sunshineszn

[sunshineszn]

#thinking of writing a fic where y/n is a new high ranking concubine in the rear palace with her own lore and mysteries that Maomao & Jinshi help solve.

[sunshineszn]

pov: you’re scrolling trying to find a cute little fluffy fanfic to read but everything you get is smut 

no smut hate, i just want to giggle :(

[sunshineszn]

I'm not just a bitch, I'm a bitch with a backstory

[sunshineszn]

LIKE SPECKS OF SUNLIGHT IN THE EARLY MORN. ( p. a.)

portgas d. ace & marine!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written / portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such! everyone is welcome to read <3 reader wears glasses, and is a marine stationed on an unnamed island at a base along the grand line. ‘lazy morning’ / ‘morning after’ kind of vibes so, a bit of pillow talk (?) . references to smut & making love (it already happened). contains some angst & angsty themes throughout (i.e., ace dealing with his self esteem issues, low self worth, etc..) otherwise it’s supposed to be fluffy ( the quiet, somber kind i think ) ! descriptions of kissing & borderline making out. ace is kind of lovesick and clingy but it’s subtle-ish. lots of introspection and reflection on both him and the reader’s part. kind of based on mitski's "my love, mine all mine", definitely had that song on repeat as i wrote this. romantic and deeply poetic rhetoric but y’all already know that’s just how i write lol. told from omniscient point of view (third person). proofread this as i was feeling sleepy, so please excuse any mistakes or things that don’t make sense!

word count ━━ ! 3.9k

notes ━━ ! guess who's baaaaack.....! i know it's been a while since i have published any original work and i want to apologize for that. lately it's been difficult finding the energy to write something for more than five minutes and honestly, i think i just need to rediscover what drives me so i can tap into the zone more often. i missed it though, and hope i get to write more this year <3 anyway, first fic of 2025 and it feels right to make it about second commander of the whitebeard pirates, portgas d. ace. this fic is my late birthday 'gift' to him and something of a love letter because ohhhhh i miss my pookie bear so much :(( this entire idea started as just me thinking about kissing each of his freckles because i have the personal hc that he doesn't really like them, the reason for it is inherently tied to his distaste for his father and by extension himself :/ and then it just turned into this lmao. i hope ace doesn't behave too out of character here, as this is also my first time writing for him in any context, so pls be gentle with me. REBLOBS + COMMENTARY ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED.

IT WAS NOT THE LIGHT chirping of small birds that awoke you, nor was it the ringing of your biological clock telling you that the dawn was near. Instead it was a familiar tugging sensation within the pit of your stomach— the need to relieve yourself— that caused your eyes to peel themselves back slowly and with struggle, slumber from the previous night hasn’t been completely washed away yet.

It took your brain several more moments to dust off enough of its sleepy exhaustion before you attempted to sit up from your comfortable position in bed, but were immediately met with some light resistance.

The resistance in question was a long, muscled arm thrown around your soft torso, blackened ink of a tattoo staining the skin on its bicep. It was still too dark and you were still too tired to make out the sharp angles of the marking, but you knew what they were; your eyes have gazed upon it more times than you could count, and it has made a home in your memory.

That’s when your ears registered the rhythmic and almost nasal snores that flowed from the mouth of the man who held you so securely against his chest, and you almost smiled at how completely at ease and relaxed he seemed. 

At times like this, when things were still or you had a moment to yourself, you still could not wrap your head around the fact that you had gotten yourself involved with Portgas D. Ace— willingly at that. 

The first time was a fluke at best. That’s the excuse you were going to go with. You didn’t realize he was a pirate— an infamous pirate with hundreds of millions of Beri to his name— until your clothes were already halfway off and you were feverishly grinding down onto his lap like some touch-starved whore who’s been aching to feel something. That ‘fluke’ was one spurred on by alcohol, a particularly rough week at sea, and a sizable lapse in judgment, but you hadn’t felt that…… alive in a long time. But now, two years have passed since you have been seeing Ace in secret like this, and you have long since given up blaming it on a fragile emotional constitution further weakened by alcohol. You knew good and well what you were doing, and you could no longer deny the way your heart was constantly set aflutter whenever you spent any amount of time with him.

You did try your hardest to not let yourself enjoy how … domestic it all seemed: waking up next to him in the morning and falling asleep entangled with each other at night, having him hide out at your cozy apartment for days at a time, cooking him meals when you were relieved of your duties for the day. You wouldn’t— shouldn’t let yourself enjoy such content thoughts too much, because you also knew it could all be over in the blink of an eye. The world could be cruel that way if it wanted to.

But still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be grateful for these moments. From what you could tell, Ace seemed to enjoy this arrangement as much as you did. And for now, that was enough.

Lightly wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you carefully lifted his arm from around you, moving slow so you wouldn’t wake him up. Once you’ve successfully loosened his hold, you sat upright, a muted ache shooting through your lower body as you shifted around to stand. The ache mostly resided in between your legs, and a flood of memories from just hours ago rushed over you at once, causing a tingling warmth to bloom underneath your skin. Ace had poured so much into you, it never failed to leave you equal parts stunned and breathless when you witnessed his passion overflow from the brim of his being. His hands, calloused palms that always ran hot, had been everywhere— your body could still feel the heat of where they had laid, caressed, groped, smacked, and squeezed. And you involuntarily jolted as you recalled where his fingers and lips had been, how it felt to be pressed so closely against him as he simultaneously took you apart. 

After another moment of being lost in your own reverie, you pulled yourself out of it and filed those memories away in a separate corner of your mind, so that you may more fully indulge in them later. As you carefully removed the blankets and climbed over the sleeping pirate, one bare foot had hardly hit the cool wooden floor before a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. 

A quiet grumbling noise vibrated from behind Ace’s lips, his eyes remained closed as he spoke, indicative that he was barely awake. “Wh…where y’goin’....?” His words were slurred and thick with sleep, his deep voice reaching the depths of your being to spark something to life in the pit of your belly. But you promptly ignored it for now. 

“To the bathroom, I gotta pee.”

He replied with another mumbling sort of noise, presumably one of acknowledgment or begrudging acquiescence— you couldn’t be sure. “M’kay, just . . . hurry back t’bed, will ya? M’cold.” 

You found amusement in the inherent irony of his claim that he was ‘cold’  when he always ran a little warmer than most— not to mention his devil fruit powers— but also in the fact that despite his urging you to take care of your business swiftly, he hasn't released his hold on your wrist yet. In fact, he tugged you a little closer to him, as if he was trying to pull you back into bed. 

A small smile began to curl at the corners of your lips as you moved to manually pry his fingers from your arm so you can make your way out of the bedroom and down the hall.

For the next several minutes, Ace was left alone. 

He stirred in his partially-awake state as he made himself comfortable again in bed, but one eye managed to pry itself open by a few millimeters. It was unfortunate he was roused from his deep  sleep, but he was sure he’d doze off again soon enough. 

From what he could see, the room was still dark for the most part, his surroundings washed in a rich, navy blue color, a telltale sign that the sun would rise within the next hour or so. Aside from the faint rustling coming from the bathroom, the air was occupied by a serene silence, meaning his innermost thoughts became that much more perceptible to his mind’s ear. 

Sometimes, a part of Ace felt like fate had shined upon him— just a little, just this once— when his mind mulled over his…unique relationship with you, and all the events that led up to this exact moment. He too understood the implications of seeing you like this, but he couldn’t find it within himself to let go and move on. There was just…something about you, something special. 

Even now, he still couldn’t quite understand why you were taking such a big risk and basically throwing your life away by getting comfortable with a pirate like him. The both of you came from two different worlds, the morals embedded within those worlds constantly pitted you against each other. 

But you willingly ignored them, and so did he. 

Perhaps that was the ‘special’ quality about you and this relationship that he still struggled to articulate, how pure and genuine it all felt— how you were. Either way, he was grateful that he wasn’t the only one being a little selfish. And every now and again, Ace might silently thank the universe for allowing him this one thing, even though he hasn’t, and probably never will do anything, to deserve it. 

The increasing volume of footsteps pulled Ace from his thoughts, and soon enough you reappeared in the doorway, making your way back to bed– back home in Ace’s arms.

Your lips parted in a yawn, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound, before carefully climbing over the taller man to reclaim your spot next to him. Ace wasted no time encasing you against him once more, one arm laid lazily across your stomach and the other resting under your neck, acting somewhat as a pillow of sorts.

“...took too long,” the pirate muttered under his breath, the low, vibrating sound of his voice so close to your ear did nothing for your fiercely pulsating heart. It was the only organ in your entire body that seemed to be fully awake right now.

