#Even when they try to resolve it normally it doesn’t last

[lygma-nygma]

How the Robins handle familial conflict:

Damian: Violence.

Stephanie: Violence.

Tim: Starts trying to have a conversation with- I’m just kidding. Violence.

Jason: Violence.

Dick: It doesn’t matter because eventually it’s going to end in violence.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere DILF! Headcanons

Warnings: Obsessive Behaviour, Non-Explicit Implications of Smut, Implications of Infidelity, Age Gap, Non-Consensual Surveillance, Mention of Assault, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

♡ Yandere DILF who has always had everything he could ever want handed to him on a silver platter: women, highly paid positions in some corporation or another, wealth – etc.

♡ Yandere DILF who, before today, never actually thought love existed. True love, that is.

♡ Yandere DILF who, even with a beautiful wife to his name, one he settled for before because he thought that was the normal thing to do – what was expected of him – has never felt his heart shutter or his cheeks set ablaze with the anxiety of first love, making the whole concept null. Void.

♡ Yandere DILF whose life changes the second he meets you – whose world begins turns upside down as he spots you sat on his sofa, his wife beside you, speaking with kind, smiling eyes.

♡ Yandere DILF whose interest, for the first time in his entire life, is piqued, and whose urge to pursue any information he can get his hands on is ignited.

♡ Yandere DILF who is convinced that it’s only to extinguish this newfound interest in the beautiful stranger in his home.

♡ Yandere DILF whose wife gives him the perfect guise to do so – to “get to know you,” just as she requested – seeing as you are their new babysitter, after all.

♡ Yandere DILF with the perfect house, a well-paying job, a loving family and good looks, feels as if he has nothing but his image of the ideal suburban father when he sees you, when he knows that, regardless of how wrong it is, he must have you.

♡ Yandere DILF whose resolve to remain loyal to his wife cracks every time he hears you call him “Sir” or “Mr. Laurier”.

♡ Yandere DILF whose thoughts become increasingly centric of you the longer he knows you, yet knows nothing of you save for whatever his wife tells him, a finite, human resource he can only mine so much before she becomes suspicious.

♡ Yandere DILF who, for the first time, feels as if he is the pursuer rather than the pursued.

♡ Yandere DILF who initially tries to fight this growing infatuation of who you could be – who you are – and tries to keep his dear, sweet wife in mind. One which he cares little for.

♡ Yandere DILF who finds himself having discovered loopholes in his own logic by, quite simply, for brief samples of memory, replacing his wife with you.

♡ Yandere DILF, whose mind has been buzzing with you for the last month, just before going out for the evening, considers “falling ill” to have an excuse to stay at the house with you, to talk to you, to touch you. To see what made you so special as to drive him up the wall.

♡ Yandere DILF whose idea crumbles as he realises such a plan would entail him spending time with (and potentially being caught by) his two children, for whom he held no particular affection.

♡ Yandere DILF who is drip-fed information in the time between you arriving and he and his wife leaving, from which he gleans only shards of a larger puzzle that paints no clearer a picture of the mysterious younger person who has so seamlessly captured both his heart and his attention.

♡ Yandere DILF whose mind doesn’t recoil as the first thought – image – of you doing something less than decent with him, born from you bending over to pick something up that fell from the kitchen counter, giving him a view he’d previously tried to avoid for his own sanity’s sake.

♡ Yandere DILF who has to try and look his wife in the eyes as that picture of you – and others which emerge from the cracks in his mind – remains with him for the entire evening.

♡ Yandere DILF who has to resist the urge to take you into his arms and bury you in his bedsheets, or drape you in his coat, on the rare occasion you’d fall asleep on the sofa, his children safely tucked away in bed and exhaustion having taken you somewhere far from here.

♡ Yandere DILF who can’t help the dangerous thought that you need a protector – him – to protect you from other boys your age who would gladly take advantage of your vulnerable state.

♡ Yandere DILF who unabashedly succumbs to those same fantasies of heroism and lust in an isolated private bathroom stall at work.

♡ Yandere DILF who can’t help but begin to wonder if he’d be your first; your first kiss, your first love, your first time, and if you’d take to him as strongly as he’d taken to you.

♡ Yandere DILF who, after many months, many yearning, daydreaming, dragging months, eventually receives the God-given opportunity to invite you into his house when you swing by for something other than your job – to pass on a message to his wife, or something or other – while she’s out shopping and his children are at school.

♡ Yandere DILF whose heart palpitates in ways it never did for his wife – or any partner, for that matter.

♡ Yandere DILF who actually felt as if what he said and did here mattered, that you would not be so quick to overlook any of his transgressions as his many conquests before you had.

♡ Yandere DILF who offers you a drink and, just for a second, has the nasty little thought to spike it, to whisk you away somewhere where it will only ever be the two of you. Then thinks better of it since he knows you will be missed.

♡ Yandere DILF who considers offering – insisting – a glass of whiskey, much like the one he’s poured for himself. ‘To be hospitable’, is what he’d tell himself. Though, he knows the true reason; that being to excuse anything unsavoury that may occur in your inebriated state, absolving both of you of guilt if the instigator was in his system, too. Despite his ability to hold it undoubtedly exceeding yours.

♡ Yandere DILF who, after you decline the beverage, claiming to be ‘in a hurry’, sits with you as if you were an idol, and finally comes to know your likes, dislikes, preferences for music and weather and everything outside and between purely by making you forget why you had to leave so soon to begin with.

♡ Yandere DILF who desperately draws your attention from the setting sun outside, or distracts you from checking your phone and seeing how long you’d been there, how long ago you were supposed to have left.

♡ Yandere DILF who only realises the age gap between the two of you when you tell him it was your birthday recently, and divulge your age and the gifts you’d received, making him feel, for a brief moment of true lucidity, wrong for all he has thought of and done in the name of you.

♡ Yandere DILF who is taken aback when you ask him about himself, and seem to show such a vested interest in his answers – his interests. Rather than his body count or his salary. Especially when all he’s been talking about is you.

♡ Yandere DILF who only falls deeper into this pit of obsession, feeling himself having to fight the urge to sit closer to you as each hour ticks by.

♡ Yandere DILF whose resolve dissolves, losing the battle as you look at him with nothing less than sheer enthusiasm for everything he’s saying, hanging on his every word in a way that his wife seemed to have forgotten. And, inching closer, his knee touches yours ever so gently, his arm sliding round the backrest of the sofa and encircling you like a snake.

♡ Yandere DILF who, for the first time, finds himself pining for even a morsel of accidental contact, of a misplaced brush of your hand against his side, to feel you touch him.

♡ Yandere DILF who, by the end of the afternoon, just as his wife returns, sees you notice the time and rush to hurry away, a cold aura gripping him as your glistening presence evacuates. His mood, inflated with what he could construe as no less than joy, deflates in a heartbeat.

♡ Yandere DILF who, as you urgently relay the message to his wife, stands nearby, hands in his pockets, waiting for something – anything – to happen.

♡ Yandere DILF who, as if being struck through the heart by Cupid’s arrow, feels his body go rigid as you rush to him and bestow upon him a small hug, no obvious intent behind it as you gift one to his wife, too, who, seemingly not so lovestruck, is much more receptive.

♡ Yandere DILF who, that night, chides himself for not having taken you into his arms, who makes love to his wife to forget his lapse in action. And he sees your face – your body – instead of hers, hears your voice in her stead, calling him by his name in a way he could only hope to make you one day.

♡ Yandere DILF who, finally, with the know-how, begins buying you small gifts; nothing too grandiose as to rouse the suspicion of you or his wife; just acts of implied selflessness you initially refuse as you tell him “Your kindness is reward enough !”

♡ Yandere DILF who knows you’re only being polite, seeing as he’d also begun to increase your wage (without his wife’s knowing), telling you that you’re “a hard worker,” “deserving of much more than this.”

♡ Yandere DILF who wants to give you so much more than the gift he holds behind his back for you – who wants to give you himself and all that he could provide for you.

♡ Yandere DILF who doesn’t take your modesty for an answer and gives you your late birthday present; a plush toy.

♡ Yandere DILF who relinquishes its purpose to you; “To keep you safe if ever you’re scared. Or even just alone or upset.”

♡ Yandere DILF whose heart almost explodes as your face lights up in a smile when you take the bear into your arms, your fingers brushing his, and hold it tightly to your chest. He can see your nostril twitch as the purposefully placed scent of his cologne reaches your senses.

♡ Yandere DILF who feels something South of his logic twitch in his pants as your mouth forms around his name.

♡ “Thank you, Mr. Laurier,”

♡ Yandere DILF whose lips curl into a smile, his eyes catching the camera within the bear’s.

♡ “Please,” he says, shedding his coat, having chosen a light-coloured shirt to reveal the physique he’s maintained just for you. ♡ “Call me Dominic.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[toruro]

— ✧ back to december

a part of flower me with love ... an hhu unit x flowers collection !

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers

description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.

inspired by back to december by taylor swift!

tags: miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr though), big dick mingyu, sex in a car >_<, riding, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty), creampie :3

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: happy birthday @gyuswhore!!! this fic is for em but if not em and ur reading it i hope u enjoy too. this is like 2/3 plot and 1/3 smut if anyone cares

Normality is bliss.

That’s what you used to tell yourself. That’s what you used to believe.

Normality was bright mornings, crisp air, slow walking down the main street, inhaling the ambrosial scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, and slipping under the fairy lights that hang over the door. It was the warm sound of the overhead bell ringing, permeating laughter in the cafe from all customers, and daisies in a pot by the entrance.

Normality was Mingyu. His bright laugh as you approach the counter, sweet voice as he playfully asks you what drink you’d like, to which you roll your eyes and respond with, “You already know, don’t you?” It was the chuckle he would let out, the wink he flashed at you, murmuring the words, “It’s on the house” (because with Mingyu, it was always on the house), the thanks you give him before stepping back.

Normality was the latte he handed you, rough yet ginger fingers brushing over your palm as he warned you, “Careful, it’s hot,” and the giggle you let out when you stepped back and asked how his morning was going. It was Mingyu telling you nothing special happened yet. It was Mingyu suggesting that you two hang out at the field after he’s done with work. It was you grinning and agreeing in an instant, but only under the condition that he picks you up after your class.

Normality was bliss until four months and twenty-two days ago.

Now, normality hurts like a bitch.

Your mother glances at you from the corner of her vision as you rummage through the fridge. “What’re you looking for?”

“Some bread,” you murmur. “Was really craving a tomato sandwich … Damn, we’re seriously out of white bread?” you ask, giving up with a sigh as you close the door and face her.

She shrugs. “If it’s not in the fridge then I guess so. We’re low on produce too actually … I’d be surprised if you find tomatoes in there too,” she says. You purse your lip, shuffling through the different rows of cabinets to find something to throw together to take for lunch as your mother continues to speak. “You think you could stop by the grocery store after class today and pick up some stuff?”

“Yeah sure,” you reply casually.

“Ah, I wish Mingyu still stopped by with the groceries,” your mother says, and the sudden mention of his name has you halting your movements as you reach for a croissant, before you inhale deeply and go back to doing your own thing.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, clearing your throat after the word comes out horsley.

“You know why he stopped doing that?”

You try not to think about how you still haven’t told your mother that you and Mingyu don’t talk anymore.

“Uhh, I guess uni’s been getting to be a lot of work,” you tell her. “We’re both taking way harder classes so, uh, I guess he doesn’t have the time.”

“Hmm, yeah makes sense. You’re always swamped up in that room of yours ‘cause of work too … haven’t seen you two hang out in a while actually.”

You chew on your lip, staring down at your little bag for lunch and the croissant that sits inside. You wonder if you’ll even have the appetite to eat anything today after this conversation.

“We’re just busy. It’s harder to talk now.” It’s not entirely a lie. Grabbing the bag and picking up your backpack, you turn to face your mother who’s scrolling on her phone. “I’m gonna go now. My first class is starting soon.”

Now, normality is huffing as you get into your car, wishing you had a coffee next to you, but being too full of cowardice to head over to the cafe.

(“Go to a different cafe!” is what common sense would tell you, but common sense doesn’t listen to a love that has been betrayed. No other latte tastes the same, but you know that’s only because no other latte has been made by Mingyu.)

You pick up groceries on the way home.

Now, normality is staring at the daisies that are on display as you walk through the front doors of the store and reminiscing. It’s wondering what once was, and what could have been, if you decided to keep your silly feelings to yourself.

Normality is regretting. Regretting ever opening your mouth and telling Mingyu four months and twenty-two days ago that you loved him, and that you had loved him for not one, not two, not five, but ten damn years, because that was when you two met, and you always loved Kim Mingyu, but you should have known that not once did he love you back. Not how you would’ve wanted anyways.

Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if—

Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries.

You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.

Directing your attention back to the list you were sent on your phone, you hum lowly to yourself as you push your cart through the aisles. Checking items off your notes app, you exist with just yourself, your tomatoes, and fresh daisies as you try and finish these groceries before it gets too late into the evening.

Staring at your screen, you almost don’t notice that the dairy aisle isn’t empty until you bump into someone. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly, “I—” The words get caught in your throat when you see just exactly who you’ve hit.

Averting your gaze quickly, you wonder if Mingyu will respond, but you choose to scurry away quickly instead, because as cowardly as it sounds, you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear his voice again.

You’re not sure why your heart beats so fast when you escape into another aisle. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t read the look on his face for the brief second that your eyes met.

(Ten years of being best friends and you somehow don’t know what he’s thinking. Can four months and twenty-two days really change a person that much? Or did you never know Kim Mingyu in the first place?)

When you get home, your mother asks you where you got the daisies from. You tell her Mingyu gave them to you, because you want to convince her that you two are still best friends, and maybe—just maybe—you’re trying to convince yourself of it too.

You decide to buy a latte five days later. Mingyu never worked the evening shifts, so you’re confident you’ll get one of the other’s as the barista if you walk in past 6pm. Seokmin’s always nice. He doesn’t make the latte’s as sweet as you like—more specifically, as sweet as Mingyu made them—but he’s kind and always cheery.

When you walk in today, the pot by the door is empty. There are no more daisies, and you wonder if this is what has become of normality.

Your eyes glaze over the familiar setting, breathing in the sweet, rusty smell of coffee, and you smile watching all the cafe-goers laugh along with each other in their seats. All is going well, and you’re telling yourself that maybe this new normal isn’t too bad. That you’ve lived with it for four months and twenty-seven days, and so you can live with it longer and—

Your heart plummets when you see who's working the register today.

Maybe you really never knew Kim Mingyu, because you swore he hated the evening shifts, but here he is with a neatly tied apron, smiling while he talks to some girl across the counter. And his toothy grin is so bright and you aren’t sure if you’re seeing things correctly because everything sound has turned to a white rush in your ears and your vision blurs because you are once again awarded the painful reminder that you are in love with Kim Mingyu.

You thought your heart broke right in two back in December, but you hear it crack in this moment and realize that this was the final blow.

There are tears in your eyes, and you don’t know how long you stand there, until you hear your name. Seokmin is calling for you, and when you look up there’s no girl at the counter and it’s just Mingyu and Seokmin staring at you.

And you wonder briefly if you should be glad that Mingyu looks concerned but you don’t have time to dwell on the fact because Seokmin calls for you again—“Hey, are you okay? You—you’re crying”—and fuck, you’ve just humiliated yourself, so with fat tears hitting the dark wood ground you turn on your heel and rush out the door.

You keep thinking and wondering and regretting and you hate it all because regret has become normality, but regret is not a bliss.

You walk down the street, and you keep walking and walking and walking until you realize you forgot where you parked the car but none of that matters because all you’re thinking about is Mingyu’s smile, and how he doesn’t smile at you anymore. And so you walk faster and cry a bit harder until you’re so far down the street you don’t even know where you are anymore but it doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you’ve become.

And there’s footsteps thudding behind you—are you going to get kidnapped now? Fuck, you’ve already had the most horrendous sequence of events that could possibly happen to you in the span of five minutes, and now it’s going to get worse? If this goddamn kidnapper could just target you any other day, then maybe you wouldn’t whip around with tearful eyes, shouting into the dark: “Please don’t kidnap me! I’ll go with you any other day but—Mingyu!?”

His tall figure is hunched over, hands over his thighs as he heaves for breath, craning his neck to look up at you. “Kidnap you? Why in the world would I kidnap you?” he asks through harsh breaths. “Fuck, you walk so fast,” he groans, finally standing up as you furiously wipe your tears away in an attempt to actually make sense of this situation.

“I—” You want to reply, but then it hits you that this is the first time Mingyu has spoken to you in four months and twenty-seven days, and the thought is dizzying. “I don’t know,” you tell him, because you really don’t know. You don’t know a damn thing.

Mingyu looks at you with a look that you, once again, can’t seem to read. “Sorry, I—I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, and anyone would be able to see through the lie but you’re hoping that Mingyu doesn’t pry any further. He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. “You can, uh, go back now,” you add, rubbing the back of your neck as you stare at the ground. “I’m okay.”

“You—you were crying.”

Opening your mouth to protest, you realize you can’t refute him now. Not when it was so painfully obvious. You choose silence instead, hoping that your apprehension will be enough to drive him away, although it only seems to egg Mingyu on.

You don’t expect the words he blurts out after a few moments of thickness.

“You don’t know how much I wish I could go back to December and change things.”

“Please don’t lie to me Mingyu,” you tell him, and he can just hear from the way you say his name that you are desperately pleading with him. When you finally look up at him with glossy eyes, he wonders how in the world he let things get this far.

“I’m not lying, I—I wouldn’t lie about this.”

“What do you mean by this, Mingyu? What is this?” You cover your face and begin to sob, but not without gasping out words between heavy breaths. “Please don’t do this to me, not again.”

And when you uncover your face and look at him again, he’s got some bewildered look on his face, and you can’t tell what he’s going to say next.

“The girl,” Mingyu starts to say. “That’s my cousin. She was visiting me at work and—”

“It’s not about the girl, Mingyu!” And that’s a bit of a lie because some part of it is about the girl but it’s mainly about you and it’s mainly about Mingyu—mainly about the two of you.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Sorry, I—you’re right.”

Silence once more, before you calm your breaths and shake your head. “You should head back, Mingyu.”

“No I—wait, I just—I’m not lying. I regret everything I did in December.”

“Ming—”

“No, please listen to me. I regret not telling you how I actually felt, but I was so confused,” he tells you, repeating your name. “I was confused and fucking terrified because if things didn’t work out for some reason, then I would’ve lost my best friend but—but I was fucking stupid and lost you anyways. And you know, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to talk to you so bad but then like last week, when I saw you in the grocery store, and—daisies.”

“Daisies?” You furrow your brows.

“Daisies. You had a bouquet of them in your cart,” Mingyu tells you, taking a step forward. “And I know how much you love daisies. Your favorite flowers in the world. I saw them in your cart and thought to myself, fuck, I missed my chance, because I thought you had them for someone else and—”

“They weren’t,” you blurt out. “I-I even told my mom you got me them,” you add bashfully, “because she doesn’t know we stopped … yeah.”

There’s a silence that sits between you two, but you’re starting to realize that silence has become normality and you are no longer content with that.

“Mingyu, do you love me?”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “More than you love daisies.”

You laugh through your drying tears. You laugh so hard it makes you cry no longer because of pain but because of happiness, and you shake your head and throw your arms around him. “Kim Mingyu, that is a bold statement.”

“What can I say?” he grins. “I’m a bold man.”

“Where was that bold man for the past four months and twenty-seven days?” you snort.

Mingyu raises a brow. “You’ve been counting?” For a moment your expression falls but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve been too.”

You two are quick to head back, Mingyu begging Seokmin to hold the first alone for the weekend before taking the wheel of your car and driving you both to your favorite field of daisies.

“Are we going to have sex for the first time in your car?” Mingyu asks with a chuckle, climbing into the backseat from one end while you pile in from the other.

Giggling, you meet his lips for a kiss as soon as the door shuts behind him, arms winding around his thick neck to bring him close. “The way you said that insinuates there we’ll be having more sex after this,” you tell him with a smile before diving back into another tongue twisting kiss.

“Hell yeah,” Mingyu groans against your tongue as you adjust to situate yourself over his lap, hips pressing dangerously close to his. “Gonna fuck you every day if I can. If you can handle that,” he adds.

You roll your eyes, pulling back to help yourself out of the cardigan and shirt you’re wearing. “What makes you think I can’t handle it?”

He only flashes you a toothy grin and quickly glances down at his groin area before winking at you. “You’ll see.”

“Kim Mingyu, you are a little shit,” you conclude despite the way your tummy churns at his insinuation, throwing off your shirt as Mingyu helps you out of a bra.

“I’m not little, that’s for sure … fuck, you’ve got the prettiest tits in the world,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer so he can plant his lips on the soft flesh. His mouth is warm, tongue tracing constellations over our skin before enclosing one of your nipples with his lips.

Slowly, his tongue traces circles around the stiffened nipple, teeth grazing over it ever so gently before biting down with slight force. “Ah!” you moan out, head thrown back as your hands travel up his neck and into his hair, fisting the thick, dark locks. “‘m sensitive, ‘gyu,” you tell him, shaky-breathed as he pulls his mouth off your tits with a slip popping sound.

“Sorry,” he says with a lazy smile. “Your tits are so nice,” Mingyu murmurs, bringing a hand up to squeeze over your other breast, tweaking the nipple in one hand as your hands begin to play with the hem of his tight fit shirt. “Fuck, can’t believe we didn’t fuck earlier. You know how much time we could’ve saved?” he says, pulling away just for a moment to peel the shirt off his body, revealing his firm, thick torso.

“I wonder whose fault that is?” You roll your eyes.

Mingyu frowns in response. “Don’t remind me … angel, take off your pants. Wanna finger you.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, because in an instant your hands are at the waistband of your pants as heat rises to your cheeks upon hearing his words. Just the thought of Mingyu’s thick, longer fingers inside your aching cunt is enough for it to pulse around nothing as you throw your pants to the side and shove your panties to reveal your core.

“Atta girl,”  he murmurs under his breath as you readjust yourself over his lap so that he can have better access between your legs. Slowly, he brings one hand up to your exposed cunt, bringing his middle finger to circle around your gaping hole. “Shit, you’re so wet, angel … so wet for me.”

“Just for you ‘gyu, just for you” you gasp out when he sinks one finger in, rough pads rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.

Now Mingyu occasionally entertains the outrageous idea that he’s well composed, but he’d be a fool to deny that, even though he can turn you to mush in the palm of his hand, you also have him wrapped around your little finger.

You only have to beg him once or twice for a second finger before he’s giving in, wanting nothing more than to spoil you until you can’t even remember what you were asking for in the first place. And naturally, when you finally tell him that you’re ready for more—ready for his cock—he can’t help but grin and comply.

