#aw fuck i hit the tag limit i gotta stop here anyway yeah me and food are in an unhealthy love-hate relationship <3

[the-angriestpineapple]

fanatic // bakugou x male reader

Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, meets one of his biggest fans and gets roped into walking him home. He finds out just how big a fan he is. NOTES: So this was my first xreader fic. I wrote it basically for one of my partners @spacebunnywrites​ before he was one of my partners. It’s a rough dom Bakugou but there’s some aftercare I promise. Tags: all the holes, rough sex, toys, some embarrassment. x fem here x nonbi coming soon  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

You’re on your way home from a coffee date with friends when you hear the first explosion. It’s coming from somewhere vaguely to your left, eyes immediately shifting in that direction in time to see some civilians fleeing onto your current street from an alley. Your heart stops in your chest, but not from fear.

It can’t be… you think. He’s never in this district. But you need to check, and your legs are moving toward the gap in the buildings before you’re really thinking about it. Soon you’re running through the narrow passage, pulse quickening as the sound of the blasts grow closer. You’re almost there, you just need to see -

You skid to a stop at the alley mouth, eyes widening as a heated explosion rockets past you followed by a maniacally grinning blonde.

“DIE!!”

Oh my god it’s him! Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, in the flesh. Your heart stops again as you watch him sail through the air, so elegant in movement despite his abrasive quirk and even more abrasive personality. Most of your friends fantasized about Midoriya Izuku – Deku – the shy green haired number one hero or Kirishima Eijirou – Red Riot – the sturdy number five hero and Ground Zero’s battle partner. But you? Your heart beats for the wild blonde with the crazy smile who constantly pushes the limits.

The battle was moving down the street. You had to get closer. Where all the sane people were running away from the dueling villains and heroes, you were running closer. This was the first time you had ever seen Ground Zero in person and would likely be the last – he was never in your district and you honestly didn’t know why he was now. That didn’t matter though, he was here, and you’d watch him fight or die trying.

You at least had some sense of self-preservation, ducking behind sturdy objects so that you wouldn’t get hit with some flying shrapnel. You watch in awe as your favorite pro Hero uses his quirk to shoot through the air and slam into one of the villains, giving an appreciative sigh. Fuck, he is so hot.

You’re so focused on watching the explosion hero in action that you don’t another fight right behind you; Red Riot is sparring with a huge, muscular villain. The red-haired hero slams the guy into the wall, but your ears are ringing from being so close to Ground Zero’s detonations that you don’t hear it. Then Ground Zero looks at you. Your eyes lock. Your heart stops. His mouth is moving, making words, and the look on his face goes from sheer confidence to panic.

The world around you starts moving again and you hear ‘Hey, LOOK OUT!’ before something slams into your head and you fall to the ground, the world going dark.

“Is he okay?”

“Fuck if I know, shitty hair, but at least the bleeding stopped.”

You blink as you come to, surroundings hazy and out of focus. Your world is a swirl of greys with splashes of red, black, orange, and yellow. Part of you wonders if it’s sunrise before your vision clears and you’re looking up into the concerned face of Red Riot, and the scowling face of Ground Zero.

Oh fuck.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? A medic team will be here shortly, and we didn’t want to move you.” The sturdy hero has concern pouring out of his tone, his eyes flicking your face for any sign of pain.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ground Zero hisses out, his eyes narrowing further than they were before.

“Bakubro, don’t be like that! He’s a civilian, he probably got trapped! He WAS right in between our fights after all!” Red Riot frowns at the blonde who is still glaring daggers at you. “You gotta work on your image man, your publicist is gonna straight up kill you one day.”

“Fuck off, Kiri.”

Your eyes are focused on Ground Zero, frowning at the anger that is radiating from him. You knew he was like this but it’s different when it’s directed at you instead of at villains or the press.

Both heroes look up as an ambulance squeals to a stop nearby, followed by police to apprehend the villains.

Red Riot immediately pops up and waves an arm. “Hey, he’s over here!”

Ground Zero is still staring at you as Kirishima gets the attention of the paramedics. Red Riot returns quickly, flanked by two more people.

“Hey, these healers can take care of you.”

One of the people holds out her hands, scanning over your horizontal body. “There appears to be no major damage, just a shallow gash to the back of the skull. It’s superficial, Nightingale can heal it without the need for stitches.” She steps back and her partner steps up next, placing a hand to the top of your head. You feel like warm water is rushing over your skull and the dull ache of pain recedes.

Red Riot gives you a relieved smile.

“He’s all set.” The medic, Nightingale, steps back and goes with her partner back to the ambulance. You sit up, automatically steadied by Riot’s large hands.

“Careful, uh...”

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounds a little raspier than usual and you wince.

“(Y/N). It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kirishima, and this is Bakugou. Can we escort you home to make sure you make it okay?”

Ground Zero’s eye daggers are now aimed at Red Riot and you hide a smile behind your hand.

“That would be great, actually.” You hope that you look calm on the outside because your heart is hammering WILDLY in your chest. Ground Zero walking you back to your apartment? Your mind races with all the ways that could end, except now he’s back to glaring daggers at you.

“Red Riot!” All three of you look up as a police officer comes over. “We need a report from you.” His eyes flick to Ground Zero, still crouched near your side, and a flash of fear shoots through them. “Ground Zero we don’t need both of you so you’re free to go.”

Ground Zero rolls his eyes and stands, the movement as graceful as a dancer. “Fine, I have shit to do anyway.”

“Yeah, like walking this one home.” Red Riot stared at his friend, Ground Zero glaring back, before the blonde hero tossed his head back with a sigh.

“Fucking FINE. Whatever. Let’s go.”

He yanks you up, ignoring Red Riot’s suggestions to be gentle. You let out a squeal of protest on your own, attempting to pull your arm back out of his gloved hand. He’s strong though, so much stronger than you ever imagined.

“Wait, Ground Zero, Ground Zero STOP!” You yank hard on your arm, stumbling back when he lets you go and whips around to face you.

“What?!”

You huff, scowling back at him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

His eyes narrow. “Well, you didn’t tell me where you fucking live.”

“I didn’t get a chance to! You just dragged me off like some fucking animal!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ground Zero closes the distance between you two, his crimson eyes glaring into your (e/c) ones.

“I said… you dragged me off like some kind of animal.” He may be the object of all of your carnal lusts, but you were not about to be rag-dolled through the city. At least, not in this manner. You don’t flinch as he glares at you, feeling a thrill of victory as he emits a growl.

“Fucking… fine. Come on then. Which way...?” His voice is low, and you can hear the annoyance laced through it. You grin and head off in a different direction, looking behind you at the angry blonde planted on the sidewalk.

“Well come on, Red Riot will be pissed if you leave me alone.” You smirk as his scowl deepens. Since he more or less promised your safety to his partner, that left you free to push his buttons. You weren’t very happy about being yanked like that, but fuck you loved the aggression that the blonde exuded. Every scowl and squint were sending chills down your spine and you wanted to see if you could get him yelling at you before you got back to your apartment. Fuck, that would give you something to get off to for months.

“Fine.” You hear the stomping of boots following you and you can’t help the smirk pulling at your lips. This was fun. Your heart was still pounding in your chest being so close to him, talking to him, teasing him, but you liked to think that you were holding your own.

You annoyed him with chatter and banter for the whole ten-minute walk to your small apartment, easily swapping between teasing him (there’s a hole in your uniform Ground Zero, are you getting slow?) and yammering about anything and everything happening around you. Ground Zero might think it was nerves, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Your nerves were firing off like sparklers, bright and heated, but it was mostly the thrill of watching the storm cloud that darkened your favorite hero’s face as you walk.

You’re twirling as you go down the sidewalk, generally making a nuisance of yourself just to annoy him further, when suddenly you’re overcome with a dizzy spell. You stop twirling and put a hand to your head, the world spinning around you as you start to fall. You hear loud boot stomps and then strong arms are wrapping around you, catching you before you hit the ground.

“Fuck, do you have no sense of self-preservation? Why would you do shit like that after you just had a head injury?” Ground Zero has you fixed with that familiar angry scowl and you smiled up at him. You feel almost drunk as you reach out and ‘boop’ the hero’s nose.

He snarls. “Which fucking apartment building is yours, you shitty fuck?” Your arm flops toward your building and he grumbles as he takes off to it, carrying you bridal-style in his arms.

Your head is lolling back and he’s cursing under his breath. “Fuck. Which apartment? Where are your keys?” Your hand slips into your pocket and lazily fishes out your keys, promptly dropping them on the ground. Ground Zero curses again and crouches easily to pick them up. Your fuzzy brain has it together enough to be impressed that he’s able to squat and snatch your keys from the pavement like you weigh nothing. So strong. Swoon.

Ground Zero carries you effortlessly up the stairs to the third floor. Luckily your apartment number is on a tag on your key, so it takes him no time to find it. You aren’t really paying attention as he unlocks your door and swings it open, stepping into your home. You feel him pause, his eyes sweeping the area. You live alone and your home is small, but it’s cozy and you love it.

He spots a mass of pillows by the window in the main room and decides that is the best place to lay you. You squirm on the pile of squishy pillows and trying to make yourself comfortable; all the while Ground Zero watches you with a scowl. He knows for a damn fact that if he leaves you before you’re coherent that Kirishima will have his hide, so he’s trapped here until you wake up. Great.

He might as well try to find your bathroom and some medication, you’re bound to have a headache when you wake up fully. There’s only one door off the space you’re both currently in, so without hesitation he crosses to it and moves to open it. You open one eye in time to see Ground Zero’s hand wrap around the knob to your bedroom and you squeak out a weak protest, but the door opens. He stands in the doorway, frozen.

“...What the fuck is this.”

Shit. Now you were in for it. You try to pull yourself up, fighting the dizziness in an attempt to defuse the situation. You knew exactly what he was looking at. Your bedroom was absolutely covered in Ground Zero merch, both official and unofficial. You rise and shakily make your way to him. “Ground Zero, ah, don’t…”

He whirls on you, eyes narrowed. “You weren’t trapped between our fights. You came specifically to watch me.” It’s not a question and your cheeks color as you nod.

He inhales and turns from you, stepping into your bedroom and looking around at the amount of stuff. Posters, figurines, plush pillows that look like his grenade gauntlets. His eyes sweep your bed and pause at the elongated shape hidden under the blankets. Without asking for permission he rips back the black and orange comforter and you gasp as he reveals a body pillow of himself.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?” Luckily it’s on the tame side and not the lewd side.

Then Ground Zero flips the pillow over. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. Your face floods with heat and you turn you turn away from him; missing the cocky smirk that graces his lips for a split second.

“If you have this so brazenly in your bed, what the fuck else are you hiding in here?”

You eke out another protest as he prowls around to the other side of your bed, zeroing in on a pair of doors. He opens the first, but it’s your small bathroom. The blonde hero shoots you a look and closes it, then grins as he opens the other one.

“People always hide weird shit in their closets…” He rips the door open and instead of a quick look like he did in the bathroom, he begins pulling your hanging clothes to the side, checking the floor, sweeping his hands on the shelf. He finds the thing you’re dreading quickly – a small box shoved in the corner of your highest shelf.  “Hmm. Looks suspicious.”

He pops it open with a smirk that quickly vanishes, and you want to sink into the floor and die. You know exactly what’s in the box, and there’s a reason it’s hidden where it is.

Ground Zero holds up the bondage harness as you watch, mortified, his eyes sweeping the black and orange straps. "Is this... is this official merch? I'm going to kill my entire marketing team."

"No. I, um..." You swallow, averting your eyes as your cheeks flush. "I made it."

Ground Zero stares at you for a second, then a grin slowly curls up the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? You made it?"

You nod. "There's, um. There’re matching arm binders that look like your gauntlets. And leg binders that look like your boots." You risk raising your eyes to look at him and you feel the breath knocked out of you at the hungry, feral look in his eyes.

"Put it on then.” His grin widens as he throws the harness at you.

You catch it, acting more out of reflex than anything. “What?!”

“If you're so desperate for my cock. Fucking earn it."

He casually fishes out the arm and leg restraints, looking them over the way he looked at the harness. “You fucking heard me. If you want it, you have to work for it.” Crimson eyes flick to you. “Especially after the way you fucking teased me the whole walk here.”

Teased him? I mean yeah, you were a little sassy, but… your eyes widen in understanding. He likes the sass. That made you look at all his glares and glances in a new light, and… Your eyes flick to the heat in them now. Fuck were you in for it, and fuck were you all about it.

“I’m not going to say it again. Put. It. On.”

