 

Jack: Has a disturbingly realistic outfit with blood stains that you do NOT want to ask where they came from. 

Santiago: Takes some convincing because it makes him feel a little self conscious, but he wants to try to not only cheer you up but also to get over some insecurities and he knows he’s safe with you.

Shimmer!Kane: Puts it on without a second thought, clothes are clothes, right? However he does like that it makes you happy. 

King John: Even though this is not historically time period accurate, I can’t help myself - he’s gonna fuck you in a plague doctor mask. I’m sorry.

Rydal: Will be a brat about it, because he wants you to spank him in the outfit.

Laurent: Starts going on about how he’s a ‘wet nurse’ and keeps shoving his boobs in your face.

Poe: As if this man doesn’t have 400 outfits on hand at all times.

_________________

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[visceral-reject]

Sedatives CHPT.2

A/N: Here bc crossposting my beloved

Blaring alarm and sunlight slipping through your blinds awoke you from what you’d considered a good sleep. Friday, the day you’d longed for for months it seemed, not because there’d be shitty slashers on a seemingly endless marathon due to it being the month of October, though that was a plus; but no, it was finally your day off. A day all to yourself and a night to hand out candy to doe-eyed children in differing costumes. Groggily sliding out of bed was a task, though your feet planting themselves onto your cold floor was more than a wake-up call. Your quarters were homey, and cozy. More than enough space for you and your cat, Cilantro. Speaking of the greedy feline, who mewed her greetings as she weaved between your legs as you made your way to the bathroom.

“You can wait Lantro, not like you’re gonna starve any time soon. “You yawned, stretching your arms as your back cracked. The cat, however, didn’t seem to agree with your sentiments in the slightest as she mewed louder, seemingly in response to you. You closed the door in the thing’s face in return. Your morning was everything but eventful, though watching your neighbor’s children chase each other around their yard with dollar store skeletons and spiders, which left a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, sipping on your morning brew with a content glaze within your eyes. Though boredom was beginning to seep through that feeling. Your laundry had been put on, dishes had been washed and put away, and just overall tidying had all been done within the span of a few hours. What now? You hadn’t planned this far ahead, not like medical school and internships gave you time to establish any friendships, and a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Besides, the scum that you worked aside left such a stain on your mind when it came to potential partners. Nurses, smoking and degrading the patients within the yellowing walls gave you looks of contempt and the doctor’s hands planted themselves onto your skin for a good many moments too long. Yeah…so no relationship prospects in sight for you. Catnapping and folding laundry made up most of your day, finding the hours slip through your fingers like fine sand. The dulling sky held many stars, blinking into the blanket of dusty oranges and desaturated blues. You, still donning a simple jumper and pajama pants you're sure you’d stolen from some childhood friend you’d long forgotten in your adult life, pity. Trekking towards the door, donning a thick knitted blanket and Cilantro in tow, you made your way to your rocking chair, an antique thing that could use a paint job, but you didn’t mind. Propping yourself upon the old chair, the wood creaking beneath you, sighed, watching your breath cling to the air. Though despite your day of relaxation, you still carried a weight on your shoulders. “Fucking hell…” you groaned, head thrown back with a displeased expression.

Night lurked within your walls, a heavy silence bearing over your domain as you tossed and turned, comfort fleeting from you, and time ticked by one second at a time. Poor sight you were, desperate for sleep to claim you, for relief to wash over you in a cool wave. You, sweaty and annoyed, threw your comforter away, allowing the cool air of your tiny room to chill your skin, a shitty fan doing little to aid. Thoughts floating back to your job, the patients, the assholes who worked your nerves to no end…Michael. Your breath hitched as you began to think the patient over. How the veins in his hands flexed as he steadily layered paper and glued to form a face. How his eyes followed doctors and nurses, in a way you could only be akin to a predator stalking its prey. Intense. Calculating. Your fingers buried themselves in your soaked hole, your moans echoing off the walls as you brought yourself to the edge. Your back arched as your vision whitened, whimpers rolling out of your throat, riding out your height. It was easy to imagine it was Michael bringing you past this edge; how easy it was to imagine it was his rough fingers dragging down your body, toying with your clit. Attempting to steady your shaking breaths and legs was no easy feat. You stared at the ceiling, sweat clinging to your body as the thoughts of Michael dissipated, the reality of just how taboo this was finally setting in. He was your patient not your patient, but still! A sigh escaped your lips as you rolled onto your side with a wince, your muscles aching as you attempted to find some escape from your sleep.

October 29

Your uniform felt tight, almost suffocating as you placed the small plastic cups of pills in front of patients. You felt pity for them, abandoned and left to rot within the confines of the state, drugged up to a compliant lucid state. Their blank, watery eyes left you feeling hollow every time you turned your back on them after administrating their daily medication alongside the mush the penitentiary called food. It was fucking sick how they treated these mentally unwell people that needed help above all else.

But today, today was different.

Today you felt watched, more than usual. One could akin this to the feelings prey has before the predator strikes, but who was your predator? You shook your head, instinctively wiping your hands upon your dark scrubs, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you approached the behemoth of a man that you’ve affectionately dubbed your ‘favorite patient’.

Michael Myers was quiet, always. His face was always covered with a mask, if not the mop of messy blondish hair. Despite his silence, you found it rather easy to read him, perhaps it was due to the fair amount of time you’d spent tailing after Dr. Loomis, half-heartedly acknowledging his rambles about Michael that you didn’t believe. It was odd, you, a mere 2 years younger than he was, and two completely different people. Sometimes, between shifts or hiding with the smokers out back, you’d think about what life for Michael would’ve been like if life had been kinder, softer. A childhood filled with joy, love, and comfort is what every child deserves in your mind. You don’t think Michael was born a monster, but one born of circumstance. Squeaky cartwheels echo throughout this part of the rec room. Patients and staff alike avoided the very space Michael inhabited, for fear of becoming victims of the Boogeyman of Haddonfield. You, however, were either stupid or brave, and right now you didn’t quite know which one was worse. Michael sat slump, his head hanging low, though you could see his neck jerk in your direction as you approached. “Morning, Michael! “You chirped, gently sliding the plastic cup of assorted medicine to the man. He was quiet, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before slowly reaching for his dailies. You faced the wall as he downed them. You began to wonder what his face looked like; you’d seen his face in files. When he was a boy, his cheeks were rosy, and round, and his eyes still clung to some semblance of childhood innocence. You tried to picture him grown. Perhaps his face was made of nothing of right angles, maybe he looked like his mother? Questions ran through your head as Michael placed the cup down. It made you want to gag knowing he always downed his dailies without water, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Water was readily available. Ever the gentle creature you were, Michael watched as you sat across from him, folding your hands in your lap. You tried not to stare, honestly you didn’t, but there was something about him that made you just want to...stare. His hands were large and calloused from the years of nimble working of paper machete masks that donned his cell walls. It was the same hands that killed his sister at the age of 10. The same hands you’d fantasied about the night before.

