#they should’ve kissed during the final battle

[ryuksjn]

i cant believe reijean only exists in my head

[shadowwfoxx]

Eddie's Vest

18+

(reader x steve harrington)

You and Steve were currently in his car on the way to his house. Today was probably one of the scariest days of your life. With Steve getting dragged underwater and almost killed by a demon bat, it was safe to say today made the top 3 most scariest days of your life. The roads were quiet, practically no one else around. You kept glancing over at Steve making sure he was ok. 

You had offered to drive due to his injuries, however, he was more worried about your “severe” injuries (a few scratches). His eyebrows were furrowed as he was focusing on the road. He had one hand on the wheel, while his other arm was bent, leaving his elbow to rest where the window was rolled down. The shadows from the moon brought out how toned and muscular they were. You move your eyes further down to his chest. 

His chest hair was exposed because of the vest Eddie left him (which you’ll thank him later for). That vest had been distracting you all day. Constantly catching glances and staring for too long. You really couldn’t help it, he just looked insanely hot doing anything with it on. The big white bandage on his stomach brought you back from your ogling. Steve felt your stare, knowing already what you were looking at. He turned to you. 

“Hey,” He said as he put his hand on your bare thigh. You look away quickly, looking down at your fingers. “I’m gonna be just fine ok, don’t worry.” He said softly. His big brown eyes going between your face and the road.

You bite your lip as you shake your head. “I should’ve done more to stop you, you should have never swam down there by yourself.” Now feeling angry at yourself and Steve for being so stubborn.

“I’m still here baby I-“ 

You snap your head to look at him. “What if something horrible happened to you? Huh? What then?” Your tone was firm and loud. Your look was half angry and half sad. Your emotions are all over the place at this point. Steve notices your look. 

You both know that you wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He understands your concern and worries for him, but someone had to do it. You both stare at each other for a bit before Steve sighs and looks back at the road, too tired to feed into your lecture. You huff at his silence before looking out your window. You move your legs to face the car door, shrugging Steve’s hand off in the process. 

“Seriously babe? Can we not do this right now” Steve says. You can hear the slight irritation in his voice. You both know there is no hatred around the words and actions, rather this lecture is out of pure love. You love Steve and Steve loves you. Had anything happened to him today, you would never be able to forgive yourself.

Your anger towards yourself is being taken out on him. Not to mention your fear of what’s to come with battling the Upside Down. You’re so focused on your thoughts that you don’t even feel the tears escape your eyes. Your sniffling caught Steve’s attention. As he looks over at you, his face softens.

“Oh baby don’t cry.” His voice is soft and comforting. He grabs one of your hands and brings it towards his face. He brings it to his lips and gives the back of your hand a few sweet kisses before he rubs your hand on the side of his face.

You peer out the window, noticing Steve turning to pull into an empty parking lot. He parks the car and lets go of your hand. He then pushes his seat back, away from the steering wheel. 

Steve reaches his hand over to pet your hair before putting it behind your ear. You finally turn your head to face him, your lip trembling, your eyes a little red. Your face breaks his heart.

“Please let me hold you.” He begs. That was enough for you to climb over the middle and straddle him, being very cautious of his injury. You wrap your arms around his neck, immediately sighing in relief. Steve immediately wraps his big arms around your shoulders and lower back. You two have not stopped for a second during this chaos to even give each other a much-needed hug. You both fell into a long and comfortable silence, matching each other’s breathing patterns. 

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He says in almost a whisper. He rubs your back soothingly. 

“It was so scary,” you’re voice cracks. 

“I know baby, I know.” He says as he hugs you tighter. He presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“I don’t want any more people to get hurt, I just want it to be over with.” If anyone can understand your stress right now it’s Steve. He just wants to be able to live a normal life with you. Without these dangerous missions and having to constantly look over his shoulders. He knows how exhausted you are from having constant nightmares and how you let your overthinking thoughts take over. Steve grabs your face with his hands and moves your face to face his. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you okay? We are gonna get through this.” You look away from his gaze with a slight pout. Steve brings you in for a kiss. 

“Turn off that pretty brain of yours ok? Just relax for me.” He goes back in for a kiss, this time it’s longer and deeper. It’s the kinda kiss that can make you go dumb. The kiss starts to get faster, all that can be heard is heavy breathing. The energy in the car shifted so quickly. He pulls away and leans back against the seat while you lean the opposite way, your arms holding onto his knees to stabilize. 

You both look at each other up and down. Steve now getting an idea of how to distract you from your thoughts. He leans up, wrapping his hand around your neck, and smashes your lips back into his making you whine. Steve moves down from your lips to your throat, kissing that spot that turns you into putty. You let out a breathy moan.

“I like that vest on you.” You say. Steve lets out a breathy laugh against your neck. “You look hot in it.”  

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles against your neck. Steve’s hands move to your hips, grinding your hips against his cock that is now hard. Steve goes back to roughly making out with you. This goes on for a bit before Steve reaches a hand under your skirt and lace panties to feel you. 

“You must really love this vest.” You’re practically soaking now. You moan at the contact finally getting some relief. You felt yourself getting wetter with each touch. He continues his circular motions before moving his fingers towards your wet opening. He starts off with one finger. The contact making you instinctively lift up. 

“Relax for me baby,” He whispers in your ear. You lean yourself back into the position you were in before, making you feel more exposed to him even though your clothes are still on.

“Fuck your so wet.” He goes in with a second finger, thrusting them deeper and faster. You roll your head back, moaning. Steve’s other hand gripping at your hip to steady you. He then adds a third finger and uses his thumb to brush other your clit. This makes your hips buck up and grind against his hand.

“Oh fuck- Steve” you moan louder. You look down at where everything is happening. Your skirt drapes perfectly over the dirty scene below you. You bunch up the bottom of your skirt together and hold it up reveal the not so pure actions happening underneath it. 

“Oh shit honey that’s so fucking hot” Steve chuckles, quickening the pace of his fingers. A squelching noise now echoes throughout his car. You clench around his fingers. So close to your climax. He brings the hand that was gripping your hip to your mouth. Steve rubs his thumb over your lips. You immediately wrap your lips around it, moaning as you swirl your tongue around it. 

“Fuck baby come for me.” Steve says, eyes stuck on your mouth. You moan around his finger. He continues his fast and hard pace to help you ride out your high. 

After you come down from your high, he removes his fingers and brings them to his lips. He moans at your taste.  Now impatient, he quickly lifts his body to remove his pants and underwear. His hard cock slaps at his stomach. His tip was red, dripping with pre cum. You lift yourself up on your knees while Steve lines himself up with you. You lower yourself down on him, catching his tip before sinking down on him. You both gasp at the contact. There was barely any pain as Steve worked you up well. Once you’re fully seated on his cock, you take a minute to compose yourself. 

“Fuck your so big.” You whine as you shove your face in the crook of his neck. You and Steve have had sex manyyyy times, but there’s no denying how heavy and big he always feels inside of you. Steve’s hands find their place on your hips squeezing tightly.

Once you get used to his size, you begin to lift up and sink back down. You go slow, still cautious of his injury. But Steve needs more. He loves how caring you are and how you’re trying not to hurt him but he can’t wait any longer. Steve reaches over to pull the lever of the seat to lower it more. He then plants his feet on a higher platform and starts thrusting up into you and hard. 

“O-oh shhitt”. You let out a high pitch moan. Steve wraps his hand around your throat. 

“Yea? You like when I fuck you hard like that? Fuck all of those bad thoughts out of that pretty head of yours? Hm?” He literally growls at you. You feel hot all over now. You brace yourself on the arm rest. Your mind goes completely blank now, only thing you can process is how good he’s fucking you.

“L-love it. I love it Stevie please.” You moan. Both of your eyes are hooded, completely fucked out as you stare into each other’s eyes. You feel his big, hairy thighs slapping a the back of yours. He starts hitting that sweet spot inside of you causing you to roll your eyes back. You clench hard around him.

“Oh fuck baby do that again-shit.” He says as he throws his head back. You clench around him again. He groans a bunch of curse words as he reaches under you to start giving attention to your clit. 

“Oh fuck I’m gonna come please please-oh shit." You can’t even control what comes out of your mouth anymore. Whining and babbling pleads. Your mind feels like mush at this point. You’re overwhelmed with all of the different sensations. 

“Yea you gonna make a mess all over my cock? Come on pretty girl come for me.” Your second orgasm hits you hard, legs jerking on either side of him. Your pussy milking around his cock, practically begging him to release inside of you. Steve’s thrust becomes sloppy, signaling he’s close.

“Please Steve fill me up, fill me up so deep please.” That pushes Steve over the edge. His grip around your body tightens, bringing you chest to chest. He fills your ear with groans as you feel his cum fill you up. He gave you one final thrust before stilling inside of you. You both relax against each other, taking a moment to catch your breaths. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“Remind me to thank Eddie for this vest.”

[hoshifighting]

so I had this idea about switch!joshua

idk why but I kinda have this fantasy in my head about Joshua and his partner having a power play during sex. they keep tryna a dom each other but they also enjoy being each others sub yk

could you write sth like this? I would love to read it :]

— Synopsis: You and Joshua both have strong personalities, resulting in power play whenever you're having sex. It's like witnessing a battle to see who can assert their dominance over the other. — WC: 2k — WARNINGS: Smut, power play, switch!reader&joshua, bickering, overstimulation, sex toys - (vibrator, handcuffs, blindfold), bondage, sensory deprivation, penetrative sex, degradation, clit stimulation, choking, face slapping, the fight for power.

the first time you met joshua, it was like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. his confident, almost arrogant smile was mirrored by your own stubborn determination. you could tell right away that this was a man who was used to being in control, someone who thrived on dominance. and, ironically, that was the exact reason you were drawn to him.

you never asked about joshua’s past relationships. honestly, you didn’t want to know. you liked the mystery, the untold stories that lingered in his eyes. but one thing was clear: you were the first to challenge him, to refuse to let him take the lead without a fight.

the first time you had sex, it was a battle. every touch was a negotiation, every kiss a test of wills.

joshua, so accustomed to being the dominant force, found himself facing someone who was just as strong, just as determined. it took him a while to process it, to wrap his mind around the idea that he wasn’t the only one in control.

afterward, you lay next to each other, breathless and sweaty. the silence was heavy with unspoken words. finally, joshua turned to you, his eyes searching yours.