His voice is like steel and you drop the harness on your bed, hands going to your shirt. Fuck, was this really happening? Were you really going to do this? You hesitate as you toy with the hem of your shirt and Ground Zero uncrosses his arms, cupping his palms, and lets off a few warning sparks. Your heart leaps into your throat and you yank the shirt over your head, throwing it nearly across your room before yanking off your pants and kicking them after the shirt.

You look at Ground Zero as you stand in your underwear, and he motions to the small garments. Your face heats up as you slowly slide those off too. At his raised brow you pick up the harness, carefully stepping into it.

“I uh, I can’t put this on by myself. It’s why I’ve never worn it before.” Your face flushes, the harness straps hanging from your frame. Ground Zero shifts his weight, moving like a cat stalking prey. He slowly walks around you, reaching out for the straps, and pulling them tightly into place.

“So, I’m the only one to see you like this, hah?” His voice is low and rumbling, hot like raked coals.

You shudder and nod.

He pulls the strap he’s tying tighter and leans into your ear. “Good. It had better fucking stay that way.” The words spike directly to your core and you groan, immediately moving to slap a hand over your mouth. He just chuckles darkly and finishes tightening the straps, and you look down on yourself. The harness is very nice, if you do say so yourself. You can’t help but feel a little proud of your handiwork.

Then you notice Ground Zero holding the arm and leg binders and grinning.

You immediately start to shake your head, but he just grins wider. “Ah ah, you made them, you must be dying to try them out.”

You’re only semi-surprised at the skill and nimbleness that he displays locking you into the binders, and you wonder if this is something he does regularly. Your arms are twisted behind your back and locked into place, and Ground Zero guides you down to the floor so he can use the leg binders to keep you in a kneeling position. It’s a good thing he has those huge knee pads on his hero outfit – they provide an excellent cushion from your hardwood floor. You’re glad you included them.

“There. And now that you’re all nice and tied up…” He walks to the front of you as he removes his gloves and reaches down, a calloused thumb teasing at your lower lip. You immediately open your mouth and he gives an approving rumble deep in his throat, using the pad of his thumb to stroke your eager tongue.

You roll your eyes back in your head at the flavor – he tastes like rich caramel. The scent rises off him now that his hands are so close to your face. You’re vaguely aware that it has something to do with his quirk, and that the nitroglycerin he sweats can be toxic, but you’re way too into him being in your mouth to care. He grasps your chin with his fingertips, holding your jaw in place from the inside. You give a small whine, closing your lips to suck on his thumb.

“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” He pulls the thumb out and wipes your saliva on your cheek. “You know, that body pillow you got there? It’s fucking wrong.” He smirks a little, hooking the thumb that was in your mouth through a belt loop. “I bet you want to see the real thing, don’t you? You’re dying for it. I can see it in your eyes.” You whimper and nod, your eyes immediately going to the crotch of his pants. “Well too bad. I’m not done looking through your shit.”

You let out a much louder whine as he turns away from you.

“Let’s see now. I’ve already checked the closet, how about… in here?” He moves to your nightstand and yanks open a drawer, but all that’s in it are a few odds and ends. He gives you a scowl and slams it closed before pulling open the second one. That one yields much more fruitful results, and you feel like your face can’t get any hotter as Ground Zero lifts out a ball gag colored like a grenade, and a blindfold in the shape of his mask. He gives you a very direct look before carefully laying the items on your bed, then dives back in. Next, he comes out with a thin paddle made of wood with a slab of rubber on it, the rubber looking like a boot imprint.

“What the fuck is this?” He squints at the tread, then lifts his own boot and looks at it. “Is this my fucking boot print? How the fuck did you even get this?”

“Someone… after a fight in your district, someone made a casting of your boot print in the dirt. I uh, I bought it and cast the rubber to make a spanking paddle… with your boot tread on it.” You swallow a little. “I’m glad to know it’s authentic.” You give a tiny, nervous chuckle.

He stares at you for a second and then drops the paddle on the bed.

“You filthy fucking bitch. You just want me to walk all over you.” There’s definitely a vein of arousal in his voice, and when he turns you can see that the crotch of his pants is tighter than it was when he was standing in front of you. He shifts through the rest of the drawer, casually putting a bottle of lube on top of the night stand.

Without a word he gets on his knees and looks under your bed, pulling out another box. You’re so far beyond embarrassed at this point. The delicate lace of arousal in his words, the strain against his pants, you’re going to get fucked stupid by the hero you idolize. You wish desperately that your leg binders didn’t keep your thighs spread, robbing you of any friction you might have been able to produce for yourself.

Your breath intakes sharply as Ground Zero returns up from the floor, holding a sizeable black and orange dildo. “Did you fuckin’ make this too?” He’s catching on that all your sex toys are in his trademark black and orange.

You shake your head. “Commission,” you squeak out.

“Ah, you keep my dildo right under your bed, hah? Has to be in easy reach so you can stuff yourself as soon as you need to feel my cock in you?”

Your breath intakes harshly at the words. “Yes.”

He stares at you with hard eyes for a second. “…Fuck.”

He stands, eyes drilling into you as he pulls off his boots. Next go his gauntlets, clattering to the floor, followed by his top, and despite the fact that you’ve seen his naked chest countless times in either battle damaged costumes or professional photo shoots, you’re not prepared for the real thing.

You make a hiccup-y gasp, and his grin goes feral.

“Be a good boy and don’t move.” He closes the distance between you and easily scoops you into his arms, placing you on the bed with your back facing him. He glances at the hardwood floor where you were originally sitting. “Tch. Haven’t even fucking touched you and you’re already making a fucking mess.” He gestures at the floor where a small pool of liquid betrays how turned on you already are. You feel a slight sliver of shame but it’s heavily outweighed by the sheer force of your arousal.

You watch as Ground Zero, now stripped of everything but pants and socks, moves behind you again. Hands reach out and caress your sides, softer than you thought the blonde was capable of. You moan, trying to arch your back in the tight bindings. You hear a chuckle behind you and then clothed hips are grinding into your ass, the feather soft finger tips now grabbing your waist hard enough to leave bruises. You cry out, pushing your ass back into the hips, and are rewarded with a soft groan as the cleft of your ass encompasses the hard dick in Ground Zero’s pants. Your eyes widen – he wasn’t kidding, your body pillow did him no justice.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t say you could have that yet.” He smacks the round globe of your ass with his hand, then releases you.

You pant in need, trying to push your hips back again, desperately trying to feel his length against your body again. He makes his ‘tch’ noise and you bite your lip. You can feel him move behind you, then his arm comes in to view and he’s grabbing the boot paddle. Your breath hitches in your throat as the wooden handle slowly drags backwards across your messy bed. He’s going this slowly on purpose, you know it. He wants you to anticipate what’s coming.

You freeze as you feel the ridged rubber slide sensually across your ass.

“You ever use this before?” Ground Zero is practically purring behind you.

“N-no.” Your breath leaves you in another shaky hiccup.

“Why the fuck not?” The boot tread continues to rub across your flesh as Ground Zero’s voice gets a little angry.

“No one was good enough b-but you.”

The tread stops and you hear a breathy ‘fuck’ behind you before the blonde hero is pulling his arm back and snapping it forward again. The rubber tread of the boot slams into your cheek and you cry out. It didn’t hurt as badly as you expected – maybe it was the thickness of the boot. Either way, it was the perfect opening.

“T-that all you got, Ground Zero?” Your breath is coming out harsh, but you make damn sure that he can hear the antagonistic tone in your voice.

You hear a growl behind you and the boot flies down again, this time you can feel the bite of the tread marks in your ass. You hope it is going to leave an imprint.

“Hah, I t-thought you were strong, Ground Zero.”

You tense as you hear an aggressive snarl and feel a quick movement behind you, followed by the sound of glass shattering. You’re able to glance to your left and see the broken remains of your table lamp on the floor next to the paddle.

You’re a little annoyed, until you hear his quirk spark to life behind you, and your heart stops again.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat, hah? Just gotta be fucking mouthy? Well if you like my quirk so much, let’s see how you can handle it.”

The sparking sound intensifies, and you’re barely able to hold your breath before Ground Zero’s hand slaps against your cheek. Oh, oh FUCK yes. This is what you want. The sting is enough to bring tears to your eyes and it radiates across your flesh like fire. You can’t hold back your moan, and you lean forward more to present your ass better. He gives you a matching slap on the other side.

“Not so cocky now, are you?” Twin slaps to both sides again. He keeps going, hands still ignited, more and more until you’re sobbing, and he can see the outline of his handprint reddening your ass. “Fucking perfect.” He grins and places one more playful slap, your hips bucking in response.

Ground Zero moves to the front, grabbing your jaw in his hands roughly. “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation, and he grabs the ball gag with his free hand. His crimson eyes investigate your mouth for a few beats, and you take the chance to admire how handsome his face is. He is still wearing his mask, and there’s soft grey streaks from his battle on his neck and cheek. Then he leans forward a little and you wonder for a second if he is going to kiss you, but before you can close your mouth, he spits into it and stuffs the ball gag in.

“Good boy,” he purrs, tying the gag around your head. He smirks as he moves behind you again. You’re shivering in anticipation of what he’s going to do next.

The ball gag prevents your loud moan as your ass cheeks are separated and his tongue licks a long strip from your ballsack to your asshole. He doesn’t speak, he just starts to circle his tongue around the rim of your ass, inching the fingers of his right hand closer while keeping your cheeks spread. You fall forward as he hikes your hips up, just able to turn your head to prevent your face from pressing directly into the mattress. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head as he fucks his tongue in and out of your hole, growling softly at the whimpers you’re making that are muffled by the gag stuffing your mouth. He stops suddenly, mouth and hands disappearing from your skin, and you let out a high-pitched whine at the loss of contact.

Ground Zero laughs and reaches over to the bottle of lube he’d previously placed on your night stand. He positions himself behind you once more, popping open the cap of lube and pulling one of your cheeks to the side. He squirts the lube directly onto your hole, grinning as you shudder at how cold it is. The hand not holding your cheek circles your hole, teasing, not dipping in. It’s not until you push your hips back that he slips his finger inside, eliciting a groan from both of you.

He slowly works you open, watches you swallow his digit eagerly, his erection straining against the pants of his hero costume. You rock your hips back into him, your eagerness clear on your face as you pant around the ball gag. You choke out another muffled moan as he adds a second finger, hips rocking back harder. You need more, you need him to fill you. He lets a third finger slip it, scissoring all three to stretch the tight ring of muscle.

“Mm, yeah. Gotta stretch you open so you can take my cock, right?” You give a high-pitched groan, unable to control yourself as the thought of taking his cock sends you over the edge. You ride through your orgasm on his fingers, eyes squeezed closed, and he stops moving them. “Did you already cum just from the thought of it? Damn, you really are desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” You can hear the ego in his voice, and he removes his fingers. This is it. You’re gonna get to cum on Ground Zero’s dick.

You feel the blunt head prodding at your entrance, but it feels strangely cold. You open your eyes and Ground Zero’s wearing a cocky grin, pants still zipped up, with the head of your dildo breaching you. You pout, or at least you pout as best as you can with your gag in your mouth, and the hero laughs. His grin is almost maniacal as he twists his wrist, watching your ass swallow the black and orange toy. Your pout doesn’t last long because the feeling of being stretched has you groaning again, pushing back against it, trying to take it further. He stops once the toy is bottomed out inside you.

You squirm against it, groaning as it rubs against your walls, watching the explosion hero as he slowly walks back around to the other side of your bed. He reaches down and unbuckles the gag, pulling it from your head. He pulls you up, positioning you so that you’re sitting on the dildo but pushes on your shoulders so that your head bows back down. Not quite all the way to the bed, but level with his dick.

“Stay,” he murmurs, and then reaches for the buckle of his pants. You hover there, eyes locked on the movements of his hands, your mouth already open and salivating. He moves slow, watching your face with an intense hunger. He pulls the pants off, sliding them down his muscular thighs, and kicking them off. His boxer briefs are straining to hold his erection and there is a damp spot where the head is, betraying how much your reactions are affecting him.

He palms his own cock through his underwear, smirking down at you. “Do you think you’ve earned this?” His voice is low, dark. Your nose is filled with the scent of caramel again and you nod. “Are you sure? I’m not.” His fingers slowly wrap around his shaft, pressing the outline out harder through his underwear. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Ground Zero, I need it, I need you, please just fuck me!” you immediately plead. Your body is squirming, and you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue flat and looking up at him. He bites his lip and pulls his underwear down, his cock bobbing just out of reach of your mouth.

