#the lil red nose is cute fight me

[usagimen]

I also cut my hair today, now to strip the black out && replace it with an ash blonde, but uh...ultra rare mun photo.

Once upon a time my hair was as long maybe roughly Suguru's length? I don't have panda eyes for once but all my egirl blush faded, the price we pay.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡

katsuki loves you throughout the years.

a/n : BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx

fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33

"for you."

katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.

you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.

"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.

"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.

"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.

you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.

"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.

"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"

katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.

"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.

"mhm !"

"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.

wait till stupid deku hears about this.

valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.

besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.

katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.

it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.

you fucking liked it.

the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)

you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.

and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.

he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.

katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.

until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.

dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.

these were different. these were just for him.

his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.

"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.

and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.

and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.

he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.

the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.

and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.

and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.

but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.

"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.

with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..

"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.

you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."

oh. fuck.

katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."

you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.

katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.

"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.

"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.

"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.

"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."

and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"

he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.

he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.

"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.

"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.

"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."

"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."

" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.

"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.

except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.

but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.

his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."

"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'

he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"

and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'

<33

[hoshigray]

this shit came in my mind but imagine reader ties toji wrist behind his back and teases him like touching herself n shit and he’s desperate and hard asf but reader not giving him any frictions just small touches to get him riled up and somehow toji unties the rope and rest in peace her and her pussy 🪦💕

we all love hardcore dom toji with degrading and oversim kink 💕💕

yes we do, yes we do~

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: hardcore dom! Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - restricted movement (m! + f! receiving); use of rope - teasing - Daddy kink - masturbation (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - impact play (pussy + ass slaps) - backshots position - multiple orgasms - degradation (broad, slut, whore) - dumbification - clitoral play (licking/sucking) - overstimulation - use of a BDSM collar - pet names (baby, good girl, mama). 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

He has a salacious grin plastered on his face. “You know it’s gonna take more than just one lil’ rope, right?”

You giggled, “Well, guess we’re testing your limits tonight.”

Toji sits on his knees on the hardwood bedroom floor, wearing nothing but his grey sweatpants, his bulky arms constricted behind his back as his wrists are restrained by a red rope, additionally tying his thumbs together. Other than this lies a black collar that slings around his neck, a leash that you twirl around your pretty fingers is connected to the ring part. 

You sit at the edge of the bed, wearing your undies and an oversized sweatshirt — his sweatshirt that you snatched the moment he took it off. Your eyes look down at him, a thing that rarely happens. And now that it’s happening, you take your time savoring it. “Just sit there and watch. No touchy, and no breaking that rope.”

He quirks a brow up. “Who made ya the one givin’ orders around here?”

“Me, of course; I’m the one who tied you up,” you lightly tug the rein, prompting Toji to bend a little closer. His jade eyes darken, and you can’t fight the smile that creeps on your face. “Be a good boy and enjoy the show, all right?”

He doesn’t answer, just watching you begin. You start by spreading your legs, exposing the region of your inner thighs and the cute design of your stripped panties. Your fingers crawl down to underwear, swiping up and down on the material to push between your vaginal folds. The wetness warming up causes a spot to form.

You can see Toji’s eyes follow every movement, tilting his head when your forefinger rubs a circle on your clothed clit. Your fingers then decide to sneak inside your undies, your wet cunt meeting your intruding digits. He glances back to your face when you release a soft moan and chuckles. “Enjoyin’ yourself, mama?”

“Mhmm, and you?” Your toes go to his chin, lifting his head. 

The action had his smirk broaden. “Ya sure gettin’ a kick outta this, huh.”

You don’t give him a response – you don’t need to. You’re in control now; he’s the one who should behave and do his part. Your foot then twiddles down to Toji’s sweatpants, pressing and sliding on his groin. It makes his breath hitch. “And what if I am?”

“Mmmph…Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish, baby.” Fuck, the way he looked at you was making you turned on. Even if he’s limited to moving, his dominant side doesn’t falter. It makes you want to tease and push his buttons more.

You lie on your back on the bed, stuffing your fingers in your mouth to bathe them in saliva before returning inside your panties. The self-lubrication makes it easier to slide in your forefinger, a gasp leaving your lips at the insertion. Your toes curl on the tent of his sweatpants, which only get firmer with every second. 

You bring the collar of his shirt to your nose; the cologne remains and attacks your nostrils. “Mmmm…Ahhhh, fuuck…” your voice muffled from the sweatshirt, concealing your puffy lips after pressing on your clit with your thumb.

Toji watches you masturbate before him; he has no choice but to. His bulge becomes more and more annoying to push off, wanting to touch himself and revel at the view of you relieving yourself thinking of him. Hell, the image of your damp panties ticks him off, wanting to rip that skimpy material off himself to feast on your cunt all he wants. Fuck this rope, man…

And he stands by that thought when you warp the leash around your palm and tug it roughly, pulling Toji’s face closer between your legs. The squelching commotion made by your fingers ringing his ears. Fuck, it was so dirty, and he loved it. You peer down at him, “How’s the view down there?”

He scoffs with a bitten lip. “Oh, y’re such a fuckin’ tease, sweetie. You have no idea what y’re gettin’ y’reself into.” 

The sentence humors you. “What makes you say that?”

With a twinge of his lips, Toji straightens his posture and reveals his hands are untied, the red rope clutched in the grasp of his right hand. And the look on your face when he shows you? Priceless.

“Huh!?” You exclaimed with widened eyes! “B–But I made sure to tighten it—“

“I told you,” he gets up on his two feet while his hands undo the collar around his neck. Now, he’s looking down at you; the shiver slithering down your spine at the darkened emerald look he gave you was stomach-dropping. “Gonna need more than one rope. Now, let’s see who’s really gettin' a kick outta this…” 

Damn, you could only chuckle nervously. I’m so fucked.

Yeah, you are. 

Now you’re screaming your heart out from Toji using your body to how he sits fit, his mouth now ravaging your soapy folds and his tongue flicking up and down roughly on your clit. Your hands are tied to your back, your legs propped up by one hand and the other curled around with the leash connected to the collar around your neck. 

“—Ahaahhn!! Ohhhh!! Fuckin—Gahhhh…!” You could barely utter a word, Toji sucking the soul out of you through your essence. You almost choke on your tongue, back arching at the aggressive laps at your cunt.

“Stay still,”  he slaps on your chasm, and you cry at the impact. 

“Hoohhh!! T–Tojiii, please—Ohhhh!!” Another harsh smack; God, you choked on your spit. 

“That ain’t my name,” stern emerald eyes convey a commanding aura. “Actin’ all dumb on my tongue like a slut, can’t even follow an easy rule.” 

“…Ahhhh, I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m ‘orryyy…!”

“Hmph, good girl.” He praises – the only kind thing he’s done outside of the onslaught of teases and sucks he’s done to your body, forcing you to come for the third time in a row. 

“AHHCK!! D-Daddyyy, stooop!! It’s ‘oo muchhh!! Too muuuch—“ your words slur out in helpless cries, not being taken seriously by the man between your legs. 

Although, it’s necessary because your slit is going to need to provide as much slick it can to accommodate the girth of Toji’s raw cock penetrating inside you. Fuck, you could never mentally prepare yourself for him, being full of him every single time. Clenching around his length like crazy, wailing out for him like a porn actress.

Toji’s fucking you from behind — your head smushed to the pillow because his hand pushes you by the neck. On all fours, your arch propping your ass up, the quick strokes of his pelvis have his dick scrape your walls euphorically, all the while gripping your asscheeks like a toy. He’s had you climaxed four times already, and he’s going to get that fifth one unquestioned.

“Fuuuuck—Hic…!” Tears stream down from watery eyes, and pornographic whines squeak out from you.

“—Hnngh! Fuck, clenchin’ on my dick like a real whore, mama,” he gives your ass a swift smack, forcing you to cry and the gushy walls of your vagina to clamp onto him again. “Shiiiit, fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

You can feel it, too; the climb of your own crescendo is soon. “Me toooo, I wanna cummm, Daddy, please, I wanna—Ahhaaaah!!” He slaps your butt again – the sting on your skin causes more tears to fall. 

Toji doesn’t give what you want – no, sir. He removes his cock quick, and a choked mewl clogs your throat when he pulls the leash, yanking you towards him.  “Heh, fuckin’ broad; who said you can cum with me?” 

God, he’s so mean. I fucking love this so much! “—Khhh…Please, Daddy, I wanna cum so baaad, pleaseee…!”

“Oh, really?” His patronizing tone with his gruff voice was such a hot combination. Still holding onto the strap, he brings you up from his grip. You’re practically choking on your saliva, thanks to this damn collar.  “Did ya learn y’r lesson, hmm?”

“Mhmm! Yesshh, I’m sho sorryyy,” holy fuck, you gotta be looking so dumb right now; eyes rolling up with drool coming down your chin.

Not for Toji; it was the sight he wanted to see. And now that he does, he’s thoroughly satisfied. Finally, he releases the leash, having you fall to the pillow with no grace, drawing in of breath. He inserts his cock back into you with a hum, and another slap to your ass makes you jerk. 

“So good fr’ me always, mama…”

hehehe~ it's been a while since I've done impact play *grins*.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – dividers from @/hitobaby.

[nymphomatique]

Ok fun fact, nose and genitalia both have erectile tissue so sometimes when people cum or feel aroused they also sneeze too. So i was thinking.... since nerd Miguel is such a loser he would probably sneeze when cumming too (not all the time of course lmao but it would probably happen) and i imagine reading sucking him off for doing such a good job writing her essay (the teacher said it was best in class) so she's feeling generous and she lets him fuck her mouth. When he is close he suddenly starts going "ah ah Ah AH" and sneezes while also at the same time cums inside her mouth and she isn't mad (to him she seems mad) but she starts degrading him and in the future brings it up to embarrass him. She is secretly very happy and proud that he got that excited.

this is so fucking funny help me

cw: a lil bit spicy, brief descriptions of giving head, miguel is ultra embarrassed but reader finds it cute, generally sweet (surprisingly) and once again riddled with typos ❤️

“..the fuck was that?” you question miguel after you pull away from his dick. his face is completely red in embarrassment. he sneezed while he came.

“i- i don’t know, i’ve never done anything like that before.. i’m so sorry, i didn’t-” miguel mumbles his apologies to you with his head buried in his hands. you fight the urge to laugh at him and his display, finding it oddly endearing.

“you’re such a freak of nature, i swear,” you sigh. “but, i kinda wanna see you do it again.” you mumble, beginning to kiss down his pelvic area.

he shudders and moans under your ministrations, the kisses giving him a second wave of arousal. you grab his dick and begin to jerk it slowly as you kiss up his shaft, feeling it come to life again in your manicured hand.

“i almost forgot to say bless you.”

[angelicblondie]

jj x doll!reader ~ cockwarming with jayj <3 (MDNI)

warning ~ public sexual contact

the waves crashed against the shore, and seagulls gawked in the distance, creating the perfect ambience for jjs and your beach day.

the two of you had woken up, legs tangled together in the thin sheets of the bedroom in the chateau, where you crashed the night before. you had woken up to jj smothering kisses all over you, which had caused you to giggle hysterically.

"nooo, jayj, lemme wake up."

"'fraid I cant, lil' miss. gotta get all a'dis cuteness agression out 'fore i explode,"

from there you had sauntered out into the main area, seeing john b already up. he took in your appearances - you, dressed in only jjs shirt and covered in red and purple hickies, and jj, shirtless with his lips swollen, covered in similar bruises to yours, except all along his torso. john b sighed loudly, used to the two of you like this.

"swear one of these days i'm bannin you from sleepin' over," he mumbled the empty threat under his breath.

after eating a light breakfast, the two of you got dressed in your bathing suits (you in a light pink bikini, jj in navy swim shorts), and grabbed your beach bag, heading towards the sand.

the two of you laid in the sun whilst your mini speaker lowly played music coming from a playlist the two of you made, combining you music tastes (considering they were vastly different). with sunglasses perched on your noses, the sun browned your skins, giving you both caramel tans.

this was one of your favorite things about jj being your boyfriend - he would indulge in your tanning needs, and even join in, since he was the last person to go on n' on about how it would give you skin cancer.

you sighed contently, feeling a peace. you flipped around on your back, brushing your hair to one side and looking at jj on your other, squinting through your glasses as you sent him a sweet smile. "havin' fun?"

