#two words that describe both of em

[frozenhi-chews]

Pancake and Starlo: Heartbroken and Seeking Love

Pancake and Spamton: Divine yet Damned

Pancake and Arthur: Haunted and Hunted

Pancake and Wheatley: Trapped and Vengeful

Pancake and Springtrap: Tired and Haunted

[yardsards]

black raspberries growing in my backyard!!! yippee!!!

[slttygeto]

tags: pure filth, fem! reader, established relationship, use of a vibrator, squirting, dirty talk.

word count: 1k

sex with suguru could only be described as unpredictable. sure, you were able to detect hints of lust thrown your way by the tall man, thick and rough pads of his fingers skimming over your smooth skin underneath your shirt as he passes behind you, hands gripping your sides and squeezing. your body reacts to his teasing and it’s easy to follow him to the bedroom. he feels in control, likes that sweet words and soft touches can make you end up on top of him, riding his dick like the sweet girl that you are.

however, when the two of you are…excessively needier than usual, sex can turn into something sort of animalistic. the carnal desire to devour one another, bring as many orgasms out of each other and the sounds—the sounds should embarrass both of you.

suguru doesn’t consider himself to be extremely vocal. he groans, moans and shows his appreciation for your ministration on his body but right now—his mouth won’t stop.

“yeah baby, yeaaah,” his words are straight up filth as he presses the vibrator to your clit. his pace is unforgiving, strong hips driving into yours with the force of a predator hunting. your hands are on the headboard, trying to protect your head from the contact but it’s all hazy.

“suguru!” you cry out, eyes staring down at where your boyfriend is pressing the pink vibrator against your clit. your legs try to close from the overstimulation, but a strong hand keeps them open and your head turns to the side with a loud cry.

“keep em open for me, fuck—don’t run away from it, I know you want it.”

your hand grips at the pillow beneath you whilst the other makes a failed attempt at gripping suguru’s forearm. choked sobs and whines are the only sounds you can manage as he starts rubbing the vibrator over your clit, your thighs shaking and twitching at the unbearable yet delicious stimulation.

“yeah? pussy wants a fat cock ruining her and a vibrator, a lil greedy, don’t ya think?”

as he says that, his free comes to your stomach and traces the skin with his thumb, very gentle at first and your brain feels like mush at the contrast between his brutal fucking, the vibrator and his gentle touch. but you should’ve known that suguru is the type to softly lead you into his territory, only to jump you the moment he notices that you let your guards down.

the hand on your stomach presses down and you hear several clicks on the pink device, and when your body jolts up—you realize that he set the level higher.

the gasp that escapes your body sounds inhuman, and your body tries to run away from suguru despite being caged between his strong thighs. he is fucking you with a purpose, needing to prove something—he towers over you and presses his forehead against yours.

“look at me, come on baby look up—theere she is,” he grins at your fucked out expression, half lidded eyes glossed over with tears that had already fallen a couple of minutes ago. “feels good, huh? should’ve done this sooner,” he leans down and kisses your pulse and then travels back up to your cheek and finally your ear.

when he starts fucking you at a different angle, your hands fly down to his hips and your nails dig into his skin. you can’t talk, you don’t trust yourself with words now—but suguru always thought you were like an open book to him. especially when naked and vulnerable beneath him.

“oh here?”

“fuck! fuck fuck fuck—“ you choke out a sob. “suguru—oh baby, I’m close, I’m so so close,” you’re blabbering, barely breathing and suguru’s self control is slowly dissipating. up until this point, he’s been able to control himself and not explode inside you. your cunt was squeezing him deliciously, your cries, the way you said his name or how you held onto him—suguru needed to cum inside you.

“yeah you are,” he breathes out, any hint of playfulness overshadowed by the sudden lust washing over him. his orgasm crept up on him fast, and he needed to make sure you fell over the edge first. “come on, I know you can cum for me,” he says while rubbing the vibrator over your clit.

when you finally cum, the added pressure of his hand on your stomach makes something snap in your stomach and you feel wet. you don’t have time to register, everything is like white noise for a while before your brain leisurely takes control again. your breathing slows down, yet your hands hold onto suguru’s shoulders as he throws the vibrator somewhere in the corner of your bedroom to grab onto your hips properly.

his eyebrows are pinched, a sheen layer of sweat coating his forehead as his bangs stick to the skin. he looks magical, even more so when you start to fuck up into him, help him reach his own orgasm.

“fuck baby—“

“mmm sugu,” you whine at how his dick keeps abusing that one spot inside you. “cum baby, please,” your arms wrap around his neck to pull him down into a hug. “fill me up, I want all of it,”

when being the one talked dirty to, suguru malfunctions. his brain short circuits and his body seizes up as he drops his head on your shoulder. he empties himself inside you with a few more stuttered thrusts, thick and hot ropes of cum serving as the reward of his hard and incessant fucking.

running your fingers through his hair, both of you take the time to catch your breath, enjoy the intimacy and the nakedness of it all. moments like these are precious, suguru’s body nuzzles against yours like a cat trying to live in your skin— and you giggle when his nose nuzzles against your pulse.

“ya liked the vibrator?” he mumbles against your skin.

“oh fuck—“ the realization hits you that were all messy from squirting on him. “I…came messy,” the shyness that washes over you, preventing you from saying “squirt” makes suguru laugh into your neck.

“you mean you squirted?”

“not the point!”

note: another self indulgent piece. will i ever stop? no.

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[nescence]

Marriage life

JJK men x Fem!Reader

Summary - Basically just you and him in a marriage. Both wholesome and smutty. Involves: Gojo, Getou & Nanami

Warnings: Mirror sex, pervert Getou, praising, masturbating, massage sesh with Nanami ;), overstimulation.

PT2 pending…..

GOJO

You and Gojo are pretty much the rich aunty and uncle. You don’t have kids because your sister has pretty much filled that hole for you and babysitting the two twins is enough.

Movie night is a must with you guys. It’s relaxing and comforting especially on rainy days. So before bed when the kids are over you either watch horror or comedy, all snuggled up in a blanket. Gojo is always the last to fall asleep, it’s like he’s programmed to stay awake and protect you - always being the one to carry each of you to bed carefully.

“Satoru?” You mumble as your body is carefully placed onto the bed. You hear him hum as he covers you up. “The kids…” you trail off, sleep still in your body. He joins you in bed placing a kiss on your cheek then lips. “took care of em, get some beauty sleep” he reassures, arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him planting another on your forehead before you snuggle into him. The warmth emitting his body immediately putting you to sleep. His embrace has always been comforting, bringing you a sense of saftey you couldn't describe.

Clinginess, Gojo can be clingy whenever you’re off to work. He found it ridiculous why you would want to work in the first place. He had enough money for generations upon generations so you working was always baffling to him. Who in their right mind would work willingly?.

Sweets. You guys could make a factory with the amount of sweets you had in your cupboards. Maybe that’s why he always has an unbelievable amount of energy. Even in bed.

Practically a house husband.

“How’s my beautiful wife doing today?” Spreading his arms wide, Gojo pulls you into a hug. You were tired but you gladly accepted it, letting yourself fall into his hold. His arms remain at your hips staring down at you. “You’re glowing” his eyes sparkle, and you frown.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit” you say but he shakes his head “that’s weird…didn’t use anything new”. Once those words came out your mouth Gojo grins. “I could think of a reason why” his tone was cheeky, eyebrows wriggling as he stares down at you. Realising what he meant, you groan pinching his nipple which makes him jump.

“Ya nasty” rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

Always, always praising you.

“Look at you…” Gojo practically whispers to himself, watching his fingers circle your wet clit through the mirror. Your body twitching under his electrifying touch, the way the tip of his middle finger delicately presses against your clit has you shaking for mercy. Licking his lips hungrily, his eyes observe. A fucking. Sight. To see.

Your brows curled and bottom lip disappears underneath your teeth. Legs broadened - felt embarrassing to you - like a work of art mirrored at gojo, granting him the sight of every inch and surface of his wife; your pussy glosses under the soft lighting of your bedroom, keeping his glistening cock cosy within whilst drops of cum seep out, running down his length. Your low whimpers sounding like the desperate cry of a pup. Face stained with dried tears. And Gojo loves it, bringing you to such a state to show how much he adores your body, how a stunning woman like you should be treated - he wants to give you nothing but pure pleasure caused by him and him only.

“Ahn~~” you moan, trying your best to keep your legs open as Gojo continues teasing your abused clit. Your sensitivity at a high due to your nonstop cumming. “You’re soo..beautiful [Name]” He lulls into your ear, mouth against your heated skin as he speaks. “Look baby, look” he stops fidgeting with your bud, your eyes avert to his in the mirror. “Don’t ya look fucking gorgeous?” Mouth parted as he speaks, breathing hungrily as he takes your hand into his. Guiding your fingers through your folds, making you spread yourself nice and wide for him to marvel at how well you suck him in, he hisses feeling you squeeze him along with the gorgeous sight. He has your fingers run through your slit, gathering both his and your essence. You exhale at the action any light touch on your clit making you twitch. “Bet you taste as good you look” his eyes lock onto yours, “hmm?”. Your gaze never leaves his blues as he guides your hand up to your lips, the pure intimacy in your eyes as your lips fall open, giving him the opportunity to push your fingers into your mouth. Closing it shut, you relish in the sweet taste of you and your husband, moaning vulgarly as you suck and swirl your tongue around your digits. Causing your husband to further expand within you.

His eyes, lost in yours, clouded by his lust whilst he watches you swirl your hips. Gaining whatever friction from his cock Sitting deep within your walls. All the while you’re lost in the motion, your eyes rolling shut revelling in the sensation. Your sucking becoming weak as you grow a knot within your stomach, mouth loosening and drool running down your chin. Drunk with sweet bliss.

Fucking hell. You’re killing him.

“Fuck…c’mere” his hand faces you towards him, lips immediately magnetise. Giving Gojo a chance to taste both you and him. Hungrily devouring you, not giving you a bit of control as his tongue rolls, leading you whilst moaning. Gojo sucks In a breath feeling your soft walls pulsate and squeeze his girth, his lips hung on yours. Letting out pleasured breaths as he finally moves his hips again, nicely…slowly…gliding his length up into your drenched hole. His name rolls off your tongue barely above a whisper, Gojo lazily kisses you as his mind is now elsewhere, gradually increasing his speed now that both his hands held onto your hips. A yelp slips your tongue feeling his swollen tip hit your cervix. The creamy mess of your cum reaching both ears, evidence of your unceasing sex. Whatever words Gojo grunts out falling into deaf ears, a feeling of rapture throughout out your body. Your vision blurry due to a well up of tears, eyes glued to the ceiling, mouth remaining parted as rhythmic moans are beat out your throat every time Gojo’s hips bounced you upwards.

“Your pussy’s so goood [Name]” Groaning, Gojo spouts out whatever comes into his mind. Big hands squeezing the flesh of your hips whilst he enjoys your cunt socked on him. “Feels so- so good baby- fuck” he grunts eyes catching the motion of his length disappearing into your pussy, a white ring of cum developed around his base. A reminder of your previous rounds, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

Seeing your head hung over his shoulder, tits bouncing, tears streaming….He wants more, he needs to make his wife feel just how fucking amazing she is to him.

GETOU

One thing about Getou is his acts of service, that's his love language. He'd help you with your hair, help with cooking despite being horrible at it. Anything he feels would burden you he'd do it.

Despite his act of service, you love returning the favour - one thing between you two is you self care days. Getou only doing it because of you. You'd help him out with his long silky hair, massaging his scalp, oiling his face. all sorts.

"Is it nice" you whisper softly, smiling as you watch him relax into you. His eyes remain closed as he hums, enjoying the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp. You chuckle, reaching to get a serum for his face, whilst applying it you lean over to place a peck onto is lips. Getou’s purple eyes fluttering open to be met with the face of his beautiful wife, a fond smile spreads across his face as he watches the softness in your expression as you scrub his scalp. You’re always so gentle and pulpous with him. Just like he his with you.

He reaches his hand to take yours in, you let him although caught off guard. His lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss from him on your hand.

One thing you both love are drives, it didn't matter the destination or if there even is a destination. You both found amusement in having long drives either in comforting silence or with music. And during all that Getou's hands dont leave yours, interlocking your fingers in silence no matter how sweaty it gets he doesn't let go. Unless you stop for a snack.

Whenever your clothes go missing/ get damaged. Getou doesn't hesitate in replacing them. One day a bra or shirt of yours would be gone and the next day it'll be there right where you left it all brand new. Even if when you point out something you like, it'll be in your possession the next day.

Speaking of clothes getting damaged or lost. The reason being?. Your husband. Despite his cool demeanor and being your husband, Getou is a pervert for you. Stealing your clothes, enjoying their scent as he fucks himself using them. Just to make up for when you're not there.

You had gone out to meet your best friend because of an alleged emergency. And now Getou is left alone with his thoughts.

1 hour later, he finds himself watching a show to pass time. Frequently checking his phone to see if you’ve messaged him or called. But nothing. It doesn’t help when the last thing you said to him was hinting at something, something he knew very well what to be.

‘I have some things I wanna try out with you…’

Those words ring in his head and his mind goes into the gutter. Immediately thinking of the videos he came across on your laptop. You’ve both never done that before. Maybe?….

2 hours later, fuck… he groans into his hands. Unable to focus on the show. His dick was aching…throbbing for a release he can’t bear to resist any longer.

10 minutes past, and Getou finds himself digging through your dirty laundry. Eyes laying on that one lace panty he loves on you. He doesn’t waste time pulling the band of his sweats down to set himself free, tip angry and leaking with precum. Veins popping as if he was gonna explode. His mouth goes agape, letting out sharp breaths once he brings the piece of cloth to his nose. His free hand rubs his inflated tip whilst deeply inhaling the musky scent of your cunt.

“Fuck…Baby.” He gasps, eyes rolling as he begins to stroke his cock. Imagining your flooded hole welcoming him in. Desperately pumping him. “Sssshit [name]” he amps up speed, bringing the lace down to wrap around himself. He needs you. He needs so bad and you’re not here.

“[Name], [Name], [Name]— fuck ah—”

It’s not enough. He needs more, he’ll never cum this way. His hips buck into his hand in attempt to gain more friction, to replicate your gummy walls bouncing up and down him. Milking him. Emptying his balls till he’s all dried up.

“Yes baby…shit— ah- ah-”

His hand moves at an alarming speed, his release is right there. Within reach. A few more pants and strokes before he’s finally done, ropes of cum covering your laced panty, Getou hunching over as the release hits him hard. He groans, letting out a few breaths before looking at the mess he made.

All that mess and he’s still hard.

5 minutes pass.

“I need you- I need you-” Getou’s humping your pillow like a dog, rolling his hips into the soft cushion head thrown back at the frictions. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” already chasing his third orgasm, his tip sensitive and red from the action. Pillow soaked with his cum and sweat running down his torso. Your lace panty lays on the floor all stained with his seed, Getou payed it no mind. Telling himself he’d get rid of it later and buy you a new one tomorrow. Now a new pillow too. Your name chants from his lips multiple times, your face appearing to him every time he closes his eyes.

He just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough.

He wants his dick to be squeezed, drenched, overstimulated to his limit. Your moans, his name leaving your soft lips in a scream. Everything about you makes his thrusts harder. Sweet moans leave his lips, as he goes harder. His mind filled with your every being, voice, touch.

“Suguru”

“Agh…fuck…yes baby” Your voice sounded so real, Getou could only throb at the sound.

“What’re you doing?” Sounded too real, his head snaps to your doorway. Seeing you stood eyes wide as you watch your husband hump your pillow shamelessly. Even then he doesn’t stop, eyes locked on yours feeling not only his heart but his cock best at the sight of you. He should stop, he should stop. He repeats in his head, but his body refuses, the pure sight of you bringing him closer to a finish.

“[Name]” he grunts, face red and hair stuck to his skin. “I need you…please- please-” begging you, his voice cracks, the sounds going straight to your already wet core. And of course, you couldn’t deny it.

NANAMI

One thing about Nanami is his consideration. No matter the situation he’s always have you first in mind. After work he’d always stop by the convenience store to buy you your favourite snacks. Now you have a whole cupboard full of it.

Compared to him, you have much more energy than he does. So every time he’d try his best to entertain your interests since it makes you happy.

Just like Gojo - he praises you every chance he gets.

“Awww kento what’s this” you pick up the stunning dress from the bed, admiring the way it shimmers under the light.

Nanami watches you with a small smile, your eyes sparkling just like the dress “It reminded me of you” he mumbles just enough for you to hear before your throwing your arms around him “Thank you so much. I love it.” You place a long kiss on his cheek, his arms wrap around your waist staring into your eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you try it on? Since you like it so much let’s show it off” your brows perk up in shock. But then again, you should be used to this.

An hour later you’re coming out the bedroom all dressed up. The light in Nanami’s eyes glows once he lays them on you. What a beauty you are…

“I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve you” He speaks without thinking, reaching his hand out for you to take. “Oh stop it” you wave your hand, giggling like a Highschool girl receiving a compliment from her crush for the first time.

“I’m only stating the truth my love”.

Speaking of showing off. Nanami would never waste a chance to take you out, bringing you to restaurants, making sure you have your fill. Overall showing off his beautiful wife to let the world know how much of a lucky man he is to be graced with such a woman.

Working overtime is a habit Nanami can’t seem to get over. And because of that days or even weeks go by without you guys having that intimate time together. And Nanami, of course, always manages to make it up you.

“This is the least I can do. And no, you can’t return the favour” He speaks sternly, lifting you off the floor - hooking a hand underneath your knees and another around your torso.

“But you’ve been working. A lot. May I add and I’ll feel bad Kento” you argue as he places you on top of the massage bed. He plants a kiss onto your head, walking towards a cabinet “take your robe off”.

You watch him, annoyed by his disagreement. But oblige, a massage isn’t something you can easily pass on. And by your husband? You know it’ll be the best massage of your life. You lay face first on the bed, shuffling so you could get comfortable. You felt slightly chilly since Nanami suggested you go completely naked. But you have no complaints since it’s him.

“You ready?” He checks, his voice coming from your right.

“Mhmm”

Once you said that you felt a cool liquid dripping onto your back. The temperature sending shivers throughout your whole body. Your eyes close feeling his hands rub your back, spreading the oil whilst applying pressure.

“Relax for me [Name]” He spoke so calmly, so softly, it could put you to sleep. And on command you did. Relaxing just as your husband instructs, letting out hums of satisfaction whenever he hits the right spots. “Does it feel good?”. Fuck, his voice. That smooth, deep voice that you love so much. You’re trying so hard to ignore it, to not think so inappropriately about this innocent session.

“Yeah…you’re really good at this hun” you add, feeling his hands right above your rear, circles around your lower back. When he hits a specific spot you moan. “Right there Kento” you hiss as he goes back to area again, circling it until you’re satisfied “S’that good?” He inquires, making sure he’s done enough. And you nod, enjoying the tension being released.

Once he’s done with your back, he moves down to your legs, massive hands rubbing intently. Lathering them with oil. Doing to them what he did with your back.

You feel his hand move upward, now kneading your ass which caught you off guard. But you’re not complaining, rather, you giggle “Saving the best for last?” You imply, hearing Nanami sigh as he continues massaging.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of my answer” You could hear the smile in his tone. But you don’t push on, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Give me a sec”

Once he’s done, you hear his footsteps receding. Coming back after a few seconds later but he doesn’t do anything other stand there.

“Kento? What’re you doi— Ah!—” your husband causes you gasp as his fingers run through your folds with a cold oil. “K-Kento” your eyes expand, letting out a pleasured yelp as you hand springs to grip the massage bed. His fingers stuff you up so well, your insides already writhing. Turning you to mush as your husband's fingers slither deeper within you - the oil making it easier but also acting as an enhancement to your pleasure. What the fuck? you've felt good before but right now... you felt elated. And your moans only grew more intense as he went on.

“Judging from your reaction I made the right choice buying this oil.” He comments, fingers dragging in and out from your sopping cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel heat pool at your core, his fingers fucked you so good it’s almost embarrassing how they could bring you to this state.

“It’s only the two of us here my love. No need to restrain yourself” And with those words, a stimulation to your clit had you yelping. “Kento!”.

“Yes?”

Nanami is answered with a mewl, your body writhes beneath him. Legs springing up as a result of the overwhelming pleasure. Every once of your body felt hot. You felt goosebumps by your lower back where your husband’s hand laid whilst the other digs into your pussy, bringing you closer to climax.

“Too…ah…too much…” you barely manage to get your words out, constantly falling back into that world of pleasure. Mind solely focused on how your husband’s fingers glide against your sensitive walls, how they rub against clit. Oh…you were so close…and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, he felt your cunt clench around his digits. And with that your husband increases his speed, your body tenses. Legs stretching, and hands clenching as you were on the edge of climax.

Before you knew it. Flashes blind your vision as you came. Soaking your husband’s fingers with your juices.

Nanami gives you a chance to catch your breath, soothing you with a hand massaging your back. But he doesn’t let it prolong for too long since he still had to move into the second part of this massage session.

✦ Finally back on my grind.

[thegnomelord]

Imagine Intoxicated Sex With Ghost

CW:NSFW, MDNI, intoxicated sex (weed) Subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, safe/sane/consensual, smoking, playing with hands, anal, recreational drug use.

Ghost doesn't like being inebriated. Even when out drinking with the lads at the nearest pub he'll never reach the point of intoxication where he can't drive a car or punch a man's lights out if he needs to. He saw what booze did to his pa, saw what the drugs did to Tommy, he doesn't want the Riley 'legacy' to dig it's roots into him — just the thought of it makes his stomach churn and his lungs feel like they're infested with black mold.

But sometimes when both of you are on leave, the battlefield miles away yet the lingering ache of it all filling his bones with static, he'll indulge in the weed his doc prescribed. It took him a while to be comfortable to use it, both with himself and you. But he trusts you, knows you won't do anything to him that you two hadn't agreed to prior; you're good for him like that.