He remained stoic, eyes finally meeting your face. It felt as if he was searching for something, a hint of malice or pity. He’d find none within your feature, nothing more than a genuine want to know something about him. Michael found you pretty enough, kinder than the nurses and doctors and specialists that buzzed around him like an annoying fly, poking and prodding with annoying tests and needles and a constantly changing dose of medicine that left him feeling ill. You, however, never buzzed. You may have lingered a tad bit longer than was necessary, but it was never in a pestering way. He’d notice how your hands toyed with the hem of your scrubs. They were always dark in color, but never stark black. Muted maroons and soft navies were your usual attire, something Michael found himself fond of.

You were simple. Not easy but you stuck to a schedule.

Michael liked that about you. He almost found himself longing to touch you, to feel you as you rose and walked away. A heavy metal door slammed behind you. It was decided in his mind then and there that you were his. The Boogeyman of Haddonfield wanted you for himself.

October 30

Smith’s Grove had befallen silent for the night, strangely enough. Everyone seemed tense, on edge as every little creak and crack was greeted with a jump. How odd people acted, you thought, making mental notes on what you needed to do before clocking out. It was already a quarter till 4 PM, and the ending of your shift never made you as happy as it is now. You practically skipped through the halls, ready to finally leave Michael with his usual goodbye before your departure. His cell neared, and the heavy scent of wet paper and Elmer’s glue lingered the closer you got.

You knocked, knuckles brushing against the reinforced doors as you entered the cell. Masks hung from the walls like hunting trophies, and one could only wonder how Michael found the creativity to even create such pretty things within his conditions. You’d hum, continuing to eye the brightly colored masks with your arms folded across your chest. You knew not to touch them; it was basic respect after all. Your constant lingering seemed to pay off though, as you nearly squealed when Michael offered a quiet ‘mmh’ in greeting. Sure, it may not seem like something much, but anyone who worked with the behemoth of a man would tell you, that Michael Myers does NOT do anything except eat, sleep, and make those masks; but with you, it was like he was a different entity all together. He was calmer, in your easy. The weight that he clung to within his shoulders seemed to lessen. You both sat quietly, content in each other's company. It was when your watch chimed that Michael stiffened, breathing heavily through his nose whilst you rose, offering a weak smile as you trekked towards the door, promising you’d see him tomorrow, you promised!

[mooniiify]

emergency contact — bakugo katsuki

quirk: super sonic/speed; hero name: sonic

disclaimer: using the established hero identity from my bakugo fic on wattpad lol

contents: second chance, pro heroes in their twenties

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

her whole body hurt, that was the first thing she realized when she started gaining consciousness. her eyelids felt heavy, but she willed them to open, only for her to wince and close them back immediately as a harsh light hit her eyes.

it took her a moment. she took a breath. there was a soft beeping in the background. where was she? slowly, she fluttered her eyes open again, squinting until she got used to the light. she looked around, taking in the white walls and the IV drip stand next to her.

hospital. oh.

what had happened again? she remembered the villain attack in musutafu — she’d been called in, and kirishima, mina and todorki had been at the scene, too. the villain was preaching about the downfall of heroes as usual. she didn’t remember much of the fight, except getting hit really badly in the back of the head at some point.

with her left arm, she reached up and touched the side of her head, feeling the bandages.

she sighed and let her arm fall back down next to her. she looked to the side, noticing the red button that would call the nurse. this wasn’t the first time she’d been in a hospital bed like that and it wouldn’t be the last. she knew the drill by now — she pressed the button and waited.

a nurse walked in soon after, a smile on her face. y/n recognized her from the last few times she’s been here. “oh, glad to see you’re awake, sonic! how are you feeling?”

“mostly fine,” y/n answered. “how bad was the damage this time?”

“concussion, a broken leg due to debris falling over it. some scratches and bruises, but that’s about it,” the nurse read off of her clipboard. “everything was already taken care of and healed. we should be able to discharge you by the end of the day, but you should take it easy when you get home.”

y/n nodded. “that’s good. thank you.”

the nurse nodded before she wrote something on her clipboard. “are you feeling okay for visitors?”

y/n furrowed her eyebrows at that. “visitors?” who could it be? maybe kirishima or mina decided to visit. how did they get out of the fight, anyway? and how did y/n pass out? so embarrassing!

“well, mr. dynamight—“

“mr. who?”

no. this couldn’t be. why would he be here?

“mr. dynamight. bakugo katsuki?” the nurse scratched her head. “i thought you two were friends. or at least classmates back in ua.”

friends. yeah, no. “we were. don’t let him in.”

the nurse nodded and reached for the door. “all right. i’ll let him know.”

y/n sighed and looked back up at the white ceiling. seriously, why the hell was he here? how did he know she’d gotten hurt? okay, maybe he’d heard it from kirishima or seen it on the news, but still! how did he know which hospital she was at?

“tch, she’s still tired and doesn’t know what she’s talkin’ about.” y/n’s blood ran cold at the familiar voice coming from beyond the door. “i’m going in.”

“mr. dynamight, sir—“

the nurse couldn’t stop him. the door opened and in walked bakugo katsuki, still dressed in his hero costume, bar his mask and gauntlets.

the nurse immediately looked at y/n. “i’m sorry, miss sonic, i—“

“it’s okay.” it wasn’t the nurse’s fault. it was bakugo’s annoying stubbornness, as usual.

the nurse apologized again, then excused herself and left. bakugo moved silently from the door to the left of her bed, his arms crossed in from of his chest. “how are ya—“

“the fuck are you doing here, bakugo?”

bakugo’s lips shut in an instant. he looked to the IV drip in her arm, then to her heartbeat monitor — it was beeping a bit quicker now — then back to her. “the hospital called. told me you were injured.”

y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. “the hospital called you? why the hell would they? are you stalking me or something?”

bakugo grunted. “tch, speedy, you didn’t change your shitty emergency contact. you set it to me years ago, remember?”

right. “oh.”