“so,” he began, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “this is new.”

you laughed, a light, airy sound that filled the room. “you didn’t think i’d just roll over and let you take charge, did you?”

“i was hoping,” he admitted, his smile widening. “but i guess i should’ve known better.”

today was one of those days where neither of you was willing to give up control. joshua’s hands were cuffed above his head, muscles straining against the restraints as you teased his swollen cock with a feather. his abdomen tightened with every agonizing brush, and his frustrated moans echoed through the room.

“you’re enjoying this way too much,” he groaned, his voice tinged with a compound of irritation and arousal. outside these four walls, joshua was a sweetheart, but here, he was your plaything.

you got up to retrieve a vibrator from your drawer, enjoying the sight of him writhing, desperate for more. the moment you turned your back, you heard the click of the handcuffs. spinning around, you saw joshua ripping the blindfold from his face, with a dark grimace.

“oh, fuck,” you muttered, knowing you were in trouble as he strode toward you with large, purposeful steps.

he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing you against the dresser and pinning your arms to your chest. “you don’t think you’ve teased me enough?” he growled through gritted teeth, his breath hot against your ear.

“you can’t handle a little feather?” you taunted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “poor baby.”

joshua’s response was a low, dangerous growl. he yanked your head back by your hair, forcing your neck to arch painfully. “you like pushing me, don’t you?” he snarled. “you’re nothing but a slut who loves to be put in her place.”

you grunted at the sharp pain, feeling his cock slide inside you all at once. your legs threatened to give out, but joshua held you steady. “steady yourself, slut,” he commanded, his voice harsh and unyielding.

you had no choice but to comply. one hand escaped to brace yourself on the dresser, your moans strangled by the way he pulled your hair. despite your frustration at his breaking the rules, you couldn’t deny how much you loved being railed by him, being his pathetic slut. just as much as he loved being your toy when you needed it.

he pressed himself deeper, your balance faltering as your chest hit the dresser. the vibrator in your hand buzzed to life, and you cursed yourself for letting it slip. joshua paused, the sound catching his attention.

“well, well,” he teased, taking the vibrator from you. “look at you, thinking you could use this on me. what a desperate little whore you are.”

he turned the vibrator to its highest setting, the buzz loud and threatening. “no,” you pleaded, shaking your head. “please, joshua—”

“you don’t get to beg,” he interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. “you’re just a slut who takes what she’s given.”

his cock stretched you, the burn from your unpreparedness mixing with the relentless throb of your heartbeat. when joshua turned the vibrator to its maximum setting, you gulped, knowing exactly where he intended to place it. your eyes widened in panic.

he lowered the buzzing device until it reached your clit, and you screamed, grabbing his forearm, your nails sinking painfully into his skin. the intense pleasure made him groan, your tightness around his cock almost causing him to lose his balance.

your clit felt like it was on fire, tears springing to your eyes. joshua started to move, thrusting into you with a new fervor, amplifying the overwhelming sensations. another scream tore from your throat as you whimpered, "josh, josh..."

as joshua's grip on your arm loosened, you felt your body slowly disassembling against the dresser. each movement seemed to send new shocks of sensation through you, your heightened sensitivity turning every touch into an electric charge. joshua didn’t seem to notice your extra-sensitive state, his focus entirely on his own pleasure.

you were torn, debating whether to let the knot inside you unravel and risk overstimulation or try to hold back and risk edging yourself too much. but as you wrestled with your thoughts, the decision was made for you. you felt the wave cresting, and with a sob, you realized you were cumming.

your sobs echoed off the furniture, a raw sound that combined with the rhythmic slap of joshua’s thrusts. his cock split you open, and you felt yourself dripping onto the wooden floor, the vibrator splashing the proof of your orgasm everywhere.

he resumed his thrusts, slower now, more calculated, each stir developed to push you further into overstimulation. the vibrator’s relentless buzz against your clit was torture, and you cried out, your body fluttering with the power of it all.

“please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “i can’t… i can’t take it.”

joshua leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “oh, but you will,” he whispered. “you’ll take it, and you’ll love it, won’t you?”

you sobbed, your body betraying you as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, your legs buckling. “joshua, please…”

his grip on your hips tightened, and he pushed deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars. “you’re such a good girl,” he taunted. “look at you, falling apart just for me.”

your nails scraped against the wood of the dresser, leaving marks as you clung to it for support. “i’m… i’m cumming again,” you gasped, tears streaming down your face.

“good,” he growled, thrusting harder. “cum for me, show me how much you love it.”

your body obeyed, another orgasm ripping through you, leaving you a trembling, sobbing mess. 

everything started to feel like too much—the relentless vibrator, joshua’s tight embrace, his cock buried deep inside you, his overwhelming presence. it was suffocating, and in a moment of clarity through the haze of overstimulation, you felt a surge of strength. you needed to take charge.

your spasms gave you the energy to pry his forearm away, sending the vibrator flying across the room. it stopped buzzing the moment it hit the ground, and you didn’t care if it was broken. you turned joshua around, pushing him onto the bed and straddling him, your hand finding his throat. you pressed your fingers into either side of his neck, watching his breath hitch and his eyes widen in surprise and pleasure.

a nasty smile spread across his face, taunting you. you slapped him hard, his head snapping to the side. when he turned back to face you, his grin was even wider.

you knew. he loved it when you lost control, when you took what you wanted. this was how the two of you thrived—fire and fire, clashing and igniting.

“you think this is funny?” you hissed, your voice low and dangerous. “i’m going to wipe that grin off your face.”

joshua’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “is that so?” he taunted, his voice rough with anticipation.

you tightened your grip on his throat, leaning in close. “you’re going to beg for mercy,” you whispered fiercely. “i’m going to ruin you.”

his breath hitched again, his smile faltering slightly. “do your worst,” he challenged, his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t need another invitation.

you moved with intent, your hand slipping from his throat to his jaw, forcing him to look up at you. your other hand trailed down his chest, nails scraping lightly, leaving red lines in their wake. joshua’s breathing grew ragged, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you like this, don’t you?” you murmured, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin. “being at my mercy?”

“yes,” he gasped, his voice strained. “i love it.”

you leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. “good,” you whispered. “because i’m just getting started.”

you shifted your hips, taking him inside you again, but this time you were in control. you rode him with an enthusiasm that surprised even you. 

you set the pace, slow and willful, driving him wild with every move. joshua’s hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort to keep still.

his hands gripped your hips, trying to match your rhythm, but you swatted them away.

“no touching,” you commanded. “you don’t get to touch until i say so.”

he groaned in frustration, his head pressing back into the mattress. “please,” he begged, his voice strained. “let me touch you.”

you leaned down, your lips hovering over his. “not yet,” you murmured. “not until i see that smile disappear.”

you increased your pace, your movements becoming more inconsistent, more desperate. his face contorted with pleasure, his cock twitching inside you. you knew he was close, and you wanted to push him over the border.

“beg for it,” you commanded, your voice firm.

“please,” he moaned, his hips bucking up involuntarily. “please, y/n.”

you slapped him again, the sound echoing in the room. “louder,” you demanded.

“please!” he cried out, his voice desperate. “please, i need it.”

a triumphant smile spread across your face. “that’s better,” you purred, increasing your pace, your movements more forceful. “you’re mine, joshua. all mine.”

“yes,” he panted, his eyes wild with submission. “all yours.”

you felt the power surge through you, the thrill of being in control. joshua’s moans filled the room, his body trembling beneath you. you rode him harder, pushing him to the edge, watching as his composure crumbled.

“cum for me,” you ordered, “now.”

with a final, desperate cry, joshua followed, his body convulsing as he came. you watched him, your eyes never leaving his, taking in every moment of his surrender.

joshua doesn't know exactly how much time he spends trying to catch his breath with his eyes closed. how do you do this? he had you overstimulated, railing you on the dresser, yet somehow you still ended up defeating him on the bed. 

every. single. time, he was amazed. amazed by how much of a freak you were, and how much he loved being your sub

he's pulled out of his thoughts when you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around you. your skin is still damp, and you leave a faint trail of steam in your wake. you glance at him, still sprawled out on the bed in the same position you left him.

"i've won this time too?" you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

joshua opens his eyes and watches you walk, noticing the funny, slightly limping gait you have now. he scoffs, a smirk playing on his lips. "do you think so?"

you pause, one hand on your hip, and arch an eyebrow. "well, i did end up on top, didn’t i?"

he laughs softly, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. "only because i let you."

"sure, keep telling yourself that," you retort, walking over to the bed. 

he props himself up on his elbows, his eyes never leaving you. “and you’re barely able to walk straight. who’s the real winner here?”

“still me,” you say, leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. “because i always end up on top.”

"you know," he murmurs, "one of these days, i'm going to turn the tables on you."

you scoff, nestling against him, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "i'd like to see you try."

[starjedi86]

Taking care of you

Summary: Hunter blames himself for not being able to protect you.

Pairing: Hunter x female reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 965

Authors Note: In honor of season 3 airing today, here’s my first fic for the bad batch. I hope you enjoy it!

The air in the small medical bay was heavy with tension as Hunter anxiously awaited news about you, his girlfriend and the mechanic of his squad. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by guilt over the accident that had left you injured.

You and the rest of the members of Clone Force 99 were on a mission, as usual during the Clone Wars. However, this time, due to the lack of communication, the battle intensified, leading to your fall from a great height.

In the shock of the situation, you weren’t sure if your ankle was broken. During the rest of the battle, Hunter helped you and kept you safe. When it ended, you were in so much pain that Hunter thought it was best to return to Coruscant for a medical check with all the necessary equipment.

As the leader of his squad, he felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, blaming himself for not having protected you better.

He was lost in his thoughts when the medical staff informed him that you were awake and he could visit your room. Without hesitation he walked inside.

The door slid open, and there you were, lying in a bed with a reassuring smile. Despite the bandage wrapped around your ankle, your eyes sparkled with warmth as you met his gaze. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of reassurance and warmth. You knew him so well that you already knew he was blaming himself, so you did your best to reassured him. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay.”