“Keep your mouth open.” His voice is a low rumble and he holds his dick by the base, rubbing the head across your tongue and lower lip, smearing his precum on your skin. He doesn’t quite taste like caramel here, not like his hands and not like he smells, but he does taste sweet. You moan softly, enjoying the flavor, fighting all your instincts to not close your mouth and take him in as far as he can go. “Fuck, good boy. Good boy.” He presses his cock in, slowly, until it reaches the back of your throat. “Close your mouth.”

You moan and do as your told, immediately curling your tongue around the shaft and sucking deep. He chokes out a moan and the sound sends a spike of arousal to your core, making you clench around the toy. He gently pumps his hips, sliding in and out for a few strokes. One hand caresses the top of your head and your heart flips at the tender treatment, but then he grins and tangles his hand roughly into your hair, snapping his hips harder. He starts to fuck your face in earnest, using his hand in your hair as an anchor to keep you in place. You start to take quick breaths in between his thrusts, trying to relax your throat so he can fuck into it. You’re rewarded by a loud moan the first time he does, his hips stuttering as he rocks back and forth in your throat. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, rubs your lips with it, and then shoves it right back in.

“Fuck yeah.” His motions are fluid and graceful, he fucks like he battles. He’s gives you no time to swallow as he snaps his hips in and out, your saliva pooling and running down your chin every time he pulls them back. He finally pulls out one last time, holding himself at the base and looking down at your messy face.

Without looking, Ground Zero reaches into the drawer and retrieves a line of small packets. He rips one off the line and looks at it, then rolls his eyes back. “Okay, I know you didn’t make these.” You give him a shaky smile, still covered in your own drool, as he stares at the condom packet’s slogan. ‘BAKU BRAND: Reliable enough for your biggest explosions!’

He shrugs and rips open the condom, moving around to the back again. He rubs a hand over the print he left on your ass before slowly pulling out your dildo and lining himself up to take its place. He lets his hands crackle with his quirk as he slams his hips in, and suddenly you’re stuffed full with Ground Zero’s cock, and it’s like a dream come true. The hero immediately starts a brutal pace, shoving your face forward into the mattress with every thrust. You cry out with each pump, and it only takes a handful before you’re clamping down around his cock again, shooting cum into your blankets for the second time.

“Nngh, FUCK! You’re so tight. That’s right, cum on my cock.” His voice sounds harsh, like he’s losing control as he keeps pounding into you. His fingertips are digging into your hips again, definitely bruising, as he yanks you back into him. He slams into you one last time with a hoarse shout and you know he’s cumming. His hand reaches around to squeeze your neglected cock and that small pressure and the thought that Ground Zero was cumming in you was enough to get you off one last time, your walls clamping a little weaker around him than the first two times. He holds there for a moment, holding you up as you sag on the bed. He slips out and you hear the snap of rubber as he removes the condom.

“Damn,” he sighs, smacking your ass a little more playfully once more, “That was good. You freaky little shit.”

His footsteps leave the room.

He’s back a moment later, undoing the bindings of the restraints. Your body sinks into your bed in exhaustion and you follow him with your eyes as he moves into your bathroom. You hear your bath water running and blink as Ground Zero steps back into your bedroom, then back out of it into the main area. He’s walking around like he owns the place, and if you could move your body at all you’d say something about it.

He comes back again and lifts you into his arms, carrying you the same way he did on the way in to your apartment.

“Here.” He holds a glass of water to your lips and tilts it. You look at him, confused, as you sip from the glass. “Good. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He carries you into your bathroom, holding you until the water fills halfway. You think he brushes his lips across your temple as he waits but you feel so out of it that you aren’t entirely sure. Once the level is acceptable he is carefully lowering you into the half-filled bath. You hiss at the hot water and he immediately adjusts the temperature. He leaves the glass on the floor. “Keep drinking that. Don’t fucking drown.”

He leaves the room again.

If you weren’t so utterly, deliciously sore you would wonder if you were dreaming. You’re only mildly aware that he comes back at one point to turn the water off before disappearing again like some kind of shitty blonde ghost.

The warmth is seeping into your bones and you’re feeling drowsy. You’re not sure how long you spend drifting in and out, but you aren’t aware when Ground Zero comes back in.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, and you open your eyes, blinking at him with a small smile. “Lean forward so I can wash your hair.” You lean forward as best as you can, assisted by the hero’s hands more than you actually do yourself. You’re able to hold yourself up by bracing your arms on the sides of the tub, and you hear the pop of a bottle as Ground Zero opens your shampoo. Then his hands card through your hair. You can’t help but let a small moan slip from the relaxing sensation. He’s being so much gentler than you thought he was capable of, especially after how rough he’d just been.

He rinses your hair then carefully washes you with your body soap.

Once he’s convinced you’re clean enough he pulls the drain on the tub, helping you to stand and wrapping you in a towel. You’re not so pathetic anymore and you’re able to walk, albeit shakily, back into your room without his assistance.

“Get some pajamas. Don’t put them on yet.” Gentle or not his tone still leaves no room for disobedience, and you pull out a pair of boy shorts (Ground Zero ones, obviously) and a black tank top to leave on your bed. Ground Zero himself comes back out from your bathroom with the glass you didn’t finish and some aspirin. “Take this and finish the fucking water like I already said to.”

You take the pills and sip on the water, watching him sleepily. He’s rifling through his pants pockets, still in his underwear, and pulls out a small green tube. “Alright, lay on your stomach.” He rolls his eyes at the look you give him. “No, not for sex, this is fucking aloe vera. If I don’t put it on your ass it’ll burn for a week.” He does give you a smirk at that, and you place the water on your nightstand so you can crawl onto your bed and lay on your stomach. His rough hands soothingly rub the aloe into your abused skin, and you can’t help drifting off to sleep again. There’s no sass left, only satisfaction. This time though, you don’t wake up when he’s done. You vaguely feel yourself being shifted around, carefully dressed, and tucked into bed. You feel the push of something warm, soft, and sweet onto your mouth and you wonder if you’re dreaming about him kissing you.

When you do wake up it’s almost the afternoon the following day. You’re dressed in the pajamas you picked out and tucked tightly into your bed. You sit up, still feeling sore, and you can’t help but wonder if you’re imagining the whole of last night. It wouldn’t be the first time you had a dream like that, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Pity you didn’t wake up next to him, though. You ease out of bed and stretch, popping your back a little, before shuffling into the kitchen. On your counter top there’s an envelope. You tilt your head and slowly grab it, pulling it open. Inside is paper yen and a note. You pull the note out and open it.

“There’s food in the fridge. Make sure you fucking eat it. Cash is for the lamp I broke.”

You smile a little and skim further down the page for more writing. Your eyes widen at the phone number, but you about drop the paper at what’s scribbled underneath it. “For when you want to be a brat again. Maybe if you’re good, next time will be a creampie.

- GZ”

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: *sigh* for the third time the damned app ate up the tags. This one took me too long and I'm excited for write about my man suna again. This is also pretty different from what I'm used to write, but why not? Please enjoy your reading.

Warnings: cursing, substance usage/mentions, break-ups and me trynna be funny.

I – Cancel me.

Previous || Next

He looked at them with expectation as the beats smoothly faded, indicating the song's ending. 

If he were to be honest, the pair before him was a pain in the ass, but their opinion was that important because, when it came to music, they were the best at it. He felt no shame nor jealousy in admitting it.

"Dunno, the hook sounds like a Vice headline ta me." The bleach-haired male said, hearring the song's outro blaring through the studio speakers.

"Isn't it a Kid Milli reference, tho?" The other asked while munching a chip. He frowned at them, not understanding their point.

"Whatever. You two are no help anyways." Hearring their bullshit, the brunette already regretted this collab. He paused the queued song, turning to the other two with a blank stare.

The twins before him snickered, knowing they successfully hit a nerve. They couldn't help it, provoking Suna was one of their favorite hobbies.

"The song is good, but I gotta tell ya this butt hurt phase of yers is pretty lame." The faux-blond opened his mouth again, spinning around the studio with the desk chair. 

"Fuck you, Atsumu" He snapped, almost giving in to the desire of decking them both on the face.

"Tsumu's right, ya Lil Peep wannabe. Can't believe this break up ended up that bad." Osamu said in mockery, throwing the empty Lay's wrapper at him. He scoffed, disposing the wrapper on the bin before getting back at the screen to look at the FL studio interface.

"It's not that I have a broken heart. I just wanna know what's wrong with my life" He shrugged, blindly tacting over the desk in search of his Juul.

"Yeah Samu, he's just grieving over those fancy ass Dior Jordans. Sunarin is incapable of mundane things like a broken heart." His blond friend was partially right.

Suna Rintaro was many things: alt model, music producer, cloud artist and a decent volleyball player that almost went pro. But if there was something he could never be, it was a lucky man on love matters.

With his fair share of failed relationships, the artist could never pinpoint when things went wrong. It would always be the same: he would meet a girl, they would have a good time and then, the chick would turn out demanding as fuck.

In the end, every single one of them would slap him across the face and leave his life banging the front door shut like crazy — last week, it was Mika who broke things off, but not before setting his limited edition pair of jordans on fire. He would never get over those sneakers.

"Good for him, those kicks were kinda ugly." Osamu said in a bored manner. Suna felt his soul leaving his body.

"The hell, Osamu?" He was ready to fight, deeply offended by the attack at his taste in fashion.

"Yo, you two." Atsumu butted in, checking something on his phone "Y'all are drifting away from our problem."

"That is?" The other brother asked.

"Cheer up Sunarin before he fucks up with the Album." If Suna had the energy, he would kick both Miyas out of his studio "And I gotta the perfect thing. Let's hang out at Akagi's tonight, he just invited us." The already distressed musician felt the soul leaving his body for the second time that afternoon. He was sure both twins wished his death.

"Not a fucking chance. Last time I went there I almost died because of that weird stuff we smoked." 

"Aw, Sunarin, Kita'll be there too." The faux-blonde tried to persuade. The mention of their older, responsible and straight edge friend made Suna look at them with interest. But he needed more, though. Based on the last experience, he didn't have the will to risk his life going to Akagi's house once again. A shiver descended his spine as the male recalled how much he threw up that night.

"Suna, man, I gotta agree with Tsumu. Yer feelings are showing in your music." Osamu said as if he was some kind of genius.

"Isn't art about it, tho?" He deadpanned "Expressing feelings and shit?" He asked, staring them dead in the eye. The males before him shivered because of its intensity. Suna snickered.

"Man says art, but most of his songs are about the Nikes on his feet and the Tesla in his garage." Atsumu mocked "What the fuck?" The blonde barely dodged the moleskine thrown at him.

"Don't chew on me when you do the same, asshat. This is called character development." As unnerving the twins were, he felt a whole lot better in their company "Just lemme produce my sad stuff in peace."

"Cut us some slack, ya dumbfuck. We're just worried about ya." Osamu protested " 'Sides, no wonder no girl sticks by yer side. You know what the chicks find sexy? Seizing the means of production, not yer dumb car."

"You two are so la—" The musician was interrupted mid sentence, startled by the blond figure clutching his phone with enthusiasm.

"Oi Samu," Atsumu's loud voice startled the other two, as he excitedly fisted the air.

"What the fuck?" Suna asked, dropping the Juul on the floor.

"She'll be there tonight." The blond said, looking at his brother with a new wave of joy.

"The fuck? She who?" The brunette frowned.

"Ya gotta go and find out, man." The gray haired twin said with a knowing smile, matching his brother's excitement.

The night out felt somewhat draining. The booze, the music and the company were great, but his lack of energy was a mood killer.

Cheer me up my ass, Suna cursed internally as he observed everyone getting wasted all over the place. He grimaced at the sight, realizing the meeting with the twins was enough social interaction for the day.

He didn't know what's gotten into him. The male knew it wasn't necessarily caused by the break up, but he couldn't help the feeling down.

Right now, life just felt lowkey suffocating. 

Being a public figure meant being under the spotlights the most of time.

People talked.

People assumed.

Media was all over him, ready to catch a scandall.

And of fucking course his name was on gossip headlines. It even occupied a spot on twitter trending topics for a day or so.

"Fuck me." He said before the lukewarm beer went down his throat.

"Sunarin!" He heard Atsumu shouting from his right "I want you to meet someone!" And only now he noticed the blond had his left arm over a girl's shoulders.

Oh, that's the one they were talking about, maybe? the brunette realized. What's the hype, tho? He asked himself, eyeing your figure.