“I wasn’t even gone for that long, ya big baby. Prob’ly less than five minutes.” A soft sigh punctuated your reply, snuggling more into the toned front of Ace’s chest and abdomen as he adjusted the thick blankets over both of your bodies. The covers, as well as the gentle warmth radiating from his exposed skin, provided a steady stream of heat that battled against the crisp morning air, both sensations nearly enough to lull you back to sleep. You enthusiastically pushed aside the fact that you had to get up again in two and a half hours for your shift to patrol around the city.

“Shuddup, let’s go to sleep.” Ace grumbled, pulling you even closer to him so that very little space existed between both of you, and nearly nuzzling his face in the bonnet you wore on your head. A soundless chuckle rumbled within your chest, finding his sleepy and almost pouty tone both amusing and adorable.

However, despite his own request, and the fact that his own eyes were barely open, Ace was finding it difficult to once more quiet his thoughts enough to drift back to sleep. They were still a bit too loud and knocked against his skull too much. 

Such thoughts only seemed to intensify when both of his eyes managed to peel themselves open this time in order to observe your form next to him. From what he could see based on where he laid, Ace silently took note of how tranquil your expression was as your breathing began to even out, how long your eyelashes actually were without your glasses obscuring them, and the small birthmark on your cheek that he developed a habit of kissing. His dark eyes roamed across every inch of your face, and he relished in the soft flesh of your stomach underneath his fingertips, giving it a feather-light squeeze every now and again.

You were here with him— in this bed, hardly wearing anything at all, and practically clinging to the arm wrapped around your abdomen— bound together with a kiss on that fateful night two years ago. You wanted to be here, he knew that. So why was it he still had to wrestle with the phantoms of doubt in the darker sectors of his mind? Why did they haunt him so, and prevent him from just plainly accepting this for what it is? Accept that it was okay to indulge, okay to claim this one thing as his and his alone? He didn’t even claim his own father, but this— you? Oh, how he wanted to be greedy, he yearned for it. But something in him, some dark, caustic, unforgiving thing, made him feel like he shouldn’t.

But didn’t he deserve something nice too? Something that wasn’t, or could no longer be tainted by the wicked and unloving world they were born into?

Ace knew that you cared for him— quite a lot, more than you should. There was a four letter word he might have used to label the way in which you cared about him, and he about you, but he dare not say it. He dared not say it in fear that the universe would snatch it away the moment it left his lips, and reveal that it was only playing a heartless joke on him.

“Hey. Are you… okay? Okay with this, I mean.” The words left his lips without putting a real thought behind them, for his mind was preoccupied with trying to keep itself afloat above the sea of negative ones that tried to carry him off to a place he did not want to visit.

Your left eye opened, then your right, as if opening them would help you better process his sudden question. Your brows furrowed next, digging deeper into your forehead in order to figure out the hidden meaning behind his words— or if there was one to begin with. “I…this position is fine, and I’m comfortable. Unless you want to be closer to the window?” You replied with your own question, uncertainty of what he was asking about thick in your tone. And judging by the way his arm tightened around you by a fraction and the nearly inaudible sigh that left his lips, it became clear that’s not what he was truly asking.

“No, I meant…are you okay with us?” Ace’s already husky voice quieted even more, nearly tapering off into a whisper. But he was pressed close enough to you that you were still able to hear him loud and clear. Something about the way he phrased his question rang a silent alarm in your head, indicating that the forthcoming conversation was going to take a more solemn turn.

With that in mind you shifted in his arms, turning around so that you were now facing Ace directly, still so close that the tips of your noses nearly touched each other. His hold on you readjusted as a result, the tattooed arm once more staking its claim on your waist and effectively trapping you against his front. His sable tresses fell unceremoniously across his face, a few strands nearly covering one of his eyes. Your fingers didn’t miss the opportunity to brush them away. 

“Yes.” Your reply was simple, and you thought it important to make that clear first because something, an emotion you were unable to categorize, flickered in his still-hooded eyes. And something about it worried you. “I am more than okay with us. There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now.” The fingers lingering on his skin suddenly became your entire palm, as you were now cupping the side of his face.

Ace burned even warmer here compared to the rest of his body, and you found physical comfort in the sensation. His skin seemed to ignite under your touch despite his sleepiness, and the dark-haired pirate was internally grateful that it was still quite dark in your room, so you were unable to see the light flush that was beginning to form underneath his freckled cheeks. 

“Why are you asking?” Your inquiry was as tender as your touch, and it made his chest ache. 

It took Ace several seconds to search for his next words and arrange them in a sentence, for your straightforward reply admittedly caught him off-guard. Now he was unsure if there was a need to continue at all.

But the specters of doubt were ever persistent.

“I just…” The words faded away on his tongue before he could say them and instead, your response rang loud in his head. 

‘There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now’.

Did you mean that? Have you always felt that way? Did you just happen to say that because he asked a question, because somehow you knew that’s what something in his soul wanted to hear?

And then, Ace found his words again. “You can do better, you know.” His voice turned more gruff, rough around the edges, as if he had to forcefully tug those words from the back of his throat. As if it hurt to say that. “You could, if you wanted. You’re gorgeous. Intelligent, resourceful. You have a respectable career, and you can cook damn good.”

You released a soft chuckle at that last part, finding it comical how he always found a way to talk about how good your food was. But whatever uptick on your lips faded as soon as it came once Ace parted his lips to speak again.

“You don’t have to spend your time, money, or energy on someone like me. You didn’t have to spread those pretty legs of yours for me, either. Didn’t have to let me stay here whenever I come to town. You didn’t even have to let me sleep in this bed so close to you.”

He paused, the muscles laying against and wrapped around you tensed briefly, his eyelashes met the apples of his cheeks when he allowed his eyes to close for a moment. When he opened them again, he found it harder to look at you— if he did, he might crumble away. “You could do better than a pirate like me, who has nothing going for himself except for instability, anger and…and hate. So, why?”

The next words reverberated in the air without Ace even having to say them. Why choose me? Why risk all of that for me?

Similarly, something throbbed uncomfortably within your chest as you listened to him speak, even after he finished and silence descended upon the both of you. 

You could only wonder where this line of questioning originated from. It was uncharacteristic of Ace to voice thoughts of this nature, even more so when there was no prior word or action to lure them forward. You continued to observe him in the quiet, not even realizing that you had been softly caressing his cheek all this while until your hand came to a halt.

Why? Why were you with Ace, entangled in every sense of the word and jeopardizing the life you’ve built for yourself for his sake? The answer seemed so simple, but not as much now that you had to consciously think about it; you somehow struggled to put it into words. 

Ace was like the rays of sunlight that peeked through heavy drapes in the early morning— much like they would soon be in a few hours— or like the flickering flames of a small fire that offered you solace on an unkind wintery night. He was warm and intense, but mellow and tender at the same time, in his own way. He offered you comfort when you needed it, stirred up something in you when you wanted it, brightened your life when you didn’t even realize how dull and monochrome it was. Ace was…

“Allow me to offer a question of my own. Why are you taking an equally significant, if not greater risk, just to curl up in my bed with me? Why come back so often to this town, risking capture, if only to hold me close, eat the food I make, and to make love to me?”

Your inquiries seemed to tug you forward, motivating you to scoot a little closer to Ace so that there was hardly even an iota of space existing in between your faces. His breath hitched quietly in his chest at that, more so when you leaned forward and simply placed your lips on his cheek, right on top of the dozens of prominent and faded freckles that resided there. Something about the gesture felt intentional— like you did not kiss his face, but the light specks on top of it. And thinking about it like that made his taut chest twinge again in a manner he could not describe right now.

Your breaths against his flesh were soft and leveled, and successfully fanned the flames of an even pinker flush to blossom across his visage.

He struggled to give you a coherent answer to your questions because his inner thoughts seemed to reset every time your plush lips came in contact with his face— all gentle like he would break if you applied too much pressure. He never associated that word with himself before, nor had anyone else in his entire life.

So why did he do it? Why did he do any of it? Why was he so attached to you, to your existence, your presence, and everything that reminded him of you? 

Ace knew the answer. 

He fears he’s known it for some time now.

But would it be right— would it be okay to label it with the word that was sitting on his tongue? Did he truly have the capacity to bear the weight of it? Would this blissful reality he found himself nestled in start to unravel the moment he said it? Would the universe truly let him have this one thing to himself, forever?

A feathery, open-mouthed kiss from you onto his nose cut off his thoughts, but confirmed his answer. 

A bleary sort of smile, edges softened by his affection for you, tugged the corners of Ace’s mouth upwards. The hand that encased your waist traveled further downwards to take the meat of your thigh in its grasp, and toss it over his own hips. He had slung your leg over himself in an attempt to hold your bodies inexplicably closer, the feeling of his fingers gliding lazily across your exposed skin caused your pulse to quicken.