“You think you’re ready?” he asks, slipping his fingers out and shoving them into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

“You think I’m not?” you mumble around his fingers. You pout a little and Mingyu chuckles, leaning in to give you a wet and sloppy kiss before lifting his hips a little.

“You’ll see angel … help me take this all off,” he tells you, and you’re quick to grab at his waistband and yank his pants and boxers down at the same time.

“What are you talking ab—oh.” The words dry on your tongue when you see his cock spring out, from underneath his boxers, the thickness slapping against Mingyu’s abdomen.

It’s fat and long and veiny in all the right places, heavy balls resting at the base of it, the reddish-pink tip smeared all over with his shiny, translucent white precum.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says with yet another chuckle, watching your face as you gaze down at his cock in awe.

“I-is it gonna fit?” you ask incredulously, eyes glancing back and forth between the smirk on Mingyu’s lips and the long length of his cock. Mingyu just shrugs and smooths his hands over your hips, your stomach, and then your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Your stomach flutters, cunt growing more and more needy and wet as the seconds tick by, and the way Mingyu’s tongue flicks against yours only heightens the feeling. When he pulls away, he settles his hands over your waist and directs you right over his cock, and something in you swells with pure arousal with the next words he says.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit. You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you breath out, steadying your position as Mingyu uses one hand to guide his heavy length so that the tip points upwards and presses right against you.

“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, and you moan as you feel him sliding against your folds in a slippery, sticky mess. “old onto me, yeah angel? If you want to stop just—”

“Say the word,” you finish for him, placing your hands on Mingyu’s bare shoulders as an attempt to steady yourself, breath hitching as his length pushes into your entrance. “Oh shit, ‘gyu!" you cry out as you begin to sink down on him.

Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes—you can’t even fathom how, even after all his prep, Mingyu still feels like he’s nearly splitting you in half.

“Fuck, pretty—you’re so fucking tight,” Mingyu grunts, helping you nearly impale yourself on his cock. “Fucking fitting inside you so well,” he praises as he bottoms out inside of you, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as you take deep breath.

Mingyu knows he’s big—knows it’s hard to fit him inside of you—and he’s feels so fucking lucky that he has you—so willing to take all that he’s giving—sucking him in and whining for more. He waits a few moments, only listening to the way your heavy breaths start to grow lighter, until you’re whimpering a soft, “‘gyu.”

He wastes no time in jerking his hips upward, shifting inside of you and battering the inside of your soft walls. You bite down on his shoulder as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts, choking back soft sobs as you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each movement.

“Holy shit,” Mingyu grunts as you begin to bounce on his lap, his length slipping out of you halfway before being plunged right back in with a sopping mess growing on his thighs.

You whine loudly at the overwhelming pleasure that takes over your body, lifting your head up so you could look at Mingyu with your mouth agape and hair stuck all over your burning face, a sheer layer of sweat starting to envelope both your bodies.

Soon, both of your movements begin to grow erratic and sloppy, hips jamming into each other so hard you’d be surprised if you even have the ability to walk tomorrow. You now know why Mingyu was concerned about fucking every day.

“You g’na cum soon pretty? Cum all over my cock? I can feel it angel, can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me.”

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you manage to gasp out, “Yeah, ’m gonna cum—feels so good, so full, so—fuck!”

Mingyu’s cock pulses inside of you and that’s when every detail seems to be heightened to a thousand—as your orgasm racks through you, you seem to feel every curve, every vein, dragging in and out of you to such detail that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream out his name.

Mingyu watches you fall apart, surrendering to bliss, and the way your hips are sporadically swiveling over his, your pussy’s wetness coating and creaming his cock has him going into a frenzy. Frantically, he begins to snap his hips faster up into you, your soft moans of overstimulation pushing him to his end faster than he can ever imagine. Watching the way he slides in and out of you is enough to have him cumming, shooting his hot, sticky load inside your warm cunt.

Riding out the last of his orgasm with soft rolls of his hips, Mingyu sighs contently at the feeling of you milking him dry, the both of you looking down at the wet, dirty mess you’ve made where the two of you connect, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

Both of you finally look up at the same time, grinning at each other, and you flop forward resting your head on his chest as he slowly combs his fingers through your hair, other hand running up and down your back.

“Why’d you start working the evening shifts?” you ask Mingyu after your breath has finally leveled. “I thought you hated those.”

“I did, but you stopped coming in the mornings, and I figured it was because of me. I hoped that maybe you would start coming in the evenings so I asked my boss to change my regular shifts just in case.”

“Oh wow, you really do love me.”

“I already told you I do! Even more than you love daisies, remember?”

[mondaymelon]

— "𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗯𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱!!" ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche x gn!reader:

⤷ synopsis: ah, poor reader's crush won't notice them!! the solution? ask your guy friend to pretend to be your partner, and perhaps that'll get them jealous... except-!? ⤷ cw: fluff, highschool!au, possesive + overprotectiveness, ykyk the whole package

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

"C'mon, just for one week...?"

"Have you finally gone mad?"

XIAO's words come out as more of a scoff, if anything. You can see the way that his expression forms a scowl that he's less than pleased at your suggestion. "You want me to fake date you for a week?"

Sheepish, you nod. "...Please?"

"Because you want your 'crush' to get jealous?" You don't get why he's put that in quotations, but you nod along, slightly confused. Xiao's expression only darkens, for some inexplicable reason. What, have you done something to offend him?

Desperate, you recall your last resort. "Well," you begin, voice unsteady as you try to sound as nonchalant as possible. With a shrug, you sigh. "If you're not willing, I can always find someone e-"

"I'll do it."

Ah, there was the Xiao you knew. Aloof, yes. Cold, yes. But not willing to admit he was inferior to anyone - especially when it regarded you.

So there, your plan was complete. Act like Xiao was your boyfriend, and then maybe they would finally notice you… except, why do you get the feeling that Xiao was forgetting his purpose?

It’s not anything major, not by a long shot, but you find it strange how he’s suddenly grown so clingy, as if pretending to be your partner somehow enhanced the relationship between the two of you. He walks you to every one of your classes, and insists on coming over to your house for study sessions, and while you don’t particularly dislike it, it is awkward, seeing him act so intimate even with no eyes watching.

But… this was all normal, right? He was just normalizing himself with his role, so there was nothing to concern yourself over. That’s what you chided to yourself whenever these moments occurred again and again, until one day, you accidentally brush hands with the male while trying to pass him some papers, and he practically jumps away from your touch. He doesn’t apologize afterwards, but you can see how he’s more cautious around you, sometimes catching his gaze lingering on you for far too long while a sheepish red creeps over his cheeks… and the way he glances at his own hand so gingerly is something peculiar all together.

However, none of that prepared you when the next week, the last day of the promised agreement, Xiao asks to talk to you. Alone.

“Xiao, what’s up?” He hasn’t spoken yet, and the silence is suffocating.

“Can we… not pretend any longer?”

And for a moment, everything seems to stop. Time itself halts as the only thing you can hear is your own shallow inhale and exhale. His voice cuts through the moment. “I’m tired of pretending, wanting something that isn’t mine. Something that I can never have.”

“Something… that can never be yours…?” It’s hard to speak, like something is in your throat, but you manage to.

“Yes. You.”

Ah, how could you not return his words when he gazes into your eyes with such adoration?

“...Xiao, it’s not entirely impossible.”

And the words that come out of your mouth aren’t lies, because you’ve felt the butterflies too. You wouldn’t think, a week prior, that you would’ve fallen for someone as distant as him, but the way he treated you so gently swayed your resolve. In a way, this outcome was inevitable.

Ha, but to think that Xiao, born from one of Liyue’s elite families, would confess to you like this, with such a flustered expression, eyes clouded with love? 

“Ah… then, if that’s the case, you’ll allow me this, won’t you?” 

There’s a hint of something strange in his tone, yet it’s left undeciphered as the male swiftly leans forward, one hand making its way behind you and keeping you steady as his lips meet yours. He’s pressed against you, close enough that you can feel his own heartbeats along yours, beating just as quickly. When he pulls away, one shaky hand manages to grab yours, grasp surprisingly strong.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll have to kiss you again.” ♥

"...Ah? Sorry, I think I heard something different. Could you repeat that?"

You don't think KAZUHA has ever looked more perplexed as he stares at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar as he tries his best to process your words. "So you..." His voice cracks, and he coughs into his fist. "You want me to be your fake boyfriend?"

"Just for one week..." You nod at his words, feeling a little awkward at your request. It wasn't too outlandish, was it? From the way Kazuha seems completely frozen, one would assume so... but it was a simple plan, even if it didn't work, it was worth trying, right?

It takes the white haired male a whole ten seconds to respond, which is already unusual in and of itself. He nods hesitantly, “I…I suppose I could.”

It surprises you how good of an actor he is, holding your hand without a second thought, inviting you out after school, waiting for you to pack up after classes and always following you to your next… sometimes you wonder if it’s even an act at all.

His touch seems too sincere, gaze too warm… and by the third day, your crush fades. Is it too hopeful to wish for something more in your relationship with Kazuha? Was it really so shameful? He treated you too tenderly to ignore, even if it was all just pretend… you wanted it to be real.

And maybe such thoughts were given an answer when, on a whim of carelessness, a small, folded up piece of paper fell from the male’s pocket as he waved goodbye, walking out of the classroom. Curious, you retrieved the paper, figuring you could give it back to him later… but you couldn’t resist just one peek. If it was really that private, he would’ve taken greater measures in ensuring its safety, wouldn’t he?

Ah, but what was written on the paper…well, to put it simply…

It was a poem, addressed to you. Professing his love, his adoration, his infatuation.

Words you were not meant to see, but ones you witnessed.

And when he comes to pick you up after class, wearing his usual serene smile, it’s almost as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

His crimson eyes seem to glitter when he spots you amongst the crowd, his entire expression brightening as he excitedly half-runs over with a slight flush on his cheeks. “There you are!” And just like always, he latches his hand upon yours, his grip comfortably tight.

Have his hands always been so warm?

“Dove, is something wrong?” The look of concern in his eyes is almost overwhelming. Something that can’t all just be a farce.

“Sorry.” Then, amidst the bustling crowd, you lean forward and give him a light peck on the cheek, pulling away as you watch his features grow slack with shock, cheeks reddening as he lightly squeezes your hand.

“W- Oh, does this mean…” His voice has gained a hopeful edge as a smile graces his lips. “C’mon dove, you missed. Here, let me show you how…”

And then he embraces you tightly, and you can feel his bashful warmth spreading into your body as his soft lips meet yours in the mere span of seconds, engulfing you with a sense of affection that you had never felt before.

“K-Kazuha… I…” It’s hard to get words out, with how loud your heart is beating in your ears - but there’s no need to, as the male shushes you with a smile playing on his lips.

“There’s no need to explain, I already understand. Besides, I was getting tired of playing pretend all the same.” ♥

"Haha, never expected to hear those words from you..."

HEIZOU looks rather calm, which is odd, about the entire situation, laughing quietly to himself before turning to you with a rather smug expression. "What, you want me to be your 'boyfriend' for a week?"

"Mhm..." You do suppose he's likely heard of stranger requests before, given the part-time detective work he does.

"Hmm..." Even though it seems like he's already made up his mind, he still playfully puffs out his cheeks, squinting his eyes at the distance as if that'll help his decision making skills in any way. "What'd I get in return, though?"

"...Eh? Uhm..." While Heizou was one of the more eccentric people you were acquainted with, you hadn't expected that he'd ask for something in return. "...A kiss?"

You were joking, but somehow, that made the male perk up. "Sure, sounds like a fair trade to me."

Well… if he was satisfied, then all was fine, right?

Except, with the promise of a kiss in tow, why does he seem so much more… full of vigor? That wasn’t natural, was it?

It’s easy to dismiss things you don’t see, but not when it’s clearly witnessed. Every little action he did, accompanied with a smirk, would be followed with a smug little something along the lines of, “I can’t wait for the kiss,” or “Your kiss will make this all worth it~!” And even whenever he loosely held your hand, he would glance at you and make a puckering motion with his lips.

At that point, calling his actions “normal” would just be lying to yourself.

“So, how’d it go?” Heizou glances up at you with tentative emerald eyes as you near him, something in his gaze that you can’t quite describe.

“All they said was ‘congrats on finding a partner.’” You sigh, slumping as you stand next to him, sliding down the wall before sitting on the floor, knees hugged to your chest. “I think they're dating someone else… ah, how could this be? I’ve had a crush on them for years, yet…”  Another long sigh escapes your lips.

At the edge of your vision, you can see a certain male staring at you with a faint smile on his face, growing subtly wider with each word that leaves your mouth.

“Heh, seems like my love has run fresh out of fortune~!” His voice lilts, and you can hear the smirk residing in hsi tone as you flinch at the use of a petname. “Aw, it’s really too bad, isn’t it…” He’d almost look convincing if he wiped the jeering grin off his face.

“What are you…” Your voice trails off as Heizou sits on the ground next to you, mimicking your posture while placing his hand over yours.

“You promised me a kiss, didn’t you?”

Curses. That, you did.

“...Ah, were you serious about that?” You laugh awkwardly, but his expression doesn’t change.

“Were you not?” He counters instantaneously, his smug expression not budging an inch. “I never knew you were so unfaithful in keeping promises… I can’t help but feel disappointed.”

Then he pouts, eyes glimmering as he gives you the puppy eyes, albeit a little cursed. And just like that, you can feel your resolve shatter, crumpling like a piece of wet paper mache. An odd metaphor, but it seemed to fit the current predicament. With a groan of… embarrassment? Exasperation? You finally agree, grumbling, “Ah, let’s just get this over with.”

“Ready when you are~!”

Awkwardly… hesitantly, you lean forward, give him a light peck on the cheek, and retract as fast as humanly possible. Heizou only laughs at your antics, “You call that a kiss?”

“What, do you have any complaints?” You can’t help the snarky edge that makes its way into your voice.

“Perhaps a few.” The male smirks, scooching closer to you so that the two of you are uncomfortably close. “Why don’t I show you what a true kiss looks like?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, he doesn’t have to - he just swiftly moves in, one hand on your chin as he moves your mouth onto his. You can feel the sneer against your lips as he engulfs you into one kiss, then another. It seems like an eternity before he pulls away, and when he does, your left panting, face flushed with red. 

“Hah… I-” Archons, why did he look so handsome right now? With his slightly dishiveled burgundy hair that framed his face so immaculately, the way his spring eyes glimmered with the slightest hint of mischief, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards with a satisfied air.

“No need to thank me for my services, but if you’d like to repay me…” He recovers quicker than you do, his smile not flickering from his face, not even once. 

“Why don’t you repay me with a date?” ♥

"Hahaha- oh. Wait, you aren't joking? Ugh, who do you take me for?"

The instant SCARAMOUCHE realizes you aren't jesting, his smile drops, and it's replaced with a look of absolute denial... or maybe it's repulsion?

Either way, he looks displeased, and his gaze towards you is one as if he's glaring at an annoyingly loud fly. Or maybe a worm, like he always likes to say to people he particularly dislikes, cursing "lowly worms" under his breath when he passes them in the hallways.

"Are you crazy? Delusional? Oh, I get it, you ate something weird." He lifts his eyebrow at you, frown deepening with every word. When he notices that you don't admit to any of them, his eyes go wide. "...You're being serious."

“Yes…?” The way he’s acting makes you nervous. “C’mon, please? Just for one week…”

“...How unfortunate… the way you’re acting so desperate is kind of disgusting… but if you insist…” Scaramouche glowers, but eventually loosens his expression. "Let's make it quick."

He's a bit of a strange boyfriend, to say the least, barely holds your hand, and when he does, it's only when people are around. He's not exactly polite in his affection either, whenever he's latched onto you, he'll stick his tongue out at anyone and all who passes by you two, giving any sort of strange look.

He may or may not tone his antics down if you ask him too, but likely not. Why should he give a shit about what you think, or what others think? He's stronger - if they want a fight, he'll give it to them.

And when your crush eventually never returns the jealousy you were wishing for, it's disappointing, to say the least, but the only words Scaramouche have to say about it are: "They didn't deserve you anyway, the fool."

...Wait, was he the one that sounded jealous, now?

Perhaps you were hearing things.

Except...

"Hey, the week's over, isn't it?" Scaramouche sounds disinterested, but the way his gaze is fixated on you says otherwise. "Our little 'dating scheme' is finally over." You note the slightest hint of remorse in his voice.

"So it is." You don't glance up at him, continuing to scroll through your homefeed.

"Does that mean we're dating for real now?"

"...What?"

He lets out a sound that's a mix between a laugh and a scoff. "You tell me."

"Aren't we, now that we aren't faking it anymore?" ♥

(a/n) oops i made heizou's part too long and scara's too short whoopsies

[rainrot4me]

Clean Knife, Bloody Blade

Summary: When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to help…

Characters: Jeff the Killer x Menstruating Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Menstruation, period sex, vaginal with a dildo, toy play, vaginal, mentions of organs, blood, desperation, blood kink, teasing

Words: 3.2k

Jeff was terrible at showing affection.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, you knew he did, but to others, they could’ve never guessed. He was always upset, always brooding about something minuscule that would give him an excuse to snap and shrug others off. He was terrible company. But with you, even though subtle, he was calmer and had his head more on his shoulders than normal if you were around.

A calloused hand grasped around your wrist or a half-assed peck on the cheek indicated his affection. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like he was annoyed or had no desire to love you at all, but you knew that this was him trying his hardest to show his feelings. Even though the lack of cuddles and soft compliments itched at you sometimes, Jeff more than made up for it with the bloody carcass of some guy who catcalled you lying on your doorstep or the new pistol he had swiped for you on a mission. Jeff loved you in his own way, and you were more than grateful that he even tried at all, despite what others said.

Jeff always tried his hardest for you, tried more than he cared to for anyone else. And that stood true even now, as you laid in the bed squirming your pain and groaning into his pillows. Jeff was practically clueless. He knew what was happening and that it was nature, but it didn’t make it more comfortable to fuss with you over how dramatic you were being. Or to watch you sob and moan about some blood. Jeff dealt with blood every day, he just didn’t get the theatrics.

Until you began to cry, gripping your stomach as you wore his hoodie and sobbed into his pillow, whining your little heart out. The pale killer was stunned, awkward even as he tried to console you, trying to brush the tears from your eyes. “Just go get Jack. Tell ‘em to get me something.” You whined, rolling over and tugging the covers higher onto your shoulder. 

Jeff cringed, scurrying out of his room and down the hall, shooting for EJ’s lab in the hopes that he would have a better chance at getting you to stop than he could. Normally, Jeff would’ve been annoyed, pissed that you preferred to see some other guy than him, but right now he just wanted you better.

-

“And what does she want me to do about it?” Jack groaned, shuffling through some forceps and scalpels to neatly cut open the human stomach he was working on, trying to push the leftovers of the victim’s last meal out before nibbling on a strip of the raw meat. Jeff cringed, groaning at the way it popped as it tore, squishy in the demon’s mouth. “I don’t fuckin’ know? Just figured you’d be better at this than me. All medical and shit…” The killer scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, chewing at the tear on his lip. He hated compliments, hated trying to butter someone up, but he sucked it up. 

Jack chuckled, pulling his mask back down over his chin before moving, shuffling through a cabinet nestled above his messy desk. There were all sorts of pills inside, little orange and green translucent bottles that read ‘Wright’ and scribbled doctor’s signatures. How someone was giving Jack all of this medicine Jeff didn’t care to ask, he only noticed when Jack pulled down some painkiller in a white bottle, little pink tablets falling out. 

“Ibuprofen. Give ‘er like three. Maybe some food too, bad to cramp on an empty stomach.” The commands were giving Jeff whiplash, shoving the bottle into his pocket and staring as Jack circled back to his unfinished plate. “If that doesn’t work, try telling her to masturbate.” 

Jeff almost ran into the wall on his way out. What in the actual hell? Jeff tried to laugh as he turned, thinking Jack was joking but his expression was unwavering, gnawing on the tendon of a stomach valve as he smiled. Jeff couldn’t even be mad, stunned more than anything as he let his face show his confusion, letting his mouth hang open. “It’s true. Lulu told me one time. Helps with muscle tension or something. I read up on it a bit but wasn’t relevant to me, so I didn’t care. Guess it’s useful now.” Jack smiled, turning back to his plate and shooing Jeff out, shutting the door behind him as Jeff’s eyes remained wide and stunned, finally clenching his teeth and stomping up the stairs. 

You took the pills easily, letting Jeff convince you to eat a muffin before laying back down, groaning as you gripped his arm, legs curled into yourself. He stared down at you, awkwardly gnawing away at the thought Jack had set in his head. Masturbating? While you were bleeding? There was no way that could be enjoyable. But as you nudged your head against his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and pawing at this shirt, Jeff groaned, rubbing your back. 

Normally you were a little live wire, a little ball of energy that combatted his anger perfectly. You were perfect for him, emotionally and physically. But seeing that little ball of excitement cripple and falter under your pain made him upset, angered that he couldn’t do anything more. He hated seeing you like this, no matter how reluctant he would be to admit it. Jeff wasn’t a sappy guy, far from it, but right now he would do anything to make his girl feel better.

He started slow, nervous that you’d be too overstimulated to even want him to touch you as he rolled you onto your back, pressing down to kiss along your cheeks. You lay confused, squirming as his hands rubbed your sides, gently gripping and soothing your hot skin. “Jeff… Quit…” You groaned as he pecked your lips, tucking your hair behind your ears as he tugged his hoodie over your head. “Chill out.” He nipped, pressing his rough lips against your soft ones and purposefully holding yours down, calming your reluctant body as he rubbed at your stomach, kissing against your jaw. Your skin was hot, clammy against his hands as he pushed your shirt up, you finally realizing what he was doing.

“Jeff.” You grit, shoving him off as you sat up, irritated that he would even try right now. Jeff awkwardly tried to explain, rubbing your arms as he settled you back onto the bed, standing up to grab a towel in his closet. “Listen. Jack gave me some advice or somethin’. Said jerking off helps with your cramps. We don’t gotta, but…” Jeff also reached for the small bag you kept in his closet, tugging it open and tugging out a dildo around his size, awkwardly shoving the bag back into the closet as you watched, cheeks already flushing. “Jeff, it's nasty.” You warned, bringing your knees to your chest and sliding back as Jeff stood at the edge of the bed, lying the items down before continuing to kiss along your face. “Baby, I cut people up. I think I’ll be okay.” He snickered, lying you back down onto his bed.