"[Name], this is Suna. Sunarin, this is [Name], best girl ever and the mastermind behind the visuals of mine and Samu's last album" The bleach-haired male said with a proud smirk, ruffling your hair. You were obviously shy.

How cute, the brunette thought.

"Dumbass, don't embarrass me in front of others!" You nudged the Miya with your elbow "Nice to meet you, I saw your name on TMZ last week—" You said beaming and he grunted.

I take it back. Not cute at all, the man internally screamed, not ready to talk about the recent events. He didn't even want to listen to the rest of your speech, your cheery voice went through his ears in a white noise.

"And this makes me really excited for your album. The interview about the collab with dumb and dumber was lit." You continued, the words were genuine and you seemed really interested "And I also relate on a spiritual level because I know working with them is hell."

Oh, she's talking about the album. He realized in relief.

"Yo, I heard good things about you too. The design of their album was hella sick, even though they two suck ass." Suna snickered when he heard Atsumu protesting. You only left out a giggle, joining him on the teasing.

The blond kept ranting about how bad of friends the two of you were.

"I didn't introduce y'all ta gang up on me. Bye, I'm finding another company. Ya two suck." The blonde Miya said, leaving only you and Suna in the sofa area.

"Uh, so…" He drifted off, trying to start some small talk

"Yeah..." You both giggled at the awkwardness "Not enjoying the night?"

"Too much happening right now. Lots of people talking shit 'bout me." He sipped the beer, grimacing at the stale taste of the drink "Hope they cancel me already. So all this shit dies down." Suna looked away, suddenly shy for opening up to a stranger.

"You're a famous guy and the break-up wasn't that scandalous. It'll be over eventually, just beware the sneaker cult." Your amusement was comfort enough. You didn't make intrusive questions about the events and merely joked it off. He felt so worn out by the situation but, at least, your presence wasn't overbearring.

"How is it everyone knows about the jordans?" You shrugged it off, laughing at the distressed face he mocked. Sighing in relief, Suna couldn't deny how refreshing your presence was. Not to be a jerk, but usually, the girls either were all over him or judged every single move he made. You were just that easygoing.

"Well, I don't think you came here to sulk on the sofa all night long. Why don't we join them by the pool and down some shots?" You hopped off of your seat, pointing to the glass doors. All the boys were waving at you two and suddenly, Suna felt a wave of joy run down his body.

Atsumu was right. Best girl ever.

At some point of the night, everything became about you.

All he could hear was the sound of your voice and all the time, his eyes were drawn to your figure. He couldn't figure out a reason for it, but the rapper wasn't complaining either.

A sharp pang at the side of Suna's head broke the trance he was in. Osamu had a shit eating grin on his face, eyeing the ravenette with amusement.

"We told ya so." The younger twin mused whilst he handed a long neck of vodka to the other.

"Stop. This is dumb."

"Yer dumb. But you ain't that dumb ta dare ta mess with her." The gray-haired Miya squinted at him, menacingly pointing the bottle in his hand at the brunette. The latter shrugged it off, opening his drink.

"Nah, I'm good." And he meant it.

But how could he explain the situation he was in?

Lips and hands wandered over the expanse of his skin. Everything was too hot and too good at the same time. Overwhelming, even.

He wanted more, more and more. There wasn't enough of you.

And if it wasn't unfair enough, his body felt lethargic. He was desperate, but couldn't keep up with the rhythm you imposed. Be it the alcohol or the stress, his body gave up and blacked out, even before you could undress each other.

In the morning after, a pounding headache woke him up. Suna didn't dare to open his eyes, but the morning breath fanning over his face was unbearable.

"I can't believe a cutie like you have a stinky breath like this." The complaint came out in a raspy voice, accompanied by an annoyed grunt.

Someone snickered on the other side of the room.

"Man, I didn't know you had the hots fer Samu." Atsumu was somewhere across the room, laughing at him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Hearing the other, Suna's body jolted, dizziness made his head spin in the process. He felt sick in the stomach and the morning light made his eyes sting. "When did I get back here?" The male looked around, realizing he was sprawled over Akagi's floor, right beside Osamu, who didn't even squirm at the loud voices in the room.

"What do ya mean? We never left" Atsumu frowned, uncaping a water bottle he was holding "Ya puked on Kita and passed out. The boys were too wasted ta drag yer sorry ass back home so we all crashed here." The blonde was dumbfounded, trying to figure out how wasted Suna got last night.

Suna wanted to know too. After all, there was no way the events envolving you were a product of his drunk mind.

facts:

• Suna's artist name is yosemite.

• He has a Tesla Model S because of Frank Ocean.

• He takes his Nikes very seriously.

• No, not all of his songs are about the car and the kicks.

• He and the Miya twins got a sports scholarship because of volleyball, but they dropped out of school to make music.

• The three of them created Inarizaki, the label they're making music under. Kita and Aran manage it.

• Both Miya twins are beatmakers and music producers. They recently debuted as artists and now are making a collab EP with Suna, thus Atsumu's concern about the album.

[sassaetcie]

The Ashes of the Oven : Silver x Idia as a play with Lilia as the main actor - 2

heyo it’s the second part, enjoy

                                                         Scene IV

                               One of Diasomnia main building's balconies

LILIA, aside: Ah everyone, everyone in this small area has fallen asleep again! They say ignorance is bliss, but I guess, so is sleep.  Sweet, sweet children, rest well, dream well, for your dreams may be a fragment of this poor reality, or reality may be a fragment of dreams. What an old man I am, again and forever! Is this wind cold? Warm? Lukewarm? Is my skin dreading this poor, stuck, motionless tredging wind? Or is my blood fearing for such an eternal, limited, foe? Ah! Who comes! Who may you be, student of my dorm... my fellow!

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Oh, sir Lilia. I apologize, I heard something and thought it was... some intruder creeping toward our balconies.

LILIA: Do not worry, this is small potatoes. You can go back, there is nothing but myself here. What is your name, if I cannot recall it at all? I am an old, old, chap, after all.

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Oh, nothing of great matter, I'll be going back to the dorm.

LILIA: Please, do, young one. But indeed, your name may not be that much of a matter. I see you are diligent, and know immediatly of your susbtance. Would it have been easier with your "name", or any word at all? I wonder, I do not think so. For these words are after all, Words. And words are words upon everything, and yet everything might as well be a lie.

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Do you mean my name is truly worthless, in the end, sir?

LILIA: All of our names are useless in the end, young one! Would you be called "Rose" and yet be fast, talking a lot, crushing flowers, including roses? Why would you wear such a name? Isn't that a blatant lie? Look at me, Lilia Vanrouge! Is there something red in me, on this fae body? Even the compass is not a compass! It cannot lead us anywhere, it barely leads us nowhere! But pray, go and recover through slumber again, my lad. You will be exhausted tomorrow, won't you? Your poor little thing.

DIASOMNIA STUDENT, A, B, C OR D, MAYBE X: Y-yes, I'll take my leave... Good night, sir Lilia.

LILIA: Good night, child of the world.

                                                          Scene V:

                                         Night Raven College coliseum

ASHTON VARGAS: Morning, youngsters! Won't spend a lot of time asking you how went your weekend cause it would be a waste of time on your potential, and a waste of time on the developpement of your MUSCLES! We're still in a exam period, so you better prepare! No, Idia, Azul, no running away, we're just doing boring exams... Well, the magical ones! And even if we didn't, you shouldn't waste your youth like this! Muscles and exercices are important for your health and body, as well as a healthy diet and...

IDIA: Yeah, yeaaah, I know... Can we just get to the exams already...

AZUL: Indeed, we may be losing time on our youth like you said so well, Mr Vargas. Wouldn't that be sad if we were to spend more time than expected on this exam?

ASHTON: Oh. Yeah, that's true! Well, I'll let you chose your teams as long as you don't just gang up as dorms or age... I may be tough to harden you up, but I won't stand for these kind of things! If you're just beaten up, you won't get anything from it!

SEBEK: SIR, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY GANGING UP AS DORMS???

ASHTON: Well, if you chose to team up with Silver, you won't be teaming up with Lilia and Malleus, you see?

SEBEK: But! BUT!

SILVER: Sebek, just calm down... you are going to bring too much attention upon Diasomnia at this point... And if you're... you are worried about Malleus... you can still team up with him to protect him, I'll be with someone else, or maybe our old... maybe Lilia will be okay with me.

LILIA: Oh, I shall be going with someone else, young ones. Pray do not pay attention to me, Sebek, go and follow Malleus, if you will.

SEBEK: Lord Malleus!!!!! Wait for me!!! You cannot wander too much, I am sorry!!!

SILVER: So... what will you do, old man?

LILIA: I will be going with little Cater and Mr Clover. Who knows, maybe we will end up fighting you and Idia, fufufu?

SILVER: Wouldn't that make your team full of third-years students, though?

LILIA: Why, maybe. Maybe! But Trey nor Cater are as powerful as Idia, certainly, fufu. Wouldn't he be the perfect partner even there? Go and fly to him, who knows whom might end up with him otherwise. Wouldn't that be sad if he were to end up alone because people wanted to team up out of affection or strategy only, and not because of both? Although, I cannot fully blame them for that. We are, quite always young down here, or up there, aren't we?

SILVER: Mhh, yeah, you are right, I guess. It is not like I can team up with someone else while being sure they know how to act as a team, anyway... I will be going.

LILIA, aside: Well, well. I guess the story really is going as planned. How gratifying! I could really see myself as a god if it were to keep going. I wonder, I wonder, what is the good choice? The lie, the right investment? Is this compass showing the North, or the South? Is the North the North? The South the South, the south, south the? There is no such thing as a clock in our life, but this huge, or invisible Compass.

                                                         Scene VI:

ASHTON: So, everyone has formed their teams?

STUDENT(S) FROM A TO X, FROM H TO D: Yes, sir!

ASHTON: Okay, anyone to move forward? Or we gotta make the whole stuff harder and call people randomly? Come on, gather up some courage, you have nothin' to fear! Everything gonna be alright.

CATER DIAMOND: Heeho! I would like to begin, showing the way to the younger students and all, you know~!

ASHTON: Cater? Surprised but not disappointed! That's the way to go! So! Who's in your team?

CATER DIAMOND: Lilia Vanrouge and Trey Clover! Of course we won't be fighting first years, that would be really cruel and lame~!

ASHTON: Yeah, would be unfair although we shouldn't underestimate the youngsters. Someone to take up the challenge?

LILIA: Do not underestimate the young ones, indeed. Would this dear Silver tries to fight us? Since he knows me, dorms interwars could be interesting, don't you think so?

ASHTON: Can't tell, these kind of things really aren't for me! As long as you fight in the rules and all... What do you think, Silver?

SILVER: Well. I have only one partner, and I don't... do not know if Idia Shroud would be okay with fighting three people instead of two.

IDIA: I don't care... If I'm with Silver, we should be in synch enough to fight three people who don't really have a lot to do together...  

TREY: Huh? Did something happen between you two?

CATER: You really don't pay any attention, do you, Trie~?

ASHTON: Enough chatting! Everyone, get away from the arena! Time to fight and muscles to shine!

SILVER: En garde.

LILIA: Oh, no need to be so formal, young one! You will not have time to say such things in war... but it is pleasant to hear and witness such fantasy.

IDIA: Then, take that!

TREY: Come on, Idia! Why would you use tree spells when you know that we are so good with fire?

SILVER: Thanks for the smoke, here I come.

CATER: Eeeeeh! A light shot...! Don't blind me eeeeeh!

LILIA: Let me add more fumes to hide this quite too vivid light!

CATER: Ehhhh... I can't see any of y'all, now~! That's not funny... and that's unfair!

LILIA: Nothing is unfair in battle, young one. You should not have underestimated two partners, after all. Hm? What's that? Oh, oh, an ashen ground. How interesting... Our steps do not make any sound anymore... Or sound does not come anymore.

TREY: Huh oh, I feel like Idia had predicted that.

IDIA: Gyehehe! Take thaaaaaat!

CATER: Aaaaaaah!!!! MY LEGS ARE FROZEN~!!!

LILIA: I guess you had planned on making an whole quiet floor and freezing it right after. How interesting... Let me burn down these fake grounds.

SILVER: Idia, step back, wherever you are. The fumes will get worse if the old man really burns down the whole ground... concrete aside.

LILIA: Huhu, concrete aside? Wouldn't that be fun to burn down, though? I wonder what kind of toxic fumes would get out. No one can help you in this smoke, young ones!

TREY: You're getting creepy, please, stop, already. We don't want to trigger something in Idia... or anyone else...

