#the slightest hint that you're being weird to me i fucking notice

[meetmyothersouls]

Darling Death

A collaboration with @sufferingstarlight

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

Warnings: toxic male behavior, talks and mentions of death and dying, cemetery, not proof read

Chapter 5 - Day 5

"So, grim reapers can cook too? Let me add that to the list of random abilities you seem to possess," I said as I took in the array of food on the dining room table. Bacon, eggs, oatmeal. "You made pancakes too?"

"Actually, they're crepes." He seemed proud of himself, but also the slightest bit timid, like he wanted to make sure everything was to my liking. He stood in the entry way as I took a seat. I filled my plate with three glorious pieces of bacon, a hearty scoop of eggs and two of the crepes-not-pancakes.

"I gotta say," I said, as I shoveled a fork full of the stuff into my mouth. "Pancakes are better." I looked up, my cheeks stuffed with food. Timothee stood there, staring at me, a hint of a smile plastered on his face and I realized he looked more like he was lost in thought...and maybe admiring me. He quickly realized I noticed shook his head, as if erasing the expression from ever existing.

"Are you not gonna eat?" I asked, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the amount of food I had on my plate.

"I don't really need to eat," Timothee said, shrugging. "But I'll sit with you."

I watched him as he walked effortlessly to the table, if I didn't hear the slightest clack of his shoes on my hardwood floor, I would have assumed he was floating. He pulled out a chair and took a seat.

"Lemme guess, grim reapers feed off of a portion of the dead's souls, giving them sustenance until the next victim they reap passes?"

"Yes, actually."

My eyes snapped up, meeting his. There was a mixture of seriousness and amusement in them, and it was a mixture that made my stomach flip in a way that I wasn't expecting. This time I shook my head and scooped up the rest of my food with my fork.

"You're fucking weird, man. Speaking of, I've got work today and a date tomorrow, so would you mind keeping the gloomy stalker show to a minimum? I can't have another outburst like I did the other day. Josie is already sick of my shit as it is."

When he didn't respond I looked back over at him. His hands were in white knuckled fists on the table, if he were holding a glass, I'm sure it would have shattered into a million pieces. His dark hair curled over his eyes, so this time I couldn't make out their demeanor, though if it matched his fists, it wasn't a good sign.

"A date? Really Y/n?" Timothee finally said.

"Uhm, yeah? Why is there some rule that bars me from going on a date before I die?"

"No, but maybe I should make one," he said under his breath.

"What was that?" I asked, hearing every word he'd said. Was he jealous? All he was supposed to be here for was collecting my soul.

"Nothing. Is this date with a boyfriend?"

"Not that it's any of your business," I said even though the thought of Tristan and I being more than just friends almost made my breakfast come back up. "He's an old friend that's liked me for at least a decade. Last week, before you showed up, I agreed to give him a chance over dinner and a movie."

"So, there's no boyfriend?"

"Why do you care?" I pretended to be annoyed.

He smirked at my tone, and even though the fact that he seemed so interested in my love life, or lack thereof, should have bothered me, it did the exact opposite.

"I don't. It's just that sometimes the goodbyes are messy when there's a lover involved, so you might not want to make him any promises on this 'date'." He put the last word in finger quotes.

The rest of that day went by shockingly quick and uneventful, though Timothee couldn't resist a casual jump scare or two. He'd walk behind me, unknown to anyone else and run a finger across the back of my neck or blow into my ear. Each tease made me want him to push me against a wall again, run his nose against my neck and breath my 'underworldly' scent in. And weirdly enough, I started to like the sound of that.

Darling, you smell like the underworld.

Day 5

I slid on my strappy black dress, the one I pretty much reserved for dates, disappointed that Timothee wasn't around to see it on me. I hadn't seen much of him, which was weird considering I couldn't get rid of him lately. I tried to push away that feeling. The feeling of missing someone you have no right to. The empty chest feeling that is only cured by one person's presence.

The only thing I didn't like about that dress was how much it showed. It wasn't as revealing as it could be, but it still showed the one part of me I always tried to cover. My collar bones. It wasn't that they were bad, they were actually quite nice. It was the dark, swirling birthmark staining my skin on my left collar bone. I'd tried everything from makeup and concealers, that eventually just melted off of it. To removal that even lasers couldn't touch. It was just...a part of me. Every time I wore this dress, I watched as my date's eyes travel down to it. Normally, I'd wear a cardigan to cover it up, but with mine and Tristan's fifteen years of friendship, he saw it before.

I made my way to the semi-fancy Italian restaurant, already limping in the heels I shouldn't have worn. It wasn't until I walked inside and met Tristan at the table, he already reserved for us, that Timothee took a seat. Right next to Tristan. I wasn't unaware to Timothee's eyes sweeping over my body. The last few days he'd only seen me in casual clothes, nothing this fancy. Then I saw it. His eyes locked on my birthmark.

I shot him a look, the irritation evident in my eyes and face. Tristan looked in the direction of Timothee, a confused look on his face, but, of course, couldn't see him. Tritan looked around the room, wondering who I could be giving this look of disdain to. Little did he know he was sitting right next to him.

"Thanks for giving me this chance," Tristain said.

I hid my cringe. Why did he make it seem like he was interviewing for a job.

"We've been friends forever, Tris, why wouldn't I give you a chance."

Beside Tristan, Timothee rolled his eyes. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, watching me in amusement.

Tristan perked up at my answer, hope filling his eyes. Timothee pushed out his bottom lip into a pout shook his head in mock sadness. Then I remembered what he said the day before. Don't make any promises. So instead, I just smiled at him.

We placed our orders and drank our drinks awkwardly while we waited. I hated how strange this felt, even if Timothee wasn't sitting in between us, Tristan and I had dinner together many times, why did he have to make something as causal as eating food together feel so different this time.

"So, y/n," Tristan said, breaking my train of thought. "I've been thinking and, I really think you should open up a bit."

Timothee made a face of mock shock and put an index finger to his mouth in thought.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, not able to hide the slight attitude brewing inside of me.