“yeah.”

y/n looked away from him and out through the window. her view was obscured by a tree, but it was better than looking at bakugo at the moment. “why did you come, then?”

there was a sound of metal scraping on the ground. startled, y/n looked back and noticed bakugo pulling up a chair to sit next to her. it looked small under him. it was funny, but she didn’t laugh.”

“‘cuz they called me and told me you were injured.” bakugo said as he leaned on his knees. “and i saw the news. i was worried.”

y/n sighed. “bakugo, we—“

“stop calling me bakugo. you know i hate it when you call me by my last name.”

“bakugo.” she gave him a stern look. “we broke up three months ago.”

bakugo was silent. to this day, even after having calmed down, it was still weird to see bakugo this silent. “i know.”

“then you can’t expect me to act fucking normal and call you by your first name just because you decided to come to the hospital because you were worried about your ex.”

“i fuckin’ know.” bakugo groaned, running a hand through his hair.

they sat in silence for a moment and y/n’s unfocused eyes watched him as he looked at the ground. they dated for five years before they broke up. from their first year at ua, up until a few months ago. it was understandable bakugo was acting like that, really.

“do you ever think we made a mistake?”

y/n’s eyes focused and his face became clearer out of shock. she opened her mouth to answer than, no, she didn’t think so, but closed it. after thinking for a moment, she nodded. “at least once a day.”

their break up hadn’t really been spontaneous. it was building up the busier they got, and at the end, they reached the mutual decision to part ways. they were stubborn, both of them fighting for the top spots in the hero rankings, so much so that they forgot about each other. it made sense, back then.

but now, as y/n returned to the same home she’d shared with bakugo every night to a now cold, empty apartment, she was starting to think how being a top hero was just so lonely.

bakugo nodded at her answer. “yeah. me too.”

y/n moved to sit up, wincing a little as she did. despite the healing, he ribs were still sore. bakugo instinctively moved, one hand going behind her back to help her up. “careful, speedy.”

“i’m fine. they’re discharging me later, anyway,” y/n explained.

bakugo nodded, his hand lingering on her back for a moment too long before he retracted it and sat back on his chair. he ran a gloved hand through his hair. “you know, i really fuckin’ miss you, speedy.”

her heart monitor beeped faster at the words and she felt her face warm up in embarrassment. bakugo had just heard how flustered he made her — there was no backing out now.

still, she didn’t look at him. she looked at her fingers that were playing with each other. “yeah, i miss you, too, katsuki.”

bakugo’s hand reached out, catching one of hers in his. she looked back at him again, at his soft, pleading face. “can we try again? we’ve been through so much shit together and, honestly, before we broke up, i never imagined my life without you in it. but now that i actually experienced it, i realized just how shitty it is. being a hero is so fucking boring if you’re not there to run by work just to tell me a dumb joke, or to sit on the couch and watch the news and make fun of shitty hair and raccoon eyes, or bantering over who’s going to be higher in the next hero chart, or—“

she’d heard enough. leaning in, she pressed her lips on his, her hands grabbing the sides of his face. the IV drip in her arm felt uncomfortable, but she ignored it best she could as she savored bakugo’s lips, the ones she’s been missing for so long.

bakugo moved his hand to the back of her head, the other one on her back. he didn’t really pull her too close because he was scared she would fall off the bed, but he didn’t mind. the fact that she was kissing him was enough.

they pulled away not too long after — it didn’t matter that the kiss was short, there was so many more to come — and y/n smiled as she looked into his red eyes. her right thumb stroked his cheek ever so slightly. “you know, i’m higher in the rankings than you this month. i’m twenty-fourth and you’re twenty-sixth.”

bakugo chuckled, his smile unwavering. “shut up, i saw. i wanted to call you and rant to you about it. that’s only ‘cuz i had to take a week-long break after i got injured.”

y/n waved him off. “excuses, excuses. just admit i’m strong.”

“never denied it, speedy.”

y/n felt warm again. it felt so right, being with bakugo and talking with him like that. she hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed it.

“i don’t know if this is sudden, but are you going to move back in now, or are you gonna wait and see how this goes? not that i’m pressuring you or anything, i just—“

bakugo interrupted her with a peck, sealing her lips shut. when he pulled back, he gave her a nod. “i’ll move back today if i can. i’ll call shitty hair to help me with my shit. hell, i missed the bed.”

[seungkw1]

halloween night — ksy

⛧ pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader ⛧ theme: strangers to lovers, nonidol!au ⛧ word count: ~2.5k ⛧ warnings: smut, swearing, praise kink, oral (m. & f. receiving), softdom!hoshi, petnames (f. receiving - baby, pretty girl, etc.), unprotected penetration (stay safe kids), tiny bit of fluff at the end

your halloween night is going pretty lousy — that is, until you meet a handsome, tiger-print-wearing stranger at a party

♡ moodboard by @myhimbomingi ♡

≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡

“You look fine. Stop worrying, you’re gonna have a good time tonight!”

You stop fiddling with your skirt and look up at your best friend with a sigh. ”I can’t believe you talked me into wearing this stupid thing.”

Halloween is, in your humble opinion, the greatest holiday ever invented. You always love putting together your costume, something unique and creative each year – which is why you feel like a fucking idiot standing here dressed in a cliché sexy nurse costume. But, you needed to get your shitty ex off your mind – it had been two weeks since you found out he was cheating on you – and what better distraction than alcohol. Hell, you might even find someone to make out with if you drink enough. Not your usual M.O., but fuck it.

Now that you’re here though, you’re starting to have second thoughts. Your best friend Mina is bubbly and sociable, so she thrives naturally in a party environment – you, not so much. To make matters worse she’s the only person you’ll know here, so you’re now realizing how awkward this whole thing is going to be. Wishing now that you had worn something more comfortable, you slap on a fake smile as you step inside. Here goes nothing, I guess.