Too good.

Making the blunt feels intimate in a way Ghost can't describe. The way you sit right next to him on the couch, both of you on even level, works to relax some of the usual tenseness in his spine. It's the careful glide of your knife along the cheap cigar to create a clean cut so you can empty the dried leaves into the trash that has his heart beating a little faster — then again, he's always liked the look of a knife in your hands and how precise you could be with it.

He'd die before he told you his thoughts, so he takes the empty cigar paper without a word and carefully measures how much of the weed he puts in, just a little shy of the recommended dose. He feels your nonjudgmental gaze on his fingers as he rolls the makeshift blunt, yours might be the only one that doesn't make his skin prickle with discomfort.

"You're getting better at that." You note. Ghost's blunt making skill isn't such a slop-job as it used to be when he first started doing this, but it's by no means pretty. "Practice some more and they might start looking half-assed."

"Sod off." The edge in his tone would cut deeper if he didn't bump his shoulder against yours. "At least I don't make 'em look like logs of shite."

"Mean." You tut but shoulder his weight without complaint and wrap an arm around his waist. He leans further on you until he ends up laying across your lap, his back pinning your legs down and his head resting on the couch arm, making himself comfortable like a cat in a sunning spot.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" He says, staring at the blunt in his hand. You don't rush him, sitting in comfortable silence with your hand loosely carding through his disheveled hair, fingers scratching his scalp and the soft blond strands curling at his nape for a few minutes while Simon prepares himself. You know he's ready when he pulls the face mask off his face, biting the end of the blunt between his teeth and turning his head towards you.

You reach to hold his jaw, the sensation of your fingers scraping against his stubble both electric and calming for him. With a small 'click' an equally small flame sparks at the tip of the lighter, the fire dances in his dark eyes as you hold it at the other end of the blunt until it's tip is ignited.

Simon holds the blunt with his fingers, eyes closing as he takes a deep and controlled breath. The smoke lazily crawls down his trachea to settle in his lungs, he holds his breath until there's a small tightness in his chest before breathing out just as slowly. It takes a couple more puffs before he can feel the vestiges of that lazy high begin to nibble on his nerves, eyes cracking open to look at your visage through the dancing smoke.

Weed takes the edge off life for him; the constant ache of his body is easy to forget when the pleasant buzz fills his skull, chest full of feathers and a deep floaty calmness settling in his bones. Only his spine feels weird, like his lower back is made of kinetic sand, muscles tensing and relaxing but even that works to calm him down, ground him to the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair.

When a low grunt escapes him you lean down, plucking the blunt from his lips to kiss him. This kiss isn't rushed like most of your intimacy needs to be — you have all the time in the world. Ghost opens his mouth and hums into the kiss, the taste of weed on his tongue as he lazily licks into your mouth and along your teeth, lingering whisps of smoke escaping through the crack of both of your lips.

You part so he can take another drag of the blunt, your warm lips leaving chaste kisses on his forehead, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, eyelids when he flutters them shut, and anywhere where you can reach. From the corner of his eye he sees you turn the Tv on, setting some cartoon on a low volume to further ease him into the mental space of calmness. Then your free hand reaches to loosely hold his own free hand, your thumb tracing the scars on the back of his hand.

Your hands don't wander any lower, letting him feel your warmth while he lazily finishes his blunt until it's gone. "You alright Si?" You ask.

"Like a hog in shite." He manages, tilting his head to further lean into your hand that's scratching his scalp. It's something he loves about you — the slow approach you like to take with him. Not just jumping straight to sex, though that's fun too, but sitting there with him, letting him ramble about who knows what while you two watch some shite cartoon, giving him sweet kisses when his hand tugs on your shirt.

It makes Simon's heart feel like it could leap from his chest if his ribs weren't in the way. Fuck, at times like these he could probably spill his heart out to you if the weed didn't line his tongue with lead. He still tries in his own way, taking your hand that's holding his and starting to play with your fingers. Following the lines of your palm with his thumb, curling your fingers and laying sloppy kisses along your knuckles, humming contently when you hold his jaw loosely and scrape your thumb against his stubble.

Simon doesn't know when he gets aroused. Only that one moment he's not, and by the time you two part from another lazy kiss he's tenting his sweatpants.

"Hey," Simon grunts, holding your hand by the wrist as he nibbles on your finger. "Want you."

"You already have me." You snort.

Even high as a kite Simon's not all too pleased with your humor, nipping your finger just at the edge of pain. "Smart arse." His lips follow his teeth to soothe the bite with a small kiss. "Want your cock."

Straight to the point, that one.

A small laugh escapes you, "Alright, alright." He grumbles like a bear roused from hibernation when you have him sit up. He grips your shirt to demand one more kiss from you, your lips distracting him so he doesn't notice when you pick him up. The face he makes is hilarious, like a dog that thinks he's too heavy to be picked up.

But he gets over it quickly, large arms wrapping around your neck to hold onto you as you stumble to the bedroom. A breath escapes him when you lay him down on the bed and he doesn't let go, resulting in you tumbling into bed on top of him. The curse you let out when you fall on him makes him giggle like a school boy.

He's absolutely no help when you try to take his clothes off, laying there like a sack of potatoes and only occasionally wriggling in place. Simon gives you an annoyed look and a chiding "Why'r you so slow?" when you have him lift his hips so you can slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock bobs against his belly, a tiny drop of precum smearing against his skin.

"Because you're no help." You grunt, quickly taking your own clothes off. "Seriously Si, you're like trying to move a mountain."

But you don't mind him being like this. You love it, and you love him when he just huffs something under his breath and flops over on his front. He spreads his legs, his hard cock laying between his thighs and his hole just peeking out from between his cheeks. "Mhm," Humming Simon hugs the pillow, nuzzling his cheek into it as he gives you a lazy look, his pupils blown wide and eyes puffy. "Sounds like an excuse t'me."

Even with you it took him a while before he could turn his back to you like this, trust you like this.

"Fuck Simon, look at you." Gently you push another pillow under his hips to hike them up and the way he arches his back to grind his cock against it has your breath stuttering in your chest. You can't keep your hands off him, gingerly massaging the back of his thighs as you slowly trail up, purposely skipping over his ass to dig your thumbs into his lower back. "Gorgeous."

Simon lets out a slow breath as your fingers make the muscles relax, eyes closing and his back rippling as he melts into the sheets. "Well aren't you a charmer." His voice is mumbled into the pillow and the small wiggle of his ass he does to entice you is cute as hell. "C'mon." He nags, throwing the harshest glare he can at you. "Fuck me already." He demands, but he doesn't try to get up from his position, content to just lay and have you listen to his commands.

That's another thing side of Ghost you only see when he's high as a kite — he likes being a pillow prince, to give you orders and rest easy knowing you won't do anything he doesn't want. If it doesn't make your heart melt, that he trusts you like that, you don't know what will.

"Alright, alright," You placate him by finally groping his ass while you grab the lube on the nightstand with your other hand. You squirt a generous amount on your hand and warm it up between your fingers, settling between his legs in a way you can lay kisses along his spine while you slowly circle your fingers around his hole. You reach around with your other hand to lazily stroke him, the lube making the glide of your hand smooth and pleasant.

He's more vocal like this, a low half moan leaving him as Simon closes his eyes. Usually the feeling of a body looming over his back would have him tensing and bearing his teeth, but all he does now is breathe in and relax, muscles tensing for a fraction of a moment when your fingers breach him before he relaxes again. Simon's arms tense to hug the pillow tighter, the soft material muffling the soft moans and deeper grunts you pull from his chest with every small movement of your finger.

It's impossible for you not to tease him. "You like that, sweet prince?" But your tone is light and loving, pushing your finger deeper and distracting him from the small hints of pain the stretching of his muscles brings by stroking his cock more firmly, thumbing his cumhole.

Simon moans unabashedly and nods, biting the pillow and worrying it between his teeth when you push another finger inside him. "Mhm," He doesn't deny it. He can't deny it when the weed in his system makes the pleasure 10 times stronger, the usual electric pleasure now slowly replacing the marrow in his bones as your fingers twist and curl against his slick walls. "So good fer me." He mumbles.

Simon feels like he's floating on a cloud; Each kiss along his spine makes small shivers race down his limbs, the coldness of you pouring more lube over his hole complementing the heat of your hand around his cock, his drool soaking into the pillow and the sweetest sounds escaping him as you stretch him out. His cock leaks a constant stream of precum, his hips occasionally giving minute twitches to fuck into your hand but he's too relaxed to do more than that.

"Ready?" You ask when you think he's stretched enough, slowly pulling your fingers out of him. His hole clenches around nothing, dollops of slick lube escaping past his rim and running down his heavy balls; neither him nor his body is happy about the sudden lack of stimulation.

"Hurry." He orders, cracking an eye to watch you from the corner of his eye as you trail kisses up his spine until you're draped over him, catching his lips in a sloppy kiss while you lube your cock and line yourself up.

He moans into your mouth when the tip of your cock pops into him. "Fuck, yes lovie- just like that. . ." Your name sounds like honey on his tongue as you slide in deeper. His muscles contract and relax with each inch you push into him until he's left panting against the pillow when your balls finally rest against him. He's so hot around you, slick and pliant and trusting, blindly seeking you out for another kiss as you both adjust to the new position.

"Good?" You lazily stroke his cock again, feeling his back muscles ripple against your front as the pleasure washes over his system.

"Perfect." He moans and rolls his hips into your hand, simultaneously fucking himself onto your cock. "Move."

"Yes sir." You grin. You keep the pace slow and loving, a continuous and slow roll of your hips making your cock drag against his prostate. Reaching out to hold his free hand you rock your hips to meet his own movements. Each slow scrape of your cock against his walls has him whimpering, an occasional sharp thrust earning you a pleased moan, the pillow muffling the little breathy 'ah- hah-hm- ah' he makes when you grind your cock as deep as it'll go while rubbing his shaft.

Pleasure continues to build in his body, muscles tensing and relaxing, every single thought melting out of his skull save for your name that he moans like a prayer, your loving movements slowly and steadily turning Simon into a pile of goo. He doesn't even notice when he cums, it rushes through him like lightning striking a tree, pearly cum spurting over your hand as he shouts a loud "Fuck!".

You slow down only for a few seconds, long enough for him to come down from his high and begin grumbling and whining, showing you that he's nowhere near reaches his limit despite his cock softening in your hand. So you indulge his gluttonous side, starting to slowly thrust into him as you stroke his soft shaft. You cum eventually, his hole greedily clenching around you as you shoot your cum inside him and then keep going on fucking him until his voice becomes hoarse from screaming your name.

By the time you two are well and truly done you're both wrung dry, a sizable puddle of cum formed beneath his cock and his hole loose and lax, trying to clench around your cock and the cum you fucked deep inside him.

You use what sense you have in your skull that hadn't melted through your cock to roll you to over on the side so he's not laying in his own cum. Simon grunts when you attempt to pull out, gripping your hand as tightly as his relaxed muscles can until you get the message and lay back down, spooning him with your cock still deep inside him.

And fuck, the buzz of weed and pleasure from sex has him so loose and relaxed you could do anything to him and he wouldn't object. But you don't, simply cuddling up against his back and kissing his sweaty nape.

He loves you for that. He loves that he can trust you. He doesn't know when the last time was when he was this relaxed. A small giggle escapes him and he tilts his head back so you can lay kisses on his neck.

"Love you too Si." He hears you mutter against his ear before he falls asleep. And for the first time since the last time you two did this, does he sleep without the nightmares of a cold grave and a burning home haunting his dreams.

Tag list: @dead-end-stuff

[kaiijo]

DATES WITH HIM — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, kaji ren, togame jo content: gn! reader notes: i did not come up with the date idea in suo's! also i recommend reading the mentioned works in suo’s part and listening to the song in kaji’s! obvious togame bias i’m sorry (but i’m also not)

suo hayato ✶ bookstore date

you saw the idea of a bookstore scavenger hunt date and it was too cute to resist. with your list in hand, you and suo make your way to your favorite neighborhood bookstore. the old lady who runs it greets the two of you before attending to other customers. suo leans over your shoulder to look at the first item. “find a joke to make your partner laugh.”

you make your way to the joke book shelf, where suo picks up a paperback titled 100 dad jokes to make anyone bust a side! he flips through it and lands on a page. “which days are the strongest?”

“i don’t know, which ones?”

he stares at you dead in the eye as he answers, “saturday and sunday. the rest are weekdays.”

you can’t help but snort and roll your eyes, and suo says, “we’re counting that!” and you check it off the list because you don’t know if you can take another cheesy dad joke. 

you read out the next bullet point: “find a puzzle to conquer together.”

you find and complete a crossword puzzle in a magazine (you kept the magazine with you to buy later). your scavenger hunt list leads you through the travel section to talk about your dream vacation spots; the children’s section where you find your favorite childhood books; and the cookbook aisle where you find a recipe you both want to cook together. finally, the last task challenges you to find a poem that describes your partner.

you and suo split up in the poetry section for that. you thumb through pages and pages but nothing is able to capture just how you feel for suo. you find one finally just as he walks over to you, a poetry anthology in hand. you read to him kevin varrone’s “poem i wrote sitting across the table from you” and he recites joy harjo’s poem “for keeps.” 

your heart feels like its about to burst as he finishes and you take his hand in yours, bring it to your lips for a kiss. his gaze is soft as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

kiryu mitsuki ✶ arcade date

you pout as you watch the final pac-man score flash on the screen in big, pixelated numbers: 150 to 170. kiryu ruffles your hair affectionately. “we’re all tied up again,” he says. “two to two. what do you want for the tie-breaker?”

you peer around the arcade, glancing at the flashing screens of various games. there’s street fighter, space invaders, and other classics but it’s the air hockey table that catches your eye. you nod at it. “settle the score over good old-fashioned air hockey?”

“sounds good,” he says and you two make your way over to it.

just as you arrive, another couple shows up. “oh, shit,” the other guy says when he and his girlfriend approach at the same time. 

“sorry,” you say. “you guys can have it if you want.”

“no, no, you two came first,” the girlfriend says.

“it’s seriously fine!”

“no, really, it’s cool!”

you’re all at a standstill, neither party willing to takeover the table. instead, kiryu pipes up, “there are four pushers, why don’t we play on teams? a friendly competition.”

“i’m down!” the girl smiles and turns to her boyfriend. “what do you think?”

“i say we crush ‘em!”

“ooh, those are fighting words!” you call, looping you arm through kiryu’s. “ready to kick some ass, mitsuki?”

“always.”

the competition is fierce — the other couple is a lot better than you thought and you’re playing best of seven rounds. it’s the tie breaker and you narrowly manage to block a shot from the other guy. the puck bounces off the sides, hurtling across the board towards kiryu, who easily deflects it back. the volley goes back and forth and there are far too many times it almost sinks into their goal.

the other couple just blocks a shot again and the puck is heading for you. you hit it at the right angle and it just ekes past the defense, sliding into the goal to end the game 4 to 3. you congratulate each other on a good game and kiryu sighs, “i guess that settled the score between us too, huh?”

“what do you mean?”

“you made the winning goal.” he holds out the tickets he’s won. “let’s go get you a prize.”

umemiya hajime ✶ farmer’s market date

“whoa! these squash look so good! how did you grow them? did you plant them in may or june?” umemiya’s eyes are wide and bright as he listens intently to the farmer’s answer. you don’t think you’ve seen him this excited before, which is saying a lot given his enthusiasm for almost anything. 

she smiles warmly at the two of you, asking, “how many would you like?”

“three,” you reply, reaching for your wallet, but umemiya is holding out the money for her before you can even open your bag. 

the farmer shakes her head, gently pushing his hand back. “it’s on the house,” she says, plucking a packet of seeds from a small wooden crate at the edge of the stall. “and i’ll throw these in too, all free of charge!”

“oh, please, we insist,” you begin to protest but she just shakes her head again. 

“it’s been a long time since someone has been this curious about my produce,” she chuckles, “and i’m not about to make a lovely young couple pay for this! all i ask is that you two raise the squash lovingly.”

“we will, i promise,” umemiya says, taking the bag of squash from her. as you two continue through the farmer’s market, umemiya interlocks your fingers, using his other hand to motion to the other stalls you pass. 

he says, “we have tomatoes and cucumbers already but we need mushrooms! oh, those look good!” he already leading you to another vendor, surveying the cartons of wood-ear mushrooms. you raise a brow in amusement as he buys five cartons, humming a cheery song. 

“what’s all this for, again?”

he beams at you. “the summer barbeque!”

“ahh, right!” you smile. “the infamous summer barbeque.” you glance around the market, pointing out a stall selling sausages and other meats. “i think we’ll want to get some protein, then, since your boys eat enough for a hundred men.”

“babe, you’re a genius!”

hiragi toma ✶ cooking date

make dinner at home for date night, they said. it’ll be fun, they said. you think anyone who said this is a fun, stress-free date is a total liar.

“alright,” you sigh as you clean the frying pan of egg residue for the third time. “well, fourth time’s a charm!”

hiragi pops a stomach tablet out of its packaging and chomps down on it. “you said that the last two times.”

“this one’s going to be the one!” you chirp, reaching for the egg carton. “it has to be, since these are our last four eggs.”

hiragi lets out a long, heavy breath before slipping his apron back on. “okay, one more time.” 

hiragi throws a large tablespoon of butter down the pan, tilting the pan from side to side as the melting butter coats the surface. you crack the four eggs into the measuring cup and beat them with a whisk, tipping a little drop of it onto the butter. it sizzles promisingly and you and hiragi share a glance and nod, then you pour the eggs in.

you stir the eggs quickly with a pair of chopsticks, stopping as you see the omelet beginning to smooth. hiragi tilts the pan to let the uncooked egg mixture start to cook, doing his best to keep the curds even and level. 

the new portion of eggs scramble and you spoon your chicken rice mix into the center of the omlet, roughly shaping it into an football-shape as hiragi kills the heat. “good?” you ask him, motioning with your chopsticks at the pile of rice.

“good.” he lifts the pan. “hot pan, coming through!” he places it on the damp rag on your counter. you slide the omlet to the edge of the pan, carefully wrapping the rice with egg on both sides. hiragi’s already moved to get a plate and you hold your breath as he slides it carefully onto the plate.

success.

you let out collective sighs of relief. 

kaji ren ✶ concert date

you had spent hours in an online queue to get kaji tickets to see his favorite band for his birthday. luckily, the venue isn’t too long a train ride from makochi but when you severely undersold how many people can cram themselves into the venue.

kaji’s grip is firm as you weave your way through the crowd, pushing closer to the stage. some guy jostles you, grumbling under his breath, only to apologize when he faced kaji’s cold glare. your boyfriend manages to get the two of you to a decent spot near the front, just off right of the center. 

“what song are you most excited for?” you ask him, speaking as close to his ear as possible. the din around you is getting louder and the crowd more electrified, so you know it’s starting soon.

“wasted nights,” he replies easily. 

you hum, “that sounds familiar. it’s on the playlist you made for me, right?”

his mouth lifts into a small smile. “yeah, i think it’s number eleven or twelve.” just as he is about to add something, the lights around you begin to flash and pulse as the ambient music dies down. the band comes out to thunderous cheers as they take up their instruments. 

even though you don’t know the band well, you can’t help but jump and dance with the crowd, and you sing along to parts you can remember. kaji’s not one for rowdiness himself but he thrives off the energy from it — you can see it in the way he bobs his head in rhythm, the way he seems completely in his element. as the fourth songs in the set transitions into the fifth one, a slower ballad this time, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pecks your cheek. “thank you again,” he says. “i’m glad i’m here with you.”

you burrow further into his side, swaying to the music. “happy birthday, ren.” 

togame jo ✶ pottery class date

you tilt your head as the pottery wheel slows to a stop, examining the mug you were instructed to make. the rim is uneven and it’s leaning towards the left. togame’s isn’t any better given that his mug looks shorter and stouter than the rest of the class and the handle is fully too long. when the pottery teacher walks over, she offers a sweet smile. “beautiful work,” she says. “they both have a unique charm to them.”

“thanks, we totally meant to make them this way,” you say and she carefully brings them to the shelf where the other attendees’ mugs sit waiting for the kiln. 

oddly enough, seeing your mugs together makes them look somewhat normal, almost like an eclectic set, and when you glance at togame, he meets your eyes and you two try to suppress your laughter, togame’s broad shoulders shaking with effort. as you stand side by side, washing your hands in the classroom’s sink, togame smirks. he reaches over and claps a hand on your shoulder, leaving a large, damp terracotta-colored handprint on your shirt. 

you narrow your eyes and do the same, this time on the side of his own t-shirt. his hand touches your back and yours grazes his chest. you could probably do this forever but someone clears their throat behind you and you apologize as you actually finish cleaning up, stepping aside for another couple to wash themselves off. 

togame drapes an arm around your shoulder as you leave the building, saying, “i think i won, babe.” 

you know he’s talking about the stains all over both of your clothes but all you do is smirk at him. “i think i won, actually, since this is your shirt.”

he shrugs. “i wish i could be mad, but you look too good in my clothes to complain.”

bonus!

you return two weeks later when your “unique” mugs are primed for glazing. you two agreed to keep the final designs on your pottery a surprise so you sit as far away from each other with your backs turned. in the end, you two had similar ideas — he chose your favorite color as a background and painted on a pattern of your favorite flowers while you glazed your mug in orange and black with an attempt at a the lion face on the shishitoren jackets, albeit yours is way less threatening and much cuter. 

your mugs sit in each of your cabinets at your homes in all their uniquely beautiful glory, your new favorites — well-used and well-loved. one day, they’ll be together again, side-by-side in a cabinet that you two shared together.