"oh yeah, doll. best day I've had in years."

you giggle, the sound of travis scotts, "drugs you should try it" (jjs suggestion, of course) playing faintly in the background. "m'glad."

it didn't take long for you to get needy though - and who could balme you? seeing jjs glistening abs on full display was enough to wet your bikini bottoms and pull attention to the fluttering in your core. you turnaround on your elbows, squinting at him through you sunglasses.

"hey jayj?" jj slowly turned, knowing you were up to something by the tone of your voice.

thats how you ended up sat on jjs lap on the foldout chair behind the towels, slowly sinking onto his dick.

"jayj," you whine, squirming on top of him.

"shhh, its ok mama, y'can take it. niiiice and slow," he reasures, his hands squeezing on your hips, fighting literal demons to not just shove you on. the only thing that covered you too was the measly towel jj lazily threw around you.

you bite your lip hard to prevent the noises that threatended to spill out, and you grip his muscialar shoulders to ground yourself.

when you had proposed the idea, you had made jj promise that you wouldnt have actual sex - you just needed to feel him, to temporatily satisfy the fluttering. but now, actuallly feeling eachother, the task felt next to imposible.

you whimper, against you best efforts. "jayj, wan'more," you whine.

"nuh-uh, you only get the dick if your being a good girl. wan me to pull out?" he scolds, thought it was a pretty empty threat, considering there was no way in hell was he gunna pull out

"fuck, n-no, im sorry, i'll be good," your quick to apologize.

jj grunts when you finally reach the bottom and you gasp, leaning over to rest your head in the crook of his neck. jjs breath is held, stomach sucked in as his face scrunches, overwhelmed by the pleasure. he releases a shaky breath, hyperaware of how tight you felt around him, your little pussy puslating.

"shit, think i might bust in you." jj chuckles breathlessly.

"no, jayj, dont even think about it," you scold weakly, trying not to move. honestly, although it was hard at first, you were actually enjoyed him being in you in not a super sexual sense. it felt really intimate, and kind of sweet.

though, nothing was sweet about the way you were clenching around him, every so often wiggling to adjust in a position that was less painful for your knees. jjs hands rubbed down your back, and you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. you wondered if the two of you looked suspicious, but you decided that you didnt care.

eventually, you forced yourself to detach from him, and the two of you spent the rest of the day going back and forth from the water to your towls, baking in the sun. and of course, as soon as you were alone, you fucked in the twinky, eager to get your hands on each other as soon as possible. with the smell of salt lingering, and the feeling of grainy sand in the crevices of your body, you two knew it was the perfect end to the perfect day.

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x reader | fluff, snowball fights, bickering, husband!bakugou, just a short lil drabble, it snowed this morning and i was ✨inspired✨ | cw: cursing

-shoveling snow with bakugou turns into shoveling snow at bakugou-

It's too cold for this, too early; the sky is still pink and you're out here shoveling snow in your pajama pants. You have a serious case of stink eye when you turn to glare down your husband from the other end of the driveway.

He's bundled up in at least three layers, nose and chin tucked beneath that red scarf you bought for him two winters ago. His brow is fixed in a near permanent state of grump; you'd think him cute if you weren't so miffed with him right now.

"Can't we do this later, Kats?" You fake your best pout, bat your eyelashes when he shoots you a look from over his shoulder.

"We're halfway done, quit y'r whinin'."

You resist the urge to stamp your feet like a child. "But it's cold!"

"Maybe if someone had salted the driveway last night like I'd asked ya, neither of us'd be out here right now, hah?"

You dig your shovel into the snow, cross your arms across your chest, indignant. "Maybe if someone had picked some up from the store like I asked, I could have."

He snorts, turning his back to you and continuing his warpath through the snow. You glare as hard as you can, hope he can feel it through every stupid layer of his stupid coat. He doesn't, of course.

So you swipe a chunk of snow from the sidewalk, roll it into a neat little ball, and launch it, hard as you can in his direction. He turns halfway, hero senses kicking in just a moment too late; he tries to catch it, but it splats against his forearm.

You smirk, feeling victorious in your own right, rectified after being dragged out of bed at six in the morning.

But you'd forgotten one teensy detail: your husband is a sore loser.

Katsuki's eyes narrow and you squeal when the shovel falls from his hands, turning on your heel in a desperate attempt to flee. You don't get far, tripping over the mound of snow you'd just shoveled, planting yourself face first into the cold.

He's on you in seconds, shoving a handful of snow past the scarf he wrapped you up in this morning and down the back of your shirt. It freezes your neck, chills all the way down your spine.

"Katsuki!"

You think you hear him laugh. "What? Start somethin' y'can't finish?"

That has you kicking.

You huff a breath of hot air, wriggling your legs free and crawling out from under his body weight. He let's you if only to pin you back down the moment you manage to turn around and prop yourself up on your elbows. "Let me go, you big oaf!"

His knees fix your hips to the ground, gloved hands reaching down to scoop up a handful of snow. It crunches menacingly as he rolls it from one hand to the other, red eyes narrowed and nose scrunched up as if he's annoyed.

"Wait, wait, wait." You gasp, mittens holding his hands still. "'m sorry!"

"Yeah? I bet y'r real sorry." He shakes free, raises the newly formed snowball with one hand. "Now that y'r at my mercy."

"You win, okay, m' sorry Katsuki! Let's just finish shoveling, alright?" You slide back slowly and Katsuki quirks a brow, entirely suspicious. "Really! I'll make us both hot cocoa after and we can watch that stupid movie you like and, and—I'll only complain a li-ttle bit."

You slide back fully, eyes trained on the snowball in his fist as you get to your knees. Carefully, innocently you fold your hands in your lap, give Katsuki the sweetest smile you can muster. You lean forward, bump your cold nose to his. He sighs, eyes falling shut. He thinks you're going to kiss him, misses the way you grin, impish and satisfied.

In one quick motion, you take both hands and shove two handfuls of snow into his lap, sprinting through the yard before he can recover.

"Get back here y'damn tease!"

You turn back to stick your tongue out at him, met with an expression of both frustration and amusement. You're all but six steps away when the first snowball hits, seven on the second. You turn around to scowl at him. "You're mean!"

"I'll show ya 'mean'." And then he's trudging through the snow after you.

Your chest trembles, the last bouts of laughter fading like ripples in the water. Katsuki is sat beside you, snow caked to his jeans and in his hair. You smile, reaching over to dust the frost from the crown of his head. "Warm bath?"

"Y'comin'?" he mumbles into the palm of his hand, as if he's nonchalant, unenthused. You know better.

You can't help but tease him. "If you finish shoveling the driveway."

He scoffs, half-heartedly swats a bit of snow your way. "This was y'r plan from the start, wasn't it?"

You grin, removing your mittens before smooshing his cheeks between your palms. "Maybe." You press your lips to his before he can weasel away. "Or maybe I wanted to sleep in with you on your day off instead of shoveling our stupid driveway."

He frowns at that, takes your wrists in his big palms. "Never know when I might get called in, villains don't rest just 'cus 's my day off."

"Well they better 'cus you're mine today. I don't wanna hear a thing about heroes or villains, or 'Dynamight' for the next 24 hours." You press a pointed fingertip to his chest before pulling him in by his scarf and kissing him fully. "Got it, Bakugou Katsuki?"

He grunts, wrapping his arms around your middle and nosing at the crook of your neck. "Got it. Y'rs." His hands snake under your coat, beneath the hem of your nightshirt, gloves still caked in snow. You hiss at the cold, glaring at him. He grins. "I'll go heat up the water."

[professorsnape394]

Day 8: A Cosy Night In

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC

Rating: 🥰

Prompt: Cosy

Summary: Severus has a question to ask Y/N after a long day spent bonding with her family.

A/N: Short lil fluffy piece for a change. Hope ya'll like it.

Warnings: Cuteness overload!!

Word Count: 779

Credits to Gif Creator

“God, it’s freezing in here!” Y/N exclaimed, blowing hot air between her palms as she and Severus returned back to their home.

Before Y/N even had a chance to ask, Severus set the fireplace ablaze with a quick flick of his wand.

“You’ll heat up soon.” He reassured her, taking her icy hands in his and pressing them to his lips.

“Thank you for today.” She beamed, staring up at her boyfriend.

“You don’t need to thank me, darling. It’s my pleasure.”

Their day had been spent at The Burrow surrounded by excitable Weasleys and friends; all fighting to get a word in edge-ways. While it wasn’t his ideal way of spending Christmas Eve, Severus would do anything if it made Y/N smile, and Molly and Arthur were the closest thing she had to family. It had taken the whole family by surprise when Y/N announced she was dating Severus, especially the younger generation, but now they welcomed the professor with open arms, something Severus was still trying to get used to.

“I know they can be a lot, but they mean well.”

“I had a good time.” He promised, trying to ease the woman’s mind. “Although I am grateful, I get you all to myself tomorrow.”

“And tonight.” She reminded him, a menacing grin creeping onto her face.

“First, let me take care of you. Today’s been a lot for you too.”

As promised Severus drew Y/N a warm bath, complete with a thick layer of bubbles, a rim lined with candles and a large glass of red wine. She happily plunged into the tub, the … water melting away her tired muscles and defrosting her once ice-cold skin.

The twins had insisted on the whole family partaking in a giant snow ball fight, which was mostly an excuse to pelt their potions master in the face with snowballs. Unfortunately for them, Snape used Y/N as a human shield and she took the brunt of the …. Yes, it had turned her nose into an icicle but thinking back it was worth it to see her boyfriend interacting with those closest to her. She knew it had taken a lot for him to come out of his shell around them, and she planned to reward him accordingly.

Practically drifting off in the tub, Y/N eventually emerged from the bubbles, wrapping herself in the warm fluffy robe Severus had laid out for her.

This is truly what bliss feels like. She thought to herself, thinking she couldn’t possibly get any happier than she was in this moment.

Upon exiting the bathroom she was instantly proven wrong.

The room had been decked out in hundreds of …, her favourite flower. Rose petals lined the cold wooden floor, leading through the jungle of flora to a perfectly laid picnic blanket sat out in front of the fire, adorned with …. And in the middle of it all was Severus, bent on one knee, an open ring box positioned carefully in the palm of his hand.

Y/N’s hands flew up to cover her face, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone strong a sentence together.

Slowly she stumbled forwards, liken to a baby deer learning to take its first steps, and met Severus on the blanket.

“Severus.” She finally was able to say, as he peeled her hand away from her face, clasping it tightly in his own.

“Y/N.” He started, allowing himself to clear the lump from his throat. “I never thought I’d feel a fraction of the love you have given me this past year. My whole life I was taught to believe I was unlovable and you were able to change that in such a short amount of time. You are an absolutely incredible woman, and now I could never imagine my life without you in it. You’re the one, Y/N. I never want to spend a second more without you by my side. And if that means taking a snowball to the face from those Weasley twins I will take it gladly.”

Y/N let out a mixture of a laugh and a sob, her emotions running absolutely wild.

“I would do anything for you, Y/N. But could you do me one thing in return?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, willing him to go on.

“Will you marry me?”

Words had become a foreign concept to the woman at this point, unable to answer she simply threw herself into the man’s arms and sobbed into his shoulder.

“Is that a yes?” He asked started to get worried.

“Of course it’s a yes.” She croaked through a steam of tears. “Of course I’ll marry you, Severus.”

[daddy-suguru]

Congrats on 9k followers dear~

If you’re still taking event requests, would it be fine to ask for sex worker!choso x virgin!reader + overstimulation?

- sᴡᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏᴅ ɪ’ᴍ ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ sᴀʏ ɪs…;

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs | sugarbaby!choso, rich!virgin!reader, best friends to friends with benefits, overstimulation, fingering/clit rubbing, outdoor sex/sex on the balcony (no near by neighbors), high sex (bud), praise, daddy/princess, pussy kisses, oral, begging, squirting, tattooed!choso with a tongue ring, some making out

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ | 1.6k

sᴜɢᴀʀ’s ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇs | thank you, also this prompt got away from me, i blinked and it turned into a drabble. sugarbaby!stoner!choso is going to be rotting my brain for a while now

Choso tilts his head to the side, and his fringe covers one of his dark eyes. He insists, "Think it over, are you sure you want to throw away your first time?" Wapping his lips around the butt of the thick blunt.

The end of the tip glows red with his inhale. Illuminating his handsome pale face in a soft red light. Which is already catching the bright light of the full moon.