—

Mina spent about 15 minutes introducing you to everybody as you did your best to engage in polite small talk, but she eventually got absorbed in chatting with some old friends while you inadvertently joined a very boring conversation with some cryptocurrency bros where some guy named Chad or something was going on about bitcoin. You pretended to be interested in whatever Brad was saying, but you kept zoning out. Stifling a sigh, you went to make your escape. 

“I’m gonna use the restroom, I'll be right…”

Nobody even looked at you. Brent had moved on talking about stocks or some shit. You rolled your eyes as you walked away. Assholes.

The other room was too crowded for your liking, and so was the kitchen. Spotting the back door, you quickly made your way outside before anyone else could talk to you. 

—

The cool October breeze hits you as you practically burst through the door and out onto the patio. You know you’ll probably get chilled before too long, especially in this dumb miniskirt, but the crisp air feels delightful. The relative quietness is a relief too. Taking a few moments to breathe, you start to relax, but soon enough your mind drifts back to your ex against your will. It’s not like you miss him – you’re definitely over that jerk – but you’re still extremely pissed off about the whole thing. You feel tears starting to form as the anger wells up inside you – you hate that you cry when you get mad, which only makes you even more upset. 

“God fucking dammit,” you mutter under your breath as you go to wipe your tears away before you start full-on crying. You know bottling up your emotions isn’t ideal, but neither is having a breakdown at some stranger’s house.

You can have your breakdown later, you tell yourself firmly. Just not right now. Don’t make a fool of yourself, just hold on out for a couple more hours and then-

“Are you okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice coming from behind you. Quickly turning around, you find yourself face-to-face with a ridiculously handsome stranger. The man is so striking it takes you a few seconds to process the horribly tacky, bright orange tiger-print shirt he’s wearing.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me,” you say as you collect yourself.

“I- sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he says, his sentence trailing off.

You both stand there for a moment in silence. You find yourself trying not to blush at how good-looking he is, but you notice him noticing your low-cut top but trying to act like he didn’t notice it. Yeah, that is not helping…

The man clears his throat. “You just seemed like you were crying or something and uh… sorry, I guess that’s not really any of my business…” he apologizes, turning red. “Sorry,” he repeats, “I’ll leave you be…”

“No no it’s okay!!” you blurt out, perhaps a bit too fast. “I mean, you can stay, I don't mind.”

“Are you sure? If you want to be alon-”

“No, I don’t,” you interrupt before he goes to turn away again. “I mean, I did originally, but uh…”

What are you doing?? You literally don’t even know this man.

You ignore the voice inside your head. Fuck it, didn’t I say I wanted to find a hot stranger to make out with tonight? Here’s one right in front of me.

You introduce yourself and stick out your hand. His face turns into a soft smile as he takes your hand in his – he shakes it firmly, and you try not to think about how strong he feels. He locks eyes with you and holds on to your hand for a few moments too long. Your heart seems to skip a beat. 

“Soonyoung,” he replies. Letting out an even bigger grin, he finally lets go of your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

—

You don’t even know how long you two have been sitting on the patio couch talking. All you know is that not only is Soonyoung incredibly handsome, he’s also funny, charming, and easy to talk to – and, he’s clearly very attracted to you. Usually it takes a number of drinks before you get flirty, but the tension between you two is too strong to resist. It’s taking all of your willpower not to drop everything and kiss him – and the way he keeps stealing quick glances of your lips tells you the feeling is reciprocated. 

Despite how flustered you are, it is pretty chilly out, and eventually you start to shiver. Soonyoung notices and gives you a concerned look.

“Oh shit, we should probably get you inside.”

You glance back toward the chatter of the house party regretfully, not wanting to go back in and be amongst everybody else once again. But you are getting cold.

You look back to Soonyoung and you both sit there in silence for a few seconds. A sly smile creeps back onto his face, and he hesitates for a moment before suggesting, “Or… we could get out of here.”

You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

And so you find yourself on Soonyoung’s couch, straddling his lap, making out with him – the cheesy horror movie you had put on in the background long forgotten. Time seems to be at a standstill as you press your lips into his – softly at first, but more intensely with each kiss. His muscular arms tighten around your waist, pulling your body even closer to his, and a small moan escapes you as he pushes his hips into your core. 

Soonyoung stops kissing you momentarily so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

His low and raspy voice sends a jolt through your stomach. Your skirt has risen up over your hips, leaving your underwear as the only barrier between your pussy and the growing bulge in his jeans – you push yourself into him even further and this time he lets out a moan as you feel his cock twitch against your aching cunt.

Grabbing onto your waist he pushes you over onto the couch and rolls over on top of you. He kisses you again, his hand cradling your face, his body weight pressing down on you as you feel the blood rushing through your veins. He kisses you for a few moments more before he jumps up, pulling you along as he leads you into his bedroom. 

He stops right before the bed and pauses to look at you, his hand delicately tracing your neckline. “You know, I really like this costume, but I think I’d like it more off of you.”

You let out a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. You begin to unbutton his shirt as you reply, “Well I don’t really like it at all, so you can definitely help me get rid of it.”

He grins back at you. “You look incredible, but I will happily oblige.”

Grabbing the hem of your top, Soonyoung pulls it up over your head and tosses it behind him. He pulls his shirt off too, disregarding the rest of the buttons, and you have to keep your jaw from hitting the floor – to say he was toned would’ve been an understatement. 

He grabs you by the arms to pull you in for another kiss, and you place your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. You slowly run one hand down the defined curvatures of his abs until you reach the waist of his pants. Your lips still pressed against his, you begin to undo his belt and unbutton his pants.

Getting down as you undo the zipper, you pull down the band of his underwear and his cock springs free. You run your tongue up his length, your mouth stopping to take just the tip in between your lips as you taste his juices before taking him in your mouth. Soonyoung lets out a groan, and you begin to slide his cock down your throat – slowly at first, but as you begin to pick up the pace he places his hand on the back of your head, making sure you take his entire length with each motion.

“Look at me,” he commands.

You look up at him, his cock halfway in your mouth still, your lips red and your eyes teary from choking on him.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice gruff and low.

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before he pulls your head back up, his cock glistening with your spit. 

“Stand up for me.”

You quickly stand up – it’s impossible to ignore how wet you are at this point.

Soonyoung takes you by the hips and gently pushes you down onto the bed. “Get comfy baby.”