[beesspacedotorg]

bee what about calling chan daddy for the first time??

hihi. uhm. putting warnings is too hard. i hope u enjoy ems <3

warnings: oral (m rec), daddy king (duh), uh. tbh there probably should've been more discussion about what's going on here before it happened but there wasn't gender neutral reader as usual

You’ve been fussing at him all day. To be honest, you’re not even sure why, you’ve just been having a bad time and Chan managed to be in the right place at the wrong time and now he’s contracted your ire. It’s unfair to him, and a part of you knows this, but a larger part of  you is pissed off that he’s breathing so fucking loud, so you’ll just apologize later.

“Baby, are you planning on doing the dishes today or-”

“God, can you shut up?!” There’s a moment where you both stare at each other in shock. You don’t yell at each other. Chan raised his voice at you once before and you cried so hard you almost threw up, and after that you both agreed the two of you wouldn’t let it get to that point ever again. You don’t yell at each other, and yet, your voice has raised to dangerous decibels because your boyfriend asked you about the dishes.

“Okay, what is your problem?”

“Problem? I don’t have a problem.” That is not what was supposed to come out of your mouth. You know it, and Chan especially knows it, because he raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Are you sure? Because you just yelled at me.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“Then what do you call that? Speaking with purpose?”

“Yes. Speaking with purpose. You’re also doing the exact opposite of what I told you to do anyway.” Chan brings his hands to his head to rub his temples, and for a second you think you’ve gone a step too far. You’re ready to apologize to him, to inform him that somewhere between the dishes and now your anger has been replaced with a weird eagerness for him and that maybe you should’ve apologized for yelling at him before starting to play a horny game, but he takes a step towards you before you can open your mouth.

“You have two seconds to apologize to me.” Chan’s voice is tense, a voice you’ve heard people describe as his “leader voice.” You would describe it as something else, but you’re not that brave, so you haven’t yet.

You stare at him instead of apologizing, blinking once and then twice at him. You watch as he clenches his jaw and see the tick of his muscle in real time.

“Okay. Fine.” Oh, you’re fucked. Literally. He grabs your arm and bodily hauls you off the couch. You knew what he was going to do, and you go along with it, so luckily he doesn’t chuck you across the living room.

“Chan.” He keeps dragging you towards your bedroom. “Chan.” You’re pretty sure he’s not listening on purpose. “Christopher.”

“God,” he starts, and you know how his sentence is going to finish before it’s fully out of his mouth, “can you just shut up?” Hearing your own words parroted back at you makes you frown.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why not? That’s how you were talking to me earlier.” You roll your eyes at him and open your mouth to respond and then he’s kissing you well enough that you don’t care anymore.

“Baby, I wasn’t kidding. That mouth has gotten you in enough trouble, why don’t you just keep it shut, hmm?” You frown at him again, brows furrowing and he pushes you onto your knees and sits on the bed. You stare up at him from your spot on the floor, lips still downturned and then he’s fishing his cock out of his shorts and yanking you towards him by your hair.

“Hey! Let go!” You reach up and dig your nails into his wrist and he grunts at you.

“What is your problem today?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Sure.” He brings your face closer to his dick. “Suck.” You shut your mouth with a click of your teeth and when you look up at him you can see that he’s thrown his head back in exasperation.

“Jesus, why are you being like this?” You cross your arms over your chest and you hear him sigh. His hand untangles itself from your hair to press at the hinge of your jaw, forcing it open until he can slip fingers inside your mouth and open you up for himself.

“Ow-” Your muffled protest is cut off by the heft and weight of Chan’s cock being shoved into your mouth. You aren’t insane enough to bite him, but you are insane enough to not move. You’re unsure why, but there’s something in you that wants to push him and see what he’ll do, see just how far you can annoy your sweet, lovely Channie until he becomes something else entirely.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” You can’t help the way your lip twitches into a smirk from where it’s wrapped around the girth of Chan’s dick, can’t help the way it takes you a second to school your expression into something bored and uninterested. Chan sees it though, because of course he does. Sees the way your eyes widened for a second when you got caught before flattening out. You hear him huff a laugh, finally catching on, before he’s dragging one of your hands to rest on his thigh and taking your head between his palms.

“Fine.”

He starts a rough pace right off the bat. Doesn’t give you any time to adjust before his cockhead is ramming cruelly against the back of your throat. You gag, drool bubbling past your lips, down your chin, dripping onto the floor. Your hand lifts off his thigh for a moment, taken aback, and his pace slows. He pulls halfway out of your mouth and then you put your hand back on his leg like nothing happened and he’s back to using his cock as a battering ram to your throat.

“Kept mouthing off,” he grunts, slightly out of breath. “You and I both know that this is all your little mouth is good for.”

He keeps on like that until you’re crying, until tears are slipping down your cheeks and your nose is running a little. Uses you as nothing more than a fleshlight until your eyes are red rimmed and your knees are sore. He pulls out and tilts your head back to look into your eyes. Your head is swimming from the lack of oxygen and your vision is blurry from tears and something else. He looks at your face and down at the floor and his cock twitches.

“Made a mess,” he scoffs, derisive. “Are you done?” You whine at him, you have no idea what he’s asking anymore. He shakes your head a little.

“Brat. I asked you a question.”

“Channie- daddy.” Your voice is hoarse and wobbly, your hands are grabbing at his thighs and you're leaning your weight into him. You hear him inhale sharply and suddenly the hands on your head shift from a grab to a cradle.

“Oh, baby.” He hauls you up into his lap. “Look at me.” You do, whatever Chan finds in your face makes him soft.

“Was that all you needed, sweetheart? Was for daddy to set you straight.” You nod at him and he coos.

“Daddy’s not done yet, baby.” You whine. He laughs. “You gave me a hard time there, honey. A bit of face fucking isn’t gonna make that up to me, you know that.”

You do know that. It isn’t gonna stop your pout though. Chan sees your face and laughs.

“Lay on your back,” he says. “Maybe if you apologize well enough, I’ll give you a reward after.”

[mimisplayground]

Jealous Jealous Jealous Boy ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Tags: Hookups, Jealous Toji, Rough Sex, Dumbification, all fully consented!!, Orgasm denial briefly, dacryphilia, Mean Toji

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Toji Fushiguro was a lot of things.

A womanizer.

A sleaze.

A bum.

And most importantly to you, a great fuck.

Which was really all you cared about, if you had to think about it. When he was behind you, and his pace was downright cruel, you found yourself caring very little about the rest of the things that Toji was.

Because out of the two men you kept on speed dial for a quick hook up, Toji was certainly the one you frequented most. His thrusts bordered onto brutal and the huffs and groans he made when you two were fucking like dogs in heat, it was nothing short of pure bliss in your opinion.

And there was rarely any real talking involved. Small words exchanged before he would demolish you and then leave. The other hook up was better at talking. But you really shouldn’t be thinking about that guy. Speak of the devil and all of that.

Though, you had a feeling the real devil was the man behind you, when you caught a glimpse of the frown on his face as he stared at your now ringing phone. And yeah, maybe “Quick Hookup #2” wasnt the most discreet name, but how were you supposed to know you would have to be discreet on your own phone? The glare Toji had was deadly, and his thrusts had completely stopped.

A silence overtook the room at that point, the phone finally finished ringing before a ding spiked through the silence. You hear Toji hum to himself, reading off the text in his head before his voice, with a cruel tone to it, read it out loud. “Had fun last night babe, wanna link again tonight…” he finished off like it was just something in the news.

You quickly go to crawl away, caught off guard by the hand that pushes you down, and stayed firm on your back. “Why you runnin’ away, babe?” His voice downright murderous and you could only let out what could be described as a squeak in response.

When your silence rang out, Toji laughed. An insincere, mean, and angry laugh. And when his hips snapped forward and you let out a harsh wail at the unexpected movement, the laugh turned to more of a growl.

“Now you wanna make a noise,” He huffs, your phone abandoned and both hands gripping your hips harshly “now that I’m fucking you the way you needed, ain’t that right slut?” His words are cruel and his thrusts are even crueler. Your moans and sobs are echoing through the room, barely able to get louder than the slapping of skin.

The room smelled of sex and sweat and you couldn’t possibly think straight, nothing could fix the almost broken babble streaming out of your mouth. Small and pitiful pleas of “sorry” “didn’t mean it” “gonna cum” and indecipherable babble between it. A tiny please peaking through some of the rambling if you listened hard enough.

“Oh you’re sorry? Sorry but you’re still begging for this dick, fucking whore.” He grunts out, his grip getting tight enough that you could expect bruises there in the morning. And right as you were at the peak, teetering that edge, he stopped.

You let out a broken sob, pleading for him to continue before your phone was held in front of your face, with “Quick Hookup #2” pulled up on your phone in your contacts. “Block ‘em. Or I’ll quit fucking you right now.” Toji said firmly, letting your hands grasp the phone and fumble with it, dropping it once or twice before finally managing to click the block button.

When your phone was pulled from your hands, you let out a sigh of relief as the thrusts picked up again. “If I ever find out you go fucking someone else again, I’ll kill them and fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.” He huffed, and then the brutal thrusts started again, and his skin slapped against yours. And even as you reached your peak this time, he didn’t stop.

He fucked you through your first orgasm and sent you hurdling straight towards a second one, dismissing your twitches to get away in favor of your pleads for more coming from your mouth.

And that night you learned something else about Toji Fushiguro that you never knew before.

He was an extremely jealous man.

——————-

I HOPE YOU ALL LOVED IT!! DIFFERENT FROM WHAT IVE WRITTEN BUT STILL!! HOPE IT WAS AMAZING!! TELL ME IF U WANT MORE!!

[hqbaby]

twenty-four — kiss and tell

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

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word count. 1.7k content. profanity, angsty flashback, naoya is a dumbass

What happened that night is all a blur to you now. You remember little between dragging Satoru out of his bedroom to join the others outside and making the worst mistake of your life, and even that you can’t say you remember for certain.

You know that the night had started well enough. You and Shoko spent most of your time dancing and occasionally crashing on the couch to engage in extremely pretentious conversations about the state of the world with the group of political science majors who had camped out there. Like most of Yuji’s parties, the night had involved copious amounts of alcohol and little critical thinking.

“I’m gonna go get some water,” you told Shoko through the blaring music. “You want anything?”

She pointed at her cup. “Get me another one?”

You chuckled. “Haven’t you had enough?”

“Nope!” she said, grinning at you. “Keep ‘em coming!”

“Your wish is my command.”

You stumbled past the group of boys who were having a competition for how many chips they could stuff in their mouth, past the girls who were contemplating getting matching tattoos, the couples who existed a world away from the one you were living in.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar pair of blue eyes and a mop of white hair. You frowned, not finding him anywhere.

You went into the kitchen, skirted past the two boys who were trying to figure out what those giant Q-tip looking things that people fought with were called—pugil sticks, you later found out—and grabbed yourself a bottle of water and a drink for Shoko.

You remember wanting to find Satoru, wanting to see where your beloved boyfriend had disappeared to. That was why you walked down the corridor to the bathroom. That was why you happened upon Suguru’s bedroom, the door opened just a crack. That was why you heard what you heard, why things changed the way that they did.

“He was looking at rings.”

You knew better than to eavesdrop. Years of living in the same house as your parents, where there was a daily occurance of arguments behind closed doors, had taught you that there were some things you were better off not knowing. Some things that you couldn’t unhear after you heard them, things you shouldn’t have to hear at all.

But Suguru’s voice drew you in. His words even more.

You leaned in towards the door thinking, How bad can it be?

It was Yuta who spoke next. “Rings?” he said. “For her?”

“Yeah,” Satoru’s best friend spoke. “He’s getting serious about this. I think it might actually be real this time.”

Now, that made you press your ears against the door. They were talking about you and your boyfriend. They were talking about how serious your relationship had become.

If you were being honest, you were scared shitless by the whole thing. After high school, you hadn’t so much as looked at the boys who sauntered in your direction. You were aware of your tendencies—“a lack of self-preservation skills,” as Sukuna often called it—and you never thought that any relationship was worth the pain you could inflict on the other person, the pain they could inflict on you.

But Satoru had come into your life all bright and good. Perfect was the only way you could describe it. The kind of perfection that had you wanting to catch up, to be worth whatever pain you both could suffer if things turned sour. The kind of perfect that made you want to be perfect too.

Your heart was light at Suguru’s words. He was looking at rings. He believed in what the two of you had. It was real.

But then you heard a laugh. Naoya.

“Satoru doesn’t do ‘real,’” he said in that haughty tone of his. “He likes the spectacle. The show of it all.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Yuta said. You could hear his frown through his words. “He loves her, I think we can all see that.”

“We all know he went for her because she was a challenge to him,” Naoya insisted. “It’s the perfect story: The untouchable girl falls for the college heartthrob. They get married and live happily ever after—it’s fucking disgusting.”

You heard Suguru laugh. “You’re just jealous because you have some weird crush on her.”

“I’m not jealous. I just recognize his patterns. They’re so fucking predictable.”

His patterns. Satoru’s patterns.

What patterns?

“Do you remember Hana from freshman year?” Naoya continued. “She was really pretty, really sweet. He was in love with her, wasn’t he?”

“Sure, but—”

“And Miyoko after he and Hana broke up? He was convinced he was gonna marry her too.”

“Okay, but—”

“Wasn’t he seeing Kana when he convinced himself he needed to have—”

“Fine!” Suguru groaned. “He has a pattern. He’s a fucking romantic. We get it, man.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” Naoya said. “The moment she stops living up to his standards, the moment the illusion breaks, he’s going to move on to the next perfect girl. It’s just what he does.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You’d known about Satoru’s past, the girlfriends he had that he swore to you were different. You were different, that was what he told you. You were the only one he’d ever wanted in that way.

You heard someone groan on the other side of the door.

“Is he awake?” Yuta asked.

There was a shuffle of fabric. The sheets on Suguru’s bed.

“Nope,” Suguru said. “Still pretty blacked out.”

You looked through the crack in the door. The three boys were on the floor beside the bed and passed out on the sheets was your boyfriend. Your perfect boyfriend.

You suddenly felt lightheaded. You felt confused. You felt sick.

Everyone’s gathered in the living room. Mahito is sprawled out on the couch, barely lifting his head as he speaks.

“I hate hide and seek,” he says. “Whose idea was it anyway?”

“I thought it was fun!” Utahime says, grinning.

“We had fun too,” Sukuna chimes in. He slings an arm around Kento—who does his best to shrug him off to no avail—and smiles at the man. “Didn’t we?”

Kento’s look of disdain is the only answer he gets.

Everyone else laughs and starts chatting about the game, filling up new cups of alcohol and settling around the fire. Until—

“Where’s tiger?” Sukuna asks eventually once he’s circled the room looking for you. “Mahito, did you find her?”

The other boy grunts on the couch. “I dunno.”

Maki grows pale, coming to the same conclusion that you’re not here. She glances over at Satoru who’s sitting on a chair with Kimi on his lap. His eyes are distant, staring into the fireplace. She looks around again. And she realizes.

“Where’s Naoya?” she asks.

The whole room grows quiet.

“Are they not here?” Nobara scans the room. “They’re not…”

Satoru looks around now too. He sees what everyone sees. There are only two people missing in this room: You and Naoya.

He grimaces. “Where the fuck are they?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Naoya had his body turned to you, the two of you still sitting in the cramped compartment. You don’t know how long you’ve been in here. It feels like hours have passed already.

“No,” you tell him, leaning against the wall behind you.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re such a pain.”

“Back at you.”

“No, but really,” he says, sitting tall as he folds his hands on his lap. “Why’d you do it?”

You frown. “Do what?”

“Kiss me,” he answers. He cracks a grin. “Not that I’m complaining or anything—”

“Holy shit, shut the fuck up.” You bury your face in your hands. “Don’t ask me that.”

In truth, you don’t actually remember the kiss. Just that it happened. Just that you’d done it, that you’d decided to ruin everything.

But what was there to ruin in the first place? The whole thing had already been crumbling beneath you without you knowing.

He prods your foot with his. “I just wanna know.”

“I don’t know,” you tell him. When he looks at you, unimpressed with your answer, you shrug. “I realized some things. Or I was confused about them at least. I needed to… do something.”

“So you kissed me,” he says. “Out of nowhere, you come up to me and kiss me because you needed to do something?”

You tilt your head. “Is that how it happened?”

Naoya narrows his eyes, shifting a little. “You don’t remember?”

“No,” you say, and you realize how lame that probably sounds. “I just know that I did it. I wasn’t really thinking. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“You don’t remember,” he repeats like he doesn’t believe you.

“Yes, Naoya, I don’t fucking remember,” you say, exasperated. “How many times are you gonna say that?”

He shakes his head. “What do you think happened?”

You furrow your brows at his tone. “What did happen?”

Naoya studies you for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re just being mean to him. If you’re just pretending not to remember to psych him out. But he knows you better than that, you wouldn’t stoop that low.

“We were at the party,” he says slowly. “I was outside the house. Trying to get some air, you know, because Yuji had just thrown up on the carpet like a fucking idiot and I didn’t wanna clean it up.”

He pauses, gauging your response. You nod at him to continue.

“And you showed up,” he says. “And you sat down beside me and you were real quiet for a moment. And then you leaned over and kissed my cheek and said ‘thank you’ and—”

“Wait, what?” You gape at him. “I kissed your cheek?”

“Yeah, my cheek. And you said—”

“I kissed your cheek and thanked you?” you ask, louder. “That’s it?”

Naoya frowns. “Yeah, I fucking thought you knew that.”

“I didn’t know that!” you exclaim. “I kissed your cheek?” You slap his arm. “This whole time, when you said that we kissed—you mean that I kissed your fucking cheek?”

“Yeah!” he says. “You kissed my fucking cheek and thanked me! I thought you knew what I meant!”

You feel your eye twitch. You want to punch him or pull his hair or—

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you say, throwing your hands at him haphazardly, ultimately unable to decide how you were going to try and hurt him. “This whole fucking time that was the fucking kiss? Naoya, I’m gonna kill you!”

[ynyaan]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡 𖦹 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙣𝘼𝙐!𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You wear "revealing" clothing to a supermarket with Sukuna. Unfortunate to say, two strangers were not at all pleased. "Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain.

tw. you can change what you wear to what you please. In this fic though, it's described to give more context. Sukuna in his own body modern AU. Getting shamed; use of words: whore. Sukuna is violent as usual.

note. got emotionally personal here. I hope you find comfort in this fic as I did when I wrote it. <33

.ᐟ 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝-𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Today was shopping day. You've finally run out of enough comfort foods to force you out of the house. You groan loudly in your room. You were wearing only your undergarments and were already getting tired of the idea of having to find clothes to wear.

a familiar face walks by your room. Sukuna stops and leans on your door, his eyes observing your lazy state. "C'mon brat. Dress pretty. I'll take you out after shopping."

Your head snaps excitedly to Sukuna. It was rare of him to invite you out, especially since you were both so busy all the time. You simply just cherish the swift time at home cuddling and whatnot. Sukuna smirked at your reaction. Satisfied, he left to give you time to choose and change clothes.

After much consideration and throwing closet clothes on the floor, you decided to wear something showy, a cropped tee with its ends tied, a plaid skirt that falls above your knees, paired with a small bag and boots. You choose your accessories, put on a touch of makeup, and then you are good to go. "Kuna~!" You sing.

As you walk out the door, you find Sukuna looking at his phone and then quickly looking at you. You twirl, showcasing your outfit as he smiles. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist. "How awful. My princess dolled up so pretty." He grins, his grip on your waist secure, leaning in for a kiss.

You stop him with your hand. "No. Kuna' we all know what a kiss will lead to," You pout, and Sukuna laughs silently on your skin. "Now, come on, I expect you to take me on to a charming night!"

The supermarket was the same as ever. Customers minding their business, the sound of cashier ringing in the distance, and stocks of your comfort foods.

"Ahh, there you are. I've missed you." You gleam at the snacks in front of you. Snack's destined to be finished within the week. You were left alone for a bit since Sukuna usually parts with you to grab things he needs as well.

By "needs," he grabs excessive amounts of food that would leave you bankrupt if you didn't pick through them every time you passed by him.

"Hey there." Suddenly, someone taps your shoulder. You turn your head to see two guys standing in front of you.

"Hello, do you need help with anything?" you smile politely.

"Ugh, seriously?" The first guy sneers. You tilt your head at him, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you.

"Dude, she's totally leading us on. Did you see that snarky smile?" The other guy says. Your eyebrows bridged together. Just your luck to be left in an aisle with these two idiots, huh?

"Sorry, you're getting the wrong idea-" You get cut off by a hand that warmly placed itself on your shoulder.

"You know em'?" Sukuna's voice was husky and low, gesturing his head towards the two men.

"Not really—“ Before you could finish explaining, The second guy from behind steps in, "Dude, you should really cover your girl up." He comments.

"Yeah, like, the way she looked at us earlier? damn, I almost mistook her for a whore." The other one added. Your heart sank at the disgusting comments made by them. You placed both your hands on your skirt, your basket resting on your arm. You actually felt confident to wear something like this because you knew Sukuna would be with you, you knew Sukuna would approve of it, and you knew YOU would feel good as well.

"Ha." your thoughts get cut off by Sukuna's voice. If looks could kill, indeed. You knew this situation would escalate, and really, all you want is a smooth, relaxing evening with your lover.

You raise your hand high enough for them to notice, "I'm sorry, you really got the wrong idea—“ Suddenly, the first guy tries to grab you by extending his hand swiftly, but before his fingers could reach you, Sukuna stops him by the wrist.

The next thing you hear is the painful cry and a loud snap. Sukuna broke his wrist all while his other hand was still secured onto your shoulder.

"Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain. The second guy wasted no time and launched at Sukuna, only for him to be dodged and punched right in the nose.

People started clamoring around, and you could already hear security calling backup.

"Sukuna, let's go." You urge him but not waiting for a response. You grab his hand, and you drop your basket. You run.

You were both parked at a nearby park, immediately driving away after leaving the supermarket. "You really didn't have to do all that ryo'." You softly say, inspecting the hand that he used to punch the guy.