The dark tattooed line over his nose adds to how pretty he is. While his dark, fluff hair, was taken out of its spiky ponytails, framing his face. With his high cheekbones, pointy nose, full, glossy lips, and sharp jawline. Even the dark circles around his eyes look endearing.

Choso's shirtlessness and his low-hung sweatpants while he leans against the balcony of your private home. Looking like a very tired model. With his toned, brawny build and inky tattoos.

You were trying to get him out of the city, away from his normal profession. Giving him a peaceful night in the woods out of the city Yet here you are offering him some money to eat you out. Since you were curious as to how it felt and didn't trust anyone else than him.

Huffing, "It's not throwing it away if it's you." Choso is one of four people in your life who didn't care about your money. Your friendship always seemed more than enough for him.

Your friendship bracelet Choso bought with a cute little charm, which he said reminded him of you. You had gotten him a bracelet of his own. Something he got into a fight to keep since someone tried to steal it from him once.

Unbeknownst to him, you've fought with your parents for the right to wear. Since the jewels weren't real it was deemed trash to them. You still refused to take it off no matter what snide comments you still got over it.

You say, "But if you don't see me that way. I understand, it's just I'm curious about what it's like to..." You trail off your face heating up as you focus on the blunt that Choso passes while saying nothing. So you ramble,

"And you said you needed some money. I'm tired of you living in that scary motel. So yeah the more I think about it more I want you to be my sugar baby. You won’t let me just give you money, so I thought - I understand if you don’t find me unattractive and don’t want to." Looking off the side of the railing taking a slow drag while Choso pushes off the railing.

He walks up behind you, pressing his body against yours. Whilst grabbing your hips. Something he has done more times than you could count. After you cuddled him on the second movie night Choso would find a reason to have his hands on your body.

The higher Choso gets, the more talkative and touchy he becomes. Choso’s sweet forehead kisses, lingering hugs, and gentle squeezes from his hand, always left you wet and warm. His touch is so comforting, exciting, and safe.

Hitching your large baggy shirt over your hips. Exposing your clothed pussy to the cool wind. Before he reaches in front of you, pushing your panties aside, dragging his fingers along your lips to your clit.

Arching your hips back, his finger following your clit. Taking your second hit while Choso ensures, “Lil’ princess if it’s me it isn’t a waste, as long as you don’t regret this, I don’t want to lose you.” While nudging one thick finger past your lips,

“Tell me if it hurts, or if you're becoming uncomfortable and I’ll stop darling.” He kisses the top of your head, pumping his finger slowly. The blunt shakes between your fingers as you clench around Choso's fingers.

Softly wondering, "Does this mean you're my sugar baby?" Choso gently massages slow tight circles into your sweet spot when he finds it. Squeezing his finger while your knees cave in, pressing against each other.

"I'm all yours since you are insistent on taking care of me, this way I can do something for you to. So when you do move on from me you pussy knows what it's like when someone takes their time showing you how much they adore you." His sweet words are just a part of him playing his role as your sugar baby.

This is something you remind yourself of, Choso still sees you as a friend. Even if he is finger fucking you. Yet you still end up confessing,

"I don't want to share you with others, want you to stay here with me so I can take care of you." The tension building in your stomach is alike to the pleasure you gave yourself. Yet so different, so much more demanding. Turning your brain to slush, and your legs to jello.

Reaching back and grabbing onto Choso, slipping your fingers into his long hair. While wrapping your hand around the back of his neck. Plastering your body against Choso's more so.

He slides his fingers out, while he keeps rubbing your clit. Your cheeks heat up as you realize that Choso is licking your pussy juices off of his fingers. His loud groans fill the night air and you whine for the first time.

Covering your mouth as your eyes widen, "Let me hear you, that was beautiful." Rubbing your clit faster, his rough finger pads stroking small circles onto your soft nub.

"So needy for me aren't you?" Nodding your head, whimpering as you gush, your thick slick soaking your thighs. Yet Choso doesn't stop rubbing your clit. As your legs tremble and your knees lock, giving out.

Choso places the blunt between his lips. Before wrapping his arm around your waist, while asking you, "You can cum for me princess one more time, can't you? Let your beautiful, tight pussy make a mess for me to lick up." Lifting you off your feet, holding you tightly against his body. While he moves to the love chair, sitting down with you on his lap.

He blows out a puff of smoke while he ashes out his blunt. "Tell me how needy you are, have't hear ya sweet voice." You can't form the words as Choso curls two fingers past your lips. As he rubs your clit with the same, quick speed.

The pressure of his thumb is too much. As he rubs your sweet spot relentlessly, "Please! Please!" Sweet, loud mewling begs slip from your lips. Mixing with the wet squelching of Choso's fingers in your pussy.

There is a tighter tension building lower in your gut, "Please what darling?" Looking up as Choso leans over while you mumble,

"Please help me cum daddy." Choso roughly kisses you, biting into your bottom lip. His loud groan tells you that you struck a nerve with that name.

Parting your lips for him to slip his tongue past. Rubbing his tongue bar before mimicking the actions of his tongue. As he pumps his fingers faster, matching the pace he is rubbing your clit.

Thick clear cum squirts from your pussy. As you break the kiss and Choso speeds up the pace of his finger. while you look down. The moonlight glints of your cum. Which coats Choso's hand and wrist. While soaking Choso's sweatpants.

Panting as Choso pulls his hand out and lifts his slicked-up fingers to his lips. While you catch your breath he licks his fingers clean. When your breathing steadies you slip off Choso's lap.

Your legs wobble as Choso grabs your hips to steady you while musing, "Princess, I haven't even given you my cock yet, did you squirt that hard?" He drops his hand as you push your panties down. The long thick string of your cum stretches and snaps.

Bending over in front of Choso, spreading your pussy apart for him. While admiting, "I'm so needy I keep thinking about the way your cock looks straining in your sweatpants. Please Daddy! Cho, nnng Daddy!" He kisses your pussy before slipping two thick, tattooed fingers past your lips.

Spreading your squishy self apart to spit inside of you. Stuffing his spit inside of you while asking, "You want me to be your sugar Daddy and be sweet on your pussy?" Rubbing your clit with his thumb. Which is still so sensitive from cumming so much. Yet you don't want him to stop.

Choso groans, "Fuck I've seen so many pussies but none as pretty as yours. And the way you taste!" He replaces his fingers with his tongue. His tongue ring drags along your squishy pussy. While he keeps stroking circles into your clit.

Whining to him, "You're my daddy cho, I love how you always check up on me if I've eaten. And you encourage me to take care of myself, along with how well you listen to me." Groaning as you reach back and grab a handful of his hair.

You're going to make his hair softer with the right self-care products you can splurge on getting for him. While using him being your sugar baby as the reason for him to finally accept your gifts.

Choso pulls away, crooning, "One more time, whose your Daddy princess?" Standing up and dropping his sweatpants. Pushing them to the side, swiping his thick head along your slit. Swirling himself at your small hole while softly pushing past.

The burning of the stretch has you whimpering and Choso pulls away. While you shift your hips from side to side, telling him, "You are! You've been taking care of me already for so long, I want you to be selfish for once and let me make you feel good." He steps out from behind you, as you stand up.

Furrowing your brows as he walks in front of you. Your confusion is short lasting as Choso confesses, "I'm getting off on your pleasure. If you really want to help me be selfish, then sit down, spread your legs, and let me eat your pretty pussy till I'm finished." He grabs the bottom of your shirt as you raise your arms, for him to slip it off.

Sitting down, spreading your folded legs apart. As Choso turns on the balcony's lights he stands in front of you. "Princess you're so beautiful, such a yummy pussy all wet for me."

[izurou]

⋆ .˚ 𖤐 – ft. SHIDOU RYUSEI ⋮ contains: f! reader. fem receiving oral sex. spitting. brief penetration. a lil creampie bc i can’t not add one. he gets into a fight so violence ig but not much at all

at first glance, ryusei doesn’t look like a threat.

he’s all pink dye and accessories, with a thin black choker sitting pretty on his throat, and a matching headband pushing back the two ombré strands that usually frame his face.

glance number two, and alright—maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye.

his hands are shoved in his pockets, but the veins that seemingly start at each wrist and taper off into his toned arms are blatant, and they’re not a comforting sight. the black tank top he’s wearing is all but glued to him, showcasing his lean build, and hm—he actually does look pretty strong.

but—the most unsettling thing about him has to be his smile. there’s something rather inhuman about it—maybe it’s the simple fact that it even exists at a time like this, after he’s heard a crude comment about you, his precious girlfriend.

the third glance is the last—a wide eyed, bloody nosed stare given by those who’ve just learned that the brunt of his strength resides not in his punch, but his kick.

and then, you have to take your threat home.

⋆

“so much for behaving yourself tonight, huh ryu?” you haphazardly toss your phone onto your bed—watching as the device bounces a couple times before settling near his hand.

ryusei is sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning back on his palms and watching you.

“aww, c’mon babydoll, i did,” he insists—putting on a little faux pout as he coaxes you over to him through some unseen force. “he’s alive, isn’t he?”

yes, he let the asshole off with a warning at most. doesn’t he deserve a little praise for holding back?

“how sweet of you,” you mutter sarcastically.

he thinks you’re cute when you get like this—attitude off the charts because he went and made a scene again, and oh—he’s going to get himself hurt, is he? whatever. he doesn’t care, and he’s going to do as he pleases regardless.

though he’ll always, always let you have the same freedom with him to atone for it.

“what, you gonna punish me or somethin’?” he tongues at his cheek—blinking up at you through long blond lashes. “i won’t resist, angel face.”

an amused puff of air leaves your nose—because you know damn well that the words punish me lose all meaning the second they’re in his mouth. you don’t think there’s anything you could do that wouldn’t turn him on in one way or another.

even so, there’s no harm in having a little fun with him—right?

⋆

maybe not. he’s definitely a handful—bombarding you with lewd comments, and greedily pawing at your hips as you attempt to shimmy out of your tight clothing. but you persist, and now here you are—straddling his thighs in nothing but a pair of light pink panties, material so thin, so sheer—you might as well be wearing nothing.

“just gonna sit there and look pretty, babydoll?” he teases—grabbing onto your wrist and guiding your hand over the bulge in his unzipped pants. “i’d still cum, y’know. you’re that sexy, baby.”

“yeah,” you mumble, ignoring his latter comment. “something like that.”

you rub him through the fabric of his boxers a bit before tugging the material down altogether—just enough to free his visibly excited cock, which you ignore completely.

instead, you lift your hips up and over where he’s burning with red hot desire, repositioning yourself on his upper chest momentarily. there, you brush away the little baby hairs that have escaped from his headband, waiting for him to connect the dots and realize that yes, you will be sitting somewhere looking pretty—but it won’t be back there.

“fuck yeah baby, c’mere.” he bucks his hips at the sight of your cunt—taunting him from behind the pretty pink lace. how fucking annoying, he’s just about ready to—

“rip them and i’ll kill you.”

oh, you’re really speaking his language now.

“have it your way,” he hums in a singsong voice—sticking his tongue out and leaning forward to lick a smug stripe up the centre of the fabric.

you respond by corralling his hands and pinning them above his head with one of your own—matching his arrogance as you purr, “i will.”

gosh, he loves this—much more than he should.

using your free hand, you pull your panties off to the side, and he doesn’t hold back the groan that rips from his throat, because fuck, you’re so wet—glistening with a pretty little glaze of your own arousal, practically begging to be feasted on.

“c’mon, fuckin’ sit on my face baby, lemme taste that sweet cunt,” he urges—hips bucking up into nothing once again. “shit, i’m not gonna last.”

slowly, you start to move yourself toward his face—and quickly, his primal urge seizes control and sends him lurching forward, meeting you halfway as he dives tongue first into your heavenly pussy.

and you think to yourself—shit, me neither.

because, much like everything else he does, he eats you out with a fervour second to none—with an appetite so large, a hunger so utterly insatiable—a lifetime in between your legs would still have him asking for seconds. he sucks your clit into his mouth, and nearly unhinges his jaw as he dips his tongue down between your folds—wanting all of you, all at once. he does it over and over and over again—a true gnawing motion, paired with loud slurps and smacks of your messy cunt.

mere minutes pass—and while you’re busy falling apart atop his face, he looks calm beneath you—humming in content as something, either his own spit, or you—trails down the sides of his mouth.

“ryu, oh fuck,” you hiss, gritting your teeth as you resist the selfish urge to grind yourself down onto his face.