Hunter’s shoulders dropped with relief at the sight of you, but the guilt still weighed on him. “I can’t help but feel responsible for this,” he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve been more careful, should have protected you better.”

But you shook your head, your expression softening with understanding. “Hey, accidents happen,” you reassured him, your tone gentle. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. What matters is that we’re a team, and we look out for each other.“

Hunter’s heart swelled with gratitude at your words, he couldn’t help but love you even more. Despite the chaos of war, he knew that you were one of the few people who could comfort him and make him better. Stepping closer to your bed, he reached out to gently hold your hand and intertwine your fingers with his, his touch was gentle as if you were a delicate flower.

“Thank you, cyare,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “You don’t have to thank me love.“ you whispered back, your eyes filled with love towards him.

As you stayed there, Hunter couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into the gentle touch.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes met, filled with love for each other. "I won't let anything happen to you, cyare," Hunter promised, his voice filled with determination.

"I know," you replied, your voice filled with trust and love towards him.

You stayed there, chatting about various things as you waited to be discharged. When the doctors informed you that you were ready to leave, Hunter offered to take you to your apartment. The journey was quiet but relaxing after all the stress you both had.

Upon arriving at your apartment, Hunter gently guided you to your bed, propping your foot up on a pillow and ensuring your comfort before taking a seat beside you. You could see a mixture of concern and affection in his expression.

“Is there anything else you need? Pain medication, water, food, maybe a blanket?” he asked, his voice affectionate toward you.

You shook your head, managing a small smile on your lips. “I’m okay for now, love. I’m glad to be back home, at least for a couple of days.” you replied softly, grateful for his caring attitude.

Hunter nodded, but the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe, cyare” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Reaching out, you gentle grabbed his hand and caressed the back of it with your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, your touch offering a sense of calm. “We’ll get through this, honey, just like always.”

Hunter’s gaze softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You returned his smile, grateful to have him by your side. “Always together, remember?”

Feeling a wave of gratitude, love and affection toward you, Hunter leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, being careful with your injured ankle. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head into his chest, feeling the soft sound of his heartbeat.

Pulling back slightly, Hunter looked at you, a soft smile curving around his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer, relieved to have you by his side.

As you cuddled together, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling his soft and gentle touch over your palm. “I’m lucky to have you.” you whispered, your voice filled with admiration toward him.

Hunter’s eyes softened at your words, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “And I’m lucky to have you,” he replied sincerely, his voice filled with warmth.

As you looked at each other, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Hunter gently placed his forehead against yours. You’ll definitely always be there for him and he for you.

[winterzsurprise]

False God || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f! reader

Summary: Once again, you end up pinned underneath Miguel whose annoying smile flourished the butterflies in your stomach.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, allusions to orgasm denials, gym sex, friends with benefit, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), one sided love, cunnilingus, angst(?), multiple orgasms, overstimulation.

Words: 1.7k

I am so sleepy but I have school. Managed to sneak this request during this hell week, I'm gonna try to make the other as soon as I can. Thank you for all your support, nearly 1k followers omg and thank you @path0logicalpeoplepleaser for your request and support again o/

hermosa - beautiful || cariño - darling

When you were first handed the invitation to join the spiderhub in the form of a heavy watch with a technology leagues far from your world, you were promised plenty of things. Knowledge, experience, adventure and connections with the other spider-people there are in the vast multiverse.

Being a free spirited soul, finally escaping the tiring cycle of taking down the same old villains terrorizing your city, you were ecstatic. Sure, you might face them once more just a different version but it was an option you’d take in a heartbeat. The challenge of different time periods and technology advancement gave you anticipation thrumming once more under your skin.

If it wasn’t for this, you would’ve quit being a spider.

But out of all the things you’ve expected when you entered the society, becoming enamored with someone so nonchalant and stoic as Miguel O’hara, the head of the operation, was not on your bingo card.

Him being your boss should’ve been the first warning but in the heat of passion and sweat and being pinned under him after growing frustrated from your lack of progress in battle training, you succumbed to the pressure of tension fogging your senses. 

You blame him for everything.

He shouldn’t have reciprocated your kiss, shouldn’t have held you so sweetly despite his callous actions that day. If he hadn’t, maybe you wouldn’t be left in a situationship where you’re his sole outlet of frustration when work becomes unbearable and the pressure of being the leader of an organization is as huge as the spider hub gets to him.

If he doesn’t stir you so well with pleasure then you wouldn’t have been as attached to him as you are right now.

Pleasure struck your spine when his tongue found your clit, rolling it in tight figures of eight. You could feel his gaze burn through your skull while you withered and arched as he coaxed another orgasm out of you.

You can’t remember how you ended up beneath him once more, pinned and eaten out like there’s no tomorrow. You don’t even wanna bother counting how long it has been but with the way your legs trembled violently on his shoulders with every swirl of his tongue along with the pinpricks of pain shooting through you, it must’ve been an hour of constant decline already.

“Fu-fuck, please just fucking give it to me.”

One moment, he was teaching you the basics of some martial arts you couldn't bother to remember, the next, your legs are open and resting on his broad shoulders, bare as the day you were born out in the training quarters he ordered Layla to close down.

Why he initiated it? You've yet to know.

Miguel halts, tearing you away from your withheld orgasm to your absolute despair. But before a frustrated groan could leave your throat, a firm slap on your thigh stops it.

"So impatient, hermosa. It wouldn't hurt to ask me politely for it."

You’ve heard him call you beautiful plenty of times the whole time and it always awakens the butterflies in your stomach. He’s annoying and you like it.

He infuriates you to the brim with that smirk of his, yet you couldn't find it in you to leave him and his promises of ecstasy. His mouth is a drug intoxicating your blood and poisoning you fully, as does his body and touch. As if hypnotized, you couldn’t help but cling to him like he’s the salvation in middle of the chaos.

"Miguel, please? I'll be good, I promise!"

He said nothing, eyeing you with a blank stare before running his lithe fingers between your folds before finding your clit once more, sending delicious jolts down your spine.

Your muscles burned with exhaustion and aches from lack of use as it hitched onto his shoulders and his arms winded around your thighs, stapling you onto place with no other option but to absorb every thrill of ecstasy his fingers gave you.

"Can't really deny such a sweet request, can I?"

Miguel spreads your folds open before tracing down, intentionally dodging your throbbing clit and towards your leaking entrance and dragging his fingers up above your bundle of nerves. 

The ache in your core grew with every tantalizing second spent under his torture, seeing the challenging shimmer in his dilated pupils, you had the mind to reach down to finish the job yourself but before you could, his large hand swiftly took yours and pinned them beside your waist.

You groaned, frustrated from his teasing and he chuckled. Traitorously, your heart skipped a beat, cheeks turning a shade deeper.

You couldn't believe that even in the midst of the frustration and lust, you found yourself growing enamored by him.

Each ghosting nudge of his fingers against your clit only urges more of your arousal to flood out of you. The ringed muscles pathetically contracting around nothing. You could only mew as he drenched his digits in your wetness, desire burned your chest and stirred your nerve endings awake.

Thick, filmy ropes of arousal clung to his digits as he pulled away. The strings pulled thin as he spread his digits and your body grew hot, flustered by the sight.

“Look at how wet you are for me, hermosa.” 

The glee in his voice was unmistakable, this bastard. His tongue darts out to twirl over his digits before wrapping his plump lips around them. Your breath hitches as you watch him lick your arousal away from his hand so erotically. His dilated eyes never straying as it stares back at you, sending a pleasurable jolt down your back.

Without warning, he licks a broad line through your folds, and your back arches. From the hood of your clit, all the way down to your clenching hole before going back up and you gasped as ecstasy crawled down to your toes. 

A groan rumbled his chest as he mouths at your folds like he was making out with it, tongue lithe as it flickered. Every lick reawakens the withered orgasm waiting at the tip of your tongue.

Your hands shoot to his head, fingers threading through his luscious locks before pulling him closer as your hips twitched closer to his tongue.

His gaze flicked up to you through his eyelashes, pupils dilated to the nines, barely leaving any red with how much lust and hunger has clouded it. Seeing your effect on him knocks your breath out of your lungs while a miniscule part of you rejoices with hope.

A hope that there’s something more outside of this stupid encounter of yours.

"Fuck..! Please, I need more." 

Prickles of heat spike over your skin, blood boiling as he traced the trembling rim in languid strokes.

Pressure builds up in your abdomen as you grow dizzy from the stimulation, the declined orgasms from earlier now accumulating into the mass now weighing on your stomach.

It feels like too much yet your greed convinced you that it's not enough.

“Fuck… more please.” You begged weakly, eyes fluttering as his tongue lashed on your bundle of nerves, lulling your hips to rock onto his face. 

Miguel relents, finally growing generous. His large arms wrapped around your thighs before pulling you flush to him as his tongue grew relentlessly on your clit and your mind blanks.

His fingers breached your walls without any restriction, practically gliding in. He wasted no time in building up a savage pace, plunging three inside of you with no regard for your comfort. Digits repeatedly poking your spot, curling just right, feeding into the mass growing and weighting your core.

“Miguel, just fucking do it, you bastard! Just fuck me already!”

His reaction is immediate. In a flicker, he had you on your stomach with your head pinned to the mat and ass up.

"So fucking annoying."

The loss of build up never faded as his digits were replaced by his dick, burying himself to the hilt but instead, it inflated into unreachable heights in one single push and you cry.

It didn’t take long before your orgasm boiled your entire body from the inside, lighting every nerve endings alight as blood rushed to your head in white flashes while your legs went numb as it trembled. The onslaught of pleasure attacking your insides felt too much yet felt so good.

The tug of war waging inside you drove you to insanity, the pain of overstimulation pinpricks your muscles yet the absolute heaven that is your orgasm had you floating. You were pulling him in as much as your body screams at you to push him away.

"Miguel… fuck—I can’t!"

"Another one, cariño. I know you can give it to me."

The new nickname however, didn't escape your notice. Honey, he calls you and the word echoed in your skull. The shimmering hope from earlier now fills your heart full as the delusion of something not quite there urged you closer into another orgasm.