You rest your head against the pillows as he situates himself between your legs. He lifts your skirt up just enough to reveal your visibly soaked underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re already this wet for me huh?” he says he starts kissing your inner thighs, close enough to your entrance to make your clit throb but just far away enough to drive you crazy.

He teases you with one finger tracing over your clothed cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. Not giving what you want just yet, he reaches his hand behind your back and unclasps your bra, taking it off of you. 

“God, you’re so hot,” he says as he begins to kiss your breasts. You let out a small whimper as his hand makes its way back down to your clit, his thumb circling over the fabric gently.

Finally, he reaches his hands under your skirt and slides your panties off, his face resuming its position right in front of your cunt. You let out a hiss as his tongue makes a stripe over your folds, slowly taking in your wetness – you cry out suddenly as he begins to suck on your clit. 

Soonyoung goes down on you for what feels like an eternity, only stopping here and there to shower you in admiration.

“You taste so good, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Pussy so pretty for me.”

Just as you feel the heat welling up inside your body, he slides his fingers inside of you. The vibrations of his mouth moaning on your clit combined with the pressure against your g-spot nearly sends you over the edge.

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum…” you cry.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Your orgasm rushes over you as you grab him by the hair, cumming hard on his mouth. Out of breath and seeing stars, you start to come down and your body relaxes into the bed – you run your hand through his hair as he delicately kisses your soaked pussy, his mouth and chin covered in your juices.

Soonyoung comes up to give you a few soft kisses on the lips. Wrapping your arms around his back, you pull his warm body into yours. His erection presses up against your still-throbbing core – you try to position your entrance right on top of his cock but he teasingly pulls away and starts kissing your neck instead. 

“Please Soonyoung,” you beg.

“Please what baby? I wanna hear you say it.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you on the neck once more before slipping his cock inside you, making you gasp at the sudden sensation.

“Mmm I made you so wet baby, you’re so perfect for me.”

He slowly starts sliding his length in and out of you, but before long you find yourself trying to ride his cock, trying to make him go faster – which only makes him slow down even more. He smirks, locking eyes with you – undeniably addicted to how much you need him.

“Such a little slut, you want me to fuck you harder?”

You nod, looking up at him – desperation in your eyes.

“Use your words baby.”

“Harder,” you plead.

“That’s my good girl.”

Soonyoung thrusts into you, picking up the pace this time, until he’s fucking you senseless. Your cries fill the room from the overwhelming pleasure, and much to his enjoyment you start to whimper out his name. 

“That’s right – say my name babygirl.”

You repeat his name as every inch of him continues to pulse into you, stronger with each stroke. 

“You’re taking me so well. My cock so good to you baby?”

You cry out something, presumably some form of yes, but you don���t even know at this point. You feel yourself start to climax once more. 

“Fuck, Soonyoung – I’m gonna cum again.”

“Cum with me, pretty girl.”

Electricity rushes over your entire body as your walls tighten around him, and you feel his cock pulsating as his cum fills you up inside. You both lay there for a few moments, his strong arms wrapping around you as you breathe heavily together. He slowly removes himself from you and rolls over to pull you into an embrace – him as the big spoon. You giggle as he holds you tightly and gives you little kisses on your cheek. 

“You know,” you admit, “I didn’t even want to go to that stupid party.”

Soonyoung laughs. “Well, I’m sure glad you did.”

“I am too,” you say as you begin to yawn. You are completely worn out in the best way possible.

He nuzzles into your neck, clearly also getting sleepy. He pauses a moment before he asks.

“Stay here with me?”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay,” you reply softly. 

You drift off to sleep in Soonyoung’s arms – blissful and content.

[end]

you can also find me on ao3 ♡

[spookyvszombiesau]

Lore!

In this world, a sudden Zombie apocalypse shaked everyones lifes, forcing them to close down their little city and defending themselves the best they could! A ray of hope brightened their lifes when they found it, the first Plant. They quickly surrounded themselves with these strange criatures that they grew attached to, finding they made good pets/friends besides protecting them. They required a special care however, and this is how the Gardeners came to be.

The Gardeners are people who dedicate their life to taking care of the plants, most of them focus on one species of plant. We have:

John, who takes care of the most normal kind of plants. (peashooters, wallnuts, squash, things like that.) Gregor, who takes care of the water plants (Lilypads and and tangle kelps, mostly.)

Candy dealer, who takes care of the mushrooms (CUZ ITS SO FUCKING FUNNY AND IT FITS WELL- uh, ahem. He takes care of plants like the puff-shroom, fume-shroom and scaredy-shroom.)

Jaune, who takes care of sunflowers, twin sunflowers and sunshrooms (she makes sure that all the plants are healthy and have lots of sun,the sun in this au is kind of both food and money, but just the plant sun cuz the SUN sun its still just there)

AND Rick who grows upgrade plants, he sells them, since only he and streber know how to grow them he takes ADVANTAGE of it. hes smart like that. (Upgrade plants are like gatling pea, twin sunflower, cattail, frozen melon, etc..)

These guys are one of the most important people in the colony, so they often get bodyguard plants (body guard plants are plants that are capable of moving, like in PVZGW) they are also the firsts to escape if anything bad happens since not everyone can be a gardener. Radford is in training for this, helping John to take care of plants.

Theres also The Scavengers, they go out of the colony (that is all closed from the rest of the world with a wall, not a very sturdy one so they get zombies inside often) and just gather stuff like medicine, survivors, or new plants.

The Scavengers are:

Frank, the leader. His van has been of great help with transporting from one side to other.

Fat and Thin thief, who serve of assistance and are usually the ones to attack in case anything happens.

And Costume guy, who is. there. complaining.

Aaron sometimes joins them, but its something that dosnt happen often. He tends to take the leader position whenever he goes along.

Scavengers use mostly instant kill plants instead of the normal plants, this is because its easier to kill a bunch of zombies at once instead of planning, preparing and taking other plants and strategies with them.

Then The Fighters, they are the ones that take the role of the player. They use the plants and make sure everyone is safe, second highest rank in their little society. Fighters need to be smart enough to know what to do, and also be quick to think.

The Fighters are:

Dexter and Streber, they team up at night to protect the colony while everyone else is asleep, using mostly mushrooms to attack.