“mmmm, you’re sweet baby,” he pulls away in an attempt to catch his breath—tongue running over his shiny lips. “but you don’t taste like me. maybe i’m not fuckin’ you enough.”

his feast continues seconds after the last syllable leaves his mouth—he rolls and twists his tongue over your clit, shakes his head side to side a little, and you feel your body start to give out. as a result, you’re forced to release him from your grip as you latch onto the headboard for support.

“just let me cum ryu, please,” you whine.

and oh how is heart swells, you’re just so cute—rolling your hips against his tongue, using him to get yourself off—all while you gracefully accept defeat. adorable. he loves you so, so much.

a series of grunts rumble from his chest, vibrating against your mess of a pussy, and you know those sounds all too well—vision blurring as you realize what’s happening. you know you’re going to cum as soon as you look, but you do anyways.

peering over your shoulder, you watch through hooded lids as ryusei’s cock twitches, leaking his sticky white cum onto his pelvis.

your boyfriend—the same guy who handed out a broken nose just before this, is cumming for you, because of you, and you barely had to touch him.

and there you go, squeezing your eyes shut as your own orgasm consumes you—hips stuttering as your pussy pulses on his tongue. you sound so pretty, panting and gasping out his name—all he can do is hold you in place and help you ride out your high—pulling back only after he’s ensured you have nothing left.

“some pussy you’ve got there, baby,” he laughs breathily and pats the side of your thigh—letting you know he wants you to move. “made a real mess outta me, huh?”

“i hate you,” you mutter—swinging a leg over him and sinking back against your pillows. did he even really deserve to enjoy that? “i’m not having sex with you for the next week.”

he grins amusedly at you, tugging his now ruined tank top over his head, and ridding himself of his pants shortly after. is he deaf?

“whatever you say,” he absentmindedly agrees—coming back and hovering above your figure. he grabs your jaw, and runs his thumb over your lips.

“ryusei.”

“shhhh, open up,” he orders, and you don’t know what point you’re trying to prove anymore, if any at all, but you do just that—you part your lips and stick your tongue out. with your gaze piercing his skull, he spits—a little glob of saliva that clings to his tongue before settling on yours. “what do you taste, babydoll?”

you close your mouth and swallow—telling him what he wants to hear.

“me.”

“aw, isn’t that sweet?” he purrs—leaning down to press a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your lips.

and you almost don’t notice him easing the head of his cock into you, though it’s hard to ignore the sultry moan he lets out when he buries himself to the hilt��cock hypersensitive, and fully capable of filling you up right then and there.

“hey, i know you heard me,” you mutter, slipping two fingers beneath the tight band of his choker—making it even tighter.

“shit,” he pants—hips jerking as he effortlessly cums for a second time. “yeah, i heard you angel face. i’m gettin’ my week’s worth now, don’t want this pussy forgettin’ about me.”

[hey-august]

When it's time to party, we will always party hard

I wrote this one-shot a while ago and held onto it as a lil reward for getting 200 followers. I know that's not the usual milestone, but omgggg it's so amazing to me!!! To everyone who enjoys reading my nonsense about this goober - thank you, ily, I appreciate you lots and lots! 🤗🥰❤️❤️❤️

Word count: ~3.3k

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, not an established relationship, drinking, oral - buggy receiving, anal sex - reader receiving, protected sex, *glitter*, a bandana is not enough aftercare (but it's the thought that counts). All parties are consenting adults.

A/N: I originally imagined that the song playing in the background is Custer by Slipknot. It just seems like the kinda shit they'd put on after a while because 'lol cut cut cut me up' but the silly chop chop man will always put himself back together. I'm curious to hear what music you imagine!

Title comes from "Party Hard" by Andrew W.K.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Pirates and drinking - already an overwhelming combination. Add loud music, rowdy jokes, lighthearted arguments, tall tales, drunk fights, a disco ball, sea shanties, and terrible dancing? Then it’s a full-blown we’re-gonna-get-fucked-up party.

Your crew was celebrating a successful treasure raid - overflowing chests led to overflowing cups. Buggy had ordered for all the alcohol to be pulled out and cracked open for tonight’s festivities, the tantalizing smells of wooden casks, sharp rum, and wine becoming a siren’s call for everyone on the ship.

This was your first time experiencing such a blowout and it quickly went to your head. The main party was contained in the mess, but the festivities quickly spread across the ship with people constantly coming and leaving. Clusters and cliques found everywhere and anywhere, like rowdy dust bunnies. Some groups gathered to sing loud choruses, others to conduct drinking challenges, one lot took over the crow’s nest to smoke, and countless others that simply enjoyed the fun.

The group that adopted you stayed in the mess, talking and chatting. Unfortunately, the concentration required to follow a conversation that could hardly be heard over the pounding music was far out of your grasp. Instead, you just pretended to listen. Nodding when it felt appropriate, chuckling when the others broke into laughter, and taking shots alongside the others. Meanwhile, you watched the crowd. It didn’t take long for someone to start a game of darts, but with throwing knives. Fun and dangerous. Someone else began collecting empty bottles to juggle. By this point, he was up to 5 bottles cascading through the air, with one balanced on his head. Delightful!

You took another shot and broke off from your group. You wanted to get a closer look at the juggler. He made it look so easy and you wanted to try. Sure, you never juggled before, but it couldn’t be that difficult. Navigating the surging crowd was a challenge that you succeeded in overcoming. The victory was short lived when you misjudged your next step. Your foot caught the corner of a chair like a ship hitting shallow coral. The momentum propelled your forwards and you grabbed onto the first thing that touched your hands. A person. A person who grabbed you back, trying to fix your incoordination. It took you a moment to realize that the hands steadying your body didn’t line up with the arms you grabbed. Shit. That was when you finally recognized the coat in your grasp.

Buggy’s hands brought you back to your feet as he turned around to survey the damage. Your face was flushed, but you were fine. The red tint was probably because of the alcohol. And embarrassment from losing your sea legs. Even worse, the humiliation made your body feel weaker, like your knees were going to give out. At least you thought that’s what it was, until the butterflies in your stomach took flight. Stupid blue butterflies with cute red noses. 

Buggy felt your grip tighten so he slipped an arm around your back, propping your unsteady form against his. Having lived most of his life above water, it took a lot for the captain’s sea legs to falter. Although, the sweet look of shame on your face did make him feel a little woozy.

“S-sorry, Captain. I didn’t see you there.” Feebly, you tried to pull away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t really want to. And Buggy didn’t want to let go yet, either.

“Damn and here I was thinking that you fell for me,” he joked. 

You didn’t think your temperature could get any hotter, but now you were hoping to melt a hole in the floor and fall away. Hopefully it wasn’t obvious how fucking flustered you were. A floating hand came by holding two shots and the expectant look on your captain’s face told you that one was for you. 

“C’mon, it’s a celebration,” Buggy encouraged, squeezing you and kicking back his shot. 

You took yours and winced as it hit your throat. It almost felt cool, soothing the torrent of thoughts raging in your body. Looking back at Buggy, you noticed a few drops trailing down the corner of his mouth. Sloppy. Adorable. Without thinking, you reached over and wiped the liquid with your thumb. Before you could pull away, the clown flicked out his tongue to lick your thumb. He apologized for wasting alcohol and winked. That fucker.

The bashful frown on your face was too much for Buggy. It was fun pressing your buttons, but this was quickly turning into a dangerous game. Reluctantly, he loosened his grip on your body to release you back into the wild of the party. He watched you sway slightly, as if your body forgot how to stand without him. His body tensed as he resisted the urge to pull you back into his embrace.

Thoughts swirled in your head, carried on the current of alcohol. If your captain was acting so forward, why couldn’t you? It is a party after all…

“Captain, would it- would it be okay if I kept thinking about you? At night?” you stumbled over the words, eager to get an answer.

Buggy cocked his head to the side. This was a surprise - albeit a welcome one. He pointed at himself questioningly and you nodded. His eyes narrowed and his grin broadened dangerously. Leaning forwards, Buggy whispered in your ear. His voice sent chills down your spine, conflicting with the heat between your legs.

“How about you do more than thinking?” 

His breath was warm and you wanted to feel it everywhere on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded.

Buggy grabbed your hand and strutted away, leaving you with just a hand. You followed the direction his appendage pulled, trailing behind your captain like a puppy. He guided you both to the closest empty corridor, dragging you the last few feet by summoning his hand. Spinning you around in a clumsy two-step to the muffled music that reverberated through the ship, he pressed his lips against yours and moved past a few crates stored in the dead-end hallway. Still with wobbly legs, you grabbed his coat to stay upright and held your mouth tight against your dancing partner. The taste of rum and spit coated your tongue. He tasted sweet and bitter. And a little dirty. 

Breaking the kiss, Buggy tilted your face up with a finger on your chin. He searched your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation. It wouldn’t be the first time the pirate clown misread a situation and he wasn’t in the mood to be slapped in a not-sexy way. Your crashing mouth against his was enough of an answer and he eagerly reciprocated the affection. The next break was initiated by your breathlessness and dizziness. Pulling away, you saw that Buggy wore a similar expression with stars in his eyes.

“Why don’t you show me what kinds of things you think about?” Buggy prodded in a low voice. He placed your hand on his erection and used you to pet himself.

“Fuck,” you whispered, surprised by the pirate’s large mast. Although you said that for yourself, his cock twitched in appreciation.

“Please? Show me,” he whined, grinding against you. The begging tone in his voice made your throat tight and put your stomach in knots. That was nice. You liked hearing that.

Sinking to your knees, you undid Buggy’s pants and shimmied them down enough to access the treasure you’ve only dreamt about. The tip of his fat cock glistened, coated in precum. You blew on it lightly, enjoying how it swung and bobbed. Buggy hissed in anticipation.

“D-don’t be such a tease.”

You blew again. He groaned in pleasure and frustration. Holding the base of his cock, Buggy pressed it against your lips. At the very least, this should keep you from treating him like a fucking whistle. Your eyes fluttered as it throbbed against your lips, smearing precum like chapstick. You gave in and let Buggy into your mouth, relishing the soft moan he rewarded you with.

You sucked, licked, and caressed him until your jaw ached and your chin was coated in drool. Needing a break, you dragged your tender lips down the side of his cock. Kissing the base, you worked your way down to bathe his balls with a wide lick. You just barely hear Buggy muttering sweet nothings over the faint music. He placed a hand on the back of your head and pressed your face against himself. Spurred by his encouragement, you gently sucked and kissed his balls, coating them in your spit. You like how his cock rested on your face, accidentally tapping you a few times when it twitched.

Nearby voices broke your concentration. You looked up and saw Buggy eyeing the end of the hallway. He looked back down and - fuck - you looked so good down there. Obscene and beautiful.  He blinked a few times trying to clear his mind.

“N-no one can see anything as long as they don’t come down here. Crates are in the way,” he mumbled while thoughtlessly grinding against your mouth.

The voices got louder then softer, soon they were drowned out by the ambience of the ship. Whoever it was didn’t pay any attention or pause. While it felt naughty and a bit exciting, neither of you were in the mood to play a fucked up game of hide-and-seek. Before anyone else could come by and interrupt, Buggy brought you into the storeroom at the end of the hallway. One hand led the way, opening and closing the door, while the other pulled you along, taking you to one of the barrels kept in the room.

The hand you held pulled you across the barrel, your stomach and chest pressed along the top. You let your head drop into your arms for a moment. You were breathless, excited, and overwhelmed. Afraid that you would forget to live in the moment by being too interested in what might happen next. But this moment is more than you ever fucking imagined. The taste of Buggy’s cock in your mouth, your face coated in precum and spit, and now, here you were waiting for his touch.

Muttered profanity and rummaging brought your attention to your frantic captain. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Buggy patting and checking his coat pockets with floating hands and arm stumps. One hand seemed to emerge proudly until you both noticed the glove was covered in glitter. That is definitely not what he wanted and his hand actually looked disappointed in itself. You laughed at how dramatic Buggy is, even when it’s just a fraction of himself.

The clown cast a joking sneer your way before being interrupted by his other hand. Why he’s interrupting himself, you don’t know, but it makes you laugh again. Pulling himself back together, Buggy told you to get ready. You undid your pants and pulled them down enough to grant him access. Meanwhile, Buggy took the condom and lube he pulled out and prepared himself. The crinkle of the foil packet had your heart pounding.