CATER: Come and help me instead of playing the bad guy, Lilia~!! If I'm down that means I can't use our main diversion anymore!

LILIA: Why would you think I am merely playing now? I may have been tagging along all this time, come on. Someone must have fun watching us diving! Burn, slowly burn. What will these flames reveal?

SILVER: Old man, stop. I don't know what you're on, but I beg you to stop. This isn't going to end well if you keep

IDIA: Uuuh... I'm going to suffocate... I'm going to suffocate.

SILVER: LILIA! STOP!

LILIA: Aren't these red flames pretty? Look at how much they burn, they eat away the whole world. What can we build over this burned ground, I wonder?

IDIA: I'm going to suffocate. Suff.suff.suff.SUFF.SUFF.SUFF. Stop with the flames already! Fucking stop! Stop!! Just hit me with ice if you want, but no more flames, please!

CATER: Lilia, stop, come on~! This isn't funny anymore, don't mess with Idia, we don't know what he can doooo~!!!

IDIA: I should have guessed... I should have guessed that you would never agree with me being happy with Silver! Gehehe... i was so fucking naive, of course no one would like me to take away their preciouuuuus family!

TREY: The fumes are melting away... What is going on?!

CATER: Haha, I don't like this feeling of déjà-vu...

LILIA: Ahh, finally. Well, I guess I should present you Idia... once he has overblotted.

SILVER: LILIAAAAAA!

LILIA: Oh, pray, do not try to kill me, this would be useless. Won't you save your... boyfriend, is that the word I am supposed to use now?

IDIA: Huhhh... No matter how much I try... these flames just stick to my skin... Soon this won't be my skin anymore... I'm sorry, Ortho, i'm sorry... why do you have to be caged with a fucking useless and ridicule and selfish and awful and pathetic brother? I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

CATER: What do you want us to do, Lilia?! Holy fuck, I can't even tell anymore what's going, why would you do something so careless and stupid, not to say dangerous?!

LILIA: Why, to help him, of course.

CATER: Eeeeh~ You're that kind of bitch who thinks they knows everyone's pains and act as if you could heal everything without anyone's help?

LILIA: Oh, young one, I apologize. I want your help, as well as Silver's help and Trey's help. I promise everything will be alright.

TREY: I... strongly disagree with your method. I wish I could just slap you right now but now there are too many people watching. It's because of people like you that we keep having so many troubles... you're so young and yet you act like some kind of patronizing parent... But hey, better wait for the overblot to stop first. I'll slap you later. Any idea to help Idia?

LILIA: Well, Silver will be the main actor here. He is, after all, the "Prince Charming".  

[theskyeandsea]

Just Medicine || Erin & Skylar

Location: Nic & Skylar’s Home

Timing: June 14th

Tagging: @corpse--diem & @theskyeandsea

Description: Concerned by their troubling conversation online, Erin comes to check in on Skylar and the answers she finds are only more alarming.

Warnings: Addiction TW

If there was one person in town Erin never thought she had to worry about, it was the very one she found herself using the speed limit as a suggestion to get to right now. God damn it, Skylar. Sweet, innocent Skylar. The same young woman who taught ASL, who helped throw a gator-theme birthday bash. The woman was a seal, for Christ’s sake. It was an unfair pedestal to put her on, Erin knew that, and felt guilty when her frustrations drew those quick-fire judgments. People slipped up, lost their footing while trying to balance their worlds on their shoulders. Seal or not, Skylar was as susceptible as anyone. She didn’t know how to help, or if she could, but she’d be there even for a night to maybe help her keep her footing. Judging by the way she spoke earlier, that was very possibly a literal predicament. And with Nic fucking off into the woods, her own worry needed an outlet. And Skylar needed someone. “Skylar!” Erin hollered, nice and loud as she banged in the door. Jabbed the doorbell a few times for good measure. “Don’t even think about ignoring me, kid! I know where you hide your spare key!” 

For the past twenty four hours, Skylar had felt as though she was on cloud nine. Untouchable, nothing could stop her, nothing could hold her down. There was no pain, there wasn’t anything other than the euphoria that came with feeling completely, entirely good. The world was wonderful and bright and the sun was shining, eyeball free. Between that and her random spurts of energy that had driven her to run around in the backyard until she was dizzy, Skylar was feeling great. She’d never felt this way before. Never, ever, ever. Right now, she was lying in the middle of the living room, watching the fan whirl overhead, her eyes tracking one of the blades. Around and around and around and around and-- Skylar sat upright when she heard a loud pounding at the door. Glancing at her phone, she tilted her head. Erin? Listening closer, she nodded. Erin. Walking to the door, Skylar opened it, a dazed grin still on her face. “Hey, Erin!”

The longer Erin stood there waiting, the higher her blood pressure climbed. Tried not to think hard about why it was taking her so long to get to the damn door but it was hard when those enthusiastic, muddled messages kept replaying in her head. Then finally, footsteps. Skylar greeted her with a smile that wasn’t quite right, dark circles underlining nearly nonexistent pupils. “Skylar—“ she started but that concern returned, sharper than before as it trickled down her throat like barbed wire. Did she even remember Erin was coming over? It seemed like Skylar’s initial resistance to her company had disappeared like the rest of her good sense. “Hi,” she finally breathed out. “Can I come in?” It was framed as a question but Erin was already crossing the threshold to let herself in. There was no way she was leaving now. 

Erin was standing right in front of her and then she wasn’t, she was already inside. Skylar nodded all the same, happy to let the woman inside. “Nic’s not here right now, but,” She frowned, trying to piece together things. Time was strange. It felt both incredibly fast and slow at the same time-- like every moment went for infinity, but every hour felt like a second. Which didn’t make sense, even to her. “I think I already told you that.” Shutting the door behind her, Skylar wandered back over to the couch, where Dundee was still curled up. What she really wanted to do was lie on the floor like she had been doing before, the feeling of the wood cool compared to the rug. But, instead, she sat on the couch next to Dundee, staring at the dog as it wagged its tail once at her before going back to sleep. Running her hands against the material of the couch, Skylar tilted her head at Erin. “Why are you here again? Not that I’m not happy that you’re here, it’s always nice when you are! Nic smiles a lot when you say you’re coming by. But he’s not here right now.”

All Erin could do was follow silently, observing Skylar’s sporadic train of thought—when she wasn’t veering off course or colliding with other thoughts, anyway. It was all still jumbled and worrisome, even if she was being as sweet as she always was. “Yeah, I know he’s not,” she nodded. Her eyes flickered around the large room anyway, like he’d changed his mind and come home. Part of her was hoping that he had, that she’d answer the door and see him standing there. But the moment she saw Skylar’s state, it was likely for the best. One mess at a time. Couldn’t help smiling, even briefly, at her words, dropping her gaze to stare at the floor. “I didn’t come to see him,” Erin said, take great care to speak softly as she joined her on the couch. “I came to see you.” She bit her lip, Skylar’s bloodshot eyes more vibrant ever in the better lighting. “You said you were feeling better and I just—“ she paused, shrugging. “I was hoping you could help me with something?”

As Erin continued to speak, Skylar blinked-- it was harder for her to hear, harder for her to pick up the words that she was saying. And, as she tried to focus on the woman’s lips in an attempt to lip read, she was only able to pick up bits and pieces. Not much, just little hints here and there that managed to make it through the wonderfully light feeling that had encompassed her. It felt like there were bubbles in her, like she was floating up and up and up and there was nothing that could bring her down. “Mhm! I’m better!” She said with a vigorous nod as she pieced together the last of the woman’s words. “Help you? What do you need?” She asked, wanting to do whatever she could to help Erin. She liked Erin, even if she had initially been a little creeped out to find out that she worked with dead people all the time.

Erin wasn’t entirely convinced Skylar was following what she was saying, her eyes roaming like they were a little lost when she spoke. Right. Slow it down. Ugh, this was painful. “I’m really happy that you’re so happy.  Honestly, I am,” she nodded, taking her time, giving her a warmer smile. “But I gotta say, I’m not having the greatest day myself, you know? Like it’s been a really, really rough one.” Her brows narrowed in her direction, hoping Skylar was still out of it enough to roll with her impromptu plan. That part at least wasn’t a blatant lie? “I was hoping you could... show me what you did. To make yourself feel better.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “We’re friends, right? You’d help me out with something like that? Oh—just between us, too, of course,” she added, running her fingers along her lips like a zipper. 

The slower Erin spoke, the harder it was for Skylar to track what she was saying. The lip movements didn’t make as much sense, the pauses made it harder for her to latch onto what was being said. But, she did her best to parse through the words. Not… greatest… rough. “Oh, no! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, that’s awful.” She said, her head lolling back against the soft cushion of the couch as she stared up at Erin. She didn’t want Erin to have a bad day and she wanted to help! She really, really did. But, a look of confusion spread across her face at her words. “Are you hurt?” She asked, confused. Because the stuff making her feel better, it was only if she was hurting. Looking at Erin, she tilted her head. “Did someone hurt you?”

This was going to be difficult no matter which way she spliced it, huh? Erin willed her patience to persevere and worked her jaw, then nodded. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” she assured her, pausing briefly as she tried to navigate a believable lie. “Yep,” she answered when it felt like she was taking too long. “I, uh—got into an argument the other day with a real jerk. You don’t know him, and I took care of it so don’t worry about that either, but he gave me a heck of a shiner.” She pointed to the very faint purpled and yellowed bruise that still lingered near her eye and down her cheek. Cringed first show, then pointed to the back of her head. “Hit my head too, been killing me ever since. So if you’ve got anything to help—I’d really appreciate it.”

As Erin showed her the marks on the side of her head, Skylar’s eyes widened in shock. “And he hit you? Does Nic know?” She asked, a thin trickle of concern managing to seep through the buoyant lightness that kept her spirits aloft, that kept her from feeling the pain that she normally would. At the other woman’s words, Skylar bit the inside of her cheek, though the gesture lacked the normal dull pressure that it usually did. The stuff Felix gave to her, it was strong. Really, really strong. How else could it have worked on her? It would probably be super bad for Erin. So she wasn’t going to show her the bliss. Nope, that would probably knock her out really bad. But, she still had a pill or two left from when she’d gotten shot by the river. “I’ve got something that could help!” She said, standing up on slightly unsteady feet before walking to her room. 

Erin shook her head softly, waving off Skylar’s concern. “Nic knows. It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but—I hit him back,” she assured her, the sound of the metal baseball back smacking against skull thundering in her mind. “Got him sent to a place where he can’t hurt anyone again.” She shifted slightly. Was this actually working? Hopefully she wouldn’t remember why Erin needed whatever it was that had gotten Skylar so completely fucked up in the first place. Erin was on her feet, following behind her—partially to make sure she made it to her room in one piece. But she hung back by the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched her. As glad as she was that this was actually about to work, her insides twisted at the reality here. Skylar wasn’t fucking okay. “And this helped?” She asked, peering into her room

“Oh, okay.” Skylar nodded, her concerns disappearing with the wave of Erin’s hand. If she said it was fine, if she said that the guy who hurt her was gone, then there wasn’t anything for her to worry about. As she entered her room, she made her way to her desk, opening the drawer and rummaging around among the papers, pens, and the random odds and ends that rolled around inside. Her fingers brushed against the small box Felix had sent her, that she’d taped to the underside of the desk to hide it from anyone who might try and find it. Instead of taking the box, her fingers curled around the pill bottle he’d sent her over a month ago. A few loose pills rattled around and she showed it to Erin. “I don’t know if it would be safe for you, though. It’s very, very strong. Medicine doesn’t work on me very well, so I need a lot of it.” She said, holding out the bottle.

Erin bit the inside of her lip as she eyed the pill bottle, torn between being infuriated and heartbroken right now. “I’m not taking these,” she answered honestly, grabbing the bottle. So this was it, huh? There only a few left, which made sense considering Skylar’s current state. Erin held it up before giving it a little shake at her,  then met her bloodshot eyes. “And neither are you,” she added, the softness in her tone slipping, giving way to a mix of concern and disappointment. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this shit isn’t the answer. I know you feel good now but it’s temporary.” Skylar was a grown ass woman and Erin knew she wasn’t saying anything every after school special had to offer, but she had to try right? She handed the bottle back to her “I want you to toss those. Right now.”

Blinking in confusion, Skylar was too out of it to react quickly enough to stop Erin from pulling the pill bottle from her hand. Before she could wrap her head around what was going on, the bottle was back in her hand and she was staring at Erin with a confused expression on her face. “I... Why? I’ve never felt good, in my entire life. Never, ever.” She shook her head vigorously. Even if these weren’t the right pills, what she was saying about the medicine… “It’s medicine. It’s helping me. It’s helping me not feel bad and not be stuck,” Skylar pointed at her bed, “Stuck in bed all day because, because everything is too much.” And she didn’t need to change. And that was the most important thing. 

