#firecracker would be low the only question is how low

[imunbreakabledude]

last reblog... that poll blog reminds me of my scientific ranking of The Boys characters by how good they are at eating pussy. ... been so long i theoretically could update it with s4 and gen v characters

[wingedhallows]

never seen this before but kevyn'ssister!r x nat???i would love that dynamic

𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒

🖇₊˚ෆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 pre crash! nat scatorccio x kevyn's sister!reader 🖇₊˚ෆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 none 🖇₊˚ෆ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 i hope this kinda is what you imagined, i was feeling comfort for nat rn! hope u like it :)

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

The parking lot hums with life — students weaving between parked cars, parents shouting after their kids, the occasional teacher waving someone down — but it’s the yellowjacket jerseys that catch the eye. They move in clusters, bright and unmistakable, like bees swarming their hive.

Smoke curls from the cigarette tucked between your lips, rising into the dusky air like a signal — a quiet call for anyone still listening.

And someone does.

Your gaze snags on her — your little brother’s best friend. Natalie Scatorccio. Though she’d probably claw your eyes out if you called her that. Just “Nat.” Always Nat.

She’s sharp edges and loud silence, bleach-blonde hair mussed into a careless halo, dark eyeliner smudged like war paint. She looks like she stepped out of a Guns N’ Roses poster and landed straight into varsity drama.

You tilt your head, exhaling smoke as you watch her cut through the chaos, trailing behind her team.

“Nat.”

It isn’t loud, but it’s enough. Your voice threads through the noise, aimed just for her.

Her eyes — green, unreadable — flick to yours. You’re not sure if it’s surprise you catch there, or irritation. Probably both.

She makes her way over, slow, deliberate. You stay right where you are, perched on the hood of your car, fingers curled loosely around your cigarette like you’ve got all the time in the world.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks, her tone prickly and closed-off, like she’s already preparing for a fight.

But it doesn’t rattle you. Nat’s always been a little firecracker.

“Kevyn sent me.” Your voice is low, just for her. You take another drag before adding, “Asked me to drive you home.”

It takes her a second to respond. Nat crosses her arms over her chest like a defiant child, chin tilted upward in that stubborn way of hers — but all it does is tug a quiet smirk onto your lips.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she mutters, scowling. The frown creases her features, but instead of making her look intimidating, it only softens her into something almost... endearing.

“Shut up and get in the car.”

There’s amusement in your voice, laced with something gentler — something like fondness.

You’ve always had a platonic thing going with Nat, this banter, this push-and-pull. But lately — especially after that night, the one where her father had your brother pinned against the wall, fingers tight around his neck — something inside you shifted.

Protective instincts you didn’t even know you had rose like a tide, and now, Nat’s become one of those people you keep an eye on. Whether she likes it or not.

She scoffs, rolls her eyes like she’s got a whole monologue prepared in her head, but instead of delivering it, she yanks open the passenger side door and climbs in with a huff.

Your smirk lingers as you flick the cigarette to the ground, grind it beneath your boot, and slide into the driver’s seat.

The engine hums to life, smooth and familiar, and you ease the car out of the parking lot.

“How was the—”

“He didn’t send you,” Nat cuts in, her voice flat. A statement, not a question.

You don’t answer right away. There’s no point in pretending.

“No, he didn’t.”

Your voice drops, quieter now, the kind of quiet meant only for her.

Nat shifts beside you, just enough for you to catch the way her brow pulls tight, like she’s trying to understand something that doesn’t make sense — like the idea that someone might go out of their way for her just... because.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You glance at her, one hand still steady on the wheel, and she looks almost small in the passenger seat. Angry, confused, vulnerable in a way she rarely allows herself to be.

“I want to.”

That shuts her up.

You don’t even have to look at her to know she’s frozen — caught off guard in the thick silence that settles between you.

You swear you hear the slightest hitch in her breath, so soft it nearly gets lost beneath the low hum of the tires on pavement.

“Thank you.”

It’s barely above a whisper — softer than you’ve ever heard her, like the words cost her something just to say. But they’re there, trembling at the edges, threaded with vulnerability she doesn’t often let anyone see.

You don’t look at her. Don’t need to.

Instead, you lift your hand from the gear shift, steady and casual, and hold it out — palm up, fingers slightly curled, your eyes fixed on the road ahead like this is the most natural thing in the world.

For a heartbeat, nothing happens.

Then, slowly, her hand finds yours.

Her fingers slip between yours, a little tentative at first, but they stay.

“Always,” you say, quiet but sure.

And in the silence that follows, warm and wordless, you keep driving — her hand in yours, the hum of the engine steady beneath it all.

[crispy-art-on-fire]

If Bumblebee would had kept his mouth shut after Sentinel sent Bulkhead to repair space bridges. How would the story have continued? And would Shockwave even let him ascend to become Bumble Prime? Or Would he have made sure Bumblebee stayed in a certain position in the Elite Guard?

Ok in reality he would've probably just made it just a short while before requesting to go with Bulkhead because in Illogical Impulses they are close BUT if we take it that he doesn't-

Shockwave is still not conscious of the fact he cares about Bumblebee but he is very much acting on those feelings. He'd probably try to convince Bumblebee that he should join him in the intelligence department instead of the Elite Guard. Because Bumblebee would be much worse at intelligence gathering and so it would be better for the Decepticon cause- (he doesn't want Bumblebee to be out in the field and get hurt). As the only person on Cybertron that Bumblebee has left he'd probably agree to do it.

But oh Bumblebee would hateeee it. Blurr is cool but Cliffjumper is a firecracker ready to go off at any moment while the others just think of him as a nepobaby. Longarm isn't helping things by never assigning him any fieldwork so he can "get a feel on how things work around here" and then never telling him off if he decides to spend his time hanging around in the Prime's office. It's only after pleading and begging Longarm actually allows him on missions (low-stake, far away from Decepticon activity).

Shockwave would probably still chafe against his Decepticon loyalties but as he's actually like, allowed time to take into consideration what they'd do to Bumblebee and what an Decepticon victory would be like he... questions things. Is an imperial empire really the place he wants Bumblebee to live in? Would war bring the freedom they sought?

Bumblebee had frequent contact with Bulkhead after they separated and such is completely devastated when he and the rest of the team is deemed dead. It's the moment Shockwave realizes that no, Bumblebee would never be happy in a war. He wasn't raised to accept that everyone was expendable.

Shockwave doesn't defect out of grief here, he does it because his love has outweighed his loyalty.

When the repair team is found alive Bumblebee begs Longarm to let him go to Earth and see Bulkhead again. Longarm obliges because at this point he has no excuses anymore, same when Bumblebee asks to stay to fight the Decepticons. He knows that this gilded cage he kept Bumblebee in never made him happy and with this he can finally admit that seeing his son beam with joy is the future he wants. Bumblebee stays on Earth while he goes back to Cybertron to complete this mission.

TLDR: Shockwave is not depressed and has grown morals all on his own. Bumblebee has less repertoire with the repair team but is extremely excited to be there.

[joelalorian]

Under False Pretenses - Chapter Fifteen

Stepdad!Dave York x f!reader | wc: 6815 | masterlist

Summary: A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ mdni. Stepdad trope. Unspecified (small) age gap. Soft, sexy, and intense Dave. Nicknames and terms of endearment. Cursing. A teensy bit of angst. Lots of love. Unprotected p in v. We finally go to the adult store. Blow job while driving. Massage oil. Dave isn't your (fake) stepdad anymore and your forever starts today.

A/N: This is the final chapter, my friends! Only the epilogue left to go.

Series Masterlist

Winter gave way to spring as you settled into this new life with Dave and the girls. Sharp, echoing cries of laughing gulls woke you in the mornings, the sea breeze carrying the sound through the open windows along with the salty air. Evenings were spent at the dining table as a family, the girls working on assessments before they’d settled into their new school, and Dave reviewing some paperwork for the business he wanted to launch. Ranger lay sprawled at your feet, watching over his family contentedly.

Unsurprisingly, the boys followed Dave to North Carolina, equally eager to go mainstream and leave the mercenary business behind. You couldn’t blame them. Dave possessed a sound business mind and had already become a great leader to them. The business would boom once the doors opened in another month or so.

You were so happy in this new, quiet life. Resnik told you just the other day that you practically glowed with happiness. Dave beamed with pride at the comment, knowing he had no small part in making you happy.

The night before the girls were due to start at their new school, a storm rolled in, sending frothy waves crashing ashore and the sky echoing with the rumbles of thunder. Despite the tempest, the sound of rain pattering the metal roof soothed you and Dave while you snuggled in bed.

The girls had long since fallen asleep. Ranger lay sprawled across the hallway in front of their closed bedroom doors, his tail occasionally thumping the floor as he dreamt. Now and again, a low rumbling growl would escape his snout when lightning flashed across the sky.

The bed faced east, and the French doors leading to the balcony were closed for once, keeping the rain out. Beneath the covers, you snuggled into Dave’s warm body, his arm around your shoulders. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek grounded you in a way that made you feel safe in the deepest parts of yourself.

Had you ever known such peace? You were almost certain Dave hadn’t.

“I love this,” you murmured, your fingers tracing illegible patterns over his bare stomach, the muscles quivering beneath your touch.

Dave hummed low in his throat, and his arm tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer. “The storm?” he questioned lazily.

You smiled against his skin. “No. All of this. Us.”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the sea beyond the glass, the rage of which he could only see in the bright flashes of lightning. The muscles of his abdomen shifted beneath your palm. “Yeah. Me too,” he replied quietly.

The wind howled louder, a sudden gust rattling the windows. Neither of you flinched, though it reminded you both of that day in the dockyard, where things could have turned out very differently.

“Feels like we’re inside the eye of a storm,” you said softly. “Everything outside is chaos, but here…”

Dave turned his head toward you, brushing his lips against your temple. “Here, it’s calm. Peaceful. Yeah, I feel it, too.”

You nodded, fingers drifting to his ribs, the rise and fall of them as he breathed, grounding you. A moment passed, then he asked, “What do you need, Firecracker?”

The question was unexpected, not in the words themselves but in how softly, how sincerely Dave asked them.

You lifted your head, eyes meeting his, the dark brown swirled with care, love. “Right now?”

“No,” he said gently, gaze never leaving yours. “In life. In this. Us.”

It was more than a question. It was a door he was cracking open, giving you permission to be brutally honest, to want.

You blinked slowly, your heart suddenly louder in your chest than the thunder outside. “I need laughter,” you whispered, surprising even yourself. You didn’t think that would be the first thing out of your mouth. “Stupid, contagious laughter. And quiet mornings. And love. Lots of love. Endless, incandescent love.”

Dave’s thumb stroked slow lines across your back. “What else?” He knew there was more. He could read you like the pages of his favorite book.

“I need to be a partner,” you added hesitantly. “Not just someone who fits into your life, but someone who builds that life with you.”

Dave didn’t hesitate. “You already are – you do.”

Your throat tightened, the vulnerability creeping up inside like heartburn.

“Tell me, my sweet Firecracker,” he encouraged. “What else do you need?”

The sudden edge of tears clouded your vision. How could you tell him that there really was something missing from this seemingly perfect life?

“Don’t hide from me.” Dave’s voice hinted at demanding, and you could tell he was becoming concerned at your hesitation.

“I need to feel like I contribute, Dave,” you finally admitted. “I haven’t had a job since I met you.”

“You don’t need a job to contribute, baby. You already do so much for us, and we have plenty of money. You don’t need to work.”

He didn’t get it. You needed a purpose. You were the only one without something to do, focus on. For some women, maybe the stay-at-home mom role would be enough, and you loved that for them. But not for you.

With a sigh, you pushed the thought away, not wanting to ruin the relaxing mood. You were too sleepy for an argument anyway.

“What about you? What do you need?”

He didn’t answer right away, brow furrowed as his eyes searched your face. When you merely smiled back at him, he rolled you gently onto your back and propped himself on his elbow to look at you. His face was soft in the dim light, eyes dark and steady, like he was trying to memorize every atom of your being.

“I need this,” Dave replied simply. “You. The girls. Ranger. This house. Waking up knowing you’re next to me.”

You smiled, eyes glistening, quickly forgetting about that one pesky need of yours not being fulfilled when he looked at you that way. “Oh, is that all?”

He dipped his head to brush a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m a simple man.” You laughed, and he grinned back at you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing.

“I’ve been thinking…” he started, voice low and thoughtful. “If I were to get you something. Something small. Important…”

You arched a brow. “Like?” you prompted.

Dave looked smugly casual. Too casual. “Something shiny. You might wear it on a certain finger.”

Your heart flipped, stealing your breath momentarily.

Dave leaned down and kissed you, long and slow, drawing a low mewl from you before he pulled back enough to murmur, “Purely hypothetical, of course.”

“Of course,” you chuckled, brushing your knuckles along his jaw. “Purely hypothetically speaking, I like simple. Not flashy. Something classic. Thoughtful.”

Dave’s gaze darkened, the corner of his mouth twitching into a lopsided smile. “Duly noted.”

The rain lashed harder against the windows, thunder cracking again, but all you could hear was the sound of his heartbeat when you settled back with your head on his chest once again. All you could feel was the promise hanging in the air between you, soft and certain.

The morning sun hung low over the dunes, casting a soft golden light across the beach grass as you and Dave pulled into the school parking lot. The girls were a mix of nerves and excitement in the backseat, chattering over new backpacks, lunchboxes, and the matching bracelets they insisted you help them make the night before.

“Alice, remember to smile,” you encouraged, brushing a stray curl from her forehead as she fidgeted in her seat. “And Molly, don’t forget your homework folder.”

You were slipping right into this mom role, weren’t you?

“I won’t,” Molly said with an exaggerated sigh, clutching her folder like it was a lifeline.

Dave leaned across you to open the passenger door, reaching back to tousle their dark, fine hair. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, fireflies.”

He slipped from the car after you did and joined you to walk them to the entrance, the breeze carrying a hint of salty warmth as it tugged at your light jacket. The girls hugged your waist tightly, then wrapped their arms around Dave, who crouched down and murmured something in their ears that made them giggle. You watched the easy way he kissed their foreheads, the way they glowed under his attention, and felt the sharp sting of emotion in your throat.

You leaned against Dave, his arm wrapping around your body to pull you close as you watched the girls disappear into the building. He let out a breath, shoving his free hand into his jacket pocket. “I swear, I’m more nervous than they are.”

Head dropping against his broad shoulder, you huffed. “You’re not alone in that. They’ll be fine, though. They are the sweetest kids.”

Dave’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he dropped a kiss on your head before leading you back to the car. He held your hand during the ride back to the house, but his eyes were distant, his mind busy calculating, planning.

Once home, you poured coffee while Dave leaned against the kitchen counter, scanning the notes and sketches he’d spread across the breakfast bar the night before.

“You sure you want to do this so fast?” you asked quietly, handing him a mug full of coffee just the way he liked it. “Like you said last night, we have money. You could ease into this.”

“I need to,” Dave replied, his fingers tightening around the ceramic. “I’ve got Kovac, Resnik, and Ari coming in at noon. They’re in on this and relying on me to get it up and running as soon as possible. We’re setting up shop here, or nearby enough. It’s… time.”

You watched him from across the kitchen, eyes drinking in how sexy he looked when focused, jaw set, and brow furrowed in concentration. There was no hesitation in him. No second-guessing. Dave York knew exactly what he wanted, and he went right for it.

You admired that, loved that about him.

Even when it left you feeling like you were standing at the edge of something you couldn’t quite name.

“I really think I should start looking for a job,” you blurted, drawing Dave’s attention back to you with a frown.

He moved toward you, the frown deepening. His large hands grasped yours, warm chocolate eyes meeting yours with concern. “Why won’t you just let me take care of you?”

“Dave…”

“I’m serious, Firecracker,” he replied adamantly. “We don’t need the money. I don’t want you stuck doing something you hate just to bring home a paycheck we don’t need. You already contribute so much in the ways that matter.”

He still didn’t get it, and you didn’t feel like arguing.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You sighed. “I just—”

The doorbell cut you off.

“That’ll be the guys. We’ll talk later, okay?” Dave kissed you, lingering at the taste of your lips, before going to let the guys in.

You slipped through the back door, Ranger’s leash in hand, before the guys made it fully inside. A walk on the beach with Ranger would clear your head, and you’d be out of the way so Dave could focus.

Dave couldn’t focus, though. Not when you were concerned.

The coastal wind whipped sand across the pavement as Dave closed the front door and turned to greet his team. Ari clapped him on the back as he passed. Kovac dropped a small gear bag near the couch. And Resnik, ever the observer, took a slow scan of the room like he was reading its emotional temperature, before his keen eyes met Dave’s with a knowing look.

“Place looks good,” Ari said, breaking the silence while he peeked into the open kitchen.