"It means I know you like me. And for some reason you won't let me in. So, I think tonight is the night that that happens."

"Let you in? Wha the fu-"

Sensing the mood, the waiter approached with our plates and politely placed them in front of us and walked away without asking any questions.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I finished my sentence.

"It means that this is the way the rest of tonight is going to go: we're going to eat this food, and I'm going to pay for it. Then we're going to go to the movie you picked out at 8, which I am also paying for, then you're going to take me to your house and we're going to do what I say from that point on."

I was shocked into silence, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. I'd known Tristan for fifteen years and he'd never once acted this way. I looked over at Timothee and I almost wished I hadn't. His face was almost dark with rage. His eyes normally a greenish-blue color was now completely black. His furrowed and close to his eyes and he worked his jaw in a way that I'd only seen people do before a fight. Then, he stood up, the chair behind him fell to the ground causing Tristan and a few people in the surrounding area to gasp. Our waiter came over and picked up the chair and whispered a polite and confused "I'm sorry." Timothee made his way to the front of the restaurant and slid out of the door once a busboy held it open for a older couple to come in. And suddenly, I felt a lot less safe without him sitting at the table with me. This new side of Tristan seemed sinister.

Tristan shoveled a ravioli into his mouth, glaring at me. "Are you not going to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," I said through my teeth.

The door opened again, and I heard the sound of a familiar voice. I turned around and there he was, Timothee. My grim reaper. I didn't hide the smile on my face, I couldn't help it. This time it was clear everyone in the room could see him. I watched as he spoke in a whisper to the busboy at the door. Timothee glanced in my direction and winked. Then the busboy looked over at us and nodded. Instant relief flooded my entire being.

I wasn't sure how he was able to change so quickly, but he was now wearing a very expensive looking suit, all black with small accents of red and a pin attached to the collar that was none other than a scythe. The entire restaurant quieted and watched as he walked, in seemingly slow motion, to our table. All eyes, including mine and including Tristan's were on him. The busboy followed behind and quickly pulled out the chair that Timothee was sitting in moments before.

"Y/n," Timothee greeted me, pulling my hand into his and kissing the top of it. Already, I felt my core turn molten. His lips felt like fire and ice on my skin.

"Who is this man?" Tristain said, disgusted.

"You must be Tristain," Timothee said extending a hand. When Tristain didn't take it, he elegantly curled his fingers into a first. "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but it's unfortunately the exact opposite. Tell me, does it bring you pleasure to try and take advantage of women, or do you do it because your dick is small?"

I snorted and spat out some of my drink. I could see Timothe's smirk forming along his profile.

"Excuse you?"

"What do they call that these days? Small dick energy?"

I covered my mouth with my palm, resisting the urge to laugh.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a...close friend of y/n's." Timothee said, putting an emphasis on the word close that made me bite my lip.

"Wow, I've waited all this time for you to give me a chance y/n and you just take in some twink off the street?"

"Tristain!"

Timothee shrugged, "I've been called worse." Then he leaned in closer, luckily the rest of the restaurant went back to their food and conversations. "Allow me to tell you how the rest of tonight is going to go..." Timothee's gaze hardened and instantly Tristan's eyes glossed over, his mouth hung open, and he was transfixed on Timothee, as if he was being hypnotized. "You're going to get up from here and you're going to leave."

"I was just about to leave, yeah," Tristan said calmly.

"And when you leave, you will not contact y/n again."

"Who?"

"Good, good," Timothee praised and selfishly I wished it was me he was praising instead. Then, he took a fistful of Tristans shirt and pulled him closer, "and if you do," Timothee spoke so softly I could barely hear what he said. "I will kill you myself. And trust me, you don't want to see what kind of death a reaper is capable of."

Tristan nodded and stood up and waved. "Enjoy your meal," he said as he made his way to the door. I watched until he left, waited a few minutes to be sure he wouldn't reappear and turned back around. Timothee was already sitting in his seat.

"Will he be, okay?" I asked.

"You still care about that?"

"I mean I don't want him to die on the way home. He seemed out of it."

"Unfortunately, he'll be fine."

The waiter stopped by and took away Tristan's plate. Timothee nodded politely and focused back on me.

"You don't own me you know," I said, in a voice that should have sounded headstrong but was anything but. As time went on it seemed more and more to me like that's exactly what I wanted. "You're just here to collect my soul."

"Technically, I do. I am sent here to watch you, look over you until your time is up. I am meant to protect you. Though, this situation is unlike one I have ever encountered."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"You should eat," Timothee said, changing the subject. "Eat your dinner, and I'll take you to that movie."

"Okay, but you have to keep talking."

Timothee nodded. Only resuming the conversation once I scooped a bite of lasagna into my mouth.

"Most of the souls, at least everyone I've collected have not been able to see me. I wasn't expecting it to have this type of effect on me."

I swallowed my lasagna hard as he said the words.

"I don't own you. No," he started, then reached out and brushed my hair away from my collar bone. He let his finger graze my birthmark. I shudderd at the touch. "But I'd like to. Very much."

Fuck.

He scooted up, his chest flush against his side of the table and one of knees made their way in between my legs. He dropped a long arm beneath the table and slid his palm up my leg. I dropped my fork. "I wish I could be the blood that traveled through your veins, the air that you breath into your lungs." His index finger grazed my core through my panties and I jumped, hypersensitive to the touch. My plate clanging against the table, my glass tipping over.

"Can we go?" I pleaded.

"Eat your food. All of it."

I started to protest.

"Or do I need to feed it to you?"

I shoveled in the rest of my lasagna and downed my entire diet coke. My skin tingling as Timothee gave me small touches under the table. We walked out moments later, my knees weak. Timothee laced an arm around my waist, holding my up and against him. His temperature freezing against my hot skin. We began walking in the direction of the movie theater, but somehow between soft touches and him pressing his nose into my hair we strayed off the path.

"Look!" I said, pointing to a cemetery. "Let's go in there."

"What about your movie," Timothee called after me.