You nervously laid, squirming your legs together as Jeff pressed between your knees, standing at the end of the bed. He tugged up your hips, sliding the towel underneath you as he pressed his cool hands along your arms, trailing them up into your shirt as he nipped into your neck. You sighed, skin hot and cunt already bothered as you tried to pry your knees tight around his waist. This was going to be weird regardless, your anxiety about the whole thing shining through as Jeff tugged your shirt over your head, palming at your boobs until you were tugging his hands away. “Sensitive.” You hissed, letting his hands fall back at your hips.

He grit, tugging your shorts down and smiling as you shyly closed in on yourself, turning your face into the sheets as he hooked them off of your ankles. He could already see the blood stained onto your panties, your pad doing little against it. Personally, you wanted to die, embarrassment hooking your every whine as Jeff hooked under your panties, tugging them down and gently massaging your thighs, letting you calm down. It was messy, sure, but the killer knew what he was getting himself into. 

You refused to look at him, knees hugged tightly to his sides as he cleaned the blood staining your folds gently as your pelvis ached, cunt tingling under you as Jeff leaned in to kiss your lips, reassuring you coldly. “You’re fine. Stop movin’ so much. It’s just blood.” This was as close as he was getting to gentle, but his words soothed you all the same. You still hid in the sheets, letting Jeff clean your inner thighs as he massaged along your leg, efforts reluctant as you just leaked more. 

The sight of your cunt covered in blood didn’t particularly turn Jeff on, but it didn’t disgust him either. It was just you, that stupid personality and all-too-caring attitude that he loved, he didn’t really care what you looked like in turn. He didn’t really mind what was going on between your legs, just as long as he was one of them. 

“Open up. There ya go.” He chimed, reaching for the dildo and pressing it to your mouth, beckoning you to listen. You obliged, spreading your lips around the girth and licking along the underside, soaking the silicone in your saliva. Jeff didn’t force it, didn’t push it to make you gag like he loved to do, just let it soak. He smiled at you, nudging his thumb between your folds and pressing against your clit, letting you groan against the toy as he felt your knees loosen around his hips. You had never done anything on your period, always so grossed out and irritated to try, but you could already just feel the difference. It was so much more intense, clit so sensitive under the pad of his thumb that you were holding your eyes shut, hips falling and rising against the movement of the digit. It was heavenly, and Jeff noticed, smiling as you practically ground yourself up against him. “Feel good?” He teased, tugging the dildo out of your mouth and sliding it against your stomach, saliva wiping against your warm skin. You nodded, sighing as he pressed up, hips catching and stuttering against it. 

Jeff slid the dildo against your folds, blood catching on the tip and spreading against your inner thighs. He smiled, enjoying how easy it was to push his knee under your thigh and open you up more, movements too lost in the feeling of the dildo halted against your entrance. Jeff held his thumb still, letting the dildo that was a little smaller than his own size begin to push into your aching cunt, cramps pushing out of the way and slowly fading into pleasure as the toy pressed into you. You groaned, a desperate ache of pain and pleasure soaking in as the dildo snugged your walls, pressing against your sensitivity. It just felt so good, entrance aching around the size but the thumb swiping against your clit made up for it. 

When Jeff’s fingers gripped around the base of the dildo and touched your folds, you knew it was bottomed out, cunt clenching tight around the intrusion. “Took it good, yeah? Basically pulled it in.” Jeff laughed, tugging the dildo out before slowly rocking it back in, angling the silicone up so it pressed just right against your swollen walls. You whined, back instantly pushing off of the mattress and arching into the feeling, the slowness tearing you apart. “Oh, God-” You groaned, tugging the sheets hard as Jeff fucked you painfully slow with the toy, watching close at how your body moved with it, hips rolling at every push of his hand. He had found a new kink just now, unfortunately. 

The killer continued to fuck you with the dildo, contorting and tugging the length so it stretched you nicely, thumb effortlessly making you flinch and squirm as he watched blood slowly leak from your tight entrance, pooling beneath you. It was satisfying, really, the further he pushed the toy the more blood spilled. In Jeff’s sicko brain, it reminded him of stabbing someone, digging his knife in and watching the blood just run, smiling at the irony of it all. He pushed harder.

You were loud now, tears running down your cheeks as you gasped at every shove of the dildo, sensitivity riding on every ounce of pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. Jeff was lost, busy watching your cunt and your screwed-up face, and couldn’t hear your silent sobs to stop or slow down, him only pushing harder. “Jeff- God- Wait, I’m… I think- Ah-” You mewled, letting your cunt squeeze down hard against the toy, walls aching as you came, body squirming and writhing as Jeff still bobbed it in and out as your cunt gushed. It took you sitting up, palming at his shoulders before he would stop, barely even realizing you had came until you were sobbing into his shoulder, dildo slipping out of your soppy cunt as you palmed at his jeans, his boner beckoning you. “Not… not enough. Need it.” You whined, words so jumbled and head so light Jeff thought you were losing it, eyes going wide as he realized what you meant. You still ached, still coming down from your orgasm but walls needing more, needing that relief from the pain again.

“Shit- Ah- Okay. Shit.” Jeff jumbled, stuttering as you eventually tugged his cock out of his jeans and began to stroke, leaning back and tugging him closer. He barely even had time, barely could get hard before you were holding his hips and begging him to push in, blood and your own arousal seeping around the tip of his cock nestled between your folds. “Okay, yeah. Shit-” He couldn’t even think to get a condom, couldn’t tell himself you were probably too post-nut high to realize you were too overwhelmed, but with those big eyes staring at him and your flushed cheeks pouting, he couldn’t help but groan his arousal as he pressed in. 

It was warm. Like, warmer than normal, warm. And you were tight too. Your walls fluttered around his cock, swelling against the length that curved and nudged deeper than the dildo, head falling back into the mattress as you moaned out. Jeff cursed, fists gripping your hips tight as he sunk in, watching the blood pool around his cock and seep down onto the towel, your entrance twitching and tightening with every inch that entered. “Needy, huh? You’re so tight, God-” He grunted, straining as he bottomed out and let your hips squirm against his, already beckoning him to move. It was like you were in heat, body more focused on how fast you could cum again than if you even wanted to. It turned Jeff on terribly bad. This version of you was exciting.

Like the dildo, he let his hips rock, bending his knees to angle into your cunt better and sink against your g-spot so nicely, leaving your arms clasped into his hair and dragging him down on top of you. Your skin was so hot, flushed deep as he locked his lips onto yours, rocking his hips into your soppy cunt and relishing in the way it gushed around him. He pushed up, digging his knees into the mattress and letting your thighs wrap around his back, his cock sinking further down and into you as your body contorted under him. You were scrunched, clasping onto his body desperately as you chased another orgasm, stomach fluttering and hips rocking with every movement. “So good- Can’t… Can’t hold on- Faster-” You huffed between slobber-filled kisses, letting Jeff dig his palms into the sheets underneath you and push his knees in deeper, letting his hips pull up much further and sink down just as deep. You were practically purring, mouth hanging open as Jeff bit into your jaw, nibbling the skin as he panted against you, shoving his cock into the hot glove of your cunt. 

“Beg me to fuck you and you’re still not satisfied. Jesus, woman.” Jeffrey grit through pants, leaning back off of you and digging his hands into your waist, tugging his legs further apart to open yours more before snapping his hips into your warmth, hearing the loud squelch and squirts as you writhed, moaning into your hands. Jeff smiled, clawing his hands to your tits and palming hard, letting you scratch and whine at his grasp about sensitivity and to let off, but he refused. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed that the ache in your pelvis practically vanished, pleasure rippling through your body as you arched and squirmed against the cock quickly pressing down against every inch of your gummy walls. You were cumming again, sobbing as you scratched Jeff’s muscled arms and held on tight, letting his cock fuck you through your desperate orgasm and fight against the overstimulation that crept through your body. 

“There ya go, just like that. Don’t even gotta worry.” Jeff mewled, letting his cock sink deep and rest in your cunt, your walls clenching hard around him, fluttering as he twitched and ached inside of you, restraining to cum until your sobs quieted, little whines and gasp all that was left. “Did so good.” He grits as he tugged his cock out, the length soaked and stained in your blood and arousal, fist quick to grasp around and pump himself over you, watching as you panted with heavy eyes. The blood stained his hand, smearing as he came against your folds, letting his seed run and mix with your blood as he groaned, palming at your thighs. “Fuck.. yeah…” He smiled, rubbing his tip against your clit for good measure before tugging back, scooping the messy towel out and cleaning what he could. 

You were too sleepy to hear the bath run in the room over, body still twitching and relaxing as your cramps stayed at a dull roar now, pleasure overtaking them. Jeff scooped you up, his body bare now as he stripped the rest of your clothes, cutting the faucet off before sliding you both into the large tub, letting your back rest against his chest. You mewled, leaning back against his shoulder and letting your eyes flutter shut, rubbing the arms that wrapped around your waist. “Thank you.” You sighed, the hot water soothing your body nicely. “It was hot, so worth it.” Jeff chuckled, tucking your hair out of the way as he kissed your forehead. 

You knew he cared. He had strange ways of showing it, ever reluctant to become soft and vulnerable. But you relished the moments where he got close, like now. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the most affectionate, sappy guy to have, but it was more than enough for you. 

Even if he was terrible at showing affection, the dedication to you more than paid its part. 

This was a request by @bubbleduckie!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[shotoh]

all mine

SYNOPSIS: Bakugou decides to put his delusional secretary in their place.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 9.6k+

genre: fluff, SMUT, maybe a smidgen of angst

tags/warnings: 18+! minors dni! reader is not the secretary, basically this other lady is trying to seduce your man but katsuki isn’t falling for it! marking, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), riding, soft!bakugou but also mean!bakugou, humiliation (not really at reader), a couple spanks, office sex, praise, degradation, pet names (baby, princess, angel), crude language

author’s notes: this is very overdue, like incredibly overdue LOL i started this wip last year but could only continue writing during random bouts of inspiration. so i apologize if the smut is a little half-assed and if the characterization is questionable. but enjoy my late kinktober 2022 present to y’all 

The sound of Dynamight’s heavy boots hitting the floor resonate throughout the wide hallways of his agency, drowning out the heels clicking behind him. A woman quickens her pace in an attempt to catch up to the impatient blond hero, rushing into his peripheral vision.

“Sir? Oh Bakugou sir~” The dulcet chime calling him is sickly sweet, enough to make him grimace. “I need you to look over these reports before I file them away.” She whips out one of the thick packets of papers clutch to her chest, bringing his steps to a halt which makes the hero point a glare at her.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that you’re suppose to call me by my hero name.” Malice coats his words, dripping off his tongue as he swipes the reports from her fingers. The woman, to the hero’s annoyance, indulges in his feisty attitude.

“Aw, but ‘Bakugou’ is more fitting given how closely we work together!” She waves off his displeasure, hoping her excessively cheerful personality can tone him down. “I am your secretary, after all.” She leans into his space, too damn close for his liking by how he could get a whiff of her pungent perfume. The overbearing scent has him side-stepping to create more distance between them.

The blond rolls his eyes before giving the papers in his hand a once-over, not even granting her the satisfaction of eye contact. “You work at a Pro-Hero agency, not some ordinary office job.”

Normally, he isn’t one to admonish any of his employees unless they’re his sidekicks. He’s always out and about on missions, never dawdling around the office long enough to find anything to scold them about. So long as they were competent at their job, he never had to give them any earfuls. But this woman here has been testing that resolve.

A month into her new position, his secretary has been greeting him every morning with far more energy than should be considered possible at such an hour. Her regular tasks shouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. She was mostly tasked with filing villain reports and contacting other Pro-Hero agencies, but her enthusiasm warrants him to think otherwise.

She deliberately shares elevator rides with him, droning on and on about god knows what before getting off at her floor, ending their dull conversations with winks and wide-eyed smiles that make him want to gag. It’s one thing to be genuinely excited about your job, but it’s another thing to be attached to your boss at the hip. She’s at his beck and call when he doesn’t even ask for her.

One can chalk this up to her simply gunning for a promotion, buttering up her boss to garner his favor. However, Bakugou isn’t an idiot. He can read the air, deciphering the meaning behind her words and advances. Her deceptive guise of a hardworking secretary beneath those batting eyelashes is easily uncovered by him.

If she was really trying so hard for a promotion she’d approach him with more important topics in mind. Statistics, analysis, updates on villain activity and hero work. Y’know, discussions that would actually benefit his agency rather than waste his time.

Instead, Bakugou stands there listening to… this.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” her voice drifts off as she taps a finger against her bottom lip pensively, “we should consider holding a party to get to know all our co-workers better!” she proposes. The blond narrows his brows incredulously at her suggestion.

Oblivious to his lack of interest, she moves closer to him, caressing a hand along his hard bicep. She tip-toes her fingers up his arm before flattening her digits next to his ear to whisper, “Company members only, of course. But I’m sure we’d still have a fun time even if it was just the two of us, right?”

Recognizing the suggestive lilt in her tone, he shoves her off of him without even touching her, abruptly tossing his shoulder back. The secretary freezes and comes across the peeved expression on the explosion hero’s rough features.

“We’re here to beat villains and protect civilians, not throw dumb parties.”

“But–”

“Shut it,” he retorts harshly, not letting the bewildered look on the secretary’s face demur him. He shoves the reports back in her arms. “Just do your damn job.” With his brows taut behind his mask, the blond glares hard at her, watching her fumble with the papers before he resumes the rhythm of his combat boots stepping down the hallway. The hero gives her one last glance over his shoulder.

“And remember, it’s Dynamight to you.”

.

.

Man, what an annoying woman.

Is the thought that plagues Bakugou’s mind as he stands beneath the running water in his shower, washing away the sweat and grime accumulated from another busy day of heroics. Yet he still can’t get the irritating thoughts in his head to do the same.

His fingers weave the shampoo through his spikey locks, the pads of his digits massaging his scalp. Glancing at his reflection in the foggy, glass screen door, he meets his scowling mug.

“Tryna get in my pants and shit… Worry about keeping your damn job,” he grumbles to himself exasperatedly. What he finds especially annoying is knowing his secretary will start the day again tomorrow as if nothing happened. Even with Bakugou’s firm stance at wanting to keep things strictly professional, she’s going to continue getting up in his space, trying to caress her nails up his arm, and stink up the place with what he swore was five different kinds of perfume sprayed on her clothes.

But Bakugou’s not some oblivious fool. He can recognize from a mile away what her goal is and he absolutely wants no part in it.

Besides...

“Katsuki! Dinner will be ready when you’re done showering!”

His head swivels toward the door of the bathroom. “Yeah I heard ya!”

He’s already got someone deserving of his time and affection.

You.

“’Kay!” you reply, voice gradually growing louder. Bakugou hears your feet plodding toward the bathroom door just as the door creaks open slightly. “I’ll leave you a new towel to use after you’re done showering, too.” Even through the steam, he can recognize your silhouette peeking inside to drop the towel off. Unbeknownst to you, behind the cloudy glass door of the shower there’s a smile that finds his lips.

After washing the lather off his hair and body, he shuts the water. The last streams falling from the showerhead glide down his skin, joining the suds on the floor before they all disappear down the drain. As the thick steam surrounding him dissipates, he covers his toned body in the towel you left for him.

While patting down the excess droplets cascading his blond locks, Bakugou puts on some sweatpants, but forgoes his t-shirt for now, leaving it hanging over his shoulder. He continues rubbing the towel around his torso as he exits the bathroom.

The savory aroma of thick cheeses and tomato sauces hits Bakugou’s nose the moment he enters the kitchen. He stops in his tracks to take in the pleasant smells, along with the sight in front of his eyes that effortlessly forms a grin on his face.

Your soft hums accompany the harmonious atmosphere of the kitchen. Bakugou’s ruby eyes rove over you shimmying your way around an array of pans and plates like you own the place (which you essentially do), watching you finish piecing your dinner together with a generous sprinkle of garnish and spices.

Eyes never leaving you, an expression of admiration and fondness paints his usually hardened face. With arms crossed over his chest, he could just stand there, admire you, and be more than wholly content. You could do the most mundane things and still have him wrapped around your finger—not that he’d ever mention that to you out loud of course. Occasionally, Bakugou wonders how he ever got so lucky with you in the first place.

You’re so blissfully unaware of your hotheaded boyfriend lurking nearby. It’s all the more apparent by how you abruptly pause as soon as you discover him idling in the kitchen doorway in all of his half-naked glory.

The blond doesn’t let the fact that you’re practically ogling his hard muscle slip past him, and definitely doesn’t miss your moment of hesitation before you avert your gaze, your cheeks growing hot. It brings a smirk to his face and his ego through the roof.

Bakugou tosses his towel and t-shirt somewhere off the side before coming to you. “What? Getting flustered or something, babe?” he taunts. His deep tone hovers next to your ear as his chest touches your back. His hands are on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.

“That fuckin’ hot that I got you this speechless?” His breath is so close to you, he just knows you have goosebumps trailing down your spine. He can tell by the heat swirling in your cheeks just how much he has an effect on you and he absolutely loves how easily he can get you flustered.

Though he can’t say he’s all but immune to your charms, either. He trails a calloused hand up your bare thigh and hips, giving your ass a firm squeeze through your booty shorts which causes a yelp to flee your lips.

Fuckin’ hell.

The way you were dancing around in these things, tip-toeing to reach high cabinets that caused the shorts to ride up slightly and give him a glimpse of the plushness peeking past the fabric already had Bakugou half-hard simply standing behind you. But being able to touch what was essentially his started to make the material of his sweatpants absolutely suffocating.

In a single motion, he spins you around. Your back is pinned against the counter as you’re forced to face him. The cocky grin plastered on his lips greets you.

Finally grasping your composure, you raise an eyebrow at him. “For someone who wanted to take a shower as soon as their stinky-self got home, you sure are eager to get dirty again,” you retort, tracing your hands up his arms to place them on his broad shoulders. “Work didn’t get you sweaty enough?”

The blond chuckles lowly at your cheekiness. His face inches closer, mere centimeters away from your lips. “I could go for an extra workout,” he says huskily, voice dissipating with the shortening distance between you.

His eyes are lidded as he targets your lips, hands leaving the edge of the counter in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist. To his surprise, when he darts forward he meets nothing but air.

Hearing your giggles beside him breaks the tension between you. He opens his eyes and discovers that you’ve tilted your head out of the way. Before he can open his mouth to spit a retort, you rest your head against his shoulder, arms winding at his neck.

“Food’s gonna get cold, big boy,” you hum.

The noise that leaves his gritted teeth is practically a growl. “Dun care about the food–” His hands at your sides play with the waistband of your shorts. “Would rather eat you out on this counter.”

He watches you gulp down the lump in your throat, finding the idea tempting as a dull throb aches between your legs. But to his dismay, you don’t want to let him indulge in you just yet.

You lean forward to kiss his cheek to prepare him for your next words, “First and foremost, dinner. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. How’s that?” You tiptoe to peck his nose one more time for good measure before wriggling free from his clutches. You shuffle away to the steaming hot food you left on the other end of the counter.

Pink swathes his cheeks as Bakugou stands there dumbfounded. He rubs the back of his head, his brows furrowing in frustration.

“You’re killing me here, dammit.”

You let out another dulcet giggle. The urge to sneak up on you again to try to get you all hot and bothered lingers until it’s interrupted by a piece of fabric thrown in his face. “Also, shirt on we please.” You turn back at him with two plates of stuffed ravioli perched on each hand. “No shirt, no service.”

He yanks the white t-shirt off his face, grimacing as he begrudgingly pulls it over his head. “Yeah, yeah. You love it though.” Nonetheless, he follows behind you while the savory aroma of your food creates a path toward the dining table. The scent alone makes his stomach growl, the effects of a long day at work making themselves apparent.

Despite the antics he has to put up with, he can’t help but soften around you. It’s as if you possess an innate ability to effortlessly get him to shed his notoriously rough exterior.

He takes a seat on his side of the table, his stomach now growling loud enough for you to hear. You tease a wry grin before placing the ravioli dishes on the table, letting the delicious aromas waft around him, his mouth watering.

“I know it’s been a long day for you so you better eat up, hero.”

The blond’s eyes flicker for a second, chest enveloped with pride as he meets the look on your face that awaits for him in anticipation to dig in. “Yeah… Thanks for the meal,” he murmurs, mild gratitude woven in his words as he picks up the fork and finally chows down.

Again, what did he ever do to deserve you? He knows how hard you work each and every day. The fact that you’re still willing to love and take care of him is enough for him to want to cherish you for an eternity. Coming home to the person he loves and sharing meals with them is a blessing to him as it is and he absolutely wouldn’t trade this for anything else.

Which just makes the matter of his secretary all the more annoying to him.

The damn woman has walked in his office plenty of times to see the framed picture of you two on his desk, even occasionally interrupting his phone calls with you that would end with him mouthing low “love yous” before he’d have to turn around to acknowledge the petty expression resting on her face. He’d watch as her demeanor quickly shifted into a full 180—from a bitter frown to a forced grin to keep up her facade. She definitely knows he’s in a happy, committed relationship. The real question is whether or not she cares enough to acknowledge the fact.

He could just fire her for unprofessionalism. That seems like an obvious solution, but knowing her, she’d probably feed the media some false rumors about alleged abuse towards his employees. Of course, that wouldn’t at all be true. Far from it, but the news loved to twist the truth so long as it got them clicks. Given Bakugou’s naturally rugged demeanor, it wouldn’t be hard for the public to buy their shit and for his ranking on the hero chart to plummet. Which Bakugou could not afford right now considering how close he was to the top.

“’Tsuki, stop playing with your food.” He hears you chide, tugging him from his contemplation.

Bakugou huffs, jamming his fork onto the plate. “I’m not a damn kid.”

“Right, tell that to the ravioli you’re mangling with your fork.” You raise your brow and point at his stabbed and defeated pasta, the filling oozing out from the punctured holes. He keeps his gaze suspiciously fixed on the ravioli.

Does it taste bad? You wonder warily. “If you don’t like it then you don’t have to eat it, y’know.”

“What? No– The food’s fine.” He stuffs three pastas in his mouth one after the other. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters through ungracious chewing, cheeks puffed profusely, bringing a grin to your face.

“What’s wrong then? Bad day at work?”

He swallows his food. “Could say that,” he answers, resting his head against his propped arm. “Just some employee causing trouble.”

“Hopefully it’s not one of your sidekicks,” you pick at the raviolis while stuck in your musing, “I remember your first batch of recruits when you just started your own agency. You nearly scared half of them away by the end of the week.”

“How else was I supposed to whip those newbies into shape?” He lounges in his seat. “If they can’t take some yelling from a Pro, then they’re definitely not ready for the real hero world. Besides, they were the ones that came to my agency knowing that I’m the best,” he boasts with confidence, shoving more pasta in his mouth, and munching at his leisure.

“Also, it’s not a sidekick. Just some lady who can’t do her fuckin’ job.”

“Aw, cut her some slack, I’m sure she’s trying her best.”