Aaron, he usually attacks from far away or in the roofs, using mostly catapults.

Jack, he uses pretty common plants and takes most of the day time.

Ignacio makes sure all water surrounding or in the colony are zombie free, so you will see him walking around a lot.

The hatzgang is in training, sometimes joining any other fighter character while they try to help.

Then theres The Nurses, they are just nurses!

Mort and Michelle, Lucky is in training.

Kevin and Actress take care of the kids, they are Babysitters. I thought it would be funny to make them run around everywhere trying to avoid skid n pump from getting into trouble! they take care of skid, pump, lucky and radford's sister.

Then theres The Cooks, Mr Wonder, Actor and Bob. They make sure the colony is well fed at all times.

There are more jobs, but these are very specific to one character so i will talk about them when i post refs. Thanks for reading!

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Usual Trouble

Characters: Reader x Jason Todd (platonic)

Warnings: Language

Summary: You come back home to a wrecked mansion and an injured Robin.

You pushed the wide, heavy manor doors and wondered why Bruce hadn’t parked his car under the trees like agreed. Then you remembered that the man was off in Metropolis helping Clark and wouldn’t be back for a few days. Tossing the keys onto the hallway table, you smiled - the manor was yours.

Once you had brought in all the groceries, you locked up and then carried the bags to the kitchen. You unloaded the items that needed the cool temperature of the refrigerator but took a tub of the Neapolitan ice-cream. Packing it in another bag, you grabbed two spoons and walked towards Bruce’s study. On the way, you noticed the Ducati laying on its side by the stairs that led to the cellar and fresh set of scratches on its paint and the wall.

Leave it to Jason to stunt his way through the house while you were out running errands. Opening the secret entrance behind the grandfather clock, you made your way down to the Batcave, elevator doors sliding open.

“You know, Bruce asked me to have a chat with you about the Ducati in the house.” You told Jason as you walked. “But I stopped listening when he started listing why.”

You had almost reached the console when you noticed the dark-haired boy leaning against a pillar dressed in his vigilante costume, bloodied, bruised and exhausted. You quickly set the bag down and jogged over to find out what had happened.

“Shit - Jason, what have you done?” You whispered and began the process to assess the damage. He wasn’t supposed to be out in the field unless you or Bruce were informed. The fact that he didn’t listen pissed you off. “What were you thinking?”

Jason chuckled and then winced. “I thought I handled him well.”

You glared at him for a second before pulling a chair for him to sit on. “You’re broken in about four places.” Lifting his hair gently, you shook your head. “And probably concussed. Who did this?”

Averting his eyes to the floor, Jason made his confession. “The Riddler.” But when he saw your eyes widen, he rushed to explain himself. “He almost broke out of Arkham so I shoved his riddling ass back inside. I saved people I should be fucking thanked.”

Sighing, you glanced at the Batcave console. “Wait here.” You instructed and briefly left his side to retrieve the first aid kit. When you returned, you pulled up a second chair and sat opposite him, looking at his injuries again. “Okay, one thing at a time.”

Carefully, you nursed the young Robin back to health and tended to the open wounds. It had gotten awfully quiet for a long time until Jason finally asked the question that was plaguing his mind.

“Are you mad?”

It asked so gently that you wondered if the same hot-headed boy was sitting before you. Shaking your head, you set the tweezers down on the metal tray after extracting the bullet.

“No.”

“Then why did you freak out?” Jason asked defensively.

“Because I worry every time you go out on your own.”

“Why - because you think that I’m weak? That I can’t handle myself out there?” The young boy started to yell and you saw his temper flare up. 

In moments like these, you stayed silent until he simmered down in his own time. It didn’t take long for Jason to realise that his tone was out of line and his muscles relaxed, breathing evening out. He didn’t apologise and you didn’t expect one, letting him steer the conversation elsewhere.

“I heard Bruce yelling at you yesterday.” He resumed softly. “After you mentioned my idea to visit Dick in San Francisco.”

You picked up a cloth bandage and began unwrapping it. “He’s always pissed about something.”

“Why back me up? You know every reason why I shouldn’t go.”

You looked up. Despite being beaten by one of Gotham’s most cruel, Jason’s eyes still shone with something special. Placing a hand on his cheek, you tilted your head and sent him a small smile.

“The way that I see it is, if Robin is always out there defending the city then who’s defending Jason?” You questioned.

You were just speaking your truth when, quite suddenly, the young Robin leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in a hug that only got tighter by the second.

Jason gripped the back of your jacket. “All I do is fuck things up.” He said, voice on the verge of tears.

You hugged him a little bit tighter. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t care.”

Masterlist here

[meiliarotten]

Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 17: Hello Nurse! (Uniforms)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Medic x Fem!Reader

Summary: Medic is quite taken with your costume for a Halloween party.

Tags: Uniforms, sexy Halloween costumes, semi-clothed

Word Count: 1.5k

The Masterlist

“I look ridiculous!”

A privacy curtain was situated in the corner of the infirmary, creating a makeshift changing room, and honestly, you would be content to hide away behind that curtain forever. Or at least until you could change into something less revealing. It was just a silly little party. No one would judge if you abandoned this costume and showed up in a Halloween themed t-shirt and jeans.

“Don’t be so modest, liebchen! I’m sure you look wonderful.” Medic tried his best to reassure you from the other side of the curtain, but you were still reluctant to let him see you like this.

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

“I promise, now come on out. We’re going to be late,” Medic said. He sounded genuine, so you took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the medical screen.

You had donned a nurse uniform with red accents along the sleeves and collar, and it was quite a low cut collar. You had found the costume in a store a few days ago, and while you had initially scoffed at the sight of it, you found yourself drawn back to it repeatedly. Finally, you decided to get it, figuring that it would make for a cute couples costume.

Unfortunately, buyers' remorse began to set in before you even had the outfit fully on. Even now you were instinctively trying to pull the excessively short skirt lower. It barely covered your ass, and you had actually begun to wonder if you purchased a size that was too small. Apparently not. Based on the way the model on the package looked, this was just how the costume was designed.

To top it all off, a garter was wrapped snug around your thigh, bearing the same red and white color scheme as the rest of the outfit. The garter had a little charm with a symbol similar to Medic’s own insignia. A nurse’s cap and prop stethoscope also came with the outfit, but you had left those behind, ultimately deciding that they were a bit much. You nearly tripped as you stepped forward, unused to the tall white heels that you were wearing.