"Besides, it's my fault. I should've dressed more modestly." You muttered under your breath. But He heard it.

"Don't ever fucking say that again." He grits his teeth. You look up at him, surprised by the sudden anger in his tone. His expression was tense, worried? maybe even a gloss of tears, if you will.

He moves his hand to push strands of hair behind your ear. It was soft, so painfully gentle. "People like that don't deserve to live. They don't deserve to have eyes nor mouths." He rambles, cupping your cheeks and kissing everywhere.

"If they were decent people, they wouldn't even think of looking at you like that, darling. They are delirious, annoying, little shits, who have nothing to do but try and push people down." He holds your hand firmly, his gaze unflinching.

"you will not be knocked down, my love. They do not deserve the space in your mind to bring you down." He lowers his head and kisses the back of your hand.

You exhale. You exhale and smile.

"I love you," he says. He looks so unbelievably beautiful.

You squeeze his hand gently before replying, "Thank you, kuna’. I love you too."

He smirks, a playful grin places itself on his lips. "That's my girl."

"I supposed we'll be banned there, won't we?" You ask, remembering the reason why you were in the supermarket anyway.

He scoffs, "Whatever, i'll ask someone else to do it for us." Sukuna grumbles, kissing the tip of your nose.

He leans back and starts up the car again, "Right now, you deserve a date."

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[fleuraimer]

neeeed more boxer!Carmy!!! can we please have boyfriend hcs for him 💖💖💖

AHHHH we lovvvvveeeee boxer!carmy sm that i’m making it a series, i’d be happy to supply 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

tw!! our carmy went thru it as a kid. some suggestive content.

bf boxer!carmy hcs coming right up!!

concept 1. concept 2.

bf boxer!carmy, me thinks, likes the calm of being around his pretty broad.

he’s a fighter (has been since the name calling turned into swirlies and books knocked out of hands and bodies shoved into lockers and heads smashed through glass and—

oh well)

so he’s used to calamity (devours it, to satiate that inherent ache in his belly, descended from generations upon generations of misplaced, misguided hurt), harnesses its power, the adrenaline, in every fight, focuses it. it’s why he’s so damn good at what he does.

but even he, carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the beast, the bear, needs his moments of solitude.

which is wear she comes in, polished and pretty in pink, just as always. her soft hand slips into his calloused palm like a puzzle piece, her silken lips settle into his own chapped ones like a key in a lock, and her body…

carmy’s never been good with words, but trying to describe the beauty of his girlfriend never fails to leave him speechless.

her supple figure, her delicate being, it fits to him, both literally and figuratively, unassumingly and forcibly, in ways he could never even begin to describe, can hardly begin to fathom. all he knows is that she makes everything… quiet. calm (when she wants to. sometimes, she’s gives him a bigger headache than any concussion ever could).

bf boxer!carmy fs pays for everything. like, hands down, every purchase his girl makes, from the day they start the talking stage to the dreadful day he fucks up their whole relationship and she leaves him (like he’d ever let her go), is paid for by him.

he will genuinely get upset if she even walks around with her wallet in her purse, let alone buys something with her own money; made her delete all her cards—debit and credit—from her phone and put all of his there instead.

he's not trying to buy her love (though maybe her forgiveness, nothing says ‘i'm sorry’ like a new pair of jimmy choo's and a westwood purse), fuck no—nor is he trying to place authority over her, stake some fucked up claim that twistedly means he now owns her—he only wants to spoil her, keep her safe and secure, offer her comfortability.

it used to be an issue, she couldn’t get it through that pretty, thick fucking skull of hers that the money she made was not to be touched, not unless it’s an emergency (like a literal emergency, cannot stress that enough).

once, still in the fairly early stages of their relationship, he took her out to a quaint little cafe down the road from his press conference for his upcoming fight, and she tried to pay for their coffee. he, sadly, broke one of her acrylics in the process of slamming the hand with her card against the chasier counter and snatching said card away (tears were surely shed, but after profuse apologies and a few—appeasing on his end, begrudging on her end—kisses, she was softly, sweetly reprimanded for being dumb enough to think she was ever paying for anything with him around). needless to say, she doesn’t pay for anything, and never even thinks to anymore unless she’s trying to get on his nerves.

speaking of acrylics, bf boxer!carmy definitely makes her match ‘em to the tip. he reads as a head scratch, back scratch kinda guy, too, so honestly the longer and pointier the better. he also lovessss her signature baby pink toes (can’t take his eyes off ‘em when he’s got her on her back with her feet pressed to his pecs, soft strokes, teasing, ‘til those baby pink toes curl ‘cause he hit that spot. then, he’s pounding—).

bf boxer!carmy likes coming home to food. doesn’t really care if it’s take out or home cooked, always appreciates the love his girl puts into her cooking though. but if there’s not enough for two (at least for six, he always has three helpings, if not more) this man will throw a FIT. what’s his baby gonna eat? and she best not get smart and say some dumb shit like ‘girl dinner’ bc he will shut her tf up (don’t threaten us w a good time bear 🤭).

any time she neglects to make or order food for herself, he leaves her standing at the kitchen island to go get her favorite from either the three michelin star restaurant down on 39th street or the bodega on the corner of their block.

sometimes, she does it on purpose:

“where’s yours, cub?” carmy huffs, duffle slipping onto his polished wood floors with a dull thud. his hair is matted with sweat and he stinks, he knows—can’t fucking wait to get in the shower—but he’s got a more pressing matter at hand right now.

his girl, scrubbing the dirty dishes in a ballet pink baby doll and silk bonnet to match, raises a perfectly plucked brow, and lifts her eyes to address him with a soft, conniving cadence.

“where’s m’wha’, bear?”

and god it’s so difficult to call her out when she’s looking at him like… like that.

he could knock her tf out right now (more like choke her tf out but).

he rolls his eyes, doesn’t miss her pleased smile as he turns on his heel, keys and wallet in hand, and walks right back out the front door.

bf boxer!carmy who can’t sleep without his girl in their bed, cradled in his arms, bundled between their satin sheets, fuzzy blankets, and a hefty comforter. keeps the AC on high all night long so he has an excuse to keep her close. he usually sticks to big spoon, though he’s certainly not opposed to being held (makes back and head scratches that much easier), he’d never pass up on the chance to stuff his face in his pretty broad’s pretty chest.

he drools and snores when he’s had a rough day or falls into the deepest sleep, and he always gets this cute scrunch to his face when he’s dreaming about something sad (sad, is her decided word, because that’s all she can feel when she kisses the furrow between his brows away).

when she can’t make it to one of his fights (which is few and far between) he spends as much of the night as he can on the phone with her just to stall the inevitable tossing and turning that’s waiting for him when the line goes dead (it’s the familiarity that gets to him, haunts him. it’s so easy to remember what it’s like, those restless nights, the constant noise).

and lastly (for now) bf boxer!carmy is suchhhh a control freak. as much as he loves his pretty broad, she irks him to NO END with the way she does the exact fucking opposite of what he so sweetly asks of her, too often to be good for his general mental health and wellbeing. he may push her buttons, but 8 out of 10 times it’s never fucking deliberate. she, the little fucking magenta devil, does that shit like it’s her only source of entertainment.

though, he can hardly complain. she may never learn her lesson, but at least she knows how to take a punishment like a good girl—

—

a/n: KEEP THE REQUESTS COMING PLS WRITING THJS EAS LOKE HEROINE INMY VEINSXHSHAHDGWJA

im fine. 😁.

not proofread!!

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Forgiveness is requested but not expected. Downhill we go!!

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 3:

Over time, you grew less and less worried with Leon’s nice behavior. Your math grade has gone up significantly, surpassing a low C which is a passing grade, but since the tutor sessions have become much more bearable, you haven’t felt the need to stop going. Besides, you have an A streak to fulfill.

Your friends stayed suspicious about the frat boy’s intentions, however. The way you’d become so unbothered with everything relating to him had them stressed, yet at the end of the day, “no asshole can hold up a facade like that for this long”, as per Sky’s words.

Easygoing is the best way to describe Leon at this point. A gentle soul, from what you can tell. He goes out of his way to hold the door for you, share his food with you whenever he brings it, and he even gets excited with you whenever you get an A on any of your assignments or tests. It makes you happy that you held out for him.

“And that makes sense to you?” Leon was standing next to you, leaned over with both his hands on the table. You were both in the study room, only this time you had finished everything math related. Thanksgiving break had come and gone so everything had shifted towards the finals before Winter break, meaning now you were using the space to go over the study guide for the final given by one of your other professors, though it would’ve been nice to have your math study guide to burn into your brain since it’s your biggest struggle.

“Yeah, this is easy for me,” you mutter, hand against your mouth as your eyes move back and forth across the packet of information in front of you. Having Leon leaning over you had been commonplace since mid-November. He turned out to be very nosey. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own classes?”

You didn’t need to look at him to know he was extremely confused by your study guide. “Uhh.. nah,” he stood upright and slowly made his way around the table, sitting down in front of you with a small groan as he relaxed into the seat. “I’ve made it through the past couple years here without ‘em. No need for ‘em now.” You nodded to the side at his, bringing the pen you were holding up to your mouth to nibble on the end of it. “Makes sense…”

It took awhile before you noticed his nervous fidgeting, looking up from your study guide to give him a worried look. “Are you bored? I can finish up in my dorm if you-”

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” He cut you off, his eyes meeting yours before the room fell silent. The question was so sudden and you weren’t expecting anything like it, so it just had you confused. You must’ve looked it, too, since he moved his eyes away from yours while crossing his arms. “I mean-.. Y’know, figured I’d ask..”

Seeing him get nervous was always pretty cute to you, such a handsome guy getting worked up over you never failed to flatter you. “Oh, yeah! I’d like that, actually..” You giggled when Leon looked back at you, soon grabbing your few supplies to put back into your backpack. 

Relief spread across his face, moving to stand as you collected your items. “Good, okay, uh.. How’s Olive Garden sound?” To the average college student, Olive Garden was some high class fine dining. Anyone would be a fool to say no to an offer like that.

Just like your friend told you not to do, the absolute biggest no-no when it came to these types of college guys, you let Leon get even closer. It was just dinner in the beginning, but you started seeing him outside of study sessions afterwards with him going out of his way to seek you out and hang out with you and you the same. “Just going out to dinner” turned into dates real fast, faster than you even had time to process. 

You’ve almost completely forgotten about just how nasty he was towards you not three months prior with how he doted on you. Leading up to finals week, Leon made sure to bring you food after noticing your long study habits. He wouldn’t even give you a choice, just a simple “whaddya feeling tonight?” over text. He’d hang out in your dorm with you while you ate, much to your roommates dismay, and sometimes he’d just show up for no reason other than to see you. You’d blush and shy away from his flirting, he’d tease you, and you’d get mad at him for distracting you in a playful way. Even if you wanted to be actually mad at him, you couldn’t, not with that cheeky little grin he’d give you.

You never questioned his nosiness as he familiarized himself with your dorm, rummaging through your drawers as you whined at him from the bed to stay out of your stuff. Honestly, you’d probably look through his stuff too if you had the chance.

Having a boyfriend during your first year of college wasn’t exactly a goal, and you don’t know if this is even a relationship or not, but you weren’t complaining. It was so nice having someone care about you like this, especially when it’s someone who’s, to you, way out of your league in almost every sense. Though he wasn’t the most outgoing, he was very well known, and being seen with him meant the attention he received was spilling onto you. Hell, you didn’t even know he played football until he passed by you with his friends, all in their football get-ups. He never bragged about any practices or games to you, maybe you should’ve asked about the various bruises and scuffs he’d show up to the study sessions with. Oh well.

Every night during finals week, Leon would take you out for dinner under the guise of “destressing from the long day”, not that you minded, of course. You were growing increasingly anxious about your last final, the big one; math. The two of you were sitting in his black Jeep Wrangler as it idled out in the parking lot of McDonald’s, snacking on what was left of your meal in a comfortable silence. The combination of the heater blowing on you and the food in your stomach was settling you, if only a little.

Leon kept his eyes on you the entire time, hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh. His hand was so warm. “You’ll pass, I know you will.” His soft touch barely had you cracking a smile, looking through the windshield as large snowflakes quietly fell, lit up by the streetlights surrounding the parking lot and by the headlights on his car. The snow had accumulated an inch on the ground already, the sun having set nearly two hours prior. Winter and its short days, a blessing and a curse. “I don’t know..” You could feel his eyes on you, yet yours were stuck staring out at the falling snow. “My nerves always get me. I’m gonna make the stupidest mistakes and then once the final grades are in my parents’ll wanna see and then I’ll be surrounded be disappointment and shame and guilt.”

You closed your eyes and slumped your shoulders when you felt Leon squeeze your thigh, finally able to turn and look back at him. “You know that’s not how it’s gonna go.” He let out a breathy laugh when you raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, you’ve got it down! Plus, you had an amazing tutor~..”

With a dramatic groan, you rolled your eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, unable to hide your smile. “I guess, but you weren’t that amazing..”

Leon moved his free hand and brought it up to his chest, holding it there with a strong pout to feign hurt. “You wound me.. Was I nothing to you?” His smile quickly returned when you clicked your tongue at him, chuckling through his nose. “Seriously though, I’ve never met anyone as smart as you are. You learned how to do that kind of stuff incredibly fast, so I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you won’t demolish that final.” His compliments always left you blushing and at a loss for words, playfulness giving way to a more heavy air. “Thank you, Leon. Really, thank you...” 

You were too wrapped up in watching the snow fall through the windshield to notice when his hand pulled away from your thigh, or just how guilty he looked as he silently watched you.

The math final was easier than you were expecting. You understood basically everything that had been put on it minus a couple things that you scolded yourself for not brushing up on last minute. Grades weren’t put in until a week or more after the finals were turned in, yet you were confident enough in how it went to feel good leaving that room afterwards. 

This first semester had really tested your limits, but you were lucky to have your friends, lucky to have Leon. It didn’t feel strange having him around anymore, it felt natural, real. There weren’t enough ways to thank him for all that he did between tutoring you and taking care of you overall. 

You yelped with laughter as Sky picked you up, their arms around your midriff, waving you side to side as they yelled how proud they were of you. Ella only stood by and laughed along, making sure to take a picture of the moment as keepsakes. “Guys, I don’t even know if I passed yet!” You pushed away from Sky and they placed you back down on the ground, smoothing out your shirt which had you swatting their hands away.

“But! You survived and that’s always cause for celebration.” Ella pocketed her phone and took a couple steps forward so you were all standing in a small circle now. “You really pulled through these last few months.”

Thanks to Leon. “I did, huh?” You looked down with a bashful smile, shrugging before pulling the strap on your backpack further up so it wouldn’t slip off your shoulder. “You know,” Sky started, resting their elbow on your other shoulder while pursing their lips as they slowly turned their head to look at you, “you’re not very good at hiding your love for Leon..” 

You weren’t trying to hide it, it's just that even the vaguest thought about the man had you flustered and stumbling over your words like a fool. All you could do now was glare at your friend, who just raised their hands up in defense. “Hey now, not poking fun, just making an observation.”

Ella placed her entire hand over Sky’s face and pushed them away from you, ignoring their muffled complaints as she looked at you. “We’ll always be suspicious because we’re your friends and we care about you, but as long as you’re careful, we’ll keep our distance.”

Sky pulled Ella’s hand off their face, making gross-out noises while wiping their face off. “Blegh, anyways, yeah. Keeping our distance, but still watching from afar.” They pointed their index and middle finger from their eyes to yours before smiling.

You hung around in their dorm as Ella finished packing up her suitcase. She’s had her plane ticket back home booked for a month, constantly expressing her need to leave as soon as finals were finished during that time. Sky was leaving the same day you were, which was in two days since you both drove or were driven here. Leon stayed at his frat house all school year, so you were thankful to have two people sticking around so you weren’t left all alone.

Unfortunately, this meant you had your own packing to do. Thankfully though, your roommate had already left, sparing you from their menial chit-chat. Packing was almost cathartic in a weird way, almost as if you saw going home as a reward for working yourself to the bone at this university. Quiet music was playing from your phone as you gathered the essentials, you’d be coming back in three weeks so there wasn’t any need to pack up everything.

A gentle knock knock knock at your dorm’s door startled you from your thoughts, causing you to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t just coming from the song that was playing. Slowly, you made your way over to the door, and before you’d even opened it fully, Leon slipped his way through, side stepping into the room with a cheeky smile. 

You scoffed as you watched him weasel his way in, hand stuttering away from the door handle to allow the heavy door to shut. “You could’ve waited until I opened the door all the way.” 

“I knocked, though.” Mischief was evident in his tone as his eyes landed on the suitcase sitting on your bed. “Getting ready to leave?”

“Not for another couple days. Just.. wanna be ready.” You walked past him over to your suitcase, continuing to fold the last few pieces of clothing you wanted to bring back home. “Perfect, got some extra time to spend with you then.” Leon chuckled, now standing next to you to watch you get back into rhythm.

Having him admit that so casually had you nervous, cheeks heating up as you glanced over at him. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with your friends?” The eyebrow raise he gave you made you stumble as you tried to elaborate. “N-not that I don’t want to hang out with you! I just feel like you’d have more fun celebrating the end of the semester outside of a stuffy dorm.” You tried to laugh away the embarrassment, moving your focus back to the suitcase as you zipped it up.

“I can celebrate with those slobs any time, but for right now, I would really like to be around you.” Leon carefully lifted your suitcase off the bed, placing it near the door for you. “You’re nice and quiet. They’re not.” You sighed after lifting yourself up onto your bed, sitting criss-cross right in the middle while meekly smiling to yourself, watching him walk back over to stand in front of you.

“By the way,” he said, turning his head to look out your window for a split second before looking back down at you, “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how proud I am of you for coming out of that math final. I know results take awhile, but you seem pretty pleased with yourself.” He crossed his arms and bent forward a bit with a teasing smirk as he not-so-subtly looked you up and down.

You covered your face with your hands and laughed into them, a poor attempt to hide your ever increasing blush. After letting your hands fall away, you bunched the end of your hoodie up in them, fiddling with the thick fabric as you replied. “Yeah, uh.. I think I did alright.” You were going to say more, but you stopped when Leon’s hand found its way under your chin, tilting your head back so you were looking at him. “C’mon, don’t downplay this, baby. You did amazing and you know it.”

Your mind went blank at the pet name and you were finding it hard to breathe with the way his hand felt under your chin. The air in your dorm was a tad tense before, yet now it just felt heavy. Stifling. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as you tried to think of something, anything to say.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He said with a breathy laugh, gently tilting your head side to side as he studied you. And you let him. Your mouth felt dry, face hot as he leaned in closer. “You’re so beautiful..” His voice dropped an octave and his eyes were lidded as they stared into yours. “So smart, so brave..” Soon his lips were brushing against yours, whispering out a final “So perfect..” before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

It didn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to mimic Leon’s movements. His hands cautiously slid down to grasp at your waist while yours moved up to cup his face, pulling him closer. He slowly crawled onto the bed with you tugging him along, leaving you laying down as he hovered over the top of you, knees planted on either side of your legs while one of his arms moved up to support himself. 

He was doing his best to be careful with you, noting your nervous tremble as his right hand slid under your hoodie. “M’gonna take care of you, ‘kay?” He hummed against your sensitive skin, kissing along the underside of your jawline. You only nodded as his lips trailed down your neck, stopping when your hoodie got in his way of the rest of you. “Need you to say ‘okay’ f’me, baby.”

Nearly whining when he stopped, you nodded again a bit more vigorously this time, voice barely a whisper. “O-..Okay..” You propped yourself up slightly when Leon pulled his head away from your neck, his eyes meeting yours as both his hands were now playing with the end of your hoodie. “Y-Yeah, okay…” You repeated.

First it was your hoodie, then it was his jacket, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms, chest pressed against yours as he reached around to unclasp the hooks on your bra. You immediately brought your arms up to cover your breasts once Leon leaned back after pulling your bra off, self-consciousness suddenly settling in. “Hey hey, no need to hide from me..” He cooed, eyes raking down your body as he grabbed your hands to pull your arms away, thumbs rubbing circles onto the tops of your hands as he stared with a crooked smile. 

You took the opportunity to take in his form; muscular, a couple old scars and freckles standing out to you. He was gorgeous, through and through, no doubt about it. He took notice, craning his neck to look down at his exposed chest before looking back up at you. “Looks good, huh?” That got a small giggle out of you, at least.

He slowly guided you back down onto the bed, his hands firmly rubbing up and down your sides. “You look even better, though. Layin’ pretty beneath me~..” His right hand found its way to your panties, running his fingers along the band before trailing further down to press his middle finger against the gusset. You gasped at the feeling while he laughed quietly, leaning back a bit further to catch a glimpse of the wet spot he was feeling. “You’re soaked.. Lil’ bit of touching got you all worked up?”

Your hands flew up to hide your face again as he rubbed his finger up and down your clothed pussy, letting out small gasps and whimpers all the while. You shakily nodded, subconsciously spreading your legs further apart as he slotted himself between them. 

“Tell me something, babe.” Leon paused his movements to look up at you, huffing a chuckle through his nose when he noticed you’d covered your face. “You seem real nervous, so I’m jus’ wonderin’...” Dread settled in your stomach at his implication, you were hoping he wouldn’t ask this. “Yes..” You whispered, parting your fingers over your right eye so you could look at him. “Don’t make me say it, please…”

He hummed low in his chest, eyes darkening as they moved back down to your panties. “Juuust wonderin', is all..” His finger started to caress you over your panties again while adding a bit more pressure. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Only means I gotta make this extra special for you~.” You moved your hands to shoot him a weak glare and he smiled in return. “Didn’t say I couldn’t say it.”