A slap to the ass let you know that the fun was about to begin, the sound of his bare hand on your body was sharp. A rough hand pulled your ass cheeks apart as he kneaded your doughy skin.

“Fucking amazing,” he sighed while stroking his lubed cock.

Buggy leaned in and spit. You shuddered as it trickled down. He swiped the liquid with his thumb and pressed it against your asshole. Teasing you. Applying just enough pressure to make you feel delirious. You bucked your hips, trying to get something more. More pressure, more movement, something, anything.

“Tell me what you want, use your words,” Buggy crooned, rubbing circles that went to your head, dizzying your mind. You could still hear the dull sounds of music carrying through the ship. The heavy bass made you feel like your heartbeat was echoing everywhere.

“F-fuck me! I want you in me, please!” you cried.

“Keep going. I need to know what you think about~” he said in a sing-song lilt. 

Impatience and need raged in your body, consuming all rational thought. You took a deep breath, preparing to say things that you had only planned to keep contained in your fucked up head.

“Captain, I want you to fuck me in the ass,” your voice was shakey, but you kept going, “I w-want to feel your dick stretch my ass while you fuck me stupid. I don’t want my body to forget what you feel like.”

While you couldn’t see the brief surprise flit across his face, you could hear it in his husky voice.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to be so filthy. You fucking pervert,” Buggy said as he pulled his hand away and slapped your ass again. It stung in a delightful way.

A breath lingered in your throat at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressing against you. Buggy entered, eased by the lube and spit. He could see your body soften with the sensation.

“Y-yeah, like that please,” you whined, wanting to encourage your captain.

Panting, Buggy grabbed your waist and thrusted in time with the music floating through the walls. Hitting quick and deep, as if he knew what your body craved. It wasn’t long before the wet sounds of your bodies connecting filled the room, accented with moans of pleasure.

“I-is this wh-”

“Yes! You’re d-doing so good, Captain. So much better than I imagined.”

“Of-fucking-course,” he grunted, insulted by the insinuation that your imagination could be better than the real thing. He snapped his hips into you harder, wanting to pulverize those measly thoughts and replace them with memories that would make your legs shake. The high pitched whine you released let him know that he was hitting a good spot.

“Ooooh, that feels s-good…” Your words slurred together, strung with ecstasy and alcohol. 

Buggy’s hands pawed at your hips as he continued slamming into you, the movement jostling the barrel beneath your bodies. The ferocity in his movements were numbing your mind and body to everything except his touch. Each thrust loosened all thoughts that weren’t about your captain. The constant jiggling of your body dulled everything that wasn’t extreme - that wasn’t his bruising hands or his hard cock that refused to relent to your tight ass.

You were in absolute bliss, drifting on golden waves of lust, desire, and cock. You could hardly lift your head up, choosing to rest it against the wood grain and drool.

“D-do you think about coming while I screw you? I bet you fucking do…”

Buggy’s taunting words lit a fire in your body. While you were content to be fucked senseless, it wouldn’t take long to come and you absolutely imagined it before. Countless times. Sluggishly, you wiggled your body, moving a hand between your legs. It took a moment to get comfortable, since you didn’t pull your pants down far and your unsteady hand had to navigate through that blocker. Once you were in an okay position and playing with yourself, you tilted your head to the side so Buggy could see you nod.

“M’close,” you whined.  

You didn’t have to tell him, Buggy could feel it. Your body was tight. Tense under his hands. Your ass was squeezing against him, increasing the pressure and friction you both needed. Your orgasm was at your fingertips, just waiting for the final push.

“Where d-do you want me to finish?”

“-in me, f-fucking come in me, please. Want you to come too. W-wanna feel it.”

Buggy’s body threatened to fall apart at the sound of those words. He’s pretty sure his neck split a fraction when he tilted his head back in delight. Worried that he might actually fall apart entirely, he hunched over your back and leaned into his impending orgasm. He was in a frenzy, bucking his hips against you, while also rocking your body and barrel against him. Going so deep it ached. Making your body confused, believing this is what it was created for. 

The way your sweet hole accepted him so readily each time he slid into you, but gripped him tightly when he pulled back was more intoxicating than anything else Buggy had tonight. Your yelps and cries of pleasure carried him higher, closer to the precipice until he tipped over. His weak seams threatening to break again, Buggy slumped over your back as he fucked through his orgasm.

You felt Buggy’s cock pump inside, flexing against your already strained hole. That sensation and the weight of his body collapsing on yours, which felt surprisingly intimate, were the final pieces you needed - wanted - before you came. You had imagined what it would be like to come on his throbbing cock, feeling it twitch inside you, and holy shit. Your hands and toys were a depressingly pale comparison to the real thing.

Buggy kept moving until you finished with a deep breath that gently rocked his body. Finally letting go of your hips, Buggy braced against the barrel and pushed himself upright. Reluctant to pull his softening cock from your body just yet, he ran his hands along your lower back, thumbs pressing into muscles that must be tender. A shudder coasted through your body, causing your asshole to pulse and flutter. Buggy hissed, feeling both overstimulated but craving more. He definitely didn’t have another round in him just then, so he pulled out.

You felt empty. Satisfied. Messy. But also empty. You stayed resting against the barrel, not trusting your wobbly legs or the spinning in your head. Both were probably from getting dicked down so successfully, but it could still be the alcohol. You listened to the sound of snapping rubber, which was followed by the sound of rustling fabric. 

Groaning, you pushed yourself up and turned to see what the pirate captain was looking for this time. He was unsuccessful so far. And then that damn hand emerges from the glitter pocket. But this time, it was his bare hand. Which was sticky. And now it’s sticky and covered in glitter.

“For fuck’s sake,” Buggy growled, swatting his arts-and-crafts hand away with his arm. You found that fucking hilarious and threw your head back in laughter. Although Buggy wasn’t keen on being laughed at, he did like the sound. Giving up on his quest, the clown used his other hand to tug the bandana off his head and straightened his hat afterwards. He held the square of fabric out towards you.

“Sorry, I can’t find something else. This should be enough until you get to the showers,” he explained.

This was like a dream. Better than a dream, really. You never would have thought Buggy would hand off one of his bandanas for post-sex clean up. Dirty, like a pirate, and you liked it. You accepted the gesture and gingerly cleaned yourself, clearing away just enough that you could get dressed.

Buggy waited by the door until you were ready. You walked over and before he could open the door, you stuck out your foot. Tonight had been full of surprises and cause for celebration. Even though you had already pushed your luck, maybe there was room for a little more. Trailing your fingers on Buggy’s coat, you leaned in and pressed a light kiss against the corner of his mouth.

“You know, I’ve thought about what the captain’s personal shower must be like…” you said coyly.

Buggy reached up to grab your chin before realizing it was the glitter hand. Rolling his eyes, Buggy matched your gaze instead.

“I never woulda thought you were such a greedy slut for your captain. Seems like there are a lot of thoughts in that head that I need to deal with.” He flashed you that dashing, mischievous smile that always turns you into putty.

Buggy pushed past you to exit and tilted his head, inviting you to follow. And you did, without wasting another thought.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

whipped | lee jihoon

yo yo yo whassup i wrote this cute lil woozi fic bc hes so adorable and i'm in love with him ceo!jihoon x fem!reader warnings: mingyu literally gets hit by a car (he's fine lmao), jihoon is the cutest cutie known to man, reader is high-key whipped for him AS THEY SHOULD BE, idk if there's anything else pls lmk

You knew him first as the businessman who sat by the outside gate of the busy coffee shop on the corner of the street, sipping a hot cocoa while reading the paper. You got off the bus one ordinary day to see him looking at you -- dark eyes bright with curiosity, soft black hair blown back by the slight breeze, a broad hand on the handle of the mug. His cheeks turned red with embarrassment at being caught — and you were surprised at how endearing a man wearing a serious black suit could look.

And then a biker and a driver ran smack into each other in front of you, disrupting your eye contact.

You gasped and dashed across the street, kneeling beside the crumpled biker. He was a handsome young man, and you were relieved to see his eyes open, though dazed, and that he wasn’t bleeding anywhere.

You heard running footsteps, and then a curse under someone’s breath. Looking up, you saw him — small in stature, but large in presence, looking torn between hysterical laughter and worry. “Ah, Mingyu,” he groaned, the humor in his voice evident. “Again?”

“Sorry,” the biker said, rolling gingerly to a sitting position. “I’m not hurt.”

“You’re lucky,” you told him, helping him to his feet.

“Thanks,” said the biker, dusting himself off. He stood a head and shoulders above his friend, and was dressed a lot more casually, but he had a contagious smile and eyes that had an air of puppy-like excitement as they looked down at you and the businessman, who pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Were you looking where you were going?” the shorter man asked, looking up at his friend as though determined to be stern, fighting a laugh.

“I got distracted by something pretty,” he admits, looking down at you.

That was the last straw. The shorter man burst into laughter — an unbelievably adorable giggle that made your heart thump in your throat. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said through laughter.

“Thanks for being worried about me,” Mingyu said easily, patting your shoulder. “I’ll be okay now. Let’s go, Jihoon.”

And that was the next thing you knew him as — Lee Jihoon. It was a bit awkward when you followed them into the coffee shop, which had been your plan before Mingyu had been hit by a car. “Oh, you’re ordering?” Mingyu said to you. “Why don’t you sit with us?”

Involuntarily, you glanced at Jihoon. His dark eyes were still starry with curiosity, and you felt a rush of blood to your cheeks. “I don’t want to impose,” you said to them.

“Nonsense,” Jihoon said gently, addressing you for the first time. “Of course you should sit by us. Have whatever you like. I’ll pay.”

“No -“ you began to protest, but Jihoon shot you a look.

“I’ll pay,” he restated firmly, pulling a wallet out of his pocket.

The next hour had been surprisingly enjoyable. Mingyu was an eager, interested, engaging kind of person — but his companion intrigued you infinitely more. While Mingyu asked you questions about your background and family, Jihoon kept his eyes on you, listening and smiling but rarely interjecting.

You remembered how shocked he was when you had asked him questions about himself. At first, his answers were short and simple, but you found yourself asking follow up question after follow up question — perhaps to try and discover what it was about him that had captivated you so — and he slowly became more open. He shared about his family, his childhood, even his career as the owner of a successful music label. With every word, you became more endeared. Thoughtful, grounded, mature, but with a playful side hidden sometimes just in the corner of his grin or the light in his eyes, Jihoon was both incredibly easy to be around and a total surprise.

“He likes you,” Mingyu said when Jihoon had left to go to the restroom. “He’d never talk this much if he didn’t.”

You felt yourself blushing then. “He seems sweet,” you allowed, a smile stealing onto your face.

“He is,” Mingyu said, stretching his hands over his head. "And he's single."

You stupidly felt relieved at this. Mingyu could, evidently, see it in your face, because his grin only got wider. “Don’t worry,” he said conspiratorially. “I won’t tell him I told you.”

That meeting had ended with you three exchanging numbers, and that had turned in to you meeting up with him (and sometimes Mingyu) every day in that same coffee shop for breakfast. You got the sense somewhere in the many meals you shared that when he did speak, it was usually to coworkers and usually about business, but sharing about his life, his goals, his feelings was not something he got the opportunity to do often. And so you were absolutely fascinated by him -- his daily life experiences were enthralling when they came out of his mouth. He lit up around you in a way that made you feel special, and you loved listening to him talk. Before long, you'd fallen for him in a desperate way. You knew there was no way you'd ever recover.

You'd been trying to find the right way to tell him, but you always got so lost in him that it was difficult to squeeze a confession in. The amount of times you had typed out a text asking him on a proper date and then deleted it was embarrassing. You were so scared of losing what you had with him that you'd never hit send on a single one. Instead, you continued to meet him every day for breakfast, hoping your opportunity would smack you in the forehead (because knowing you, you'd probably miss it if it didn't).

Today when you arrive at the coffee shop, Jihoon is off his routine. His paper is folded on the table, and he is bouncing his leg and looking at the office buildings across the street like they have an important message emblazoned on their fronts. You try to keep your heart from turning over as he meets your gaze and an absolutely irresistible smile spreads over his face, realizing he isn't nervous -- he's excited. He motions to the seat next to him, and you jog over to sit by him.

“So,” he says as you sit. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to sound too eager. “Explain, then.”

He takes a deep breath. “Can you come to an event tonight?”

“Oh!” You exclaim, taken aback. “Um, sure.”