“On second thought, I wouldn’t blame you if you laughed at me,” you sighed, meeting his eyes with an expression that probably looked absolutely pitiful.

“Oh darling,” Medic whispered, placing a hand over his mouth. Unable to see his expression clearly, you assumed it was a negative reaction. You couldn’t see the blush rising in his cheeks.

“Fuck it, I’m taking it off,” you said with a huff. “I don’t need a costume that badly.”

“Nein, darling, wait!” Medic’s tone almost sounded panicked, and it made you stop short. Again, you almost rolled your ankle in those damn heels.

“What? Why?” You asked, turning to look at him with a confused tilt of your head.

Medic held up a hand, a gesture that asked you to give him a moment. He looked you up and down in a manner you could only describe as an examination. It made you a bit nervous, but as you watched him, you noticed his gaze lingering on certain parts of your body- your thighs, your breasts, oh he was definitely enjoying how low that neckline was. He wasn’t examining, he was admiring.

“Medic?” You whispered, suddenly anxious to know what he’s thinking.

“Mein gott,” he muttered, almost as if speaking to himself. A smirk spread across his face when he met your gaze. It sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Medic?” You said a bit more firmly, repeating yourself as he approached you. An arm was wrapped around your waist and you laughed nervously as you were pulled against his body, starting to get an idea of where exactly this was going. “What are you doing?”

Rather than respond immediately, Medic leaned into your neck, pressing a ghost-like kiss there that sent yet another shiver through your body. His mouth was right next to your ear when he finally spoke, his breath tickling your skin as he did.

“Meine liebe, what would you say if I told you I would very much like to ravish you on the operating table right now?”

“I would say we’re gonna be late.” You grabbed the suspenders on Medic’s uniform, pulling him down roughly for a kiss. “So we better be quick.”

The wicked laugh you got in response aroused you far more than you thought it would. He wasted no time pressing his lips against yours again, slipping his tongue into your mouth and dominating the kiss. He tried to guide you backwards towards the table, but you stumbled on your heels once again, breaking the kiss with a yelp.

His response was effective and efficient. Leaning down, he lifted you up into his arms, carrying you over to the operating table with your legs wrapped around his waist. He took full advantage of the situation, his hands being in the perfect position to support your weight and squeeze your ass.

You gasped when you were placed on the table, shivering at the cold metal. Your skirt had ridden up, and before long Medic was hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your underwear, pulling them off and exposing just how soaked you were.

“Already so wet, little nurse?” He asked. You grinned at the sound of that new nickname. Medic ran a still gloved finger along your slit, drawing a soft moan from you. “You look so gorgeous, mein gutes mädchen.”

“Medic- oh fuck! Medic!” You weren’t able to contain your moans as he began to rub circles around your clit. “Please, fuck me!”

“So eager,” Medic said, reaching up with his free hand and unbuttoning the uniform until your chest was exposed. You weren’t wearing a bra. It proved difficult to find one that worked with the outfit, and you figured the costume was tight enough to keep everything in place. Medic stopped stimulating your clit, pausing to unfasten his belt and unzip his fly. Soon, he had his hands placed on either side of you as he leaned over your body. You felt his erection prodding between your legs, and it only made you more desperate.

“Please!” You whined, looking up at him with a pleading, lust clouded expression.

“My sweet little nurse… du siehst so wunderschön aus. How could I resist?” With that, he finally entered you, pushing in to the hilt easily due to how aroused you were. You moaned and rocked your hips against his, eager for more.

Medic shuddered, relishing the warmth of you wrapped so tightly around him. When he regained his composure somewhat, he began to move, setting a fast rhythm. Delicious noises fell from your lips as you were rutted against the table. The only sounds echoing in the infirmary were your pleading moans and the metallic creaking of the surface below you.

“Harder, please Medic!” You begged, clutching desperately at his jacket. He was more than willing to comply. Medic’s hands traveled to your legs, lifting them and wrapping them around his waist again. You held your legs there as he drove into you, those powerful hips slamming roughly against yours and making you see stars. He seemed to hit just the right spots within you, and you felt the pleasure begin to build.

“Mein schönes Mädchen. Du bist so gut für mich,” Medic groaned, slipping into his native language as he often did during such passionate moments. “I want you to come for me. Bitte liebling, komm für mich!”

You did just that, coming with a strangled cry, clutching onto his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself on whatever was within reach. Coupled with his harsh thrusts, it almost seemed as if his words alone sent you tumbling into a positively helpless climax.

Medic only managed to hold out a few moments longer than you, coming with a few more desperate thrusts. He shuddered against your body as he did so. His final moans as he let pleasure overtake him were music to your ears.

He pressed soothing kisses across your body as the two of you basked in the afterglow. Apparently neither of you remembered that this was supposed to be a quick affair, or perhaps neither of you cared. When Medic pulled away and you finally looked up at him, you were startled to see red smeared across his lips.

“Oh shit, my makeup!” You said, dissolving into raucous laughter as you realized what had happened. Caught up in the frenzied passion, you had completely forgotten the red lipstick you had applied to go with your costume. Medic couldn’t help but chuckle as well, the post orgasmic euphoria making the whole situation seem far funnier than it was.

“There’s no way we’re going to be on time for that party,” you said when you finally recovered from a fit of laughter.

“We’ll simply be fashionably late, meine liebe,” he said with a shrug. “Come now, let’s get cleaned up a bit.”

You nodded, letting him help you off of the table and buttoning up your costume once again. You flattened out the wrinkles with your hands and looked down at yourself with a satisfied smirk. The makeup would need to be reapplied, but other than that, everything seemed in order. Plus, you had to admit, you were feeling much more confident about the outfit than before.

[rodeo-clowns]

Hi can I request Sarah Sanderson x female reader who has like a not so great best friend who treats the reader terribly (making fun of pushes around etc) but the reader is too scared to drop her?