Once he felt your tremble start to dissipate, he brought his hands up and hooked his fingers on the band of your panties before slowly tugging them off, letting out a low groan as a string of slick stayed connected to the gusset from your leaking pussy. “Fuck, that’s hot..” He breathed in sharply through his teeth, taking your panties into one hand before grabbing his hoodie, stuffing them into the large pocket in the front.

Leon didn’t waste any time putting himself back between your legs, languidly dragging his middle finger up and down through your folds. He relished in your every noise, even as you tried to hold them in. “You ever finger yourself before?” He asked, voice gravelly as he repeatedly pulled his finger back to watch your slick cling to it by a string. 

“... no..” Your innocence had him groaning to himself again. He could ignore the guilt eating away at him long enough to handle you the way you needed to be handled. “Let’s give it a try then, yeah?” He hunched over some more so his face was hovering above yours, middle finger now gently circling your clenching hole.

“P-Please be careful..” You whimpered, slightly panicked at the feeling of his finger nudging your entrance, one of your hands grasping the bed sheets while the other held onto his bicep that was closest to you.  “I’ll be so careful, baby.. I promise I’ll be careful.”

And he was. What would’ve normally been a relatively quick process turned into ten minutes of Leon tenderly stretching you on his fingers. He studied your face the entire time, whispering sweet words into your ear, even letting out deep moans to encourage your own timid ones. You needed the time. There's no rush.

He moved down to pair his fingers with his mouth, tongue running through your wet folds as his fingers stroked your walls. The noises you let out when he sucked on your clit were intoxicating. You were intoxicating.

Once Leon pulled his mouth and fingers away from you, you knew what was coming. And when he paused for a moment after standing up, hands hooked in his boxers, eyebrows tightly furrowed together in thought, that only served to make you more nervous.

“..Leon?” You managed to say, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched his shake himself out of his head. “Yeah, sorry, just… thinking about the best way to go about this. Don’t wanna scare you.”

“You-... I’m not gonna be scared..” You looked from his face down to his boxers, eyeballing where his fingers were still hooked in them. He just clicked his tongue, nodding his head to the side with a soft “if you say so”. 

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared. There wasn’t much frame of reference, but Leon was… sizeable, for lack of a better term. And it wasn’t just his size that was intimidating to you, it was the idea of sex itself. Sex has always been made out to be this big grandiose milestone by everyone around you, so now that you’re about to actually do it is giving you the same sinking feeling that public speaking does. 

“You’re scared.” Leon had pulled his boxers all the way down without you noticing, letting them lay abandoned on the floor as he took the small step back towards you. “No.” You were quick to object, eyes still glued to his dick. He chuckled and tilted your head back by your chin once more. “Yes, you are, and it’s okay. I’m not gonna kill you with it.”

“You might…” You muttered under your breath, eyes lowly making their way back down to his dick as he got back up onto the bed and in between your legs. “I promised you I’d be careful, right?” Leon grunted, his hand squeezing the base of his cock before giving it a few slow strokes. 

You swallowed dryly, pulling your eyes away and back up to meet his. “Yeah…” He nodded, giving you a wobbly smile as he teased his thumb across his tip. “Right. So don’t worry, I’ve gotcha..”

You only nodded, doing your best to keep your eyes up and focused on his face as he lubed himself with your juices. Your eyes widened once you felt him line himself up with your hole, body jerking a bit at the slight pressure.

“You gotta relax, sweetheart..” He used his freehand to stroke your thigh before pulling your right up over his shoulder, hand moving back down so his thumb could rub your clit. “Just breathe and focus on what my hand’s doin’, alright?”

The two of you were lucky that a lot the people in your dorm building left already, cause when his tip finally pushed past that ring of muscle, you let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. It hurt, but it was also such a new feeling that it simply startled you. “Okay, okay, that’s the hardest part. You did it.” You panted, hands tugging at the blankets beneath you as he stilled. “Okay…” You copied him, nodding your head once you felt you were ready for him to move.

The sting of the stretch was the hardest to get by, however it was easily masked by just how full you felt after Leon was fully sheathed inside you. So new, yet so good. 

You let out a shaky sigh, eyes closing as you rested back against the bed. Your heart was beating and your body felt hot. It was actually a nice feeling. “You- ugh.. You can move.. a little..” You breathed out, grunting softly when you felt him twitch.

“Mhm..” Leon agreed with only a hum, not trusting his mouth enough to speak. He pulled back an inch before thrusting just as slowly,  eyes darting around your face for any sign of discomfort. A minute or so of taking it slow led to deeper thrusts, following your command as you asked for “harder”, “deeper”, “faster”. All with that sweet voice that he couldn’t say no to.

You were eating away at him and you didn’t even know it; wrapped around him so perfectly, that delicious honey of yours dripping down his balls, moaning his name, looking at him with those glassy eyes, fuck. He fits you so well.

He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at you any longer. Ignoring the guilt was harder than he thought, even with him thrusting into you like he owned you. You weren’t his, he can't have you the way you want him to-

“Shit-!” He gasped, too lost in his own thoughts to notice you’d grown close until you abruptly clenched around him, sloppy cunt milking his cock. His thrusts stuttered to a stop as he buried himself deep into you, cumming with a whine of his own. Looking at the wall with bleary eyes, he furrowed his brow again, chewing on the inside of his cheek while he caught his breath.

Clarity crashed into him when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a weak hug. He needed to go, but how could he leave you like this? God, he was so fucked.

He should’ve just stayed an asshole, that would’ve kept you far away. And he should’ve never taken that stupid bet. All this for a pair of panties to wave around like a trophy.

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik

(few of your blogs won't work, but i really tried 😩)

[writingrock]

the tale of two lovers [2]

pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.

notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou, mentions of injuries, expletives

word count: 8.9k

part list

part one: chapter list

a/n: part two is here! Feeding time !! I love it when they hate each other >:)

Bakugou was annoying. That was the one word you’d use to describe him— though it hardly seemed enough to capture the sheer exasperation he stirred in you. The journey to Niniel’s Veil should have been the easy part, a straightforward trek across familiar terrain before delving into the real danger that awaited in the Veil’s depths. The path was well-charted, the landscape mostly predictable, and you had the map etched into your memory. By all accounts, this leg of the journey should have been smooth sailing, the calm before the storm. But Bakugou knew exactly how to rile you up, turning even the simplest task into a battle of wills.

“We're moving too slow!” Bakugou’s voice, sharp and demanding, cut through the quiet morning air. “If we keep dragging our feet, we’ll take weeks to get to Niniel’s Veil.”

“The risk is going through ogre territory,” you replied, trying to keep your voice even. “We do not want to use our resources on a big fight like that.”

“Karshoj Arnahk.” Bakugou spat the words, frustration etched in every syllable. You knew enough Draconic to recognize it as an expletive, something along the lines of “for fuck sake.” He was losing patience. He didn’t have time to argue with some prissy mapmaker. “We can take them and get to Niniel’s Veil quicker.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, the map in your hand crinkling slightly. “Or we could avoid them entirely and save ourselves the trouble. Not every fight needs to be fought, especially when there’s a safer way around!”

It didn’t help that he was constantly questioning your decisions, his deep voice laced with scepticism every time you suggested a route that didn’t involve charging headlong into danger. You could see the distaste in his eyes when you advocated for the safer, slower path, as if he considered it a personal affront to his abilities. It was infuriating. Here you were, with years of experience under your belt, and this hot-headed barbarian had the audacity to second-guess you at every turn.

The two of you stood at a crossroads— literally and figuratively— each staring the other down with a mixture of stubbornness and conviction that crackled in the air like a brewing storm. Your gazes locked, neither willing to concede an inch, the tension between you palpable. The rest of the group lingered a few paces back, caught between amusement at the spectacle and concern over what it might mean for the journey ahead. You could sense their unease, their nervous glances exchanged behind your backs, but no one dared to intervene. They knew better than to step into the middle of a clash between two such strong-willed personalities, especially when both of you seemed determined to win this battle of wills.

Kirishima shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’ve been at it all morning. Think we should step in?”

Denki shrugged, a small grin playing on his lips. “Eh, let ’em go at it. It’s kinda entertaining, don’t you think? I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Bakugou like that.”

“Yeah, but we’re not making any progress like this,” Sero added, glancing between you and Bakugou. “If they keep arguing, we’ll be stuck here all day.”

Kirishima frowned, his gaze flicking to Bakugou. “He’s just worried about time. You know how he is— always pushing forward, no matter what.”

“True, but our guide’s got a point,” Denki chimed in. “I’d rather not get into a brawl with ogres if we can avoid it. Those guys don’t mess around.”

Mina nodded, her eyes on you as you squared off with Bakugou. “I think they’ll figure it out. They’re both stubborn, but they’re not stupid. Hopefully.”

Bakugou’s voice broke through the murmur of the group, his frustration boiling over. “If you’re so scared of a fight, maybe you shouldn’t be leading us in the first place!”

You bristled at the insult, taking a step closer, your eyes narrowing. “Scared? I’m being practical! It’s called strategy, you dimwit. You don’t just charge in blindly and hope for the best.”

It's not that you were averse to fights— far from it. You understood the value of brute force, and there were times when a show of strength was exactly what the situation called for. But in your mind, there was always a safer, more calculated path to take. One that didn’t involve charging headfirst into danger or risking unnecessary harm. Brute force might solve problems quickly, but a well-thought-out strategy could avoid them altogether, or at the very least, mitigate the risks. 

For all his bluster, Bakugou wasn’t reckless— at least, not in the way you’d initially thought. He was driven, yes, and often too eager to prove himself, but there was a method to his madness. He wasn’t just charging into battle for the thrill of it; he was doing it because he believed it was the fastest, most efficient way to get the job done. And in his own twisted way, he was looking out for the group, even if his methods were more brute force than finesse.

Still, that didn’t make him any less annoying.

“Strategy?” He scoffed, crossing his arms in a mirror of your own stance. “Your ‘strategy’ is to waste time and avoid every challenge we come across. Our progress is at snail pace.”

“This is about being smart,” you snapped back. “It’s about surviving long enough to get to Niniel’s Veil in one piece. Or do you plan on dragging a half-dead group through the forest because you couldn’t wait a few hours to go around?”

“But I guess that’s asking too much from someone who thinks brute force solves everything.”

Bakugou’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—something like shock, buried deep beneath his stubbornness. He wasn’t used to being questioned like this, especially not by someone he barely knew. But you weren’t backing down, and that seemed to catch him off guard.

“You think you know everything because you’ve got a map and a compass,” Bakugou growled, stepping closer. “But out here, it’s not just about what you know. It’s about what you can do. And what I can do is get us to that Veil faster than your slow, ‘safe’ route.”

You met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “And what I can do is make sure we get there without losing anyone along the way. If you’d stop being so damn reckless for five minutes, you might see that.”

The tension between you crackled like a live wire, each of you daring the other to back down. Yet neither of you flinched, standing your ground with unwavering resolve. It was a standoff, a stubborn battle of wills where neither of you was willing to give an inch. Neither of you would ever move.

Finally, Bakugou huffed, breaking the silence. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice low but still laced with irritation. “We’ll do it your way. But if we get ambushed because of this detour, it’s on you.”

You let out a slow breath, relief mixing with the lingering frustration. “Deal. But if we avoid a fight, you owe me an apology.”

Bakugou snorted, turning on his heel as he started down the path you had pointed out. “Tch. Don’t hold your breath.”

"Bastard," you muttered under your breath as you walked with the group. You made sure the insult was just loud enough for him to hear. As you passed by Bakugou, you deliberately bumped his shoulder, a subtle but unmistakable show of defiance.

As you walked past Bakugou, muttering the insult under your breath, he stiffened, his jaw tightening. The faintest twitch in his shoulder betrayed his irritation, and he shot you a sharp, sidelong glare. Despite his attempt to maintain his composure, the anger simmering just beneath the surface was unmistakable, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought to keep his temper in check.

Denki and Sero exchanged glances, both grinning now as they walked behind you. “I think they’re gonna get along just fine,” Sero whispered.

“Or kill each other trying,” Denki added with a laugh.

Bakugou marched forward with determined strides, his shoulder colliding with yours in a harsh, deliberate bump. The force of it nearly threw you off balance, but you quickly steadied yourself, glaring at his back as he put himself slightly ahead of you. He didn't even glance back, his focus fixed on the path ahead as if daring you to react. You rolled your eyes, the irritation bubbling up as you let out a scoff, but you held your tongue. It wasn’t worth it— at least, not right now. 

Still, the tension between you crackled in the air, a silent reminder of how easily the two of you clashed. 

But as you watched Bakugou’s back, still bristling with barely-contained energy, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you butted heads. And while it was exhausting, a part of you couldn’t help but admire the fire in him. Even if the fire gave you the urge to strangle him. 

But for now, as the group continued on the safer path, you found a small measure of satisfaction in knowing that you’d held your ground. And if Bakugou had to learn that not every fight could be won with brute force, well… you’d be more than happy to teach him. And rub it in his face. But as far as you were concerned, you doubted that he’d let you teach him anything. In the end, the group did not get ambushed. And Bakugou never apologised. 

You were insufferable. Bakugou couldn't stand you. Every word that came out of your mouth seemed designed to get under his skin, and it worked—too well. You challenged him at every turn, never backing down, never letting him have the last word. It was infuriating.

He could feel his blood pressure spike every time you smirked at him, that infuriatingly calm look on your face as if you knew exactly how to push his buttons. It wasn’t just your words, though they were bad enough. It was the way you matched him, blow for blow, never letting him dominate the conversation or the situation. You were always there, a thorn in his side, ready to counter his every move with some clever quip or an infuriatingly smug retort.

Bakugou often enjoyed insulting people in Draconic, relishing the way it let him vent his frustrations without anyone understanding a word he said. There was something undeniably satisfying about watching someone’s clueless expression as he spat venomous words right to their face, knowing they couldn’t decipher the meaning behind the growls and hisses of his native tongue.

But then there was you. Of all the people to cross his path, you just had to know Draconic. It grated on him that every time he let a curse slip, you not only understood but fired back with equal venom. It was as if you revelled in the challenge, matching him insult for insult, and sometimes even besting him at his own game. It drove him up the wall, especially when you threw insults at him in a language he couldn’t comprehend.

"Maurg wux gashtik," he hissed at you as the two of you walked side by side, leading the group down the winding road. His eyes gleamed with irritation, the insult dripping with venom. He was trying to get creative with his insults now, pushing to see if he could get under your skin. The group sighed at his insult, a familiar one they had heard more than a few times before. It was his go-to jab whenever his patience ran thin.

 

Without missing a beat, you shot back, “Syyulq iw haf'ry zmy aldh kyiwz voraflv, la zmilcw.” Your words were smooth and confident, dripping with the kind of sarcasm that only comes from knowing you’ve got the upper hand. You smirked as you finished, casting a sidelong glance at him, knowing full well that he had no idea what you’d just said. 

Mina, walking behind you, suddenly burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she tried to keep up with the group. In that moment, she was more than relieved that she could understand both Bakugou’s insult and yours. Silently thanking you for cursing back at him in infernal. Her laughter was contagious, and the others glanced around, curious about what was so funny. Bakugou's scowl deepened.

"What the hell did you just say?" he demanded, turning to you with a glare, clearly not pleased with being left out of the joke. He hated being in the dark, especially when it was at his expense.

You simply shrugged, feigning innocence. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" The teasing lilt in your voice only fueled his irritation.

Mina wiped away a tear, still giggling. "Oh, Bakugou, you don’t want to know," she teased, which only made him growl in frustration.

"I do want to know, dammit!" he snapped, his eyes narrowing. But neither of you gave him the satisfaction of an answer, continuing down the path as if nothing had happened.

Kirishima grinned, joining in on the fun. “Kats, I think you’ve met your match.”

Bakugou growled, his frustration mounting. It wasn’t just that you could keep up with him in Draconic—it was that you had the audacity to use another language entirely, one that left him in the dark. It was infuriating, and he hated how you seemed to enjoy pushing his buttons.

“You’re gonna regret that,” Bakugou muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you, as he tried to think up his next move in this strange verbal chess game the two of you had been playing since the journey began.

But for now, you had the upper hand, and the smirk on your face told him you knew it. The group continued their journey, the road ahead long and winding, but the air was lighter with the banter that lingered. 

It gnawed at him, the fact that he couldn’t just ignore you or dismiss you like everyone else who got on his nerves. You were too sharp, too quick, always two steps ahead, and it drove him mad. It was like you were put on this earth specifically to test his patience, to see just how far he could be pushed before he snapped.

Bakugou might have been annoyed, but a small part of him— buried deep beneath the frustration— couldn’t help but admire how you never let him have the upper hand for long. That, he thought grudgingly, was something he could almost respect. Even if it did grind his gears to no end. The journey to Niniel’s Veil was far from over, and the challenges ahead would test all of you in ways you couldn’t yet imagine. 

Maurg wux gashtik: Go fuck a beast. Syyulq iw haf'ry zmy aldh kyiwz voraflv, la zmilcw: Seeing as you’re the only beast around, no thanks. 

If the annoyance wasn’t enough, Bakugou didn’t trust you either. It was understandable, in a way— trust wasn’t something that came easily, especially not in a group formed under the pressure of necessity rather than choice. But the combination of mutual dislike and a lack of trust was a volatile mix, one that threatened to undermine the cohesion of the group at every turn.

The fire crackled softly in the heart of the forest, sending small sparks up into the darkening sky. The gentle warmth of the flames was a comforting contrast to the cool night air. The group sat in a loose circle around the fire, the orange glow illuminating their faces as they chatted quietly. Kirishima was recounting a funny story from one of their previous adventures, his laughter infectious as the others listened, occasionally adding their own comments or chuckles.

Mina leaned back against her pack, her eyes half-closed as she enjoyed the moment of peace. The night was calm, with only the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant call of a nightbird to break the silence. The woods felt alive, but not in a threatening way—just the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures going about their business under the watchful gaze of the stars.

After a while, the conversation began to taper off, the weight of the day’s travel settling in. One by one, everyone began to prepare for sleep. Kirishima stoked the fire one last time before lying down, while the others rolled into their blankets, their breaths gradually slowing as they drifted off.

You lay still for a few moments, listening to the soft, steady breathing of your companions. The fire had burned down to embers, casting a dim, flickering light over the campsite. The forest around you seemed to hold its breath, the quiet only deepening as the night wore on. 

But your mind was restless, thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a storm. Sleep was slipping further away with each passing minute. After what felt like hours of lying there, you silently rose from your bedroll, careful not to disturb the others. The urge to move, to clear your head, was too strong to ignore.

You stepped away from the camp, the night embracing you with its cool, familiar stillness. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, allowing you to see the path ahead with ease. It was a gift you often kept to yourself. It was your nature, after all, to hold things close, to keep your secrets guarded.

As you walked, the forest seemed to whisper around you, the leaves rustling softly as if in conversation. You breathed in the crisp night air, feeling it clear your mind with each step. The solitude was a welcome relief, a chance to gather your thoughts away from the group.

But before you could get far, a firm hand suddenly gripped your shoulder, halting you in your tracks. You turned to find Bakugou standing behind you, his expression hard and unreadable in the shadows. His eyes, however, were sharp and searching.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice low and edged with suspicion. “Ditching us in the middle of the night?”

You shook your head, surprised by his sudden appearance but not entirely shocked by his suspicion. “I’m not ditching anyone. Just needed some air. A walk helps me think.”

Bakugou didn’t release your shoulder, his gaze narrowing as he studied you. “In the dark? Humans can’t see a damn thing out here without a torch.”

You paused, at his words. Bakugou’s hand tightened slightly on your shoulder as he pieced together the implications. “Humans don’t have darkvision,” he muttered, almost to himself. His mind was clearly turning over the possibilities, trying to figure out what you really were. 

You rolled your eyes, the tension between you and Bakugou palpable in the dim light of the forest. “I’m a half-elf,” you said, your tone edged with impatience. “Half-elves have darkvision. I never claimed to be human.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly masked it with his usual scowl. He studied you with renewed scrutiny, as if trying to reconcile this new piece of information with everything he knew— or thought he knew— about you.

“Well, that explains a few things,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Half-elves, huh? Didn’t see that coming.”

You met his gaze steadily, unflinching. “I didn’t see the need to announce it. Besides, I’d rather not make a big deal out of it. I’m here to help, not to broadcast my heritage.”

The truth was more complicated than you cared to share at the moment, especially with someone as guarded as Bakugou. He wasn’t someone who trusted easily, and you doubted he’d start now.

After a moment of tense silence, Bakugou finally released his grip, though his eyes remained wary. “Whatever. We’re not out here for a midnight stroll. Let’s go back to camp.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking back toward the campfire, clearly expecting you to follow. You hesitated for a moment, then sighed and fell in step behind him.

As you walked, Bakugou’s posture remained stiff, his mind clearly still turning over what he’d just discovered. You had given him an answer, but he wasn’t sure if he trusted it. Then again, would you lie about something like that? The doubt lingered in his eyes, though he didn’t ask any more questions. The silence between you was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. It was clear that, for now at least, the matter wasn’t settled in his mind.

When you both returned to camp, the fire was still glowing faintly, and the others remained asleep, unaware of the brief exchange. Bakugou didn’t say anything as he resumed his spot by the fire, but his eyes followed you as you lay down once more.

As you closed your eyes, you could feel his gaze lingering, the unspoken question hanging in the air. It seemed that trust, for now, would remain elusive between you— but at least you knew where you stood.

The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor as the group prepared for another day of travel. The air was crisp and fresh, a welcome change from the damp chill of the previous night. As everyone readied their gear, you decided to take a backseat in the day's journey, letting Bakugou take the lead. The prospect of another argument with him seemed exhausting, so you followed behind with Kirishima, who had readily offered to walk with you.

Kirishima’s cheerful demeanour was a stark contrast to Bakugou’s usual intensity, and you found the company pleasant. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, your footsteps crunching softly on the forest path.