Erin felt another crack in her chest give way while Skylar spoke. “Skylar…” she shook her head. “It’s not. I swear to you that it’s not. What you’re feeling, right now? It’s not real. There are other ways—better ways—to cope. I promise. I’m not just staying that either. I understand… that,” she said, gesturing to the bed now too. That heavy exhaustion that could trap a person down like a leaded blanket was a battle she knew all too well. It was hell. Turning to this was tempting on so many levels that she couldn’t blame Skylar at all for wanting that escape. But God did this ever feel a minefield. “Way better than you’d think, okay? And we can talk about all of that, as little or as much as you want.” Her eyes dropped to the bottle with the pills again. “After you flush those.”

Skylar did her best to muddle through Erin’s words. Not real? No, this was the only thing that felt real and right and good. Shaking her head, she looked at Erin, her blue eyes earnest, “I don’t think you do, though. No one really does. I hate what I am. It’s hurt me. It hurt my family, the people I care about. It still hurts me. And I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I just want,” She let out a puff of air, blowing loose strands of hair from her face, “to be normal. And this is normal!” Skylar gestured to herself. “I feel good! I love how I am! I’m happy and better like this.” She nodded with renewed vigor.

Of all the nonsense Skylar had been blabbering on about, this threw Erin for a loop. It wasn’t nonsense at all, of course, if you focused on the direction this skewed train headed toward. It was very real. And very concerning. “Because you’re a selkie?” She asked, if only just to clarify. “What’s wrong with that?” Erin had her secrets, no question, but this specifically wasn’t an area she could dole out sage advice. And unless selkies were also some sort of man eating version of a seal she wasn’t aware of, she genuinely didn’t understand. She shook her head slowly. “Skylar—there is no normal. It doesn’t exist. And if there ever was one, it’s not you doped up on painkillers. It’s temporary because it’s not you. You will crash, and you will feel even more like shit than you did before.”

“Everything’s wrong with me.” Skylar said, her voice still even and upbeat as she spoke. She’d lost everything by being what she was. Her family had cut her out of their lives entirely. She’d tried and failed to gain control over this side of her, tried to figure out how to love what she was. She’d lost Ricky, lost the one person who had reassured her that he would be there to help her figure out what it meant to be a selkie. She’d only ever failed and lost and been hurt by what she was. So, what was wrong with this? What was wrong with feeling good? Even if it was only for now… maybe she could keep it going. If she just took a little more, took a little bit to make sure that she was good, that she was okay, maybe then she’d never need to turn. Maybe she could be human. “It’s okay. It’ll all be okay.” She said with a blissful smile.

Skylar was convinced this was the better way and Erin was realizing nothing she said was going to penetrate the iron-clad armor of serotonin that kept her grinning like an idiot. What little energy she had was depleting fast and what Erin could do right now was make sure she didn’t do anything stupid in this state. “It’ll be okay,” she echoed with a long sigh. Everything would be okay. It had to. Nic would come home and they’d work this all out. Squids and seal self-loathing be damned. She’d accept nothing less. “Come here,” she stepped forward, a temporary defeat in her voice as she wrapped her arms around the young woman. “I happen to think you’re pretty awesome just the way you are, you know. So I’m gonna stay here tonight and hang out. That alright with you?”

When Erin reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, Skylar wasn’t sure how to react. Hadn’t she been mad at her? But now she was hugging her. Whatever confusion she had was pushed out of her mind as she leaned into the embrace, burrowing her head into the woman’s shoulders. Skylar hugged Erin back, though her limbs felt limp and rubbery as she did so. “Okay. That sounds good to me.” She said, her voice muffled. This was good. Everything was right and good. Even if the house was empty, even if Nic was nowhere to be found, even if Shiloh hadn’t messaged her in days, even if Remmy had been torn into pieces before her eyes, even if Morgan was still trying to figure out her new life as a zombie, even if Deirdre had murdered people, even if White Crest was awful and cruel and terrible… Right now, things were good. And that’s what mattered.

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Part 19

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Violence, use of powers, injury, fluff, language.

Word count: 3500

Thank you to @shygirl-00 and @mochibarnes for your help with ideas and when I was stuck! 😘

The Reader is forced to take on a challenge while Bucky is faced with a very cute opportunity.

ALL TAG LISTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN 💖 feel free to come and chat, my blog is always open for you 💕

_______________________________

“Going in from the west side.” Your hushed tone came over the comms. “Roger that, closing in from the northern entrance, do not engage.” Steve’s voice crackled slightly from interference. You were in a crouched position, moving towards the main building you were infiltrating.

 A last minute mission, low risk, high priority. Get in, get the data and get out. It seemed simple, but quickly became much more complex than you had hoped it would be. When you had arrived, there were far more Hydra agents than originally speculated, leaving the mission much higher risk than you’d thought it would be.

 “Did you hear me? Confirmation required.” Steve was in full work mode, no sweetheart or sweetie here. He was in his Captain mode, firm and sometimes harsh tone, little emotion shown as he did the job. “Confirmed, Captain.” You answered, a relieved sigh passing through Steve’s lips. He knew how you felt about coming on the mission, so he’d specifically set it up so that you didn’t have to do any combat unless it was absolutely needed. He was the one taking the front, allowing you time to slip in and get the data you needed.

 You paused mid movement, immediately forcing yourself up against a half wall outside the back entrance. “Five hostiles on the west side.” You hissed into the comms. A grunt and a muttered curse came down the line. “Can you take them?” Steve asked. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take them without using your powers if you just ran in and started throwing punches.

No. You were going to do this quietly and if you were careful, no one would ever know you’d even been there.

 You moved around the low wall, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. You kept your breathing under control as you watched the movements of the men around you, waiting for the precise moment to take the first strike.

 Quickly, you reached up, cupping your hand over the mouth and nose of the agent closest to you and hooked your other arm around his neck. You used your full body weight and strength to yank him down with you behind the wall while you knocked him out in a single movement. “What’s your status?” Steve whispered. There were too many around you to speak up, they’d hear you, it could put you in a more dangerous situation. You had to stop yourself from swearing out loud when you spotted three more agents approaching. “Are you there? Status.” Steve tried again.

 A strangled sound, a few muffled movements and a groan was all Steve could hear, momentarily breaking his composure as he snuck around the front entrance. “Sweetheart?”

 “You think they’ll be alright?” Bucky asked, sighing as he stared down at his coffee. “Yeah, they’ll be fine.” Sam nodded, fiddling about with the week’s shopping list. “Your girl can take care of herself just fine, Steve’s there, it’ll be okay.” Sam smiled, scribbling something down to buy. “Why didn’t he take you?” Bucky asked before taking a long sip of the slightly-too-hot coffee. “Clint used one of his explosive arrows and it blew off a chunk of my wing, gotta get it fixed.” He rolled his eyes.

“Do we have cheese?” Sam asked.

“No.” Bucky replied, honestly he had no idea and didn’t really want to participate, so he made up an answer. “Can’t you fight without the wings?” Bucky asked, frowning a bit. “Shut up.” Sam countered, throwing a used coffee capsule at him. “Can you put plums on the list?” Bucky asked, twirling his cup around slowly. “No.” Sam deadpanned while he messily wrote plums down.

 “You coming with me?” Sam asked, flapping the shopping list about. “You’re tall enough to reach everything, right?” Bucky smirked, receiving an offended glare from Sam. “Obviously.” He scoffed in response. “Then you don’t need me.” Bucky excused himself before Sam could force him to join the grocery shopping trip. “But- Buck- you’re shit company anyway!” He called out of the kitchen as Bucky walked away. “So are you!” Bucky called back from down the hallway, a smile making it’s way onto Sam’s lips. In Bucky and Sam terms, that was as close to saying I love you to each other as they were going to get, but it was all just mindless banter with no real harshness to it.

 Bucky walked down the street, pausing to kneel down and tighten the lace of his boots. As he looked up, he saw the closed café and he let out a sigh. Oh, pretty girl, I wish this place was still open for us. Bucky wandered towards the old café, his eyes on the rental sign above the shop. The windows were now blacked out, presumably until it was refitted. Bucky pondered for a moment, staring up at the sign above the shop. He eyed the phone number for the agency and thought on it for a moment.

Don’t be ridiculous, the Winter Soldier owning a goddamn café.

No, it would be Bucky and his girl baking sweet treats and making coffees together. Maybe he could even build her a herb garden so she could make her own tea blends and- no, you’re getting carried away. It’s just a dumb dream.

A really stupid, dumb-

 A soft squeak like sound pulled Bucky from his thoughts and he looked about for the source of the noise. There were people around, it was raining and there was quite a bit of traffic on the main road, but this street was fairly quiet. The sound came again and Bucky peered around the side of the café into the small alleyway. Dumpsters and rubbish bags lined the alleyway and it smelled something awful. Bucky took a side step towards the alley entrance, pausing when he saw some rubbish shift and heard a rustle.

 Bucky waited for a moment, almost limiting himself from breathing properly, careful not to make even the slightest sound. He was a trained assassin, he could probably sneak up on whatever was in that alley, not that he was likely to do that. His eyes widened when a literal ball of fluff peeked around a bin bag. Oh. My. God. It’s SO CUTE. The little fluffy cat, a Maine Coon Bucky thought, slowly stepped out into the open. The cat looked skinny, despite the large amount of fluff to suggest otherwise, but he knew it was starving just by looking at it.

 Edging closer to the little cat, Bucky crouched down on one knee, slowly extending a hand out and waiting for it to come to him. It sniffed the air a little, eyes locked on him as it wearily checked its surroundings before limping towards him, one of the front paws of the cat was damaged enough it couldn’t bare weight on it and Bucky’s heart broke clean in half at the sight. Poor little baby. A sad smile spread across his lips as the cat approached, nose nudging his finger slightly as it inspected him, judging whether Bucky was trustworthy. “Hi friend.” Bucky whispered out, the little cat staring up at him for a moment before gently leaning into his hand.

 The alarm blared loudly in your ears, not that you could hear much over the ringing. You ran, full pelt for the server room. You could hear Steve talking, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. You spotted shadows of men approaching down the hall and practically threw yourself into the server room, closing the door and blocking it, heaving out a deep breath. You drew your silenced pistol, clicking off the safety before you started your sweep of the room, making sure to be careful between the rows of servers and computer parts.

 “Sweetheart, what’s going on?” Steve voice crackled through your ear piece, but you only caught half of what he said, your ears still ringing from a nasty hit you took to the side of the head. “I’m in the server room.” You replied, keeping your voice low. “I’m coming to you. Are you hurt? I’m calling for immediate evac, this is too high risk.” Steve’s voice was wavering between stern Captain and concerned best friend, finding it hard to keep focus. “I- I’m fine Steve.” You mumbled, reaching up to wipe away a trickle of blood from the side of your head, the tangy, metallic smell flooding your senses.

Not fine.

You’re not fine.

 You stepped slowly through the rows, analysing each section until you reached where you needed to be. Your hands were shaking more than you’d expected them to, causing you to fumble with the flash drive you pulled from your tac suit pocket. “Drop the mission, we’re getting out.” Steve ordered. “No, I’ve got this Steve.” You shook your head, breathing out as you plugged in the flash drive, the program on it was set to automatically transfer the files, bypassing any encryption walls in place. “We have to go, west entrance, two minutes.” Steve instructed, he sounded like he was running. Two minutes was all you needed.

 “One minute thirty, hurry it up.” Steve stressed down the comms. You looked down at your smart watch where the progress bar for the file transfer was displayed. “It’s at eighty percent, give me thirty more seconds and I’ll move.” You reasoned. “No, it’s too long, get out of there.” Steve put on his best Captain voice.

Ninety five percent.

Ninety six.

Ninety seven.

“Come on, evac is about to land!” Steve yelled down the ear piece at you.

Ninety nine.

“Sweetheart, please.” Steve sounded desperate. “Shit, oh fuck.” Steve breathed out. Rapid gunfire filled your ears, muffled movements and glass breaking.

One hundred percent.

 You grabbed the flash drive, bolting straight for the door, slipping it back into your secured pocket as you went. “I’m making an exit now.” You informed him, trying to keep your voice level as you heard the background noise of a fight, both over the comms and in the distance. “West entrance in compromised, get to the evac from the east side, I’ll join you back at base.” Steve shouted at you. “What? No, I’m not leaving you.” You frowned, pulling the server room door open and looking both ways down the corridor. “Dammit, do as I told you, don’t engage and get on the fucking jet.” He shouted.