I Know How to Hex You

Modern!Sarah Sanderson x fem!reader

A/N: Ty for requesting this! So sorry it took me like fifty years to write it, I’ve been struggling to write a lot these past few months, I have a lot on my plate. I set this as if Sarah was born in the 20th century, so both her and the reader are around like the same age. Sorry if the insults are a bit much, I just felt like this request hit really close to home as I realized recently that a close friend of mine was just really mean and was always against me so this is a bit of a vent fic. Also if you can’t tell, I started watching SATC, so there are some references in the text lol. I hope you enjoy ! <3

Word Count: 1,250 words! (One of my longest yet!!)

Warnings: Angst that ends with fluff, Body shaming, cursing, drinking, kissing, horrible friends (never keep bad friends y’all! learnt that the hard way, ouch), usage of Y/N and unproofread text (let me know if I missed anything!)

It was that time of the year again. Halloween, your favorite holiday in the world. Only this year the warm, welcoming yet spooky feeling of the holiday wasn’t there. You were currently standing in the corner at a Halloween party hosted by your friend, Becca while nursing a cosmo. You see, you were initially excited to attend the party, that is until Becca began making degrading comments.

Earlier that night at your apartment.

“Okay!” With a bright smile you open your bathroom door, stepping out. You were dressed head to toe in a cute witch costume. The dress on you was black with deep blue details and you had on a pointy black witch hat, accompanied by red lipstick and dark eye makeup. “Sooo,” you twirled around, showing off your costume to your friend Becca, who was seated on your bed. “What do you think?”

She looked up from her phone with a bored expression and stared at you for a good five seconds before she chuckled dryly. “You’re not serious are you?” she says with a mocking tone as she stands up, pocketing her phone. Your expression drops.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N…you can’t wear that! It is NOT flattering at all! I mean, what were you even thinking when you bought it?” She laughs and plucks the witch hat off your head. You look down at your costume. Was she right? Was the costume that you spent so much time shifting through thrift stores trying to put together really that horrible?

“Oh…” You respond, keeping your head down. You were hoping that Becca would get the hint and realize that she’d hurt you with her words, but she continued.

“I mean like be so fucking for real look at it,” she points to your figure in the floor length mirror across the room. In your reflection, you can see tears welling in your eyes, but Becca doesn’t seem to notice. “Already, you don’t even have a flattering body. These kinds of dresses are made for someone whose body is hot and sexy.” She says as her hands refer to her own body.

“I am hot and sexy,” you interject, trying to speak up for yourself as you always did when she’d get like this. She laughs loudly, the sound ringing in your ears, continuing on with her degradation before she gives up and looks at the time on her phone, stating that the two of you were going to be late for her party and that you had no time to change out of your “ugly ass dress” or change your “atrocious” makeup.

Present

Eventually, you leave the corner of Becca’s apartment, but only because you’ve now finished your cosmopolitan and need another if you’re going to get through tonight. Before you can enter the kitchen you hear your name pop up in a conversation that Becca is having with some friends of hers. “Ohhh my god do you see what Y/n’s wearing? It’s just awful,” she laughs out, wheezing in the process. “I mean she actually bought that and thought it was a good idea like who lied to her!?” You hear a few of her friends agree before you’ve had enough and step into the kitchen, grabbing a can of a random alcoholic beverage and step in front of Becca, who looks surprisingly shocked to see you. You shake the can aggressively before opening it right in front of her, spraying it all over her before she shouts in shock.

“Oops,” you slam the drink on her face and grab another can before you step out, grabbing your coat and bag from her crowded front entrance and leaving her apartment. You make it about two blocks before you break down crying in the middle of the sidewalk. Thankfully this part of Salem was deserted around that time of night, regardless of whether or not it was Halloween, meaning there was no one around to see you cry, or so you thought.

“Hello pretty,” you hear a voice say. You look up in shock, not expecting anyone to approach you. In front of you was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen, sporting long blonde hair and a whimsical look in her eye. You sniffle before greeting her back. “What’s the matter?” She asks gently, staring deep into your eyes with a look of compassion, brushing hair away from your face.

“Oh…uh…just got into an argument with someone I considered as a sister,” you mumbled. ‘What is the matter with me?’ You thought to yourself. Why am I telling this beautiful stranger about my life? I just met her!’ Nonetheless, you disregarded your thoughts and continued to confide in the stranger, finding her presence comforting. Strangely she felt familiar, like…home.

“Oh?” She replies after listening to you rant your heart out. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, no one should treat such a beautiful creature such as yourself so horribly.” You felt flushed at her words, a sharp contrast to what you’d put up with with Becca. “You don’t believe me?” She says as she steps closer to you, crowding you against the pole of the streetlight behind you. Gingerly, you shake your head. “That’s okay,” she says, “I can prove it to you.”

“Y-you can?”

“Sure,” she smirks an award winning smirk, your breath hitches. “But only if you want me to,” her voice lowers, asking for your permission. You take a moment to look around, noticing that the street remains empty except the two of you. You nod and she laughs lightly, shaking her head. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you?”

“Yes, I want you to prove it to me.” With that she smiles, and leans in, pressing a light kiss to your lips, it lasts less than three seconds but still you feel the wind knock you off your feet. As she pulls away, you look at her with awe. She smiles and speaks again.

“I’m Sarah.”

“Y/N.”

She smiles again and tells you that she’s never heard a name so beautiful in her life. This time, you’re the one who initiates the kiss, which leads into a small but heated make out session against the pole, your lips moving fervently against each other, like you can’t live without it. But before you can get too carried away, you hear footsteps behind you. You pull apart and look up to see Becca.

“What the fuck! Who’s this? Is this why you made such a scene back there? So you can go make out with this…Bimbo!?” She yells out, both invalidating your feelings and insulting Sarah. Sarah looks at you and whispers in your ear.

“Is this the friend that treated you horribly?” You nod in confirmation. She smirks, “Watch this.” Suddenly she flicks her wrist and Becca is gone. You gasp in shock.

“You’re-you’re a-”

“Witch?” She laughs. “I know, fun isn’t it? Don’t worry I didn't do anything bad to her, she's just back at her apartment complex, where she won’t remember this encounter.” She says it like it’s no big deal and at that moment, you couldn’t find yourself to care about Becca anymore, instead you wrap your arms around Sarah’s neck, leaning in.

“So what…else can you do with your magic?” You bite your lip, keeping eye contact with her. She laughs and raises her eyebrows. Before you can blink you’re suddenly in your own apartment, your arms still around Sarah.

“Let’s find out shall we?”