He looks at you seriously. “It’s very important to me that you come,” he says, his eyes glowing with intensity. “You will, won’t you?”

“Of course,” you assure him, while simultaneously wondering how anyone ever says no to him. Those eyes, that smile, those lips -- the way his jacket strains across his compact frame in that way that makes it impossible for you not to wonder what it would feel like to bury your face in his chest...

By the time you've realized you're zoning out, he's writing something down on a piece of paper -- an address. "You could just text it to me," you point out, laughing.

He grins. "I know, but this is more fun and mysterious. Please don't look up the address before you come -- I kind of want it to be a surprise. Promise?"

"I promise." Because honestly, you think to yourself, you'd do anything he asked.

<3 <3 <3

You show up to the address on the paper ten minutes earlier than he asked you to come, waiting outside of what looks like a luxurious club in your nicest red dress. A man in glasses and a suit steps out from the club, asking your name. You tell him, and he nods, ushering you to a stairwell in the alley that leads down to the basement of the club.

Your jaw drops upon entry. There’s a spacious room with a high ceiling from which hangs an intricately designed chandelier. The glittering jewels hanging from the fixture cast rainbows all over the room. The whole room is very Gatsby-ish, and you look around nervously for Jihoon in the crowd of people already thronging the medium-sized stage.

You find him almost immediately — as he strides out on the stage in a suit, with a bright red electric guitar slung over his shoulder. He begins to play, and you watch from the side of the stage, your eyes wide and enthralled. You are shocked. He is amazing. His nimble fingers play dizzying strokes that send goosebumps up your arms. Where is the sweet, shy, endearing man from the coffeeshop? This new Jihoon commands a stage like a general commands an army. He is powerful and confident and perfectly in his element.

And you've never been more attracted to anyone in your whole life.

After he finishes his first song, he steps up to the mic. “I’m not usually the one who performs,” he says, and you almost yell why not, “but in honor of five years of our company, I wanted to do something special to pay respect to our artists. I’ll be playing a new release, which will eventually be given to one of our groups, called ‘Maybe I'm Falling for You.'”

He begins to pluck out a gentle, beautiful melody on his guitar. Before you know it, your eyes are filling with tears as Jihoon makes a detailed confession to you through his song — speaking of how you helped him feel seen and special and how beautiful he thinks you are.

For a moment, your lungs stop working. It seems like they’re taking in the music instead of the air, and you feel a sweet kind of dizziness as you watch him bare his soul in front of this crowd of people.

As the song wraps to a close, Jihoon’s eyes are scanning the audience. He finally sees you. Giving you a half smile, he gives a small point in your direction.

You rush through the door he exits through, catching him just as he puts down his guitar and throwing your arms around him. “Did you like it?” he asks nervously, and you laugh, your eyes blurring with tears.

You take his face in your hands. “I loved it,” you say. “It was perfect. You are perfect.”

His hands rise up to your wrists, and he beams at you. "No, you are," he says. Then suddenly, he looks nervous. Looking around as though worried you’re being watched, he only stays still once you grab his tie. He looks down at you and gulps nervously. You laugh before standing on your tiptoes and kissing him softly on the lips.

You try to turn to leave, but he catches your arm. Spinning you around, he pulls you in by the waist and kisses you back, deeper and more soulfully than you kissed him. His arms at your back feel strong and comforting, and his lips begin to travel -- from your mouth to your cheek to your forehead and temples, even sneaking a neck kiss in here and there. You start to hear music in your head again as he stops, breathless, to press his forehead against yours. “Sorry,” he says quietly, his chest heaving against your own. “I got a bit carried away.”

You kiss him square on the lips. “Do it again,” you say. He giggles before obeying.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day! I was thinking about this Bakugou, where he penches his s/o lips whenever she teases him or compliments him, saying that her lips should be punished for driving him crazy or smth.

I just find this idea cute if you please can write about it 😭🤍

a/n:..wait...cus why are you a literal genius this got a lil kick teww ittttt.. (kinda soooorta angsty but like if you squint, katsuki is bad at feelings but he tries his hardest, kissing, no biting for once wow its been a while..dont worry yall its comin, short lil drabble, hope u enjoy ! <3)

"your eyes are so pretty katsu."

katsuki bakugou thinks he'll never be able to get used to you when he looks down at your head in his lap, raising a brow as a defensive mechanism to not turn red all the way down to his chest.

"where'd this come from ?" he leans into your hand almost reflexively when you place it against his cheek, still not breaking eye contact as you smile at him, he feels warmth crawl up his back and it makes him squint.

"nowhere," you run your finger across his cheek, than across his nose bridge "just wanted to tell you."

he gulps, clearing his throat his eyes fight to keep looking into yours, relaxed and happy and comfortable. it feels strange to see someone so comfortable around him.

"yeah ?"

"mhm, your lashes are so long too." you muse. it's casual, it comes out so easily.

he feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you run your fingers over his eyebrows. you keep on touching him, and he likes it, usually. but it's overwhelmingly nice, you're overwhelmingly nice and he doesn't know what to do with it. because bakugou isn't sweet like you. he can't casually tell you that he loves your eyes, that he could be perfectly content staring at you doing whatever for hours on end, that random things he sees when he's out remind him of you and that you're the last thing he thinks about when he falls asleep.

because it comes out wrong, when he does. but even still your words make him so unbearably giddy. it's foreign receiving compliments, and if he does their almost always quirk related. but these are different and they're from you, so it feels even better and though embarrassment creeps up onto his body his heart buzzes and beats proudly. he feels like he can't sit still so he does the next best thing.

"shush." he mumbles, pinching your cheeks to make you pout. you splutter out a giggle when he leans down to place a sloppy wet kiss onto your duck lips. "you keep sayin' weird shit.." he dodges your grin when he lets go of your cheek.

"but they are long ! and your eyes are pretty ! that's not weird, it's the truth." you maintain, nodding afterwards like your word is law. fuck, he loves you.

"be quiet." he pinches your lips shut and you start flailing around with muffled giggles and squeals. katsuki follows, laughing through his nose and meanly moving your lips around in his grip.

"fuck, you drive me crazy.." your eyes snap open at his soft eyes and words. his eyes shine mischievously but his cheeks are bright as he smirks. you pout at him and it makes him want to squeeze you until you pop. ( he remembers you called it cute aggression or something)

"you talk too damn much." he pinches your cheek "needa be punished for drivin' me nuts all the damn time."

"jush shay yur not goo wif complimeshs." katsuki snorts at your attempts to talk with your cheek in his grip, and he can't help the half smirk on his face when you laugh. he releases your cheek in favor of leaning down to press his lips against yours.

"you're the pretty one, dummy."

"but we can both be pretty !"

"whatever, you're prettier then."

katsuki still feels his heart thump loudly in his chest, and he's sure he'll keep feeling like this for a long while. your words will keep sticking to his heart like they always do. and maybe he is 'pretty', he'll go along with that for you, but you're definitely prettier.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Rollo ttsum headcanons? 👀

THIS REMINDS ME 😭 I saw a really cute doujin of Rollo + his aide and VP running into a Rollo Tsum and then deciding to take care of it for the day…

Curiouser and Curiouser…

… It’s uncanny how closely the Tsum looks like Rollo. It even has a teeny-tiny ring (can that even be removed?????), a teeny-tint hat, and teeny-tiny dark circles under its eyes. Whoa, it even has a teeny-tiny handkerchief to hold to its nose when it feels totally disgusted! o.O

If you ask Rollo what his thoughts are on the Tsum, he’ll pull out the handkerchief and make a dismissive comment about how it’s such a meddlesome creature. (Rollo refuses to acknowledge that it is cute and that he’d fight anyone that hurt it, no matter how much he is pestered to confess.)

NBC Aide-kun and Vice President-kun instantly become massive fans of Tsum!Rollo--

It’s early to rise!! Before your alarm clock can wake you up, Tsum!Rollo is already crawling on your face and bouncing on your stomach, indicating that you should wake up right now. (… The sun hasn’t even risen yet.)

Despite looking sleep-deprived, Tsum!Rollo has a lot of energy—most of it being dedicated to being mad of its far larger peers. Sometimes its anger is so great that it vibrates intensely and radiates warmth like a little portable heater.

It likes to crawl into the folds of Rollo’s hat and stand vigilant as a self-appointed lookout. He scolds it and tells it not to, but it doesn’t listen—it only listens to its own set of self-righteous morals.

Tsum!Rollo likes sitting around in quiet, peaceful places not doing anything in particular but soaking up the ambience. Be careful where you step in the Mirror Chamber or the library, you just might accidentally squish the poor little thing!!

For some reason, animals love bullying Tsum!Rollo. The pigeons chase it around, peck at it, and steal its hat for sport. Lucius hisses when Tsum!Rollo is close. Even the usually behaved Hearslabyul hedgehogs and flamingos push the lil' bean around. Something about Tsum!Rollo is just so... bulliable...

It likes flowers; Tsum!Rollo can be seen waddling amongst them on sunny days. It has a fondness for red ones, sometimes picking them in its stubby little hands to pass off to Rollo. “I see that you can appreciate the finer things in life.” He accepts it with a small smile, but inside, he’s wearing a far more wicked grin.

Tsum!Rollo glares at other Tsums and people in general; it can’t talk, so it seems to stare judgmentally at others instead. If its SUPER upset, then it’ll approach with its tiny staff and smack you with it to demonstrate its anger.

The little guy’s so enthused about bells! Hand it a sleigh bell and Tsum!Rollo will happily (and aggressively) chime it all day. The incessant sound will be forever burned into your head.

It enjoys cleaning. Because Tsum!Rollo is so small, it can’t scrub down an entire room, but it sure as heck will try to!! It’ll ride its own little scrub brush around, giving the floors and dust a deep cleaning. If it's not careful, it’ll slip off and crash into the soapy bubbles, emerging as a fluffy white yeti. You can also find Tsum!Rollo polishing any metal it comes across and washing down stone statues (the gargoyles appreciate it).

Tsum!Rollo loves grapes! (Unfortunately, its size only allows for it to get full on a single one.) It hangs around like a dog begging for scraps as Rollo eats his lunch. When it comes down to the final grape, Rollo sighs and hands it over to the Tsum. It happily absorbs the orb right out of his fingers, leaving Rollo stunned and wondering how Tsums eat without a mouth. “It must be the devil’s design…”

It tries so hard to take notes using a quill. The feather, however, being as droopy as it is, keeps smacking Tsum!Rollo’s hat or face as it bobs up and down with each written letter. Tsum!Rollo preserves though—it wants to finish this doodle of a city on fire! (“… It has surprisingly violent thoughts,” Rollo notes. He quietly approves.)

Tsum!Rollo actively refuses to enter Diasomnia. If you try to take it to the mirror, it’ll squirm out of your grasp and dash away, hiding until it has emotionally cooled off.

If it spots Malleus in public, Tsum!Rollo puffs up like an aggressive cat and rushes to tackle him into submission. (The same goes for other boys that anger Tsum!Rollo enough, but most of his rage is dedicated to Malleus.)

When Tsum!Rollo uses his UM, it becomes a literal little fireball…!

Rollo uses his Tsum!self as a stress ball (which the Tsum doesn’t seem to mind for some reason). Sometimes it inflates to a much larger size and he buries his head into it to scream in frustration.

After a long day of shenanigans, Tsum!Rollo has tuckered itself out. It lulls off into a gentle sleep, swathed in the moon and the stars of Rollo’s full-sized handkerchief. “… Silly thing,” he murmurs, holding it close to his chest. “That you are able to live this burden-free existence is truly a blessing.”

[love-bugsy]

trouble | jason todd

the worst thing about love

you’re just trying to get through your surgical residency, but this masked vigilante keeps showing up half-dead on your fire escape and reminding you of your dead best friend. oh well, at least he's cute.

one | two | three | series masterlist

tw: no editing, allusions to character death, (haphazard) depictions of grief, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, completely ooc Jason bc he’s just my lil guy, medical terminology learned from greys anatomy lol

only jerks steal other people’s writing and mine isn’t even that good so no reposts

The paint on your door is chipping, some of it flaking off when you shove it in that particular way to unstick the lock, dropping your keys on the side table in your entryway. Your eyes flick down to your watch, bleary eyes reading that you’ll only get a solid four hours of sleep tonight - by fault of a sadistic attending with a mountain of charts. Still half-asleep, you lock your door, habitually double-checking the deadbolt. Good ol’ Gotham. Taking a single step into your apartment, you freeze. Faint sound echoes from the living room; your TV is on.