Bakugou almost scoffs. If you knew the real reason for her lack of work ethic, you’d be on the same page as him.

Either way, he really needs to get this secretary off his back before shit blows out of proportion. If pictures, phone calls—hell—even lunch dates can’t get her to wake up, then what?

To his surprise, the idea actually comes to him quicker than he anticipated, red eyes perking up at a scheme forming in his head.

Of course. Heh, why didn’t I think of that sooner?

This is how he’s going to do it, he thinks. His lips barely resist the urge to quiver into a smirk that will no doubt have you questioning whatever was riling him up. Swallowing his final piece of pasta, Bakugou pushes his plate away but aims his fork in your direction.

“You free tomorrow?”

“I just have to drop off some papers at work in the morning. Why?”

“Good. Come by the agency for lunch.”

Your brows furrow at how sudden the request is, however, you go along with it. “Okay, should I make lunch for us?”

“Nah, don’t. I’ll order something,” he assures, but in his head he’s sure lunch would be the last thing on your mind tomorrow afternoon with what he has planned for you, him, and his secretary.

Bakugou scoots his seat back, leaning over on your side of the table. “Now, I remember a certain brat made a promise to me after dinner was done.”

“Hold it, I still have a piece–”

“Nuh-uh, c’mere–” He lightly pushes your hand away, and with effortless strength, pulls you out of your chair and over his shoulder. “Already waited too damn long.”

“Whoa..!” Your last piece of pasta falls back on the plate, forgotten. You watch as the distance between you and the dining table diminishes, the impatient blond leading you two into the hallway. At your fidgeting, he swats your thigh, warning you to stay fucking still unless you want to accidentally fall on your face.

With a squeal escaping your lips, you comply. As a reward, he presses his lips against the side of your ass as you’re still hanging over him, nipping at your curves. Your yelps are replaced by laughter. The ticklish sensation nearly makes you squirm again if not for Bakugou dropping you unceremoniously onto your bed.

“You better make it up to me for having to make me wait, Princess.” His emphasis on what is supposed to be your endearing little pet name comes out as a snarl as you’re cornered against the sheets. Expecting this kind of intense reaction from him after your meal, you grin slyly.

“I mean the ravioli was good, wasn’t it?”

Well that he can’t deny. Still, the blond smirks, showing his pearly canines. “Yeah, but,” he moves away from you, kneeling while grabbing at the hem of his shirt to pull it off,

“I’m still fuckin’ hungry.”

.

.

There is no doubt that the next day, you woke up incredibly sore. Sore yet also just as happy.

The tension in your muscles had dissipated as a result of being repeatedly fucked into your own mattress last night, allowing you to sleep soundly. So soundly that you don’t even notice your boyfriend leaving for work that morning. But it can’t be helped given how ungodly early his hero work starts every day.

Some hours after Bakugou has already left, your alarm goes off to remind you that it’s about time to begin your day. Even after a spent night, you can’t bear the thought of lying in bed anymore, especially with how cold the sheets had become, devoid of the blond’s natural warmth. Plus you had something to look forward to this afternoon—your lunch date.

Once you get washed and dressed, you grab your business files from your desk and dash out the door to drop off your papers at work.

Before you know it, it’s noon and you’re standing in front of the receptionist’s desk at Dynamight’s agency.

While you wait for the receptionist to finish their business call, you think back on the employee Bakugou mentioned yesterday. You note in the foreground how busy the entire place looks, which doesn't surprise you. The agency runs like a well-oiled machine. With all the hustle and bustle going on, it seems like everyone is doing their job with peak efficiency. Honestly, you can’t imagine anyone wanting to test the wrath of the explosive Number Two Hero, but you assume such people existed.

“Thank you for waiting! Here to see Mister Dynamight?” The receptionist greets you after hanging up their call, immediately recognizing you from your prior visits.

“Yeah, just coming by for lunch.”

“He’s in his office right now so I’ll let him know you’re here then.”

You mouth a thank you, followed by a farewell wave as you make your way to the elevator.

“’Suki’s office should be on… this floor…” you murmur, pressing the corresponding button on the panel. While you wait for the doors to close, you spot a figure approaching from a distance. You can see the person’s wrinkled professional attire, disheveled hair, and slightly smeared makeup as she approaches the elevator clumsily.

“H… Hold the door!” she pants.

Hearing her frantic request, your mind catches up with you. You jam your index finger on another button on the panel, keeping the doors open just long enough for the woman to slip inside and catch her breath.

You watch her ungraciously drop to the floor, lungs gasping for air. “That was a close one.” You bend down to extend a helping hand.

She sputters as she reaches out to you, “Yeah, thanks, I– Wait, you’re...” When she looks up, her eyes squint to get a better look at your face, brows knitting together as she recognizes your features. Dismissing your help, she abruptly retracts her hand before getting up on her own. You cock your head suspiciously when you notice her change in demeanor.

“Oh, I’m just stopping by to have lunch with my boyfriend. He’s your, uh,” you piece your words as eloquently as you can, “boss.”

It’s always difficult for you to tell any of Bakugou’s staff that you’re his girlfriend. You’d done it before in front of his group of sidekicks while waiting outside his office and as a result they all flipped, bombarding you with questions about your relationship before falling dead silent when his door suddenly swung open.

You’re expecting the same, if not, a similar reaction here, but you’re surprised to see a deadpan look in the woman’s eyes. She averts her gaze. You glance over at her, taking note of her fists shaking at her sides and how she bites the inside of her cheek which forms a pout on her lips.

You’re beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “Are you okay?” you inquire, your voice filled with genuine concern. She eventually turns to look at you straight on, her expression teetering between a smile and a scowl. In any case, she tries to steer you away from the elephant in the room.

“Yep! Just peachy!” she assures through a strained grin that makes you all the more suspicious of her. Even if you want to question it, she has no intention of continuing the conversation. Her lips press together in an effort to maintain her smile, or else risk blurting something that should’ve stayed in her mouth. You keep to yourself in the elevator so as not to bother her, but the prolonged silence, combined with the elevator’s incessant dinging throughout each ascending floor, creates a suffocating atmosphere.

With every floor you pass you soon realize that despite keeping your distance, she’s still looking in your general direction. You notice her sneaking glances at you and your neck grows hot as you follow where her eyes wander. You press your palm against your jugular, the spot you recall Bakugou laying his teeth on last night.

I thought I covered that…

You want to chastise yourself for not spending enough time this  morning to conceal the blemishes on your neck. Your coworker had even commented on them before you left for Dynamight’s agency, to your embarrassment.

You settle for letting out an uneasy chuckle while adjusting the collar of your shirt. Though the majority of Bakugou’s staff are already aware of your relationship, you’d rather hide any detail of your sex life if possible. You’d prefer not being the hot talk amongst the whole faculty.

You expect to be the brunt of the woman’s teasing next, anticipating her wiggling her brows or whistling, but she keeps her mouth shut and her expression even appears offended.

Fortunately, the elevator saves both of you from any more uncomfortable silences. Right on cue, the doors slide open for the woman to exit on her floor. She doesn’t spare you a glance on her way out, but you overhear her mutter under her breath, “Enjoy your lunch or whatever.”

She stomps in the opposite direction until her figure disappears behind closing doors. Your face scrunches. “What’s her deal?”

You’ve gotten used to the bitter reactions some people would give over the fact you and Bakugou are in a relationship. You kind of have to, considering who Bakugou is and the hoards of fans he’s accumulated over the years as a Pro-Hero. But any of the backlash you receive is mostly posted online by petty netizens. No one has the guts to confront you in person. Mostly because if they do, Bakugou has no qualms about retaliating with equal venom and more. This lady, on the other hand, works for Bakugou. When it comes to greeting her boss’s girlfriend, she should be professional, right?

You brush those thoughts away, recalling that no one should ever have to suck up to you simply because you're a Pro’s significant other. “She’s probably on the PR team.” You laugh off, remembering how much trouble it is to manage Bakugou’s public image and how she must be tired from working overtime.

The elevator dings one last time to indicate that you’ve arrived at your destination. When the doors part, the entrance to Dynamight’s office is directly across from you, passing a short corridor. Normally, sidekicks and employees had to press the button on the side of the door, or page him ahead of time before entering. However, you have the luxury of just swinging those doors open whenever you like.

“Heya, Katsu–”

“For the last fuckin’ time, there’s no way I’m going on that mission as his fucking standby.” The voice booming at the other end of the room behind a wide, wooden desk drowns out your voice. “Tell Grand that if he can’t find another B-rate hero agency like his to do his damn dirty work, then he can just fuck himself,” he spits into the receiver. He slams the phone down and hangs up the call without a second thought.

You announce your presence once more with a low whistle. Another one for the PR team. “Vulgar as usual,” you joke.

He sighs loudly, “The only way to get the message across their thick skulls is to beat it into their heads at this point,” he says, leaning against the large glass windows behind him. “That Shindou needs to get off my back. I thought I told everyone I wasn’t taking anymore calls from that asswipe.”

“I’m sure Grand will finally get the idea after he receives your message from his manager.” Slipping in next to him, you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers delicately crawl up to his chin, tilting his head to face your smile. Bakugou reciprocates the gesture, his gloved hands gripping your waist and pulling you in as your lips briefly meet. When you part, you rest your forehead against his.

“How was patrol this morning, hero?” you whisper, playing with the tufts of hair above his neck.

“Same old shit,” he tells you quietly as you hum at his response, an amused grin tugging at the seam of your lips. Just as you’re about to separate, his hold at your sides tightens, locking your body against his.

“Bet you missed me, didn’t you, princess?” He leans in to nibble your jawline, causing laughter to tumble from your lips. “Bed got cold without me?”

Your answer is interrupted by a hand brushing up against the waistband of your pants, ruffling your tucked-in blouse. The man growls in the crook of your neck. “Didn’t have my cock to keep you nice and warm?”

Your nose scrunches at his unfiltered tongue. “Katsuki, I came here for lunch, remember?” You push at his chest, attempting to get him off you, but his teeth lock onto your clavicle.

“Food’s on the way,” he assures. Fingers play with the loops of your pants, dragging your shirt out slowly. “Might as well kill time–” His lips suddenly collide with yours, stealing your breath and drowning out any protests. He scuffs his teeth against your bottom lip, looking for a way in. You whimper in response at his persistence, stumbling backwards against the edge of his desk as he finally pries through your lips.

After an intense moment of kissing, his attention shifts to your jugular, nipping at the tender skin again. Every time his canines make contact with the broken skin, you wince. “Still got my marks all over ya,” he boasts, but the more skin he tries to unveil, the more he has to pull at your shirt’s collar which quickly annoys him. “Though I don’t understand what the hell you’re covering them up for.”

“D-Don’t want people to see…” you fumble with your excuses yet tilt your head to grant him better access. He scoffs at how your actions betray your words.

“Why does it matter when I want them to see? Let those fuckers look and know we’re together.” He licks one of the patches of broken skin. His harsh words make you shiver in his hold, but beneath his rough exterior, you sense a tender possessiveness in the amount of attention he pays to your body.

Your fingers brush through his hair, gently pulling him off of you so you can look him in the eyes, “You’re so damn insufferable, you know that?”

“Heh, you like it though,” Bakugou counters. You click your tongue, feigning ignorance. With his hand wrapped at the nape of your neck, he thumbs at your blemishes. His ruby eyes take their time to admire every inch of his claim on you. “You were clenching whenever I marked you. Screaming nice and loud too.”

“I bet the neighbors hate us now…” You sigh quietly.

“Took them that long?” He grins, almost proud of being a menace to those extras next door despite being a heroic figure. “Besides, not my fault you let me do whatever I wanted to you.” You pout, but accept it’s a fact you very well can’t deny.

As his deft hands unfasten each button of your blouse, he switches your positions. He yanks your shirt, dragging the fabric down your shoulders to reveal your skin and the bra hugging your chest. Licking his lips, he removes his thick gloves before hoisting you up to sit on the desk with him, making you straddle his thighs. Another pause of appreciation for the blossoms adorning your chest makes him blurt out, “Maybe I should let you mark me up just as much.”

You look at him precariously. He doesn’t take back the grin on his face. Seeing your wide-eyed expression, he cups your jaw, pulling you toward him. “What’s the look for? I know you’ve thought about it, princess.” Bakugou reads you like a book. He revels in your flustered face, telling him how right he is.

The image of his scarred, toned skin covered in hickeys has crossed your mind more times than you can count, but you’ve always been too engrossed in the intoxicating sensation of his teeth grazing every stretch of your skin to ever have an opportunity to bring the thought to light. Bakugou never gives you an inch when it comes to taking the reins in the bedroom. But now he’s practically granting you the opportunity on a silver platter.

You point a dubious look at him. “Are you serious, or did you bump your head somewhere earlier on patrol?” Anticipating your skeptical response, a chuckle rumbles low in his throat. He scoots back to remove his tank top, letting your hands lay over his chiseled physique. Your fingers immediately trace the scars and cuts lining his muscles, each one standing as a testament to every one of his battles. The idea of your own marks joining his adonis of a canvas has your eyes fluttering.

“’s no joke, babe,” he clarifies, a wicked grin plastered on his face. He then remembers why he made this whole arrangement in the first place. “Aren’t you tired of those fuckin’ extras always ogling me—looking at me up and down like they even have a damn chance to touch all of this?” He grabs your wrist and guides your hands above his chest, your fingertips brushing his collarbones.

You bite your lower lip. “Well…”

Hearing your voice linger, he snarls, “Are you seriously hesitating?”

It’s not like you hadn’t ever clenched your fists in front of the TV whenever your boyfriend was being interviewed by some mischievous news reporter or journalist. They never make it subtle when casting one too many glances at the Pro’s sweaty, skintight attire, staring into his red eyes for so long that they started looking dumb. Though as much as dark green jealousy occasionally takes root in your subconsciousness, you never act on your displeasure.

In the back of your mind, you always saw it as a sign of clinginess. But Bakugou sees it differently. To him, he’d want nothing more than his girl staking their claim on him. For you to get needy, jealous, possessive. Let the entire world know that you both belong to each other and no one else.

You fix your gaze at his cynical expression that eggs you on. Before you know it, you lunge forward. Your mouth latches onto his neck, arms curling around his shoulders. Bakugou draws you skin-to-skin, his low chuckle reverberating in the depths of his chest.

“Ooh, that’s it,” he encourages, rubbing your back. His other hand palms your ass, rocking you both back and forth, grinding his bulge against the crotch of your jeans. Your teeth cling to him, sinking into his skin. Your lips vibrate against his collarbones while you whimper at the delicious friction on your clit.

“Harder. I wanna see nice ol’ purple marks here,” he orders, relentlessly rolling his hips. You want to slap him on the wrist, your concentration waning as heat quickly pools in your abdomen. As if the grinding isn’t enough, Bakugou effortlessly undos the button of your jeans. He pulls down the zipper before reaching inside and touching you through your underwear.

“Fuck, already this wet from a little grinding? Nasty girl,” he hisses, running his index and middle finger across the ruined crotch of your panties. “Or maybe marking me is getting you all riled up?”

“Shut up–” you mutter half-heartedly. With a pop, your lips leave him. You lean back to evaluate your work. They’re not as noticeable as the marks Bakugou usually gives you, but they’re visible, and they’re purple as requested.

A small trail of violet hickeys adorns the crook of the blond’s neck and collarbones. Your finger traces the path, eyes capturing the sheen of your saliva over the marks. His skin gleams in the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

Reaching inside the pocket of his baggy pants, Bakugou pulls out his phone to turn on the front-facing camera. He gets a clear view of your work on the screen, and his smirk appears on the display. “My girl did that, huh?” He cranes his neck to examine the blemishes from different angles. Soon after, you hear his camera’s shutter release, capturing the image and adding it to his gallery. He should really consider making an album out of these.

Tossing his phone to the side, those piercing red eyes return to you, and your assertiveness fades. He grabs your wrists and leans in to kiss your temple.

“You did well, princess.”

His hushed voice makes your cunt clench and your ears warm. “I'll be sure to show these off later,” he promises, his tone dripping with smugness.

God, you realize how little his hero costume does to hide any of those hickeys. Given that he has to go on patrol again soon, you can expect his neck to be a hot topic in the media. Regardless, you can’t deny the satisfaction that wells up in your chest at the thought.

Katsuki was right. You really are possessive over him. And of course, it goes both ways.

While you’re distracted by your epiphany, he uses this opportunity to unhook your bra, happily discarding the garment. You exhale as he roughly cups the underside of your breast. His breath tickles your perky nipple, strong arm hooking you into him.

The pattern of his breaths are erratic, excitement coursing through his veins. His carmine eyes are lidded as he flattens a tongue against the hardened nub. As Bakugou fully wraps his lips around the stiffening bud, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, mewls part your mouth.

“Your tits still taste fucking amazing,” he mutters, mouth caught between sucking and spewing obscenities. “These tits gonna give me some milk too, princess?”

“Don’t push your luck, mister,” you quip before biting your bottom lip. You concentrate on moving your hips back and forth against his thigh, trying to find the right angle that provides you with the delicious jolt of pleasure you craved between your thighs. With a smack, his lips leave your nipple.

“Guess I didn’t give you enough attention down here since you keep rutting against me like a needy slut.” He swats your ass before gripping the plushness harshly. The mild sting has your pussy clenching. “My baby doesn’t feel satisfied unless she’s getting stretched open by my cock, huh?”

Just a little bit of dirty talk from him is enough to make you whimper pathetically, “Please, ‘suki…”

“Please, what? Gotta tell me more than that, princess.” He tugs the waistband of your pants, teasing you. Never breaking eye contact, Bakugou’s hand sneaks under the edge of his desk. “Use your words, I want to know what I’m doing to you. Don’t skimp on the details.”

A light click goes off, but if you hear it you don’t make it apparent, too focused on the hot blond in front of you that was making your head spin.

“Fuck… ‘Suki, I feel so hot… Need you right now…” You grab his hand showing him your ruined panties by letting the pads of his fingers trail your wet pussy. “See? Look what you did, I’m soaked.”

Bakugou mutters curses under his breath, applying more pressure to your panties to thoroughly inspect the slick saturating the fabric. He couldn’t have asked for a better reaction, finding your pleading to be incredibly sinful and all-too-tempting. He considers it a waste that he isn’t recording anything. Well, maybe it isn’t an entire waste.

“Damn, how are you this messy? This pussy’s fucking sobbing for me.” You nod, sloppily gyrating on top of his hand. For once, Bakugou is considerate to your needs and slides your panties to the side to slip his digits across your bare folds. You both moan in unison, you at the extra relief and him at the slippery honey dripping down his knuckles.

In his eyes he was being generous, granting you his thick fingers prodding your silky walls rather than reduce you to pitifully grinding against him. But, being greedy, you thought he wasn’t being generous enough.

Bakugou’s fingers leave your cunt to sample you, wet digits laying flat on his tongue. “Fuck, I need to lick you clean right now.”

“N-No, ‘suki, jus’ want your cock in me already,” you whine with a pout. However, Bakugou is insistent on stealing more than just a little taste from your sweet cunt.

“Not gonna even let me indulge a little? Must have spoiled you with too much dick last night.” He scoffs, but doesn’t move to discard his uniform to free his hard cock. Instead, he motions you to step down and stand in front of him while he remains perched atop his desk.

He eyes you up and down. “What are you waiting for, princess? I want it all off already.”

Your fingers start moving toward your disheveled blouse. As fabrics pile the floor, you catch the blond licking his lips, lewdly eyeing your panties that slip down your legs to reveal your juices coating your inner thighs.

“Turn around and kneel on top of my chair.”

At his blunt tone, you obey. Dynamight’s luxurious office chair cushions your knees as you carefully lift your body onto it.

“Bend over.”

Without question, you use the arms of the chair as leverage to safely lean forward, spreading your pussy in front of him. As half of your face presses into the cushion of the head rest, you steal a glimpse of his reaction from your peripheral vision.

With a guttural hiss between his teeth, he gets off the desk, pulling the chair closer for an even better look at your glistening center. He palms your ass, rolling the globes in his hands before spreading them, exposing your slick folds.

“You seriously trying to deny me this angel cunt?” His words are emphasized with a quick smack before his tongue dives between your folds. You whine at the contact, his lips fluttering around your clit as it works its way up your slobbering hole.

Knees shaking, you subconsciously muffle your sounds as you press your face into the headrest of the office chair. Not satisfied with your muted cries, Bakugou reaches one hand toward your head. He cups your jaw, turning you more to the side so you aren’t hiding in the cushion. When his tongue swivels around your sensitive bud, your moans resonate across his office with euphoria.

“‘suki! I’m gonna–!”

“Gonna cum? Do it then you slut.”

At your warning, he works his mouth vigorously against your pussy, even adding two fingers into your walls. Your toes curl behind you as your grip on the arms of the chair tighten.

“Fuck, you’re dripping all over my damn office chair.”

Maybe you would’ve issued a half-hearted apology, if not for his tongue and its unrelenting intensity across your sensitive bundle of nerves. You only offer a string of moans that Bakugou happily accepts, smiling into your pussy as he feels you tense up against him.

“Ka..tsuki!!” You practically scream, electricity coursing through your skin as your orgasm shakes your entire body.

“That’s it, princess. Want your taste all over my tongue… So fucking good,” he drones against your folds, not letting a drop go to waste as you slowly come down from your post-orgasmic bliss.

“Ah! ‘Suki, I’m already too sensitive…” You gasp, still feeling him drunkenly licking up and down your slit despite you just coming. Reaching behind you, you weave your fingers through his ash blond hair, nudging at his scalp to try to push him away, but Bakugou’s strength clearly outweighs yours. He grips your wrist, lifting his face off your sloppy pussy of his own volition.

“That sensitive just from my tongue? Oh, sweetheart, I plan on ruining you in my office chair alone.” Keeping his word, he replaces your pliant body with his own, planting himself right on the cushioned seat with his legs spread thoughtlessly. He dashes for the hem of his pants, unfastening the zipper, and pulling down enough articles of clothing for his cock to spring out, stiff and glistening with his arousal.

Lust blown eyes admire the thickness of Bakugou’s shaft, rightdown to the veins on the ridges of his cock. A smirk and chuckle follow in the wake of your heady gawking, swearing that you look like you were about to pounce and give him the best head of his life. Sadly, as he glances at the digital clock perched behind you, he realizes there’s no time.

“Sorry, babe, food’s gonna be here any minute and I need you on my cock right fucking now.” He rolls the office chair closer to get a firm grasp of your hips, motioning you on top of him with rousing urgency. Thighs on either side of his own, you reach over your body to level his cock over your dripping folds.