“I understand. Thank you.” 

Within another second or two, his mouth eventually met with yours. His lips and yours seamlessly molded together, like they were two carved parts of the same whole. It was a slow, saccharine thing, ultimately leading your fingertips to slide back and thread themselves through his dark locks, and the calloused, hot palm on your thigh to grip the area ever tighter— as if you’d evaporate if he didn’t do so.

Ace loved you— was in love with you. His heart thrummed against his chest when he tossed that fact around in his head, gradually accepting it to be true as he steadily deepened the kiss.

He murmured those three words into your mouth after languidly coaxing it open with his tongue so the wet muscle could slither inside and make a home there. It was barely intelligible, but somehow you knew what he’d said. Such a declaration was only reserved for you, so of course you recognized it. Ace didn’t even want the words to linger in the air, lest the universe heard what he had said. He still thanked it though, grateful to whatever deities thrusted you into his path that night so that he could have this moment with you, and build similar ones like this hereafter.

You reciprocated it, quietly sighing the words back into him and he eagerly swallowed them up, giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze in response.

Briefly, you pulled back, but only by a millimeter— not wanting the cold air of the early morning to catch you yet— and your palm ended up on Ace’s jaw. The pad of your thumb brushed over the sheet of freckles with no particular pattern or rhythm, and you absently thought about how they might be your favorite feature on his entire body. As if to emphasize this point, you pressed a lingering kiss onto its surface again, and for a moment, Ace thought he might shut down. He simply could not comprehend the loving nature behind such a simple act, or why it affected him so; all he could do was offer a small, fond grin.

Time still marched forward, but it graciously allowed the pair of lovers to bask in each other for a little while longer. The sky’s hue would slowly shift from a deep navy blue to a slightly brighter one, causing the dimness of the room to inch back into its corners for the day. The sunlight would soon come.

( # ) @icy-spicy @triangularz @pookieace @ichore @valentineluvu

[sunshineszn]

nanami kento is known to have a habit of crossing his legs when he sits. when he's reading, or just idly thinking. it's just something he does unconsciously, often time he doesn't even realize it himself.

yet this quickly changes after he got together with you.

now, everytime you come into the same room as him, the man quickly shifted his legs back to a regular position; you know, just in case you want to sit on lap.

fine, he wants you to sit atop of it.

this is all because he had the mistake─one he'll gladly do over and over, of experiencing it once.

the feeling of your body pressed so close against him while you ramble on about absolutely nothing, which he listens to intently with a smile on his face; his hand running along your hair ever so softly while he hums once or twice as response to your animated chatter.

and then you rested your head on his shoulder after getting a bit tired, your strands tickling his neck in the best way possible. his hands moved smoothly to your sides, rubbing up and down. all soothed and relaxed, nanami loves the sight of you being so comfortable near him.

you probably couldn't get closer to him more than this could you? he thought, as he held you tighter nonetheless. he felt content, whole.

so yeah, in short, nanami wants you to sit on his laps.

and with how fast he does it too there's no way you don't notice the subtle change of how he sits lately. yet you don't have the heart to point how obvious he was being, so most of the times you just indulged him, no questions asked. although it's not like it wasn't enjoyable for you, it was the opposite.

not to mention the smile he wears everytime you do it... it's enough to make your knees go weak. a smile you'd go to war for, a smile that's worth doing anything he's asking for.

it seems like nanami isn't the only one who has a new habit, then.

[sunshineszn]

When y/n gets too annoying to the point you want to stop reading

[sunshineszn]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | prohero!bakugou x ex!reader (civilian)

a.n; HEAVY ANGST. PREPARE YOUSELVES TO CRY LIKE BABIES (like i did while writing this😭). Also, heavily inspired by this scene of a k-drama (LINK), but it doesn't follow the story of it or anything. I only used a little bit of the dialogue cuz 💔💔💔💔

02:01 a.m.

It's very late at night and Katsuki knows he shouldn’t be here. The moon is up in the night sky, shining bright, and the cold, winter wind would chill any other person’s bones. Yet he runs hot, so his level of cold is minimal; still, he wears his puff jacket, zipped up, and hands inside his pockets. The hoody over his head conceals his person a bit, yet it’s not necessary considering how cold it is no soul is wandering the streets. No sane person would willingly take a night walk in this weather.

Thanks to the old hag and dad for the quirk they give him, he literally is a walking human heater.

That’s what you used to call him. 

Katsuki sighs, the air he breathes out creating a mist that evaporates quickly due to the weather. He knows for sure you’d be cold right now. He would never admit it out loud, but even though the cold made it a tiny bit hard for him to use his quirk to its full potential, he liked the cold thanks to you. Or well, he liked the fact that you would stick to his side and be all over him thanks to how warm he was.

Your own personal human heater, it’s what you mockingly called him, smiling as you hide your face in his neck, arms hugging his torso inside his opened jacket –the same one he’s currently wearing, that you gifted him for one of his birthdays. Your body would stick so close to his, like trying to become one with him. Bakugou Katsuki would never admit it out loud, but he loved that you did that. He loved that you were so small compared to him that you would practically disappear from view whenever his body shielded yours. He loved that your cold nose over the skin of his neck made him want to purr like some stupid cat, spreading tingles all over his body. 

He loved that you used him for warmth when you were cold.

He loved you. He still fucking does. He loves you so fucking much it hurts.

And he knows you’re probably cold now.

And he’s not your human heater anymore. That hurts even more.

Katsuki sighs again, the vapor of his breath colliding with his face once again, as he stops in his tracks looking down at his shoes. He doesn’t need to look to know where he is. He has been taking this route on purpose for the last month.

He doesn’t know why he is doing this to himself. Maybe he is a fucking masochist who loves getting his heart beaten bloody and in pain. Yeah, maybe that’s it. Or maybe is because he still loves you and he couldn’t get you out of his head since Izuku shot him with the news.

You’re back. You're back in Japan. You even made your dream come true and opened a cozy coffee shop in the center of Tokyo, like you always wanted.

Katsuki had stayed. He stayed in Japan. He even made his own dream come true and became a successful pro hero, ranking number 2 –right behind Deku, but always competing with him for the first spot that goes up and down between the two. Like he always wanted.

You both got what you wanted. Except not all.

He doesn’t understand why he is here, in front of your little coffee shop crossing the street. Maybe he just wants a peek at you, a short glance at who you’ve become. Yet he knows. He knows you’re the freaking best. He knows you’re successful, you have always been fucking number one at everything you did. And your little business isn’t the exception. It is the talk of the city. He even saw a publicity of it on the TV yesterday. He had smiled proudly, thinking, “That’s my girl”. He had slapped his face in correction. You weren’t his anymore. He was not yours anymore. You two weren't together any-fucking-more.

Yet, here he is, yearning for a little glimpse of you like the air he needs to live.

It’s very late at night, it shouldn’t be even possible for you to be at the little shop at this hour. But if he knows you better, which he fucking does, he knows you’re there. Staying after hours to clean and let everything be prepped for the next day, like the overachiever little thing you are and always have been.

When Katsuki finally raises his head and looks, his eyes find you with ease. Your shop has glass walls, so it isn’t very difficult to distinguish where you are inside and what you’re doing. Your little form comes and goes around the empty shop, putting the last little Christmas decorations around. He chuckles, he was right, you’re still there. Figures.

He watches from a distance like he has been doing for the last month. He hadn’t run into you yet, considering his apartment is on the other side of the city –and fuck, yes, he has been avoiding patrols on this side where your coffee shop is. Call him a coward, he doesn’t fucking care. However, Izuku had bumped into you. He said you hugged him tightly, almost cried even, saying how much you have missed everyone. It made Katsuki wonder if he was included.

He snorts. Wouldn’t his wretched heart love that. Fucking masochist.

Katsuki watches you struggle a bit with an old ladder that you set right at the open door of the shop, clearly intending to climb it, decorations on your hands to put right over the frame. He frowns when you climb two steps and the ladder trembles. Fuck, you're fucking serious?? It’s pretty clear the thing is old enough to already be made barbecue fire. Why the hell do you have that thing?? After you’ve climbed almost half of it and still don’t reach the frame, the stupid ladder shaking like is about to fucking break under you, his worry said enough. His legs move fast, almost without will, but fully knowing you’re about to kiss the fucking floor thanks to that old ladder if he doesn’t move quickly. 

When he gets closer, he hears the distinctive crack of wood and your small worried gasp as you fall. You never get to touch the floor, because Bakugou Katsuki is already there, catching you on time.

Your eyes find his, opened wide in surprise. The warmth you used to hold in them is still there, capturing him like a moth stuck in honey, and he feels like he can breathe again.