Cold fear spills down your spine - you aren’t under any delusions that your neighbourhood is safe, but people here usually keep to themselves. You pull your baseball bat out of the umbrella stand by the door, clammy palms gripping the barrel too tightly. Wielding the bat haphazardly, you creep into your living room.

Old cartoon reruns play tinnily on your shitty TV, the nostalgia doing nothing to calm the prickling anxiety that crawls up the sides of your neck. Rounding the corner fully, you brace yourself for a murderous intruder to leap out at you; heartbeat in your throat.

Instead, your anxious heaving is broken by a gruff mumble from a lump taking up half of your couch. Fucking Red Hood. It’s the third time this month. Shoulders sagging, you pinch the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut like he’ll disappear when you’re not looking. You swear that mask glints at you mockingly when you look up again. You set the bat down, pulling off your coat and unwinding the maroon scarf around your neck. You’re being influenced, birdie.

You approach the couch, stepping around muddy boot prints to turn the television off. You drop your bag against the coffee table and slot yourself between Red Hood’s wide-spread legs. He’s slumped upright in the middle of your couch, one arm slung out over the back; scuffed leather jacket chucked over the other side. Something stutters in your chest at the sight of him taking up so much space in your home; the evidence of his presence.

You think he’s unconscious at first, but there’s a tenseness to his shoulders still; a rigidity you’ve seen lax when he was bleeding on your living room floor. The sight of him so relaxed spurs you into a bit of a panic - you doubt he would ever be so unguarded unless he had a serious injury.

Reaching out, you feel around his torso, frowning at the rough patch of dried blood seeping from his left shoulder. You unbuckle his makeshift pauldron and hunt around in your work bag for a pair of scissors to cut away his sleeve. You’re leaning over him with the scissors when he huffs, head shifting in his sleep. You flinch - nearly nicking him - and draw back holding the scissors a safe distance away.

“Shit!” You gasp out, as his mask lifts to meet your eyes. He lets out a gravelly laugh at your shock and you frown, taking your scissors to his sleeve again.

“Not gonna buy me dinner first?” He rasps drowsily. You can hear the shit-eating grin he’s sporting under the mask and you shoot him a dry look - fighting a smile as you gently pull his sleeve away. Pursing your lips at the dried blood caking his shoulder, you press around to find the wound, pausing when he draws in a sharp breath. You raise an incredulous brow.

“Is this a bullet wound?” You don’t know how he manages to look sheepish from behind the mask. He winces when you start cleaning away blood with an alcohol wipe.

“You should… shit- you should see the other guy.” You purse your lips a little, focused on cleaning the wound. Occasionally, he huffs when you get a little too close to his injury. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from scolding him for getting shot in the first place. You should examine him impartially - years of training scream that one oversight could be fatal - instead, you slip up into something instinctual; something gentle.

“Jesus, Red… this is… how the hell have you been keeping yourself alive?” For some reason this yanks a dry, barking laugh from him. That damn familiar laugh. You just can’t place it.

“You’d be surprised.” You give him as flat a look as you can manage, absently gnawing on your bottom lip as you examine his injuries. He flattens his head against the back of your couch, staring stoically up at the ceiling as you prod around the bullet wound. You yank your phone out of your pocket, aiming the weak flashlight at his shoulder. Shit. Bullet’s still in there.

He lifts his head when you turn your back to him, putting your phone down to grab what you need. You shoot him an apologetic look, “Got a bullet in there, Red.” He grunts, shifting so his shoulder is angled towards you. You pull on a pair of rubber gloves, dousing the palms in Betadine. “This is gonna hurt.” He huffs out an amused breath.

“Always does.” You lay a repentant hand on his other shoulder before digging your fingers into his wound, trying to find the shell. His breathing starts to get more laboured, his head lolling back a little. Wincing in his stead, you pull out what’s left of the bullet, wiping it off to see if there’s shrapnel still in his shoulder.

“You’re lucky, this looks intact.” You feel the way he looks at you, biting your bottom lip to hold in a laugh. He is less amused.

“Lucky, huh?” He says, gaze locked on the bullet as you hand it back to him - clean of his blood. Taking it in his good hand, he fiddles with it as you dig around for bandages in your first aid kit; you’re starting to run out. You find the bandages at the same time as you find your response; part fond, part disciplinary.

“Just be glad you don’t need stitches.” His head shifts slightly and you get the distinct feeling he’s trying to read you. He’s silent for a long while after, watching you bandage his injury quietly.

Not for the first time, you’re unsettled by the blank slate of his mask; you don’t like that you can’t figure him out. His anonymity makes the silence unnerving.

“So… you gonna tell me how you got shot?” He just looks at you, mask hiding any indication of his response.

“My self-preservation skills aren’t all that honed.” You can’t help the snort that escapes you at that, covering your mouth with both hands in embarrassment. You have to look away at how intensely he’s staring at you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you go back to securing his bandages.

“I noticed.” You mean for it to sound dry but you can’t fight the little smile that betrays you. You’re getting too comfortable with him, forgetting that he’s a killer, forgetting that he’s a criminal, forgetting that he isn’t him. Maybe that’s why you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Reminds me of someone I used to know.” Stupid.

“Never heard that one before. Maybe you should introduce us.” His tone is joking, but you tense up all the same.

“No.” You say, tightly, averting your eyes. It’s cold, and mean. You grit your teeth to stop the flood of memories. Red doesn’t notice.

“Ashamed of me are ya?” He teases, voice rumbling out of his modulator. The sound is somehow twisted, grating against your ears. Unknowingly wrenching up a buried grief into the pit of your stomach; kicking dirt in a minefield.

“He’s dead.” You marvel at how cold you sound, how detached, when your chest is tight with a phantom pain. He shifts up immediately, sobering in an instant. He reaches out a gloved hand, gently pulling your wrist from where you’d unconsciously crossed your arms. He rubs an apologetic circle into your pulse point.

“Shit, sorry.” You look away, though you know it’s unfair. He winces. “I didn’t- I’m…”

“... sorry.” You nearly drop the tray of dirty dishes you're carrying at the sight of Jason in your door; hand cradling his profusely bleeding nose. Shoving the tray onto the closest table, you sit him down at a chair behind the counter and wander off to find a clean towel. Wetting it under the sink, you sigh, nudging his hand away to tenderly daub at the blood under his nose.

The silence stretches, broken only by Jason’s foot tapping on the floor as he fidgets in the chair. He winces when you bring your hand up to check his nose and you snap.

“If this was one of those Castor boys again, I’m gonna kill ‘em.” That pulls a little smile out of him, imagining you up against those 6 foot ogres. You don’t think even the Gotham in you could give you a fighting chance with those two.

“S’okay. Can handle it.” Little crease between his brows. You sigh fondly, running a curious finger over the tiny scar on his cheekbone. If you were paying a little more attention, you might have noticed the red flush crawling up his neck at your touch.

“I know that. Doesn’t mean you should.”

“Sorry I… it just makes me so angry- I,” he huffs in a tight breath, like he can’t get enough air in, “I can’t stop myself.” You frown, torn between being angry at him or with him.

“I don’t want you to apologise, blue, just,” you draw in a pensive breath, brows furrowed, “They got you bad this time.”

“They were jumping a kid, ‘dee, couldn’t stand by and watch.” His hands are as restless as his bouncing leg and you feel a twinge of endearment and jealousy all at once. He’s always moving, so much that sometimes you feel like you’re at a standstill; only a matter of time before he leaves you behind - grit in your teeth and grit in your heart. But today, he’s your best friend and he could’ve gone anywhere, but he’s here. You wrinkle your nose, worry creasing your forehead.

“You and your hero complex.” You hand him the bloody cloth to fiddle with, before gingerly checking his nose again - barely ghosting your fingertips over his nose. You didn’t know - back then - what being careful meant - to him, to you - you just knew you meant it. Your eyes are locked on his nose when you speak again, “S’gonna get you killed one day.”

He narrows his eyes at you, head tilted to the side - a language you aren’t fluent in yet. He’s serious for a long moment, watching you dart your eyes away and begin to pick at the skin peeling off your fingers. His brows loosen.

“Not when I got you lookin’ out for me, birdie.” He shoots you a toothy grin - god, you love his grin. All his teeth bared like he never learned how to smile properly. You always want to make him smile like that. Still, you can’t help the way your brows knot up, jaw tight as you watch a trickle of blood drip from his nose.

“I’m tired of watching you get hurt, Jay.” The lump in your throat makes the words come out thick; the fear makes them small. Despite your best efforts to hide them, stubborn tears pool on your lashes as you blink furiously. Jason looks devastated.

“Shit.” He brings his free hand up to take your wrist, rubbing comforting circles against your pulse. (An effort to stop your tears that only makes them fall harder.) “I’m… I’m not used to people worrying about me. I’m sorry. Fuck, please don’t cry, I hate it when ya cry.”

You let out a watery laugh, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The little voice that tells you you’re going to lose him one day. You must look utterly pathetic when you meet his gaze because he pulls you into a tight hug, tucking your head into his shoulder as you cry.

Distantly you recognise the uncomfortable position you’re folded in, nearly bent in half to press your face into his neck, his shoulders pushing against yours. You don’t know how long the hug lasts - a lifetime in a minute and a half - but when you finally pull back, eyes puffy and red, Jason hangs on to your wrist, thumb brushing the hollow where your hand meets your wrist.

“I got your shirt all wet,” you say, laughing self consciously, “I’m sorry.” Jason just shakes his head, grinning sheepishly.

“I got blood on yours.” You nearly get whiplash from how fast your head turns to your shoulder, which now sports a deep maroon splotch. Gross, nose blood. He laughs heartily at your expression, “Guess we’re even then, birdie?” You roll your eyes, pulling your hand from his grip to cross your arms over your chest, raising a brow when he pouts in return.

His eyes dart between your unamused expression and the clock behind your head, smile faltering a little. He has to go. You hold out a hand for the cloth and he jumps up - his constant energy is a marvel - dropping the bloodied tea towel in your open palm. He runs his hand under his nose, smearing a last drop of blood over his upper lip.

You stop him as he’s about to leave, running the clean corner of the cloth gently over his mouth to wipe away the mark. He looks straight into your worried gaze, bringing up a finger to smooth the crease between your brows. “Hey, birdie, no wrinkles over me.” Your mouth twists.

“S’you and me, ‘dee, promise. Not gonna go anywhere else.” Jason holds out his hand, pinky outstretched. He cocks his head with that stupid, glorious grin of his. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging.” You roll your eyes, wrapping his finger in yours.

“You and me, blue.”

“Doc?” You jolt back into the present, hands frozen over the clip you’re securing Red’s bandage with. His hand is still wrapped carefully around your wrist and you yank it back - face heating - letting his hand fall forlornly by his side.

“Shit, sorry, I- sorry.” You finish your, somewhat shoddy, job, chucking your supplies back into your bag haphazardly.

“You okay over there?” With your back to him, you hum a less than convincing agreement that he seems to believe. You hear him rustling about behind while you zip up your bag, and assume he’s getting ready to sneak out your window, leaving you with only traces of him until he fucks up on patrol again.

Instead, when you turn around, he’s holding out a scratched up burner phone, mask tilted. You shoot him a confused look, taking the phone into your hands.

“What… am I doing with this?” He laughs, and you fight the heat rising in your cheeks at the sound.

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re pretty dense sometimes.” Now your face really does feel hot, brows furrowing at his chastisement. He chuckles at your quiet indignation, pushing the phone closer to you, “Your number, pretty girl, so you don’t get scared half to death next time I show up.” You fumble the phone, glancing between him and it as you enter your phone number. You tuck your hair behind your ear as you hand it back to him, crossing your arms again.

“Next time, huh?” You think he might be smiling under the mask, though you’d never be able to tell.

“Not getting rid of me that easily, doc.” He gets up, dusting off invisible dirt from his pants. Absently, you follow him over to your window, sweeping up his leather jacket before he can. When you hand it to him, your hands brush - a cliche jolt sparking up your arm when you touch him. He looks away as he takes it.

Red ducks out of your apartment and onto the fire escape, putting the jacket on fluidly and adjusting his mask. He gives you a little mock salute and you shake your head, biting back a smile.

“Don’t text me unless it’s an emergency.” You say, not meaning it at all.