"It's already 8:35, it's already started."

"I loathe cemeteries," Timothee groaned.

"What!?" I pulled his cold hand into mine and drug him into the foggy gates of the local cemetery. "A grim reaper scared of a graveyard!? This is where the bodies of all those souls you take go!"

"I didn't say I was scared. I just don't like them."

"Why?" I teased. It was getting dark, the cemetery would close soon, but for some reason I felt compelled to go in there. Like I needed to be there. "If you're scared say you're scared." I climbed upon a stone bench next to a large oak tree. Timothee stood in front of me and for the first time I was eye level with him. Then it hit me. "I've got eight days to live." I said it out lout without even meaning to. "Eight days to live and...I've not even gotten the chance to live."

Timothee looked at me and maybe it was because we were eye level for the first time, but it seemed like he really saw me. "If it makes you feel any better," he said, taking my arms and draping them over his shoulders. He circled his around my waist, pulling my closer into him. He ducked his head slightly, running his nose along my chest, stopping at my birth mark. He kissed it lightly causing my back to arch. His touch there felt like dark magic and sin. "I wish it was anyone other than you."

"Why?"

"Because now that I know you exist, I don't want you to cease to."

And before his lips found mine, they hovered there, his cold breath swirling and mixing with my warm breath, becoming too intoxicating for me to pretend I didn't need him now. His lips skated across mine effortlessly, like a dance we'd practiced for eternity. My hands slid into his dark, curly hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist, earning a soft groan from him. He turned us around and sat on the bench. He kissed me like it was the first and last kiss he'd ever have. Like sadness and hope mixed together to form a melancholy war between life and death.

A kiss can change a human life. And that one did.

This has been a Sufferingsouls production

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @roseboysareprettier @onlyenoughiamweird

[shatteredfears-arch]

aLSO all DC muses being added/are already here, which i’m posting bc i don’t have bios posted for all of them so this is a quick rundown. as generally known, the main plotline of this blog is one big universe, but ofc, there are basis for these characters personality traits. And the main verse that is this blog’s verse has a mix of S/nyder and R/eeves, we don’t accept hate to either here. Also technically J/oker 2019. minor comic and other influences but i take what fits into the main world as my wild colorful brain views it (and yes, as an autistic, I view things differently than the non auts who call me names or choose to insult me-- too bad so sad for u tho i’m friends w the block button) 

(obvious content warnings considering the fandom, a lot of these ppl are murderers, one of them considers consent 'optional' canonically, even in her 'good person' phase. some of these people are serial killers. gordon's chill but he's also a cop so that defaultly makes him not great when, like me, you're not white. he's not white either tho, and is trying to fix the issue from the inside, but it's still not a great career. if anyone knows anything abt pamela's backstory, i'm not mentioning it here, but that girl's been through it okay.)

B/rucey Wayne, obvs E/d Nashton, unfortunately, tho he’s technically an NPC/by request H/arvey D/ent, with a different take primarily based on T/elltale, where yknow, he becomes evil whether he’s mutilated or not. stop being gross DC if T/elltale a company owned by gross ppl can do it so can you. H/arley Q/uinn, who’s been here, she’s not an original take she’s based off her og solo run but ppl think ‘oh she’s mean’ means original take when thats LITERALLY WHO SHE WAS BEFORE THEY WATERED HER DOWN TO HEROFY HER I dont accept that arc here. but i'm also not including all the canonical times she's forced consent on others, aka pushing J/oker into sex, breaking into floyd's house and laying naked in his bed and bullying him until he agrees to have sex, pushing ivy into physical contact until ivy agrees no matter how many times they say no. yeah. none of that happens here. but i do recognize it happens in canon, even if the fandom refuses to. al/exis k/aye, aka p/unchline, also a mostly original storyline not entirely following the comics, but idk i think she’s neat du/ella d/ent, aka h/arvey’s bio daughter who he was so disappointed wasn’t twins he chose to ignore entirely, bc even tho i love harv/ey he is a terrible dad. case in point, his daughter’s obsession w villains and calling herself their daughters (she’s been j/okers daughter, ri/ddler’s daughter, etc, her coping mechanism is a piece of work). pre her taking that route tho, but she is presently obsessed with E/dward post TB2022.  floyd la/wton, aka d/eadshot, based on older comics, with hints of ss2016 but not a lot, deffo inspo from jltas and games tho. i will never write fl/oyd x h/arley please never ask me, she literally wouldn’t leave him alone and broke into his house and sat naked in his bed until he’d have sex w her in canon. we’re not doing that here. keep that away from me.  s/ofia f/alcone, carmine’s legitimate daughter and therefore selina’s half sister. inheritor of carmine’s entire criminal bs, but because she wasn’t a player at the time, now has to become a player in the war for head of gotham crime.  jane mo/riarty, technically started as an original interpretation of a moriarty sibling from s/herlock h/olmes, but i plotted and developed a DC plot relating to her in the TB2022 universe, so she’s here now. university professor by day, weaving the web of gotham’s underground criminal schemes by night.  J/ames G/ordon, currently a detective in go/tham, not yet commissioner, trusts batsy entirely but doesn’t let the team know about his affiliation with him. uncle to and eventually adopted father of his niece, b/arbara g/ordon, when his brother and sister in law die in a car crash. 

P/amela I/sley, who is mostly based between older comics (including her runs in the SS) and A/rkhamverse, NOT watering her down the way the comics and shows did to just turn her into ‘har/ley’s girlfriend’ nor will i pretend the canonical interpretation of their ship is somehow healthy when they’ve beaten the shit out of and mentally abused each other to no end. in general if you want a healthy ship, don’t look towards h/arley, and i/vy deserves better, but all in all I am not watering them down for the sake of romance. they’re villains. we can write them as healthily as we can plot if you want, but pamela deserves better than what the comics and that show have done for her. and the fandom as a whole tbh, which is why i love the interpretations i follow over canon 99% of the time. and if you wanna plot/write w any of them lmk and hit me up w a plot if u have one, or if you wanna try and get to a comic point or game point or anything, it can be discussed, but i will not jump into ships w pamela, alexis, or ivy. everyone else is a case by case basis.

anyways here's the new carrd. almost none of the characters mentioned have bios btw that's why i'm posting this here lol.