The blond’s lips curl into a sneer beneath you, hands fondling your breast and ass—the latter spreading your cheek to help you accommodate his size. “Besides, this what you wanted, right? To be–” As you begin sinking down his length, your mouth opens in a soundless mewl. “–split open on me, even after I fucked you into the mattress last night?”

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip while you do your best to bottom out. Katsuki isn’t amused by your muted reaction, pinching your nipple as punishment and spurring his desired noises from you. “What did I say? Answer me, slut, you wanted to get fucked dumb again, didn’tcha?” His words are harsher this time, demanding your attention.

“Yes, yes! Wan’ you to make me your little cockwhore, ‘Suki…” you confess, moaning when you feel his dick fully impale you. At the same time, Bakugou hisses at how your walls mercilessly hug his shaft.

“Yeah princess, I’m going to give you exactly what you need– Fuck! How are you so damn tight?!” It hasn’t even been ten hours since he had sex with you, stretching you into his shape last night until the sun shined, and yet you still had the innate ability to squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of him and then some. At this rate, he’s not going to last. “Need you to move, baby. Ride me already.”

Hearing the urgency in his tone, your hips begin moving on their own, dragging yourself on and off his cock. Hands on his shoulders, you leverage yourself to maintain a steady rhythm that had you both delirious and panting in pleasure. The blond’s thick fingers dig into your soft flesh, growls leaving his lips as fire flares in his veins, threatening to ignite his last ounce of willpower to allow you to keep this sustained tempo.

“F-Feeling good, ‘suki?” you question, looking down at him with a sinful expression painted on your gorgeous face—pretty eyes half-lidded and needy just for him.

“Yeah… God you make me act up all the damn time I–” His cock twitches between your tight folds, eyeing you from below and watching you clasp his hand that’s pawing your breast to gesture to him to play with you some more. The sensual yet genuine smile you give him ultimately breaks his resolve.

Oh, fuck it.

As if chains have snapped around him, Bakugou suddenly shoots up, carrying your body against him. He lays you across his desk quickly but carefully, with little regard for whatever else tumbles and falls off of it except for you.

You squeal in surprise, your arms and legs attempting to find purchase around him before you’re reduced to jelly by the new quickening pace of his cock pounding your insides.

“Oh my god… Katsuki!” The obscene slapping of skin on skin accompanies your desperate cries throughout his office. Arms that were wound around his neck lose their hold on him, pathetically dropping to your sides to clasp Katsuki’s wrists, where he’s pulling your thighs apart to spread you open for his unrelenting thrusts.

“Sorry, princess… you looked so damn hot I couldn’t hold back anymore. Needed to feel you deeper and make you cream already.” His tepid apologies don’t reach your ears as you’re overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his movements, followed by a searing knot welling up in your abdomen.

By the looks of it, you have no objections to the turn of events, gazing dreamily at him as his hardened body hovers over you. From your point of view, you get glimpses of the sweat dotting his forehead, his nose scrunched in concentration, and narrowed ruby eyes glimmering with feral desire.

With stars in your eyes and features all flushed with warmth and lust, you sing a euphony of I love you’s between whimpers. Your voice catches in your throat when his cock repeatedly hits that sweet spot inside your gummy walls.

Bakugou can’t get enough of you, heart swelling with his affections that he can’t help but flick his wrist to intertwine his hand in yours. Despite his progressively carnal thrusts, he possesses contrasting tender devotions in his voice.

“I love you, princess. It’s been you and no one else. No other bitch can compare,” he repeats over and over like a mantra, a declaration of his loyalty to you and only you. You swear there’s an extra weight behind his words, but you’re too engrossed in the feeling of utter euphoria this man gives you in mind, body, and soul to give it a second thought. It’s as if you’re walking on Cloud 9 as your pussy clenches around him, back arching in the moment that’s pushing Bakugou to the breaking point

“So damn perfect, you were fucking made for me, baby. Give it to me, cum on my cock,” he pleads, “I know you’re almost there, princess.”

“Yea, ‘suki… Wanna cum for you, you make me feel so good,” you murmur brokenly, voice splintering into an incoherent babble that he finds so endearing, caressing your cheek while deepening his brutal pace. That knot in your tummy tightens and when the cord eventually snaps, you cry out, clutching onto his hand.

Katsuki insists he’s never seen a prettier sight than you finally losing yourself all because of him. It urges him to reach his own high and claim you in the only way he knows how—coming in your pretty cunt and dedicating himself wholly to you.

“Pretty angel, you’re making me crazy over here. Fuck! ‘Bout to blow my whole load inside you. That what you want?”

“Mhm! Please..!” You manage a few urgent pleas before Bakugou finally reaches his limit, groans resonating in the wake of his cock stuttering between your silky folds. His growls reverberate from the depths of his chest, thick with rapture as his body is bathed in the sweet sensation that is your entire being swallowing him whole. Ribbons of his cum paint your insides. You feel so full, both physically and spiritually, your heart bursting with love for the man that was spilling his adoration for you merely seconds ago.

Bodies spent and chests heaving, you lay on the desk with Katsuki on top of you. You don’t notice his hand sneaking under the desk, a click going off that goes equally overlooked, enveloped by your collective pants echoing in the stillness that is his hero office.

After a moment, the sensations catch up to you and the weight of his sweaty, heavy torso makes you squirm.

“Feel sticky…”

“There’s a shower and bath right there.” Bakugou grunts, but there’s playfulness behind his deceptively gruff mannerisms.

Your hands trail over his back at his response. “I know, but can you carry me?”

“Fine. Such a princess…”

“I’m your princess though.” You giggle, a teasing lilt in your carefree tone.

The blond can’t help the grin that finds his features. “Hell yeah you are.”

Bakugou pulls on his uniformed cargo pants to scrounge together some semblance of decency as he cradles you against him. Your body is like jelly in the Pro Hero’s strong arms, barely exercising the strength to hold onto him properly as he moves you to the unnecessarily luxurious bathroom built in his office. While setting you down on the counter next to the sink, the pager in his pocket rings.

“Food’s finally here.” He reaches for a hanger on the door, finding a bathrobe to blanket you in. “I’ll be back.”

You raise a brow. “Going out like that?”

“Relax, I’m putting a shirt on obviously.”

“A shirt, huh?” Not at all convinced, you cross your legs. You and him both know he absolutely reeks of sex. The marks you gave him are also an obvious giveaway. No doubt he’ll be an eye-turner to anyone he crosses paths with at the agency.

“Fine, I’ll have someone bring it up.” He meets you in the middle and you happily oblige, shoo-ing him to go about his business once again. The blond rolls his eyes, exiting the bathroom and out the large double doors of his office to wait at the elevator for his delivery.

And when those doors open with a ding, he’s greeted by the very last person he wishes to see. Swathed in the overbearing odor of her pungent perfume, his secretary stands heel-to-heel in the elevator, eyes crossed and a furious blush penetrating the matte layer of her foundation. Her steps traverse the threshold between the lift and hallway. With hands balled into small fists, she jabs the plastic bag of take-out food into the hero’s chest before wagging her finger at his disinterested demeanor.

“You..! You! How dare you?! Why, I should charge you for sexual harassment for what you did! So uncouth! Barbaric even!” She lectures vehemently, voice dripping with malice akin to the insults she practically spits at his face. The benevolent facade she dons everyday to garner his favor crumbles to pieces before his eyes and Bakugou can’t contain his laughter at the pathetic display.

“What’s so funny?!”

“Oh man, you’re a riot aren’t ya? You coulda very well just turn off your speaker if it bothered you so damn much,” he suggests, but the glint in his expression tells the woman he can see right through her. “But you didn’t, did you? You listened in on the whole thing like a fuckin’ pervert.”

At his deduction, the secretary blushes even harder. The fists at her sides shake with an anger that boils under her skin, melting her composure like the wicked witch of the west.

“Why you..! You’re the pervert here! Don’t think you can turn the situation on me when you’re the one who instigated this!” She points an accusing finger in his direction, an empty threat to the indifferent blond.

The hero barely offers her a scoff. “Me? The instigator? You got some fucking nerve saying that when all month you’ve been coming onto me practically on all fours despite knowing I’m a taken man.” Now it’s his turn to retort with equal venom and then some. His sudden switch in demeanor quickly overwhelms the woman as with every step he takes forward, she grows smaller and smaller.

“What’re you going to do? Tell the media? Report me to the authorities? Make a bunch of baseless rumors on your online blog? Well news flash—unlike you I’m irreplaceable. There won’t ever be another hero that has left as big of a mark on this country as I have, and you know it.” He holds his chest proudly after every word. In his presence, the secretary shrinks, gradually cowering back toward the elevator. Any semblance of nerve she held vanishes in front of her.

“Now start packing your things. If I don’t see your station left spotless by tomorrow morning I’ll make sure your days working for the hero industry are numbered.” It’s a threat she doesn’t dare challenge, wordlessly pressing a button on the panel to descend the floors and flee with her tail between her legs. The flabbergasted expression on her face is the last he sees of her.

And just like that, Katsuki feels a weight evaporate from his shoulders, releasing a deep sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He bounds back to his office with your lunch in tow.

When he returns, he overhears the water running in the bathroom before it’s soon shut off.

“Ah, ‘Suki, you’re back! I just filled the tub with water for our bath.” Your sincere smile meets his eyes which soften at the mere glimpse of you kneeling next to the tub, patiently awaiting his arrival.

“Fuck, babe, you weren’t suppose to move. Should be too sore after what I did t’ya.” He hoists you off the floor and into welcoming arms.

You pout cutely. “C’mon now, I’m not helpless you know.”

“‘Course not. But you’re my princess, remember? All mine.” He settles you both into the depths of the soothing, warm tub, nestling your body against his chest as he presses kisses in every area of tender skin he laid his claim on.

“And I plan to treat you like one for the rest of our lives.”

.

.

The very next morning, he finds a letter of resignation on his desk—the very place the two of you had fucked.

copyright 2022 shotoh, all rights reserved. i do not allow my creations to be published or translated elsewhere so please do not repost this or share my content on tiktok.

[erwinsvow]

you fiddle with the r necklace, rubbing it between your fingers like you always do deep in thought. you should have gotten rid of the necklace the day the two of you broke up, but a hopelessly sad and defiant part of you refused to take it off. it’d been long enough now that it was getting to the point of weird rather than just pathetic. at least, your friends thought so, and they never hesitated to let you know. after all, there was no one that hated your boyfriend more than them.

“you’re doing it again,” kiara comments, staring at your hand mid-motion, the pendant slipping from your grip as you drop it immediately. 

“doing what?” you question innocently, face burning. 

“i still think it’s creepy that he wanted you to wear a necklace with his initial. it’s like a brand. it’s dehumanizing.” 

“or, like, a dog collar,” jj says, holding back a laugh. you look up at them with a blank expression, because you really don’t have any retort. maybe it was rafe’s brand on you, maybe your friends are right. but you think, chest tight, that you didn’t mind being branded by him.

you change the topic because you’ll start crying if you think about it too long—of course they don’t mind, they encourage you to talk about anything but rafe these days. if only it was that easy to get your mind off of him.

rafe doesn’t make it easy on you either. what was supposed to be an amenable break-up had transformed and twisted into something completely different—something that your friends would kill you if they found out about. the first few weeks had been normal, like any other break-up, you sobbed on john b’s shoulder, accepted tissues from pope and listened to jj talk badly about rafe for as long as you could listen. you spent hours with kiara and sarah exploring all the reasons why it was so not meant to be, not when you and rafe were night and day, not when he was still dealing and doing coke. and then, just like other break-ups, the time came to put all of rafe’s shirts and the teddy bears he’d bought you and the photos on your wall into a box and get rid of it all.

you think you’re doing a good thing, by bringing rafe his shirts back instead of burning them like jj suggested. you knock on the door to tannyhill, making sure you spot his truck parked outside—even though one glance at the car where you’d lost your virginity to rafe makes your face burn up. you feel flushed and clammy when rafe opens the door, and he looks at you like nothing’s happened since he saw you last, and the rest of your resolve caves almost immediately. 

“hey, kid.”

“hi,” you chirp, pulling your eyes away from rafe’s before he convinces you to do something you’ll regret. “i brought your clothes back. i had more than i realized.” you offer him the box, but he doesn’t extend his arms.

“nah, you can keep them. you’ll be needin’ them anyways.”

“what?”

“how long d’you think we’re gonna stay broken up for? huh? another week? two?”

“rafe, i-”

“it’s okay, kid, just keep them.”

“no, i think you should take them-”

“why don’t you come upstairs and put them away f’me? hm?”

the first time it happens, you tell yourself it was a one-time mistake, that could happen to anyone. you’re wrapped up in rafe’s sheets, naked and sweaty, trying your hardest to catch your breath while you stare at the muscles of rafe’s back while he pulls up his laptop and finishes whatever he was working on. your phone keeps going off, probably your friends wondering why you’re so late to dinner. you pray to god kiara doesn’t check your location.

“you gonna get that?” rafe asks, turning back to look at you. you just look at him, delirious and still incredibly sad, wondering if this is the last time you’ll ever be in rafe’s bed again. 

“no, they’re just gonna ask me where i am.”

“still lettin’ them control how you really feel? gotta work on that, baby.” you feel any anger bubbling up at the fact that rafe still thinks you let your friends decide your feelings for you—a key point you had argued during the break-up—melt away at the sound of the nickname.

“they don’t like how much i like you.” you say it kind of sadly, like things could be different, like the two of you could have made it work in another world. you fiddle with your necklace, before unclasping it and letting it drop onto rafe’s palm. “i should go now.” 

it feels much too intense, like the third-act breakup in the cheesy books you read. you want rafe to fight for you, you want your friends to like him, but that means he has to change, and as much as it pains you to admit it, you don’t want any part of him to change. you want your friends to change their minds, but they won’t, and you want rafe to care that your friends don’t like him, but he doesn’t.

you try to move but he manhandles you into place, a hand on your wrist tugging you back into bed. he pushes your hair aside, clasping the necklace back on, and then rafe presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“don’t ever take this off again, got it?”

you nod. rafe sends you to the chateau in one of his shirts and you pray to god no one notices that or your necklace is still in its usual place.

the next time it happens, you can’t even try to argue that it was an accident. you knew rafe wouldn’t make this easy for you, but you didn’t think he could make it so impossibly difficult. his texts light up your phone, only a few feet away from pope and john on the couch, watching the movie but only half paying attention.

R: where are you tonight

R: you coming here or do i need to come get you?

your heart settles into your stomach, being attacked by the wings of the butterflies that have made their home there. rafe talks to you like the two of you are still dating, and your mind slips into an easy, soft place where that is still your reality. 

“what kinda porn are you lookin’ at right now?” jj asks, and you break out of your fantasy.

“what?” you blubber out, before john b interrupts.

“jj, stop making everything about porn.”

“i’ve seen that look before, man, it’s the exact face pope makes when he found somethin’ fun and fresh. so what’s your type, i mean, you can share with the class-”

after slapping jj on the back of the head and reassuring everyone that there was no porn on your phone—only the promise of something better waiting for you, but they don’t need to know that—you head out, replying to rafe quickly.

coming now. 

this time, you can’t lie and act surprised that you’ve ended up here again. rafe turns on his tv to watch the evening news, and it’s so silly you almost want to laugh, but you stay silent, watching him watch the news and taking a sip of the water he got for you. 

you turn your head to place the cup on his nightstand, and see your lip balm perched next to his lamp.

“i’ve been looking for this,” you say, picking it up and turning to rafe. 

“yeah, you left it here.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“‘cause i knew you’d be back.”

you think that’s enough to be your reality check. it’s not.

a week later, you accompany your friends to the bonfire. you play with your necklace while they fill up plastic cups with beer from the keg.

“you’re never gonna get over him if you keep wearing things he got you,” kiara says, taking a sip from her cup. you know she’s only trying to help you, that she’s only worried about you. you wish they would stop bringing him up.

“i’m not ready to take it off.”

“that’s not healthy. in fact, that’s so unhealthy that-”

“i said i’m not ready. can we drop it?”

“why not?” she asks, and you feel tears start to build along your eyes. “oh jeez, speak of the devil.” you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder, turning to face rafe.

“can i have a minute?” he says, looking at kie.

“no. you can’t have any,” comes her reply, until you look back. 

“kie, i’ll be right back.” 

you and rafe walk, ignoring the shout of your friend to not go, to an empty spot by the fire. 

“didn’t think you’d come here,” rafe says, quietly. you look at your shoes to avoid looking into his eyes.

“they dragged me along… trying to make me meet someone new.”

“yeah? is it working?” 

“i just told my best friend i’m not ready to take your necklace off, so, what’d you think-” rafe stops you, his hand coming up to lift your chin to make you meet his eyes finally. he presses his lip to yours—it feels different than the hundreds of times he’s kissed you before. your eyes flutter shut, a sole tear spilling down your cheek. 

you wonder if everyone’s looking. you decide you don’t really care.

“i told ya not to take that necklace off.”

“i listened, rafe,” you breathe softly.

“i know,” he says, kissing you again and then pulling away. “you’re a good girl. you always listen. i’m done with this crap, and i don’t care what your idiot friends say. not staying away from you. no one can make me, not even you.”

“i don’t want you to stay away.” rafe takes the pendant with his initial into his fingers, playing with it before letting it fall against your chest.

“good. now go tell them you’re coming home with me and let’s get outta here.”

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!ghost x f!reader / part 2

previous part

tw: talk of past trauma/abuse, implied past s/a (not with ghost), alcohol, mentions of suicide

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

You were trying. You really, really were. For the first few days of this sudden deal you had made with a hitman you had just met yet somehow felt compelled to prove wrong, you were doing good.

You cleaned the entirety of your apartment, tossing out the old liquor bottles that littered your cabinets. You stocked your refrigerator that had been near empty for months apart from the old takeout boxes that had been slowly decaying away. You even went to work with a damn smile.

You were doing everything you could to prove to Ghost that maybe you didn’t want to die after all, that it was a fluke in your system convincing you it was what you desired.

You hated being a weakling. You hated that Ghost was right. You wanted to prove to him you could make it to two weeks and that you didn’t need him to kill you after all. You wanted him to be proud, though you didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he knew you, nor you him.

He was a stranger, but he was the first one to ever give you an ounce of care and attentiveness, even if it ended up being a facade on his part.

It took all but four days for your resolve to crumble, and you found yourself back at square one, entering your shitty apartment with bags of alcohol that you impulsively bought on the way home from work.

Like you said. You tried.

Stepping inside with a grim expression adorning your face, you shucked your shoes off of your feet, dropping your purse to the ground without an ounce of care for it.

Everything felt heavy as you slid further into the apartment. Your mind was running a marathon that went all sorts of different directions. It felt like the weight of the world laid on your entire body, and you wasted no time in heading straight towards your bedroom.

With the bags of alcohol still in your hand, you stepped into your bedroom, feeling a slight breeze that was never normally there. It sent a chill down your spine and caused goosebumps to rise on your skin beneath your sweater.

Eyes preyed on the state of you, and when you finally gathered the courage to look at the sliding door to your bedroom balcony, a familiar masked man stood there, lazily leaning his arms against the railing, nursing a cigarette.

The sight reminded you of the night the two of you stood out there, where he coerced you into making the damn deal in the first place, one you were too stubborn to deny at the time.

It was the first time you had somebody in your apartment since the last man in your life, and you swore you’d never allow it to happen again. Yet here he was for the second time, standing there like he lived in the apartment with you.

You felt like a complete idiot when he took in the alcohol bottles and the sunken eye bags on your face. Four days into the deal, and your facade already broke.

“That doesn’t look like figurin’ it out,” Ghost said in a dry tone, yet it didn’t hold judgment like you expected. If anything, he sounded a bit disappointed, maybe even pitiful.

You stood like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, bags dangling loosely by your sides, eyes boring into his. Guilt gnawed at you for purchasing the alcohol and already failing at your end of the deal.

The smoke that slipped from his lips did nothing to fog over his piercing stare, and you could feel yourself becoming weak under it.

That’s what you were. Weak. A weak, stupid girl.

You don’t know how long you stood there in a daze, but it must’ve been quite some time because he turned his whole body towards you, leaning his back against the railings. Now you were definitely trapped under his stare with him fully facing you despite the slight distance between you in the doorway and him on the balcony.

“Still got about ten days left of our deal. You goin’ to back out so soon?”

Your hands balled the plastic handles of the bags tighter, and a feeling of shame came over you.

What were you doing? Did you really fail yourself after four days? Did you really buy more liquor to ease the pain?

“Don’t know why you’re so concerned about the deal anyway. You’re missing out on money by not killing me like I want,” you retorted with a frown, dropping the bags on the bed carelessly. The bottles clinked loudly, rattling in your ears like a cruel reminder of how pathetic you were.

He snorted, taking a puff of his cigarette that was slowly burning between the press of two fingers. It curled around him like an embrace, filling the night air with spouts of gray and nicotine.

“‘M not that concerned about the money, sweetheart. More concerned ‘bout the stupid girl who’s tryin’ to commit suicide through a hitman.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. It made you look defensive, which is absolutely how you felt. The day hadn’t treated you well, and now Ghost was here to taunt you about the silly deal you made in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t understand why he was concerned. The two of you met once — twice, technically, but all in the same day. Nobody ever worried for you, nor did you have anybody in your life to worry about you.

Why on earth did a man meant to kill you care about you?

It felt like a trick. Maybe it was all apart of his plan, maybe he was one of those sick, cold-blooded killers that posed themselves as hitmen. That must’ve been why he wore a mask, and why he pretended to care.

Your mind was eating you from the inside and out, spiking your anxiety and causing it to feel like little knives digging into you more and more. It sliced at your insides, tearing your chest and stomach with nerves and shame that made you want to pop open one of the bottles and drown yourself in a buzz of alcohol. At least liquor wouldn’t interrogate you.

“You goin’ to stop lookin’ at me like a dead fish?”

When you came back to your senses, he had a small smirk on his lips where the mask was lifted for you to see. It wasn’t a genuine smirk, and it was far from a smile — it was sarcastic and teasing, like he knew he was making you feel stupid and deranged, and was enjoying it.

“Can you just murder me and get on with it? Deal’s off,” you snapped, and he huffed out a laugh, flicking his cigarette to the ground of your balcony and lightly crushing it beneath his boot.

“‘M not a murderer,” he argued, and you gave him a bitter laugh.

“You’re a hitman.”

“Exactly,” he agreed with a shrug of his shoulder. “A hitman. Not a murderer. The real murderers are the ones who hire me to kill people. I just do the dirty work, sweetheart.”

Ghost had a twisted way of defending his work, but you supposed he had a point. After all, you were the one practically begging him to end your life.

“You— whatever,” you muttered, letting out a long sigh. You sat on the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands and attempting to rub away the obvious exhaustion in your eyes.

There was no point in arguing with him in the first place. He was clearly playing you like a fiddle, and for why, you weren’t sure, nor did you have the energy to care.