“So, Kirishima,” you began, trying to steer the conversation toward a topic you’d been curious about. “What’s Bakugou’s story? I mean, I know he’s skilled, but there’s something about him that seems like there’s more.”

Kirishima gave you a thoughtful look, his usually bright eyes narrowing slightly as he considered how to respond. “Bakugou?” he said, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. “He’s got quite the history. He’s a dragonborn prince, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the revelation. “A prince? That’s… not something I expected. I mean, he doesn’t exactly come across as the royal type.”

Kirishima chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that was warm and friendly. “Yeah, he doesn’t exactly fit the typical prince mould. But he’s got a lot of responsibilities back home. Being a prince isn’t just about wearing a crown—it’s about carrying a whole lot of weight.”

You glanced ahead, where Bakugou was striding with his usual determination, his back straight and his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “So, what’s driving him to adventure like this? It seems like a pretty big change from royalty.”

Kirishima hesitated for a moment, his expression becoming more guarded. “Well, that’s not really my place to say. Bakugou’s got his reasons, and he doesn’t share them easily. Let’s just say he’s on a quest that’s important to him—something personal.”

You nodded, sensing that Kirishima was being intentionally vague. “Fair enough. It’s clear he values his privacy. But it’s good to know he has friends like you backing him up.”

Kirishima’s smile returned, a look of genuine warmth in his eyes. “Yeah, we go way back. I’m his chosen advisor, and it’s my job to support him, no matter what. We’ve been through a lot together, and I trust him more than anyone.”

You smiled, appreciating the loyalty and camaraderie that Kirishima clearly felt for Bakugou. “It sounds like you two have a strong bond. I guess that’s why you’re always so ready to jump in and help him out.”

“Definitely,” Kirishima agreed, his tone filled with sincerity. “We’ve got each other’s backs. That’s what matters.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics as you both continued along the path, the forest surrounding you both serene and welcoming. There was a sense of unity and purpose among the group. As you walked beside Kirishima, you felt a deeper understanding of the dynamics within your travelling party and a little bit of Bakugou. 

Your mind drifted back to the night’s encounter. Bakugou had thought you were going to run off, his suspicion evident in the way he confronted you. It wasn’t just that he didn’t trust you— he was actively wary, as if expecting you to betray the group at any moment. The weight of his doubt lingered with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what you could do to earn his trust.

You hadn’t lied when you told him you were a half-elf. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t the full truth either. There were parts of your heritage you hadn’t revealed, things you weren’t ready to share with anyone— not yet. That unspoken part of yourself hung between you and Bakugou like a shadow, a barrier that kept him on edge. You knew the dangers of revealing your true identity. The consequences could be far-reaching, and trust was a fragile thing. So, for now, you would keep it hidden for as long as you could, hoping that time would eventually build the trust you needed to bridge the gap between you and Bakugou.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor, Bakugou and Mina worked together to set up camp. The crackling of the fire was the only sound for a while, save for the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees. Bakugou was unusually quiet, his sharp gaze focused on the task at hand, but his mind was elsewhere. 

After a moment of silence, he glanced at Mina, who was busy laying out bedrolls. “Oi, Mina,” he started, his tone gruff as he tried to sound casual, “how close are you with that cartographer?”

Mina looked up, blinking in surprise at the sudden question. She tilted her head, considering. “We get along fine,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “She's easy to talk to, but… I wouldn’t say we’re super close. Why?”

Bakugou shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though there was a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Just wonderin’. She ever open up to you? Y’know, about her past or whatever?”

Mina shook her head, her antennae twitching slightly as she thought back. “Not really. She’s pretty secretive, honestly. I know She’s a cartographer—travelling all over the place for work. But outside of that, she doesn't share much. She usually keeps to themselves.”

Bakugou frowned, his brows knitting together as he absorbed this information. “So she doesn't talk about where she’s been or what she’s seen?”

Mina shrugged, her expression a mix of curiosity and understanding. “Not much, no. I think she prefers to keep her distance. It’s like she’s here, but her mind is always somewhere else, always on the next map, the next destination.”

Bakugou grunted in response, his gaze drifting towards the trees where the others had gone to collect water and firewood. “Figures,” he muttered, almost to himself. He couldn’t quite place why it bothered him that you were so closed off. Maybe it was because he couldn’t stand not knowing what made someone tick, or maybe it was something else entirely—something he wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself.

Bakugou thought back to that night. You had said you were a half-elf, but something about it didn’t sit right with him. There was a nagging feeling in his gut, a sense that there was more to your story than you were letting on. He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were holding something back, something important. 

But then again, it was still early in the journey. Maybe he was just overthinking it, letting his natural suspicion get the better of him. He huffed, brushing off the unease with a scowl. He was probably just being stupid, reading too much into things that didn’t matter. There was a long road ahead, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted by his own doubts—not yet, anyway.

Mina noticed the thoughtful look on his face and smiled softly. “You’re curious about her, huh? It’s not like you to take an interest in someone’s life like this.”

Bakugou scowled, quickly masking his curiosity with a gruff snort. “Don’t get any ideas, Mina. Just tryin’ to figure out what makes ‘em so damn secretive. It’s annoying.”

Mina chuckled, giving him a knowing look. “Sure, sure. Well, maybe she’ll open up eventually. Who knows? We’ve still got a long journey ahead.”

Bakugou didn’t respond, but the frown on his face deepened as he returned to his task, his mind still turning over the mystery that was you. The more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him. There was something about you that didn’t add up, and Bakugou wasn’t the type to leave a puzzle unsolved.

You returned from gathering firewood with Sero, engaged in light conversation as you both made your way back to camp. Sero was animatedly discussing his latest idea for improving the camp setup when your eyes happened to meet Bakugou’s across the clearing. The moment your gazes locked, the interaction quickly soured into a glare.

Bakugou’s voice cut through the calm evening like a blade. “What are you looking at?” he growled, his tone sharp and challenging.

You met his gaze with a raised eyebrow, your own expression hardening. “I’m just bringing back the firewood, Bakugou. If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, his irritation barely contained. “Oh, I’m just admiring your talent for being annoyingly friendly all the time.”

“Better than being a grumpy jerk,” you shot back, your tone crisp and biting. “At least I’m making an effort to get along with everyone around me.”

Bakugou snorted, his defiant expression unwavering. “Getting along doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

“Well, too bad. You’re stuck with me for the long haul,” you retorted, your eyes challenging as you turned back to Sero.

His scowl deepened, the lines on his forehead etched with frustration. “It’s not my fault if you’re always skulking around like you’re up to something.”

You took offence, the bundle of wood in your arms feeling heavier as your grip tightened. “Oh, spare me. Maybe if you didn’t jump to conclusions all the time, you wouldn’t be so damn paranoid.”

Sero, sensing the escalating tension and the heat of the moment, stepped in with a nervous laugh, trying to defuse the situation. “Hey, let’s just focus on setting up camp, alright? No need to turn this into a fight.”

The two of you exchanged one last, lingering glare before turning away, the bitterness of the encounter still hanging in the air. It was clear that, despite the forced civility, there was a lot of ground to cover before any semblance of mutual respect could be established. The journey ahead was long, and whether you liked it or not, learning to get along would be a necessary part of the road ahead. Both of you would have to navigate your way through this tension, finding common ground amid the bickering and suspicion, if you were to make it through the trials of the journey together.

The tavern’s warm glow flickers over Bakugou’s face as he recounts the early days of the journey to the bard. The firelight dances across the rugged lines of his features, accentuating the gruffness of his expression. His voice, though rough and often brusque, carries a hint of amusement as he describes the mishaps and close calls of their travels. The corner of his mouth curls into a rare, fleeting smile, betraying a sense of camaraderie and nostalgia as he relives the stories of the group’s early adventures. 

“So, let me get this straight,” the bard chuckles, leaning forward, “you two couldn’t stand each other from the start?”

Bakugou snorts, a rare grin tugging at his lips. “Hated each other’s guts. She was too careful, and I was too reckless. We annoyed the hell out of each other every chance we got.”

“We couldn’t stand each other,” Bakugou admits, his tone gruff but tinged with amusement. “Always bickering, always on each other’s nerves. Hell, I thought we were gonna tear each other apart before we even made it halfway.”

The bard chuckles, shaking his head. “Sounds like quite the pair. How’d you manage to get anything done?”

Bakugou laughs, a low, rumbling sound. “By sheer stubbornness. We hated each other, sure, but I’ll give her this—she knew what she was doing. Eventually, we figured out how to make it work. Mostly.” He added with a knowing grin.

The bard laughs as well, eyes twinkling with interest. “And now?”

“Now?” Bakugou leans back, a glint of nostalgia in his eyes. There’s a hint of sadness in them. “Now, we still argue like crazy. But somehow, we make it work.”

It had barely been two weeks of relentless bickering with Bakugou, and every moment felt like a battle you were losing. His sharp words, constant challenges, and the way he always had to have the last word grated on your nerves. You couldn’t stand it. The tension was suffocating, your patience wearing thin with every snarky exchange. The urge to scream clawed at your throat, desperate for release.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air was cool, filled with the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves. A gentle stream gurgled nearby as Mina and you filled water skins for the camp, the soothing sound doing little to quell your growing frustration.

“I swear, Bakugou is impossible!” you huffed, shaking your head as you dipped another skin into the clear water. “He acts like nothing can touch him, diving into danger for convenience!”

Mina glanced at you, an amused smile playing on her lips as she finished tying off one of the filled skins. “You know he’s just being Bakugou. It’s kind of his thing— punch first, ask questions later. But it has worked out before.”

You rolled your eyes, the irritation evident in your voice. “Yeah, but it’s only a matter of time before it doesn’t! He needs to learn to slow down, think things through. When we reach Niniel’s Veil, it’s not just fighting monsters out here; we’ve got traps, puzzles, who knows what else. He’s too reckless!”

Meanwhile, deeper in the woods, Kirishima and Bakugou were trudging through the underbrush, fallen branches crunching underfoot as they gathered firewood. Bakugou’s expression was as stormy as ever, his grip on the axe handle tight as he vented his frustrations.

“That damn guide is a pain in the ass,” Bakugou grumbled, swinging the axe down with a fierce chop. “Always so careful, double-checking every damn thing like I’m some kind of idiot. We don’t have time for all that crap!”

Kirishima chuckled, hoisting a thick branch onto his shoulder. “But isn’t that why you brought her along? To make sure we don’t walk into some ancient trap or something in the Veil? I mean, you’ve got to admit, her method has been smooth sailing.”

Bakugou scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he chopped through another log. “Doesn’t mean she has to question every move I make. I’ve got instincts, damn good ones! She just needs to keep up and stop second-guessing me.”

The complaints overlapped in the forest air, each of you venting to your companions, the words crossing paths but never reaching the intended target.

You shook your head, handing a full water skin to Mina. “He’s so stubborn. I don’t know how he thinks he’s going to survive if he keeps acting like he’s invulnerable. One of these days, he’s going to get us all killed.”

Mina tied off the skin, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe you just need to find a way to work with him, instead of against him. I mean, you’re both pretty set in your ways, but maybe that’s why you butt heads so much. You balance each other out, you know?”

Back with Kirishima, Bakugou grunted, shouldering a bundle of firewood. “She thinks that she knows everything, like she’s got all the answers. But I’ve been through worse, and I’m still standing. She needs to trust that I’ve got this.”

Kirishima adjusted the weight of the branches, his tone calm. “Maybe it’s not about who’s right, but about making sure we all get through this together. You both care about the group, even if you show it in different ways.”

“Urgh..! He’s such a pain! I can’t stand him. He’s such a—”

“She’s such an uptight, overcautious nag! Always acting like she’s got a stick up her—” 

“—reckless, hot-headed maniac! Charging into everything like it’s a damn arena fight! Why can’t he just—” 

“—shut up and let me handle things without acting like I’m gonna blow us all up every five seconds! It’s not like—” 

“—he ever listens to anyone but himself! If he’d just stop and think for one second, maybe we wouldn’t be—” 

“—stuck wasting time because someone has to check every leaf and twig like it’s gonna explode!” 

“—risking our necks because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s not invincible!”

Mina and Kirishima exchanged knowing glances if they were next to each other. They watched the barbarian and the cartographer vent their intense frustrations. The raw display of annoyance was almost comical— both of them so stubborn, so convinced they were right, yet so blind to how similar they really were. Mina chuckled softly, shaking her head at the irony of it all, while Kirishima couldn’t help but grin at the familiar scene. They had seen this play out before: the clash of two strong-willed personalities who, despite their constant bickering, somehow managed to keep the group moving forward.

Neither of you would hear the other’s words, each too wrapped up in your own complaints. The journey ahead was fraught with dangers, and though you couldn’t see it yet, those opposing qualities might just be what kept the group together when the stakes were highest.

There were definitely times when your methods worked best, especially in situations that demanded careful planning and a steady hand. Navigating treacherous terrain and leading with caution—all tasks where your meticulous approach and attention to detail had saved the group from wasting precious resources early in the journey. You were determined to conserve energy and supplies for the challenges that awaited at Niniel’s Veil. 

But there were also moments when Bakugou’s approach was undeniably effective. His instinct to charge forward, to confront danger head-on with raw strength and unwavering confidence, had turned the tide in battles where hesitation could have been fatal. His ability to make quick, decisive moves in the heat of the moment had saved lives more than once.

The early morning air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the faintest scent of dew and pine. The camp was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of awakening birds. The sky, just beginning to blush with the first hints of dawn, cast a soft, golden light over the landscape. You and Bakugou were the only ones awake, the rest of the group still wrapped in the comfort of their sleep. An unspoken tension lingered between you.

Bakugou sat by the embers of the now-dying campfire, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stared out into the growing light. You approached him, your footsteps muffled by the soft ground. The air was crisp and cool, a welcome relief from the stuffy confines of the tent.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the underlying strain. “Since we’re both up, I figured I might as well come with you to scout ahead.”

Bakugou glanced up, his expression a mix of surprise and reluctant approval. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You nodded and fell into step beside him, the two of you moving out of the camp and into the dense underbrush. The forest around you was bathed in a soft, early morning light, the trees casting long, slanting shadows on the ground. The silence of the woods was punctuated only by the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional chirp of a waking bird.

The awkwardness between you was palpable, each step feeling like a small, deliberate choice in a game neither of you wanted to play. Bakugou’s posture remained rigid, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that spoke more of habit than relaxation. You walked beside him, your own gaze alert but focused on maintaining a semblance of peace.

Bakugou was quiet, the weight of unspoken tension hanging between you. He knew that for this journey to work, you both needed to reach some kind of understanding. Begrudgingly, he decided to start the conversation. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew it had to happen.

After a few minutes of strained silence, Bakugou finally broke it. “Why do you hate me so much?” His voice was low and gruff, cutting through the quiet.

You glanced at him, taken aback by the bluntness of his question. “Hate’s a strong word,” you replied, keeping your tone measured. “I don’t hate you. I just think your approach is reckless and puts everyone at risk.”

Bakugou’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “Reckless? You mean taking risks to get things done faster. You’re the one who always plays it safe, wasting time and taking it slow while we’re stuck in the same spot.”

“Oh, come on,” you shot back, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s not about playing it safe. It’s about using our heads and avoiding unnecessary danger. If we take shortcuts without knowing what we’re up against, we’re just asking for trouble.”

“Trouble that we can handle,” Bakugou retorted. “If we keep taking the long way, we’ll never get anywhere. Sometimes you’ve got to take a chance to get ahead.”

You shook your head, exasperated. “And sometimes those chances come with risks that could be avoided. It’s not worth jeopardising everyone’s safety for the sake of saving a few hours.”

As you argued, Bakugou’s eyes fell on a narrow path winding through the woods. He pointed to it, his tone challenging. “Look, there’s a shortcut right there. We could cut through and save a lot of time.”

You pulled out your map and studied it, your brow furrowing. “That shortcut is infested with bandits. I’ve marked it as dangerous. It’s not worth the risk.”

Bakugou’s frustration was palpable. “The group can handle bandits. We’ve fought worse. Why waste time taking the long way around when we can deal with the problem head-on?”

You glared at him, your patience wearing thin. “Because it’s not just about fighting. It’s about making sure we don’t run into more trouble than we can handle. Sometimes avoiding a fight is the smarter move.”

The argument continued, the exchange heated but ultimately inconclusive. Both of you were too entrenched in your own viewpoints to reach an agreement. When you finally returned to camp, you were both visibly frustrated.

The group was still asleep, the peaceful morning broken only by the soft murmur of the wind and the distant chirping of birds. You and Bakugou sat down, waiting for the others to wake up. The lingering tension between you was undeniable, but there was also a sense of shared purpose—an understanding that, despite the disagreements, you both had a role to play in the journey ahead.

As the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, the rest of the group began to stir. Kirishima was the first to sit up, rubbing his eyes and glancing around sleepily. He quickly noticed the strained silence between you and Bakugou, who sat apart from each other, both looking tense and frustrated.

“Uh… morning, guys,” Kirishima said cautiously, trying to gauge the situation. He shot a questioning look at Sero, who was now waking up beside him.

Sero stretched and yawned, then raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Morning. Everything… okay?”

Denki, who had just rolled out of his blanket, leaned in closer to Mina and whispered, “What’s up with them? It’s too early for them to be fighting already.”

Mina, still half-asleep but alert enough to pick up on the tension, whispered back, “I don’t know, but you can feel it from here. They must’ve had another argument while we were asleep.”

“Again?” Denki replied, shaking his head. “You’d think they’d save it for when we’re all awake at least.”

Kirishima stood up and started gathering his things, trying to break the awkwardness. “Alright, let’s start packing up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.” He shot a pointed look at you and Bakugou, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Mina and Denki exchanged a knowing glance before following Kirishima’s lead, quietly packing their belongings while sneaking curious glances at you and Bakugou. Sero sighed and muttered under his breath, “Great, just what we needed. Another day of this.”

As everyone started to pack up, the camp buzzed with quiet activity, but the atmosphere remained heavy. Despite the early morning chill, the tension between you and Bakugou lingered, a silent reminder of the ongoing clash of strategies and personalities.

You had spent the morning turning over Bakugou’s and Mina’s words in your mind. Your aversion to danger wasn’t born from some crippling fear. It was more a matter of practicality, honed by years of travelling alone. The safer, longer paths were the ones you’d come to rely on, not because you couldn’t hold your own in a fight, but because most threats didn’t come alone. As a lone traveller, risking an encounter with a group of enemies wasn’t a gamble you could afford to make. 

You couldn't deny that the idea of taking shortcuts was tempting—who wouldn't want to shave time off a journey? But the longer routes had become second nature to you. They offered a sense of control, a way to avoid unnecessary risks, even if it meant the journey took longer. After all, the longer path had kept you alive this long. But now, you weren’t alone. 

This time, you were guiding a group capable of working together in fights, each member bringing their own strengths to the table. While you understood the weight of responsibility for your choices and the lives of those around you, you also had to acknowledge that they were strong. Maybe it was time to trust in their abilities as much as your own instincts.

So, you decided to give in to Bakugou’s methods. It wasn’t easy—your instinct was to err on the side of caution, to take the longer, safer route. But you couldn’t always reject Bakugou’s ideas. He wasn’t stupid; if anything, he was frustratingly competent. Maybe, just maybe, his method would work out this time.

“Alright,” you said, catching up to him as the group prepared to move out. “Let’s take the shortcut you suggested.”

Bakugou turned to you, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You’re agreeing with me? No complaints about how dangerous it is?”

You shrugged, gripping your sword staff a little tighter. “No, no complaints. If we manage to get through, it’ll get us to Niniel’s Veil quicker. I can see the benefit in different methods.”

He gave you a long, searching look before nodding. “Good. Then let’s get moving. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when we run into trouble.”

You met his gaze, your voice firm. “I’m not scared of trouble.”

The group set off, the atmosphere tinged with a mix of tension and curiosity. Bakugou led the way, his confidence clear in his stride, while you stayed close, your sword staff at the ready. The path was narrow, overgrown, and clearly less travelled— a clear indication of why it was considered a shortcut. The trees loomed overhead, their thick branches casting long shadows on the ground as the sun filtered through in patches.

This shortcut was infamous for the number of bandits lying in wait to ambush travellers. It was certainly a quicker route, but it came with a reputation for trouble, especially in this part of the woods. 

You kept your senses sharp, every sound and movement drawing your attention. The quiet was unnerving, each snap of a twig underfoot sending a jolt of anticipation through you. You could feel the others’ unease too— Mina kept casting glances at you, while Sero and Kirishima’s usual banter had died down, replaced by a focused silence.

Sure enough, as the group pressed deeper into the shortcut, the ambush came. A gang of bandits emerged from the underbrush, their weapons drawn and eyes gleaming with malicious intent. It was clear they’d been lying in wait, expecting easy prey.

“There they are!” one of the bandits shouted, raising his sword. “Get ’em!”

Your grip on the sword staff tightened as you instinctively fell into a defensive stance. “Here we go,” you muttered to yourself, your eyes scanning the bandits for any weaknesses.

Bakugou, however, was already on the move. “Stay close and don’t hold back!” he barked, his voice commanding as he charged forward, his weapon drawn and ready.

The fight was intense and chaotic. The bandits were skilled, but your group was more than a match for them. Bakugou’s aggressive approach caught the bandits off guard, his attacks swift and brutal. You found yourself coordinating with him, your defensive techniques complementing his offence as you fought off the attackers.

“Watch your left!” Bakugou yelled, his voice cutting through the din of battle.

You pivoted, blocking an incoming strike with the shaft of your sword staff before delivering a sharp counterattack. “Cover the right!”

Bakugou grunted in acknowledgment, his movements fluid as he took down another bandit. The two of you moved in sync, your strategies— though different— working together to keep the group protected. Mina and Denki used their abilities to create distance, while Sero and Kirishima provided support, ensuring no one got overwhelmed.