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

[kinksvt]

requested:

anon: Hello!!! Can you do a junhui fwb w/ fluff at the end?:”)

→ pairing: junhui x reader

✱ genre/warnings: fwb!junhui, rough sex, bit of dirty talk, lotta fluff at the end with a hint of angst

✱ word count: 3,232

a/n: sorry for another long wait! but i hope you enjoy!

Since the moment you and Jun met, you both knew that what your friendship delivered, it wouldn't be close to just friends.

Since the day he went to a party and drunk texted you that he couldn't even focus on the girl that he was trying to hit it and quit it because he wished it was instead you, things would never just be a friendship. After a night of talking that slowly escalated into suggestive texting into straight out dirty talk and more than revealing pictures of the two of you, it changed the way you and Jun would see your so-called "friendship." But of course, neither of you minded so. You both didn't have anyone in your life besides each other, nor any plans for a relationship.

Thus how you two came up with "Y/N and Junhui's Guide to Benefits." In that guide, there were, rules, to keep your "friendship" steady and without any harm.

Rule number one, you cannot sleep with anyone else without knowledge of the other. Because, for your sake at least, you don't want to catch anything from Jun's horny ass trying to bang anyone he can get his hands on.

Rule number two, you cannot act on anything sexual in the bedroom without the other's approval. I.E that time Jun almost broke your ass because he wanted to try anal without telling you which left you sitting on a bag of frozen fries for two days. Yeah, he still sticks with saying that he "could've sworn" he texted you about it and how you said "sure whatever" in response.

Rule number three, you can see other people, but you must tell the other beforehand. Flashback to when a few months ago into your new set boundaries—minus the rules that weren't yet established—Jun had began talking to a girl. Which led to her being suspicious of you two being so close and brought to the conclusion of kicking Jun in the balls and telling him to have fun with his "girlfriend." Even though you were specifically anything but.

Rule number four, no public skin ship, save it for behind the doors. It's bad enough that some of your friends have raised eyebrows at your guys' "relationship," saying that one of you two are bound to fall for the other sooner or later. But you also don't want people to think that you are taken when you both deep down, secretly wish were true.

And lastly, rule number five, if you do begin to fall for the other, say cantaloupe. You weren't sure why Jun settled on cantaloupe but you didn't bother to question his weirdness. For nearly a solid year already, your guys' agreement had gone smooth sailing—for the most part. Aside from only a few arguments and breaks in talking, everything remained steady and fine.

Ding!

[10:17 pm] Junnie: hey babygirl.

It was a Friday night, spent binge watching the rest of your favorite show just like every other day. There were times when Jun had joined you and ended up falling asleep on each other. But you were sure that this wouldn't be one of those days. Jun only called you babygirl when he needed you—hell, he used pet names when he needed you period.

[10:19 pm] You: hii, what's up?

You really didn't need to guess what was up though, you liked to act coy and make him admit to what he really wants.

[10:20 pm] Junnie: mmm i bet u already know baby

[10:20 pm] You: do i??

[10:20 pm] You: are you sure?

[10:20 pm] Junnie: dont act like that baby

[10:21 pm] Junnie: or else.

[10:22 pm] You: but juuuuunnnnnn

[10:22 pm] You: im tiredddd :(((

[10:23 pm] Junnie: thats never been a problem before

[10:23 pm] Junnie: now open the door its cold out here

You rolled your eyes, not surprised that he was already there, basically waiting to ask you to let him in. Sighing, you dropped your phone onto the couch and paused your show—getting up to fulfill Jun's plead. Jun's ears perked up when he heard your footsteps get nearer, the sudden click of the door followed by your face instantly made standing in the cold all worth it.

"Get in here you dork," you said, opening the door and moving out of the way for the tall male to enter.

"Don't have to tell me twice," he replied as he hurried inside, pushing off his jacket and shoes.

You laughed to yourself and made your way back over to your spot on the couch. Unfortunately, you hadn't noticed that your hips had a bit more of a sway to it, making Jun silently and smirk slightly. He watched you like a predator as you sat on the couch. You only wore a sweater and shorts, not bothering to go back to your room to put on joggers to cover your cold legs. But, since you hadn't worn a bra—because why would you need an unbearable underwire sticking into your torso when you could be comfortable—Jun noticed that your nipples slightly protruded from the material. He swallowed and was, thoroughly reminded of the reason why he came here in the first place. When he had taken longer than usual to come over to you, you glanced over at Jun, seeing him standing there and watching you.

"What?" You asked, unknowingly. The conversation you two had merely minutes ago already slipped from your mind, until your eyes traveled a bit far than intended and you were also reminded of why Jun came over. "Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna do something about it? Hm?" You teased him, a smirk toying at the corners of your lips.

Jun chuckled, his voice dangerously low. "I'm not gonna do something about it," was all he responded with, not moving from his spot even an inch. You tilted your head the slightest, knowing he wouldn't not do anything about his hard-on. "You are." Your eyes widened, making Jun smirk and he beckoned you to come to him. Slowly but surely, you walked to where he stood.

You kept your head down until the sound of Jun's fingers snapping captured your attention. His eyes were dark, darker than usual, as he stared into you and his arm moved. His index finger pointed to the floor, asking you silently to get on the floor. You did as he inaudibly asked and got on your knees, looking up at him. "Good girl." He bent down and grabbed your chin, lifting you a bit so he could kiss you.

The kiss was soft but needy at the same time. His tongue didn't waste any time prying its way into your mouth, grazing over your own. You moaned and Jun groaned in response, his cock twitching in his jeans at your sounds. You moved your legs out from under you and Jun got closer. He lowered you to the floor as you two never stopped making out. As soon as your head was on the floor—safely—he broke the kiss and went for your neck. "Ah. Jun,"

He shushed you as he trailed his hot, open-mouthed kisses all around your neck. His cold hand shocked you as it grazed along your hips, going up your torso, underneath your sweater and grabbing onto your breast. "Missed you so much, princess." Jun's voice was muffled as he sucked fresh hickeys onto your collarbone, his hands groping you.