“Swear on m’life.” He returns, fingers crossed behind his back. He turns after a last, charged stare, grasping the railing with his good arm. Flustered, you scramble, not one to let him have the last word.

You lean out of your window as he swings, one-armed (christ almighty, your knees might be weak), down onto the fire escape below. “You can use my door, you know!”

He meets your stare from below, as you hang half out of your apartment. He belts out a chesty laugh, “Now where’s the fun in that?” He swings over the fire escape, and disappears into the night.

Oh yeah, you’re in trouble.

some “emergency” texts:

y’all I wish I had an excuse but the truth is just that I have adhd and I got really into pjo haha, uh so here’s chapter 3. it’s not great but it is done so I hope you guys enjoy it, gonna make less promises about my fucked up schedule now lol.

with love, bugsy :)

[frvnkcastles]

sorry for being anon but omg!!! i love ur writing so much i always check to see if u have posted, anyway i was wondering if you could maybe write something where reader nd frank have a big argument nd it almost leads to angry sex but reader ends up saying a safe word or something and its just super fluffy and sad and cute… love u

POISON FROM THE SAME VINE ➸ F. CASTLE

Summary: When an argument with Frank escalates, you have to use your safeword.

Warnings: Making out, not quite smut, use of safe word, implied suicide ideation, feminine nicknames, hurt/comfort

Word count: 1.4k

Author’s note: I hope you like this anon!! I’m always happy to write about Frank being a comforting ole teddy bear. Missing him a lil extra tonight :(

You and Frank rarely argued, hardly even disagreed, unless the air was playful and teasing — on those occasions, he made sure to push your buttons — but for the most part, the two of you were in complete harmony and understanding of each other. So, when you did fight, it had to be about something serious.

Tonight, it was the fact that he had disappeared for weeks without a trace, not even a note, not a phone call or a text message to reassure you that he was alive. Maybe you could have swallowed that, but when you heard from Curtis that Frank had contacted him, you had seen red. Why hadn’t he bothered to get Curtis to relay a message? Why hadn’t he put in the effort for you?

It hurt all the more when you thought back to the night you had told him about your struggles with abandonment and always feeling like you were gonna lose your loved ones. Like you’d never be good enough and somehow you’d push him away. And he had nodded, kissed the back of your hand and promised that would never happen.

And yet, here you were, reminding him of that very night while angrily fighting back tears. You were sad, but more than that, you were angry, and you didn’t want him to get out of this too easily.

”I couldn’t risk it”, he repeated what he had told you countless times already, his tone loud but not yelling, his eyes trained on his hands while you stood across from him, heartbroken and betrayed. He couldn’t bear looking at you, well-aware that he had done you dirty, but at the same time, he had very little regret in him. If going no-contact was going to keep you alive, then he’d do it all over again.

”What if it didn’t keep me alive, Frank? What if I was convinced you were dead and I— what if I—”, you began, but choked up before you could get the words out. Frank understood what you had implied, though, and finally, he looked up at you with wide eyes.

”Promise me it won’t come to that. Promise me that no matter what happens, you’ll keep going”, he insisted, but scoffing, you wiped your eyes again and sniffled.

”You’re in no position to make demands right now”, you reminded before crossing your shaky arms. ”I’m really hurt, Frank. You could have given me some kind of sign”, you continued, and with a huff, Frank lifted his hand to pinch his nose.

”I told you, I coulda gotten you killed and nothin’ is worth that”, he argued back, and waving your hand to dismiss him, you moved away from him but he reached for your hand. You reacted quickly, pushing him off of you with a glare, and for a second, you both just stood there, staring at each other, inches away from one another with the air warm and heavy between you.

Maybe it was the anger amplifying the longing that you had both felt for each other, but within a blink of an eye, you were rushing to meet in the middle in a fiery kiss. You closed your eyes and clamored to push his jacket off of his shoulders while his hand came to rest on your neck, not squeezing but only holding you close to him. You had missed the taste of him, and concluding from the groan rumbling from his throat, the feeling was mutual.

In a flurry of movements, the two of you found yourselves in the bedroom, your hands pushing Frank’s jacket off of his broad shoulders while his landed on your hips to firmly hold onto you. His lips were on yours without pause, his scent in your nose and all your senses overwhelmed with just him.

It escalated quickly, your back suddenly against the mattress and the buttons of Frank’s shirt open as he climbed on top of you, and when he lifted your leg around his hips, you didn’t protest.

But something about the hot air started to feel constricting, something about his mouth on your neck making your heartrate pick up in a way that wasn’t so exhilirating. Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling while your hands clamored up to Frank’s shoulders, just to rest there while you waited for the anxiety to pass. But your stomach kept turning and you weren’t quite sure how to keep breathing and before you knew it, you were opening your mouth only for a hoarse sound to come out, one that didn’t even remotely resemble your voice.

”Sa—safeword. Frank—”, you stuttered, and within an instant, without even a shove to his shoulders, the man was off of you, his eyebrows knitted together as he sat back on the bed and looked at you. With quick, rapid breaths, you sat up against the headboard and looked down at your shaky hands, losing your ability to speak, and Frank quickly picked up on the seriousness of the situation.

”Shit.” He cleared his throat before looking down at you, lowering himself to be on your level. ”Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay. I won’t touch you anymore, alright? You’re okay. We don’t gotta keep goin’”, he reassured, his voice level and calm and the opposite of everything you were — a trembling, panicking mess.

”Listen to me, aight? It’s okay. Breathe with me, sweet girl. We’re just sittin’ here, you and I. Nothin’ else has to happen. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, yeah?” he went on, the rumble of his voice sending something familiar and calm through your system. Slowly, you managed and nod and you finally looked up at him — and as soon as your eyes met his, you burst into tears.

”I don’t want to fight, I don’t want this”, you stammered through sobs and brought your hands to your face. ”But I was so scared, Frank. You mean everything to me and I thought it was over. I didn’t appreciate you enough while you were here with me”, you continued rambling, everything pouring out of you as you cried, and with his heart breaking in two, Frank frowned.

”Can I hold you, sweetheart? That okay?” he asked quietly, and with an immediate nod, you climbed onto the foot of the bed where he didn’t hesitate to wrap his strong arms around you. He held you tight, shushing you and closing you in the warmth of his embrace with a litany of kisses left on the top of your head.

”I love you. You hear me? I love you. I can’t fuckin’ bear the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to you. I know it was shitty but I thought it was the best I could do, y’know?” he whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek as he licked his lips and interlocked his fingers with you. ”I never wanted you to be scared. Sometimes… I think you’re better off without me.”

You wiped your eyes and looked up at him. ”Frank, I’d rather be in danger with you than be safe and alone. I don’t want to be without you. Please, don’t do that to me”, you pleaded, and for a moment, he looked at you before chuckling.

”You think you ain’t appreciatin’ me enough? Shit, girl, I barely survive without ya. You give me so much and—and what’s more, you make me feel like I deserve it”, Frank shrugged and looked down at where your hands were joined. ”If you want me here, then… I’ll be here. Or if I have to go, then I’ll take you with me.”

Smiling, you reached up to kiss him, your lips connecting in a much softer way this time. His finger caressed your cheek, and it widened your smile as you rested your forehead against his. ”Thank you.”

You were both quiet as Frank continued to hold you, but eventually, he spoke up in a way that seemed almost meek, so unlike him. ”Did I hurt you? When you…”, he began, and with a thick swallow, you shook your head.

”You didn’t hurt me, baby. I just… I don’t think either of us were in the right mindset, huh?” you pointed out, and with another chuckle, Frank nodded. Still, he leaned down to kiss you again, gentle and careful.

”Will you let me stay tonight, anyway? Been sleepin’ like shit without you”, he murmured, and breaking into a grin, you nodded.

”Me too.”

[amaya-writes]

Calling Them After You have A Bad Dream Of Them Part One: Shigaraki

Notes: tbh I just saw this idea sitting in my drafts yesterday and suddenly felt motivated to write it between classes so here's a cute lil drabble. send me an ask for any other characters you would want this idea with

Warnings: mentions of nightmares/bad dreams, mentions of kidnapping (very lightly, he thought sm bad happened to you), reader calls Tomura Tomu because I think it's cute and was going for a cutesy reader vibe

Characters involved: Shigaraki Tomura

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Your hand shook around the cold metal of your phone even as you pressed it against your ear.

Long rings echoed from the device, with each sound making a new wave of anxiety surge through your abdomen.

He was fine. You knew that. You had just gotten off of the phone with Tomura a couple hours back and he made it clear he wasn't harmed during their fight against the heroes.

He was safe, just like the rest of the liberation was.

But that dream.

The mere thought of your dream was enough to make shivers wrack your body as you crawled further under your blanket.

The warmth of the soft material helped remotely calm your racing heart but it did nothing to quell the fear consuming you.

You wanted him. You needed him.

You needed to feel Tomura's arms wrap around your form as you buried your nose in his long hair. You needed to have him by your side so you could forget.

Forget about all the blood and decay, forget about the fire and the dust that made you double over in a coughing fit as you watched the heroes take your love away from you. Forget about the screams, about the way blood matted his skin as he screamed for you to-

"Hello?"

The sound of his voice made you jerk up in surprise but you found yourself scrambling to reach your phone a moment later.

"Tomu? Hi! Uh- I-"

You trailed off then, taking in the sound of fabric ruffling on his side of the phone as he no doubt moved around in bed to find the blaring red alarm clock on his bedside.

"It's two am, baby, why are you still up?"

A long yawn followed his question, the sound causing your heart to clench in guilt.

You woke him up. He had spent the entire week restlessly fighting off the heroes and barely had time to blink much less sleep. He was exhausted, and had collapsed almost as soon as the liberation escaped the battleground.

And you were stupid enough to wake him up when he was too tired to even move.

You were stupid. So stupid. You were a problem, a liability. You were useless.

Just like in the dream. You couldn't save him, you couldn't help him, you would just trouble him and be the reason for his demise.

You didn't realise tears were streaming down your face until it was too late and a sob escaped your lips.

You wished Tomura was sleep deprived enough to not hear the sound, but the sharp sounds of fabric from the other side of the phone told you otherwise.

"Baby? What- are you okay? What's going on? Fuck, I knew I should have kept you here with me! Those wretched heroes-"

"Tomu, I'm fine."

You had to raise your voice to make him actually listen to you, but you somehow managed to subdue his panicked rambles.

"Where are you?"

"Home."

Another rustle of fabric, but this time you could hear him moving out of bed.

"I'll be there soon."

"But Tomu-"

He cut the call before you could finish, forcing you to once again curl up on your bed with an annoyed sigh.

By the time you awoke, his fingers were already carding through your hair.

The sudden feeling made you jolt up in alarm but you were quick to return to his embrace the second your eyes took in Tomura's familiar form.

His clothes were a mess and his hair riddled with tangles. Blood stained the sides of his neck and bits of his skin peeking out from under his black sweater and pants. And you weren't certain, but you could almost swear you saw a bruise or two blossoming across his arms.

Tomura was injured and imperfect. But he was here. He was safe.

And he was looking at you like he wanted to murder someone.

"Who hurt you?"

"What? No one, Tomu, it's not like that."

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, but he thankfully chose not to say anything as you sat up and shifted to loosely wrap your arms around him.

"I- well, I had a nightmare. A bad one. It was about you and-"

You sucked in a sharp breath, but even that wasn't enough to help you voice your nightmares. So you didn't.

"I was just scared, I'm sorry I woke you up."

Tomura remained quiet even as you huddled closer to his chest. His fingers continued untangling your hair, never stopping even when he let out a painfully strained chuckle.

"You made me run halfway across a city for a nightmare?"

"I didn't mean to! I told you not to come I-"

His hand moved to hold your chin even as you spoke, with his fingers squishing your cheeks to cut off anything you could say.

"Don't care. You can repay me with breakfast in the morning."

His hands dropped from your face then, instead shifting to your waist as he pulled the two of you under the blankets.

The room descended into a comfortable silence broken by the periodic scratches of his nails carding through your hair and the soft rustles of fabric.

Normally, the silence would have made you stare owlishly at your ceiling as your brain flooded with thoughts of your dreams.

But not now. Not when you were surrounded by his warm presence ready to turn all your nightmares to dust.

With him, you were safe. You were untouchable.

You had found your sanctuary in the arms of a villain. But you were fine with that.

"Love you, Tomu."

He let out a soft hum against the crown of your head, with his lips parting to echo your words a moment later.