 Stay or go? Leave Steve or delay evacuation?

That fight sounded brutal. It sounded bad. It sounded like a full shoot out and Steve was by himself. Sure, he was a super soldier and you’d seen him take on full groups of people, but he usually had backup. You were his backup.

 Fuck it.

 “You fucking- what?” Sam seethed over the phone. “I got a cat, moron.” Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You can’t just- fuck me, Stark’s gonna kill you.” He groaned. “Put it in a shelter or something.” Sam sighed. “She is in a shelter, she’s in my room.” Bucky smiled down at his newest little friend, purring away as she rolled about on his bed. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. No- this is on you.” Bucky could almost hear the eye roll from Sam. “I don’t want it near me.” Sam sighed. “It is a she and her name is Gemini or Gem for short.” Bucky said matter-of-factly. “You have a nickname for it already?” Sam sounded incredulous. “Her, she is female, Sam.” Bucky corrected, rolling his eyes. “Un-fucking-believable.” And then Sam hung up.

 “It’s alright little Gem, Sam will melt when he sees you.” Bucky grinned lazily at the fluff ball next to him, her paw wrapped up in a bandage as she lay on her back, gently kneading at his arm as he stroked her fur down. Gem trilled at him and Bucky swore he felt his heart melt, almost as much as it did when he saw you doing cute things. “Urgh, you’re so fucking cute.”

 You bolted out of the building, slamming the door against the outside wall so hard that the metal groaned a bit. Agents swarmed the back compound area and you were out in the open. Perhaps running straight out of the building like a bat out of hell was not the best idea. “What the hell are you doing?” Steve hissed down the comms, unimpressed by your appearance. “I told you to go.” He grumbled as he was swarmed by a whole group of Hydra agents. You leapt into a sprint, running straight for the group, rage boiling up inside of you.

 You didn’t want to have to do it. You never wanted to, especially not since last time. Not since the damage you caused your own mind last time. But you had to. “Sweetheart go.” Steve all but begged, but you ignored him, launching yourself right at the group, a blast of power throwing the front of the formation to the ground, disrupting the whole crowd. You stood, one against nearly forty men and women.

 Flashbacks from your last real use of your powers on a mission came back to you. Not again. You wouldn’t let it cause you the same pain again. You couldn’t be afraid of yourself anymore. You had to do this. Even if Steve didn’t need saving, you needed to do it for yourself, perhaps it was selfish, perhaps it was stupid, but some part of you made you feel like you needed to do this, to prove something to yourself.

 “Steve, shield.” You ordered, voice low, eyes squinted slightly as you concentrated. “What?” He breathed out, crouched on the floor. He saw you running straight of him and he immediately understood, pulling his shield over his crouched form. You ran full pelt towards him, your powers feeling like a blaze ripping through your forearms as it travelled towards your palms, the fire within you igniting. You leapt up, feet landing on the face of his shield and Steve jolted at an upwards angle, giving you the leverage you needed.

 You were propelled up into the air, flying forwards, fire erupting out of your palms in swirling, controlled spheres. You landed in the middle of the group of agents, using the force of your landing to send waves of fiery energy out, knocking everyone back. You screamed out when the fire encircled you, making it hard for you to regain control of it, to pull it back in.

 “Stop! Sweetheart, you need to calm down!” Steve raced over to you, almost reaching out for you but retracted his hand before he could burn himself on the energy force around you. “Deep breaths, focus on me, not them.” Steve’s eyes flitted about, checking for any more agents who could be around. “I need you to take long deep breaths, I need you to stop, we have to leave before backup arrives.” Steve was teetering on the edge of Captain mode and protective brother mode. “Sweetheart please.” He breathed out, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t control it; it was impossible to pull it back in. “I can’t Stevie.” You turned away from him, propelling a huge force of energy, exerting all of the power you had left, leaving you weak.

 “Fucking- you weren’t supposed to do that.” Steve grunted out as he lurched forwards, reaching out to catch you as your knees buckled. Your eyelids felt so damn heavy, everything felt heavy and numb. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Steve asked, you felt dazed, weak and shaky. It was all a bit too much. “Shouldn’t have to done that, we shouldn’t have done this, as soon as we saw there were too many we should have just left.” Steve pulled you close to him, lifting you up from the ground as he looked around nervously. “I’ll get you out of here, sweetheart, hold on.”

 “Oh my- did you really have to get a damn cat?” Sam huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered around Bucky at Gem. “She chose me, I had to bring her home!” Bucky exclaimed, like that was a valid excuse, which if you asked him, it was.

“I’m not feeding it.”

“Her.” Bucky grumbled.

“I’m not feeding it. Or playing with it or cleaning up its poop.” Sam scowled.  

His pissed off demeanor slowly frayed at the edged when Gemini sidled up towards him, stepping so delicately between Bucky’s legs and letting out a sweet little trill as she swished her tail in curiosity at the new human in her home. Sam’s eyes softened for a moment until he caught Bucky’s smug grin and immediately resumed his scowl. “Shut up.” He growled through gritted teeth before stomping away, giving a quick glance back at Gemini as she happily twirled herself around Bucky’s legs.

 No, no, no, pretty girl, please be okay. “What did you do to her?” Bucky pushed between Steve and Sam to get a look at you in your hospital bed. Fuck me, she looks so weak. “You idiot Steve, you should’ve pulled her outta there!” Bucky raged upon seeing his girl completely knocked out and on fluids. “I tried! I tried Buck; she wouldn’t listen!” Steve defended himself. “She insisted on getting the data and when I told her to leave me and go for evac, she came back for me.” Steve explained. “Oh my- Steve, are you stupid? Of course she’d come back for you!” Bucky half-heartedly slapped his chest. “Sometimes I feel like I’m competing with you for her favourite person, you shoulda’ known she’d come back for you.” Bucky frowned.

 He wasn’t really mad at Steve, but the man was so blinded by his role as Captain that he failed to consider that you, a very stubborn, sweet girl who adored the crap out of Steve, would ever dream of leaving him.

 “M’sorry Buck.” Steve sighed, a look of guilt on his features as he watched over you, his fingers lacing between yours. “She’ll be okay though.” He glanced down at you. “She’s our strong girl.” Steve murmured as he moved to gently brush some of your hair out of the way. Bucky came down to sit on the other side of your bed, busying himself with making sure you had your pillow just how you liked it and that your blanket was pulled up to where he knew was comfortable for you, making sure to pull it tight enough that all the creases were gone. “Our strong girl.” Bucky smiled, gently grazing your cheek with his metal fingers.

My strong, pretty girl.

 “A mocha for the soul and a chocolate pancake for the stomach.” Bucky handed you a tray of food and leaned forwards to kiss your forehead before he fluffed your pillow for the umpteenth time that morning. “Thank you Bucky.” You grinned up at him, Steve peering around the door into your bedroom. You, thankfully, had gained enough energy to go back up to your quarters and continue your recovery in the comfort of your own space.

 “How’s my sweetheart doing?” Steve asked as he walked into the room, giving you a soft smile. “Much better.” You replied, through a mouthful of pancake. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry about what happened.” Steve sighed, sitting down next to you. “Stevie, I’d do it a hundred time over if it meant I didn’t have to leave you to fight alone.” You shook your head frantically. Yes, the recovery was gruelling, but in your eyes, it was worth it.

 A little squeaky meow caught your attention and you gasped dramatically when you caught sight of a fluffy tail walking into the bedroom. “Oh my god.” You squealed excitedly, trying to crane your neck to see the little cat who had made herself welcome to your space.

“A… Cat?” Steve looked absolutely befuddled. “Her name is Gemini, or Gem for short.” Bucky grinned, enjoying the excitement on your face as you watched Gem hop up on the bed. Steve immediately leapt up from his spot and stared wide eyed at her. “You got a cat?” Steve almost shrieked, looking down at the sweet, calm little fluffy cat as if she was the devil incarnate. “Mhm.” Bucky nodded, quite pleased with the chaos he’d caused for both Sam and Steve.

 “No- no, you have to take it out.” Steve shook his head. “Stevie, please.” You pouted, giving him your sweetest look, big eyes and all, causing him to pause with his mouth wide open as he looked at you. He stayed silent for a moment until Gemini nudged her face against Steve’s leg and he stared at her with such confusion.

 “You did almost kill my girl, I think letting us keep Gem is a good apology, don’t you think doll?” Bucky shot you a sly grin, making you giggle. “I think so.” You nodded. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to kick out a little stray kitty, Stevie.” You spoke in the cutest voice you could muster and Steve glanced up at you, a look of defeat as he sighed. “Fine.” He huffed before making his way out of your room.

 “Welcome to the family, Gem.” You gently stroked the top of her head, eliciting a blissful trill from her as Bucky settled on the edge of the bed to join you in making a fuss of the little Maine Coon.

Our little family.

_______________________________

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[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