"I- ah!" As you were about to respond, you felt pressure on your clit, a broken moan slipping past your lips. "I know you missed me, baby. I can feel how wet you are already."

You shifted against his touch, "Please Jun, n-no teasing."

He chuckled, "Whatever you want, baby." You lifted your hips as Jun's fingers slipped past the band of your shorts, dragging them down your legs. You sat up and lifted your sweater off of your torso, the cold air hitting your nipples, making you shiver but also get even more wet at the feeling. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." His warm but still cold hands found their way back to your breasts, toying with your nipples.

Leaning into his touch you whined, "Junnie," you whispered.

"Yes baby?" He leaned down to kiss your neck, your hands finding purchase in his hair.

"Please," you breathed, "just fuck me."

Jun groaned, your words sending sensation right down to his cock. "With pleasure," he roughly tugged down your underwear and hastily got out of his jeans. His cock strained against his underwear, cursing you both for being so needy.

If you weren't so turned on, you would've spent the entire night sucking his dick. "Wait," you stopped him as he continued to strip. "Can we move to the couch?"

He laughed and helped you up off the floor. You ran to your requested area as he searched his jean pockets and joined you. "Better, baby?"

"Much."

He leaned down to give you a quick kiss and tore his underwear off. Jun pumped his cock a few times, making your heat clench around nothing. He opened a condom he brought with and rolled it onto his length. "Ready?" Jun asked, his hand settling beside your head on the couch, positioning himself.

You silently nodded and he pushed his cock into your pussy. With a whine, you scratched his back, his girth stretching you in the slightest, but most pleasurable, way. "Fuck, Y/N," he looked down at you, admiring the way you already looked completely wrecked and you two hadn't even started. "God you're so fucking perfect," Jun said as he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back into you, knocking the breath out of your chest.

"J-Jun!" He fucked into you, making your tits bounce with every thrust.

"You feel so good, baby." Jun moaned rather loudly, he threw his head back and relished in the way your walls hugged him. Jun's cock slid in and out of you, hitting all the spots that made you whimper and cry out his name.

You desperately searched for his hand, your eyes squeezed shut from ecstasy. He got the hint and grabbed your hand, your fingers intertwining together. "A-ah, Jun, f-fuck." You squealed, and gripped his hand tightly.

"Hold on baby," he said suddenly. You opened your eyes as he slowed his pace down. Jun grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders and held your thighs. He pulled out all the way this time, your juices exiting your pussy and dripping down onto the couch. "You're dripping for me, Y/N.." he said dreamily as he observed the way your heat began to clench again.

"P-Please, please! Jun, put it back in. I'm begging you." Your nails scraped his thigh, trying to grab it. You felt empty and he hadn’t even been out of you for a minute. You needed him badly.

Jun slapped his cock against you, making you jolt from the action. "So so desperate for me, aren't you?"

You began to get more impatient, "Wen Junhui, if you don't fuck me right now I swear to god I'll-" before you could finish, he granted your wish and rammed into you to the hilt, making you scream out his name. He didn't give you anytime to adjust and only began to fuck you harder, hitting you at a new angle as he held your thighs. You moaned with every movement he made, making you feel pathetic.

"Y/N, I've been so hard for s-so long. I couldn't stop thinking about you and fucking your pussy. Oh my god, f-fucking shit." You felt amazing around him. To Jun, it felt as if he hadn't had sex with you in forever.

"Y-Yes, yes please Jun. Please, h-harder." You breathed, feeling your orgasm building slowly. You glanced down at Jun's cock, shifting in and out of you, the sounds of it making your face flush.

Jun abruptly leaned forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You moved your legs off of his shoulders and wrapped them behind him, wanting to feel him deeper in you. The soft, romantic kiss contrasted against his rough, harsh movements in you, making you get even more turned on. He kissed you gently, his lips like plush pillows against your own. You both breathed heavily through your noses, also cutting in between the kiss to catch your breaths. His tongue mangled with yours, fighting a war he knew he would win. The kiss, his cock moving at such an unbelievable pace made it too much for you, your orgasm building quicker and quicker with each second. "Jun, I'm gonna cum soon." You said against his lips and he whined.

"Me too, baby. Cum with me?" He didn't need a response, with the way you were looking—like a perfect ruined masterpiece—the sounds you made and the way you enveloped his length like you were made for him, he felt his own orgasm approaching as fast as yours. He sat up, never slowing down his movements as his thumb suddenly came into contact with your bundle of nerves.

You screamed, your clit pulsating with pleasure, developing a quick heartbeat. Your vision began to get fuzzy and your hearing getting muffled. The coil in your stomach was getting ready to go off, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. "J-Junnie, I-I'm gonna cum." You managed to tell him.

"Let it go, princess. Cum all over me." His words pushed you over the edge and with a hard clench around his cock, you came. Your walls clamped onto Jun and that was enough for him to cum as well. You both came with a loud moan of each other's names that you half expected to get calls of complaint from. Jun's cum spurted into the condom, his mouth forming a wide 'O,' and sighed contently. You both stayed in your positions, your heavy breathing the only thing audible in the humid room.

After a few short moments, Jun slowly pulled out of you, making you both hiss with sensitivity. He stood up and disappeared somewhere, discarding his soiled condom. He returned with a warm wash rag to clean you up and also all your clothes. "I wasn't too hard on you was I?" You giggled lightly, his hard side long gone with the condom he used.

You shook your head lightly as he wiped your juices off of you and tried his best to soak it up from the couch as well. You both were still naked but he stared into your eyes, making you feel weird. "What?" you questioned self consciously.

Jun didn't say anything, his eyebrows furrowed and he looked sad. "Fuck." He whispered under his breath, hoping you hadn't heard it.

But you did.