The thrill of a new name of endearment unlocked got you giddy, overlapping the creeping negativity at the back of your head.

Miguel whispered incoherent words under his shaky breath as he shuddered and grew desperate with his thrust, no doubt near his own end. His hands grabbed onto you for salvation, almost worshiping as he dug his nails into your feverish flesh, urging your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Come with me, cariño.”

And with that, you fall once more. Legs convulsing around his torso as you cried out with your release.

Silence fell between you both, save for the loud gasps for breaths you took. His arms around your shoulders grounded you from the nirvana still resonating deep within your bones. It’s the small things that got butterflies running amok, Jess has frowned upon your easily swayed heart and shook her head once she heard about your situationship with Miguel, just two weeks after your first sexual encounter.

“That man is far from becoming the boyfriend you wanted. Miguel is all work and words, barely any feelings. Do me a solid and run off with someone better, I heard Shakespeare right there is searching for a nice partner.”

Sensing the usual air of nonchalance fogging around him like a second skin, you knew that it's true. You could've hung out with someone more gentle like Shakespearean Spider-Man, be treated like a princess with how hopelessly romantic he is but when Miguel looks so vulnerable with his eyes closed temporarily on your chest, you couldn't help but curl further into him.

It's annoying how you couldn't find it in yourself to leave him yet he'd dispose of you without a second thought.

You could almost see Layla materializing in front of you with a pitiful look, patting you with her holographic hand, knowing that after all of this, Miguel will continue his cold behavior once he's out of the haze of his orgasm.

You’re not dumb to know his words actually meant anything yet you couldn’t help but be deluded in your own world where the man of your dreams isn’t emotionally constipated and withdrawn.

As you watch him pull away from your arms and fix himself up, you sighed internally.

Maybe one day, just not today or tomorrow.

[koishiro]

# - “𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐆𝐎 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄?”

☆彡 1:54am

masterlist | bllk masterlist | upcoming anon asks

OnlineFriend!Nagi who first sees you (or should I say your avatar) in a lobby populated with unfamiliar players.

OnlineFriend!Nagi took note of your avatar’s appearance; dark hair with hues of purple coursing through correlating with your eyes, light purple (what seems to be a more modernised) kimono cut short at the front exposing your dark purple thigh-highs adorned with lace and flowers. Clearly a paid skin.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who, after joining a team which so happened to include you, would pay more attention to your voice over anyone else’s during a match.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who contemplated sending you a friend request at the end of every match but didn’t want to come off as creepy or weird.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who works up enough courage to finally send you that friend request at the end of your team’s last game.

Ch0k1: Hey, hope you don’t mind the friend request :p

You: No! Not at all!

You: I had fun playing with you :P

Ch0k1: Wanna play another round? Like a duo?

OnlineFriend!Nagi who gains a crush on you after months of talking and playing mostly duo matches over teams.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who loves to spoil you, whether that be gifting you skins, in-game credit, battle passes and even newly released games (all with Reo’s card of course).

OnlineFriend!Nagi who isn’t subtle around his friends as his eyes are glued to his phone screen with a smile locked onto his face.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who just shrugs when asked by Reo what he’s spending so much of his money on.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who temporarily malfunctions after you send him a selfie for the first time. Realising how long he’d been staring at your photo, he replies with his own selfie.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who asks to meet in person at a nearby convenience store only to realise how he should’ve asked to meet at a nice park instead of an old run down store.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who arrives first at the said convenience store weeks later, fiddling with the game you had mentioned and been saving up for.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who nearly faints on the spot when you reach up on your toes to place a quick kiss on his cheek after handing you the game.

OnlineFriend!Nagi who, unbeknownst to you, slipped in a piece of paper on the inside cover of your new game asking you what he didn’t have the courage to say in person.

I really like you, do you maybe wanna go out sometime? :)

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

Date posted: 25/07/23

[sssardonian-ssserpent]

((Mild hot take in the read below (nothing to do with drama just my own opinion on an aspect of Hazbin):

The CherriSnake in this show was not written very well. It was written poorly. Very poorly. Extremely poorly. Which sucks to me because, I’ll admit, I was not a CherriSnake shipper going into the show. I disliked it because of how it was everywhere and I just didn’t vibe with anything about it from what I saw or various fanworks, but I tried to go into it with an open mind because I knew it was coming thanks to the episode 6 trailer featuring Cherri that came out on Twitter. I wanted to see if I could like it, see if the show could win me over because it was doing a fantastic job with Husk and Angel. And not only did it NOT do a great job, it honestly made me hate the ship even MORE because of how sloppy, slap-dashed, in credibly rushed and utterly lacking of any chemistry, bonding, or character depth it had.

First off. I’m not a fan of how suddenly and without warning Pentious’s absolute and total crush on Cherri was. Like, we’re talking about a man who literally called Cherri and Angel both “whores with no class” in the pilot during their fight (which is confirmed to be canon to the show’s timeline by the by so HE DID call her that, at some point), and seemed to completely disregard her as nothing but an enemy to try and destroy, so forgive my skepticism when in episode 6 he’s suddenly sheepishly trying to buy drinks for her/asking to have sex with her and nervously trying to declare his love for her on the evening before the finale battle. And that’s another thing that I’m not a fan of, him trying to proclaim that he loves her. Sure, you could make the argument that he did it in a spur of the moment thing because he thought there was a chance he may die, and that’s fair, but I feel like that is way, WAY too strong of a declaration for one character to make when he’s only realistically talked to her, maybe four times in the whole season, 3 of those times being the result of a three gag punchline.

Like. Proclaiming your love for someone is a very, very, very different thing from just expressing your interest or your liking someone. It’s much more heavy and it has a shit ton more emotional weight behind it. Weight that Pentious doesn’t even nearly begin to have to try and approach her and declare it right there in the lobby. And even then, what does he say he loves her for? The fact that he thinks she’s beautiful and she makes explosive weaponry that he finds amazing.

That’s it. Nothing else. Just the two most bare bones and basic shit about her character. Nothing about her personality, nothing about anything deeper in her heart that he may see, nothing about any connections he personally feels with her, NOTHING. It feels almost completely soulless and just lacking in the most basic of romantic chemistries, because we never see even a single scene of just these two talking to each other. It’s just Pentious trying to confess/awkwardly trying to flirt with her and then dipping immediately, until he doesn’t when they kiss shortly before he dies and drops the love confession from her, which, COULD HAVE been an emotional moment, if they had gotten more than, at best, three whole fucking scenes in the entire season with each other.

A romantic kiss scene should not be making me roll my eyes in annoyance and sighing. A love confession should not be making me sit there and shouting at my screen “what do you LOVE about her??? You BARELY KNOW EACH OTHER!” And yet here we are.

And that’s not even beginning to get into Cherri’s characterization because boy do I have some words for that.

First off, the actively dismissing Pentious when it’s clear he’s trying to flirt with her/leading him on when he’s clearly confused and struggling.

Now I’m not saying Cherri Bomb should’ve been immediately crushing right back on Pentious or that she should’ve been just as spellbound with him as he was for her or anything, god no. But it really doesn’t help with the “the ship has no chemistry” thing going on in the ship when it feels like the other active participant in said ship just does not have any interest at all/is purposefully trying to lead the other on with no actual intentions to follow through.

I’ve seen so many people talk about the club scenes with Cherri Bomb and how she was actively always giving Pentious so many openings to actually flirt with her, and I’m sitting like “…WHERE?” The first time Pentious tries to engage in anything close to flirting in the hotel, reaching to touch her shoulder while asking her questions, she roughly grabs his hand, and declares “don’t touch me.” That is already super fucking clearly NOT an opening. That is her shutting his ass down super fast.

Then we have the scenes where he is trying to buy her drinks. He asks her politely if she’d want to have him buy her a drink, and she snidely responds with “Why? Didn’t you say we were arch rivals?” while smirking at him in this very almost snooty way. Pentious, panicking because of having to eat his own words, backs off immediately and makes the excuse he’s buying drinks for everyone there.

And then it happens again when he does actually buy her a drink, and she just silently glares at him with an annoyed grimace on her face. Which makes Pentious back off again and immediately declare how he’s buying drinks for everyone again. (“Giving him an opening” my ass.)

She is CONSTANTLY brushing him off the entire night and not showing any interest in him in the slightest, with the ultimate blow being when, clearly drunk, Pentious asks her if she wants to have sex with him, and she responds like this.

It’s the specific wording of “I’m sorry, why would we have sex” for me. Combined with her laughing in his face and looking completely and totally unfazed by it. I’ve seen some people say that “oh she wasn’t saying no, that wasn’t a no” and I’d like to heartily disagree with that notion. People sometimes say “I’m sorry” at the beginning of their sentence either as a means of asking them to repeat themselves or as a means of softening the blow for a rejection, and the wording of “why would we” is a very EXPLICIT rejection in my mind.

It doesn’t read to me like a legit question, it comes off as rhetorical and mean, a firm and amused “no, why the fuck would we do that/no, why the fuck would you think I’d want to have sex with you?” And Pentious’s rejected expression that doesn’t change throughout that brief scene speaks to me that is exactly what was trying to be said here.

And then Pentious bails for the third time and the punchline comes when he’s dragged into that orgy by the rest of the club patrons, she happily goes on her merry way fucking some other club patron for the night and doesn’t even look at Pentious once. There is explicitly NO interest being shown with Cherri here, and it utterly kills any potential ways their characters could mesh in a way that’s fun to watch or talk about.

And we don’t even get the chance to see her again until episode 8, which is where the most infuriating aspect of Cherri’s character in this ship comes into play for me. The part where she learns that Pentious has two dicks.

This is just after Pentious runs away after nervously trying to confess his love for her (again, when they barely know each other and he spent the entire night he saw her last getting constantly rejected by her) and Angel approaches her talking about how she could totally bang/hook up with him and she responds by scoffing and saying “don’t be gross.” And then, when Angel lets slip that he heard Pentious has two dicks…

THEN she becomes interested.

THEN. ONLY THEN.