Despite the initial tension, the fight went smoothly. The bandits were eventually routed, their numbers no match for your combined strength. As the last of them fled into the trees, one of them managed to knock you to the ground.

Bakugou was quick to stride over, grabbing your arm and hauling you back to your feet with a force that left you slightly off balance. “Can’t even stay on your feet?” he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Whatever,” you retorted, shaking your head as you brushed the dirt from your clothes. “Thanks, I guess.”

Bakugou chuckled, the sound a low, gruff rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “What was that?” he asked, leaning slightly closer, the smirk widening. “Didn’t quite catch that. Why don’t you say it again?”

You shot him a glare, pausing in your task to look him squarely in the eye. “Don’t push your luck, Bakugou. I said what I said.”

His smirk only grew, clearly enjoying the reaction he’d provoked. “That’s what I thought. You’re welcome, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes, slotting your sword staff into your pack. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And you’re welcome,” he repeated, the teasing tone unmistakable.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile a little as you adjusted your backpack. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to be grateful every time you play hero.”

Bakugou’s eyes glinted with amusement as he rolled his shoulders, preparing to continue the journey. “Wouldn’t dream of it. But you might want to work on that ‘thank you’ anyway. We’ve got a long journey ahead.”

You shook your head, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward. “Keep dreaming.”

There was a pause as the both of you caught your breath, the adrenaline of the fight slowly ebbing away. The forest around you was quiet again, save for the distant rustle of leaves and the soft breeze. You both stood there, a few feet apart, the tension that had filled the air earlier now replaced by a tentative calm. 

Bakugou looked at you, his gaze steady as he wiped a bit of dirt off his arm. “Told you it’d work out,” he said, his voice gruff but surprisingly even. “Sometimes, you just have to take the risk.”

You couldn’t help but grin, albeit begrudgingly. There was something about his blunt confidence that, for once, you couldn’t argue with. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. “But next time, we do it my way.”

Bakugou snorted, a sound that was more amused than dismissive. There was no malice in it, just a hint of teasing. “We’ll see about that. But admit it— my way wasn’t so bad this time.”

You chuckled, a strange sense of camaraderie settling between you, easing the usual friction. “I guess I’ll give you that. But just this once.”

Bakugou’s eyes glinted with a mix of satisfaction and challenge as he crossed his arms over his chest, a small smirk still playing on his lips. “Once is all I need,” he replied, the competitive edge in his voice unmistakable.

The tension that usually hung between you had softened, replaced by something that felt almost like mutual respect. The group, though tired, seemed more cohesive after the battle, the tension of the shortcut replaced by a sense of accomplishment. As you resumed your journey, the atmosphere was lighter, the lingering animosity between you and Bakugou beginning to thaw—if only just a little.

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a/n: maybe you guys can make out instead of fighting. Every Twosday yall !! @chocogoldie @l0kisbitch @devils-adversary

border credits: @enchanthings & @adornedwithlight

[knight-says-rollout]

Would you mind telling us about more disabled Cybertronians?

Oh boy would I

For this list let’s focus on physical disabilities, both because they’re the most commonly dismissed by the fandom and bc if we try to cover everything we’d be here all day (that can be another list, maybe, if y’all want)

This isn’t going to be comprehensive bc I’m tired but!! I will aim for a broad variety of examples nonetheless

Bumblebee - You all know him, you all love him. He’s the most obvious and most well known example of a disabled Cybertronian character.

In many iterations he is mute

Not by choice but because he lacks a voice box. Bee physically isn’t capable of speech and depending on the version has different tools to work around that. Sometimes he uses his radio to repurpose song and radio dialogue into speech, in cyberverse he also makes use of the internet for clips. In the aligned continuity (tfp and connected media) he speaks in binary, a very simplified form of language using beeps and buzzes, but still lacks a real voice and can’t form words.

In IDW he has a cane

At one point in the comics Bumblebee was shot by a human protester and as a result used a cane for a good bit of time. I haven’t had the chance to read that far into IDW yet so I’m not sure how long he had the cane for but it was enough time that it’s a solidified part of the charcaters history. I’ve seen little models of the cane for sale, to be paired with bee figures.

TFP Ultra Magnus - everyone’s favorite awkward commander, despite his popularity he’s surprisingly overlooked when it comes to this discussion

An amputee, he lost his hand

During an energon raid with wheeljack, magnus’ hand was crushed. Ratchet couldn’t save it and had to amputate, replacing it with a hooked prosthetic. I call it a prosthetic rather than replacement part because despite him being able to move it, it’s not a hand. Not in the way he had previously, and he has to relearn how to use it at all.

I think that’s an important distinction to make when discussing disability and transformers. Some bots might have only ever had one hand, or no legs, or etc but that’s always been their level of ability and since they Are robotic. Yeah they might not have the same capabilities as another bot but that’s a hard metric to go by. Seekers can fly but a grounder isn’t disabled because they can’t fly too, it’s a different standard.

WFC Shamble - far lesser known than Magnus, and reasonably so, this background character is Also missing a limb

Amputee, leg edition

His prosthetic is a lot less fancy than magnus’s, it’s a simple peg leg. Put em together and you get a pirate. Not much to say about him since i don’t know how he lost the leg, just that he did.

Shadow Striker - Most awesome lady in cyberverse. Unlike the above two, she Was able to get actual replacement parts rather than prosthetics. Despite this, she is both shown throughout the show and implied to have

Impaired mobility

Chronic pain

She was able to get replacement parts yes but they were needed because she was blown up. The limbs she was given were kinda just what the others could Find and as such are mismatched and don’t fit her very well. Her motor skills took a blow especially when it comes to combat, something she used to excel in. Her new limbs are described as unstable and prone to malfunction. The loss of mobility and implied chronic pain that come along with her situation are rough, but she makes do.

SG Soundwave - my favorite little guy, he’s in a bit of a different situation than the previous.

Bad Joints ™

His body was entirely overhauled multiple times, successfully, but the latest frame change was done with conflicting metals. Earth and Cybertronian materials clash in his joints, making them prone to getting stopped up. The most affected hinge being the one on the door to his tape deck. It is so prone to getting stuck that his cassettes refuse to dock with him at risk of getting trapped. To work around this, Soundwave has the aid of a personalized case he carries around that they dock in instead.

IDW Sunstreaker - speaking of assistive devices, this guy was (for a time) a wheelchair user! Or,, hoverchair.

Temporary,,, paraplegic? Correct me if another term fits better

Taking this moment for an aside to say hey!! Lookit that, both canes and hoverchairs are things that canonically and casually exist on cybertron!! It’s not too wild to assume there are bots out there who use them long term!! Yes both characters on this list were repaired eventually but they’re also both very popular old characters from an action based franchise and hasbro doesn’t have the balls to make something like that permanent yet. We the fandom are not hasbro. We can do whatever we damn want with our OCs. It’s canon that ur little guy can use mobility aids.

Ok, PSA over, anyway yeah Sunny’s body was basically wrecked and alpha trion was able to repair all of him except his legs. This put him in a hoverchair for a good amount of time.

Finback - he’s a con, a pirate, who developed a “metal wasting disease”

He’s on permanent life support

The disease is going to kill him eventually, and it’s explicitly stated that he’s come to terms with the idea of his death. In the meantime he’s using pretender tech, kinda like fancy armor, to reinforce himself and boost his immune system

Perceptor - for a microscope, the fact he’s got vision issues in multiple continuities is kinda ironic

He’s fully blind in cyberverse

He lost an eye in IDW

Between the two we get to see both routes taken to work with this. Adaption and technological aid. In cyberverse he uses his scope to compensate for the loss of vision Toph-style. In IDW he built himself a monocle that basically replaces the pieces that are missing.

Now we get into the uniquely Cybertronian disabilities, one’s that don’t quite translate to human conditions

Transmutate - is a beloved bot from beast wars

They can’t transform, they don’t have an alt mode

I’m hazy on the details of their character but afaik they came from a damaged stasis pod. Described as deformed and handicapped for their both their lack of an alt mode and general appearance, they are probably the oldest explicitly disabled Cybertronian character

Xaaron - from G1 is in a similar situation

He can’t transform, it would kill him

Unlike transmutate he does have an alt mode, a tank, but after thousands of years without transforming he is no longer able to. The new stress it would cause on his body would kill him.

Broadside - continuing with the subject of alt modes, this clumsy boy is a boat! That’s not a good thing.

He’s very prone to motion sickness

As you can imagine, chronic sea sickness isn’t the most helpful thing when you are the boat. This brings in the entirely new element of mobility issues that are inherent to alt modes. A bot that functions fine in root form might not in alt mode and vice versa.

Trailbreaker - is another instance of this. He’s not a fast car by any means but that doesn’t stop the fact

His frame has a very high energon cost

Possibly the least fuel efficient autobot, he’s got an outlier ability on top of it all that only further increases his required energon intake. He needs to pay more attention to his energon levels and refuel more often overall.

G1 Knockout - yes that’s right the shiny medic himself is on this list, though not for the same reason as his tfp version, g1 knockout still lives up to his name

He’s prone to fainting

A knockout in the more literal sense, he faints when he gets too excited. Fully collapses and everything. Since he’s a fall risk, his teammates take care to keep an eye on him.

Annnnd Yknow he probably should’ve been earlier in the list along with the “human-ish” issues but I’m tired, it’s late, and I’m bringing this list to a close

Im sure there are more characters that I didn’t mention but I hope this helped! Thank you for the ask

[omegaverse-anthropologist]

going feral

i’ve mentioned feral alphas and omegas in a few posts before, but what does that mean? this post will discuss ferality,* its causes, common feral behaviors, and treatment.

*note: i will be using ‘ferality’ as opposed to the technically proper ‘ferity’ because the latter is based on the latin root and sounds pretentious, and the former is based on the english word and is more accessible

what is ferality?

ferality is a medical emergency caused most commonly by social isolation. it causes those afflicted to behave erratically, and is the most common cause of forced bites. it is one of the top ten causes of death for those over 80 years old. it is also called ‘loneliness disease’ or ‘bite fever,’ and is often euphemistically described as ‘losing oneself.’ in the past, more than a week of ferality was incurable. today, synthetic hormones and careful medically supervised management leads to over 90% of those afflicted to make a full recovery if treated before one week, and over 80% to regain most normal function if treated before two weeks. outcomes become less positive the longer someone experiences ferality, but there have only been 1,762 documented deaths directly from ferality in the US since 1980.

why does it happen?

humans in the omegaverse are pack animals not only because their ancestors saw practical advantages to living, hunting, and raising pups in groups, but because they were biologically dependent on one another. in simplest terms, interacting with pack aids the body in maintaining its optimal balance between the twelve dynamic (i.e., alpha, beta, and omega) hormones. prolonged lack of social support means that these hormones become unbalanced, leading the body to a state of multi-system disregulation.

ferality greatly reduces people’s access to the areas of the brain responsible for decision making, planning, empathy, and abstraction. it is the body’s desperate bid to regulate itself by any means necessary. those afflicted become impulsive, aggressive, and violent in some cases, so it is essential both for the afflicted person and those nearby that if you spot a feral person, you call emergency services immediately.

how do you spot it?

feral humans are fairly easy to spot based on their unusual, erratic, impulsive behavior. they may sniff the air (or other people) unsubtly, grab or touch things (or people) and fail to respond to spoken language. ferality is most commonly associated with inappropriate scent marking and biting for good reason: a feral person’s primary drive is to share scent with someone to help bring themselves back into balance. there are also some behaviors that can generally be attributed to the different dynamic sexes:

alphas

feral alphas tend to make aggressive eye contact as a posturing behavior

growling, snarling, and clicking at no one in particular

clenching and unclenching the fists and shifting from foot to foot

violence, especially toward other alphas

an acrid scent, like burning rubber or sulfur

betas

feral betas’ eyes tend to shift rapidly, settling on nothing for very long

humming, clicking, huffing at no one in particular

similar to alphas, they clench and unclench the fists and shift from foot to foot

general restlessness, moving quickly

climbing and perching inappropriately (e.g. on tables, vehicles, or buildings)

a rotting scent, like old meat or milk

omegas

feral omegas tend to make glancing eye contact—they meet someone’s eyes, hold, and look away several times

whining, purring, and clicking at no one in particular

baring the neck indiscriminately in a bid to entice a bite

hiding/burrowing (e.g. under tables or in closets. there have been several cases of feral omegas in clothing stores nesting in the clothing racks)

a chemical scent, like bleach or ammonia

how is it treated?

if you spot someone afflicted by ferality, it is essential to call for an ambulance immediately.

treatment begins in the ambulance. typically, EMS technicians anesthetize the individual for everyone’s safety. once it is safe to do so, the technicians draw blood and begin measuring vital signs and hormone levels to ensure that the individual truly is feral. in the past 30 years, rapid tests have made measuring hormone levels faster than ever. these levels are recorded and passed off to hospital triage, along with a record of any emergency hormones administered.

the hospital then brings the individual to the feral ward, where they have an individual room and nesting material marked with synthetic pheromones of all three dynamics. if the individual has been feral for less than ~three days, typically this is enough to trigger their body to begin regulating itself. in some cases, the individual may need direct scent marking in order to jumpstart regulation. if it’s necessary, a nurse or technician will swab the individual’s face and neck with a cotton swab soaked in a synthetic pheromone solution.

in more moderate to severe cases, the individual may need further assistance regulating themselves. in these cases, the individual will receive intravenous hormones and extremely frequent monitoring.

typically, after a few days of hormone therapy, the individual’s body will have reached a state of equilibrium and will be able to maintain the balance itself again. however, in some severe cases, the individual’s body may be unable to maintain the balance. these people will need hormone therapy every other week indefinitely. in some cases (especially those where there is also malnutrition or other severe condition), the issue will resolve itself with time. in others, the hormone treatment is for life.

how is it prevented?

the best prevention is maintaining healthy pack bonds. if, for some reason, this is inaccessible, clinics, health departments, and hospitals typically have nesting materials marked with synthetic pheromones. in the past five years, some nesting material companies have begun offering materials marked with synthetic pheromones. in addition, matching agencies sometimes offer scent-marked clothing or nesting materials for sale, though this practice is judged fairly harshly.

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Baby Fever [Emily x Reader]

Photo Credits Left and Right (@meditando-en-paris) Center (@emily12o1970)

Prompt: The reader asks Emily if she wants to have a baby together. While this is a surprise, Emily has a little question of her own for the reader.

Pairing: [established relationship] Emily x Non-BAU!reader. The Reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: fluff/comfort

Word Count: 6.8K

Content Warnings: Slight angst, talk of getting pregnant, food and alcohol are mentioned, implied intimacy, discussion of politics. If I missed any, please let me know.  

A/N: Hi all! I’m so sorry it’s been a while since I’ve posted any fics in a while. The end of the semester has been wildly busy. However, I return with an Emily fic for @imagining-in-the-margins March and April writing challenge. I made my own prompt that is, a member of the couple isn’t sure they’ll make a good parent; they are reassured by a friend that they will be perfect. This is a continuation of my Moschino and Muddy Water series. You can find parts one, two, three, and four here (linked) You can read this as a stand-alone as well, you just need to know the reader works for a senator. This story kind of humbled me and challenged me as it took a long time to write and I needed to do lots of edits on it. But that is a good reminder for me. Writing can be hard, but it is worth the result to see you can come what you can come up with. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/s/t = your skin tone 

_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent

Emily walked into the living room of her apartment. y/n and she had recently repainted it a neutral beige that Derek had described as “sad sand” at brunch with Penelope, Spencer, JJ, and Will last month. y/n had nearly choked on her drink as he made the remark. It had been y/n’s idea to repaint their space to a more relaxing color. When y/n had suggested it, Emily had said, “Oh, what brought this on lover? Wasn’t it you last week who mentioned the security deposit on this place?” Em liked teasing y/n about these things because y/n was always a little more impulsive about things. Their dynamic remained light despite the hectic nature of their jobs. The ability to relax and joke in their off time kept both y/n and Prentiss sane. However, they were good at reading each other, most of the time. When things felt heavy or the job was pushing them to the edge of a breakdown, the jokes and teasing went out the window. 

Only once had y/n made a joke in poor taste about a case that Emily had not yet fully described, and the tall brunette had snapped. y/n had looked at her girlfriend with shock. Prentiss never spoke to her in this tone nor with the angry expression she had on her face. The silence in the room after Emily's outburst was deafening. Emily instantly felt guilty for how she had reacted. Prentiss cleared her throat and tried to apologize, but y/n said, “Save it. I need a minute.” y/n had moved back to their room and closed the door, and burst into tears. ‘A minute’ turned out to be a long sleepless night for the couple. y/n tossed and turned and wondered if she was overreacting and what she had missed about Emily when she came in with her go-bag. She had seemed fine to y/n as she came in with a smile and normal attitude. Meanwhile on the couch, Emily wondered why she had reacted with such venom. y/n was only trying to lighten the mood, and she hadn’t said how horrible she felt. If she had, Emily knew y/n would hug her and kiss her and make her feel better inside of cracking a joke. Prentiss sat up and looked out the open window onto to the street as a few cars drove by. Emily wondered what brought those driving out so late. Who were they and where they were going? She wondered if they were happy. She slumped back into the couch cushions and missed the warmth of y/n’s snuggled up in front of her and the cool feel of their sheets over them. 

In the morning, both Em and y/n had gotten up at the same time. Prentiss moved into their room which she found unlocked. y/n looked up at her. Em could see that she had been crying and the lack of sleep on y/n’s face. Before Prentiss could say anything, y/n stated, “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m sorry for how I acted. Immature and like a child. You didn’t deserve that.” Emily dropped her head and replied, “I’m sorry too. It was wrong of me to shout at you like that. You were just trying to make me happy.” y/n swallowed and said, “I was, but I must have been missing something. Would you tell me about the case, or what caused you to act like that?” 

Prentiss nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed taking y/n’s hand in hers. “Yes. Let me explain. Thank you for giving me the time and care to listen.” After a long conversation, the pair set up some boundaries about not keeping things inside after cases for Emily and taking time to check in after she got home for y/n. y/n knew Emily had been acting okay, but in reality, she wasn't. y/n noted that if she was in Emily’s shoes, she might want to laugh after work and a case and y/n thought Emily might feel the same way. So after they had talked and kissed and made up, they both felt a bit crusty and decided to take a shower together. 

It felt wonderful as Emily’s strong hands moved down her y/s/t’ed shoulders and back. The soap suds moved down y/n’s back and Prentiss rubbed them over her lush behind and thighs. y/n sighed into the touch. When Emily had finished rinsing y/n off, y/n turned and had Em face the water. y/n placed a dollop of her shampoo that smelled of rose and juniper berry in her palm. Prentiss smiled as y/n’s fingers brushed through her silky dark strands of hair massaging her scalp and then making sure that all of her locks were coated in shampoo before turning Em to rinse off her shoulder-length hair. After a few more minutes the water started running tepid, and y/n and Emily got out and dried off. They spent the rest of the Saturday morning lounging around and getting coffee from the fancy place two blocks over. It felt lovely to be back and not have an argument hanging over them. As y/n opened the door for Prentiss, she thought about how they worked together. They had their moments and arguments like any couple, but all in all, they were steady. It seemed that steady was something new to both of them, and it made them happy and secure in one another. It had made y/n so happy and secure that it had got her thinking about roots, about the future. 

A few weeks later, y/n woke up early and realized that Emily was up. She snapped her laptop shut. The sound had Em turn around and look at y/n with just a hint of concern in her dark eyes. y/n smiled and got out of her seat saying, “Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” Emily’s face broke into a soft smile and she replied, “I slept well. I love it when you’re the big spoon. It makes me sleep like a baby.” y/n got up and wrapped Em in a hug and whispered in her ear, “Well, I’ll have to do that more often then.” y/n inhaled her smell and tried to hide the blush on her face before pulling back and saying, “Do you want some breakfast and coffee? Or maybe a mimosa. I feel like cooking something if you want.” Prentiss nodded and said, “I think I could go for some blueberry or chocolate chip waffles if you’re down to make them.” y/n nodded and replied, “Of course. What are we feeling for drinks?” Em let out a small laugh and said, “Well, how about I make us lattes and you pop open some prosecco? We’ve still got juice in the fridge too. I’ll get the glasses.” y/n nodded knowing that Emily didn’t like popping corks --  a quirk that y/n thought was so cute. Em turned away to get the fluted glasses for the mimosas and while her back was turned she considered how y/n had been acting the last few days. It was like she was holding some secret. When y/n’s computer was in front of her, y/n always seemed to close it quickly or move it so she couldn’t see the screen. It wasn’t only that. Sometimes she was on the phone and talking quietly to someone she didn’t know. The pit in Emily’s stomach grew. And yet when she looked back at y/n who was humming her new favorite song while pulling eggs out from the middle row of the fridge. 

This was so unlike y/n to hide things from her. When it had first happened, Emily thought that maybe y/n was cheating but that wasn’t something that y/n would do unless she had really misread her girlfriend and their relationship wasn’t going anywhere. This bothered Prentiss because she was planning on asking y/n to marry her in a month on their second anniversary. Even if things weren’t good with them, which y/n’s behavior indicated otherwise, Prentiss was uncomfortable with y/n hiding things from her. Em had a good way of feeling out people, and y/n had seemed more excited to be with her recently, so all of the messages both verbal and nonverbal were throwing her for a loop. Prentiss was going to talk to JJ and Penelope about it on Monday to see if they had any insight into what was going on. At this point, y/n and the rest of the girls on the BAU were thick as blood. Em took a breath and decided to not let her self-doubt ruin their relationship. She had let that happen before, and even though it had turned out to be a good thing, Emily didn’t want to do that here. She loved y/n, and she knew y/n loved her. If y/n needed to tell her something, Emily knew she would, even if it was something difficult to hear. Prentiss fixed her face and took a breath before setting the glasses on the counter for y/n who leaned in and gave her a kiss before she moved to the coffee maker. 

y/n started mixing up the waffle batter. y/n didn’t like keeping things from Emily, but this was such a big subject to even bring up, and she wanted to have all of the facts beforehand. Not so that she could try and argue her point with Emily, but so she was sure it was what she wanted. But the more y/n looked at their options of getting pregnant, the firmer y/n was about her desire to start a family with Em. It was a conversation they had had before. A shared desire to have kids and raise them in a house full of love and tenderness that neither y/n nor Emily had had as children growing up on opposite sides of the globe. So the topic of wanting kids wouldn’t be a shock, just how quickly y/n was bringing it up. And if Emily said she needed more time, y/n would wait, but she couldn’t deny that her baby fever was growing thanks to JJ’s pregnancy and some recent laws passing. The whole idea made y/n’s stomach flutter in both delight and worry. Thankfully y/n was almost ready to tell Em, and again there would be no secrets to hold, just a future to plan, whatever that looked like for them. 