Your entire body felt heavy with emotions from what transpired in your day, and Ghost was making no signs of leaving you alone to drink your sorrows away and hopefully succumb to alcohol poisoning — an easy way out.

“So,” Ghost began, breaking the tense silence. He took a step inside of your room, shutting the sliding door behind him and allowing the night chill to remain locked outside. “How ‘bout you tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty head, and we make it to day five of our deal, hm?”

You lifted your head from your hands to see him standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, mask tugged back down over his face to hide his mouth, head tilted down at you in a way that made you realize just how much of a behemoth of a man he was.

“‘M waitin’.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” you defended with a scowl.

“Mm. Try me.”

“Fucking Christ,” you hissed. The emotions that had been brewing inside of you were threatening to spill out like a damn geyser, and it was becoming near impossible to hold them back.

You sat for a moment while he patiently (or impatiently, you didn’t care either way) waited for you to collect yourself. Truly, despite how annoying he was being tonight, what was the harm in telling him? After all, he was offering, and he didn’t know you. Plus, hopefully by the end of this stupid deal, he’d kill you and learn to forget about what you were about to say.

“I saw somebody at work,” you grumbled quietly, turning your eyes away from him as if ashamed. “Somebody I didn’t want to see. Brought back bad memories and now here I am, spiraling to the point of no return, all because I let that fucking idiot get to me.”

Ghost hummed in acknowledgment, one of his gloved hands coming out of his pocket to rub at the fabric covering his chin.

“Hm. An ex, then?” he asked, and you nodded your head.

“Guess so, yeah. He… he was a bad person, y’know? Really fucked me up, in the relationship and after. Can’t seem to get away from the fucker.”

“Makes sense.” Ghost shrugged a shoulder, letting his hand fall back in his pocket. “You really goin’ to let some arse have control like that? Thought we had a deal, sweetheart. Four days in and you’re already droppin’ like a fly ‘cause of one brute.”

You scowled to yourself, feeling a mix of embarrassment and shame settle in your bones. God, how weak were you?

“He was an abusive asshole who took everything away from me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Go on. Tell me more.”

So you did. You don’t know why, but his words were the green light for you to spill out every bit of misery you’d been holding in for so long, you couldn’t even recall when it began.

He listened, putting in his own input at times, or giving you the occasional nod to show he was listening.

You told him everything — the abuse, the mistreatment, the torture. How you lived a life full of black and blue, skin so tattered it was permanently damaged from the pain your ex would cause you. How he wouldn’t ever let you say no, and would manipulate you into giving in, no matter where, no matter when.

You had permanent scars on both your mind and heart from how much of yourself had been torn down. Even now, you can remember the screams that caused your throat to become raw and you begged, pleaded for him to stop. You wanted all of it to end, and you remembered how much you wished your ex would just kill you so you wouldn’t have to suffer a life like that anymore.

Old habits die hard, you suppose. Things don’t change, even with time.

It was pitiful how long you had put up with such abuse, but you did, and there was no rotating the clock so you could go back and redo your entire life again. If you could, you wouldn’t be here, trauma dumping on your own hitman.

You weren’t sure how long you spent pouring your heart and soul to Ghost, but by the time you were finished, your face was red, your breath was heavy, but your shoulders were more relaxed than before, as if the weight had been carefully lifted and placed elsewhere.

Ghost stood silent for a long pause in time. He stared at you, eyes taking in every movement of your chest, every twitch of your fingers. You didn’t stare back, for your glare was locked on to the ground as you took that time to recollect yourself and not appear like the broken, battered girl you knew you were.

“Well,” Ghost finally spoke, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were on his phone. You don’t remember him ever pulling it out, too focused on your own self destruction. “Would you look at that. Made it to day five.”

He turned the phone to face you, screen lit up to display his lockscreen. It was the default wallpaper, no sign of life or personality evident. When you took a closer look, you saw the time, and realized he was right.

It was 12:01. Just past midnight.

“Let’s make it to day six, yeah?”

Ghost shoved his phone in his pocket, giving you a nod in farewell before he took steps forward towards your bedroom door.

You sat there in stunned silence, eyes blinking dumbly. When you realized he was leaving, you whipped your head in his direction.

“What—“

“I'll be back soon, sweetheart.”

He didn’t let you finish your question, giving you a small wave of his hand. You noticed his eyes crinkled where they were exposed from under the mask, and you realized he was smiling at you, even if you couldn’t see it.

You couldn’t help but give him a relieved smile back.

[salethe2]

I’ve seen a lot of takes on this scene, and honestly they’re all so interesting, so I decided to give my perspective.

Okay, starting with Armand’s costume, which Carol Cutshall absolutely nailed. Here’s what she said about Armand’s costume design:

—“One of the things about Armand is he is so ancient and so powerful that he always presents himself as very open. Whereas some of the other characters are very covered up, he’s always very open because he really doesn’t see anyone as a threat to himself. He didn’t have any predators or any reason to be on guard, or be armoured.”

Personally, I find this design choice fascinating because, despite being a predator at the top of the food chain, vampires like Armand, especially as a coven leader, would normally need to remain vigilant. Yet, he’s completely at ease, even surrounded by other vampires.

I mean, look at him here. Sure, it’s not the deep, open V-neck shirts he wears in the interview scenes, but his outfit is still loose and open. And he’s literally surrounded by a group of vampires he knows are plotting against him. He even has his back to said vampires and yet, he’s not the least bit nervous in either situation!

Even with Daniel, he’s not nervous or afraid because he doesn’t initially see him as a threat.

So, if Armand isn’t scared of his own coven—a bunch of vampires ready to kill him at the first opportunity—or Daniel, who could potentially expose all his manipulations, then why on earth does he go into full armor mode to meet a seemingly inconsequential human he’s never encountered before? He’s literally in a turtleneck, shielding his most vulnerable area for crying at loud!

A for body language—honestly, Assad Zaman deserved an Emmy for this scene. We see Armand being aloof, a little suave and condescending, employing the whole, “I’m a four-century-old vampire; you’re just a lowly human” tactic. It’s like he’s sizing her up, wanting to understand who she is while simultaneously aiming to provoke her, curious to see how she will react.

As for his questions, he frames them in the way you might expect a coven leader to interrogate a human he’s about to turn. Questions like, “How will you survive? Are you okay with killing people and being a monster?” It almost seems like he’s trying to make her reconsider her decision to turn, but it’s all a facade.

Because the question he really wants to ask is the last one, and when he finally approaches it, his entire demeanor shifts.

He sheds the suave demeanor and shifts to a more serious tone, embodying what Louis describes as his "post-apocalyptic look." He towers over Madeleine, gazing down at her in an attempt to intimidate. At this point, Madeleine's expression turns genuinely nervous, perhaps even frightened—and understandably so. Yet, she holds her ground. It's then that Armand poses the crucial question he had come specifically to ask.

“And what will you do in a few decades when she throws herself into the fire? Because she will.”

Now, why does this question seem familiar? It’s because Armand has previously made a similar statement to Louis. He had forewarned Louis that Claudia’s mind was bound to deteriorate over time. Now, Louis tearfully countered that Armand couldn’t be sure of this, yet part of him probably recognized the truth in Armand’s words, which likely contributed to his emotional plea for Armand to look after her.

Armand realized then that Louis, despite his deep love for Claudia, lacked the resolve to keep her grounded, effectively sealing her fate, which seemed all but inevitable by that point. He even assigns Claudia the role of Lulu as a way to infantilize her and further break her spirit—almost as a test to gauge Louis’ reaction. Unfortunately, Louis does nothing about it, while Madeleine clearly recognizes it for the manipulation it is.

And what does she do next? Madeleine quickly gets Claudia out of that outfit and into one more fitting for her. By doing this, she threatens Armand’s plans without even realizing it.

It’s also interesting to note that the only time Armand is ever truly angry with Claudia is when he sees her with Madeleine. This reaction underscores the threat he perceives in their bond, disrupting his control of the situation, and here is why.

When Armand posed the question to Madeleine about what she would do when Claudia throws herself into the fire, her response was:

“Or maybe she won’t. You don’t know. Maybe I’m what she needs to survive.”

And the way she meets his gaze as she says this marks a shift in their conversation. Throughout their entire conversation, Madeleine often looks away and breaks eye contact, but not in this moment. Here, she meets his gaze head-on. Even though she is clearly nervous, and likely a bit scared, she holds his gaze because she is sure of her words. This is a powerful moment where Madeleine not only asserts her belief but also turns the tables—now, it’s Armand’s turn to feel uneasy.

Of course, you don’t see it in his face, but it’s evident in his body language. The way he becomes closed off, his hand fidgeting, and his gaze fixed ahead as if deep in thought. He doesn’t even refute her.

Even with Lestat, when he warns him about Nicky, Armand doesn’t stay silent; he confidently affirms his insights, and Lestat—of all people—clearly believes him. But with Madeleine, it’s a different story. He goes silent, not uttering a word in response. He doesn’t attempt to persuade her because he recognizes that her mind is made up, her resolve unshakable. But perhaps the words that really hit home for him were “You don’t know.” This was probably the words that sealed Madeleine’s fate because the last thing you want to say to a master manipulator and control freak like Armand is that they don’t know something. Because now, all of a sudden Claudia’s death isn’t a certainty anymore and he can’t just sit back and wait for her to lose her sanity. He must take matters into his own hands now.

Anyway, one might think that Madeleine and Claudia leaving, thereby leaving Louis all to Armand, would satisfy him. After all, one of the first things he asks Claudia and Madeleine is if they’re considering returning to Paris, and you might assume Madeleine’s answer pleased him. However, her answer doesn’t satisfy him, not after what Madeleine says soon after.

Madeleine’s words confirm that Claudia indeed loves Louis, and because Madeleine loves Claudia, she persuades her to return to Paris despite her obvious and valid disdain for the city. This revelation proves to Armand, even if they leave Louis, Madeleine and Claudia will always remain a significant part of Louis’s life. For Armand, this is intolerable. To him, Claudia is a dangerous manipulator and a competitor of Louis’s attention.

So even if they all lived happy, separate lives, Armand’s nature is such that he cannot live with the doubt and fear that Claudia might draw Louis away from him. Having been abandoned too many times in his life, deeply wounded by those closest to him, and left behind for others, he cannot risk experiencing that pain again.

Thus, in that moment when he speaks to Madeleine in the apartment, he decides that both she and Claudia need to be eliminated. I believe this was the real reason Armand was there under the pretense of turning her. He needed to evaluate how much of a threat Madeleine posed to his plans, and upon realizing she was basically a live grenade, he knew he needed to act swiftly to get rid of her. Because as long as Madeleine is present, so will Claudia, and as long as Claudia exists, Louis will never truly belong to Armand.

[timmydraker]

Tim vapes.

To his friends, namely the ones at school and not so much in Young Justice, this ain’t anything surprising. It’s popular for his age group and given how he has various roles in life that cause anxiety and his poorly concealed PTSD from being Red Robin, it makes sense he’d turn to something for comfort.

That comfort just happens to be an addiction to the ‘cancer usb’s his brother Dick once went on a two hour rant about.

Jason once got grounded and forced to watch a PowerPoint video made by Dick and Bruce after he was caught with a cigarette while still Robin. Jason still kept up the bad habits, but he normally turned to a drink or smoke when things were really bad. It was both recreational and a treat that he only had a few times a year, or month in the case of alcohol.

Tim doesn’t take breaks unless he’s on patrol.

It started when he was thirteen and was so tired from starting work with Wayne Enterprise and Robin that he didn’t give his usual response to his friends offer of a hit.

The passion fruit guava flavour settled easily in his chest, most likely due to how he had a lot of self control with his body. He coughed a storm afterwards but quickly found himself coming back for a hit or two during school breaks.

It only took a month for him to buy his first one after some research. He bought the least damaging one for his body even if he knew that lessening such damage didn’t fully remove it.

He started with grape.

Then once that died, he bought sour apple.

Then fairyfloss.

Then strawberry mango.

Then birthday cake, which he genuinely didn’t think could be real but alas.

It took almost four years for anyone in his family to notice and by pure luck it was his actual father who would end up dying a few months later. Tim remembers how guilty he felt when he realised his father would no longer be yelling at him for his ‘fruity fucking stink’ and that such a thing gave him genuine relief. He shouldn’t want his dad to be dead, yet…

It was then Tim realised that maybe he should try slow down his usage, and challenged himself to go a whole hour before a hit, then two and then finally three before he decided that would be enough for a while.

It’s on a particularly bad patrol when he saw a kid get hurt and wasn’t in time to save her from some likely permanent damage that he forwent his rule of vaping in the suit and took several hits while against a wall in his Red Robin attire.

He was just stating to feel the calm fully settle in his bones as his last puff of sour rainbow exited his lunged when he heard a voice just a few feet away.

“How dare you disgrace the name of Robin with that filth!”

Tim jumps up immediately but no training would prepare him for how quickly Damian comes over and snatches the vape from his hand.

Damian is gone quicker than he can get himself together and he only just managed to shout and run after him with his growing panic.

Tim watches his youngest brother vanish from sight and knows he’s doomed.

When he gets back to the cave a few hours later after trying to hide away from his problems, he’s finished his second vape (star fruit grape) from pure stress.

He’s met with the entire family sans Jason giving him the most disappointed and concerned look he’s seen since he confessed he lost his spleen and didn’t tell anyone.

Damian won’t meet his eye but even then Tim can tell from years of studying his younger that even Damian feels a little guilty for outing him, but as Dick looks close to tears with how upset he is the others resolve clearly strengthens.

Tim doesn’t blame him, even if he’s mentally going over all the symptoms of nicotine withdrawal.

[flippinpancakes64]

Can I request the cullens x reader whose love language is like playfully bullying, like insults and bickering but like in a joking way they don't actually mean to be rude but they cullens don't know that so they just think reader suddenly doesn't like them anymore.

Thanks for your time❤️

The Cullens with a reader who playfully bullies them

I’ve sort of got this issue where my normal speaking cadence is sarcastic and people don’t know if I’m being honest or not. So I understand the struggle.

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He can tell when you’re joking

You know, reading minds and everything is pretty helpful in that scenario

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t get confused sometimes tho

He knows you like to tease him from time to time

And he never usually takes it personally

But for some reason the last comment you made on his hairdo really got to him

Somehow he missed the playful hint in your mind and now he’s sulking

Like actually pouting

He is up in the piano room sadly plinking on the keys

You have to go up there and personally apologize

Obviously he can look into your mind and tell that you’re being serious

This kinda thing happens from time to time, him missing those little cues

But he’s pretty easy to reason with afterwards

Just apologize profusely for hurting his feelings

Alice:

She’s got some pretty thick skin

Especially when it comes to physical attributes about herself

Except for her hair

Vampire hair can’t grow and in the books/graphic novel it’s a lot choppier and shorter

She does her best, but it can never fully live up to her fashion standards

So all it takes is one backhanded remark about her hair and she’s really upset

She won’t tell you, she just excuses herself

She’ll bring it back up later when she’s more calm though

She needs a bunch of cuddles and kisses to forgive you

And even then you might have to go shopping with her

Jasper:

He’s a bit insecure when it comes to certain things

Namely the scars on his arms

He doesn’t mind your playful bullying

But when you joke about something he’s so ashamed of, he shuts down

He knows that you know that it’s a touchy subject for him

So he assumes that you’re trying to hurt his feelings

He stays in the forest for a day or two

He intends to be alone

Since you don’t want him, he’ll stay away

You’re gonna have to go find him and stop him from moping and being sad

Apologize profusely right now

And tell him you didn’t mean it

He can sense the sincerity coming from you

And even though he is still a little hurt, he’ll forgive you

Just don’t bring up his scars again

Rosalie:

She’s also one to playfully bully you

Sometimes she crosses the line

But she’s always quick to fix it

She’s not going to let shit stew

If you insulted her in some way and didn’t seem like you were joking, she asks you about it immediately

Not one to beat around the bush

And as long as you clarify that it was a joke, you didn’t mean it, etc, she doesn’t hold a grudge

If you didn’t mean it to be harmful, she won’t take it that way

Overall she’s pretty chill when it comes to misunderstandings

However, if there’s ever a time where she can’t talk to you about it quick enough to resolve things, she’s angry

She starts second guessing herself, asking if you really meant it, why you would say that, other things

She just gets really pissed off

Like she could punch something

Not you of course

But again, she doesn’t wait around

As soon as both of you are available to talk about it she’s striking up the conversation

10/10 communicator

Emmett:

He’s got thick skin

But he’s also easily confused

He doesn’t understand sarcasm too well

He just hears the insult and he’s like “…babe?”

So if you wanna play bully him you’re gonna have to explain that it’s a joke

Usually he catches on if you start laughing afterwards

But if you don’t, he’s lost

It’s happened a couple times

Usually he asks right after you say it if you mean it

And he just looks at you with these wide eyes and you can’t resist

But if you double down, maybe you’re in a more playful mood, it just re-establishes it to him

And he just sort of says “oh…ok” and walks away all sad

You’re gonna have to go find him to apologize

And don’t do it again

Esme:

She also gets a bit confused by it

Like wdym your way of showing affection is by insulting me???

She doesn’t get it

And she’s pretty upfront with the fact that she would prefer if you were just… nice to her

We love a partner who can properly communicate their boundaries

Because of this, every time you do insult her and take it a step too far, she takes it personally

She gets really hurt

And when she’s hurt she tends to isolate a little

Please go find her and apologize

And cuddle

And watch a movie

And whatever else she wants to do

Carlisle:

He’s sort of similar to Esme

He’s not a big fan of the playful bullying

But he does understand it better

He’s not too fond of the fact that sometimes you make fun of his clothes or his hair

But he also knows when you’re joking

He doesn’t ask you to stop

But he does set very clear boundaries

If you go after something he’s insecure about or he feels you shouldn’t joke about, he tells you

It’s very very rare that he misunderstands you

He knows that’s just how you are

And he doesn’t usually take it personally either

What can I say he’s a very well rounded guy

Vampire! Bella:

She’s got some insecurities, we all know that

Specifically when it comes to the other vampires

If you say literally anything about her not being as graceful, as smart, as funny, literally anything, she is so upset

She wants to be like the other Cullens so bad that if you say anything like that she shuts down

She trusts you, and even though she knows you like to joke around, this is the one thing she can’t joke about

You’re gonna need to apologize a whole lot

And even then she’ll be touchy

Just don’t talk about that tho and you’ll be good

[suashii]

𝒮𝒫𝒪𝐼𝐿𝐸𝒟 — kuroo tetsuro x reader. 0.7 wc. sfw. fluff.

today was normal in every aspect. morning routines within the apartment went smoothly and you and your boyfriend had decent days out before returning home for the evening. the two of you cooked and ate dinner together, enjoying each other’s company for the first time in hours. and when you finished, kuroo, being the gentlemen he is, offered to clean up the table and take care of the dishes while you began washing up.

“have you seen my sleep shorts, tetsu? the blue ones,” you call out from the bedroom.

kuroo had been responsible for the laundry this week. he’s usually good about making sure he doesn’t leave any lone garments in the washer or dryer and he clearly recalls folding the specific pair of shorts you’re asking about. he must have put them away with his clothing by mistake.

“check my top drawer,” he yells over his shoulder, hoping his voice is loud enough to carry over the running water. he hums to himself as he rinses off the last dish, setting it on the drying rack. it’s only when kuroo is shaking the soapy water from his hands that he realizes his mindless blunder. he has been purposely trying to keep you out of his side of the dresser for the past few weeks so as to conceal a certain object.

“wait, don’t look in there!” water drips from the tips of his fingers as he rushes out of the kitchen and down the hall to stop you from finding what he’s been trying so hard to keep hidden.

though, when he finally reaches the doorway of your bedroom, you’re frozen. seems like he was a little too late.

“what’s this?” you inquire, clasping a small velvet box in your shaky hand. your eyes slowly drag away from the unexpected discovery and meet kuroo’s frantic ones.

“… a ring.” if his hands weren’t already covered in suds, kuroo is sure they’d be sweating beyond his control. you weren’t supposed to find that for at least a couple more weeks. scratch that—you weren’t supposed to find it at all.

“for me?” you question, your tone more steady and even than before.

“perhaps,” he answers.

“perhaps? don’t tell me i’m the side piece,” you try to joke. you know there’s no way kuroo would be unfaithful, but you’re having a hard time wrapping your head around the events playing out before your eyes.

“of course not. i just meant that i never got to ask before you found it.” he shrugs, finally stepping past the threshold of the doorway and into the room. “i didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

no matter how hard you try, you can’t think of a time when the air felt so tense between the two of you. knowing that you are partially to blame, albeit unintentionally, you clear your throat with the goal of resolving the mess that you created. “i know you weren’t planning on it, but you can do it now.”

“do what?” he asks, caving and wiping what was left of the foam from his hands onto his pants.

“propose, dummy.” you toss the box to kuroo, which he catches effortlessly. “that’s what the ring is for, right?”

“yeah…”

“then do it. i have my answer.”

a bright shade of red flushes across kuroo’s cheek as he considers your words. you’re right, he had no intention of proposing so soon, but now that the cat is out of the bag, it only makes sense to. even simply thinking of it is nerve-wracking, yet the thought of walking on eggshells around you until he builds up his courage sounds even worse. so, he buries the jitters ravaging his body before opening the box and kneeling down on one knee.

“will you—”

“yes!” your feet are moving on their own, launching you into kuroo’s chest. your body crashing into his sends him flying backward, his back hitting the carpeted floor with a thud. he doesn’t have time to focus on the discomfort of it all before you’re showering his cheeks and forehead in excited kisses.

“you didn’t even let me finish the question,” kuroo chuckles, pulling the ring from its case and sliding it onto your fourth finger. 

“i already ruined your original plan, no harm in cutting the formalities short.” you hold your hand out to inspect the jewelry, a wide smile spreading across your face.

“i guess you’re right,” kuroo agrees, lovingly gazing at you.

“not to ruin the moment any further,” you start, fighting back a laugh, “but we really need to have a talk about your horrible hiding place.”

[writingroom21]

Hi hello! I love your writing and I thought I would send a request idea I had if you’re willing.

Could you do a Rafe x reader where they recently started dating and went to high school together but the reader has always been a big nerd but she “got hot” after leaving high school, however she still hangs out with the same group of “nerds” as high school which consists of a few guys and Rafe just doesn’t like the types of people you hang out with because “he doesn’t think they’re good enough for her” and she’s constantly reminding him thats not fair or true since she is still one of the and has been since they were kids. Rafe’s insecure because his friends say that if he doesn’t chill out on his jealousy she’ll probably dump him for one of her friends if she realises how much of an asshole he really is. -Maybe they resolve it with a Lord of the rings movie night with her friends🩵🪼

Nerd

Warnings: none

Wc: 2.1K

A/N: Hey! Thank you so much! I hope you like this and never be afraid to send requests

Once again here he is sitting off to the side not knowing what the hell you are talking about. You and your friends are going on and on about some fantasy book series he hasn’t even heard of. This seems to be a constant since the two of you got together a few months back. You would mention or quote something he knows nothing about. Normally he wouldn’t care because no girl lasts long but you were different.