No thinking he’s cute, no thinking his mannerisms or awkward attempts at talking to her are endearing, no secretly thinking his tech and machines are cool or that the Eggbois are cute, none of that makes her interested in him. It’s the fact that he’s potentially hung in the bedroom that makes her even remotely interested in fucking him. NOT LOVING HIM. FUCKING HIM.

She barely even reacts to his death. It’s just a look of shock on her part. Her brow doesn’t even furrow.

So…Just to recap.

Angel Dust and Husk got multiple scenes together throughout the entire season where they’re constantly interacting, talking, fighting with each other, until it finally culminates in a beautiful and heart wrenching scene of understanding that then glides perfectly into a captivating and catchy song about understanding each other’s struggles and learning that they don’t have to be alone with their shitty situations and can rely on each other.

Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb got, at best, 6 scenes with each other across two and only fucking two episodes, and it consists of nothing but a random and sudden crush that is fueled by no chemistry, no bonding, no understanding, and only consists of the most bare bones physical attraction that raises to a fever pitch of a love confession way, WAY TOO QUICKLY on one side, and total and utter disinterest that only barely reaches the desire to fuck the other just because they heard how they had a second dick on the other side, all culminating in no song, no character growth between the two, and a sacrificial kiss and love confession that feels hollow and empty because there is absolutely nothing there behind it.

Can you see why I’m so mad about how this was written now?

[itsbeesknees]

The Old Man is Snoring

Any Papa x GN!reader

——0——

Summary: There is a monster in your bed, and it’s making the most decrepit noises.

Warnings: none, just fluff and crack

Word count: 644

A/N: this drabble is dedicated to all the Papas noses

——0——

You are 99.9% certain there is some sort of monster in your bed.

You’re not surprised, of course— why would you be? You spend the majority of your time worshiping the devil at black encrusted altars, and Ghouls prowl the Ministry on the daily, so the probability of a monster being in your bed isn’t too outlandish. Though, last time you checked, monsters are meant to lurk under the bed, not on top of it.

Silk linens are the only thing that’s keeping you safe from this beast. Which is rather unfortunate, since you’re not entirely sure that a thin layer of buttery fabric is a good enough barricade. The duvet would’ve been a much more reliable option, but that had been kicked down onto the floor during your few hours of untroubled sleep. Curse your rotten luck.

The monster breathes sharply through its nose and you freeze up like a half-wit. By Satan is it loud. When you first had woken up you almost mistook it for a chainsaw, with gears and motors rattling. But it was not a chainsaw, and possibly not human either, because nothing skulking this earth should sound like that.

Is this how Theseus felt? Twisting and turning in a maze, haunted by a beast. Was this monstrosity your Minotaur?

You have the good grace to snort at that, because you are not Theseus.

When Theseus was confronted with danger, it was not in a plush mattress cocooned by fancy sheets. When Theseus slayed the beast, he did so bravely and without faltering. Theseus was heroic, Theseus was gifted a fictional magic thread, and you didn’t possess either of those things.

These kinds of thoughts should honestly be completely redundant, as you are an adult now who is perfectly capable of confronting the heaving creature that’s hogging up most of your pillows. Yes, now is the time to be the knight galloping on a horse, charging onwards into battle. You may not be Theseus, but you can surely act like him.

So you whip your body over to face the thunderous beast, squaring your shoulders and sucking in a fierce breath. You have every intention of slaying the fire-spitting, scaley green dragon. Surely confident that they’d hang your title in the great halls of fame after you conquer such a chilling creature..

You didn’t get that far.

Because, when you finally got a look at the monster, the beast, the dragon, the love of your life, you felt the thorns that guarded your heart shrivel and wither away. He was no creature, just an irritating snorer, who was generally well intentioned.

He did fall asleep in his papal paints again, which perhaps made him look a little bit more cryptic than usual, with all that smudged pigment and whatnot. But regardless, he was your papa, not a monster, and he desperately needed the sleep. Way more than you.

So, gallantly, you trade a moment of dragon-slaying for a moment of peace, resting your head on his chest and listening to the pumping of his heart. Occasionally, another snore will trickle out, sometimes even louder than the one before, yet you pay it no mind.

And when he finally wakes, fluttering open his bicolored watery eyes, you greet him with a tired smile and a sweet kiss to his nose; the culprit of your horrors.

“Did I keep you up with my snoring again, amore?” He asks, blinking blearily and tracing shapeless patterns into the sides of your arm.

“No.” You say, flinching at how groggy your voice sounds. “But I think there was a monster in our bed last night, you should’ve heard it. I almost mistook it for a chainsaw.”

Your beloved pauses, processing the meaning of your words, before recoiling in mock offense as if you had sucker punched him straight in the gut. Then, he promptly pulls you closer, and kisses you in all his morning-breath glory.

—o—

[naomis-daydream]

ex-factor // modern au!officer!izogie

summary: exes who can’t let each other go, based on ‘ex-factor’ by lauryn hill. izogie gets hurt and calls the one person she needs to feel better, but also the same person she should stay away from.

warnings: mentions of injuries (blood, cuts, changing bandages), past relationship, suggestive language.

a/n: i have been neglecting my girl, so i present a treat for u. this is my first angst so lower them expectations pls… those who were asking for izogie content here u go, show her love <3

✧

it could all be so simple, but you’d rather make it hard. loving you is like a battle, and we both end up with scars. tell me who i have to be to get some reciprocity. cause no one loves you more than me, and no one ever will.

she shouldn’t have called you, she knew that. she should’ve left you alone, let you move on. though, a part of her hoped you’d answer. that you’d sigh, complain about the hour or nature of the call before inevitably caving, but you didn’t. you didn’t do your usual game of answering on the last ring just to keep her on her toes. you didn’t let it go to voicemail before sending a text saying you were too busy or too tired, but not enough to ignore her. you didn’t do anything, and that surprised izogie, maybe even hurt her, but it didn’t stop her.

it didn’t stop her from ignoring the alarms in her head telling her to turn around. it didn’t stop her from pushing the lift button and knocking weakly on door. and it certainly didn’t stop the small smile that crept up her lips as the barrier opened to reveal you.

your tired expression dropped slightly, being replaced by one caused annoyance rather than interrupted slumber. your cardigan fell off one shoulder as you rubbed your eyes while sighing. “what are you doing here, izogie?”

she looked down at you, forearm pressed against the doorframe while the other clutched her abdomen. “when you say my name like that, it almost makes me think you don’t wanna see me,” she laughs gently, immediately groaning lowly after.

this draws you to look down to her midriff, seeing her applying pressure to the area that was an increasingly growing deep red stain on her gray Police Academy shirt. your eyes widen quickly as you open the door entirely to guide her her in, locking it behind you as she leans against the island. “what happened?” you ask hurriedly, walking briskly to grab your emergency kit.

she smacks her teeth, shaking her head. “you worry too much.”

“yeah? you show up battered and broken in the middle of the night too much, so i think i’m well within reason.”

you crouch down, avoiding her eyes watching you as you took out supplies. she stays silent for a moment, unsure if she should attempt to make conversation. it’s been longer than usual since the two of you have spoken, much less been in such close proximity.

“it’s just a graze.” she says finally.

you look up, soaking a wash cloth with water as she continues. “the bullet. it only grazed my skin, didn’t puncture enough to go through.”

“but enough to cause so much bleeding,” you say, reaching to clean the blood from her stomach as she instinctively held up a side of her shirt.

this wasn’t her first time coming here, maybe not her last. the two of you did the whole will they, won’t they dance for nearly two years during your friendship. the tension between you was palpable, and it didn’t help that you got along so well too.

she got all parts of you—the late nights, early mornings, and countless hangouts in between. stolen kisses on hands and foreheads, hugs that lasted a bit too long to be platonic, and roaming hands when one thinks no one else is looking. she would tease and flirt shamelessly, often leaving you with a racing heart and an ache between your thighs.

until one day she didn’t. one day she went all the way. it was heavenly, her giving you so many parts of her. only it was never all of her, and you were okay with that—with waiting. relationships take time, which you understood, but after a year of being together, she still wasn’t ready. she wasn’t ready to introduce you to family, tell you more about her life before moving from her home country, talk about moving in together. she also wasn’t ready to tell you why she was so hesitant, so stubborn with you, hellbent on locking you out.

so, you had to let her go.

“why didn’t you go to the hospital?” you ask, breaking the deafening silence that filled the room. “they could help you a lot more than i can,” you say, gaze glued to your hands applying disinfectant to your wound.

“i’m sure they could, but you’ve always had better bedside service,” she replies, wincing shortly when you press into her stomach. you raise a brow in warning, continuing to clean her injuries.

there was a reason you hadn’t answered her calls, hadn’t replied to her texts. you broke up over four months ago, yet every time she called, you came, and if you didn’t, she’d come to you. the cycle was unhealthy, you knew that, but so is the insatiable drug they call love.

izogie knew that you’d come too, because that’s what you do for those you love. a part of her felt bad for preying upon a vulnerable piece of your heart, the piece that’d she carved herself into, but the other craved being around you, because only you could make her feel better. though lately, you’d been pulling away. the leftover love you held for her was fading, because in your heart you both knew that she wouldn’t change, and that this cycle would repeat until one of you let go.

you finished disinfecting the wound, applying anti-inflammatory healing ointment before wrapping gauze around her torso. once you finished, you looked up at her, finding her eyes already on you. her mouth parted to allow her tongue to wipe over he bottom lip.

“this position is awfully familiar, no?”

you blinked up at her before rubbing your hands over your thighs as you stood. looking around you wrapped your cardigan around yourself. “well, you’re all patched up, so…i don’t see any reason for you to stay.”

“not one?” she asks, head turning as you washed your hands beside her.

you kept your eyes on the suds forming on your hands. “not a good one.” you clarify.

she hums quietly as you dry your hands, turning to face the island as you put away the kit. “you don’t worry about me anymore.” she states instead the usual question. “what if i need assistance changing my bandages?”

“then you go to the hospital, izogie. not show up at my place well after midnight expecting me to fix you.” your reply comes out tired, and you are, so you’re finally letting her know.

“yet you always do, don’t you?” her words come out more bitter than she intends. you shut the closet door, turning to her.