“Yeah,” Kovac added, already pulling a folded blueprint from his pack. He was ready to get down to brass tacks. “Let’s talk layout for office space. I got two rental options with enough square footage for the server setup, but only one’s near fiber. You want speed or stealth?”

Dave scrubbed a hand over his jaw, dragging his mind from you back to the task at hand. “We’ll prioritize location. People have to find us before we can make money.”

“Good man,” Ari said with a short, sharp laugh. “See? Look at us. Upstanding, tax-paying citizens making smart business decisions.”

Dave sat down at the table with the boys but found himself staring past the documents, out the window, where the curve of the beach was visible past the dunes. He pictured you there with Ranger, wind in your hair, your thoughts miles away.

Resnik caught the drift in his attention before anyone else did. “You good?” he asked, no judgment in his voice, just quiet curiosity.

“Yeah,” Dave replied, but his tone lacked conviction.

Preoccupied with squabbling over measurements, Kovac and Ari didn’t notice the hushed exchange. Resnik leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, gaze fixed on Dave.

“I’m gonna throw something out there,” he said. “You can deck me later if I’m wrong.”

Dave finally looked up, the crease between his eyes deepening. “That’s comforting.”

The other man smirked in response. “You’re distracted, boss. Been watching you for ten minutes, and you haven’t engaged with half the numbers we laid out. You keep glancing at the beach like someone left the stove on out there.”

Dave didn’t respond. The only sign he even heard Resnik was the slow, deliberate tap of his fingertips against the edge of the table.

Resnik softened his tone, wanting to make his point stick with his hard-headed boss. “She just wants something of her own. You know that, right?”

Dave blinked, dark eyes narrowing. “She talked to you about this?” Resnik merely shook his head, and Dave let out a frustrated huff. “I told her she doesn’t need to work. I’ve got her and the girls well taken care of.”

“That’s not the point,” Resnik said evenly, ignoring the petulant tone of the other man. “She’s not looking for someone to carry her. She’s looking for a sense of purpose. How do you not see that?”

Resnik continued when no response came from Dave, gesturing at the plans spread across the table. “You get to have this, and she’s standing on the sidelines, waiting for you to notice that she’s not okay with being left behind.”

Dave’s heart sank. Clenching his jaw, he sighed. “She said she was.”

Resnik shrugged. “Did she really say that? Or did she say ‘okay’ because you missed the point, and she didn’t have the energy to make you see sense?”

Ari finally looked up, arching a brow in interest as he caught the tail end of the conversation. “Wait, what are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Dave muttered, feeling like an idiot.

Kovac laughed, turning to Ari. “Oh, it’s definitely something.”

Resnik leaned forward, voice low and sincere as he ignored the other men. “She’s not Carol – she’s not the kind of woman who wants to be kept, York. I think you’ve always known that – it’s why you call her Firecracker, right?”

How could he be so stupid?

He reverted to the kind of life he was used to with Carol instead of stopping to think about what you would want out of a life together. He should have known better – you were two entirely different women. You wanted to be fulfilled, not just needed, and he was robbing you of that.

Dave had to fix this. He would fix it.

“Tell you what, boss,” Ari chimed in after a while. “We’ve got things under control here. Go find your girl.”

He stared at the three men for several long moments, hesitating.

“I’ll pick the girls up from school,” Resnik said. “We’ll watch them here. Spend the afternoon with her, make things right.”

Dave considered the offer. “I think I prefer Ari to get the girls from school,” he finally replied with a smirk.

“Whatever,” Resnik huffed. “Don’t make us retract the offer, asshole.”

The sea was calmer than it had been all week. The storm from the night before was long gone. Signs of its passing were left in the form of shells and ribbons of seaweed tangled around driftwood scattered across the beach. You walked barefoot in the cool sand, the wind tugging at your sweater, the rhythmic hush of the waves offering a kind of clarity you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Still, each step you took away from the house felt heavier than the last.

You weren’t angry. Just… unsettled.

Life changed so fast. A whirlwind of feeling lost, finding love in the unlikeliest place, violence, rescue, healing, rebuilding. And now that everything was calm again, a question kept whispering inside your head. What now?

Dave had a purpose. The girls had school and the bright rhythms of childhood to ground them. Even Ranger was starting to find his place in the new world you’d built.

But you… You felt like a puzzle piece someone had set down and forgotten to fit back into the mosaic.

Even then, you couldn’t help but wonder: were you being selfish?

Isn’t this what you always wanted? Peace. Safety. Family. Love.

Dave was all of those things.

Still, something gnawed at you. The need to do, to contribute, to make or have something of your own. Not because you had to, but because you needed to.

You kicked at a broken shell with your toe, the sharp edge biting at the bare skin, and sighed.

Behind you, faint footsteps crunched the broken shells, slow and sure. You didn’t turn right away. You knew the cadence of Dave York’s gait like you knew your own mind. Ranger’s excited bark confirmed what you already knew, then he spoke.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel unfulfilled.”

Your throat tightened at the soft sorrow in his voice, yet you remained with your back to him.

“I know I did, even if I didn’t realize it at the time,” he added with a sigh. “You’ve stood by me through things most people would run from. And you’ve been through so much in the past year because of me. I thought… if I could just protect you from everything, even the pressure of having to figure out what comes next… maybe I could finally give you peace.”

You turned to him then, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“But that’s not what I want,” you said softly, earnestly. “I want peace with you, not because I gave up everything else.”

“I see that now,” Dave nodded, the wind teasing his dark hair. “Resnik reminded me that being needed and being loved aren’t the same thing. And you’ve never needed anyone to take care of you.”

He paused, feet shuffling against the cool sand.

“But I hope you choose me anyway. Not because I make your life easier, but because I make it better. Just as you do mine.”

His words broke something open inside you, something taut and aching and too long unspoken.

“I do choose you, Dave,” you whispered, stepping closer as your hands found his. “Every day in every way. But I still need to have my own identity in this life, too. I just… I don’t know what that is yet.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you like he’d finally figured out that you were the answer to all the unasked questions that haunted him.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he murmured against your hair. “Whatever you want to do, whatever lights you up inside, I’m behind you. Every damn step. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

The tears that fell next weren’t sad. They were quiet and hopeful, carved from love and the fierce ache of being seen. You didn’t know what you wanted outside of your relationship with Dave and the girls, but you knew he would help you figure it out, and that’s all that really mattered.

You crossed a hurdle, and a sense of relief washed over you.

Grasping your hand, Dave led the way back toward the house. “The guys are picking up the girls from school. We have the afternoon to ourselves.”

“Oh?” you questioned, surprised and a little amused at the thought of three tough men showing up at the school. “Whatever are we going to do with ourselves?”

Struck by sudden inspiration, Dave grinned. “I’m going to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

Dave shook his head. “You’ll see.”

You weren’t expecting the place he’d take you to be your shared bed in the empty house, but there was nowhere else you’d rather be. You made love and talked the afternoon away until the guys brought Alice and Molly home from school with bellies full of pizza and ice cream.

Two days after the beach conversation, the weather turned warmer, the sun casting golden light across the cottage. The girls made fast friends during their first few days of school and were off to a sleepover birthday party. Ranger was passed out on his bed after a long walk along the dunes. It was just you and Dave with no interruptions. No tension. No secrets.

You leaned on the kitchen island, sipping coffee and watching Dave load the dishwasher, his black t-shirt clinging to his shoulders in all the right ways.

Why was it so fucking sexy when he was simply being domestic?

“You know,” he said casually, not even turning around, yet you jumped like you were caught doing something naughty. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

You cleared your throat, raising a brow in question. “Well, that sounds dangerous.”

He shot you a look over his shoulder, smirking. “Remember months ago, back when we played one of your silly drinking games in the basement?” When you nodded, he continued. “You mentioned something that night that I haven’t forgotten.”

You blinked, replaying the game in your head. There were a lot of confessions shared that night. Some innocent. Some… less so.

And then it clicked.

“Oh no,” you said, setting your mug down. “Don’t even think about it.”

He grinned madly, like a man who’d just been handed the most fun challenge. “Come on, Firecracker. You said you’d never been to an adult store. I’d say it’s high time we fix that.”

“You’re serious,” you said, eyes narrowing before your shoulders slumped in resignation.

“As a heart attack,” he said, tossing the dishrag over his shoulder and coming to stand in front of you, still grinning. “You scared?”

“Of sex toys?” you scoffed, trying to ignore the flush of heat rising up your neck. “Hardly.”

“Then let’s go.”

“You’re insane.”

“Possibly,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “But admit it, you’re curious.”

You bit your bottom lip, fighting the grin threatening to give you away. “Maybe a little.”

“Then let’s have some fun, kitten.” He stepped back, holding out his hand. “No pressure. No buying required. Just exploring, together.”

Good god, how you loved this man. “Fine,” you said with a dramatic sigh, but you couldn’t maintain the farce for long, a playful grin stretching across your lips before you kissed him soundly.

He grabbed his keys with a booming laugh.

An hour later, Dave pulled into the parking lot of a discreet storefront. He led you through the tinted doorway without a word, letting you absorb it all.

The store was tastefully lit and surprisingly tidy. You hesitated just inside the entrance, blinking at the wall opposite, full of colorful… well, toys, arranged like an abstract art exhibit. It was sexy and beautiful and way less raunchy than you’d thought it’d be.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, gripping Dave’s hand tighter. “This is not what I expected.”

He leaned closer, curious. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” you replied with a bashful laugh. “Fluorescent lights and sketchy vibes. Rooms in the back for dudes to jerk off. Not this.” You gestured to a row of elegantly packaged products that wouldn’t look out of place on a spa shelf.

Dave chuckled, clearly enjoying your wide-eyed awe. It was awfully adorable and innocently sexy. “Modern times, baby. Plus, I wouldn’t take you to a trashy place for your first sex shop experience.”

You wandered the aisles together, giggling at the more outrageous items, sharing quiet glances over suggestive product names, and lingering for a long while in front of the massage oils. Dave noted the ones you lingered over, stealing one to place on the counter for purchase.

“Okay,” you whispered, eyeing a display of sleek toys. Your gaze was drawn to the vibrator wands and a few models meant to mount and grind on. The Grinder, in particular, piqued your interest. “Some of this is actually kind of… intriguing.”

Dave raised a brow, inching closer as his hands roamed the curves of your backside. “Want to try something?”

You turned to him, feeling warm from the inside out. “Maybe…” He smiled back at you, soft and certain, sliding his arm around your waist. He tracked your interest, discreetly grabbing items to purchase, placing them on the counter without you noticing.

By the time you walked out of the store, you were laughing again, cheeks flushed from the sheer audacity of the whole outing. Dave held the small, discrete bag of goodies he’d insisted on buying for research purposes, and you teased him on the way to the car.

Beneath the playfulness was something else – a spark of need after this simple, shared adventure. You wanted to make another memory – or two – for just you and him.

Dave barely pulled out of the parking lot before your hand, resting gently on his thigh a moment ago, wandered upwards to trace along the zipper of his jeans. His hips bucked involuntarily, and dark eyes shot to yours in pleased surprise.

“What are you up to, kitten?”

Feeling spontaneous and a little wild after that fun adventure – another first for you and Dave – you undid his fly, freeing his cock and watched as it hardened in your delicate grip.

“Don’t mind me,” you hummed before you leaned across the center console and your lips wrapped around the head, cheeks hollowing as you sucked on the velvet flesh.

“Fuck,” Dave groaned at the feel of your hot, wet mouth on him. “You’re gonna make me crash, kitten.”

Letting his cock go with an audible squelching pop, you grinned up at him. “Eyes on the road, soldier. I’m trying to concentrate here.” Your tongue licked the full length of him then, eliciting a guttural moan from deep in his chest as the SUV swerved slightly.

Dave glanced at the rear and side view mirrors frantically, making sure no cops were around to witness his erratic driving. You continued working him over, taking him as deep as you could, as he pulled onto the highway and set the cruise control. Eyes still on the road, he dropped one hand to tangle his fingers in your hair, directing the bobbing of your head with a strong grip.

You were purposefully messy, salivating over the taste of Dave’s cock in your mouth, and spittle dribbled down your chin and over his balls in the most enthralling way. Just like your pussy, your mouth was made for him, and you had him coming hard in a matter of minutes. He had to grip the steering wheel with both hands as he pulsed in your mouth, the strength of his orgasm nearly enough to send the SUV careening off the road.

Once every last drop was swallowed and his cock was thoroughly cleaned by your tongue, you tucked him away and sat up, grinning proudly as you swiped the back of your hand across your mouth.

Dave’s chest heaved, his hairline damp with sweat, and he glanced over at you in wonder. “You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” You shrugged innocently. “You were made to suck my cock, Firecracker. I love that fucking sexy mouth of yours.”

You preened under his praise. “Just call me cock goblin with how much I love giving you blow jobs.” The words fell from your lips so effortlessly, you didn’t realize what you said until Dave called you out on it.

“Cock goblin?”

Shit! That is not at all what you meant to say.

Mortified, you slapped a hand against the dashboard. “I meant cock gobbler! I swear!”

“Yeah, okay, my little cock goblin.”

You both descended into raucous laughter for the remainder of the ride home.

When you got back, the house was quiet. Ranger greeted you at the door with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail wagging. The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in lavender and gold, the last light spilling through the cottage windows to create soft mood lighting.

You kicked off your shoes by the door, pulse still buzzing from the laughter you hadn’t quite come down from. Dave followed behind you, that damn bag still in his hand and a smirk tugging at his enchanting lips.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, setting the bag on the counter. “I could make us something to eat.”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I’m good. Thank you… for today.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it?” he questioned, moving closer. “And now we have some new stuff to try out.”

“That we do.” Your tongue danced along your bottom lip, and Dave’s eye darkened. His hand slid up your back, fingers threading through your hair as he kissed your temple.

“Come on, then,” he whispered huskily, grasping the little bag once again. “Let’s take this upstairs if you aren’t interested in eating first.”

The bedroom was dim, the only light the low amber glow of the bedside lamp, a dash of moonlight, and the single candle Dave lit on the nightstand. You sat cross-legged on the bed in nothing but one of his button-down shirts you stole from the closet, and Dave gazed at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world while he slipped the last of his clothes off his body.

He crawled into bed beside you, his bare thigh brushing yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. He just looked at you, like he was drinking in the view.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t mean for the words to escape.

You leaned in and kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or hungry like earlier, but slow and deep and aching. He kissed you back with the same reverence, one hand cupping your jaw, the other resting on your thick thigh, his fingers digging into the flesh as your tongues danced. There was no urgency. Just warmth. Just presence. Intimacy. Love.

“You make me feel so safe,” you whispered against his lips, “and loved.”

Dave’s eyes flickered, full of something heavy and unspoken. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

You kissed again, and again, each one longer, deeper, until the kiss segued into touch, your fingers exploring, discovering, remembering, memorizing. His hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt, searing your body in slow, heated movements like it was the first time he was touching you.

His lips roamed the side of your neck to the round of your shoulder and down the bend of your elbow. No one had ever kissed along your arm like that – it was a place so easily overlooked but so deeply intimate, and you knew he’d memorize your reaction to such deliberate affection like scripture.

With the same reverence, Dave explored the rest of your body with his lips and tongue, lingering in those spots that made you moan and sigh. The air warmed when he slithered down the bed and maneuvered your legs over his shoulders, fingers pressing into the thick flesh of your thighs as he dove in to taste the very essence of you.

Pleasure built and built as his tongue laved at your core, your fingers threading into his hair and tugging as your back arched against the bed. Just when you thought the bubble might burst, Dave pulled back and reached for the little bag of goodies on the nightstand.

You whined, distraught.

“Patience, kitten,” he tsked, large hands prying open a small bottle and drizzling the liquid along the skin of your abdomen and chest. Dave dipped his head back down to taste you as his hands massaged your belly. The oil heated under his touch, warming your skin to a delightful burn.

Dave worked you into a frenzy, hands reaching further to massage your breasts and tweak your hardened nipples. When he sucked on your clit with a little nip, pinching hard at your nipples, you came with a stifled scream.

You were still riding the wave of ecstasy when he shifted, his hard cock slipping between your folds, further heightening the burning pleasure. Dave made love to you with a slow build, the rocking of his hips started slowly, picking up pace and intensity with each stroke until you were moaning into each other’s mouths and gasping for breath in equal measure.

“I love you,” Dave whispered after making you come again and again, his thrusts turning sloppy, staggering, as he neared his own explosive orgasm. He flooded you with his spend, warming you from the inside out.

“I love you,” you replied breathlessly when he collapsed against you, his weight a pleasant pressure along the length of your body.

“I’m gonna marry you,” Dave declared a while later, after you both came down from the euphoria.

“So you keep saying,” you teased sleepily. “You know you need to actually ask me sometime.”

“I’m planning on it.”

In the following weeks, you took to searching for jobs in your copious amounts of downtime – something that would offer you a sense of purpose more than a paycheck – but kept coming up empty.