Sometimes he still feels bad for the person he was when you were both in highschool. He can remember hearing your name but for the life of him he couldn’t remember actually seeing you anywhere. Which would make sense since you ran in two different social groups. Rafe was the typical rich cool kid that thought he was better than everyone else. You well you were the nerd in the front of the class that knew every answer.

Back then he wouldn’t have even thought twice about you. To be honest he probably walked past you in the halls and never noticed you. But one day a few months back he was out with Topper and saw you. He thought you were hot and wanted to get your number. 

“Yo know who that is?” Topper looks at where Rafe is pointing to and sees you. “Yeah that's the girl from your homeroom. Remember the one that wore the stupid Harry Potter shirt.” Rafe tries to think hard but he doesn’t recall the memory. “Nah don’t remember her.” Topper laughs and claps a hand over his shoulder. “That was because she hung out with the nerdy kids and you were too popular to care.”

He honestly doesn’t even know why you gave him a chance. It seemed like the two of you were completely different people yet here you were. You smiled at him and every girl was just done for him. All of his thoughts were consumed about you. What you were doing that day. What your favorite color was. Even if your family would like him.

Getting your number and not blowing the first date was his best achievement to date. But that all seemed futile when he couldn’t keep you entertained like your friends. It started out small, you saying random quotes when you would hang out. He would always go “Huh?” then you would try to explain what you were saying. Only to say “It’s okay that you don’t get it. It’s not your thing.” Which only made him feel even worse.

It’s not like he hated your hobbies or what you were interested in. If he had one wish it would be used to make himself less moronic. That’s what it really came down to for him. He felt dumb.

You would tell him about the books you were reading or the shows and he would get a thing. Sure some of them were fantasy so he knows that it isn’t real but it didn’t make him feel any less dumb. He could hear how you and your friends talk when you are on the phone and they get it. They understand all of your jokes, quotes and references. For heaven's sake you even seem to laugh more with them than you do him.

It got to the point where everyone in his life was ganging up on him for his feelings. It feels like he can’t even voice his concerns without someone calling him out.

“All they talk about is that dumb show. I tried to watch it once with them and they kept asking me questions about it. “Oh Rafe, what did you think about Donna being their daughter?”, “Can you believe that David Tennet is back for a short time. It’s so cool,” I swear they are doing it to make me look dumb.”

Topper and Kelce share a look with each other. This isn’t the first time Rafe has brought up this topic with them. It usually consists of them just nodding along to what he says, not wanting to get too involved. “It honestly sounds like they are trying to include you.” Kelce says.

Rafe shoots him a look from across the table. “Man you don’t get it. It’s the way they say it, like they know I don’t understand and want me to trip up.” Kelce shifts in his seat. “Maybe they are actually trying to be nice. But you know they are nervous about having a new person in the group so the tone comes off weird. I don’t know man.” Rafe is trying to see how that could be the case but the piece won’t fit. “No, they are just not good enough for her. They can’t accept the fact she changed and is with me. It’s just some ploy to get her to leave me.”

“Well if you keep talking like that then maybe she will leave you. These are her friends she’s had for years. They just are trying to include you because you’re her boyfriend.” Topper stares back at Rafe, daring him to say something. “You don’t get it.” Rafe tries to start back up again but Topper isn’t having it.

“No Rafe you don’t get it. This is who she is, sure she’s gotten better looking. But deep down all that stuff is what she’s interested in. Those are her friends for a reason, that’s because they love her and relate to her. How long do you think you can continue being jealous of that before she realizes she’s better off?”

Rafe doesn’t say anything sitting there as Topper keeps going. “You’re lucky she hasn’t heard you say any of this. Could you imagine how hurt she would be if she knew how you were talking about her friends? I may not know her that well but I sure as hell know that it would make her sad. Plus what you don’t like them for is a part of her. She could take that as you not liking who she really is and wanting to change her.”

Kelce just nods along, agreeing with all of the points made. “He’s right dude. You need to control yourself or you won’t have a girlfriend anymore.” 

That conversation has been playing in his mind for the past two weeks. Everytime he talked or saw you he would look at how you behaved. He knew you liked it but it never fully clicked that you really like it. You like reading fantasy books over anything else. You like talking about movies like Star Wars. Like dressing up as characters with your friends for some convention.

All of the evidence was right in front of him and he never fully noticed. It made him feel even more shitty because how couldn’t he know all of this? He was your boyfriend but was too wrapped up in his version of you to see the real you. But now that he is really looking he can see the real you and it’s better than he thought. You were even funnier when he got past the feeling of being dumb.

You even smile a bit bigger when you fully pay attention and comment on things. It’s not like he didn’t pay attention to you, just that his mind was often clouded with the thoughts of him not being good enough. He doesn’t get how he could be so wrapped up in himself and not focus on you. He’s been trying hard to fix all of that but sitting here not knowing what you are talking about isn’t helping. 

All of your friends are commenting on different characters and plot lines. Rafe couldn’t even keep up if he wanted to. A hand resting on his thigh snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks down to see your manicured nails and the ring he got you. Enveloping your hand in his, he brings it to his lips to give it a kiss.

You lean closer to him, whispering in his ear. “Are you okay?” He smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Making you scoot closer to rest against his side. “I am now.” You look up and give him a weird look, wanting to ask him what he meant.

“Hey lovebirds, what are you talking about?” One of your friends, he thinks her name is Sam, asks. “Nothing, just how hot he is.” You and your friends all giggle like school girls. “Actually I was asking what you are all talking about.” He took everyone by surprise, even himself. Usually when you have Rafe around your friends he’s super awkward, not really saying anything. This is the first time he actually tried to participate in a conversation.

“Oh it’s this book series I started called His Dark Materials. Technically I’m reading to my niece but it’s a good book so far.” Rafe nods. “What is it about?” He can’t see it but you have the biggest smile on your face proud of him for trying with your friends. Sam goes on to tell Rafe all about the book so far. Telling him that he should give it a read.

“Oh I don’t really read and never got into fantasy stuff like that.” The room went silent, all eyes on him. At first he thought he said something wrong, offended them somehow. It wasn’t until Becky shrieked that he realized that wasn’t the issue. “Does that mean you’ve never read Lord of the Rings?” The guilty look on his face was enough of an answer for them.

They all groan and you have to hide in his neck so they can’t see you laughing. It wasn’t like they didn’t know he didn’t find their interests well interesting. They all knew that but somehow had some false hope that he was a secret nerd like them. Like hello he is literally dating you, the biggest nerd out of all of them. “Dude how can you be dating someone who hasn’t read the book? Tell me you’ve seen the movies.” 

His leg starts bouncing afraid that once he leaves they will tell you to dumb him. “Um no, never watched them.” Their groans get more desperate with his answer. You sit back properly and try to contain your giggles. “Come on guys, not everyone is going to like them.” His hand squeezes your shoulder, soothing you.

“It’s okay. Never had anyone to really show them to me. Maybe all of you can tell me what I’m missing out on.” That peace offering opened up a whole can of worms. You and your friends spent hours telling him all about the series. Even after you both had left it was all you could talk about. Then a couple of days later he was added into a group chat with all of your friends.

Sam: Welcome to our Chamber of Secrets

Sam: That was a Harry Potter reference btw

Rafe: I actually understood that one

Becks: See he’s already learning

You: Guys don’t bombarded him with messages. You all said you’d be on your best behavior.

Sage: Dude this is like big. We are letting him in the group. Feel special we don’t do this for anyone.

Rafe: I definitely feel special. Thank you

Claire: We want you to join campaign

Rafe: Campaign?

Claire: Yeah you know DnD. Dungeons and Dragons

Rafe: Oh that’s really nice of you but I’ve never played

You: She’s joking. We want to watch Lord of The Rings this weekend. That way you can see what we were talking about. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.

Rafe: Phew I was scared for a second. I’m down

That brings him to Saturday, sitting on a tiny loveseat with you curled up on his side. The first movie was almost done and he doesn’t find himself hating it. He likes hearing all of the commentary you all share. Giving him inside tips about the movie he wouldn’t have picked up on. Telling him parts from the books he wouldn’t wouldn’t have known about. 

“Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper. You were trying to keep your voice down to not disrupt everyone else watching. Rafe looks down at you, smiling before pecking your lips. “For what?” You pull the blanket to cover the both of you better, snuggling him. “Doing this for me. I know this isn’t how you like to spend your weekends. So thank you for sacrificing something for me.”

“It’s not a sacrifice. You deserve to have someone who tries things you like. I want to be that person.” You give his thigh squeeze. “You’ll always be my person.”

[riaki]

ᴄɪɢᴀʀᴇᴛᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛᴡᴏ | ᴀᴋɪ ʜᴀʏᴀᴋᴀᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

syn: as strong-willed as he thinks he is, aki can't help but indulge you every once in a while. he's too weak for you. or, aki shotguns you.

in the past, aki would’ve never admitted to being an addict.

whether it be the cigarettes that are always a few inches away from his twitching fingers, tucked in his pocket— or the alcohol he lets himself indulge in as a sort of tradition he'd treat himself to; a toast to the next day he lives to see, he likes to think his resolve is a little stronger than an itch in his lungs here and there.

still, it's not like he refrains from doing it— his policy is that he's going to end up in the grave soon one way or another, so in his eyes, it's just one rusted nail in the coffin that's a sliver away from being sealed. you’ve complained about it before, but he just can’t rip himself away from the smoke. it’s too bad he can’t turn you pocket sized and carry you around in his palm; you’re a great substitute to the hit of nicotine in terms of soothing his constantly buzzing mind.

his leniency towards those types of things dashes when it comes to you, though. like the breaking foam of waves that crash against a rocky shoreline.

“i said, no.”

aki thought he’d already been firm enough with you the first time, but evidently not. even so, no matter how much you pout and whine— he is not letting you take a drag from his cigarette.

normally, he wouldn’t care. it’s not like he’s never shared one before— he used to steal drags from himeno all the time, until you expressed your disdain and he stopped immediately. it’s not that he doesn’t find your jealousy cute— quite the opposite, in fact. he just doesn’t want you getting any stupid ideas.

you’re certainly not making it easy for him, though.

“come on aki, please?” it’s not uncommon for you to plead like that. since you’ve started dating, aki, or rather, you, have found that the best way to melt his strength of will is to beg.

aki likes taking care of you. it’s in his nature; whatever spirit of a big brother that was left in him after he lost his family gradually nurtured and bloomed in your relationship, especially with someone as… irresponsible as you.

as such, it’s his (self appointed, you’d argue) job to make sure you’re in good health. and he’s very quickly picked up on the fact that learning to say no to you is the one and only lifeline keeping this relationship from drifting off into an irreversible spiral of spoiling you to no end.

in this particular instance, you approached him one morning with a poorly hidden agenda; the balcony door slid open as warmth from the apartment mingled with the chilly early morning breeze. aki was immersed in his newspaper and halfway through a cigarette when you’d spoken up, with the request to ‘have a taste’. he’d immediately said no and left you looking like a sad wet cat on the porch to make breakfast.

he’s regretting that decision thoroughly, now. you won’t stop bugging him, and even though he finds comfort in the sound of your voice, it’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. not because you’re annoying, but that he knows if you say his name in that tone a few more times he’ll fold.

“why not? you do it all the time! i just want to give it a try.” you sighed softly, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the cold marble of the kitchen counter, watching him wash dirty carrots. the vivid green leaves bob up and down beneath the pressure of the sink water as he scrubs them clean, before looking down at you.

“it rots your bones.”

“your bones are fine!”

“i already told you i’m not going to let you. just give it up, love.” he murmurs, turning his attention back to the vegetables in his hands. “cutting board, please.”

you oblige and lean over the counter, grabbing the wooden board from where it leans against the counter wall and hand it over to him. his hands are wet, so you don’t let go until you’re sure he has a firm grip on the board. he uses his other hand to turn the faucet off, droplets clinging to the reflective metal.

“aww, don’t be like that. what’s the harm in just one hit?” you protested, hauling yourself onto the countertop, legs dangling over the edge as your heels hit the cupboards. aki rolls his sleeves up again, revealing the pale bandages on his arms as he shakes the water clinging to his fingers off and grabs a knife and begins to cut into the carrots, dicing them up.

“don’t be stupid.” he scoffs, not looking at you. you watch his arm move up and down with each motion, the thud of the knife hitting the dull cutting board. "i always am." you grumbled under your breath, but he just ignores you.

“you know that’s not how it works. how do you even think people get addicted in the first place, [name]?” he murmurs, holding the carrots in place with two fingers on the leaves.

“it starts with one hit. just one cigarette. and then it turns into one pack, and then some.” he knows the process all too well.

you sigh forlornly, propping your elbows up on your knees and supporting your chin in your hands, kicking your feet in the air as you study the cozy kitchen. the potted plant you’ve been taking care of sits in the corner, tear-shaped leaves drooping beneath the shade of the cupboards. aki’s mug of cold coffee sits on the counter next to the sink, half full and calling your name. it’s the only thing he’s allowed you to be addicted to. and him, of course.

“you’re such a hypocrite.” you grumbled half-heartedly, rolling your eyes before letting your gaze drift to his profile again, studying the slight purse in his lips as he rests one palm over the blunt edge of the knife and cuts with the other one. you’ve always liked watching him cook; he’s good at it, and there’s something grounding in watching him sprinkle pepper and salt over a simmering pot of homecooked stew on a lazy weekend off.

he finally spares you a glance, peering at you through his dark lashes. his silvery blue eyes reflect a soft shine under the glow of the warm kitchen lights.

“i’m not.” he replies, nose wrinkling slightly as you grin in return and raise an eyebrow.

“sure. why don’t you prove it then, aki?” you challenged, leaning forward to stare down at him. even though you’re perched atop the counter, you’re still barely taller than him. not that you mind, though. you both know all of him belongs to you.

aki frowns, before shaking his head. “i don’t need to prove myself to you.” he mutters under his breath, giving you a resigned sigh. his topknot is messier than usual today; probably because you insisted on doing it for him.

he doesn’t even need to look at you to see the pout weighing on your lips; it shows through your voice when you speak again, as he dumps the carrot chunks into a plastic bowl and cleans his knife off on his apron.

“you’re no fun.” you complained, letting your hands fall to the edge of the marble as your fingers curl around the countertop. the sound of the city drifts in through the crack in the balcony door; the sound of trains whizzing by and the bustle of workers on their morning commute filters in through the breeze, a soundtrack to your morning. aki just bites his tongue and sighs.

you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even notice him step away from the cutting board, dumping the carrot bits into a plastic container and leaving the knife behind on the wood to stand in front of you. your knees graze his middle as he reaches behind you, looking for something on the kitchen counter and your breath catches for a moment when he leans in—

until he pulls back again, a pack of cigarettes in his hand. one end of the box is torn, a hole where he taps his finger on the other end and a cigarette slides out, a bundle of drug and addiction. you're about to be excited when you notice the brand label on the blue cardboard— wild raven, the same one himeno smokes. you know it's petty to be upset over such a thing, but that doesn't stop you from pouting like a petulant child (again), crossing your arms over your chest and nudging his shin with your foot.

aki is observant; it's not like he doesn't notice this. he just ignores it in favor of searching for his lighter, leaning over you to reach the elevated shelf of the counter where he last left the lighter you gave him, decked with worn stickers that rubbed off and left papery residue over time. the material is cold against his hands as he rubs his thumb over the cap; the feeling is familiar.

he clears his throat and your attention snaps back to him, like a moth drawn to a lamp. his expression is unreadable, but you try your best to decipher it anyway. you're only able to catch a hint of uncertainty in the slight frown on his lips before he speaks again and you're distracted by his smooth voice.

"i'll make a compromise. come here," he murmurs, tapping his index finger against the film and coaxing a stick out. it slips from the box and he catches it between his fingers, tipping the lid off and thumbing the spark wheel absentmindedly. not enough to strike a flame by any means— but it's enough for fireworks to go off in your gut as you look up at him again and scoot closer on the counter.

"what are you going to do?" you asked curiously, eyeing the cancer stick as he rolls it between his fingers. it slides down his knuckles and he catches it between his middle and index finger, lighting the tip with one swift flick of the lighter.

"you'll see." he answers simply, tearing his gaze off the cigarette to look back at you again as he slots it between his lips. suddenly you're mesmerized; the only thing you can focus on is the curve of his lips and the way the cig balances between them. you hear him breathe in as he leans a little closer to you, standing between your knees as he slowly inhales.

you're mesmerized. there's always been this draw when it comes to aki— something you can't place but that you recognize to be alluring; right now, the only thoughts running through your mind aren't about the cigarette so tantalizing close within your reach like a forbidden apple, or the wet carrot chunks left unattended in the plastic strainer. the only thing on your mind is how close he is, and what he'd taste like if you kissed him right now.

unfortunately for you, there's a stick of paper and drugs blocking your path.

fortunately for you, aki seems to have read your mind.

in one swift motion, he takes his cigarette out his mouth and leans forward, using his free hand to tilt your chin up. he notices the way your lips part like it's muscle memory whenever his own lips are close— it makes him smile; a minuscule, amused twitch of his lips as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. it curls in mini storm clouds like some sort of deathly mouth to mouth, and aki's fingers gently press into your chin to make sure the smoke settles in nicely, trapped between two lovers in a haze.

and before you can even process what just happened, the sensation of his lips pushing hungrily against yours floods your brain, sending a jolt of tingling electricity down your spine as the blaring alarms going off in your brain from the unfamiliar sensation of the smoke are silenced.

a fire spreads through your veins like molten lead as he kisses you, a veil of smoke drifting into the air, curling and snaking about like an oriental dragon made of vapor. it's as if you've been burned by the cherry itself; your cheeks feel hot and you can feel aki's fingers tremble slightly as they find your face, his thumb barely brushing over your cheek gingerly it's as if the slightest hint of pressure might make you vanish into thin air. he tastes like rich coffee and sweet smoke, and something bitter.

you're acutely aware of the way his other arm snakes around your waist, trapping you against the cold marble counter as your teeth graze his bottom lip and his fingers curl into your side. it's something straight out of your wildest dreams until the smoke clogs your throat like cobwebs and you rapidly pull away, coughing as your eyes burn and you cover your mouth. a rare laugh escapes aki's lips, and you shoot him a glare, to which he only ignores, letting it burn away.

it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts as you stare up at his face, pleasantly dusted strawberry red under the glow of the kitchen lights, the tips of his ears pink with a crude mix of want and embarrassment.

"you could've given me a warning next time." is the only thing you're able to get out, the rest of your words dying on your tongue as you cough again to soothe the itch in your throat, rubbing your eyes as you sulk.

it's such a childish thing to do, and yet aki can't help but find it endearing. he's in over his head, and he knows it's far too late to turn back now.

he grabs the ashtray he keeps on the cluttered kitchen counter, smushing the glowing red cherry of the cigarette into the ashtray, extinguishing the life from the ash as it fizzles out, and your hopes go with it.

"wait— you're not gonna do it again?" he glances down at you, blue eyes sharp with a sour expression on his pretty face. it's like you squeezed lemon juice onto his tongue.

"no. like hell i'm letting you get away with more," he says firmly, shaking his head as he steps away from you again. he has a sixth sense for when you're about to complain, so he puts a hand over your mouth to stop the noise from escaping before you can start.

even with the way you're glaring daggers at him, just the fact that you can stand to look at him after he violated your personal space like that makes his chest constrict. it's as if his heart is trying to burrow out of his chest and find its way into your palm. he looks away again to hide the flush on his face.

even then, it was a mistake to keep his fingers over your mouth, because he can feel the very instant your lips curve into a soft, doting smile that only worsens this touchy predicament he's found himself in.

"pleeeeease, aki?" even though your voice is barely audible, it's too much, and you can tell. before he can even blink, he finds himself staring up at you with his chin on your chest and your fingers tangled in his hair, newly loose with his hairtie around your wrist. it would've been cute if not for the shit-eating grin on your smug face.

aki groans and hides his face in your shirt, reluctantly letting you pull him closer. as much as he'd like to ignore the effect you have on him and continue preparing a warm lunch for the two of you, his willpower has melted away like the wax on a candle, no fight left in him to protest as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

"you're too much." he grumbles irritably, voice muffled.

you only smile, and although he can't see it, he can hear it when you speak, and it makes his heart pound wildly between his rotting lungs.

"you love me." and he hates how you don't even realize just how right you are.

aki doesn't consider himself a hopeless romantic. but if there's one thing to ever be addicted to, you're it.

[nocturne-pisces]

Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off. 

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night. 

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve. 

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.” 

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt. 

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt. 

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust. 

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.” 

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.” 

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet. 

“What is going on with you?” 

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either. 

“What, like your period?” 

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels. 

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar. 

“You two. Out.” 

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer. 

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane. 

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties. 

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room. 

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest. 

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle. 

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep. 

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you. 

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?” 

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front. 

“Yeah, me, shithead.” 

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter. 

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.” 

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!” 

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!” 

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.” 

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun. 

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“ 

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up. 

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“ 

You don’t let him finish. You rush him,  connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t. 

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward. 

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together. 

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth. 

Because he is beautiful; 

and he is broken. 

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow. 

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache. 

So you show him your own. 

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress. 

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange. 

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you. 

He happened to you too. 

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos. 

And that's okay too.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 49

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————-

Monday, February 8th; 11:45 AM - In class.

Returning to reality is hard. I'm bored to death with these classes. If Lucy saw me, she'd probably lecture me for slouching over my desk trying to follow this pointless lesson. I wish we could have extended our weekend. It was so much more enjoyable, even with the little incident Feli caused on Saturday night. I keep thinking about it. Lucy was so sweet to me from beginning to end. I was so worried, but now I regret that the weekend was too short. Plus, seeing my brother again was such a joy. It broke my heart when it was time to leave. He didn’t want to let us go, and he even cried. I felt sorry for Hector, who had to stay with him. Luckily, the holidays are coming soon. We have just one more week. I’m eagerly looking forward to it, so much so that I feel like these next few days are going to drag on. It’s well known that excitement tends to slow down time. If all goes well, I'll spend those two weeks with Lucy. The first week is certain, since we'll be going to the Alps with her friends. She told me she'd handle the planning with Ingrid during the day.

- "You seem lost in thought," Alessia murmurs. "Is everything okay?"