“maybe that’s the problem.”

her face softens, brows that were previously knit relaxing in your presence. you exhale, trying to find the words that have been struggling to come to light for weeks.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you say, motioning between the two of you. “this back and forth, running ‘round in circles thing with you. i did when we were friends, i did it when we were together, but i can’t do it now.”

izogie’s head drops, palms tightening into fists atop the counter as she listens. “i’ve given you so much, and i’ve been fine with hardly anything in return, but i deserve better than that.”

your voice is soft and timid as you speak, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve as your eyes begin to shine. you look down to prevent izogie from seeing her effect on you, but she already has. her heart falters seeing you cry, especially knowing she’s the cause. “so, i need you to go,” you say, sniffing as you look up, as a tear falls down your cheek, “i need you to let me go.”

the taller woman bites the inside of her cheek, an attempt to get that pain to mask the one she felt in her chest. she hated seeing you cry, and would often tell off anybody who did so much as look at you wrong, but this time, she needed to take a long look in the mirror. look at the woman who made the love of her life struggle to hold on to the pieces of herself in her own home.

so she walks around the counter, going to stand directly in front of you as she takes you in, trying to cement the moment to memory. you don’t want to look at her, because you risk breaking the fragile boundary you’ve been trying to create. it isn’t until she shakily whispers, “please, look at me,” that you slowly lift your eyes to hers. her irises are swimming with emotions you know all to well; regret, uncertainty, acceptance.

her lower lip trembles. you frown, wanting to ease her pain, but you know that’s impossible without hurting yourself in the long run. she wraps strong arms around your waist as she pulls you into her. hesitantly, you curl your arms up her shoulder blades, both of you relaxing into the other’s touch. izogie tucks her chin into your neck, closing her eyes as your hands press into her. you feel damp droplets prick onto your skin through the wool of your top as her arms get impossibly tighter around you, wanting you closer.

you stay there. every word left unsaid or actions left undone being released in the moment, being freed.

you’re the first to pull away, hands sliding down her back, trailing down her forearms and to her hands. you breathe deeply as you look up at her, tear-stained cheeks glistening under the warm light.

she keeps her eyes on you as she walks backwards, holding onto your hand until her arms can no longer reach. you fold your arms around your middle, watching her as she grabs the knob, giving you one last look. you close your eyes, looking down to your sock-clad feet, only looking up once you hear the door shut.

gone, you think, which is good. it should stay that way.

right?

i keep lettin’ you back in. how can i explain myself? as painful as this thing has been, i just can’t be with no one else. see i know what we’ve got to do. you let go, and i’ll let go too. cause no one’s hurt me more than you, and no one ever will.

✧

taglist: @princessmel-1995 @gonesgone

[rvllybllply2014]

It’s the first fall that Davos and Aeron have ever experienced. They’re both excited, they were both born in the spring and grew up during the long summer. Aeron is the one to notice the slight cooling of the air and mentions it to Davos. Davos is also excited about the air cooling and at the first sight of the leaves changing Davos is comparing Aerons beauty to them. And when Aeron blushes Davos says that Aeron is more beautiful than the sunset and it compliments his hair so nicely bringing the hints of gold out.

But just like how summer melts into fall and winter and the winter snow melts into spring so too does Davos and Aeron’s relationship/love. But Davos still holds love for Aeron in his heart, even after the fight that caused the battle of the burning mill. When it’s spring again Davos still feels like it should be fall/winter and it is in his heart. Davos whispers a happy birthday to Aeron when he knows it’s his birthday.

Years pass before the long summer once again passes and well Davos has married and done his duty. It’s only when Davos feels the cooler air and notices the leaves changing does he cry over Aeron again, his grandchildren ask what’s wrong and Davos explains that it’s been years since he’d last seen fall, and he misses a dear friend that should still be here if they both weren’t so stubborn and prideful. His last words to his grandchildren is to hold their loved ones close and to swallow their pride even if the other person won’t.

Davos dies that night with Aeron’s name on his lips. Sure his family will think Davos looks content because he’s finally going to see his wife again, but Davos and Aeron know that it’s because Aeron was there for Davos’s death. So Davos passed peacefully and Aeron teases him that he didn’t deserve a peaceful death but he’ll allow it. Later Aeron will tell Davos that he was there every time Davos fought, he wanted Davos to live a full life that Aeron was cheated of. Davos thanks Aeron while telling him he would’ve done the same if the roles were reversed. But also maybe Aeron should’ve let Davos die young on the battlefield, because living without Aeron was hell. Aeron just kisses Davos while reminding him that they’re together now and nothing can ever separate them again, so welcome to paradise Davos.

[tealmisthams]

Another one for kiss roulette, if you don’t mind dear friend! Number 33 for fivesoka 👀

Thanks for the request! 💙 I had an idea for them for this prompt as soon as I saw it. 😄

—

Prompt 33: A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

When Fives woke, Ahsoka was still asleep, snuggled in the sheets beside him. He shifted onto his side, so he could see her better and he watched the shallow movements of her breathing.

After Grievous had knocked her out during the battle the other day, Fives had been terrified that he’d lost her. He’d refused to leave her side when she was in the medbay and when she’d finally been released, he tailed her to her quarters.

Of course he would have left if she’d wanted him to, but he was incredibly glad she asked him to stay with her. He’d curled himself protectively around her as she slept, though really it was more for his own peace of mind than anything else.

As Fives watched her sleep now, his eyes drifted to the slash marks that had been left on her face by one of Grievous’ clawed feet. Fortunately, they were almost healed, after having been treated with bacta, but Fives’ heart still clenched when he saw them.

So he shifted his focus to her natural, white facial markings. He’d always loved the diamonds that decorated her forehead and the way the chevrons highlighted her cheeks.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Ahsoka’s voice startled him and he now realized her cerulean eyes had opened, and were watching him sleepily.

“Because you’re beautiful,” he answered truthfully. “Why wouldn’t I stare?”

She lifted an eyebrow marking in disbelief. “I’m not beautiful right now, while my face is covered in scars.”

“Of course you are. That’s not even what I was looking at,” he protested.

“What were you looking at then?”

“You and your markings.” When she still looked somewhat confused, he reached out to cup her jaw. “I was looking here.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss right on one of the diamonds that adorned her forehead. “And here.” He kissed the other diamond. “And here.” He kissed the middle of the diamond outline in the center of her forehead. Then he tilted her chin slightly, so he could kiss the chevrons on each of her cheeks. “And there.”

When he leaned back, she just stared at him for a moment, the blue on her montrals and lekku having turned navy in a deep blush. Then she surged forward, smashing their lips together, and landing on top of him.

“Woah, ‘Soka, be careful. You’re still injured,” Fives protested weakly. Despite his words, he was already kissing her back.

“You should’ve thought of that before you started kissing me.”

“Fine.” Putting one hand behind her head and wrapping his other arm around her waist, he carefully rolled her over, so he was above her. “At least let me do all the work until you’re healed.”

Her cerulean eyes sparked as she gazed up at him through her lashes. “Deal.”

[rosetheocto]

hi!!! i wanted to ask about your thoughts on what should be changed in eeveelution squad!! ive been thinking about it a lot recently and ive seen you on the tag from time to time and i wanted to know more about what you think!!

OOOOOO there’s a lot of things actually!! This is kinda long and all over the place tho so uhh have fun with that!! :0

if you want me to elaborate more on certain things or have a point make more sense just send another ask my way lol

No CC. sorry to whoever made her but she SUCKS and I don’t like her. Her backstory makes no sense even in an AU and she’s just. very overpowered lol (also her and Gai have no chemistry)

speaking of ships with no chemistry: Lazuli/Speed/Silvia. theyre all so toxic to each other and Speed has shown clear disinterest in them both for nearly the whole comic. They only got together in the end cuz The Fans Wanted It, completely ignoring stuff like Lazuli/Silvia kissing Speed during a PTSD flashback without his consent. I can go on and on about how much the romance in this comic is bad but I’ll be here all day lmao. I may make a rant about them all in another post in the future

TLDR for that being: most speed ships suck (I see him as aro tbh, Stella was an exception), Black and Pearl also suck but not as much, I’m glad Crystal didn’t get with Trace

Leaf needs more personality, tbh all the girls do. Like seriously name one female character that doesn’t have any major ties to a guy. like even Sunshine has a love interest in Axel and they’re 3/4 years old

I wish the berserker lore made sense. ik EV made it overly complex to Spite The Haters or whatever but I just don’t really get it half the time. in terms of unique stuff ES has like those and the Coastal Eevees or the timeline resets it could’ve been handled a LOT better and made more sense

(and I know the Journals have more info but I’ll get to those in a sec)

Shade just sucks as a villain and you can tell he was rushed to give the finale a proper final battle (Special 12B wasn’t meant to be the finale originally if you didn’t know that)

(If I were to make a final villain to ES it would’ve been Alan but that’s just me lol)

there’s way too many characters and most people can’t even tell the slight differences in appearance as well as I can. like there were people mistaking Blaze (Pearl’s mom, Flareon with the hair swirly thing) and Mollie (Triplets mom, Flareon with a leg missing) as the same person for a while and that isn’t really good for design and story stuff. and like there’s so many characters that show up once and never again until you find out that They Actually Had A Bunch Of Story Relevancy You Didn’t Know Until Just Now! (Shade)

and looking at the drafts for the After Story it doesn’t really answer any questions and just made things more confusing?? and there’s also stuff that I just. refuse to accept as canon. Speed would NOT abandon his daughter for years just cuz “he wants to explore again” yeah he may not be the best father figure in the world but CMON :((

AND SPEAKING OF THAT: there’s way too much Journal only content, which is fine if the average reader knew about all those journals. The stuff from those should’ve really been incorporated into the story sooner, cuz most stuff that’s been established in journals for years only got to shine in the comic at the very end

Those are all the major things I can think of really! If you read this far, then thanks!! I have a lot of thoughts on this comic lol

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

Almost everything is on AO3 under Daughterofthesea ✨

Nessian:

Promise ACOSF/ACOFAS fix-it fic (Complete) I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV

Just Give Me Tonight Cassian works through his feelings for a mortal Nesta. Set mid-ACOMAF. (Complete) I, II