“Kat– Bakugou…” The almost slip of his name doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you, tinting your cheeks in a cute shade of pink. Ah, yes, the little sparks inside his being you produced every time you even looked at him are still there too. He thought he had already extinguished them. But no, they’re still there.

“H-hi,” he wanted his voice to sound more sure, more firm. Yet it sounded like his throat was dry and constricted. Like he was holding back a fucking cry –which is true.

His eyes are glued to yours, his arms hold you tight against his body as both your breathing go back to normal. He doesn’t want to be the first one to break with any contact, so he waits. He enjoys this little bubble that’s been created between you two after years of not knowing anything about each other. Of being so far away from each other that Katsuki felt for the first time the piercing cold everyone talks about in winter. It literally felt like years of winter for him. A cold and merciless winter that made his heartache burn. And now, a simple touch, a closeness of your body to his, and he feels like spring just bloomed again.

How fucking pathetic of him.

“Hi,” you finally answer back, your breath colliding with his face. He breathes it in, feeling like that is just all he needs to survive –at least for one more second. The shy smile that adorns your face makes him want to smother you in kisses all over your face like he used to do. But he can’t. He fucking can’t now.

“I… Thanks,” your beautiful smiling eyes make him want to punch his stomach so the damn butterflies stop fluttering.

“Your ladder was fucking old,” he complains, putting your feet back on the ground.

Your giggles sound like the symphony of heaven in Katsuki’s ears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have trusted it would help me at all.”

“You could have had a stupid accident, dumbass,” he squats to pick up the broken pieces of the ladder and what was left of it under your watch.

He doesn’t see the way you smile at him, but he hears you say, “Some things never change, huh?”

You’re right. His feelings for you would never change. And, fucking hell, he tried. He tried so hard not to feel anything for you all these years. Yet every mention of your name made him melt like a weak ass marshmallow in a hot chocolate drink. He even found himself daydreaming about seeing you, talking to you, touching you in any way you would let him.

Again, how fucking pathetic.

Bakugou Katsuki hasn’t stopped loving you since the day you parted ways.

It had been a mutual decision. He was very focused on his training and work to be a pro hero; lots of agencies wanted him to join. You were surrounded by options too, yet you decided to quit any hero dream you once had and chose to live a mundane, quiet life. That’s when Thirteen offered to speak of you to a colleague in the USA for a scholarship to join a cooking course. Katsuki saw your eyes shine lively, happy when you told him.

He knew then and there that you were going away from him. And he was not going to stop you. You had your dream, he had his. He was never going to make you choose between him and your dream. Because if he had to pick between you and his own, he would have picked his dream. Don’t misunderstand, he loved you, and still does, to death. But both of you were young, kids trying to find a path in the new world left after the war. Healing, failing, succeeding. Sometimes tripping down and getting back up. You were simply kids trying to understand life. Not that it has been any easier as adults, on the contrary. But now the circumstances are different. All of you have matured, gotten wise even. And it’s that same wisdom that made Katsuki not reach out to you again, despite his all-consuming feelings for you.

Bakugou Katsuki is now pro hero Dynamight, one of the most successful heroes of this generation. Which also means, he is a target most of the time. Villains hate him as much as he hates them.

Katsuki would cut his own hands himself if something ever happened to you, especially if it was because of him.

“Where do you want this trash?” He asks standing up and looking back at you. Your eyes shine, glassy and watering looking under the night lights. His chest tightens when he realizes you’re holding back tears. Fuck, he can’t look at you, or he’ll start fucking crying too.

“T-there’s… umm…” you clear your throat, trying to find your normal voice. “There’s a small closet at the back of the shop, on the left side. Just throw it there.”

Katsuki nods, entering the nice coffee shop and following your directions. This whole interaction is more than he expected, more than he hoped for. He has been watching you from afar, like a pathetic stalker. Avoiding to breathe in the same direction you did. Because of this.

The tears. The yearning. The fucking love that clouded every sense in him. All for you.

When he walks back to the front of the shop, he finds you sitting at one of the small tables for two. You’re holding a cup of something, and another waits for him in the seat in front of you.

Katsuki takes one deep breath in before walking towards where you are. He sits but you don’t look at him, you’re looking down at the cup between your small hands. He slightly smiles, he knows what you’re doing. Your hands are always cold, so you like holding the cup between your hands with anything warm in it to try to warm them. You have done this since he could remember, and that thought makes his insides sparkle. You haven’t changed at all.

Yet many things have changed.

The sweet and warm smell of hot chocolate fills his nostrils, and the smile widens on his face as he sees the contents of his cup. Katsuki isn’t the type to like sweet things, yet your hot chocolate has always been his weakness.

He hasn’t had it in years, since you moved away to another continent, so he can avoid to enjoy quite thoroughly the first sip. And yeah, it tastes just as he remembers. All you.

There’s silence. He doesn’t push a conversation and neither do you. You both just drink your hot cocoa and wait. Wait for anyone to gather some courage and say something.

There’s so much to say, so much to ask, so much to answer. Yet the bubble is nice and cozy, Katsuki really doesn’t want to be the one to pop it.

Right at the last sip of the drink, you are the one who decides to finally pop the bubble.

“I know,” it’s all you say, and Katsuki understands it perfectly.

You know he has been around. You know he has been watching from afar, carefully protecting you from the shadows. You know he has sent Izuku and Eijirou more times than he cares to admit just so he knew you were okay, safe. You know it had been Katsuki the one who dealt with that piece of trash who left the shop without paying and sent the money via mailing to you. You know he was the one who hung the big sign of your shop after it fell due to a strong windy day. You know he has been aware of every one of your moves around the shop for a month.

You know.

“I was… I didn’t want to-...” His voice breaks when he looks up and sees the tears running down your cheeks. His own eyes fill with uncontrollable tears he knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer either.

For the first time, Katsuki thinks his heart won’t survive this.

Despite this, he smiles genuinely at you and asks, “H-how have you been doing?”

You don’t break eye contact as you clean the tears from your face and murmur a simple, “Good.”

Katsuki knows himself well, and he knows he is a complete bastard. Because it pisses him off. It makes him mad that you’re good when he carries this turmoil of feelings for you that are making him go insane day by day.

He feels his insides bursting, all the emotions spilling out from his being pathetically as he cries in front of you. “Really?” One nod in answer. And he can’t stand looking at your facade of neutral features as tears keep escaping your eyes in betrayal.

Katsuki snorts, forearms leaning over the table and his head hanging low, “Why it fuckin’ annoys me that you’re doing well? Damn it.”

“You don’t actually mean that…”

“I do, I always mean everything I fuckin’ say,” he leans back against the chair, eyes going back to yours. His probably are even redder thanks to his tears, just like yours already look puffy from yours.

Katsuki decides then that this is the moment. This is the moment to finally pour out everything he has been carrying inside for you.

“Because you see, as I’m sure you’re aware now, day by fuckin’ day, I’m dying a little more inside without you. And you’re just– doing well.”

The sudden cry that leaves your being makes him want to hold you, and the little sobs only sink him more into the pit of feelings he named ‘Y/N’. Because he hasn’t been able to get out of it, nor has he actually put enough effort to, swimming there painfully pleasantly.

And yet… there you are. Doing well.

So well, that you are going to marry another guy.

Katsuki stretches his arm over the table and reaches without struggle the wrist of one of your hands that hides your crying face. You let him bring that hand toward the table, and he holds it in between his. He smiles again; he was right, your hands are always cold.

“Y-you waited…” you weep, your other hand resting over your chest, right where your heart is.

He nods, “I waited…”

You close your eyes, head going to a side and sobbing again. It hurts him so much to see you like this, just as much as the thought of another man being the carer of that precious heart of yours.

“Oh, Katsuki…”

The way you whimper his name like it physically hurts you, made him want to vomit. It brought a new deep pain to his chest that he doubts he is ever going to recover from.

There’s silence again, both of you sniffing and trying to gather your emotions back in control.

He doesn’t know why he came here. Probably he needed a confirmation of what Izuku told him after his first encounter with you.

“She’s going to marry, Kacchan,” Izuku’s words had been like an ice-cold bucket of water thrown at his back, leaving him breathless and distressed. But it didn’t compare with the next bomb, “because she’s pregnant. She wanted the ceremony to be here, in commemoration of her parents.”

He pucked right then and there; Izuku being the best fucking friend he always has been tended to Katsuki’s breakdown that day. The nerd even held him in a tight hug as he bawled his soul out.

But again, the pain doesn’t compare to the living proof right in front of his eyes now.

The hand he’s holding in between his is the one where an engagement ring adorns your beautiful finger. A ring that should have been from him, and not that other guy.