- "Yeah," I say, sitting up and giving her a shy smile.

I’ve never felt so good. Of course, I still have problems, but the biggest ones are now resolved. My smile fades for a moment as I recall the events of last week. With everything that happened, I haven't had the chance to speak to my friends since the cafeteria incident. I did check in with Alexia via text, but that was it. I got bombarded with questions this morning. If I had at least had one meal with them, I could have avoided this situation. But I don’t regret eating with Lucy. I was still too shaken to be around other students. Coming back to school this morning reminded me why I wasn't ready for that. The students made me the center of attention. I hated it. My friends told me that a bunch of rumors had spread after the fight. The first was about Korbin getting expelled, but for me, it was a different story. The students thought I was in the hospital, considering the beating I took. The scene in the cafeteria must have been something for them to think that. After hearing all this, I’m not surprised everyone is staring at me. Sure, I still have a few marks, but everything’s healing pretty well, thanks to Lucy’s weekly care.

- "I wanted to apologize," I said.

- "For what?"

- "For being radio silent until today. I shouldn't have worried you. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be so concerned."

- "You're our friend; it's normal to worry."

- "Yeah, but you know, except for Mapi, I was never close to many people. But now that I have you guys, it’s… I don’t know. I’m glad to have you."

- "We’re glad to have you too," she smiles. "Just don’t leave us without news next time. We saw you Thursday morning, so we knew you were okay, but we still wondered why you were absent the next day."

- "I promise, next time I'll let you know."

I return her smile. I've grown closer to them, so I can’t shy away now. I’m relieved when the bell rings right after our conversation. I hope the rest of the week doesn’t pass as slowly as this half-day. I’ll die of boredom otherwise. My only motivation is that I’ll see Lucy every evening since we’ll be sharing her room again this week. She told me she’d be busy these next five days, so I��ll have to make do with our evening classes and nights together. I hope I can manage. She’s been my support these past few days, and I already feel lost without her by my side. In the meantime, I content myself with my friends. Specifically, Alessia. She’s telling me all about what I missed last week, and her stories are pretty funny. I stop laughing, though, when we run into Lucy walking in the opposite direction just as we’re about to leave the building. I step aside to avoid getting in anyone’s way.

- "Hey," I say with a smile, happy to see her.

My smile fades when I realize she’s not looking at me. Her attention is focused on Alessia beside me, and she’s giving her a dirty look before finally turning to me.

- "Hi," she finally responds. "You know we already saw each other this morning, right?" she jokes.

- "Uh, yeah," I say awkwardly, making her smile.

- "I don’t have much time to chat, but we’ll meet after class. I’ll be done with what I have to do by then, so we can work on your assignments."

- "Really? I don’t want to waste your time. If you’re too busy, Alessia can help me."

- "No. I insisted on helping you with your studies, so I’m not going to abandon you," she replies.

I suppress my smile at the tone of her voice. Oh, so she has an issue with Alessia... I didn’t see that coming.

- "Alright. I’ll be there," I simply reply.

- "You better be. You can’t back out now."

- "I wasn’t planning to," I tease.

- "Good," she smiles. "See you later in the classroom."

- "Aren’t you going to eat?"

- "I just finished. I wanted to avoid the crowd and save time."

- "Oh," I say, struggling to hide my disappointment.

She smiles at me, as if she understands how I feel. I wish she could have been there with me. Just seeing her in front of me would have given me courage. She ruffles my hair affectionately before slowly walking away.

- "See you in a few hours," I whisper.

- "See you in a few hours," she repeats.

I sigh as I watch her walk away. I wish I could follow her. I turn back to Alessia, who raises an eyebrow with a small smile.

- "Study session, huh? I guess things are better between you two if you're willing to ditch me."

- "Oh... Uh, yeah. I should’ve told you," I grimace as we head outside to join the others.

They were waiting for us at the exit. We follow them to the cafeteria as they start walking when they see us.

- "I’m really sorry, but because of my terrible grades, Bronze wanted to take charge again."

- "So, things are better between you?"

- "I... Yeah, you could say that."

- "You could say that?" she giggles. "You seemed pretty happy to see her just now," she smiles.

- "You’re exaggerating... It’s just that I didn’t expect to see her. She told me she’d be very busy today."

- "Who, besides you, tries to run into their supervisor?" she teases.

- "Alright... You’re right. Probably no one," I giggle. "I can’t help it if I enjoy spending time with her. She... I don’t know. I need her, that’s all. With what happened last week, she once again proved that to me."

- "Uh-huh..." she smiles.

- "What?"

- "Nothing," she says with a smirk.

- "Oh, come on. I know you well enough by now to know you’re thinking something."

- "No, I’m not saying anything," she says, raising her hands. "You might take it the wrong way again, and I don’t want to risk it."

- "Of course not," I protest.

- "I’m sure you would," she laughs. "Please drop it. I really don’t want you to get upset again."

- "Fine," I sigh.

I don’t insist, knowing that if she doesn’t want to talk about it, she must have a good reason. I don’t want to create any tension between us when we’ve been getting along so well these past few days. I step into the cafeteria hall as she holds the door for me. I barely take a few steps before Alexia half-jumps on me, putting her arm around my shoulders. I wince, holding back a cry of pain to avoid worrying her. Though my injuries are healing, they are far from fully recovered.

- "Classes are so depressing," she groans. "I’m so glad we’re on break!"

- "I totally agree."

- "You guys can’t complain. We only have one week left," Alessia comments.

- "Yeah, Especially the first week. Oh my God, I can’t wait!"

- "I can’t agree more," I say with a knowing smile.

- "What do you mean...?" Ale asks, slowing down. "Wait, don’t tell me—"

She stops completely, making me chuckle. I hadn’t told her the good news yet. This vacation is going to be amazing. I’ll be surrounded by all the people I’m closest to: Lucy, Mapi, and Alexia. Gradually, a smile spreads across Alexia’s face as if she’s just figured it out.

- "No, but wait... Really?"

I shrug, smiling even more. I reply with a wink before continuing with Alessia toward the buffet, who no longer tries to understand our half-spoken conversation. Thankfully. She’s a good analyst, and I don’t want her starting to ask questions.

- "Ona Batlle! What don’t I know about!?"

- "Oh, a lot of things," I giggle. "Let’s talk about it tonight, okay?"

"You have no idea how much I hate you right now for leaving me in suspense!"

I laugh, not saying anything more. I get the feeling Alessia is already asking herself questions, so I don’t want to add fuel to the fire by feeding her curiosity. We finally change the subject as we return to our table.

Monday, February 8; 5:45 PM - Lucy and Ingrid’s Office.

For the fifth time, I try to slide my hand onto Lucy’s thigh, but she stops me again, this time with a grumble. I pout as she furrows her brows once more.

- "You need to stop that."

- "I need to touch you," I groan.

She smiles softly, tilting her head. Coming from me, that might be confusing. I’ve never felt such a primal need before. Lucy has always been the one to offer me affection, and it’s frustrating that she’s denying it now.

- "Since when, huh?"

I shrug, blushing slightly. I missed her today. It was the first day we’ve been apart in four days.

- "Just wait a few more minutes until the building empties. In the meantime, focus. You’re far from done with your exercise."

I slump, resting my head on my hand and letting out a long groan. I’m getting tired of these management exercises. It’s been nearly an hour, and I’m almost back to square one.

- "Um, hello."

I lift my head to see a new presence in the room. Ingrid isn’t here tonight, so I wanted to take the opportunity to get Lucy’s attention, but now I understand why she didn’t want that. We could still be caught at any moment, like now. I squint as I recognize my management teacher, Mr. Tompson.

- "Hello, Mr. Tompson. How can I help you?" Lucy takes the initiative to ask.

- "I didn’t expect you to have company, actually."

- "Oh, Ona isn’t a problem. I help her with her homework every evening, so I doubt there will be other times to discuss privately. I’ll make sure she stays quiet if it’s an important matter."

- "Actually, it concerns her class."

He glances at me with a gentle smile. I don’t return his smile at all. He caught my attention as soon as he arrived. Lucy sort of confirmed for me that he’s interested in her. That makes me even more eager to defend my territory, but of course, I can’t. As if Lucy sensed that I was seething beside her, she gently squeezes my knee.

- "Well?"

I loosen my grip on my pen and look back down at my paper. Maybe my inattention will encourage my teacher to talk, and that’s exactly what happens. He must have realized that I wasn’t going to leave. There’s no way I’m letting him be alone with Lucy.

- "I was thinking of organizing an outing for their class. It would involve seeing how a company operates. I’m just waiting for responses from the companies I’ve selected."

- "Okay…" Lucy responds uncertainly. "And how does that involve me?"

- "I’m looking for chaperones… Three, to be exact."

- "I see."

- "I was hoping you’d be willing to do it," he adds hesitantly after Lucy’s response.

- "Well, why not, but it’s not my decision to make. You’d better discuss this with the principal."

- "Oh yes, of course! That was my intention," he says quickly. "I just wanted to know if you were agreeable before approaching her."

- "Do you already have the other chaperones?"

- "Another teacher who helped organize the outing will be there. I’m still missing the third person."

- "I can ask Engen. I suppose she’d be interested in coming with us. Of course, it will need Wiegman’s approval first."

- "That’s a good idea. I’ll handle that. Anyway, it’s not happening for a few weeks."

- "Alright, then we’ll discuss it again when the time comes."

- "Bronze…?" I murmur. "I’m stuck here."

A smile spreads across her lips as she presses her hand on my knee a little more. She seems to understand my plea for attention.

- "Excuse me, did I interrupt you?" my teacher asks.

- "No problem," Lucy replies.

- "Well then… I’ll leave you to it. Have a good evening."

- "Thank you, you too."

I watch him leave the room with a nasty look. Fortunately for me, he didn’t notice as he had his back turned. He closes the door halfway at Lucy’s request. I sigh with relief at his departure. He was making the atmosphere heavy. Lucy smiles at me almost mockingly.

- "What?"

- "Oh, nothing."

- "Hmm…"

- "So, what’s your problem?"

- "Oh, I didn’t have one. I just wanted him to leave."

She smiles again and goes back to her work. I groan, resting my head on my palm again.

- "Still, I hadn’t realized how insufferable that guy is."

Lucy lets out a laugh she’s probably been holding in for a while, given its intensity.

- "Hey, don’t make fun of me! It’s the truth."

- "I thought you liked him?"

- "Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind. I like him less now that I know he’s hovering around you."

- "He’s not hovering around me," she rolls her eyes.

- "He likes you and ogles you; it’s all the same to me. Plus, I would’ve preferred to avoid confronting him today, given how much I missed you," I tease her.

She smiles in amusement and surprises me by leaning in to kiss me. I close my eyes, fully enjoying this contact, which I realize has become a necessity for me right now. However, it doesn’t last. I open my eyes to beg for more, which prompts her to respond verbally.

- "I hope you fully enjoyed that little taste to satisfy your needs because that’s going to be my only affectionate gesture in this office tonight. Now get back to work. I want that exercise finished before dinner."

A plaintive whine escapes me. I should’ve expected it, but it’s so frustrating. Knowing that she really means it, I abandon the idea of getting more and change the subject.

- "I can’t do it," I replied.

I’m not sure if I’m talking about the exercise or the affection she’s withholding. She seems to assume it’s the former, judging by her response.

- "I’ve explained it to you three different ways. You can’t tell me you can’t do it. This is clearly a lack of effort on your part, and if you think I’m going to do the exercise for you, you’ve got another thing coming."

I sigh, knowing full well that she’s right about this. In truth, I already understood it the second time she explained it, but I just don’t have the motivation to do it. I still pout, not entirely happy with her attitude. However, I don’t complain to avoid getting scolded for real. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that Lucy won’t act any differently than a supervisor during work hours. With little enthusiasm, I finally dive into my exercise.

Monday, February 8; 8:15 PM - Ona and Alexia’s Room.

- "No way, this can’t be true…" says Alexia, completely shocked. "Why do you always hide so much from me! So, you and Bronze…"

She doesn’t finish her sentence, as if she still can’t believe it enough to say it out loud. I giggle and nod. I just told her we’re a couple. I thought she would’ve guessed when I said everything was settled, but it seems she hadn’t thought that far. She falls back onto the bed across from me. It looks like she’s going to need some time to process this.

- "But like, really?"

- "Yes, Ale," I laugh. "We’re together."

- "B-but, but… How?! We’re talking about Bronze here!"

- "Call her Lucy with me, please," I roll my eyes with a little amused smile.

- "Oh no, no, no. I definitely can’t do that. We’re talking about Bronze!"

I laugh heartily before we look each other in the eye. I wait for her to digest the news. She opens her mouth to speak but then closes it again. She seems to be thinking about what to say before finally speaking.

- "How? I mean, Bronze hates me because I broke the rules by dating Jenni, and she got fired because of me. So how did you get her to break the same rule herself? It’s so unexpected. I mean, of course, I encouraged you, and I hated her for hurting you so much, but… I don’t know. I just never expected her to offer you an intimate relationship, seriously!"

- "Stop it, Lucy doesn’t hate you."

- "Oh yes, yes, yes! She hates me! She made that clear from the start! She’s only become nicer to me since you two started hooking up! And that’s only because we’re friends! Did you say something to her? Oh my God, you must have said something! Otherwise, she wouldn’t be acting so nice to me!"

I chuckle in amusement. The way she’s getting worked up is hilarious. Now she’s standing up, panicking, saying things I can’t even understand anymore because I’m laughing so much.

- "Ale, calm down. I didn’t say anything to her. If she’s doing it for me, I don’t know about it. I can find out If you want.

- Definitely not! Besides… why are you here with me? Don’t you want to go find her?

- Well, you see, I have a friend who pressured me a little to stop by here before heading back to my room. I should hate you for delaying the moment I’ve been waiting for all day, but you’re lucky I like you, I teased.

- Aww, you’re too cute! But go on. I don’t want to keep you. I’ll just try to process this news now that I know.

- No, I think I’ll stay here for a bit. Actually, I need to make Lucy wait. She left me frustrated while I was doing my homework.

Alexia sits back down on her bed, nodding.

- It’s understandable that she’d want to keep things discreet. Her best friend lost her job because of me for the same reason. I doubt she wants to get fired for it too.

- I know… I sighed. I don’t blame her; I get it. Honestly, I just didn’t expect to want to be so touchy-feely with her. I mean, just last week, I could barely stand being touched. Now I’m practically begging her to touch me, even if it’s just once.

- I’ve been saying from the start that you were hooked on her, she teased. But still, I can’t get over it. You two, together? I mean, especially Bronze in a relationship—it’s unimaginable.

- Oh, stop. It’s just because she only shows you the mask she wants you to see. She’s really sweet deep down. I even think she’s hiding her true self, I said with a roll of my eyes.

- What do you mean by that?

- I’m not saying anything. You might never see her the same way again, and I doubt Lucy would appreciate it, I replied with a small, sly smile. I think she likes to keep you on your toes, I chuckled.

- Yeah, well, it’s really not funny, she pouted.

- You know, I can always talk to her if this bothers you that much.

- No, absolutely not! I want to prove to her that I’m a good match for Jenni. I feel like she still doesn’t think so.

- If she doesn’t yet, she will. And I promise I won’t do anything to make that happen.

We exchanged a knowing smile just as there was a knock on the door. A rather timid Lucy entered our room. I raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to show up. I’d seen her after dinner and told her I wouldn’t come by right away.

- Hey, I said. What brings you here?

- I was wondering what was taking you so long.

I raised an eyebrow, noticing it was only twenty past eight. I usually didn’t head back to my room until nine when I stopped by here first.

- Hmm… We were just talking, but I can come back with you if that’s what you want.

- Oh no, it’s just that… she started before cutting herself off. Never mind.

Lucy shifted her gaze from me to my roommate. She raised an eyebrow, making me look at Alexia in turn. Alexia’s cheeks were clearly flushed with embarrassment, probably from staring at her. Lucy sighed, running a hand through her hair.

- She knows, I guess?

- Of course. Don’t think I was going to keep it from her.

- I didn’t say anything, she smiled softly. Well… are you done, or should I leave without you?

- I think we’re done…

- Yeah, sure, Alexia confirmed.

- So, see you tomorrow morning? I asked.

- Yeah, she smiled, getting up to hug me. See you tomorrow morning.

- Good night, I said, before joining Lucy, who had been waiting by the door since the beginning.

Lucy wished her a good night as well before letting me go ahead to leave. We walked through the buildings, taking her shortcut to make the trip quicker.

- You thought I wasn’t coming back? I teased. I usually get back to your room later than this.

- No. Let’s just say I didn’t expect you to take so long. You told me you’d only be fifteen minutes.

- Hmm… And what would have happened if I’d stayed longer, huh?

- It would have meant that I couldn’t enjoy you the way I wanted, she murmured as she opened her bedroom door.

- Well, I started, immediately searching for my things in my suitcase. You didn’t want me to enjoy you in your office either, I replied in a slightly reproachful tone.

- You’re not really mad about that, are you? she teased.

- You don’t know me very well if you think otherwise, I replied with a wink.

She tried to steal a kiss as we moved, but I ignored her and slammed the bathroom door in her face. I heard her groan behind it, which made me stifle a laugh. I expected her to give up—at least, that’s what I would’ve done in her place—but instead, she came into the bathroom just as I was taking off my shirt.

- Luce, get out of here.

- No, she said, blocking me against the sink.

- What’s gotten into you? I sighed, slightly unsettled by her sudden change in behavior.

- You should know that I don't reject you in my office for fun, she replied. I told you that I'd remain your supervisor at school and your girlfriend in private. I thought you understood that. Let's not start taking jabs at each other over this.

Her response made me realize she took my words seriously. Sure, I was a little upset with her for making me wait with just one kiss, but I was mostly joking.

- Sorry, I... It’s just that... Today was hard. I really missed you. I didn’t expect it to be this much. Plus, it was tough dealing with all those rumors and students without you by my side.

Lucy sighed as she pulled me into her arms. I relaxed into her embrace, enjoying the long-awaited hug. She kissed my forehead.

- It was only the first day... You'll have to hold on for three more months because I’m not planning to change my stance on professionalism. Don’t forget that I’m working here.

- I know, I mumbled.

- We’ll have all the time in the world to be together in the evenings, OK?

- Yeah, and after the holidays, huh? I won’t be here in the evenings, remember?

- Well, we’ll have the weekends, she arched an eyebrow. You're not going to get all depressed on me, are you? I didn’t think you were this needy for affection, she teased.

- Well, you’re the one who made me like this.

She laughed and stole a quick kiss from me.

- Now, go take a quick shower and come join me. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this moment all day. I just hide it better than you.

I smiled as I watched her leave. She really does hide it better than I do because I hadn’t noticed. I hurried to wash up and get ready for bed before joining her. She was already waiting in bed with the next Harry Potter movie queued up on her laptop. I quickly joined her, snuggling into her arms. She held me tight and kissed me passionately, showing me just how much she had missed me too.

- So, how was your day otherwise? she asked as she started the movie.

- Long and boring, I sighed. It’s really unbearable. I’m just glad Alessia and the others were there to distract me.

- Alessia, huh?

- What? I asked, smiling slightly, already knowing where this conversation was going.

- You two have gotten close pretty quickly. Is she still into you?

I smiled mischievously. I vaguely mentioned this to her because of what happened on New Year’s Eve. I seriously need to stop talking to her about these things.

- I don’t think so. At least, she knows I’m interested in someone else.

- Really?

- Yeah… But she’s starting to have questions about us, so if you ask me, you might want to save those looks for someone else next time.

I bit my lip and looked up. The scene from this morning was unforgettable. I saw her give Alessia a disapproving look, and I doubt it was accidental. I caught her rolling her eyes before she turned them back to me.

- Why? She’s asking questions?

- I think she suspects that you’re the one I’m interested in. So yeah, I guess she’s asking questions. This morning, she didn’t want to continue a conversation about it, fearing I’d get upset…

- I see, she murmured. I’ll try to control myself. You try to do the same with your management professor, she teased.

- At least I didn’t stare him down!

- Maybe not, but you weren’t exactly pleasant either, she giggled.

- That’s not true.

- Yes, it is, she laughed. It was cute.

I blushed, sinking deeper into her. I turned my attention to the movie that had been playing. Lucy kissed my head, making me smile. It’s funny how easily we express our feelings now when we hid them for weeks before.

- So… I can’t talk to Alessia about us, right? I broke the silence, making Lucy sigh.

- Why do you ask? Do you want to tell her?

- No, but I’m afraid she’ll find out…

- If you ask me, from what you’ve told me, she already suspects. It’s up to us to prove her wrong, which is why we need to stay professional here, especially during work hours.

- You’re right, I murmured.

- I’d love for you to be able to talk to her, but the fewer people who know, the less chance we have of compromising my end of the year. I’d rather we don’t talk about it, no matter how much you trust Alessia or anyone else.

I nodded. It’s definitely too risky. It might be our last year, but I’m not going to risk anything happening in the short time we have left here.

- I won’t say anything.

- So… Do you really like her since you’ve gotten close to her?

I swallowed a smile. She’s really cute when she’s playing jealous.

- She was a good support while you were away… I misjudged her, to be honest.

- You know, if you asked me a question like that, I would have reassured you…

I frowned, worried that I might be misunderstanding the tone of her voice. I looked up to see her smiling softly at me.

- Yes, I’m jealous of her, baby. Unlike me, you could have been open with her in front of your friends.

- I was open with you in Barcelona and even in front of my mom. That was the first time that ever happened. Well, I did it with Mapi in front of our friends, but definitely not as quickly.

- Really…? she murmured.

- Yes.

I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look at her. She suddenly seemed deep in thought. Her hand gently caressed my back.

- What’s on your mind? I whispered.

- I don’t want to rush you into things too quickly. You know that, right?

- Of course. I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. Honestly… I expected this weekend to be a disaster because of my fears, but I ended up loving it… You made me feel comfortable, as you always do. Everything feels so natural between us, and that’s exactly what I need.

She smiled softly before kissing me.

- I’m glad to hear you say that. Don’t hesitate to tell me if anything bothers you, okay?

- Nothing bothers me… But I’ll tell you if something does, I promise. Can we finally watch the movie now?

- Of course, she giggled. Sorry. Come here.

She lifted her arm, and I didn’t hesitate to snuggle as close to her as possible. I love when she holds me in her arms. I used to be afraid of starting a new relationship because I didn’t like physical contact anymore, but now I crave the opposite with Lucy. I buried my head in her neck, thinking about this. I can’t imagine being without her anymore. We’ll need to balance our time during the day and our private moments. I have no doubt she’ll help me with that, even though it will be challenging for both of us, from what I can tell. Lucy is clearly better at hiding it than I am. I hope I can do the same in the coming days, and then the holidays will finally be ours.