The Grand Tour Cassian once dreamed of showing Nesta the world. Now he can. Just Give Me Tonight spin-off. (Complete) I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII

Untitled (sort of Nessian, anti-IC) drabble

Overture After seeing her dance, Cassian fills the symphonia with Nesta's favourite songs. (Complete)

Carynthian Cassian watches Nesta through a mirror during the Blood Rite) (Complete) I, II

Dance, Let it Be Set post ACOSF, there's only one thing that will take Nesta's mind off the horrors of the Blood Rite and Feyre's labour. (Complete)

Hold You Till Forever Cassian made Nesta a promise on the battlefield. In the immediate aftermath of the war, Nesta goes searching for him to make him a promise of her own, having realised a few things in their brush with death (Complete)

Semper Eadem Elizabethan AU. It’s 1575 and Nesta Archeron, lady-in-waiting and favourite of Queen Elizabeth I is trying to forget the bastard nobleman who, eight months ago, stole her heart and left. Now, at a pageant thrown in the queen’s honour, Cassian is back and trying to win Nesta round— but there’s no way she’s going to let him off easy. (Complete) i, ii, iii, iv, v

Through the Dark When the ravens attack the library, Cassian suppresses every violent instinct he has in order to give Nesta what she needs. (Complete)

The Bargain People whisper about the god that lives in the forest, that grants wishes to the desolate and the desperate, but when Nesta Archeron takes it upon herself to enter the forest and ask the god to save her family, she gets much more than she bargained for. (Complete)

Heirs to Empty Thrones In the absence of the king, Nesta finds herself carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and there's only one knight in the world that can take her mind off it. Medieval AU. (Complete)

How The Light Attaches to a Change of Heart It’s been three years since Rhys demanded Nesta move to the House of Wind or be exiled to the human lands. That day, she walked away and never looked back, choosing a new life for herself on the continent. But something’s not right, and when she returns to Velaris for Elain’s birthday, she figures out what she was missing all along. (In progress)

A Final Poison Kiss Delivered Gently Nesta Archeron is a renowned and ruthless fae warrior, but she gets far more than she bargained for when, in the midst of battle, she finds herself up against the most fearsome General. Retelling of the Achilles/Penthesilea myth. (Complete? Maybe? Maybe not?)

How Could You Think, Darling, I’d Scare So Easily? Set post-acofas and pre-acosf. Each night Cassian sits on the roof of the building across the street from Nesta’s apartment, waiting for a light in her window. (Complete)

Should’ve Worshipped Her Sooner Cassian can't sleep because he's too busy simping over Nesta. A drabble partially inspired by Hozier's Take Me To Church.

If You’re Lost, Just Look For Me When Cassian is called away to Illyria for a whole week, Nesta finds her mate has left her something behind - several somethings, in the form of letters hidden throughout the House of Wind. Set post-ACOSF. (Complete)

Nevermind Twelve months to the day since she and Elain were thrown in the Cauldron, Nesta finds herself at one of Feyre’s dinner parties, trying to wrestle with an entire year’s worth of grief— until Cassian holds out a hand. (Complete)

Who Am I, That I Should Get To Hold You? When Elain throws a ball to celebrate her recent engagement to Greysen, there's nothing she wants more than for Feyre to attend. To keep the newly-Made Feyre safe beneath the wall, the General of the Night Court is resolved to attend too, planning only to observe the party from a distance. But when the irascible Nesta Archeron makes her entrance, Cassian's resolve crumbles and over the course of a single dance, he finds out that perhaps Nesta was always destined to be so much more than he bargained for. ACOMAF AU. (Complete)

My Hand Was The One You Reached For In the midst of war, Nesta Archeron bandages an injured General's wrist, and as Cassian lets Nesta tend to his wound, he realises there's not a thing in the world that could make him pull away. (ACOWAR fix-it). (Complete)

Hold Me Like A Knife After a decisive battle forges a peace treaty between the king of the West Saxons and the leader of the viking horde, Anglo-Saxon Nesta Archeron is brought north for the first time in her life when the king’s court travels to Jorvik. She should be terrified, and yet quickly she discovers that there are some things about the heathens that she can’t help but be drawn to… especially when a chance encounter brings her face to face with one viking in particular. (In progress) I, II

Begged & Borrowed Time Stuck in a loveless marriage, Nesta meets Cassian at entirely the wrong time. ACOMAF AU. (In progress) Prologue, I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, IXX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XXIV, XXV, XXVI, XXVII, XXVIII, XXIX, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII,

Nezriel

A Liar, A Fool Cassian pulled away from Nesta's touch, but when she fled, Azriel followed. ACOWAR fix-it) (Complete)

A Part of Me That Will Never be Mine It's Solstice Eve, and in the wake of Cassian's Solstice gift to Mor, Nesta flees the town house, but instead of Cassian walking her home, it's Azriel. (Complete)

A Taste of the Divine Returning from a mission, the Night Court’s spymaster arrives back in Velaris in need of a stiff drink above all else, but after seeking out Velaris’ seediest tavern, Azriel gets more than what he bargained for when he finds Nesta inside. Post-ACOWAR, pre-ACOSF. 

Nessriel

The Light I Need Set mid-ACOSF, Cassian finally notices Nesta's aversion to fires. Wanting nothing more than to help the woman he loves, he turns to the brother who he knows has faced similar trauma in the part. Soft three-part Nessriel fic. (Complete) (I, II, III)

Neris

The Gold in the Flame (Burns Brighter Now) Nesta had always been too sharp for their liking-- for her sister and Rhysand's Inner Circle. But during the Solstice celebrations at the Hewn City, Nesta dances with Eris in Feyre's place and learns that, perhaps, being sharp isn't always a bad thing. (For Nesta Week 2023 day 2: sharp). (Complete)

Elucien

A Rose Without a Thorn Growing tired of all the barriers between them, Elain finally snaps during one of Lucien’s visits to the River House. Set post-acosf.

Gwynriel

That one little snowball fight fic I wrote that doesn't have a title

[theheraldsrest]

Is it possible to request a short thing based on this post? khadaj-ballad tumblr com post 660348970442391552

“Romanced Companions react to a Drunk Inquisitor celebrating their victory against a dragon”

Thank you anon! Honestly half tempted to write this into the chapters it deserves but, alas, it’ll just have to be short little tidbits. Unless, you know, I feel the need to write further👀. 

-Lord Lex

Cullen

“Maker, give me strength.”

-Heard you were back after a particular dangerous battle with a dragon and had expected you to come up and tell him about it, but after 3 hours, he still hadn’t seen you

-Eventually finds you at the bar drunk with Bull, both making cheers to random things such as Dorian’s ass and even Cullen’s own ass

-”Love, I think you’ve had enough.” Tries to help you up as you’re giggling and stumbling over your words to explain the difference between getting fucked by a dragon and getting “fucked” by Cullen

-Maker help this poor man, he’s burning and trying to hush you yet nothing’s working. You’re gonna have a long talk in the morning. Or not, if he’s too embarrassed

Josephine

“Dearest, there you are!”

-Laughing and enjoying seeing you celebrate a victory like this, especially after this spectacular hunt. Definitely wasn’t worried when she received word that you had gone into battle against a dragon, for Andraste’s sake

-She knows it’s no use but she’s trying to have a civil conversation with you about making a trophy to commemorate it

-Bull mumbles something causing you to give a very dramatic gasp, saying “To my Josey-posey! The most dignified of the…dignities. I’d fight 10 dragons for her!” Not the most romantic thing but she thinks it’s rather sweet

-Definitely pokes fun at her new nickname, saying if you’d like any help from your Josey-posey

Solas

“Ma vhenan, is this really how you'd like to celebrate this victory?”

-Was very proud and very surprised that you’d been able to take down a dragon, especially with the different conditions of the battlefield you’d been on

-Actually had planned on having a celebratory drink with you but it seemed the Iron Bull had beaten him to the punch and was already well into the bottle. Sorry, bottles. Several.

-He’s trying to coax you to bed so that you won’t be completely incapacitated tomorrow but you’re not going down without a fight, demanding he drinks with you

-After much one sided arguing, finally agrees. Of course, it’s just water but you’re none the wiser as you make a cheer to Solas, as you declare your love for him. He makes a cheer to you as well, “May your heart forever be joyous and find all your battles as stupendous as this one.”

Cassandra

“Bull, did I not tell you only a few drinks would be fine? This is half the bar.”

-You know what, she should’ve expected this. It’s Bull, why wouldn’t he drink and drag you into this? And if he was pouring you the same amount? Ho boy, it’s gonna be a long night.

-She’s trying to convince you to go rest so that the head pain you’ll have in the morning won’t be as bad, but to no avail

-Drops it and decides to just carry you. Easy enough. Except for when you keep trying to pet her face. And kissing her cheek. And trying to hug her. And just being affectionate, stop it, damn it

-Last thing you say is something along the lines of how lovely Cassandra is, how she outshines the morning sun or something poetic like that before passing out. She’s an absolute blushing mess. Even if you only meant it because you’re drunk she still thinks about it

The Iron Bull

“How about another round, Kadan? Or you about finished?”

-He can drink for a good while, which irritates Cabot but what can he do? Bull’s paying for the drinks anyways

-This honestly would be one of the first few times you’ve drank together, so not only are you celebrating but Bull is watching to see what your limit is for the future is ever you wanted to drink again with him

-There is most definitely dirty words exchanged during this and implied thoughts, but Bull doesn’t act upon them unless he has a definite idea on yalls relationship. If so, Cabot has to ask you to leave. He’d rather keep the counter clean

-Bull eventually carries you back to your room, slung over his shoulder and singing your own renditions of the bard’s songs

Dorian

“Cheers to not dying! And very, very fine company!”

-He’s getting just as drunk as you are, both of you trying to keep up with Bull who just keeps pouring drink after drink. Doesn’t mind it though, he’s got a high tolerance for most drinks

-Leads to both of you just shamelessly flirting with each other, until it’s just “I love you more!” “No, I love YOu morre!”

-Man is just holding your face in his hands as he’s declaring how ridiculous and wonderful and dangerous you are, how did you win against a dragon? How did ANY of you win against a dragon? Why aren’t y'all dead?! Or are you dead?! Well that would suck.