The problem was that you just didn’t know what you wanted. Your degree and subsequent jump into the corporate world left you burnt out and jaded after eight years, and all you knew was that you wanted to avoid that feeling again.

You also didn’t want to commute to one of the bigger cities, which left you with limited options. Still, you searched and searched.

One late afternoon, the sun filtered through the windows, casting warm, honeyed light across the kitchen where you stood rinsing out the coffee pot. The girls were working on a puzzle in the living room, the television playing a movie in the background, and Ranger was snoozing on the couch, occasionally cracking an eye open to keep watch over them.

Dave was at the breakfast bar, laptop open, brows furrowed as he reviewed vendor estimates and security system specs. The sound of keys clicking was rhythmic, soothing, and familiar.

You leaned on the counter across from him, arms folded, eyes drinking in the sight of him being so focused. “Need anything?”

He glanced up, the look in his eyes shifting instantly from focused to warm, loving. “Yeah. Actually.”

You raised a brow. “Yeah?”

Dave stood, closing the laptop gently. He rounded the island and leaned back against it beside you, crossing his arms with a thoughtful look. “I’ve been thinking about something. You’ve been helping to get this business started more than you probably realize. You’ve been a sounding board, giving design suggestions, and helping with logistics. Hell, the business cards came out much better because of your input.”

You tilted your head, unsure where he was going with this. “I’m always happy to help, you know that.”

“I don’t just want your help, Firecracker. I want you in on this,” he insisted. “Officially.”

Your brows lifted in surprise. “You mean…?”

“I want you to be my partner,” he said, holding your gaze. “Co-owner. I want you at the table for every decision we make. I want this business to be something we build together. I know how hard you’ve been searching for something to devote your time and energy to and how frustrated you’re getting with not finding something meaningful.”

Your heart stuttered. Partners in all things. Could that work? Did you want that?

“Dave…”

“I’m not asking you to give up your dreams. If you decide down the road you want to do something completely different, I’ll back you every step. But if part of you is still figuring out what comes next, and you want a place to start, I’d be a fool not to offer you a real role here.”

You were silent for a moment, blinking hard as emotion welled in your chest.

“I thought you didn’t want me to have to work,” you said softly, your voice cracking just a little.

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured to work,” he clarified. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you with me. This isn’t about money. It’s about building something real, something solid. Something that’s ours.”

You stared at him, stunned by how deeply he now got it. That he didn’t just love you. He saw you. He appreciated you.

“And,” he added with a crooked grin, “I kind of want to show you off as the brains of the operation. You’re really good at this shit, whether you realize it or not.”

You laughed through the tears. “You just want me to make you look good.”

“I want you where you belong.” His tone softened, though the broad grin remained. “Beside me, always.”

You stepped forward, sliding your arms around his waist. “You sure about this?”

Dave kissed your forehead, then looked you dead in the eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” After a moment, he winked and added, “Well… maybe one thing.”

Your smile spread slowly, like sunlight cresting the horizon. “In that case,” you said, “you’ve got yourself a partner.”

He kissed you, long and hard, to seal the deal. When you broke apart to catch your breath, he held you for a moment longer, your cheek pressed against his chest, broad hand steady on the back of your head. The scent of him surrounded you, clean, crisp, uniquely his.

You stood there together, smiling softly at each other, when you suddenly recalled what he said. “Wait, what’s that one thing you might have been more sure of than wanting to bring me into the business?”

Dave’s smile split his face. ���I thought you’d never ask,” he teased before calling the girls over. The Yorks and Ranger surrounded you, all wide, dark eyes and joyous faces. He watched as the girls flung their arms around your waist, breathless and excited for what was about to happen. His heart swelled.

“What is going on?” you asked, completely confused.

He’d been thinking about it nonstop, wondering how and when to pop the question. He and the girls picked the ring out a month ago, and it has been burning a hole in his pocket ever since. Somehow, he just knew that this was the moment, the way to ask you. At home, surrounded by those you loved most.

Dave had a whole speech planned about how you changed his life the moment you set foot inside that house and blah, blah, blah. But none of it mattered when you looked up at him, arms still around his girls, your smile warm and questioning.

“Marry me?” he questioned simply, succinctly, as he slowly dropped to one knee on the hard floor. His voice, rough with emotion, and his eyes, full of nothing but you.

You blinked, caught completely off guard as he held up a classic white gold ring with a simple princess cut diamond. “What?”

Dave grinned, reaching up to brush his fingers against your cheek. “You heard me.”

Molly squealed, and Alice squeezed you harder. “It’s about time, Dad,” she declared haughtily.

You stared back at Dave, tears springing to your eyes, falling down your cheeks before you could even think of blinking them away.

“Say yes! Say yes!” The girls let go of you and started dancing around the kitchen with a chant. Ranger pranced behind them, nails clicking on the hard flooring.

You laughed through the tears, that feeling of being home overwhelming you. It was so much more than a place. It was this. It was them. It was him.

It was a state of being you never knew you always wanted.

“Yes. Yes, Dave York. I’ll marry you.”

“Oh, thank god,” Dave sighed, and you barely heard it as the girls screamed. They gave you long enough for him to slip the ring onto your finger and share a brief kiss before throwing themselves at both of you. Ranger barked, jumping up excitedly, his paws landing on Dave’s back.

And that is how your forever began.

Epilogue

tag list: @imdrinkingpedro @lillaydee @ppascalrain @yorksgirl @missladym1981 @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @inept-the-magnificent @wannab-urs @thundermartini @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @sunnytuliptime @vie-is-punk @lovely-vamp-princess

[mjonthetrack]

bell book IV

Prologue – Oakland, California Sixteen years ago

Summer in East Oakland had its own pulse. A rhythm made of basslines thumping from passing cars, the sizzle of meat on backyard grills, and the occasional pop of firecrackers—or something worse.

Jimmy Fatu was all sunlight and swagger, leaning against his sky-blue Impala with his arms folded over his chest, grinning like the world belonged to him. Maybe it did. Or maybe he just loved too hard to ever imagine it could take something from him.

“You done fixing that braid yet, babe?” he called across the yard, dark eyes on Monique like nobody else existed.

She shot him a playful glare as she twisted the last section of her curls into a thick, high puff, gold hoops dancing in the sunlight. “Boy, I’ll come down there and snatch your chain.”

Jimmy smirked, lifting the links off his chest with one hand, like an offering. “It’s all yours.”

That made her laugh — that warm, effortless sound Jimmy said made the whole block feel safer. They’d been inseparable since freshman year. Since she slapped a boy who tried to grab her and Jimmy stepped in, fists first and questions later.

But it was Jey, standing near the front porch with his hands in his pockets, who couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He looked just like his twin — tall, wide-shouldered, tattooed from neck to wrist — but where Jimmy moved like a spark, Jey stood like a shadow. Quieter. Still, unless provoked.

He didn’t speak much to Mo anymore. Not directly. She tried not to notice how often he looked at her. She really did. But some part of her always felt it — like heat on the back of her neck.

“You hoopin' today or nah?” Jimmy asked, tossing a basketball from one hand to the other.

Jey nodded, voice low. “Later.”

Monique’s eyes flicked to Jey, caught the tension in his jaw. He hadn’t smiled all afternoon. Not once. Maybe he knew. Maybe he’d always known — that she was with Jimmy, but some piece of her had belonged to him before either of them realized it.

“I’m going inside,” she said softly, brushing past them toward the front door. Her fingertips barely grazed Jey’s arm. Neither of them looked at each other when it happened.

Jimmy called after her, still smiling. “Grab me that red Gatorade from the fridge, babe?”

“I got it,” she replied without looking back.

She never got the chance.

Because a car rolled up too slow. The windows didn’t go down — they dropped. Three quick pops cracked through the air like snapped branches.

Monique hit the ground. Jey was already moving.

Jimmy didn’t get the chance.

Prologue (cont.)

The white of the hospital walls felt like it was swallowing her.

Monique sat in a plastic chair too small for the weight in her chest, her hands stained with blood that wasn’t hers. Jimmy’s blood. Her knees bounced. Her curls had come undone. She was still wearing the gold hoops he said he liked.

Down the hall, someone was sobbing. A woman. Jimmy’s aunt. Maybe his mother had been called by now. She didn’t know.

She couldn’t hear her name. Not when the officer asked. Not when the nurse asked if she wanted to lie down. Her ears only strained for one voice.

“Where is he?” she whispered. “Where’s Jimmy? I need to see him.”

But she already knew.

She had known from the moment his body hit the ground and Jey dove after it like he could catch time. Like he could lift his twin up and breathe life back into him with a scream so deep it cracked something loose in the sky.

Jey hadn’t spoken since they brought Jimmy in. Not even when she touched his arm. He had blood all over his hands and shirt. His eyes didn’t move. Not toward her. Not toward anything.

She tried again.

“Jey... please…”

He looked at her then. Just once.

And it shattered her.

Because he looked exactly like Jimmy.

But it wasn’t him.

And he never would be.

A week later – the funeral

The church was packed. Standing room only. Monique stood with the family, not because she felt strong enough to, but because Mrs. Fatu had insisted: "You were his girl, baby. You belong here."

But she didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere. Not anymore.

Jey hadn’t said a word to her.

He stood a few feet behind the casket, straight-backed, fists clenched behind him. A silent soldier next to his father and uncles. His long hair tied back. His eyes red but dry.

She had cried every day since Jimmy was taken. But not Jey.

Monique felt eyes on her as she stood, trembling, to speak. She barely got the words out. She remembered the way Jimmy laughed. The way he held her in the middle of Eastmont Mall like they were in their own world. The way he kissed her on the corner of 73rd like nobody could touch them.

But she couldn’t look at Jey when she said it. Couldn’t even glance his way.

It would break her again.

Months later – the unraveling

They tried.

God knows, they tried.

She’d meet him at the park where Jimmy used to shoot hoops. They’d sit on the bleachers in silence. He’d walk her home sometimes. Once, he held her when she broke down in the hallway of her apartment and sobbed into his chest.

But every time she looked up into that face… it was Jimmy she saw.

And every time Jey looked down at her, all he could feel was everything he hadn’t said. The way he’d loved her first. Quietly. From the shadows. The guilt of still loving her now, when she was broken open by the ghost of his twin.

Then one day, she didn’t meet him.

Didn’t answer the door.

Didn’t reply to the message he sent at midnight that just said: You okay?

And that was it.

No big fight. No final words.

Just space.

Silence.

Distance that stayed.

Until a patch of land in Mississippi and the woman who once saw him as a boy with a shadow on his soul found herself face to face with the man he’d become — in the same place she’d been trying to forget he ever existed.

Chapter One — “Almost”

They were seventeen when the bullet cracked their world open. One shot. That’s all it took to rip Jimmy from Monique’s arms and Jey’s life.

The funeral was overcast—gray skies, wet leaves, and the kind of grief that sticks to your ribs. Monique wore his letterman jacket over her black dress, numb and pale. Jey stood by the casket, jaw locked, fists clenched. His twin, his shadow, the louder half of his breath—gone. And Monique... she couldn’t even look at him without crumbling.

The months that followed were a blur of slamming doors and therapy sessions nobody wanted. Monique stopped answering texts. Stopped showing up to school. And when Jey saw her for the first time at a memorial scholarship dinner two years later, she flinched like seeing his face hurt. Maybe it did. He looked just like Jimmy.

What she never knew was—he’d been in love with her before his brother ever made her his.

It was Jimmy who’d asked her out freshman year. It was Jey who stayed quiet, who watched her smile and laughed with her from the sidelines, heart aching behind brotherly grins.

Age 20. They kissed. Finally. A party in San Leandro. Too much tequila and a slow song that dropped like memory in the bass. She’d been crying before he found her. He said something soft, something real, and she reached up and kissed him. Mouth to mouth, grief to grief. She pulled away shaking. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and left. He didn’t see her again for months.

Age 23. Oakland nights and her name on his phone. “You ever think about what we’d be if Jimmy—if that hadn’t happened?” He hadn’t expected honesty. He hadn’t expected her to cry. “I think about it all the time,” he said. She hung up.

Age 27. He came to her art gallery show. She hadn’t expected him. She was with someone else. A good man. Safe. Jey watched her from across the room and left before she could say his name.

Age 29. A wedding. Not theirs. She wore lavender and laughed with someone else. He was in a tailored suit, leaning against a column watching her. Later, drunk and desperate behind the building, she kissed him again. Hands on hips. Her breath a question. “We shouldn’t,” she said. “Then why are we?” She left him hard and angry, the taste of her still on his tongue.

Age 31. They fought in a hotel room in Los Angeles. “I can’t be with you, Jey,” she sobbed. “I see him when I look at you.” “I am him,” Jey bit out. “And I’m not. You knew him. But you don’t know me.” She slapped him. Then kissed him. They made it to the bed. But she cried after. And he held her. She left again.

Age 32. Justice had asked him to come to Mississippi. New land. New start. But even there, he couldn’t shake her ghost.

So he invited her. “Come see what I’m building,” he texted. He didn’t expect her to show.

But she did. In the sticky Mississippi heat, sundress clinging to her curves, box braids pulled high. Justice had nudged Zilla. “Who’s the brown skin girl Jey’s kissing on the porch?” Zilla grinned. “That’s Monique. They’ve been on and off for over a decade. There’s a lot of pain and history there.”

And there was. Still is.

Because no matter how far she runs… She always comes back. And Jey—he’s been in love with her since before she even knew.

🌒 Interlude – Book Two (Tiffany & Luis)

Scene: The Fatu Compound, early evening. Tiffany is on the porch, watching Catalina draw with chalk on the stone steps. Justice leans in the doorway with a mason jar of sweet tea.

“You seen Jey?” Tiffany asked, eyes scanning the yard.

Justice tilted her head toward the barn. “He’s out there somewhere. Monique too.”

Tiffany smirked. “Of course she is.”

They fell into an easy silence, the kind that only came when the children were calm and the Mississippi air wasn’t too heavy yet.

Catalina finished a sun in pastel pink and looked up, proud.

“That’s beautiful, baby,” Tiffany murmured, brushing a hand over her curls.

Justice glanced toward the barn again, eyes narrowing.

“You think she’ll stay this time?” she asked.

Tiffany didn’t answer right away. “She never stays.”

“Jey’s different when she’s here,” Justice said quietly.

Tiffany nodded. “Quieter. Or louder. Depends on how close she’s standing.”

A shape moved near the far tree line—Monique, arms folded, back against the fence post. A familiar form approached her from the shadows.

Jey.

They weren’t touching. Just talking. But even from a distance, it felt like something happening.

Tiffany squinted. “You ever see someone want somebody so bad it’s painful to watch?”

Justice sipped her tea. “Every time she flies in.”

They both watched as Monique turned away. Jey didn’t move. Just stood there with his hands in his pockets, jaw tight, watching her walk off like he’d seen the ending before.

Tiffany exhaled through her nose. “Girl, one day that man’s heart gonna give out. And I swear, it’s gonna have her name carved all through it.”

🪶 Interlude – Book Three (Jacob & Katara)

Scene: The Choctaw Cultural Center, late afternoon. Katara’s stall is half-shaded beneath a wide cypress. Beaded earrings glint in rows across a velvet-lined board. Monique stands nearby, a rolled canvas under her arm.

Katara held up a pair of earrings—white shell and lapis, glinting in the light.

“I cut the shell with my great-aunt’s tools. She used to say hands remember what blood doesn’t,” Katara said, threading the wire through with practiced ease.

Monique tilted her head. “That’s gorgeous work. I can never get that kind of detail with my hands.”

“You paint,” Katara said, smiling.

Monique nodded. “Mostly oils. I got a thing for mess.”

She unrolled the canvas between them. It was a portrait—soft lines, heavy color, thick emotion. A woman laughing, but the edges were blurred, unfinished. The face was strong-boned. Familiar.

Katara’s brows lifted. “She looks like you.”

Monique looked away. “She was supposed to be someone else.”

Katara didn’t press. Instead, she offered a small bead loom toward her.

“You ever try beading?”

Monique laughed, low and dry. “Too patient. I need big gestures. Mess. Emotion.”

Katara chuckled, not looking up. “Sometimes patience is where the grief goes.”

The silence between them stretched. In the distance, the low sound of Jacob’s voice carried on the wind. Laughter from the compound’s younger cousins echoed near the river.

Monique finally asked, “You ever make something just to keep from saying what you feel?”

Katara glanced at her. “All the time.”

Monique looked down at her hands. “I feel like every time I paint, I’m talking around the real thing.”

“Let me guess,” Katara said softly. “Tall. Broad shoulders. Hoodie up, head down. Looks like someone you lost?”

Monique didn’t say anything.

Katara nodded. “You don’t have to explain. But he watches you like he’s waiting for breath.”

That made Monique laugh, tight and bitter. “He’s always waiting.”