The very discreet little bump on your abdomen he got to feel when he caught you when you fell from the old ladder makes him boil with frustration. That should have been his little brat inside you, and not the other guy’s.

Bakugou Katsuki really feels like a sword has stroked right through the middle of his heart.

And it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s going to die watching from afar how the love of his life is being united to another guy. Well, you already are.

Ah. 

Katsuki didn’t mind the cold. The quirk his parents gave him made him run hot most of the time. 

Yet, from now on, Katsuki thinks he’s going to feel the piercing cold everyone talks about in winter forever.

He thinks he’s going to hate the cold now.

[sunshineszn]

Deku's first day on the job is going great

[sunshineszn]

“her lovely hazel eyes”

“her breasts and perky rosy, pink nipples”

“for her petite physique”

Well damn , give her a name and we’re good to go 💀 the reader having a backstory , yeah no problem it’s cool but why do you have to describe the physical traits ? Just make an OC

Back story + physical description = OC

Back story + no physical description = reader insert

[sunshineszn]

This is what I mean when I say I like nerds🫢

[sunshineszn]

My fallopian tubes are tingling

Artist: thatsallitchief on IG

[sunshineszn]

Either he is utterly clueless, or he’s toying with you because he knows you think he’s attractive. You don’t know which is worse.

Choso, your roommate, walks around the kitchen of your shared apartment, preparing breakfast like he does every other weekend—when he works less hours due to his little brother staying over for a few nights. In the living room, you can hear Yuuji and best friend, Megumi, playing video games together and enjoying the slow Saturday morning. 

You should focus on that and maybe offer to play games with them- No, you should focus on the smell of the food. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, something sweet that’s baking in the oven. However, you don’t focus on any of that, and your feet remain glued to their spot at the kitchen doorway, and your eyes stay locked on your roommate. 

Choso was only wearing sweatpants. You can tell that he was fresh out of a shower. His hair is left down this morning, and you can’t help but think that it looks even better that way, especially with the dark strands of his bangs still falling in front of his face. Then his upper body. Holy shit, his upper body. You knew Choso worked out often, sometimes with Satoru Gojo, but not once have you seen the results of his efforts in the gym this clearly. The muscles in his arms flex as he mixes something in a bowl, and your breath hitches slightly. Your gaze slowly drifts lower, taking in his toned chest, his abs, then settling on where his sweatpants hung loosely on his waist. Fuck.

You finally shake yourself out of it, then tear your eyes away from his body, deciding to look at the table instead. You clear your throat, and the sound of it gets his attention. “Morning,” he greets casually, facing you with his usual small smile. “Sorry if Yuuji and his friend woke you up. Megumi decided to stay the night at the last minute.” 

You smile in return, then shake your head. “Oh, that’s fine.” You walk close to the stove where he’s standing. “I don’t mind Megumi. He’s actually way quieter than the rest of Yuuji’s friends. What are you making in that bowl?” 

“Hm? Oh, this is some icing to go on top of the cinnamon rolls.” He grabs a clean spoon from a drawer, then dips it into the bowl. “I think it needs a bit more vanilla, but I’m not too sure. Could you also try it?” 

You nod, then reach to grab the spoon from him, but because your grip on it wasn’t secure, it nearly slips from your hand, resulting in some of the icing getting on Choso’s finger. You both laugh it off, then you sample the icing. 

As you’re tasting it, you see Choso checking on the bacon sizzling in a skillet. Then, he lifts his hand to his mouth that you’ve definitely stared at many times before. A split second before his lips close around his finger with the icing on it, you catch his tongue dart out to lick the icing. Then, he sucks it clean, releasing it with a light smacking sound. You nearly stop breathing. It’s so simple, so innocent, but it’s so damn–

“What do you think?” He asks as he heads over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“...Huh?” 

He looks at you, then points to the spoon in your hand. “The icing. What do you think?” 

Oh. That. 

Heat rises to your face, and you mask your sudden nervousness quickly. “You’re right. Just a touch more vanilla. I think a teaspoon will be perfect.” 

“Okay, thanks. I remember making it before, and…” Choso continues talking about the icing, but your brain tunes it out when you stare at him again. He was so attractive that it wasn’t fair. You’re certain that you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before. You promised yourself on the day you moved in that you wouldn’t fall for him. He worked a lot, and when he wasn’t working, he was a caring older brother to Yuuji. You assumed that he barely had time for anything else.

“Hey.” 

His low voice snaps you back to reality, and embarrassment creeps into your gut. “What was that? I’m sorry for being spaced out. I barely got any sleep last night,” you lie. 

You think he sees right through it, because he’s stepping closer to where you’re leaning against the counter. He places his hands on either side of the countertop, trapping you in between his arms—directly in front of him and nowhere to go. Your heart begins to race as he leans closer to you, the faint, fresh scent of his body wash filling your nose. The corner of his mouth slightly lifts, and the look in his dark eyes gives it away. 

He’s amused. 

“I asked if you could grab a bowl from the cabinet behind you so I could put the eggs in it,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a soft exhale. “No problem.” You turn around carefully, then lift your arm to open the cabinet, trying to pretend that you don’t literally feel him behind you. You grab a medium-sized bowl. “This one okay?” 

There’s silence, then you feel Choso’s gentle touch. His large hand holds your waist, and his other arm reaches up towards the shelf you took the bowl from, grabbing another one that was a bit larger. 

“I was thinking that this one would be better,” he whispers into your ear. 

You put the other bowl back before your slippery palm lets it fall, and Choso takes a step back and flashes a smile at you. “Nearly done with the food. Could you let Yuuji and Megumi know?” 

You do your best to hide how flustered you are, and nod. “Yeah, sure. I’ll go grab them. I’ll be back.” 

As you turn to leave the kitchen, you hear his quiet, amused chuckle, eventually drowned out by the sound of him putting some used dishes into the sink. 

Oh, he was definitely toying with you. 

-------

a/n: so do y'all know that one choso fanart of him wearing only sweatpants and making breakfast? yeahhhhhhhhhh

also ik we mostly hc him as being shy (and i love it) but there's something about him being the one doing the teasing.

[sunshineszn]

Thinking of writing a fic based on this scenario. I narrowed the list down to 4 guys but I still don't know which character I should pick. Poll time!

(I was so tempted to add a JJK man but there's already tons of content out there for them)

The ex that keeps calling your new boyfriend a bum and is lowkey waiting for him to mess up. So when he spots your new man that you seem to love oh so much cosied up with some random woman at a bar he frequents, he can't help but sneak a picture or two and "accidentally" sends the attachments to you followed by a message about how that never was and could never be him...but hey he's just sayin'

Aomine, Eren, Connie, Grimmjow, Gojo (let's just pretend he drinks okay), Geto, Ace, Toji, Worick, Sanemi, Obanai, Benimaru, Baji (most tokyo rev characters tbh lol) Tsukishima, Kuroo etc.

Doflamingo too if he's feeling petty.

[sunshineszn]

IZOU X FEM READER / NSFW WC: 3.9k CW: soft dom!izou, sub!reader, mouth fucking, izou puts lipstick on you and then ruins the look, he also drops the lipstick at one point so oops, hopefully it isn't expensive. *washes hands* A SUMMARY: You and Izou have always danced around the unspoken sexual attraction between the two of you. Now that you have him in your room, with a little confidence, you try to cross the line between friendship and more.

Izou floods your senses the moment he walks into your bedroom. The heady scent of his cologne; seductive, and simultaneously ambiguous. Its detailed description eluded you every time, the same way the meaning behind his smiles and lingering looks did. You could never make heads or tails of what Izo meant to you; of what you meant to him. The uncertainty of the ‘something’ that was shared between you would haunt you even in your sleep. You’d wake up from dreams you couldn’t remember, with your heart in your throat and the taste of doom in the back of your mouth. 

You feel that acrid taste on your tongue even now, as you observe him touch your belongings. His tapered fingers lightly tap the cosmetics you left littered on your vanity. It felt strangely intimate to watch him pick them up, one by one, his hawkish gaze inspecting every item with intense curiosity. The sharpness of his jaw, and the tapered end of his nose, his long straight lashes–it all was so beautiful you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

Izou’s curiosity finally settles on one of your lipsticks. He picks it up and uncaps it, slowly turning the mechanism at the bottom to reveal the treasure hiding inside the tube. It’s a vivid rouge red, brand new. You hadn’t used it yet. You were saving it for a special occasion; but as with things left on your court to do–the initiative was never there. Cowardice makes your tongue feel heavy, so your next words tumble out clumsily: 

“Do you like it?” He turns his face slightly to observe you, a thin well groomed eyebrow rising with his unspoken questions. They were always there. You could sense them hanging off the planes of his face, the knuckles of his beautiful fingers. There were always questions you felt he wanted to ask, answers he sought but neither you or him ever addressed the elephant in the room.