-Tries to lead it on to more “activities” in private but you both just end up passed out in the library in his chair

Sera

“What the hell, Bull! First you don’t invite me to come drinking, then you get my Inky all out of it!”

-She’s not actually mad, more irked than anything. He had invited her but she hadn’t been paying attention. As for you, she’d been looking for you for a good while before finding you here

-She wanted to share all the new puns and jokes she made about the dragon and even the scale she managed to get before you left

-Just being her sour little self until you lean over and whisper a certain thing you’d like to do that involves you, her, her bedroom, and something about honey?

-Loses it with giggles and drags you away upstairs, leaving Bull chuckling at how quickly her mood changed

Blackwall

“I’m quite sure that’s not what happened, but go on.”

-Joined you both in celebratory drinks but not even trying to catch up to you two. Is just enjoying spending some time with you and listening to you and Bull’s words slurring

-Not even gonna stop you. Have your fun, gods know you haven’t had time for it

-It’s also pretty funny listening to you trying to retell how you killed the dragon but each time it gets more and more strange. Where did the mention of nugs attacking come from?

-Of course, we can’t forget about the flirting. There’s so many pick up lines and jokes, you can clearly see where his beard ends and where his bright blushing face begins. If it starts to get too dirty, he picks you up saying “I think it’s time the Inquisitor heads to bed” and quickly leaves

[mochikeiji]

Gojo Satoru

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: bby gojo having heavy thoughts and sadness after everything. (pls hug) angst to fluff.

↠ a/n: ironically, his name is the title for this xD also thank you so much for the love from my recent works o(^▽^)o♡ have my love too!

↬ Word Count: 1.9k

Everyone has their beginnings. While some were blessed to start out life with good fortune and the right path, there were some who struggled through their way in living. For Gojo? He didn't really care. Not when he was already being worshipped for being born in this world, not when as a child he had barely lifted a finger before his life was already planned out for him. It was as if he was simply taking the red carpet to luxury. He already has everything. Truly, he claimed, he was indeed the honored one.

He wasn't one to be wary of his own feelings. What was there to be thought about if he doesn't know what are these stuff running through his head? Not that he should give a single mind to it. 

But as he sat down at the tub of his bathroom— tweezers between his fingers, one at a time he plucks out the small shards of glass that had dug themselves onto his skin from the previous mission he was sent on solo, he started to wonder why he was staring blankly at the crimson liquid trailing down his damaged skin. Why did he felt so empty?

Maybe if Shoko were around to patch him up, he would've have had someone to pester for the day. Maybe he wouldn't have gone home to the lonesome apartment he owns, hissing at the pain from each shard taken out of his body.

Pain

That was strange. He never experienced that. Not even when he's in battle with the strongest forms of curses. No matter how many gashes of wounds he's collected, they always heal themselves quickly. It was unfamiliar that it began to frustrate him. He doesn't like it. Not one bit. It hurts. It hurts so much, yet why was there still something making his heart clench?

Loneliness. Abandonment. Broken.

Gojo was a fool for losing the only person that has come close to understanding him. If only he understood what Geto was going through; if he knew what the hell were all those troubles and emotions were maybe he would've still had his only best friend here with him. But no. It slowly came crashing down on Gojo's eyes that though he was the honored one,

He was the lost one.

A broken soul being held by strings as he was only guided to follow along the path that was planned out for him, but never what he planned for himself.

Why was he remembering all of these now? It had been years after the downfall. He should've moved on from it, be the usual cherry top, annoying idiot he was to his students and colleagues. God, he hates this. Falling, falling, falling.

Only the weak fall

Was a statement drilled into his system right from the start. The never ending worship that has earned him the title of being the "strongest" was what he kept pursuing. Believing.

Was the Gojo Satoru at his weakest point?

"Fuck." the unusually large shard of glass falls on the tiled floor, removed from the left side of his chest. Near to the scar that trails from the base of his throat and down to his navel; the reminder of why he shouldn't be left vulnerable at any cost. The hideous flaw that will forever be marked on his body, the one he desperately hides behind those prideful remarks and grinning faces. It saddens him, it hurts him, it angers him. It makes himself lose his own sanity.

The stinging started to kick in on his chest, no longer can he tell if it was from the wound or the clenching of his heart. He was strong, he was suppose and always will be strong. "Why?" the tub cracks from his grip. His free hand coming up to his eyes, eyes that people loved enough to fall in a trance— enemies crumbling and begging for mercy upon them.

Gojo felt ashamed.

Shameful. He grits his teeth hard when the small trickle of the uncharacteristic tear falls from the heavenly eye. It falls down to the porcelain surface, mixing with the trail of blood that was slowly draining down, "Why?" he finally looks down at the fatal wound, attempting to stop the bleeding with his bare hands pushing his chest. The blood smearing all over his upper body, shading the past scar that it made it look like it was there again.

"Why?"

Gojo speaks a little louder, sweating profusely as the dam inside him broke. Like an endless waterfall it was the tears fall. It made him sick. This was all not him. This wasn't the known shaman in the jujutsu world. This wasn't the boy raised from the family of the strongest. This wasn't the strongest.

"Stop."

This wasn't any of him.

"Make it stop."

Then who was he?

"Please, make it stop."

"Satoru?"

Entire body freezing. It was the first time he felt fear rushing through his veins; the fear of being seen like this. It wasn't because he didn't trust you. Good gracious, you were the last and only person Gojo ever holds onto after the years being glued together by faith and his attempts of flirting. No, he didn't want you to see this unknown person that was sitting in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Right, he forgot he was living with you.

Huh, he forgot. You were there.

There knelt down to his level, wide eyes meeting the now visible broken ones that was glossy with tears. With careful movements you raised an arm to eye level, pleading silently for permission to touch him. And for the time, Gojo was actually wary. He's faced a lot in the years spent as a sorcerer, as the strongest. Never the weakest. So when your lips curled into the same smile you'd give him during your moments of vulnerability. The cute, little curve you give when you couldn't help but just admire him or when you're about to utter out his 3 favorite words, he finds himself leaning forward to rest his cheek against the warmth of your palm. He allows the pestering tears to fall omly to be caught with your thumbs, shooing them away from his features.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

When your hand pulls away for a short moment, Gojo silently whines at the lost of contact. The tightness in his chest coming back. The feeling of abandonment crosses his head for a second before you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, holding up the tweezers he had dropped a while ago, "I'm here now."

I'm here now

That was his line. His line for when there was someone in need of help. The line that shimmers hope on the darkest moments of anyone's life. The line of the strongest. The ones who were only truly honored of saying.

Hope. It had a different form today. One that was right in front of him, plucking out every leftover shard on his body with gentleness he never got to witness as a child. The soft cooes and from time to time kisses on his scalp made his senses more focused on there rather than the stinging sensations running through his skin. Exactly how people react when there is hope.

And where there is hope,

"I love you, Satoru."

There is love.

Warm water from the shower cap started pouring down to his tensed muscles, washing out the combined dirt and blood away from him, cleansing his own form of curses that has shaken up his being. When did you finish patching him up? And why wasn't it as painful as it was when he did it?

He watches you move the small container that reeked of the scent of his blood and that inflicted his injuries far from his sight. Immediately, Gojo felt empty once more and was about to call you when you came back holding fresh towels on your hands. "Do you want me to join you?" he couldn't say yes faster than ever, almost as if he was relieved when you offered.

When you had finally stripped yourself off of your clothes and settled in between his long legs, there was nothing but the sound of the shower on echoing in the room with the two of you just staring back to one another.

Too good to be true, you were.

Gojo wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you how thankful he is that you were here to pull him away. To save his life, but all he could do was stare back into the void that of before. He sees the way your hands map around his torso in attempt to rinse him completely. Coming in contact with the old and new scar, softly tracing them as you felt his eyes wonder to yours. There was no sign of disappointment nor a hint of harm or disgust. Only something he never understood that it made him sob unexpectedly, startling you that left you pulling him into your embrace which he latches his face onto your neck and arms surrounding your body whole.

He cries.

All the frustration of not knowing whatever was happening, the mistakes he wishes to correct and the past he hoped to save along with the title he swore to maintain. It all falls on the smaller body he treasures in his arms at this very moment. He clutches, he palms, he roams. Whatever he can do just so he can fully grasp the idea that someone was there. You were there, and he wasn't alone anymore.

"I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough."

It would shock the world and break the hearts of many to hear these very words uttered from the mouth of the honored one. And Gojo wishes that everyone could hear it. That it would somehow reach the skies to wherever his best friend was too. To you, the person he loved the most. He was sorry that he wasn't the Gojo Satoru in your eyes.

"No, Toru. No." you push him back gently only to pull him in for a soft kiss, "I don't need you to always be the strongest. Let alone apologize for being vulnerable." he listens as he nuzzles against the palms meeting his face. The ones that held him together when he was falling apart.

His lips wobbled a bit when you land kisses on his scars, "These may not have been the good ones in your life, but these do not make you for who you are, Satoru." he hums in content when you rub down to his chest soothingly, the feeling that you has him yearning for more. Needing for more, "It's okay to be lost, and it's okay to be weak. But it'll never define you."

"I need you to be just you."

You pull him down, letting him cry all his heart out to your naked chest. He let's you have your way to him. The emotions, words, and treatment. All so unfamiliar. And he finds himself wanting. Needing more.

All his life he thought he had it all.

But never in his life has he lived it.

"What am I, (Y/n)?"

Cooing softly as the small of his voice. Like the child who never got to experience what love was. The child raised to already has to burden such responsibilities and stand. Gojo can feel himself breathe in relief as he whispers an "i love you" with a small kiss on your skin when you uttered out the words that has set his locked up self free. Free from the strings that's been taking over. The cage he was kept from all of his living.

The curse of his gift

And being honored of what he truly deserves.

"You're Gojo Satoru."

Just Gojo Satoru.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[dienamights]

Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s):  Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date. 

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.” 

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to- 

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?” 

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now. 

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her. 

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week. 

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No!  He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.” 

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario. 

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,” 

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-” 

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.” 

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight. 

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it. 

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?” 

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high. 

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a  shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly. 

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you. 

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed. 

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

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