“You love him?”

Monique stared at the bead loom. “I loved his brother first.”

Katara didn’t flinch. Just kept beading.

“I don’t think he minds,” she said gently.

[gotnowhereelsetogo]

A thrill shot up his spine like a firecracker at the immediacy and the want of that answering hum against his tongue. That thrill crackled into a tingling fizz throughout Marcelo's body as Joshua's grip on his hair tightened. His mouth opened further with a pleased sigh through his nose, to properly invite the slide and curl of their tongues. It already felt like there was barely anything between them, yet also like there was still too much. Too much space, too much cloth... but, how far did Joshua even want to go? How far should they go this time? Would they have to wrangle expectations?

Those questions and more ebbed under the long trail of Joshua's hand down his back and thigh, to pull Marcelo closer by his bent knee. He was left only with the thoughts of removing his spurs so they could really tangle up in each other, and of what else they both might remove in the meantime. Marcelo pulled back slowly from the kiss, adding several more soft pecks and a lick over Joshua's lips before he gave himself just enough room to speak in a low murmur.

"I can take them off. The spurs." In the meantime, though, he pressed in close, embracing arm now reaching across Joshua's upper back. Close enough that Marcelo was sorely tempted to roll his hips - but enough dregs of his earlier worries remained to stop him from following through.

with Vasquez ( @gotnowhereelsetogo ) ▌from here.

Joshua had known there was nowhere he could be that he wouldn't want Marcelo by his side. When they were together, everything felt like more — a hand squeezing his arm, a back pressed against his, the prolonged quiet as a his friend's dark eyes met his green ones — and the hurt did, too — flaring tempers, the possibility of loss. And yet, to feel Marcelo's lips against his was like the inevitable culmination of all of it, a warmth that left even the memory of hesitance crumbling in its wake. Everything only enhanced Joshua's eagerness, whether it was that initial, slipped sound that intermingled with their kiss or the other man's arm wrapping around him to grab his shoulder, causing a sharp inhale as his pulse spiked. More wasn't enough ( perhaps it wasn't possible to get enough! ), but he would pull Marcelo closer until the two of them was all there was. Right now, he could think of little else.

However, warmth bloomed into heat as Marcelo's tongue brushed against Joshua's, garnering him a second, deeper moan. He could hear the beat between each of his breaths shorten with his deepening fervor while his heart thrummed rapidly inside his chest, though he was far too focused on curling his fingers tighter within the black curls under his palm to care. Pressing his tongue further, the taste he was rewarded with was so good and so thoroughly Marcelo that a moan rose in his own throat unbidden. Beneath Joshua, one of his heels dug into the grass for better purchase.

Then, his grip withdrawing from dark hair, he ran his hand firmly down Marcelo's back, and over the vaquero's hip and outer thigh until he grabbed the knee resting atop his leg. Although he hadn't lingered yet, he wanted to leave his touch everywhere he could, even if now for only for a moment. Remaining aware of the spurs that posed a bit of a risk ( was it possible to actively hate a pair of inanimate objects? if so, he did ), Joshua pulled Marcelo's knee as far over his leg as they would possibly allow him to.

It was as if the world had become like ink on parchment after it was hit by a raindrop, blurring until it was only them.

[thecameronchronicles]

Highs and Lows

TW: Uses of Marijuana. Language. Smut. Public sex. Degrading language. 

SUMMARY: Desperate for a high, Rafe offers you one of his own…

WORD COUNT: 1600

REQUESTED:

aintnodeppbutililiy asked:

hey could you do a rafe x pogue reader where they get high and fuck

Highs and Lows

He was absolutely the last person you wanted to see and yet he was the only one within a thirty mile radius that had what you wanted. As JJ and Kie had finished the last blunt you’d rolled, you groaned at their selfishness as you were left to make nice with the Kook prince just go get the high you came here to the Boneyard for to begin with. So with reluctance but desperation for the careless numbing that came with being under the influence of the sweet Mary Jane, you traveled across the sand and to his secluded corner he made for himself. 

“Can I bum a hit?” You questioned as he would nod, offering it without a second glance as he was too immersed in his own inclination to notice that of just who you were. But even if he had cared, his lust seemed to alternate from his reservation as his eyes kept to your lips as you took in the first inhale you’d thought of since the stresses of the day reminded you of this potential release. 

You would sit in silence for a second, taking one hit after another, before the effects began to take hold. You questioned just how strong the marijuana had been or if it had been laced with something as your eyes began to linger on Rafe longer than they should have for someone who was an unspoken natural enemy. But as much as you wanted to loathe him as you knew was proper and expected, you could only focus on those lips wrapping around the safe end of the blunt. Your mind conceptualised them on your neck an between your breasts, lower still and formatting to your sex as you rounded your hips against him. It was the only thing you wanted more than that high. 

“You wanna fuck me?” He choked on his recent inhale to the words, correcting his breath as he watched you climb to him. 

“It isn’t a marriage proposition, Cameron. God knows you couldn’t handle it. But-” 

“Yeah…” He answered almost ignorantly or even carelessly, despite the fact he was gluttonous for your offer. Just as you had analyzed him through your haze, he had done the same to you. The way your beauty was enough to make him ignore your rivalry, an excuse possible by the drug of choice you two shared. 

“It’s just sex…” You validated as he nodded. Even if for a moment you saw how he needed more. Not necessarily romance, but some form of commitment, he would look beyond this and agree still, as you straddled his lap. 

His hands were uncertain, however, not quite sure how to handle the firecracker at the edge of his fingertips. You were the encompassment of all of the pogues. As passionate as Kiara, as reckless as JJ, as book smart as Pope, and street smart as John B, and yet, you were the most forbidden to the likes of those belonging to the rival social class. But all either of you could think of was this moment beneath the stars and away from the eyes of your peers. 

His nervous hands were quick to correct themselves into lust as you were taken into a deep French kiss while his fingers wrapped in your hair and his second arm pulled you tightly against him to feel his impressive erection eager for your attention. He would only have to suffer for a moment before you began to grind against him, nursing his desire and endorsing it to the same degree, as he spoke against your lips. 

“I’m expecting you to make good on all your teasing, pogue-”

“Think you can keep up, Kook?” You teased the title back as he was quick to unbutton your shorts, a single hand slipping behind the jean fabric as he grinned at how wet you already were for him. As you added to his approval by the removal of your shirt, however, the pleasure he pulled from between your lower lips was now absent as he focused on your breasts, pulling them to his lips and kneading one while the other came to his mouth. 

“Mine-” He spoke as he twisted you beneath him and into the warm sand beneath you both. 

“Rafe-” You spoke to remind him that this was nothing more than a one time thing being high, but he was quick to counter you with his possessiveness you were foolish to forget for even a second. But the way he was tenderly aggressive, a contradiction shown in the grip of his hold but the passion of a kiss to your skin or even your mouth, still trying to speak against him, was enough to fall into him. 

 “Let me have it…” He groaned against your neck as you pulled your shorts completely off of your body, along with your swim bottoms, until you were completely naked for him. Even if there existed a chill in the air from the hour and whatever came from the ocean nearby, you were warmed by his wide hands expanding across your skin, never remaining in one place for too long, which worked to the benefit of your bare exposure. 

“Beg for it.” He spoke, lifting you by your hair until he teased your lips. “Beg for my cock, pogue…” He spoke the title as if it had been worse than any curse, as if it disgusted him, and yet, you obliged as you were desperate for that release he’d edged twice by his fingers and friction alone. 

“I don’t need to.” You corrected him, leading is cock to your sex. “You’re more desperate than I am-” But his grip worsened on your hair. 

“Yet YOU’RE the one dripping like a whore. My whore…yeah?”

“I’m never anything to you, Rafe.”

“No?” 

“Not a chance.” You spoke with a grin, no high would be high enough to promise yourself to Rafe. For that, he turned you to your stomach. 

“Then you’re nothing but a whore then. A dirty, desperate slut who needs a proper cock to straight her out-”

“Like you could.” You spat looking over your shoulder before he thrusted into you with an unkind insertion that was quickly followed by a second and then a third as your attempts to speak against him were silenced in continuation. 

“Nothing to say now? Cock’s too good, isn’t it?” You nodded, relinquishing your attitude for what it would take to feel that release he brought to your edge. But in any attempt you made to regain dominance, you would be forewarned by his strength overpowering you while he led a hand to your neck and applied just enough pressure to state this silently. 

“You’re gonna cry and shake for it…and then say thank you because I’m pitying you, bitch…”

“I’ll never-” He squeezed the grip around your neck even tighter. 

“YES. YOU. WILL.” His fingers to your clit pulled you even closer that edge as you trembled between his arms. As much as you wanted to deny him and claim he was horrible and uneducated in the ways of feminine pleasure, the truth was quite the opposite. His touch was fire to those who were ice prior to him. He did not fumble or falter for even a second beyond the initial uncertainty, and it was enough to drive your eyes into a roll and your orgasm to the edge of his fingertips. 

“You don’t get to come until I say…” He smacked your ass as you groaned. 

“How are you gonna explain not being able to sit for the next month when all your little pogues ask, hmm?” As you went to speak, he corrected you by a together grip around your throat. 

“You’re gonna tell ‘em Rafe Cameron fucked you…And say it honesty…loudly…just like how I’m gonna make you come…”

“Rafe-”

“NOW! Come right now or you don’t fucking get to!” He spat as your body unraveled within his touch. 

Everything worked in unison. His words. His fingers. The heat  of his body. The chill of the air. The thrill in knowing you could be seen and judged at any second. Not to mention the way he filled you in abundance. It was all too much. Enough to make you forget your station beneath him and his over you as he found his own release within you. But there would not exist a moment of sweetness as he pulled you to face him. 

“You tell anyone about this and I’ll fuck you in front of them, make you come twice as hard as you just did.” You narrowed your eyes as he contradicted himself in wanting everyone to know and wanting no one. When he saw this across your face, he pulled you to him once again. 

“And I know nobody else can make you come, but if you let anyone try, you’ll be sorry…pogue…” As you watched him redress and abandon you, your body pulled apart with guilt as you wrapped your clothes back around your wrecked physique. 

You had seeked a simple high and would be left in the depths of the most shallow lows, having allowed yourself to descend to the likes of Rafe Cameron, and now committed to him by threats alone. But more than this, you berated yourself for just how you enjoyed every depraved second of it…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @bethoconnor @belcalis9503

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Next chapter of Keep You Safe is set to go up in the next couple days! For now, a snippet for you 💕

“Wylan’s childhood home?”

“Yup.” Jesper popped the p.

“Hm.” He just nodded, the only indication of surprise in the quirk of his eyebrow. “Not a warm and loving one, I take it.”

Jesper didn’t say anything, but he knew his face must’ve said it all for him. Da huffed a breath that told him whatever message he was giving was received.

“I did figure that bit out. With the…” with the way Wylan acted as if you were about to strangle me, Jesper thought.

“The everything about him kind of gives it away right now, yeah. But, Wy’s not usually like this, he’s…” he couldn’t help the little smile tilting his lips “he’s got spine. He comes off shy, but he’s a real firecracker.”

They walked up the garden path, and Jesper swallowed the usual flare of anger at the mention of Jan Van Eck’s abuse, and how it dulled Wylan for all those years. Especially now, with his own father at his side, it was so unthinkable that a father could make their son feel like that, on purpose and out of hate. He had made him feel so unwanted for so long, and it kept coming back like a disease, even now that it was all over.

He could only hope against hope that Wylan would be alright here for the week.

“Jan Van Eck was hardly winning any Father of the Year awards.”

“That mercher that hired you?”

“And double crossed us. Wylan inherited everything through… it’s a long story.”

“We’ll have time.” Colm reassured, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

The actual house key at least, wasn’t twisted beyond recognition, and he swung the door open. The afternoon light at the back of the house meant the entry hall was cast in blue shadows that sank into the dark wood and dyed the white plasterwork the color of cornflowers. The checkered marble floor reflected the corridor’s sunlight up into the rafters of the vaulted roof. Golden detailing twinkled and the crystal of the chandelier cast tiny rainbow fractals into as many of the corners as it could reach.

It was beautiful. And every time Jesper came in here, it only felt foreboding. Haunted.

His da let out a low whistle. “Well, it’s not the way I’d have chosen for you, but you’ve certainly found your way in the world, little rabbit.”

Jesper couldn’t quite bring himself to smile until a familiar silhouette walked up the corridor. Wylan waved his little awkward wave, wiping something that looked like paint off of his wrist with a tea towel that his father had probably bought from the finest textile house in Shu Han. It warmed him from the inside out, like ginger beer, or whiskey. A sparkling, spicy heat just under his ribs that made the urge to cross the hall irresistible.

There was a wary, questioning shine to Wylan’s eyes, and Jesper did his best to answer it with the kiss he pressed to his lips.

“Fresh start, Sunshine.” He said when he pulled away.

Wylan grinned back at him, and Colm greeted him with a smile of his own, extending his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you properly, Wylan. I’m Colm.”

Wylan took his hand, and Jesper couldn’t help the giddy hope that perhaps, his two lives could finally become one.

[hosannan]

Occhiolism!!!!

(obscure feelings) meme— drabbles. Occhiolism: The awareness of the smallness of your perspective.

               "Princess." He starts.

               "Nanna, if you're so inclined."

               "Kid." He finishes.

               Nobles. The lot of 'em weaving a cursory set of rules only to have 'em strewn on the floor—he doesn't really get the way they mount themselves on titles and the low beat of a distant drum. Mighty fuckin' convenient if you asked him. (But he's a sellsword— a mercenary. He'll march to this bedlam if there's a long enough pocket-string attached.) But, sure. Yeah. Fine. If she's Nanna, she's Nanna. Linus thinks the lass needs a second stool; she's so petite, he wonders if girls like her were made in the same place Nino was.

               (You know.)

               "Mister Reed." She makes him swallow on his finish with the way her smile reaches her eyes.

               (Where they crushed common sage and lemon balm and made girls of the same ilk as the sun.)

               "Ah, that ain't even how my ol' man would want to go by! Come on, kid, you're killin' me here!" His mug meets the unpolished table with a banal thud, the weight of his words notwithstanding that gaze of olive and emerald. She has no business with him, no, but sticks around thinking he's got enough bedrock to be shaken. "I'm usually the one hitting rounds 'round here. Talky sort, and th' like. And sure, right. We may have been strung int'a the typical pickpocket bullshit that comes with the turf, but I hardly think that's conversation worthy."

               Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. When a fiddlin' thief tried to slip his hands into Linus' coat, it was a test to see which finger got the firecracker treatment first. Except. That time mercy came with a swift twist of a wrist, and a cinnamon girl lifting the stranger's whole arm skyward in the middle of a busy street.

               "Hey! Is someone missing a hand? I found it in another man's pocket." She ends the fiend before he begins, enacting a will that felt so radically different from Linus' own. Piece of shit went flying by the seat of his pants, away from prying eyes and the saltiest condemnation à la judge, jury, and fanged execution.

               While Linus had had the best laugh of the day back when, now was different. Now was not some extraordinary day, just a card from the same ol' mundane. What could a princess make of the mundane?

               "I don't see why you're so opposed, but if it displeases you, I'm off then."

               Was she even old enough to drink? He doesn't mean to, but halts her by the heels with a question that's been boggling him to hell and back.

               "Listen, kid. What's there to talk about? What are you going to get from it?"

               "Do I need to get something from it to get to know you?"

               "You're never gonna get me, even if you tried."

               "You make yourself out to be a myth." She bats.

               "And you, a sage." He bats back.

               She releases an airy scoff from her nose. "Hardly. I would love that worldliness, but all I have is what I know."

               "And what do you know?"

               "That it's men like you living from day to day that make our world wider. You cannot bear witness to the horizon if you cannot listen to the pulse of the people."

               A snort. "Ah, so that's it, is it? I'm a pulse? You're the hand from above, trying to feel for me?"

               "I was born of flesh and grew up by the coast—with not much to come by besides my makeshift family. Reformed bandits, struggling off the lands because of the tariffs of my forefathers." There's a fondness, a regret, a nostalgia tinging her voice like a spritz of sea salt. It's that look in her eyes that makes even a distant memory feel so close he could share it. He sifts through the same sort of memory, as Bern's common folk made even a mad dog honorable. "There's no reaching from above when I was already at sea level to begin with."

               "Huh."

               "Huh." She smiles, matching his beat.

               In the back of his mind, he hears the low beat of a distant drum. And wonders if, of all people, it's actually his.

               He raises a hand to the barkeep, with a toothy grin gradually growing in peculiar amusement. Fangs and all.

               "Can we get this girl a drink? I wanna hear what she's got t'say."

—End.

[waterstar2016]

This is for @tmnt-tychou Valentine’s Day prompt.