Two blind idiots, performing an uncoordinated dance to an audience of no one.

“It’s pretty,” he finally answers. Izou swallows, and you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. You take in a sharp breath as the desire to press your lips against his neck clouds your thoughts. The long shape of his neck is elegant, and his broad shoulders look muscular even under his loose yukata. The silhouette was a refined tease. It showed just enough to whet your appetite but the hidden secrets underneath its silkiness was a temptation you wished to know more of.

“You can try it on if you want,” you push on. Today Izou has agreed to help you get ready for the local summer festival. You were unsure how to wear your yukata, how to put up your hair or do your makeup. It was your first time, but everyone’s excitement about it infected you. Izou so kindly offering to help you only served to motivate you more. You fiddle nervously with the waist strap keeping your obi in place, trying not to pay too much attention to how Izou applied the lipstick on his lips.

It is a failed effort. Your dark eyes are honed in on the creamy lipstick; how it covers his bottom lip in color. He traces his top lip, the contrast between the red and the fairness of his skin makes his cupid bow all the more evident. He was a talking, walking piece of art. You had thought so even before. The cruel reminder makes you feel inadequate to be in his presence but when he turns to you with a small smile you feel it flutter away into nothingness.

The warmth of his playful grin soothes your ruffled feathers.

“Your turn,” he declares, and before you can decline him, he reaches out with a free hand to clasp your chin between thumb and index finger. “Open your mouth.” You stare up at him, heart hammering away between your ribs. There’s a darkness in his eyes you can’t look away from; and you fall into the abyss. He lets go of your chin only to press his thumb against the soft flesh of your bottom lip.

“I said open.” He presses down with some force and your lips part as you breathe in a sharp gasp. His lips stretch into a Cheshire grin. His dark eyes shimmer even in the dim lighting of the room. “That’s a good girl. It’s easier if you just listen to me.”

You nod subtly, afraid to move too much and damage his work. Izou drags the lipstick across your bottom lip. You watch him with his eyes downcast, his black eyelashes look so beautiful against his pale cheeks, you wish you could touch them. You both envied and desired his beauty. In more ways than one. He uses his knuckles under your chin to make you look higher up. 

“Look up, darling,” he says sweetly, carefully painting your top lip. “The shape of your mouth is so pretty. You should wear color on it more often.” Gently, he holds your chin to tilt your face from side to side. There’s a small frown settling between his brows as he purses his lips. Silent laughter shakes his shoulder. “Although it’s a shame it’s so small. No wonder you eat in such small bites.”

His smile turns crooked, and heavy. You feel his gaze on your lips, and your mouth runs dry. There it was again–that certain something that was never addressed. You had always toyed with crossing the line, with taking his bait but always feared having interpreted it all wrong.

But now he was in your room, and surely, this was flirting, wasn’t it? You lick your lips nervously, tasting the chemicals of the lipstick immediately on your tongue. Izou sucks his teeth noisily. You know he’s about to chastise you, perhaps apply more lipstick now that you’ve partially ruined his careful work. You know this and yet you can’t keep the heat away. You can’t stop from insane thoughts taking away your common sense. What if you crossed the line now? What if he crossed it with you?

“It’s small,” you tell him at last, reaching out for his wrist. He is still holding your chin in one hand, the lipstick in the other. You curl your fingers around his cold skin. “But there’s a lot I can do with it.”

Izou seems to be frozen. At least that’s the impression you get. You know he isn’t from the way his lashes flutter when he blinks, how his chest now rises a little bit quicker. 

“Is that so?��� he replies slowly, his thumb now drawing circles on the corner of your mouth. “As usual, you think very highly of yourself. It truly is so little,” he insists, squishing your face with his hand. Your cheeks push against each other, and your lips purse with his strength. It is uncomfortable to be in this hold like this, especially as he brings you a little bit closer to his face. You falter in your position, getting on your tippy-toes to keep from falling over. “What’s the best you can do?”

Your heart threatens to explode on you. You feel a painful surge of adrenaline taking over your chest before it turns into searing heat. It traverses through your veins, filling your extremities with tingling pleasure. You pull at  his wrist, and he releases your face. Slowly, you lower yourself as best as you can in your yukata, until you are kneeling on the ground in front of him.

“I-i can show you,” you stammer quietly, your own voice barely registering in your ears. Izou looks down at you, some of his ebony hair softly framing his face. Your lungs feel empty, so you take a deep breath; noisy and desperate. Izou tilts his head as he watches you. “If there’s anything you don’t like,” you turn your gaze away from him, as a flush takes over your face. It feels hot, and your eyes fill up with tears. You’re so embarrassed at yourself but now that you have taken it this far, it would be a shame to give up halfway. “You can always instruct me. I do well with guidance.”

There’s a moment of silence. It’s probably shorter than it feels, but it makes you think it’s eternal. You clutch your hands into fists, so tightly it becomes painful as your clipped nails start biting into your skin. You clutch them even tighter when Izou laughs. You look up sharply, eyes narrowed, and filled with unshed tears. The shame slowly turns to anger, and you begin to retract everything spoken until Izo reaches down with one hand, still standing before you.

His fingers ghost over your cheeks, cold and fleeting. His icy touch soothes the heat of your cheeks.

“You’re so sweet,” he says gently. His voice is melodic, and soft. “Do you promise?” he asks as he brushes a stray strand of hair away from your face. You nod once. Izo taps your nose with one finger. “Good. Well?” He asks you next. You look up at him perplexed. He tilts his head again, his brows knitted together in anticipation.

You blink up at him, unsure of what he was expecting of you. He looks down at himself, where his crotch would be under the clothing, and your mouth parts in acknowledgement. 

“R-right,” you stammer again, and reach out with trembling hands. You barely touch the fabric in front of him before Izou is sucking on his teeth again.

“Aht aht,” he chides, with a small shake of his head. “No, my darling. You can’t use your hands.” You look up at him, at a loss for words. He smiles down at you encouragingly. “You’ll only be using your mouth today. Do you think you can do that for me?” You nod again, and bring down your hands. You shuffle on the floor slightly, your knees painful against the hard floor. You know there will be bruises on them later, but it would all be worth it for as long as you can keep up your bravado.

The closer you move your face towards Izou’s crotch, the harder your breathing gets. You can hear yourself panting, feel the moisture of your own breath bouncing back against your face. You inhale the scent of his yukata, and detect his unique scent, mixed with soap. You hum lightly as you press your face deeper.

“Let me help you,” Izou declares. His voice is lower than before, and you can detect a slight tone of impatience. His hand is still gentle when he cups the back of your head. “It seems you’re having a hard time finding me.”

He chuckles lightly, when you yelp as his hips jut out towards you. Somewhere pressed against your cheek is a softness that begins to harden. You hungrily turn your mouth towards it. You kiss him through the cloth, feeling him harden slightly.

“Don’t worry about the lipstick,” he tells you, noticing how you seem to hesitate on adding pressure. “I don’t mind being dirty.”

Desire sits perilously at the pit of your stomach. You consider pushing it off the cliff, along with the rules of your arrangement–anything if it meant you could hold the weight of his cock in your hands. The fear of him walking away, and losing any and all opportunities to get closer to him was far greater than your perverse fantasy. You use your nose to push your way inside between the fabrics. You gasp at the sight of his exposed cock, half hard as it decides which way to lay. His balls look heavy already as they hang from his frame between his legs.

He must have heard your shock because he laughs even as he pushes on your head again, egging you on.

“Aren’t you lucky?” his voice finds its way to you, even with your blood pounding in your ears. “I’m not wearing any underwear today.”

Izou side steps, giving you more space between his legs. You angle yourself enough to drop a kiss on the inside of each thigh; a red lip mark left behind each time. There’s a faint scent of sweat that isn’t entirely unpleasant as you drag your tongue along his shaft. You bring it back down to toy with his balls. It quickly gets messy as you slurp him into your mouth, his soft grunts encouraging you even more.

“Don’t tease me, beloved,” he hisses, his hand still on the back of your head. You hear something small drop to the floor, as his other hand joins you. “Put them in your mouth already.” You open your mouth and ever so slowly scoop his sack into your mouth. “Nngh,” he grunts. You feel him stiffen slightly as you close your mouth slightly around him. “Yes, now suck. Hurry.”

Izou’s head snaps  back when you actually listen to him, when you finally give him the pleasure he wanted. The more you curl your tongue around his balls, the more his hips move, the more he just wants to hammer into that pretty little mouth of yours and ruin you forever. The idea of your lipstick smearing around your mouth and all over his cock is making him even hornier. He grabs your hair and pulls away suddenly.