"What happened?" You sat up and got on your knees as he handed you your sweater.

He lifted himself off the couch and stepped into his underwear quickly. "Uhm, nothing!" Jun said, throwing his clothes on and beginning to get ready to leave.

"Wh-" you grabbed your own underwear and slipped them on, your eyes locked onto the figure briskly walking to the door. You decided screw the shorts and ran after him, grabbing his wrist. "Jun? What happened? Are you okay? Was.." you trailed off, nervous to ask your next question. "Was it not good?"

Jun faced away from you, eyes locked on the door. You let go of his wrist slowly, your heart hurting for a bit. He never just left after you two had sex, whether it was soft and romantic or rough and hard and lasted forever. Jun and you always stuck by each other, cuddling, eating and sometimes even falling asleep together afterwards. Why was he in such a rush to leave-?

Oh.

Looking down at the floor, you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes. Hesitantly, you asked—afraid of the answer, "Are you, seeing someone?" Jun still didn't budge or say anything.

After a long silence of him arguing with himself, he drew in a deep breath. "Cantaloupe."

Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, recognizing the code word you two settled on, nearly a year ago. "I," you were speechless, you didn't know what to say. Your words were replaced with sand and it made your throat dry.

"I didn't mean to fall for you, Y/N. I didn't think I would but, how could I not?"

"Jun," you began to say before he cut you off.

"No. Let me, let me finish." You nodded in response, even though he still wasn’t facing you.

As if he read your mind, he slowly turned around. "I didn't think I would fall for you Y/N but, god how couldn't I? You're so beautiful and you've put up with me and my bullshit for so long. You even agreed to just being friends with benefits and although I've enjoyed that, very much. I feel like it's not enough for me." Jun felt as if he were going to cry. All the pent up emotions and feelings he's had brewing for you for the last few months were about to spill over. "I love you, Y/N. I-I really do. I look forward to waking up and seeing your texts, I look forward to coming over and seeing your pretty face, but it hurts my heart whenever I see you with anyone else."

A tear slipped its way from the brim of his eye and rolled down his cheek. "I remember when you started dating that Joshua guy and he just totally broke you in a way that I wouldn't wish on my sworn enemy. The way you cried in my arms, Y/N, stabbed my heart and didn't leave my mind for days. It killed me seeing you like that, so broken and hopeless."

You sniffled, your vision becoming a murmur of colors and Jun's figure in front of your main entrance. "Y/N," he shifted closer to you and grabbed your hands. "I am so crazy about you. And I love being your friend but, I want to be more. I've wanted to be more for so long I just, didn't know how to tell you. I want to be here with you and not at home, wondering if you'll change your mind one day and leave me. Or laying in my bed, worrying if you're debating whether or not to stay with me. I want to be yours, Y/N. And I want you to be mine. Please, I love you so much. Without the sex, you're still my best friend and my god, I'm certain that I'm in love with you." You swallowed dryly, your heart stinging in a good way. "What do you say, Y/N? Will you be my girlfriend?"

Smiling, you pulled his hands closer to you and wrapped your arms around his torso. Jun cooed inwardly, his own arms wrapping around your frame. "Yes Jun, of course I will." He smiled like an idiot, squeezing you ever so lightly.

“Thank god because if you said no, this would’ve been awkward for a long time.”

[lillabelle]

you said you're up for it, so... spin the bottle prompt for minachako please! XD join me in rarepair hell again lmao

I’ll gladly descend into rarepair hell with you

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.8k

(Ao3 link)

Spin the bottle was pretty fun. Some of the people that had to kiss each other were so absurd it left half the class shrieking as the poor pair had to kiss in front of everyone. This “bonding exercise” had been Ashido’s idea. She wasn’t brave enough to confess, but if she had the chance to kiss Uraraka, she was going to take it.

The problem was that Uraraka was kissing everyone but Ashido. Everyone cooed and awed when she had to kiss Midoriya, they all giggled and snickered when she kissed Bakugou, one boy whistled when she kissed Yaoyorozu… but by some twisted fate, the bottle never landed on Ashido, and it never landed on Uraraka when Ashido spun.

By the time everyone was bored of the game and trying to decide on something else to play, Ashido was bummed out. Maybe playing spin the bottle wasn’t as a great of an idea as she originally thought, trying to ignore the spikes of jealousy that arose every time Uraraka kissed someone else.

Uraraka was pretty oblivious it seemed, but to Ashido it was clear that several people were interested in her. What if she was interested in one of the people she kissed? She remained red face through every kiss, so if there was a tell, Ashido couldn’t see it. If Uraraka started dating someone because of this game, Ashido would be so upset. Of course if people really liked each other, they end up together regardless if there was a push to get together, but still, she was surprised to how jealous she felt. Ashido knew she was one of the more lively girls in class, known for her upbeat and friendly personality. So to learn she was the jealous type of all things, bothered her.

It must’ve been pretty clear that she was upset because while the others were chatting, Kirishima, who was sitting beside her, picked up on it.

“Didn’t kiss who you wanted?” He asked, nudging Ashido with his elbow.

Ashido shrugged and made a small noise that didn’t really give a clear yes or no, but Kirishima seemed to understand.

“I feel you, I didn’t kiss who I wanted either.”

Ashido mentally went over who kissed who over the game and looked at Kirishima with a frown. “You kissed Bakugou, though.”

“Who said it was Bakugou I wanted to kiss?” Kirishima asked casually, as if his crush wasn’t glaringly obvious. Well, to Ashido it was, or not? What the heck.

“You don’t like Bakugou?”

“Never said that either.”

“Then-” Ashido stopped herself. Right, people could like more than one person at a single time. Just because she was hyper-focused on a single girl didn’t mean everyone else was. “Alright. Who is it then?”

Kirishima just smiled a little. “I’m not telling you.”