Immogene and Raphael

1. In which TMNT universe does your pairing exist?

Bayverse, but years later. The turtles are now a Spec Ops unit of the NYPD. They are in they early 40’s and late 30’s. Mutants are more common but tend to keep a very low profile.

2. Introduce us to your OTP.

Immogene (pronounced Imogen) or Gen Waters - She is 42 years old (in this universe), although her age varies depending on the RP or story I have her in. 5’11” and curvy (Ashley Graham is who I use for her body type). Long wavy curly red mahogany hair, tattoos that cover more than half of the left hand side of her body disguise the scarring she has. Her eyes are emerald green and she has fair skin. Within her genes is the blood of an ancient race, known as the Amazons.

Immogene is known for her wit and sometimes sharp tongue. Her skill with a bow and arrow is unparalleled. She is an artist and likes to work on her motorcycle. Kind and softhearted, though she guards her heart fiercely, Immogene has few that are close. Her personality is a mix of class and sass. Some nick names that she’s earned over the years (from various Raphael’s) are: Firecracker, Tiger, Princess (Raphael is the only one to call her that), Iron Butterfly and Candy Apple Vixen. She can be fierce when pushed or when needed. She’s not necessarily empathetic but she picks up on feelings easily. Immogene is often referred to as a badass, feisty and a sweetheart.

*Side Note - I have been often asked if I created an OC that would match Raphael. This question, rather than irritate me, makes me smile. Immogene is me, with very few differences. I choose to have her as an OC to keep my fantasies separate from my reality. In truth, when I first wrote my story, I was attracted to both Leo’s and Raph’s personalities. But, the more I played with them, the more I started leaning towards Raphael. I’ve RP’d with many ‘Raph’s’ over the years and I honestly feel the greatest connection with the Brute. So, rather than me ‘creating’ someone for him, he is actually…the perfect match for me (I’d like to add I support all ships). When this question pops up…I honestly take it as the highest compliment.

Raphael Hamato - He is 40 years old. 6’9, extremely muscular and large with it. His left arm is covered in a sleeve which depicts traditional Japanese imagery. Although he still has his famous temper, he’s learned to use it and fine tuned himself. Raphael is the rogue of the four. He occasionally takes missions with his brothers, but often seeks the ones that no one else wants to do. His brothers never know when he’ll show up for family dinners. He was the last of his brothers to take a mate.

3. How did they meet?

Oruko Saki in this universe is a billionaire tycoon. His alter ego (The Shredder), reigns in terror over the citizens of NYC. He is a collector of fine arts and priceless artifacts.

Seeing the art of Immogene Waters, he decided he had to have it…and the artist herself. Saki arranged to be an anonymous benefactor of her art to get her to NYC.

On the night of the attempted kidnapping Raphael happened to be in the neighbourhood and rescued her. At the time he had been impressed with the fight the woman had put up against the fiend. Although, she hadn’t left the scene unscathed.

Raphael made the decision to bring her back to the ‘lair’, which was now an entire apartment building complex where all the brothers lived. His decision had surprised everyone, including himself. There was something about those green eyes of hers.

Of course, the first time she saw him she startled, but reasoning took over and she realized this behemoth had rescued her.

Through happenstance and an unusual like for each others company, they got to know each other. Raphael discovered she somehow had a calming influence on him. All she had to do was walk into the room and his shoulders would visibly relax. She also had a tendency to challenge him with that tongue of hers. There was also the no end to his amusement with how she stood up to him.

Immogene found someone who accepted her. Who naturally understood her. His actions speaking louder than words. Underneath this brutish figure was a large heart. She, bit by bit softened towards him, letting him past the protection she had around her heart.

4. How is the relationship now?

Immogene and Raphael have an unbreakable bond. They banter together and get so much enjoyment out of it. She’s soft where he’s hard. They have similar dispositions but in ways that balance each other. Nothing soothes him like the way she says his name or when she caresses his jaw.

She’s never felt as safe as she does in his arms. A look from across the room between them speaks volumes. Raphael has always teetered on the edge of going one step too far. It’s what makes him so effective. Immogene keeps him on the side of good. With him, she has found her home. He his her home for a piece of her heart lives within his and vice versa for him. It’s the reason why I chose the image I did. Water and fire. When they meet it’s a blending of the two elements, unless it’s in the bedroom. Then the reaction more…explosive.

6. Do they get married or have any kids?

For the first part of the question, yes, they do eventually get married. It’s a private ceremony between the two of them. For the second part, I will say no, but will not reveal the reason why. There is the chance that this answer could come out in an RP I have, and I’m saving it for that.

7. What is your favorite thing about this pairing? Gush as much as you want!!!

Oh boy. Gushing. Here it comes. I love every single damn thing about this pairing. The way they fit together, the love they have for each other. How they crave each others touch. The way each says the others name. The passion they share. Good grief. *fans self*

The way they tease each other *grins*. They both get so much enjoyment out of it. In a way…it’s a subtle, or not so subtle (depending on who else is in the room), of flirting or even foreplay.

The both of them are unabashedly themselves, with each other they’ve found that one that gets and accepts them exactly the way they are. To this day, it still surprises Raphael that no matter what level of rage he’s in, a look, a touch or her even just softly saying his name can remove that red haze.

Raphael removed the shadows from her eyes. And the thing was, he did without really trying. He was being himself. It just happened to be everything she needed, Brute and all.

Raphael and Immogene. Two souls collided and did not become one, but a blend of the two. Although they are separate…it can be seen that they are intertwined so thoroughly, it would be impossible to untangle them.

[arc-misadventures]

Loving the Friends AU. Would love to see something where the teams sorta have to just have to accept their actions and have an awkward dinner with all eyes on Jaune and have to do their best not to trip over themselves and apologize.

Friends VIII

Team RWBY and What remains of JNR, sit at the dinner table, with a confused, Qrow and a lost Oscar. The air is tense as they all silently eat away at their individual bowls of noodles.

Qrow: …?

Qrow: Okay, I give up, what’s going on?

Ruby: Nothing.

Qrow: Oh don’t give me that! Something is going on, you’re all so moody; it could attract Grimm!

Yang: No it’s not! Right…?

Blake: I think it requires more than seven people to attract even a small beowulf.

Weiss: Average number of humans and/or Faunas required to attract Grimm, is at least around a hundred.

Yang: How do they get statistics like that?

Weiss: I don’t know, nor do I want to.

Qrow: You don’t, trust me… But, why is everyone down?!

Jaune: Myob. Myob, has got us down.

Qrow : Myob…? What the hell is, Myob?!

Jaune: Mind. You’re. Own. Business.

Yang: Snrk!

Everyone at the table turns to face, Yang with a look at disgust on their collective faces.

Yang: What?! It was good!

Weiss: No it wasn’t. It was the most ridiculous thing I… I… Okay! I admit, I did find it a little funny…

Ruby: It kinda was.

Blake: Better than, Yang’s puns at least.

Yang: Hey! My puns are awesome!

Nora: No, they’re not.

Oscar: I… I’ve only been here a few days… and they’re not that funny…

Yang: Hey!

Blake: To be fair; Jaune’s is better because it had good timing, and isn’t forced like yours.

Yang: What do you mean by forced?!

Weiss: You always say, eh, at the end of a joke. Posing it more as a question, than a joke. Asking us if we think they’re funny.

Nora: That and they are crigey.

Yang: What?! They are not!

Qrow: Sorry kid, but they are. You unfortunately inherited your mom’s sense of humour.

Yang: Ow…! Damn, Uncle Qrow! You had to play the mom card?!

Qrow: Sorry, Firecracker, but its true. But, what exactly is going on with you lot. You’re confusing the kid, as well as me!

Oscar: A-Are you sure this is something we should pry into.

Qrow: Yes, I don’t want this, thing… to cause you any problems in the future. Now out with it!

Ruby: Well… its rather… uhh… Help guys…?

Yang: Its personal…

Blake: I don’t think we should talk about it.

Weiss: I would have to agree so too. This isn’t a matter to discuss lightly.

Nora: I don’t want to talk about it…

Qrow: Why are all of you staring at, Arc…?

Ren: Its most definitively not, what you expect it to be; that I can assure you, Mr. Branwen.

Qrow: Oh, don’t tell me; You’ve all got a crush on, Arc?!

RWBYN: What?!

Yang: No, I don’t!

Blake: Jaune is most certainly not my type!

Ruby: I’ve never felt like that before, Jaune’s just a friend!

Weiss: I have never like Jaune in that manner before, nor will I!

Nora: Renny is the only man for me!

Ren: Uhh… Guys…?

The table looks toward a down cast, Knight, a bowl of cooling noodles rested before him, barely even touched. A deep sigh escaped his lips before he spoke, his voice hollow and low.

Jaune: You are sorely mistaken, Mr. Branwen… None of these people like me as a friend, let alone as… as that.

Qrow: Oh… so you’re sad because you’re not friends? That’s stupid.

Jaune: Maybe to you it is. But, were kids, kids who are right now being forced to fight in a war of life and death. Maybe worrying about stupid things are just a good coping mechanism for all of this. Least its better than drowning ourselves in a bottle.

Qrow: Oi, watch it kid…

Jaune: I am.

Qrow: Hey watch your…

Ruby: Stop! Please, just stop…

Jaune: Tell that to him…

Qrow: You’re getting on my nerves kid…

Jaune: Haa… Forget it… Just forget it… I’m heading to bed, we leave for Argus, early in the morning. Till then…

Ruby: B-But your dinner…?

Jaune: I’m not hungry…

Qrow: Okay, someone tell me what the hell is his…?! Ooph?!! Oww! Why the hell did you punch me?!

Yang: First, it was for comparing me to her! Then it was for messing things up for us with, Jaune! Asshole!

Weiss: Just give it up… We’ve lost, Jaune…

Ruby: N-No we didn’t!

Weiss: Didn’t you hear what we all said about the idea of dating, Jaune? We all basically just said we didn’t like him, almost on reflex!

Blake: We never were, Jaune’s friends, Ruby.

Qrow: Wait, you considered that whinny little brat your friend?!

The group all turn and give Qrow a death stare.

Qrow: What?!

Nora: Can I break his legs…?

Ren: Nora, you know that won’t make anything better.

Nora: It’s a start…

Ruby: C-Can we even start over again?

Ozpin: No… No, Miss Rose you cannot…

Ruby: …

Ruby: …fuck…

Qrow: Wow! Who told you to say that?! Yang?!

Yang: Nora…

Nora: Yeah…?

Yang: I’ll hold him down for you…

Nora: Yay…

[thesedangeroustemptations]

Baki Boy’s and a fearless/overly-outspoken s/o

Hi y’all! This is my very first headcanon and it’s something that just came to mind while insomnia decided sleep wasn’t allowed. Some are going to have a S/O who speaks out and acts the way they do due to past feelings of restriction and inability to do so, and some are just personality traits in general so a small TW is in order I suppose. I hope you all like it! 

Baki: 

At first, he had no idea how to deal with that. He was used to Kozue who would only ever speak on her feelings when pressed for them, so when he saw his S/O immediately snap back at Yujiro for his comments and general way of being unprompted, he felt a bit of fear for their safety but also a swelling of pride began to grow in his chest. 

He knew they were free spirited and spoke their mind from the beginning, what was apart of what drew Baki to them in the first place, but in the face of The Ogre? 

He was shocked to say the least and every alarm in his head was going off to get them out of there before they ended up dead, but Yujiro simply laughed, smirked at his son and gave him a dark warning.

“Don’t let them bark harder than you can bite, that might just be what puts them down.”

The longer that they spent together, the more accustomed to their general ease with saying whatever floated through their head at the time, and lack of care for the outcome of what was said/done. 

This has lead to more than a few occasions where Baki has had to pick them up and sprint away from the situation to keep from having to beat someone’s face into an unrecognizable pulp the second an advance was made in the direction of his S/O.

He comes to appreciate their honesty and finds it easier to be around them compared to other people due to the low probability of them hiding anything from him, and it being far easier for him to tell when something is wrong.

Will ask their opinions when making big decisions because he knows they have no fear going forward in life and will tell him their exact thought process regardless of whether it fits with what he’s wanting. To them, it’s what’s best not what is wanted if you’re asking their opinion.

Would support them saying whatever is on their mind/heart, but worries for their safety when he isn’t around to watch out for them.

Loves them for them regardless of if they lack the ability to keep their feelings to themselves while Baki himself is rather reserved.

Jack:

To say he was surprised to have this tiny (anything is compared to him-) individual he hadn’t seen before snap at him for hogging the bench press during his routine workout at his favored gym would be an understatement. 

The man was an absolute giant who towered over even the tallest of men and could easily break most in half, yet here this tiny firecracker was getting angry at him. An interesting development indeed.

From then on, he set out to make it his mission to get to know this unique person. For someone to get his eye off of getting stronger and defeating his father is an award all it’s own, but for him to actively chase them was an entirely different thing. 

Does eventually win them over through a mixture of gentlemanly behavior and healthy sarcasm, while proving he’s a trustworthy person to hold their heart and guard it.

Jack found himself growing protective over them when he witnessed them exchanging heated words followed by blows over a dispute in a bar he miraculously found himself at the same time as them.

He decided that moment he was going to make them his, and he was going to keep them safe forever, especially from Yujiro. 

Hundred percent would do his best to keep them separate, but Yujiro, being Yujiro, would find a way to make his son’s life harder and intervene, belittling him in some way around his S/O and that would be the end of it. 

Jack thought he had seen them go off before? Oh, no, no. Not when it came to someone they care about deeply. They started spewing every insult they could think of at the red-headed Hanma giant, feeling not an ounce of fear in their body- that’s because all of it entered Jack’s the moment they opened their mouth.

Used every bit of endurance he built up to grab them and run as far as he could in as quick a pace as possible to get them to safety. 

Knows there’s no way he can change them, and that he wouldn’t want to. Their outspokenness was what made him fall for them after all. 

Katsumi:

This man has a thing for outspoken S/O who takes charge, he may seem like an alpha male but he would instantly fold the moment his beloved gives him the look. Is not to afraid to admit this and chalks it up to his love and respect for their opinions. 

Instantly fell for them the moment they entered Shin Shin Kai in a full-blown fit, eyes raging, nostrils slightly flaring and sights set on a member of his class. Obviously they did something wrong, but when he approached to find out exactly what was going on as any teacher would, he was instantly shut down. 

“I’m not here for you, so if you don’t want your head bit off, I’d stay the fuck out of my way”

Needless to say, he was intrigued at this type of response from someone so much smaller than him, in his own father’s dojo, and after a few more prodding questions and standing in the way of what they wanted, he got the answers he was wanting as to what was going on. 

Being the relatively peaceful guy he was, Katsumi managed to calm down the situation while somehow getting a date out of the whole scenario.

 Everyone thought he was crazy for wanting to go out with someone as outspoken and rude like that, but he saw beyond that. He could see there was someone fearless and thoughtful under there, and he wanted to see what else was buried beneath the surface. 

Man, was it worth it. They didn’t fear anything it seemed, always willing to try new activities with Katsumi and his friends, be it new roller-coaster to cliff-jumping on their days off at the ocean, it didn’t matter. They were always up for it, the acts seemingly bringing them closer each time. 

He grew to love and respect them greatly, reminding them daily how much he admires their ability to speak their mind without fear and has no issue setting anyone straight regardless of who it is.

Would never admit it to their face or out loud but he really worries about them when he’s gone, knowing that not everyone can see the kind person they are inside and could easily take their words or actions the wrong way.

One of the few who actually trains his S/O in martial arts, even just the basics, to keep themselves safe when he isn’t around. 

Doyle: 

Oh boy. 

This idiot would be voted most likely to attempt to kill his S/O for opening their mouth about how he doesn’t seem as tough as everyone is making him out to be. 

Has the hardest time out of all of the men to adapt to having a S/O who speaks whatever comes in their mind and letting him know exactly what they think of his actions, good or bad. This is not something he is used to and not being able to just leave or kill the person saying it was something that was completely new to him. 

Would be the definition of opposites attract. Doyle is known for being more reserved, keeps things to himself and generally reminds others of a cat with his observant and quiet behavior. In comes his lover who is open about her thoughts and feelings regardless of who asks, will shout and loudly express themselves when upset or frustrated, and is basically a dog personified. 

Doyle catches himself watching their surroundings more cautiously when they go out due to not knowing exactly what is going to slip out of his lovers mouth, and being fully prepared to cut the tongue out of anyone who dared breath in their direction wrong.

Eventually he learns what will set off his S/O quicker and what is the best ways to calm them down when they are feeling like they need to be heard about a certain scenario. 

He’s a very observant man, and when spending nearly everyday with a person he cares for, he will swiftly find ways to make things easier for them without their noticing. He can’t have them thinking he cares too much. 

Around the other inmates or Yujiro Hanma is the only time Doyle feels any inclination of fear, prompting a fight, flight, or freeze response to which he typically chooses the middle option with his S/O in toe. 