         The following Monday at work, Emily found Penelope in her office with its room full of screens and trinkets. Prentiss smiled at how Garcia’s personality shone through wherever she was. Em found the tech whizz inspirational in that way and many others. Garcia was busy typing something on her laptop and Emily had called her name twice already. Without any other options apart from pulling the plug on one of Penelope's babies, Emily tapped her on the shoulder instead. The genius shot out of her seat and Prentiss was eternally grateful that Gacria wasn’t holding one of her large cups of soda. “My God Emily, are you trying to get me out of my skin?” Penelope retorted when she had caught her breath. Em smiled and said, “It was that, or pull the plug on your computer. I thought you’d appreciate the latter. I did call your name twice.” Garcia let out a shaky laugh and said, “Okay, well lord, I have to stop listening to music so loud when I’m at work. Hotch got mad at me for it once already and somehow he’s always right because I don’t want to be scared like that again. So what brings you to my cave today dear? Need me to cast a love spell on you?” Prentiss laughed and replied, “Well I’m okay on that front. A clarification spell might be more in order. Are you back on the RPG game again?” Garcia blushed and said, “Maybe, maybe not. Anyhow, does the team need my presence?” Em nodded her head no, sat down on the ledge of Penelope's table, and said, “Not right now. I was just wondering if y/n had talked to you recently. She’s been acting kind of strange in the last three weeks and I just wanted to know if she has something planned?” 

Penelope was buzzing in her seat because she had an answer but had promised y/n that she wouldn’t say anything to Emily about it. y/n had discreetly asked around the office if anyone knew someone who had IVF treatments before and would be willing to talk candidly about the process, how much it cost, and the pros and cons of the procedure. The only other person who did know someone who had gone through In Vitro Fertilization was Rossi, but Dave didn’t think that person would want to discuss such an intimate part of their lives with a stranger, even if it was a friend of his. However, Penelope had a good friend named Shayla back from her college days who was now a happy single mom and had moved to the Virginia area last year for a new job with her little boy. y/n had met Shayla once before, and when Garcia brought her up as a possibility, y/n almost begged her to ask Shayla if she was comfortable talking about the long process. When Pen brought it up in their next catch-up call, Shayla happily agreed to share her knowledge. She had done plenty of research before deciding to move forward with having a child on her own, understood the great sacrifice and fears that could come with it, and was happy to give any helpful information she had. Of course, this conversation had prompted Penelope to ask y/n why she was asking and y/n had revealed that she was thinking of asking Emily to have a baby with her. Garcia had freaked out, jumping up and down in excitement. y/n had to stop her from running out of the room and shouting at anyone that her friend was getting pregnant. Once the blonde analyst had settled down, y/n took a breath and said, “Now Penelope. I know you’re excited but I’m just in the research stage which sounds calculated when I put it like that, I haven’t told Emily about this yet and I need to be sure I feel confident before I spring this on her. Could you please please, please not tell her?” Garcia nodded seriously and said, “My lips are sealed. I pinky promise.” y/n let out a sigh of relief. 

But as Garcia was faced with Emily now, it wasn’t as easy as telling y/n her secret was safe. It was threatening to burst out of her seams and she needed to come up with an excuse fast or risk losing a dear friend in y/n. Penelope cleared her throat and said, “Hey, Em. I kinda stayed up all night playing that game and well as you can see I’m running numbers for Stan’s team….” She gave her best pleading eyes that seemed to work on everyone. Prentiss let out a soft laugh and replied, “Alright, What flavor do you want grape, Cola, or orange?” Pen smiled brightly and said, “Orange, please. You are a lifesaver!” Emily patted her on the top of her blond head and said, “Well just hope Hotch or JJ doesn’t call a new case while I’m gone. You should get someone to install controls or something on your system at home to stop you from staying up twenty-four-seven.” Garica scoffed, looked at Emily’s retreating form, and said, “Baby, if anyone could crack into my harddrive, I’d let them.” As Emily moved out of the office and toward the 7-11 to get Penelope’s soda, she felt relieved. Not that she fully believed nothing was happening with y/n, but if the team hadn’t noticed anything, then, it made her feel better. Once Emily was out of sight, Penelope whipped out her phone and texted y/n: “Emily is asking questions, baby girl. I’d start thinking about asking her soon or she might find out what you’re doing.” 

The week moved by quickly with lots of paperwork for Emily and the start of a new campaign cycle for y/n who moaned about it as much as possible without being annoying to Em. It didn’t help that the senator y/n worked with had gotten themselves into another scandal that was rocking their office and party. When y/n was going on a rant about corruption on Friday night Emily hugged her from behind, kissed her temple, and said, “I’m sorry sweetheart. I know it’s annoying, but you're good at your job even if it’s a bad system. But that doesn’t make you bad.” y/n relaxed into Prentiss’s embrace. y/n let out a sigh and said, “I’m sorry for going off. I know it’s annoying.” Emily nuzzled her face into y/n’s neck to relax her further as she whispered, “Don’t apologize y/n. Work can be agonizing sometimes, I know that as much as anyone. If it bothers me I'll tell you. Now, how about we do something fun tomorrow? We could get brunch at that place we like in midtown. You know the place where you asked me out officially?” y/n’s face broke out into a smile and she said, “I’d love that Em. Sorry if I’ve been a little distant right now. I’ve been thinking about some things and I want to share them with you in the morning. It’s nothing bad or anything, but something I just want to discuss with you. You’re everything to me love, and I’m so happy we’re together.” Prentiss’s heart fluttered knowing that y/n was finally going to tell her what was going on. Her words were reassuring, that it ‘wasn't’ bad’ or ‘anything bad about her,’ but even so, her nerves sang inside as they both headed to bed. 

In the morning, y/n woke up slightly early for a Saturday and got into a hot shower. She washed her body in _y/f/s_ed body wash. She then moved to her hair and shampooed and conditioned it. Lastly y/n shaved so her legs were smooth. When she stepped out of the shower, Emily was up. y/n walked into their room in a towel, and Em looked up from the bed, Her brown eyes got wider and she said, “Well, good morning, love?” y/n smiled and said, “Morning sweetheart.” y/n dropped her towel, and lazily crawled on the bed. Emily followed her with her eyes and her tongue slipped out of her mouth and wetted her lower lip subconsciously. y/n grinned and moved over Emily’s body and kissed her gently at first and then with more passion. Em snaked her hands around y/n’s hips. Once y/n’s tongue was slipped into Emily’s mouth, her fingers moved to y/n’s hair and tugged it gently at the root. After y/n and Prentiss were desperate for air, y/n pulled away and moved onto her knees before saying, “Maybe we should get dressed or we’ll miss brunch sweetheart.” Emily whined and said, “Do we have to?” y/n laughed and replied, “I think so. I’m in need of a good mimosa and waffle. Plus, we can get right back to this when we get back if we want.” Emily sat up and brushed her thumb over y/n’s jaw before saying, “Alright love. Give me a few minutes to get ready and we can go. It’s good if we go sooner though because you know how crazy that place gets after 11:00.” y/n nodded in agreement as she moved to the closet to pick out a spring dress and some matching jewelry while Emily used the bathroom and vanity to get ready. Emily chose a pink jumpsuit that fit her curves perfectly and was strapless showing off her lovely shoulders and neck. 

y/n and Emily got to the restaurant before the big rush and were seated outside at a quiet corner table surrounded by a fence and hedge that gave the space a cool and calm feeling away from the bustle inside and the rush of cars outside. A waiter came and got their drink orders and while he was there, Emily and y/n also ordered pain au chocolat. Emily got a glass of white wine and y/n got a pomegranate mimosa, and they both got coffee. The lean man noted what they wanted and moved away. The wait time at this spot was longer giving people time to relax and talk. y/n looked at Emily wondering if she should start the conversation. Emily returned y/n’s smile, her face looking radiant in the glow of the midmorning sun. Prentiss shifted in her seat and said, “You’ve been looking so happy the last few days. Whatever it is you have to tell me I just want to say I’m so happy to see you like this. I wish every day could be like this. That there wasn’t the stress or worry of our jobs looming over us. But you make me feel safe and seen every day, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Once Emily said the words aloud, the idea in her head sprang so full and bright that she felt like she might be bowled over by a small breeze. The idea had been there for a few months but she hadn’t planned it. Certainly hadn’t even dreamed of it being like this, but it felt so right. When she looked over at y/n who was clearly saying something, Emily thought for a brief moment that she might be looking at the sun, blinding it it’s light and radiance. Prentiss cleared her throat and mind and finally heard y/n repeat, “Are you alright darling? You were in your own world there for a second.” Emily nodded now knowing what she was going to do and said, “Yeah I’m good. I just had an idea. So I suppose I have something to tell you too. But you go first. What was it you were wanting to tell me today that you’ve been so secretive about?” y/n blushed and felt better now that they both were going to say something, though she had no idea what Emily had up her sleeve. y/n replied, “Well why don’t you go first.” Prentiss shot back teasingly, “No you first.” They repeated this one more time before they both blurted out at the same time: 

“I want to have a baby with you.” 

“I want to marry you.” 

When Emily and y/n both registered what the other had said they were stunned into silence. y/n felt her chest tighten with emotions that threatened to bubble over. She composed herself first and asked in awe, “Emily Prentiss, are you proposing to me right now?” Emily took a shallow breath in at what y/n had said about wanting a baby and y/n’s question and, she said, “I am, sweetheart. It just felt right right now. I don’t want to spend another day without you being mine in the most real way possible. Time just goes by so fast and as soon as we know it we’ll both be grey and have bad knees. We’re both gone so often from each other so I’d like you to be mine if you’re willing to be. y/n, will you marry me?” Emily got out of her chair and onto one knee. Again she was glad they were in a quieter part of the restaurant. y/n nodded her head yes and fell to her knees next to Em embracing her in a hug and saying, “Yes, Oh of course I will. I love you so much, I want my whole life with you.” They both stayed there for a moment on the brick floor before Emily raised her head from y/n’s shoulder wiping her own eyes of the salty liquid at her corneas before pulling back and helping y/n to her feet. They hugged properly with a tight embrace that said they would never be apart for longer than they had to be, and even when they were apart, they would still be together. Em pulled back and said, “I’m sorry I don’t have a ring for you, but it just felt right to ask you now. I promise I’ll get you one that’s just perfect.” y/n smiled and said, “I know whatever you pick out will be perfect love.” She leaned in and planted her mouth on Emily’s and they both let go of each other with a feeling of lightness and ecstasy that neither had expected this morning in bed. Just as they both sat down, the waiter returned with their pastries and drinks on a tray. He set all the plates and glasses down and said he’d be back in a bit to see if they needed anything else. 

Once he had gone, y/n and Emily raised their glasses to their engagement and y/n said, “To the best fiance I could ever ask for!” As they clinked glasses Em added, “And to my favorite person in the whole world.” They both took sips of their drinks and what y/n had said resurfaced to the front of Prentiss’s mind after the euphoria of y/n saying yes to her proposal dimmed slightly. Em leaned forward and asked, “y/n you want to have a baby?” y/n flushed and nodded sheepishly. Suddenly talking to Emily about this made her feel nervous. With a steadying breath y/n replied, “Not just a baby Em. I want to have your baby. I’ve been researching reciprocal IVF. Looking up what the procedure is like for both parties, how expensive it is, and where there are clinics nearby that we could visit and consult with. I even went as far as talking to some people who’ve done it before to see how their experience was for them. That’s what I’ve been researching for the last few weeks. And I know this sounds so fast. Like I’m rushing. I don’t mean to pressure you into making a choice now or next week or month or even year. I just want you to know that I’d love to build a life with you. A life that might include children in the future if that’s something you're interested in. I just wanted to have all the facts I could about what that would possibly be like before springing something this big on you” Emily absorbed the information and took a sip of her drink. She said with a smile, “Look at you doing your research. Not that you don’t research, but I think we’re rubbing off on each other. You’re making me more comfortable in making big moves like proposing while I’m making you research a topic as much as possible.” y/n laughed and said, “Well, I guess that makes us pretty compatible, huh.” Emily chuckled and continued to think about what y/n had just said. 

It wasn’t something they had talked about recently, but children was a topic of discussion they had had and it made Emily relieved to know that y/n left that secure in their relationship that it was something she was seriously thinking about. Now that they were engaged, it only made more sense, even though y/n couldn’t have known that coming into today. For a moment Emily pictured y/n cradling their baby, and then a toddler running around their apartment, and the child grown up and going off to school. Prentiss pulled herself from the film playing in her head. As lovely an image as it was, it was a lot to think about. She lifted her eyes up to y/n’s nervous gaze. Prentiss moved her right hand to y/n’s and held it across the table saying, “I think that’s a beautiful idea y/n. It is a lot to think about. I do appreciate that you’re comfortable enough to tell me something that’s really important to you. Would you mind if I give it some time to think through?” y/n squeezed Emily’s palm and replied, “Take all the time you need love. There’s no rush.” Prentiss felt a surge of warmth move through her not associated with the fact that she was sitting in the sun. Having someone as passionate and who understood her so well was the best thing that could have happened to her. Emily did wonder if something had prompted y/n into her desire for children. She’d never been one to have baby fever before now and the shift was interesting to her. 

Emily watched y/n sip her drink and relax in her chair a bit. Prentiss asked, “Sweetheart, what sparked your desire for kids if anything? Or did it just sort of happen?” y/n sighed and said, “It’s been coming for a while I think, but things have made it speed up for me I suppose.” Emily nodded her head as if to say, “Keep going, love.” y/n placed her palms flat on the table and continued, “I guess that so much crazy stuff has been happening in the country recently. I know you know that. We both do as we work in the government, but the upturning of Roe V. Wade and all the crazy abortion bans popping up all over the place. I suppose I just don’t want to be too late. Like one day we both decided it was time and by then we didn’t even have that option. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or to push you in any way, we have time, it’s just made me prioritize some things in my life that I hadn’t given too much thought to before now. I mean if Alabama can almost stop IVF then I’m afraid of what might come after that. I suppose having a child became more important to me the more things like that happen here.” 

Emily gave a soft smile, she could more fully see where y/n was coming from and it made sense with her personality. Em moved her hand across the table and stroked her cheek gently before saying, “That makes sense darling. I’m going to have to think about it for a while before we do anything, but maybe when we get home, you can tell me a bit more about the process, and the cost. If we commit to something like this we’re going to need to be saving for some time.” y/n chuckled and said, “Take all the time you need darling. We can save money for that and a wedding too.” Emily paused and said, “Do you mind if I don’t tell the team right away about the engagement? I just want to get a ring and have it be a bit more put together because once I tell them, we’re going to be swamped with questions from JJ, Garcia, and Rossi.” y/n snorted and covered her mouth at how accurate Emily was. She could picture that conversation happening and how Garica would pounce on Em and then how she’d get ten calls for Penelope and then some texts and another call from Dave congratulating her. Since y/n had gotten to know the team more, Rossi had become a father figure which made her heart warm. y/n replied, “Yes, of course sweetheart. That will be a day to remember. Almost as exciting as getting to say yes to you Mrs. Prentiss.” 

Shortly after this their waiter came back and got them a second round of drinks and they ordered some plates to share. The weekend flew by as always, and Emily showed up at Quantico with an excited air about her. The team slowly rolled into the bullpen on work days like they normally did. Em and JJ passed through security at the same time, and JJ who was now very pregnant asked Prentiss, “You seem preoccupied today. Is something up?” Emily tried to stay cool and said, “Nope, well apart from the fact that y/n and I had a late night last night.” Em gave JJ a wink and JJ shot her a sly smile replying, “Well that would make you pretty tired I suppose.” Emily laughed and the two women moved up to their floor. Prentiss hadn’t been lying about y/n and her last night. They’d spent a few pleasurable hours both in the shower and the bed solidifying their bond. Telling one truth and omitting two others felt better than a flat-out lie. Emily was a mix of emotions today and it did make her feel and perhaps look different which she was trying to hide. She was incredibly happy about the unofficial engagement but nervous about y/n’s question. It was more than a question, it was a whole new part of their life if they pursued it. Emily spent a good deal of the morning telling Spencer and Penelope that nothing was wrong and that she was fine but tired. Even Aaron gave her a look saying that he knew something was up. But Hotch didn’t always have the time for gossip and he trusted and knew Em enough that if she was having a serious problem, she could come to him anytime night or day. By lunch time, Prentiss felt a little bit more emotionally drained than she had coming into work. She hardly noticed Derek sneak in behind her to use the microwave when her leftover pasta was finished reheating. 

Morgan said over the hum of the microwave, “So you told Spence and Garcia everything is fine and you gave Hotch that look that it’s all cool and they left you alone, but you're one of the most put-together people on the team and something is off. Keeping secrets is a burden and I’d think you’d like at least one person to know what’s playing in your mind on repeat. Listen if we go on a case or something then it might make you slower. Would you please tell me what’s going on? I won’t tell anyone else. You know I’m also good at keeping a secret.” Derek’s appearance startled Emily, and she jumped at his first few words but calmed quickly as she listened more intently to what he was saying. She bit the inside of her lip. The problem was she knew Derek was right and somehow that bothered her. However, Morgan would be as good a person to tell as any. Their bond was strong, but not as interwoven as the rest of the team. And he was good at keeping quiet. Prentiss deflated slightly and decided to be honest with Derek saying, “Okay but this stays between us, please?” Morgan nodded his consent and indicated for Em to continue. Emily thought of the proposal but knew the issue that was bugging her was what she should say. Finally, she stated, with a slow caution, “y/n wants to have a baby with me.” 

That response was far from what Derek had been expecting, and he blinked a few times just to ensure he’d heard correctly. Slowly a smile crept to his face replying, “That’s amazing, Em!” Emily nodded lightly and Derek was confused as to why she wasn’t showing the same joy he was. He cleared his throat lightly and asked, “Do you not want that Emily?” Prentiss let out a long sigh and said what she’d been thinking about since last night: “I do think I want kids in time. And y/n and I have talked about that before now. We talked about it before we became serious.” Derek was confused by her hesitation and asked, “Is y/n like, rushing you into this?” Emily nodded no and replied, “No not at all. She knows me too well for that. She did a bunch of research beforehand and told me there wasn’t any rush. And also that if kids wasn’t something I was interested in she and I could talk about it.” This reply left Derek even more confused and he scratched the back of his head. Finally, Morgan asked, “So, why are you upset exactly?” Em came out with it and said, “What if I’m a bad mom? I can see y/n being the most loving and caring parent in the world, but my track history with my mother just doesn’t indicate that I’m going to be that competent a parent.” 

When Emily got to the point of contention, Derek couldn’t help but chuckle, and Prentiss lightly slapped his board arm and said, “Don’t laugh at me, Morgan.” Derek managed to stop his chuckling and say, “I’m mainly laughing at your wording, Em. I don’t think any parent would say they are ‘competent.’ And if you’re going to question me on that, ask Hotch if he thinks he’s a competent parent with Jack or JJ with her baby. I swear no one has it all figured out.” Emily was still hesitant and Derek continued, “Emily no matter what you decide it’s going to be the right thing. I know you and y/n won’t jump into anything, but if you ask me, I think you’ll make a fantastic parent.” Emily could tell that Morgan was no longer joking and she asked, “Why do you say that?” She was genuinely curious to hear how he would answer. Morgan leaned against the wall and replied, “Well you could just call it intuition, but the other sign to me is how in tune with yourself and y/n you are. You notice things about everyone, especially y/n. If you decide to have a kid together that will be the most loved child ever. You may not have it all figured out, but with how much you care about each other, I know you and y/n will figure out the rest. You’ll be a great Mom Em.” Emily felt her heart warm slightly and the original image of a child running around her and y/n’s apartment, or the park, or a variety of other idyllic scenes came back in a rush. She knew this wasn’t always going to be the reality, but she felt encouraged and replied to Morgan, “Thanks, Derek. I appreciate that. And thanks for letting me ramble.” Derek smiled again and was happy to see Emily happy. He said, “You got it Em. And my lips are sealed.” Emily felt much better the rest of the day having one person know what she was thinking about. It helped so much that after she had talked about it, she found it much easier to work. 

It was a few weeks later as Prentiss had found the right ring for y/n, and she and y/n had talked about breaking that set of news to the team that Emily came up behind y/n who was standing at the kitchen counter. Prentiss hugged y/n gently from behind and said softly in her ear, “y/n, I want to try. I want to try for a baby with you.” y/n froze and then turned around slowly in Emily’s arms and said, “Really?” Emily nodded and replied, “Really baby. I want some time before we go for it, but I want to be with you.” y/n felt her eyes well with tears of happiness. Her life had felt so empty and barren before she met Emily. Now life felt so full. She was getting married to the best woman ever, and they were planning a family. A lot was yet to come in their journey, but for now, everything was perfect. As the tears started rolling, y/n mouthed, “I love you so, so much Emily,” as she leaned in with her tear-stained face and kissed Em with all the love she could give. Emily wrapped her arms around y/n and kissed her back. Yes, time went quickly, but together they would make the most of every minute there was between them and the family they were planning.

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