“Unbelievable. I’ll figure it out.” Ashido looked over the guys that had played. Bakugou (who was already a confirmed like), Kaminari (they were all in the same group together, so she knew there was nothing going on between them), Tokoyami (…have they even really talked and hung out before?), Sero (Kirishima kissed him during the game) and Midoriya. Out of those boys, Midoriya was the only one Kirishima didn’t kiss. There was a possibility Kirishima liked a girl, but she was pretty certain he was gay. Well, possibly? She should ask later.

“So, it’s Midoriya?”

“Dear lord, that took you barely fifteen seconds.”

Ashido smirked victoriously. “You cannot hide from me!”

“Alright, you know both guys I like. Who are you pining after?” Kirishima pressed, looking over the girls as the argued about what they should play next. “My guess is Tsuyu or Uraraka.”

“Why them?”

“Every time you point out a girl to me, they’re always cute and ‘soft.’ You have a type, is what I’m saying.” Kirishima pointed out, and Ashido found herself nodding. He wasn’t wrong. Uraraka was more than a cute, soft looking girl, though. A girl can be cute as all hell, but it didn’t mean a thing if they had a trash personality. Uraraka was kind while still being competitive and driven to become a hero. It was easy to get along with her, just being around her was calming in a way. Well, at least to Ashido.

Honestly, Ashido could go on for quite awhile about how much she liked Uraraka in the privacy of her own thoughts, but Kirishima kept poking her until she snapped out of her thoughts. “Okay fine, it’s Uraraka.”

Kirishima nodded and smiled. “You two would be cute. Through the power of sunshine personalities and the color pink, you guys would be a sickeningly sweet couple.”

“Could say the same about you and Midoriya. You two would be very sweet.”

Kirishima bit his lip to hold back a smile, looking over at Midoriya. “You think?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

“Hey!” Kaminari waved the two over. “We’re playing never have I ever! You two in?”

“Yeah!”

Games in the common area slowly came to an end once it reached midnight. They didn’t have school since it was Sunday, but none of them were too keen on missing the chance to catch up on sleep. Yaoyorozu was the first to leave, followed by the boys. Uraraka stayed behind to straighten up the room a bit, so Ashido did as well.

After idle chatter, Ashido took her shot at figuring out if Uraraka liked anyone.

“So, you kissed Midoriya,” Ashido said in a teasing tone. Uraraka had confessed to liking Midoriya earlier in the year, but lately her flustered behavior had been fading away. Still, if Uraraka liked anyone Midoriya was her first guess.

“Yeah… I thought I’d be happier about it, if I’m honest.” Uraraka frowned and shrugged. Not like she didn’t care, but more as if she didn’t understand her own feelings. “I would’ve been squealing about it a few months ago.”

Ashido tossed the last pillow back onto the couch. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it! Crushes change.” Well, Ashido hoped so. Not liking Midoriya didn’t equal Uraraka liking her. During a slumber party they had talked about their sexuality, Uraraka had seemed uncertain.

“I’ve honestly just never crushed on a girl or considered dating one… but I’m not against it?” She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “I don’t know. Am I making any sense?”

That had been the first spark of hope Ashido had. Beforehand she had assumed Uraraka was straight.

“I spent so much time liking him I guess I didn’t notice when I stopped,” Uraraka sighed. “At least it doesn’t seem like he likes me. You all said it was pretty obvious, and thinking back I guess so, yeah. But now? I don’t think he likes me.”

Ashido nodded in agreement, she had gotten that feeling to. “Wonder if likes someone else now. Any guesses?” She started to head over to the elevator, hesitating and waiting for Uraraka to follow her. To Ashido’s relief, Uraraka followed and kept up the conversation.

“Not sure? He gets along with everyone he meets and gets easily flustered, so it’s hard to tell if it’s a crush or just him being awkward.” Uraraka shook her head, at least now smiling. “That actually made me jealous a few months ago. Deku’s too friendly for his own good.”

“He’s got one good guy pining after him at least.”

“Todoroki?”

“Actually I was thinking of someone else, but now that you mention it-”

By the end of the conversation, Ashido didn’t even have the slightest hint about whether or not Uraraka liked her, but considering how she just realized she wasn’t crushing on Midoriya anymore, that wasn’t much of a surprise. In a weird way, Ashido was content with this. Sure, she wanted to hold Uraraka’s incredibly soft hands, kiss her, cuddle her, go out on dates, and everything else, but she could wait.

Ashido couldn’t say she regretted waiting. The two girls only got closer as time passed, but it got a little overwhelming at times to realize that this wasn’t a small crush Ashido could get over easily. If Uraraka ended up not liking her back it’d hurt like hell.

At least Kirishima wasn’t doing much better, they shared in their pining and could openly gush to each other.

“Kirishima, I’m so fucking gay!” Ashido groaned. It was after school and she was still in the classroom. Most of the other students had left, including Uraraka, so she had zero restraint when it came to openly talking about her feelings. The good thing about being friends with most of the class is that no one would out her. At this point she was sure that everyone but Uraraka was aware of her crush.

“I realize.”

“Did you see her in hero training today? She kicked Kaminari’s ass! That shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, oh my god.” Ashido had her head down on the desk, face hidden. It’s not like blushing showed all that prominently on her face, but still.

She heard Kirishima laugh, and a second later his hand patted her head. “You should tell Uraraka about how you feel before she overhears.” There was an edge to his voice that probably should’ve warned Ashido, but she didn’t pick up on it.

“Nope. Not today.”

“Why not?”

“What if she doesn’t like me back?”

“You’ll never know if you never confess.”

“I’ll just die instead.” Ashido looked up to meet Kirishima’s eyes and he looked far too amused. “Why confess when I can internalize all my feelings?”

With a snort, Kirishima shook his head in exasperation. “Fair enough.”

When back at the dorms, Uraraka seemed to be avoiding her. Ashido wasn’t sure why, but it was probably nothing. People get busy, it was nothing to worry about… except Ashido was worrying about it a lot and was now panicking. Did she over hear her talking to Kirishima? Ashido saw her leave the classroom, Uraraka would have no reason to come back, right?

Regardless of the reason, Ashido couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had a hard time falling asleep that night, but still couldn’t bring herself to message Uraraka or ask Kirishima if he saw Uraraka enter the classroom again.