He would rather be viewed as a coward for fleeing with what is his than lose it because they don’t have the ability to keep their damn mouth shut for someone looking at either of them wrong. 

Would enjoy having a S/O who expresses what they’re feeling, but would hope for one who had some sentiment of common sense so he didn’t have to constantly worry. 

Retsu: 

Probably handles them the best out of all of the boys to be honest. 

Is used to hotheaded and outspoken people himself already (*cough* Katsumi *cough*), while also having been one in his past, Retsu is the most suited to dealing with their outbursts and reckless actions due to a lack of fear. 

Likely met his S/O while in Japan for the Maximum Tournament and overheard them going off in the distance about something that was a passion of theirs that they felt had been disrespected. 

Retsu could relate given his overprotective nature in regards to his Chinese Kenpo, so when he saw them chest to chest, red-faced and still going at it while showing no signs of backing down, he knew he had to step in and defuse the situation before their beautiful/handsome face was ruined over an argument.

Has no problem with letting them rant and rave about things their passionate about or that bothered them throughout the day/week that they managed to hold in for Retsu’s sake.

Expresses his feeling the easiest out of the men except for possibly a tie with Baki, so makes it known that he worries for their safety and wants them to try their best to keep it together while they’re apart, being rewarded with whatever treat they would like followed by cuddles and a venting session. 

Comes up with different means for them to let out their frustrations with the world without having to blow up on everyone/everything that upsets them; i.e. gives them swearing coloring books to create art out of every swear word/insult they could think of.

Doesn’t want his S/O to keep things inside or to change, he just simply wants them to learn there is a time and a place for going off about things you’re passionate about, but when faced with the strongest being in the world? That is not the time, and even someone like Retsu, who believed that nothing could beat Chinese Kenpo, could recognize that.  

If things ever got heated out in public and his S/O began to argue with another person, don’t think for a second that Retsu wouldn’t break a man’s jaw for talking to his love with any kind of bass in their voice.

Loves and accepts his S/O for who they are, but is likely to help try and gently mother hen them into channeling that into a healthier outcome. 

[katsukisprincess-archive]

kinktober day one: dry humping with bakugou

a/n: AHHH IT’S HERE! this is my second year doing kinktober and i am so fucking incredibly excited for it. this was the month that brought me so many new friends and caused me to read SO many amazing fics and i can only imagine how well this year will go. i’m a wee bit nervous as it’s my first time writing in a long while and definitely my first time writing bakugou in months- let me know what you think! <3 

warnings: dry humping, dirty talk, spitting, hair pulling, choking

tags: @nobody0805​ @dabilove27 @bakugotrashpanda @tomurasprincess @fae-father @xeina @shigarakiisking @engel-hageshii @luxivii @bnhathirstreblogs @babayaga67 @tigerseye375 @kingtamakimurder @keopiis @iambashfulperson @buttressflybarnes @sunsetchan @thehalfdemonicangel @raekah @aupheliathedk @pozhdukem @rinsbigcock @jungkookcankickme @endeavorsimpstuff @irvingka @trafalgar-temptress @keilemlucent​ @imbearlythere @qtgothics @leeswritingworld @briswriting​ @lilacgrave​ @txmxkis​ 

Working alongside Bakugou Katsuki was… manageable. 

Most days, it was fine. You were an adult with your own life, your own career, even your own set of ear plugs for those days when the wall separating your offices was just not thick enough. You were both hired in at the same time, so unfortunately for you, you spent plenty of time alongside the blonde doing paperwork, training exercises, even first missions. While his quirk was strong, yours was just as. 

Since there was no difference of power in the slightest, there was plenty of competition. Small training gigs, time in the gym, even things like who was carrying the most debris after a wreck became extravagant deals that neither of you would ease up on. 

At first, everything about him annoyed you. You didn’t go to school with Bakugou, so you didn’t grow up with a tolerance to him unlike the redhead that visited the agency once in a while. Your first impression was disgust, and while that still stuck, you found yourself eerily fond of the attention. 

“Keep your eyes to yourself, firecracker.” You would tell him as you sauntered down the hallway, making a show of the simple task of walking into the conference room. He would grunt, still not taking his eyes off of you, until the name registered in his head. His yells and approaching footsteps were drowned out well enough as you shut the heavy wooden door and paid attention to the task in front of you. 

Press conferences were not your thing. Even worse, they weren’t Bakugou’s thing, meaning you stood huddled together in front of a microphone while the more extroverted members of your agency filled the reporters in on what was happening with the latest mission and things of the sort. Eyes on the crowd, straight face for the cameras. That was all that mattered. 

Bakugou normally stood on the opposite side of you, not making eye contact with you once. It was so straightforward that you wondered if he watched back on the tapes and counted to see who blinks more in the time span of the conversation. Just the thought made you snort.

“What’s so funny, huh?” 

The gruff voice behind you nearly made you jump out of your skin. You were so focused on the reporters setting up their cameras that you failed to notice the fact that Bakugou was right behind you. 

“Need to be so close?” You muttered over your shoulder, hoping he didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you momentarily spooked. When you cast your eyes to the right, near the podium, you were reminded of just how many heroes were working this last mission with you. Bakugou had no choice but to stand right behind you. Before you could complain further, the conference started.

You weren’t sure whether it was because of the man behind you or the blinding lights in front of you, but as soon as the voices rose, you found it hard to breathe. The lights were so warm, immediately washing over you like a tide and causing you to fight to keep your eyes open. The thoughts you were trying so hard to keep buried in your head, the ones that usually began with Bakugou so close to you like this, were reaching dangerous shallows with every hot breath down the back of your neck. 

“Do I make you nervous?” 

If you weren’t zoned out from the event, you wouldn’t have heard it. Gruff, low as ever, but still laced with enough interest to raise goosebumps to your skin. You froze, just for a moment, before shaking your head. You were lying.

He could tell.

One step in front of him had Bakugou’s entire body aligned with the back of yours. He was considerably taller than you, wider also, causing you to wonder what it would feel like if he put his large arms around you. From the crowd this didn’t look out of the ordinary at all- he was just standing behind you like he was thirty seconds prior. 

Prior, though, you weren’t feeling the way you were feeling now. Your breath staggered out of your mouth as you remembered your need for oxygen, and at your nervous movement, you felt Bakugou’s chest swell against the top of your shoulder blades. Whether this made him proud or nervous in return, you’d never know. 

The thought of pride racing through him had you feeling weak. With your mind flipping through the ridiculously thick stack of memories where you two would attempt to one-up each other, you knew you couldn’t let this moment slip you by either. If he was going to play, you weren’t going to sit on the sidelines. 

Thankful for the heels you were wearing, one push to your tiptoes gave you the perfect height to brush your ass up and against him. It just looked like you were adjusting your stance to the crowd, but it was so much worse to the blonde who sucked in his breath sharply in response. The fact that he was already hard, and so fucking massive against you, had your head spinning and knees weak. If you were questioning before how he felt, his racing heart against your back had the facts clear. 

Lowering yourself down onto your heels, you tried to move back to your original position in case anyone around you was catching on. You didn’t get far, though, as one large hand found its way to your hip and pulled you back to where he was needing you most. Ensuring he didn’t move too quickly just in case, Bakugou began rocking his body forward, little digs against your ass filling the time for the rest of the conference.

“My office.” 

***

The contents of Bakugou’s desk were on the floor before the door was even closed behind you. He looked good in a suit, you were finally able to see, but you had to admit that the straining bulge in his pants was your favorite part. 

With the door locked and your ears ringing, you didn’t have a chance to open your mouth before Bakugou was turning you around and shoving you so you were bent over his desk. 

The air in his office was much cooler than the heat of the lights, so when he pulled your dress above your ass and laid a sharp slap to your cheek, it rang through your body like ice. You were finally able to call out in pleasure now that you were alone, and the sound went straight to Bakugou’s cock. 

You didn’t dare lift your body off the desk, instead you laid there and listened to the sound of his belt unbuckling and his pants falling to the floor. When his body collided with yours again, his clothed cock lined up along your panties, which were thoroughly soaked from the antics in the conference room. His length stretched from your clit to the top of the line of your ass, and it was so hard you were convinced you would be able to cum just from the little humps he began doing against your center. 

“Feel how fucking hard you made me in there?” Bakugou growled in your ear, one hand tangling through your hair to get a grip as he yanked your head back and off of the desk. “Is that what you wanted? All you fucking do--” He paused to let out a grunt as he rolled his hips especially hard against you. “--Is try to be better than me.” 

“Maybe I am.” 

Your words, although breathy and higher pitched than normal, were enough to make him flip you over onto your back, slide your legs onto his shoulders, and push you down against the cold wood surface. His cock lined with your center again as his hand found home wrapped around your neck. “Like fucking hell, princess.” 

His boxers were stained by your wetness, and with every thrust forward his rock hard tip pulled against your clit. It was hot again, your breath mingling with his and sweat droplets forming on your bodies. He was moving so intensely, you were unable to peel your eyes away from where he was grinding down against you. When he was sick of not having eye contact, Bakugou growled, releasing your neck to grab at your cheeks with one hand and force you to look at him. Your mouth fell open into a pretty O, and he took the opportunity to spit into it.

“So damn wet.” He grunted, his cock twitching against you as he watched you attempt to swallow with your mouth still held open. “I should have fucked you into this desk a long fucking time ago.” 

“Then fuck me, please~” Your whines rang off the walls like a melody, everything he had been dreaming about as he would fist his cock under his desk. All it took was one look, one glance from you during the day and he was dreaming about tearing you apart with your hero costume. You wanted him to fuck you, moreso than you had ever wanted anyone, but your cunt deceived you as it tossed you into the heaviest orgasm you had experienced in years. 

The sight in front of Bakugou was art. Your mouth widening, drool dripping down your cheek; your hair was tangled from his pulling and your eyes were rolling back into your head as he felt your pussy convulse against his throbbing cock. He barely had time to hold on himself, but he waited until you were falling down from your cloud before dropping your legs and gripping your hair by your scalp, his other hand freeing his member so he could jack off onto your face. 

A mixture of pain from his grip and pleasure from your orgasm had tears running down your cheeks, but it soon decreased as his hold moved from your head to the edge of his desk. He was leaning over you completely at this point, your continuous whimpers, moans, and whined encouragement helping him to release his load all over your face, into your hair, against your tongue. You heard a loud snap, but you weren’t able to open your eyes and see what it was. 

When Bakugou crashed onto the desk next to you, you wondered silently if your head was ever going to come back down to earth. Everything you had experienced, even if it was all maybe less than an hour, had made for the start of what you hoped was a very interesting relationship. 

Finally peeling yourself off of the desk, you gasped when you turned around to see a large chunk of wood missing from the surface. Your bewildered eyes made contact with the blonde next to you, who held your gaze for a moment before letting out one loud bark of a laugh.

That laugh was enough to fuel you for days.  

[baku-bowl]

broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

------------------------------------------------

Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart. 

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?" 

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

Or

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

Or

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

[sweettodo]

Rolling ⟿ Hisoka x fem!reader

Includes : praising, smut, watersports, consumption of alcohol, use of molly, swearing.

Word count : 4,8k

A/N, I haven’t really written something like this, I’ve never taken molly but I did sorta look it up, I don’t condone using molly, nor do I condone drinking. This smut is for the sole purpose of a little fun night.

••

"And who might you be?"

••

The event was at it’s prime, everyone chatting, drinking, eating, I hated the idea of coming but disregarded those thoughts the second I got ahold of some alcohol.

"I'm y/n, you?" The dark yet beautifully illuminated ballroom created a sparkle from my red gown, etching out my body to my liking. The tall man who stood two feet away from me devours me with his devilish yellow eyes; his charismatic smirk which quickly lured me in for more.

"Hm, I'm Hisoka, but enough about me. You're so exciting to look at, I must admit." I smile and blush, looking down at the rest of my dress.

"Thank you, what brings you here?" I change the subject, standing in the main area of the ballroom, the bar a reach away, I needed it.

"Ahh, just work business, and you?" While he talks, I observe what he's wearing; a black on black suit, his multicolored hair which was more or less intriguing.

"The same, I'm here with my Co. Owner." I smile, a server comes from Hisoka's right, a plate with champagne, he stands in front of us, I graciously take one and Hisoka does the same, thanking the waiter. His eyes slightly widen as he sips from the glass.

"A lady a charge?" He's tilted against the column, we look at each other intently, I kinda liked his vibe.

"Yep, what can I say!" I giggle, he retorts with a light chuckle, his low eyes captivating me more and more.

While you observed the man in front of you, you weren’t the only one, Hisoka was excited. He undressed you with his eyes so sensually, he could have ravaged you right there. The way your hair paired perfectly with your dress, your makeup was to impress others, you didn’t do this for yourself. You wanted people to look at you, Hisoka picked up on your undertoned confidence and he knew that he liked you. You also had a bite to your personality, he liked the power you held.

‘How have I not met her sooner?’

"Do you plan on going straight back to the hotel room? Or another party?" Hisoka shakes his thoughts out of his head, watching the pretty lady raise an eyebrow in return.

‘Another party? Well.. was I not invited or something?’ I shrug.

"I'd head to another party; if I had known one existed." I roll my eyes, he stands straight and turns around quickly, placing the empty glass on the high table next to us.

"It was more of a word of mouth thing; I'd be happy to take you as my plus one? But the scene might be different as you’re used to..."

"Who did you come with tonight?" I ask, changing the subject from the party for a light minute, wanting to be nosy, what if he had come with a woman.

"Just a few friends, god knows where they are." He jokes, I laugh, my fingers rolling the neck of my glass, swirling and swallowing the last sip of alcohol. The hot feeling in my stomach from the drink making me feel more loose and relaxed, ‘I could go with him to a party, where’s the harm?’

"We should." I nod simply, he smiles and wastes no time taking my empty glass from my hand. Swiftly placing it on a servers tray as the kid walked by. He signals for me to follow him. Leading the way and I follow close behind, my hand gently holding up the fabric of my dress so I don't trip, 'he was so tall', and quiet, who the fuck was this guy I've never even seen him before?

"Is it off base if I say that you strike me as very mysterious?" I toss my hunch out there, he looks back at me when we reach valet.

"I'd like to see myself as more of the withdrawn type." He sticks out his hand, I grab it, it was soft, his fingers long and lanky. He led me a few steps ahead when a car pulls up, opening the passenger side door of a black matte Camero; with red interior. 'Nice pick y/n' I do a little jig of accomplishment and slight excitement before he hops in the sports car.

He pulls the car out of park speedily and drives out of the culdesac.

"What do you do for work, Hisoka?" I ask him, he glanced at me, a hand holding his chin while his elbow sits on the middle console.

"I dip into a little of everything, call me an opportunist." He simply answers. There was a big lie right there, I've been able to pick apart things being true or false since childhood; my tack record never really failing me, he didn't need to know that.

"I own an agency, if you were curious."

But he assumed this. He guessed it when he recalled your name during tonights convo, she owned an agency, more like a school for beginning nen users, she raked in millions a year. A firecracker, determined and strong willed woman she was.

"My, quite fascinating, you must be of some talent, yeah?" He asks, a little of a misogynist thing to ask but I quickly shake it off, Hisoka speeds down the highway and I look out the front window.

"I guess." I hum, I glance at his hands, they kinda made me excited- the size...

Minutes later we arrive at a gated neighborhood, he swings his car through the entrance of the gates and I become excited, finally I could really get fucked up.

"Aren't we a little too overdressed for a house party?" I chuckle, he pulls up the the front of the house.

"This isn't your average party babygirl, no one cares what you'll be wearing." Babygirl? A slight cringe at how loosely he used the word. I furrow my eyebrows, before being able to question him someone is swinging open my door along with the drivers side. It was elegant- he looked... so good.

"Not my average party hu-" my mouth falls open a little before I look at him. I knew these some of these people. It was packed. But Hisoka never stopped shuffling through the crowd, leading me down the few stairs and ignoring any welcomes that came his way.

We reach a basement door, he knocks twice before opening it and he lets me in. There were a bunch of couches, a TV, a bar, kitchen etcetera. Everyone looked like they were rolling, drunk maybe?

No. Not rolling on the floor literally. But rolling on some type of psychedelic, or shitfaced for sure. My heart falls in my throat, baffled.

"I don't get into this kinda thing." I nervously chuckle, stepping away from him, he frowns, lifting his hand to my shoulder, caressing it.

"You will soon." I smirks, grabbing my hand and leading me deeper into the foyer. I look around, it looked fun, I wanted to feel it but I would leave myself open to being taken advantage of.

"Drink?" Standing in front of the bar, he pours vodka into a glass, I smirk. ‘Who was this man?’ I liked him, I ignore my slight anxiousness.

"Mhh, gladly; thank you." I hum, taking it from him, right as I'm about to drink from the glass he stops me, covering the opening of the glass with his palm.