“Move,” he orders you and you look up at him in a daze. Already your lipstick is smudged in one corner. Your cheeks are bright, and there is a hazy shine to your eyes that fill the pit of his stomach with heat. You had just started, and you were already halfway gone. He chuckles softly, and brushes the back of his fingers against one of your cheeks.

“Move over there,” he points at the bed. “Stay on the floor. Your back against it.”

You follow his instructions without a single word of disagreement. You scoot back until your back is against the mattress, leaving you nowhere to retreat. Izou lowers himself in front of you until he’s standing on his knees. Your heart runs faster as he pushes fabric aside to grab his own cock. His large hand pumps up and down, using his thumb to catch the bead of precum sitting at the tip.

“Open,” Izou commands as he moves his hand towards your mouth. You listen, of course. Izou pushes his thumb inside your mouth, and drags the precum across your tongue, and against the inside of one of your cheeks.

“Now suck. Make sure you don’t miss a drop.” You suck on his thumb as if you had been starved for days. Moaning even as you curl your tongue around his digit. Izou watches you with parted lips, his own breathing becoming heavier as he watches you.

“Look at you,” he whispers, his free hand around your throat. “I always knew you and I were the same.”

He pulls out his thumb from your mouth, and cups your cheek. He leans down to brush his nose against yours. His hand is surprisingly rough against your skin, as he brushes the side of your face with his palm. His breath smells sweet as he speaks against your mouth.

“So full of dirty desires, aren’t you?”

He kisses you next, forceful with closed lips at first. It isn’t long before his gentleness gives away. It splinters off as his tongue pushes past your lips. You moan into the kiss, your hands pressed against the floor. It’s sloppy, messy, wet and imprecise. It lacked all the elegance and refinement with which Izou usually carried himself. When he pulls away, you feel the coolness of the air on your drool covered chin. 

“I want you to open your mouth again,” he tells you, his cock once again in his hand. You swallow as you look at it, and take in its girth. Perhaps you had overestimated yourself. You curl. your fingers into fists and press them against the cold ground. As your mouth parts, Izou adjusts himself on his standing kneeling position, moving closer towards you. He taps your bottom lip with the tip of his cock. “Come on, darling. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

You open your mouth as wide as it goes, and flatten your tongue. Izou slides into your mouth slowly. You focus on breathing through your nose as you feel him fill  up your mouth. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groans, pushing his hands on the mattress on either side of your head. Izou snaps his hips slowly at first, making sure not to push too deep or too fast.

You watch his face carefully, deeply focusing on breathing through your nose and not gagging as he fucks your mouth. Your head bounces slightly against the  mattress with every thrust he gives into your mouth. It pushes you against him, helping him inadvertently reach deeper into your mouth each time. His lashes flutter slightly every time he pushes into your mouth. There’s a slight wrinkle of his noise every now and again you can’t decipher the reason behind until he speaks.

“Careful,” he hisses with a curl of his lip. Your heart seizes with temporary fear. “Your teeth.” He pulls out of your mouth, and you wipe the drool of your mouth with the back of your hand. Red smears against your cheek and against your arm as you do so. Izo smiles.  “Curl your lips, and relax. You have to relax, love.”

You nod repeatedly, feeling at the moment as if that was all you were good at. Izou taps his cock against your mouth again, and  you open your mouth, taking his instructions and applying them. Izou seems satisfied with your efforts this time as he picks up the pace. His hips now brutally snapping in rhythm as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat. You gag repeatedly, and your eyes water as you fight your gag reflex. You fear the worst when you taste something in the back of your throat, so you shut your eyes tightly, curling your tongue and sucking as hard as you can.

Izou cries out, and he pushes even deeper. Your eyes fly open as you swear you feel him trying to shove himself down your throat. 

“That’s it,” he breathes out harshly between pants. There’s a soft moan in the back of his throat he tries to smother. “That’s it. Look at me.”

The head of his cock keeps hitting the back of your throat. There’s a burning soreness there that  you know will make it painful to talk tomorrow but you don’t care. You don’t care about your achy knees, or how tears slide down your cheeks. You don’t care that you can barely see Izou’s silhouette through your wet lashes. All you care is that he’s kneeling there, using your mouth, his fingers now buried in your hair. All you care about is that  you can hear him moaning softly, saying your name so quietly you think it’s a dream.

Although he’s fucking your mouth at a brutalizing pace, it doesn’t stop you from fantasizing. It doesn’t keep the thoughts of him pounding in your pussy just like this away. You wish he would; desperately. Your panties are soaked, and you try to rub your legs together, the sensation silky and pleasurable against your folds and inner thighs. You try to bring your hands to the front of your yukata, to feel any part of yourself–breasts or the center between your thighs but Izou grabs your hair and shakes it in his hold.

“I said no hands,” he growl, still fucking into your mouth as he frowns down at you. “Hnng. Not even to touch yourself.” His own thoughts and speech are interrupted by pleasure. He groans gently before he can proceed again. “Is that understood?” You nod and relax your jaw once again.

You moan as he continues fucking your mouth, moans that almost sound like sobbing. It’s just when you think you won’t be able to speak for days that Izou’s hips start faltering.

“I’m close,” he mutters, his hold on your hair tightening.

Izou looks down at your mouth. He takes in the way he fills you up, how your mouth can barely take him in. He bets your cheeks feel sore from being stretched, that your jaw might even lock up later. There’s a perverse joy that comes with this knowledge. The same way that ring of red around the very base of his shaft brings. Just knowing he had been deep in that little mouth of yours, so deep that you have shed tears brings him closer to his orgasm.

It’s not your mouth, or your smeared lipstick, your dirty cheeks stained with mascara and tears that does him in; but it’s your wet eyes, your curled lashes tapered with tears. It’s that look of reverence even as you sob on his cock that snaps the core deep in his belly. His breath is ragged, as he cries out gently when he cums inside your mouth.

You make no intention to move, and he grips your hair tightly. “Don’t swallow,” he tells you sternly even as his hips stutter. As he slowly comes with his high, he pulls out of your mouth slowly. “Don’t spit it out either.” You nod quietly, bulging cheeks and pursed lips make you seem innocent and adorable. Izou laughs. He caresses your cheek gently with one hand, his other goes to cup your chin. “Open. Show me first.”

You open your mouth, curling your tongue to hold on to his semen. He looks at it, milky white as it pools on the center of your pink tongue. Izou smiles and nods once. “You can swallow now.” He watches you push it down, and notes the wrinkle of your nose as you do so. He takes no offense to it, and instead pats your head gently. “You did such a wonderful job.” Izou kisses your forehead gently, and then your cheek. “Don’t move.”

You don’t follow with your eyes as he leaves. You’re still delirious from lust, and slightly unsatisfied. Something you could easily blame Izou for but decide to just concede this time. Besides,  your  legs were tingling as they had fallen asleep. You untuck them from under you with a small cry, and beat them gently with your fists as you try to get some blood circulating back into them again. Izou returns in the middle of your efforts with a cup of tea in his hands.

“Oh dear,” he says with raised brows. His voice sounds heavy with concern. He lowers himself to your level, and presses the cup of tea against your hands. “Here, drink this first. It has plenty of honey,” he helps you bring it to your mouth.

Izou watches you with a frown, and doesn’t let go until he is satisfied that you’d do as he says. As you start drinking on your own, Izou starts massaging your legs.

“Let me take care of you this time.” He looks up from where he is exposing one leg from under your yukata.

Despite what had transpired, you somehow find it in you to be embarrassed at the feel of his cold fingers sliding against the back of your calf. He brushes the tip of his index finger right across behind your knee. You shudder under his touch. His eyes take life, and you see the smile begin to curl itself upwards.

“Since you already will be without voice come tomorrow. Why don’t I show you what my mouth can do?”

[sunshineszn]

Good night jjk nation

[sunshineszn]

should i save her? i wnna be saaaaved

🎬✧ portgas d ace x fem!reader

was it a coincidence? or were you soulmates? interesting how the two of you always manage to end up together… fireman!ace saves your panties from a house fire. unfortunately there’s no smut in this, crazy i know. mostly fluff and ace being a cutieeeee. i love him lots & don’t think he would fuck you for the first time being intoxicated… that being said, fic contains// drinking, a lil smooch, cuddles, ace being a lil tease, all that…

☁️ 𐙚 . ˙ 𖧧 ₊ ˚ 🐇

“shit shit shit!” you panicked, trying to put out the burning fire with a measly cup water you had on hand, unfortunately, that only seemed to cause it to burn brighter. the water evaporated almost immediately, and with every passing second, it got worse. the clothes that were messily piled up on your dresser were now fully inflamed, and the wood took on enough heat to finally catch fire.