After an agonizing school day, everything was surprisingly back to normal. Uraraka was acting a little weird, but wasn’t avoiding Ashido which was a relief.

One thing turned into another, and somehow on a school night, it became a movie night. They all promised Yaoyorozu and Iida that they wouldn’t stay up late. They were going to watch a movie or two before going to bed. Of course, that’s what they said last time and ended up watching The Lord of the Rings movies and that took them all night. This time, though, they were determined to be good.

Soon, students piled up on the couches or laid down on blankets and pillows that were dragged down from their rooms. Ashido was surprised when Uraraka sat down right next to her, after acting weird and all, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. The more people that joined, the more crowded the couches became, and at this point Uraraka and Ashido were practically cuddling due to the forced closeness. Once again, Ashido wasn’t complaining, even if she was overly conscious of her every move.

As the movie went on, Ashido gradually relaxed and could focus on the screen. When Uraraka’s head rested on her shoulder, the focus was immediately broken. Did Uraraka know how much she was making Ashido suffer? Probably not. It wasn’t odd for friends to be cuddly. Ashido was just insanely gay. Taking a small risk, she shifted in her position so one of her arms was around Uraraka. Ashido just about died when she leaned more into her.

This was totally fine, except now Ashido wanted to blurt out her feelings. Seeing how they were surrounded by their classmates, now would be an awful time. It was the first time Ashido had actually been tempted to confess, so she hoped that her courage wouldn’t run out by the time the movie was over.

When the movie ended, it didn’t matter if Ashido had the courage to confess or not, because Uraraka had fallen asleep. The others didn’t think much of it as they decided on one last movie to watch, but Kirishima looked over at her with a knowing smile.

He mouthed the words, be strong.

Easier said than done.

The next movie came on, and Ashido hoped that she’d actually managed to focus on this one. At one point Uraraka woke up and moved to make herself more comfortable before falling back asleep. That more comfortable position had her practically on Ashido’s lap and face closer to her neck. With every exhale, Ashido felt Uraraka’s breath against her neck. Apparently Ashido would have a hard time paying attention to the second movie as well.

The second movie came to an end and Uraraka was still out. Ashido couldn’t find it in herself to wake the girl up, and remained where she was. That got the others attention when Ashido didn’t move as the others gathered up their blankets and blankets to go to bed.

“Ashido, your gay is showing,” Kaminari snickered, sympathetically patting her arm as he passed.

“I realize.”

A few of the others made teasing comments before they left and Kirishima gave Ashido a thumbs up. They were ridiculous. It’s not like this is the first time two people have fallen asleep on the couch together. Of course almost the entire class was aware of how Ashido felt about Uraraka, but that’s besides the point. There was nothing weird about this. Just two friends cuddling on a couch.

The next morning, Uraraka was the one to wake up first. When she sat up, it woke Ashido up with a jolt.

“Oh, sorry,” Uraraka yawned, standing up and stretching. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ashido rubbed at her eyes, willing them to stop being so blurry. When they focused, Uraraka just finished stretching and stood next to the couch awkwardly. She looked embarrassed and like she had something to say, but she walked off after a moment.

Ashido looked at her walking away for moment before she remembered that she had something to say. The need to confess was still there. Ashido was still scared as all hell, she didn’t want to be rejected. At the same time, though, having Uraraka cuddled up to her all night gave her some hope that maybe her feelings were requited.

“U-um, Uraraka,” Ashido called after her, rushing to stand up. The sudden movement made her dizzy after laying down for so long, but she remained steady on her feet.

Uraraka paused and turned around, giving Ashido a questioning look.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you that, um.” Suddenly all her confidence was gone and getting out the words became increasingly difficult. “It’s that I, um. You see-”

Despite her stammering words, what she was going to say must’ve been pretty obvious seeing how Uraraka started to blush.

“I already know.”

“What?”

Uraraka’s face was now bright red. “I heard you the other day talking to Kirishima.”

Oh god. Kirishima totally knew! That asshole!

“And, um, I’ve been trying to think of a way to tell you that I know, but, aaaaah I don’t know.” Uraraka rubbed the back of her head in an anxious way. “I already know you like me, but for some reason it’s hard to say it back.”

“Oh thank god,” Ashido sighed heavily, all the tension leaving her body at once, “I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you didn’t like me back.”

With both girls stammering, the next few minutes were spent with painfully awkward words. It only got worse when the others came downstairs to make breakfast. Teasing was unavoidable, leaving both girls embarrassed.

The others couldn’t tease and get an embarrassed reaction from both girls for too long, at least. Within a few days, they settled insanely fast into their new relationship. The transition from close friends to girlfriends was an easy one. Of course, they still got flustered over firsts. Their first kiss was wisely away from any of their friends.

It was nice, being able to kiss Uraraka without trying to use the premise of a game. Only, she accidentally let that fun fact slip and Uraraka found it hilarious.

“You tried using spin the bottle to kiss me?” Uraraka nose was scrunched up, trying not to laugh at her girlfriend.

“Maybe. Yes. Shut up.” Ashido ducked her head and looked off to the side.

“I kissed literally everyone but you.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry.” Uraraka finally couldn’t hide a snort of laughter and she threw her arm around Ashido’s shoulder to pull the girl closer. “Looking back on everything, it was pretty obvious you liked me.”

Ashido sighed and leaned into Uraraka, smiling. “I was, but it’s fine.” She pressed a kiss into Uraraka’s cheek. “Glad you realized you weren’t straight.”

That got another laugh out of Uraraka. “Glad I realized I wasn’t straight too.” Uraraka’s armed tightened around Ashido and she kissed the top of her head.

It might’ve taken several months of silently pining and then awkwardly confessing to get to this point, but Ashido couldn’t say she was upset with how things turned out.

(Hey! I run a BNHA Femslash discord server! It’s not the same wlw servers that have been advertised in tags~ If you have any questions or concerns before you join, feel free to message me/send in an ask! If not, hope to see you there