"You'll be very- what's the word? Hot, if you drink that by the way." Referencing to the drink, is that what he did for a living, reeled women in to sex them up on molly and champagne?

"You want to take care of me? Hot and bothered Mr. Morow?" I lean into him, his head slightly dipped down so he can hear me, in all honesty, I already was hot and bothered. His bloodlust licking all over my body and seeping into my pores, he smelled amazing, the tone of his voice got me stirring in my shoes.

I look up at him through my thick eyelashes and he bites down onto his lip in anticipation on what was to come.

"You wanna get me vulnerable?" I reach up and scissor the fold of his black blazer, stroking it slightly, "you wanna take advantage of me Hisoka? Coulda’ just told me what you wanted from the jump." There had to have been something in the air.

While on the other end of things, Hisoka’s breath was quickly sucked out in a bit of a shock. His heart thudding a little faster than usual; god he could tear you up.

“I’m stronger than you think I am Hisoka,” I giggle. I was, I was always on my A game.

“What kind of man would that make me y/n?” He smirks, pressing his cheek against mine and whispering, “if I wanted to take advantage of you, I would’ve torn you to pieces before we even got into my car.” I gulp and pull away from him slowly, mustering up the courage and taking a swig out of the cup and his eyes widen, I stop halfway down the drink and press him to drink the rest.

“Go on, drink it Hisoka, you wanted to get me fucked up.” I chuckle, he pushes the cup and pours his own.

“Drink all of it, you wont regret it.”

••

My head was spinning, the walls dipping in and out, swirling, my third eye was 100% open for sure. I sat on the ‘L’ shaped couch, Hisoka diagonal from me sitting comfortably on the corner, we didn’t really talk. Or maybe we were talking? I really was out of it. I didn’t pay attention to the other party goers, there were around 30 people down here.

While he looked over at the wall, I started deep into his soul. The more I looked at him the more I envisioned him on top of me in some dimly lit room.

“Hmm, y/n, if you keep looking at me like that who knows what I’ll end up doing to you.” My eyes quickly snap up to meet his own.

I was so empty headed I didn’t have the capability of feeling embarrassed.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Hisoka’s dick slighty twitched in his pants. He was already pussywhipped.

He needed you.

He looked at me seductively, eyes low. I bit on my bottom lip; a one night stand wouldn’t hurt. It’s been so long, although you were so intoxicated you had no idea how this would go, nonetheless feeling much more bold.

Hisoka was right, you were hot. Your body throbbing, everything was definitely more sensitive, tingling almost.

Hisoka was restless, he knew that he was going to make you his little plaything.

He couldn’t help it; standing, he taps on your shoulder and ushers you up, grabbing your elbow and slightly dragging you down the darkened hallway, it made you dizzy, your eyes spiraling and colors accentuated and it made you see new weird versions of colors, ‘is this real?’

He opens a door and flicks on the light, your eyes needing to adjust to the weird vibrating walls.

You weren’t able to talk much, everything sounded foreign when it left your lips, like a jumble of noises so you held back talking. He shuts the door quickly and walking back towards you, towering over your body. Your heals slip off your feet when Hisoka is pushing you onto the bed, your legs slightly falling open and you stare at him through your lashes, looking like a whore.

He leans over you, his knees pressed on either side of your own, pinning your wrists back above your head, you bite down onto your tongue. Leaning into you, he dives into your neck, bitting and gnawing at the bit. You breathe out a slight whimper; almost undetectable.

Senses heightened, you felt like you could taste him already. He nibbles and licks down the v line of your dress, he radiated a hot and intense vibe, you were stunned. You were also beyond horny.

Hisoka moves his knee up to your cunt, you gasp when he applies the littlest pressure. He pulls up and looks at you.

“I can feel your heartbeat on my knee.” He states, I blush and look away.

“That’s because I’m horny.” I admit, he smirks and uses one of his hands to tuck hair back.

“Are you now... what can we do about that?” He purrs, mouth pressed against your ear and you shivered. Tugging slightly against his grip, he releases you, your hands land on his chest, trailing down and unbuttoning the single button on his black blazer.

“No Hisoka, what are you going to do about that?” You send him a smug look and push him off you slightly, you felt confident so why not have a little more fun than usual.

“My my, are you insinuating you’re going to use me?”the undertone of sarcasm made you laugh, you push up onto your knees and he falls on his back.

“Mhm, I’m going to fuck you until all your kids are dumped into me.” Lifting up your dress slightly so you could straddle his waist, he stares at you with his tongue being pinched by his teeth.

You roll your hips as you tug apart the strings that kept your dress closed, watching him as you smirked, he picked up quickly what you were doing and bunched up your dress from your legs, slowly taking it off and over your body, throwing it to the side, he sits up; and since his legs still hung off the bad, this was easier for him to sit comfortably and as close to you as possible.

His hands tickle down your sides, ending up at your lower back as he pulls you into his grasp tightly, grinding against his dick in the process. You lean back slightly, pushing the blazer off of him and he shimmies it off, you start unbuttoning this shirt and his hands caress your butt, following your tailbone and gripping.

You push off his shirt and he was breathtaking. His toughly toned chest, hard as a rock. Abs galore, his shoulders broad and his biceps huge.

“Let me know when you’re done staring.” You roll your eyes and let him toss the shirt on the floor.

You were definitely disoriented, but aware enough to consent but you were 100% felt empty headed besides the fact you could smell colors. Neither was Hisoka, he looked at you while he sworn you were moving so much more slow, you weren’t; but he thought you were teasing him.

He moves his hands to explore your body, feeling your soft and warm skin. His hands knead your boobs, like it was something he’s never felt before.

You push yourself off of him, “stand up and get on the bed fully.” You demand, he stands, but before he can plop back down, you unclasp the button on his slacks, hesends you a smug glance, looking down at your small hands compared to his wide waist, he was going to absolutely fucking obliterate you and you had no idea.

“You won’t be in charge for long my love, but I suppose I’ll let you have your fun.” Hisoka whispers, you could’ve fallen apart right there, but you held it together for the sake of the challenge he bestowed upon you.

He tugs his slacks off and you watch him with puppy eyes, the air coming from his nose hitched, you didn’t even bother to look at how hard he was, while he stares down at you, your hand climbs the back of his neck, standing on your toes more to kiss him.

Once you guys find yourself deep in a messy make out session, he taps your ass so he can pick you up. You jump a little and wrap your legs around his hard waist, feeling so high up you didn’t even know if he was really this tall or if it could be being literally high off molly altered your state.

He drops down onto the bed, you gasp when his clothed dick slides across your clothed cunt, it sat against your stomach as you looked down and your eyes widen, looking at how... how fucking big he was.

He scooches back so his head upper body is against the headboard.

“You seem intimidated, are you scared I’ll break you?” The smug look on his face made you laugh.

“Nope.” You were lying right through your fucking teeth. You were terrified; his cock was fucking huge.

You roll circles against his throbbing cock as you both took turns sucking and biting on each others necks, he left strong hickies and bite marks all over your chest.

He was so close to coming which was extremely unlike him, he could last for so long and was pissed that the drugs were bringing him so close to the edge.

“I’m giving you a few more minutes before I’m taking control.” He hums, you allow him to take control prematurely.

“Take control of me now Hisoka.” You purr in his ear, he takes action, swiftly pushing you up and slipping your panties down your thighs and shoving you on your back so your head was on the pillows.

He rips your panties off, you kick them off your ankle and his hand trails up your abused chest, hand gripping your neck. You were seeing fucking stars, literally? You didn’t know you were so high; but you did notice the peak was slowly ending.

You stick your hand down and it falls into the waistband of his boxers, he grabs your wrist and throws it back at you. “Don’t touch me.” He snarled, knowing it sounded rude, this was only because he was so close to nutting that if she even do much as stroked him he’d bust.

He tugs at his boxers and while your swollen lips and sliding his tongue in your mouth, you feel his sly hand rubbing your thigh and opening it, his hand grabs the headboard and the other one is holding your thigh open widely.

“You gonna let me put it in?” You whisper a little sassy, he looks at you with mean- intense eyes.

“My love, you won’t be able to as much move when I’m done with you, keep the attitude to a minimum.” He growls, your leg wrapping around his back and as he pins your thigh down, Hisoka knowing you were about to attempt to slam your legs closed.

He slowly slides into your dripping pussy. All he could think about was being enveloped in your hot walls. Savoring the feeling, he had enough self control to slowly enter into you. Your eyebrows furrowing and your mouth falling open, you watch him slowly fill you up.

You couldn’t even think of words, or noises for that matter, your brain drowning in loud red colors and your eyes were only looking at him, you didn’t even know what the room around you looked like. You were spinning, your body felt like it was trembling and twitching. He gives a tiny thrust to finish filling you up and your legs jolt, attempting to squeeze shut when he hits your cervix. It hurt so bad, you wince and your eyes screw shut.

He on the other hand was captivated by your beautiful body and scent, he couldn’t wait to watch you fall apart and drip cum all over him.

Hisoka pulls back, the pain making things feel a little more real; you look into his eyes, his golden eyes, pupils dilated from the drug- as he swears he can feel every nerve in your twitching cunt. Lowly, he lets out a little chuckle before yanking your leg up further and he picks up the pace, it was so sensual. You never made love but if it was anything like this and you didn’t even know the man? This was a culture shock.

You glance up at his bicep, trailing up towards the headboard, his hand clenches tighter on the headboard, you see him begin to white-knuckle the wood and your eyes widen, glancing at him. Seconds later, he has your face twisting into immense pleasure when the pace picks up, he releases your thigh from his grasp and grabs your throat, leaning in and licking slowly down your jawline, the pounding of his cock into your pussy feeling euphoric, your head spun, lacking oxygen, still high, you can tell he had finished his peak, his thrusts becoming more stable.

The snapping of Hisoka’s hips, you were finally able to get the clogged up moans that begged to come out. Finally, when he heard your moan, he began sweating. His hair becoming a little slick, falling down to his shoulders.

“O-h my god.” You groan, your stomach tightening, you wrap your arm around his neck and his flexed arm hold him up neck to your head.

“You want me to fuck you harder pretty girl?” Hisoka grunts, you let out a whine, fingers intertwining into the hair at his scalp.

“Yes please.” You mewl; this is was his moment to really get down to business, he pushes off the rattling headboard. He swiftly gets off of you, but roughly shoving you by your shoulder onto your hands and knees, he rips your arms from underneath you, causing you to fall harshly into the bed; holding them tight while he reaches off the side of the bed and picks up his tie.

His dick sitting pretty between your ass cheeks- hard as a rock, he ties you up. You bite down on your bottom lip, almost sad you couldn’t rub your hands all over him and touch him.

“God, your pussy is so pretty.” He mumbles, pulling your cheeks opposite from each other so he can get the view of the pretty cunt he was about to tear up. He spits onto your already dripping pussy before quickly picking up where he left off, the difference being he didn’t hesitate to pound hard into your cervix. You let out a screech and attempt to move away but he grounds your hips and gives you strong thrusts, not holding back, Hisoka disregarding your little screams from the pain.

“Does that hurt? You’re so fucking tight; no wonder it hurts so bad.” He grits, angrily fucking me. You become more and more vocal, screaming into the mattress. You pleaded for him to untie you.

“Y-you’re fucking ruthless H-Hisoka,” you moan between thrusts, he chuckles.

Hisoka was so close to coming, it took him more willpower then he’d like to admit. He brings his hand up and slams it down onto your ass. The slap ringing through the room.

You let out a throaty groan, tears soaking the bedsheet from your eyes. You had gotten used to the pain, but he filled every crevice in your pussy, you could feel absolutely everything, from his veins to his cock twitching.

You’re so close to releasing, his name falling out of your mouth incoherently and swears following the screams. Hisoka groaned and held down your arch so he could drill into you. You screamed, for mercy? His dick nor himself cared how bad far he was reaching. He brings his hand down again into a hard slap, you cry out and moan. He loved it, encouraging him to go faster. “My god, princess, you enjoy me hurting you with my cock and my hand? What else can I do to you?” You whine and you feel your juices drip down your thigh, you can came and didn’t even know it. Hisoka pulls out and listens to you moan, groan and cry while your legs shake and smirks.

“Untie me please, Hisoka I need to touch you.” You whine, he rubs your ass.

“Hmm well, I could, but I won’t.” He yanks you up by the hair and hair hand runs down your throat, your throat was dry, makeup running down your flustered face. He could come just looking at your face. He never felt that way before, it had to be the heightened senses from the drugs.

He sits against the headboard once again and without untying you he pulls you by your thighs and slowly pushes you down onto his cock. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, hissing when he grabs you by the hips and shoved himself into you.

He stares at your pretty lace bra and disheveled face as he bounces you up and down, your mouth forming a perfect ‘o’, practically going cross eyes he was reaching so deep into you. “Y-you’re so big.” You whine, unable to look into his eyes because you could barely keep them open.

“You’re taking my cock so well.” His chest riding and falling, it wasn’t as fast as he liked but he knew he was filling you up as much as he could, fitting his cock into your pussy as he pleased.

He flexed his back, lifting you still and snapping his hips into you. You practically collapse, hair sticking to your forehead and drool coming from your mouth. You scream and your legs begin to quiver.

“A-Ah! I need to pee” You wail as you feel another orgasm wash over your body, he doesn’t slow down but he remains at the same speed, only making the orgasm stronger, he moves a hand and rubs your bud in a pressurized circular motion. A mixture of piss and cum gushes out of your beaten pussy and you have no control of your body, falling forward onto his shoulder and he catches you.

The sound of wet skin slapping against each other filled the room, not stopping you even whilst releasing. He was so thrilled seeing you squirt all over him. Smirking slyly.

“Do you want me to fill you with my seed pretty girl? Have my kids pour out of that tight little pussy?” He grits, moving you back down onto your back and pulling up your numb legs. He needed to come in you now. Drilling into you like no tomorrow. You begged for him to untie you again and again.

He didn’t listen, brutally fucking you. Fucking you so hard your walls clenched so hard he could barely reach as deep. He was so close, Hisoka panting as he begins feeling dizzy, his dick twitched before abruptly stopping, slowly thrusting after a moment, hitched breathing and sweat dripping into your crunched up stomach.

Coincidentally, the slow thrusts made you orgasm again, convulsing and your muscles twitching as you both chased one of the strongest climax you’ve each had. Sniffling and trying to stop the tears, your ass and pussy still twitching as he pulled out of you, he stared sensually at your cunt, watching his own seed spill out of you.

After a few moments, he stops himself from falling in love with your cunt that he just stretched out to fit his desire. He lifted you up by the tied arm and slipped his tie off your wrists, setting you free.

Before you’re able to do anything, he runs his fingers up your slit slowly and carefully, picking up both of your cum, he lifts his hand and grabs your jaw, you instantly open your mouth and stick your tongue out, he sticks his two fingers down your throat and you suck on them, swallowing some of his seed. “Good girl, I didn’t even have to tell you.”

You wipe under your eyes and he smirks.

“We could stay here for the night, or we can go back to my place?” He hums in question. You just drop your back onto the bed. Trying to compose yourself.

“Yeah.” You sigh, panting slightly, he hands you his shirt and you slip it on and button it up.

This was the first time you were now looking around to see where you were, the high slowly reaching an end. You wondered what time it was, hoping to find a clock. Hisoka looks at his phone, ‘1:30am’ it read. He and you had both taken the drug at 9.

He slips on his pants and opens the foreign closet, he didn’t know what to find but when he saw a black t shirt he took it and slipped it on, it fit. He snoops through the closet and tries to find pants for you. He sees a pair of basketball shorts and tosses them towards you, you catch them and try to move as little as possible.

He sees you struggle to put them on and smiles, biting his tongue to prevent him from saying something arrogant. He was so fucking tickled that he fucked your legs into becoming numb and paralyzed.

He steps over at you and crouches down, he grabs the waistband and slips them over your legs. He should’ve warned you his dick would hurt you so bad, but he was so high he didn’t even think to mention it. Hisoka takes your hand and gently leads you to your feet. You feel like your organs had been shifted and you felt empty and cold.

As you and him quietly make your way through the house, people still resides there and the music was as loud as when you first arrived, no one really paid you any mind; which surprised you because your hair was a rats nest and you looked homeless. Barefoot, you and him walk to his car, more like limped.

“I feel like I’ve been split in half.” You mumble as Hisoka helps you into the car, he chuckles. While shutting the door and quickly making his way to the drivers side, he slides in and instantly starts the car.

He begins to drive down the road and out of the gated neighborhood, he puts his hand on your trembling thigh, glancing over at your wrecked face.

“My love, just wait til’ you see what I have waiting for you when we get home.”

[merakiaes]

The One For Me - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: By @nuvoleincielo​

Prompts: #16, #30 and #63 from the fluff-list. 