“oh my fucking god? where’s my goddamn phone!” there was no reason to try and put out the fire yourself, you’d only end up getting hurt. ‘cursed candle’ you scoffed while scurrying around your smokey room looking for your phone. even if it was your favorite scent, you knew you should have thrown out that stupid candle your ex got for you.

after flipping through the blankets on your bed, you found it, immediately you dialed the fire department. “hello? hello! yes! please there’s a fire at my house my address is. . .” you’d hope they’d make it there soon, the smoke stared to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t know if you could make it out, chemicals filled your lungs and it was getting harder to breathe. . .

. . .

you felt strong arms carrying you, woodsy musk and smoke filled your senses. the man placed you down in the back of the fire truck with plenty of water before rushing back into your fire-filled house to see if there were any more casualties to look out for. luckily enough, you lived alone.

shortly after, he came back to you. he tore off his headset and revealed his soft, freckled face. you were taken aback, he might as well be your knight in shining armor for saving you, he had stains of soot covering his cheeks but still looked so pretty. . .

“i couldn’t save them all but. . . i managed to get a few.”

he held up a couple pairs of your cute lacy panties, blood rushed to your face once you noticed what they were. you were quick to snatch them away—your face fell hot with embarrassment. it really didn’t help that the man was attractive, you couldn’t even look at him. “oh! it’s fine, thank you…” the tension was thick and awkward, the man starred at you trying to comfort you on your losses.

“we managed to put out the fire, miss. your room is pretty much fine, but the dresser didn’t quite make it. . . i saved what i could.” he sighed—holding up some more of your lounge wear. he seemed sad he couldn’t save everything but you were grateful nonetheless that he did everything he could.

“do you have somewhere you can stay while we get everything cleaned up?” he peered at you, cute freckled face and dark eyes held your gaze.

“uhmm yea, i do. thank you.”

“the pleasures all mine, get some rest and please, no more candles.” he let out a hefty laugh before giving you back your delicates. yea, definitely no more candles.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

it’s a couple days later and you’re back in the comforts of your now, fire-free home. living alone was super easy, you got to do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. if you didn’t wanna do something, that’s perfectly fine. movies and snacks all day, and that’s usually how it always went but today you had something planned.

about a week ago you had made an appointment to get your ears pierced, you favorite tattoo shop was having a flash sale on all lobe piercings so you thought it would be best to schedule ahead.

the studio was surprisingly quiet for a weekend, a few teens who were there for the flash sale and one other person, but he was faced down and getting a tattoo stenciled on across his very sculpted back.

“oh hey! i know you.” his head perked up once he heard the chime of the studio door, he watched as you stepped inside.

‘please god, tell me it isn’t him. fuck, it’s totally him.’ he smiled warmly at you, kind eyes curling up and he showed all his teeth—how could you not forget such a cute face.

“no you don’t.” you were quick to answer, but he retaliated.

“um yeah… yes i do! i saved you from that fire! don’t you remember? all your panties? sorry i couldn’t save ‘em all.” his lips quirked up slightly as he still felt bad, but his non-filtered reenactment of the events earned some confused reactions from the staff and other customers that happened to be in earshot.

“did you have to bring that up again? i told you not to worry about it, ‘m just happy i have my house back.”

“can’t i make it up to you? and i never got your name. . . ‘panties’~” he snicked at his nickname for you, seeing you get flustered made it all worth while for him. he enjoyed seeing your petrified face as he egged you on.

“shut up, and shouldn’t you be staying still? lay your ass back down.” you gestured to the table he was perked up on, the artist seemed annoyed at his movements.

“ahh, you’re right sweetheart. but, your name? then i’ll promise to let you be. . . ‘panti—’”

“y/n! it’s y/n. happy?”

“very.” he smirked your way and laid back in position effortlessly once he got his answer. the artist sighed and got back to work.

you rolled your eyes trying to suppress the smile that was creeping on your lips, he was crazy. with being a fireman you thought it was unprofessional to bring up such topics in public, but you had to admit—you kinda liked it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

you thought you might have missed it, his long raven locks swaying as he made his way towards you, even in your drunken state, you knew it had to be him. why does he keep showing up at the most random places? this time though, he was fully determined to make his way to you and just talk. the distance was small but he stumbled all the way over. soon, you were greeted with the pretty fireman.

“wow you’re really drunk right now, aren’t you?” you couldn’t stop the giggles as you held the edge of his shoulder to keep him upright and standing, he swayed lightly with the music in the background as he sang incorrect lyrics softly to you.

you couldn’t help but smile, he was silly like this, maybe it was the drinks in your own system catching up with you but he looked really good right now.

“no mmm not. . . you’re jus really blurry-”

he let out a few of his own laughs, touching and talking with you for sometime, he really liked you.

“y/n.” he held you tight, catching himself on you before he could fall.

you were surprised he remembered your name, i’d been about a week since your last encounter at the tattoo shop. that day, he had introduced himself as ace. portgas ace in fact, lead role in the fire department in his city. he made sure to make that a know fact in hopes to impress you.

“can you take me home? think i’m too ddrunk.”

you blatantly agreed, he looked a mess. and besides, you did owe him, technically. your arm snaked around his making your elbows meet, but he shook you off. he mumbled something you couldn’t quite make out. but instead, his big hands stumbled to find your own, interlocking your fingers and he squeezed them tightly as to say he’s ready to follow you.

his simple actions had an effect on you, holding hands always seemed to be more intimate rather than something simple, like a kiss. his warmth made your tummy do flips, and his big muscles—his strong hands and arms were so close, you felt so small next to him.

you tried to take your hands from his but he whined. he missed your touch.

“wait, let me call order an uber. i’ll be fast i promise.” you found the closest car to come pick the both of you up, you just needed his address. you tried to hand him your phone, “can you type in your address? here take this.”

he groaned again. “mmmuhggg y/nnn—can’t we just go back to yours?? can’t type.” as the words slurred from his lips, they curled into a smirk. little shit, you knew he was playing it up a bit. fuck it—it’s late and it’s cold, you were ready to leave. now, you just have a friend coming with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as you stepped into the coldness of night, you and ace stumbled through the streets to meet with the driver—his natural warmth kept you from shivering as he held you so close. little touches and sweet laughs were shared as you climbed into the backseat, ace stumbled along behind you, tripping on the doorstep as he made his way to sit next to you. the driver glanced back, seeing giddy intoxicated couples wasn’t out of the norm for him, the driver found the two of you endearing.

the car soon became a temporary haven for you, ace’s laugher sounded heavenly as it meshed with the purring of the car engine.

his rough hands found themselves attached to your hips, slowing rubbing up and down. with every passing second, you couldn’t help but grow attached to him. you’ve never met some like him. he was just so different from any other guy you’ve met, from his endless teasing to his charisma—how you always managed to end up together was a mystery.

he snuggled up next to you getting real close—he muttered in your ear, “wanted to tell you you looked pretty tonight,, mm watched you for awhile but was a little nervous.”

a blush crept onto your cheeks hearing his sweet nothings, ‘he was nervous?’

you felt his warmth radiating as he leaned in closer to you. his breath tainted with the smell of alcohol as his lips were millimeters from yours, but the car suddenly came to a stop. the driver interrupted just as they were about to touch. your stomach sank, you were ready to know what they felt like.

the driver turned around, oblivious to the romantic tension, and broke the silence, “here’s your stop folks, thank you and have a safe night.”

you both exchanged a look, a mixture of frustration and amusement, before gathering your things and stumbling out of the car. he soon drove off, leaving you standing on the sidewalk with a shared understanding. you hurried to get your keys and unlock the door.

as the door creaked open, you ushered him inside, the atmosphere filled with unspoken anticipation. once the door closed behind you, the playful glint in his eyes returned, and with a teasing smile, he quipped, “ahhh alone at last~ now, where were we?”

how cliche.. but that seemed to be very on brand for him—cute.

without waiting for an answer, he closed the gap and pulled you into his firm chest. this time, there were no interruptions—just the warmth of a long-awaited first kiss from your knight in shining armor.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

he’d be such a cute bf stawp

[sunshineszn]

The ex that keeps calling your new boyfriend a bum and is excitedly waiting for him to mess up. So when he spots your new man that you seem to love oh so much, cosied up with some random woman at a bar he frequents, he can't help but sneak a picture or two and "accidentally" sends the images to you followed by a message about how that never was and could never be him...but hey he's just sayin'

Aomine, Eren, Connie, Grimmjow, Gojo (let's just pretend he drinks okay), Geto, Ace, Toji, Worick, Sanemi, Obanai, Benimaru, Baji (most tokyo rev characters tbh lol) Tsukishima, Kuroo etc.

Doflamingo too if he's feeling petty.