Warnings/notes: This is my first time writing for Hotch and Criminal Minds in general so please be patient while I get used to these new characters, might be slight OOC😭 It’s also the first piece I’ve written in a few months now and I’m a bit rusty, so please let me know what you think. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Send in more requests for Hotch, Reid and Morgan and let me know if you want to be added to the Criminal Minds taglist! I hope you like it💕

Wordcount: 4118

Summary: Hotch has doubts about letting your relationship go further and you reassure him that he’s what you want. 

After being raised in one of New York’s worst, most crime ridden and low poverty neighborhoods by a family who was constantly targeted by the law enforcement, the last thing you’d expect was that you would become an active worker of said law enforcement.

Your mother died ten minutes after giving birth to you and your father had never been a part of the equation, most likely having ran the second he found out your mother had gotten pregnant. With no other immediate family, you ended up in the system, where you were stuck for the first seven years of your life.

You jumped back and forth between families of all kinds but for reasons unknown, no one wanted to keep you. It wasn’t until a couple adopted you two days before your eight birthday that you finally felt like you belonged.

They had many children of their own as well as more foster children, all between the ages of ten and twenty-five at the time of your adoption. On top of that, the children had children of their own and aunts, uncles, cousins and friends stayed with you more often than not as they struggled to hold on to homes of their own.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to live, a dozen people staying under the same roof of a two bedroom house, but you had dinner on the table every evening and the love for family was strong, so despite the conditions you lived in and the struggles you were forced to face on a daily basis, you guessed you couldn’t complain; you’d had it better than most.

The people who lived in those parts were always getting pinned for various kinds of crimes, just so the police could get it out of their hands and go on about their lives.

The male members of your family and the company they kept were some of the biggest targets even though they rarely did anything wrong, but despite the injustices they faced every day, they remained respectful when staring in the face of a cop.

You, on the other hand, despised them. You were an outspoken little girl, too feisty for your own good and on more occasions than one, you’d ended up pissing off some rich kid in school for which your dad and uncles were forced to pay the price.

You’d always hated the injustice the less fortunate suffered every day, but it wasn’t until you witnessed your first murder at fifteen that your interest of making the world a better place really piqued.

The victim had been one of the boys living in your neighborhood. He was two years older than you and he always gave it his all to make something out of himself. He walked with you and your younger brothers and cousins to school every day to make sure you got there safely, studied hard, kept out of trouble and always remained respectful.

The only reason he died was because his skin was the wrong color in the eyes of the law and because he was born into a less fortunate neighborhood, and it was then your eyes truly opened to the police brutality and misuse of power plaguing your country.

You joined the police force when you were nineteen years old and you stayed there, on top of your game and determined to do it better than the bad ones, until you were twenty-one. 

At that point, most of your family had passed away either out of old age, or simply from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and your determination to help people was stronger than ever.

But even you, the tough little firecracker as your uncles had always called you, could only tolerate so much.

After two years on the force, you got tired of being undermined by your male co-workers and set out to step up your game, taking up studies of criminology and psychology among several other subjects.

You studied your ass off and was just barely able to get by with the money you had saved up over the years, and at twenty-four, you finally had your degrees and clearance to begin working in higher places.

Starting off in New York, you stayed there for six months before you were transferred to Quantico, Virginia, where you were recruited by the one and only Jason Gideon who had heard word of your talent in the field.

You had worked with the team for little over a year now and Jason, who had always acted as a kind of mentor and father figure for you, was gone, having left only a letter for you and Spencer each.

Taking his place was Aaron Hotchner, a fellow agent to which you hadn’t paid much personal attention before the departure of Gideon. But things changed when he left, a lot of things.

Hotch was fresh out of his divorce, moodier than ever and in a really bad mental state. He stayed in his office until the late hours of the night, sometimes even the early hours of the next morning, barely slept and often forgot to eat if he wasn’t reminded by his team members.

Everyone urged him to take some time off, to go home and get some sleep and to take care of himself, and although he always told them that he would, he never followed through.

Up until then, you still hadn’t spoken much with him except for when you were working on a case. You were just an agent and he was just your boss, there was nothing else to it. But you couldn’t just sit by and watch as he neglected himself, so you followed your team-mates’ example and approached him.

He dismissed you at first, like he had done everyone else who had tried to offer him their support. But as time passed by, in some miraculous way, you made him laugh, and as you continued your attempts on offering him your ear to listen, he opened up to you, and you grew to become more than just colleagues.

Your first and only date had been on your initiative. You invited him to dinner at your house during your weekend off, to which he agreed.

You cooked together and although it started off as kind of awkward – more from his side than yours – you ended up kissing later that night after having had a bit too much to drink, and fell asleep together on your couch while you were flicking through your childhood photo albums.

The next morning, he was gone. You had always been an extremely light sleeper so you found it strange that he had managed to slip off without alerting you and also having managed to wrap you up in a blanket before he left.

He didn’t leave without a word though. A note was neatly placed on the coffee table in front of you, on which he explained that he needed to pick up Jack and that he didn’t want to wake you, finishing it off with a thank you for the night before.

That was the first and last time you spent time together, just the two of you, but it wasn’t like it was intentional.

You wanted to do it again, to continue exploring the budding romance between the two of you and to see where you could take it, and although you knew nothing of his feelings, he wanted the same thing.

But work got very stressful; stressful to the point where you could never find a moment to talk to each other if it wasn’t in the presence of the entire team. But the spark between you wasn’t gone.

It was still there in the way he would let his hand hover above the small of your back when you were walking side by side and step in front of you if you were ever in danger, and in the way you would always take a second to ask how he and Jack was doing, if they were eating enough and getting enough sleep, whenever you were heading somewhere; no matter if the team was with you.

It was there in the way he would always encourage you to go on the less dangerous tasks while he took the ones that were more life-threatening and in the way he would always smile, the slightest of smiles, whenever you were exchanging jokes or sarcastic remarks with Morgan, or messing around with poor, clueless Reid.

It was there, but it was unspoken. At least until now.

The case you had been working on for the past two days was that of Gilbert Stratton; a serial killer who had targeted young women, killed them, drained them of their blood, and then proceeded to hang the bodies up by their feet in trees all around the city.

You had caught him just in time to save the last kidnapped girl and you had originally been the one assigned to question him, but Hotch had stepped in last minute after the man had made a crude comment about how ‘girls like you always tasted the best’.

You had attempted to tell him that you could take it, but before you had even been given a chance to state your case, he had shut the door in your face and you had been whisked off by JJ.

You were the one out of the entire team who was the most interested in the psychology of a serial killer so you really wanted to be the one to interview Stratton, but you knew that Hotch had taken over for the sake of your safety and not because he underestimated you, so you couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad.

While he did his job, you settled at your desk with a sigh, getting to work on the heft stack of paperwork that had been building up throughout the week. 

The first ten minutes you kept close track of the clock next to you, wondering why it was taking so long, but the more time that passed, the more focused you became.

Soon enough, you only had a few reports left and you had completely lost track of time, when there was a sudden bang behind you, sounding an awful lot like a door slamming shut.

And your suspicions were proven correct, when you looked up to see Hotch march straight the bullpen.

The corners of your lips tugged up at the sight of him, but the arising smile quickly fell again when he walked right past you, without even an acknowledging glance, heading into his office and shutting himself inside without as much of a word to anyone.

Left behind with dumbstruck looks on their faces were the team, glances of bewilderment being exchanged.

“What happened?” Reid asked the question you were all thinking after a moment of silence, just as Emily walked in from the interrogation room.

Rather than answering Reid’s question, she looked right at you, offering you a small, comforting smile. “I think you better go talk to him.” She said simply, and as confusion and anxiety bubbled up inside of you, you slowly drawled.

“Okaaay…”

They all watched you as you stood up from your seat, brushing down your shirt and turning off the lamp at your desk before heading for the stairs.

You could feel their eyes following your every move and you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous of what you were about to walk into.

Everyone had gotten negatively affected by a case or unsub at some point during their career, most more than once. They were all very good at getting into your head, no matter how little you wanted to admit it. But you had never seen Hotch react this strongly to anything before. The only time you had really seen him snap was during one single case, right after Haley had filed for a divorce.

Still, you kept walking until you reached his closed office door, stopping only then to peek inside the blinded windows to see him sitting at his desk, hands rubbing over his face.

You knocked on the glass gently and in any other case he would have looked up and meet your gaze, but when his head kept hanging this time, you let yourself in, only when closing the door behind you cutting off the curious eyes of the others.

Once you were inside, you wasted no time in approaching Hotch where he sat by his desk, analyzing his every move which led you to only one question.

What the hell had Stratton said to him to make him this distraught?

He didn’t even look up as you reached him, keeping his eyes closed as you came to a stop beside his desk.

Treading carefully, you reached out and gently put your hand on his shoulder.

“What happened?” You asked softly, the sound of your words instantly bringing a long, heavy sigh out of his nose.

“Why are you doing this?” He wasted no time in replying, causing a crease to form between your eyebrows.

“What?” You asked back, confusion lacing your voice.

Finally, he brought his hands down from his face and slowly spun around in his chair, forcing you to drop your hand from his shoulder and to take a step back.

He stared up at you, face wiped free of emotion as always. But the eyes said it all.

“Why are you so adamant on being with me? Why do you try so hard?” He questioned you, taking you by surprise.

Your eyebrows shot up and your eyes grew slightly wider, and you took a moment to regain your composure after the, to say the least, unexpected question.  

“What kind of question is that?” You asked once you finally regained your senses. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you want to be with someone? Try?”

One of your eyebrows sank again, leaving only one raised in question.

Hotch’s face softened slightly and for a moment, he averted his eyes, letting out another, smaller sigh from his nose before looking back up to meet your eyes once again.

“What I mean is, why do you want to be with me?” He asked again, clarifying and slightly shaking his head in what seemed to be disbelief. “The second you walked into this office, both Morgan and Reid had their eyes on you, and they still do. They’re closer to your age, they’re energetic, humorous, full of life, while I’m ten years your senior, and can’t offer you what they can. So why do you want to be with me, when you can have them, or anyone you want?”

“What is it that they can give me that you can’t?” You didn’t waste a second in firing back.

You had no idea what had brought this on, but it was clear that it was bothering him and quite frankly, you found it ridiculous even though you didn’t like making it a habit to judge other people for what they were feeling.

“They can make you smile-“ He started explaining, and you instantly cut him off.

“You make me smile, all the time.” You shook your head, but your affirmation only seemed to fuel his frustrations even more as he was up on his feet within the next second.

“But I’m not- I’m not fun.” He stated, staring you down. “My clock is ticking. I’m ill-tempered, irritable, too serious for my own good. I’m barely capable of taking care of myself at this point much less my son. I’m miserable and I’m a bully, who only cares about this job. Why would you want to be with someone like that?”

“Where is this coming from? I thought we had something good going.” Your face fell slightly, and you carefully reached your hands out to grab a hold of the front of his suit, taking a small step closer.

“Is this because of Stratton? Is he the one putting these doubts into your head?” You asked, keeping your eyes on your hands for a short moment before looking up to meet his heavy gaze staring down at you.

And once your eyes met his, he knew there was no point in lying; you were a profiler after all, and a good one at that.

“He did.” He confessed calmly, his lips pursing into a straight line.

“Aaron…” You began, the softness of your voice matching the one in your eyes.

“But everything he said is true.” He quietly interrupted you. “I’m not fun to be around, I push people away. That’s what I do, what I’ve always done.” His eyebrows rose and he stood still.

You knew about the doubts he had about himself. You know he felt inadequate as a friend, as a colleague, as a father, and more than anything as a partner after the way Haley had left him. You were aware of all of it, and yet the sound of those self-doubts being voiced aloud saddened you nonetheless.

Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you took another step closer, flattening your palms out on his chest and your eyes never leaving his.

“Those people didn’t deserve you in the first place. They knew what they were getting themselves into when they started building a relationship with you, whether it be a romantical or purely platonic one. They knew how passionate you are about your job, how much you value it. Them leaving… That’s on them, not you.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I’m not about to give up on you, on us, just because you happen to be a few years older than me. Derek, he wants to have fun, to be young. He may be attracted to me but he doesn’t want anything serious. Spencer isn’t ready for a relationship either, for obvious reasons, and either way, they’re not the ones I want.”

He watched you intensely as you spoke, lips still tight and strained. “What is it that you want?” He asked you, and you wasted no time in replying.

“Something serious and stable, someone who’s ready to settle down, and for me, the best chance to get that is through you.” You smiled, breaking your eyes away from his to follow your hand as you moved it up to his face. “Regardless of what other people say, you’re an amazing person. You’re passionate, driven, kind, loyal, gentle, and so much more. Despite what you may think, you do have a sense of humor and you’re the only one who can make me smile until my cheeks hurt. If that’s not a good man, a good person, then I don’t know what is. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”

By the time you finished, the remaining doubt was wiped free from his face, a small, gentle smile instead having taken its place.

It was a funny thing, Hotch only ever spared the tiniest of smiles, and yet it was them that brought you the biggest and most intense amount of happiness. It was so rare to see his ever-stoic features reflect joy that you couldn’t help but light up like a kid on Christmas every time it occurred.

And true to what you’d always been told growing up, your smile was just so contagious that he couldn’t help but to smile wider at the sight.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and visibly relaxed where he stood.

Your heart swelled in your chest when you took note of the way he was slowly but surely shuffling closer to you, picking up a significant amount of speed when you then felt his hand brush against the side of your hip.

But he didn’t dare touch you, hesitation still lingering in the air. So you did what your heart told you and grabbed a hold of his hand, and pushed it down into the curve of your waist.

From then on, he moved on his own, raising his other hand to mimic the same position at your other side, and you let your hand drop from his, instead raising them to busy with his crimson red tie.

“I know you’re struggling, with yourself, with Jack, and that you’re still processing the divorce. And if it’s time you want, then I’ll wait.” You spoke quietly, feeling your skin flush hot under his touch as his thumbs began to move over the thin fabric of your shirt. “But if you want to keep going and see where this can go, then I’ll be here every step of the way to support and help you in any way I can. You just need to let me in.”

More shyly then before, you dared loo back up at him through your lashes, hands stilling on his chest.

His smile was gone and his eyes creased together in concentration, but his eyes were soft and his head slowly nodded. “You’re right.” He said, and you allowed yourself to smile again.

“Aren’t I always?” You lightheartedly teased, tilting your head to the side.

In return, a smile spread across his face, his head shaking. “Don’t make me take it back.”

“No, no take-backs. What’s said is said.” You kept joking, your smile only widening.

He kept smiling down at you for a few seconds longer, but then his face fell again, just like that, out of nowhere, completely sudden. The gaze he held on your face grew absent as he got lost in his thoughts, and before you could question him about the sudden change of mood, the words spilled from his lips as if there was no tomorrow.

“I think I love you.”

Your mind instantly broke into a flurry of thoughts, countless emotions battling in your body. Nervosity and excitement ended up coming out on top, the mixture of the two creating an uncomfortable, sickly feeling in your stomach.

Your face fell in disbelief and your eyes searched his as he came back to reality.

“You do?”

Your voice came out so quiet and small, you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so pathetic, but luckily, you didn’t get much time to beat yourself up over the anticlimactic reacting as he continued.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t feel the same way, but I needed to say it. Every day, this job puts all of our lives in danger. I couldn’t bear it if one of us died before I got the time to let you know how I feel.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling yourself growing weak at the knees as he absentmindedly rubbed your waist with his thumbs.

“Just a minute ago, you were trying to end… whatever this is, and now your proclaiming your love for me?” You asked. 

It was meant to be a joke, an attempt to ease the anxiety you were currently feeling, but you realized quickly that said anxiety made it sound like the exact opposite of a lighthearted, teasing joke.

Luckily, the man standing in front of you was a profiler and knew that you meant no harm, understanding how shock could render your ability to react appropriately.

“I was never trying to end what we have. I just wanted to be sure that you were sure. That I won’t be holding you back.” He explained, and you finally managed to pull yourself out of the state of shock.

“Being with you motivates me. And I love you, too.” You confessed, the smile once again returning to your face as you moved your hands from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. 

“I’m happy to hear that.” He smiled right back. “Can I kiss you?” He quietly added, and your face instantly lit up in a mischievous expression.

“In the office?” You gasped dramatically, bringing your arms down, taking a step back and lightly slapping his chest. “Aren’t you feeling frisky today?”

A large smile stretched across his lips, his chest shaking as he chuckled. “Come here.” He said simply, and before you got the chance to argue, not that you would’ve if given the opportunity, he sat back down in his chair and pulled you down with him. 

The chair spun in the process, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your small laughs of glee quickly became muted as he placed his lips on yours, replaced by low hums of contentment. 

You clung to him as if your life depended on it, basking in the feeling of his lips moving against yours and his arms tightening around your waist, and as your entire body burned with passion, you realized that he really was the one for you.

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