NSFW #22: It All Begins Again

Mar 14, 2019 at 1:01am MNB, FSW, and 5 more like thisPost by bishopchurch on Mar 14, 2019 at 1:01am The setting was absolutely magnificent. It was a warm early spring day. The sky was blue with the occasional wisp of cloud, seeming to exist more for aesthetics than any threat of rain. The afternoon sun provided a refreshing warmth, welcome after a long winter chill. This glorious sky was reflected in the small lake, but still, this enchanting sight paled in comparison to the loveliness at its shores. This was Shinjuku Gyonen National Gardens in Tokyo, and Japan’s cherished sakura were in bloom. At the lakeside, and in fact, throughout the large garden park, stately cherry trees bore full, lush displays of sweetly fragrant pale pink blossoms. Several groups of people walked over the bridges and shady paths to see them, to fully appreciate their beauty while it was there to enjoy. And sitting on a picnic blanket under one of these beautiful trees, nibbling on a snack of mochi and amazake, were the EWC Tag Team Champions. Leaning back on the heel of one palm, Mike McGuire polished off her piece of red bean mochi, licked her fingers clean, and grinned at the camera. “Sorry if it’s a little rude to be chowing down on camera, Faithful. See, me and Church are partaking in a Japanese spring tradition. When the cherry blossoms start blooming like this, people from all walks of life like to have picnics and parties under them. Y’know, have something good to eat, enjoy each other’s company, and savor what I gotta admit are some really fuckin’ gorgeous flowers. They call it hanami, and the people here’ve been doing some variation of it for centuries.” A sudden breeze jarred a blossom loose from its mooring, and the flower drifted slowly downward. Reaching up a small cup, Mike managed to catch it. “This stuff’s amazake, by the way. All the tradition of sake without the booze. It ain’t half bad. But anyway. The cherry blossoms. They got meaning here. Cherry blossoms- sakura, as the people here say it- are a beautiful flower, but they don’t last very long. About two weeks, tops, then they rain down all their petals and they’re gone. They say that the short, beautiful life of the sakura is a metaphor for life and death, but since they come back every spring to blossom again, they’re also a symbol of renewal.” Looking down into her cup, Mike’s smile grew a bit wistful. “So, it’s been a whole year since these flowers’ve shown up. And y’know, it’s been a whole year almost since something else showed up, too.” John set his cup down in front of him. “The biggest show of the year.” “Stranglemania. The Grandaddy of ‘em all, like they say. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited as all hell. There’s something about this time of year. It’s kind of like a fuckin’ electrical current and I think everybody can feel it buzzing in their spines and teeth and tingling all over their skin. Everybody wants to make their best just a little better, reach a little higher, fight a little harder. Pull themselves… heh. A little higher up the ladder.” Sipping at the amazake around the blossom, Mike followed her partner’s suit and set her cup aside as well. “Let’s talk about one year ago.” John reached behind, just around the dark wood trunk of the cherry tree. He retrieved the prize of this upcoming bout: the EWC Tag Team Championships. He set them in front of Mike and himself. “One year ago, these were an afterthought.” And he let that statement hang in the air for a moment. “And the team that held them? They considered them secondary to their greater aspirations. Harvey Yorke. Toni Gunn. The Moors Murders held these titles for just about a year. And they talked a big game but at the end of the day, they were champions of an anemic division consisting of long defunct ‘teams’ and random pairings. And then for nearly six months, they were held hostage by one man. Then, transferred to a team that we knew…” John tapped the front plate of the championship. “We KNEW wouldn’t last. Mike and I? We liberated these and piece by piece we have rebuilt this division to something that is actually worth supporting. All of these new teams? They want these. And it’s because they want to face us.” Mike nodded, shouldering her belt. “Despite what some chumps may say, these two little golden beauties have, in the course of a year, become everybody’s darling. You got tag teams popping up like rabbits all wanting to get their paws on these karats. We watched them all line up and one by one, they all got knocked out, till we’re left with just one. One team that through sheer fucking mettle earned the right to face us and try their luck. But despite a juggernaut showing in the #1 Contender tournament, Shock and Awe are still new. So maybe we ought to fill them in on what they’re dealing with, y’know, just in case they haven’t done their due fuckin’ dilligence.” She leaned forward, fingers drumming over one of the sideplates on the leather strap. “You see, you two, Stranglemania ain’t the only thing that’s been a year in the making. This year, you’re the new kids in town. But a year ago? So were we. Shit, when we first met I wasn’t even a wrestler anymore.” “And me? I had just debuted. Killjoy Ito had just shown me in my debut that I was far from being in ring shape. And my contribution at last year’s big show was being attacked from behind by Dominic Sanders.” John shook his head. “Some things never change.” Mike tisked. “Hindsight’s 20/20. I shoulda thought of that before I got chummy with the fucker in the first place, but hey, at least I got a friend out of it. Just not him. But I digress. It wasn’t long after last year’s show that we debuted as a tag team. And after an early stumble that I can barely even remember? We took off running and never stopped. We ran all the way to my hometown, grabbed the gold, and we’re still running, stride for stride.” “And now we’re here. Lots of unknowns swirling together for a seemingly perfect storm to upend our reign. Last time we were in Tokyo, we ended up flat on our backs due to the aforementioned villain. And a ladder match? Never been in one of those before. You?” “Not that I can remember.” Mike shrugged. “But you know, I never really tagged before this and it seems to be working out pretty good so far. And heights don’t bother me much. So what the hell, they say you should try new shit while travelling abroad, and I’m willing to expand that to the business as well as the local culture.” “The biggest unknown to us out of all of this? Our opponents. Curtis Mars. Freya Hobs.” Mike tapped at her chin a bit, looking up through the pink blossoms in thought. “Yeah, our own due diligence has been a little lacking. I mean, you guys did just get here and all. But there’s some things that are plain to see- you just may be the only team we’ve faced so far that can come close to matching our synch. We’ve watched the matches you’ve had here. We see the way you communicate without even saying nothin’, the way you take each other’s direction by instinct. We’ve got that too. I mean, we don’t have the ‘pawing all over each other to the point of dry humping on camera’ thing going on, but hey, we ain’t gonna judge. You kids do you. But what it comes down to is, our synch alone ain’t gonna be enough to get us through this one- but neither is yours.” John gave Mike a quick look. It was shared. “To paraphrase the Stones: can’t always get what you want but you get what you need. Mike and I wanted The Limit. We wanted the culmination of our greatest rivalry on the biggest stage possible. But all of that talk about unlimiting themselves?” His shoulders slumped, showing his disappointment. “Just talk. And then we could have went another round with Criterion. We could have used another laugh. But Mars, Hobs, here you are. Our challengers. And after some deliberation, you two will probably be our toughest opponents to date.” “And that’s just fine with us. You two, you seem to thrive off pain. I can get that, kinda- the adrenaline rush, the taste of blood in your mouth, everything hurting but only wanting to get up and keep fucking pounding. But that ain’t what we thrive off of. What drives us in that ring is challenge. Competition. And to be frank, we’ve been disappointed in that regard by a couple’a Vikings before, but I got the idea in this head of mine that you’re gonna be different. I talked before about a fight that you can talk about in Valhalla. I have the feeling in my bones that this just might be it. But make no mistake. You’re gonna push us to that limit, that orange and green line that we’ve drawn out. But you’re not going to pass it.” Suddenly, John stood up, taking his half of the belts and putting it over his right shoulder. Mike’s last words hovered for effect as John took in his surroundings. “That’s cliche, I know. Anything could happen. But here’s why. We can’t let you. Curtis, Freya. Husband and wife. Tag team. You may move like us. You may speak like us. You may even win like us. But Shock and Awe is a pale imitation at best. Coming up from behind us, running through what we’ve already conquered. You two do your homework well enough. And maybe we could attribute all of this to how great minds think alike but that would be a lie. We are nothing alike except for what you take from us. But certainly not these.” Mike rose up as well, taking a slight step to the side to stand closer to her partner. “Remember what I said about the sakura blossoms? Life, death, and renewal. Both Church and I…” She breathed in. Exhaled. “We’ve had lives full of promise, and then both hit very different events that could’ve killed us literally and did kill us in different ways. Ways we lived through, but took something from us. The kind of pain I doubt even you couple’a masochists would get a kick out of. You talk about pain and brutality all the time, but I have a feeling even you would’ve squirmed at the stuff we’ve lived through. But then there’s that third factor. We came here a year ago as near strangers, and together? We fucking rose. Everything fell away, and here we are now. Alive again. Renewed.” “Thanks to Mike, I feel like I’ve discovered who I am.” There was a hitch in his words as he qualified his words directly to the camera. “In this profession.” Mike, for once, didn’t respond verbally, but gave a sage sort of nod. “But why can’t we let you take these from us? In the physical sense - these are what? Metal plates screwed into leather? They represent a status in this company. Champions. The standard-bearers. I wish I could explain it better but it’s more to us.” The Bronx Brawler nodded along with that, affirming her partner’s words. “You either get it or you don’t. The great champions in history, in any division, understood that. It’s an understanding that made any strap that you won through the sweat of your brow and the blood in your veins worth defending with all your fucking heart. Even the ones that seem beneath everyone else’s time and effort.” “So what would these mean to Shock and Awe? Apparently very little to Mars. Curtis, you admitted as much before relieving Xavier Reid of his. And to Freya and yourself, it’s just a means to an end. That’s why. That is why. These aren’t to be just had. We are THE premier tag team in this company. And that is because we give this division and these championships the respect that they deserve. That is why if we could we’d defend them every night we stepped into the ring. Shock and Awe as tag team champions returns us to where we were all before this.” As if on a subtle cue, the camera angle began to change, lowering and tilting upward into a distinct Dutch angle- from here, the already giant Church looked impossibly massive, and even the smaller McGuire looked distinctly more imposing. “That’s why we can’t let you take these. You don’t really care. We care more than you could possibly imagine. No. We need to hold on to these because with every defense, the Tag Team Championships become more synonymous with us. That fuckin’ synonymy solidifies our future spot in the Hall of Fame every single time we walk away with these. Not as two singles competitors, but as the very best pure tag team that the EWC has ever seen or will see again. The once, present, and future kings.” “Curtis, Freya, you two seem to know a lot about everyone. How much they weigh. What they call their moves. What they ate for breakfast. None of that matters. Those are the details you learn - not regurgitate into soundbytes. We know who you are and that is a return to the status quo. You shouldn’t worry much about that, though. You’ll have your singles careers to fall back on just in case things don’t work out. Ask Carlos Ruiz that. Iggy Swango, too. Great champions in their own right but unable to hang in a division where individual aspirations take a backseat. They’ve found their calling now. And so has Curtis with his nicknames and penchant for cruelty. Freya, as well, just within reach of her own opportunity that will certainly come in some other form another day.” “The slaughterhouse FSW is turning into seems right up her alley. So go. Curtis, you have a great run as X Division champion, make yourself the true Warden of Extreme. Freya, claw your way to the FSW Championship, if things don’t become so warped down there that any sort of victory is fucking impossible. We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavours. But don’t think you can just hold hands, decide just because you’re both married and nuttier than squirrel turds that you make a tag team worthy of carrying these, and beat us. Because let me clue you in on something.” Mike leaned down. Her green eyes were harsh and sharp. As if responding to the mood of NSFW’s words, a particularly fluffy cloud drifted lazily in front of the sun, casting the sunlit park in an extended pall of shadow. “Your concept of barbarism and mayhem isn’t new to us. A little of that due diligence I mentioned would’ve told you that.” The scene of the sakura-laden garden is interrupted jarringly with a flash-film montage. Grizzly Duggan being told, through a hard knee and a Mack-force punch to the mouth, to Batter Up, Motherfucker, a thunderous crowd leaping to their feet as new Tag Team Champions were crowned. “Violent.” Arya Melon struggling to no avail, desperate to escape Bishop Church’s ironclad grip before everything darkens for her, the Melon Wolf falling unconscious. “Brutal.” Mike being popped up in the air by strong, trusted arms only to plummet downward toward her target, the end result being a hard forearm crashing right into Yeshwa’s face. “Explosive.” Nina Samson hit with a vicious redheaded cannonball of a diving headbutt, the ambitious dreams of the young woman dashed with three slaps to the mat. “Sadistic.” All manner of vicious ferocity- not just from Mike, who one would expect that sort of thing from, but more jarringly from the outwardly gentle-natured Church as well. Both dispensing all forms of punishment both in pursuit and defense of their Tag Team gold. The scene reset back to them and visual softened back to normal, the camera angle straightening back to a traditional face-forward. “That’s us. You’ve talked and talked and talked about what you’re capable of to the others in your way and you’ve proven that you’re better against impromptu tag teams and a pair of braggadocious nobodies.” “But like we’ve said a few times before- ain’t nobody like us but us. We’re like nothing you’ve ever seen before or will again. There is no preparing for what’s ahead of you. Notethe Sakura Flower’s Wisdom- we live, we die, we live again. And we’ve crawled too far out of our own personal underworlds to be stopped by anyone. Try though. Try with all your might to shock us and leave us in fuckin’ awe, or you won’t stand a chance.” Mike sat back down along with her partner, poured them both another cup of amazake, and together, they tipped their cups toward the camera in a ‘salut’ gesture. “See you at Stranglemania.”

[the-angriestpineapple]

fanatic // bakugou x fem reader

Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, meets one of his biggest fans and gets roped into walking her home. He finds out just how big a fan she is. NOTES: So this was my first xreader fic. I wrote it basically for one of my partners @spacebunnywrites​ before he was one of my partners. It’s a rough dom Bakugou but there’s some aftercare I promise. Tags: all the holes, rough sex, toys, some embarrassment.  x male here x nonbi coming soon  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re on your way home from a coffee date with friends when you hear the first explosion. It’s coming from somewhere vaguely to your left, eyes immediately shifting in that direction in time to see some civilians fleeing onto your current street from an alley. Your heart stops in your chest, but not from fear. It can’t be… you think. He’s never in this district. But you need to check, and your legs are moving toward the gap in the buildings before you’re really thinking about it. Soon you’re running through the narrow passage, pulse quickening as the sound of the blasts grow closer. You’re almost there, you just need to see -

You skid to a stop at the alley mouth, eyes widening as a heated explosion rockets past you followed by a maniacally grinning blonde.

“Die!!”

Oh my god it’s him! Bakugou Katsuki, pro Hero Ground Zero, in the flesh. Your heart stops again as you watch him sail through the air, so elegant in movement despite his abrasive quirk and even more abrasive personality. Most of your friends fantasized about Midoriya Izuku – Deku – the shy green haired number one hero or Kirishima Eijirou – Red Riot – the sturdy number three hero and Ground Zero’s battle partner. But you? Your heart beats for the wild blonde with the crazy smile who constantly pushes the limits.

The battle was moving down the street. You had to get closer. Where all of the sane people were running away from the dueling villains and heroes you were running closer. This was the first time you had ever seen Ground Zero in person and would likely be the last – he was never in your district and you honestly didn’t know why he was now. That didn’t matter though, he was here and you’d watch him fight or die trying.

You at least had some sense of self-preservation, ducking behind sturdy objects so that you wouldn’t get hit with some flying shrapnel. You watch in awe as your favorite pro Hero uses his quirk to shoot through the air and slam into one of the villains, giving an appreciative sigh. Fuck, he is so hot. You’re so focused on watching the explosion hero in action that you don’t notice there is an additional fight right behind you, that Red Riot is sparring with a huge muscular villain. The red haired hero slams the guy into the wall, but your ears are ringing from being so close to Ground Zero’s detonations already that you don’t hear it. Then Ground Zero looks at you. Your eyes lock. Your heart stops. His mouth is moving, making words, and the look on his face goes from sheer confidence to panic.

The world around you starts moving again and you hear ‘hey, LOOK OUT!’ before something slams into your head and you fall to the ground, the world going dark.

“Is she okay?”

“Fuck if I know, shitty hair, but at least the bleeding stopped.”

You blink as you come to, surroundings hazy and out of focus. Your world is a swirl of greys with splashes of red, black, orange, and yellow. Part of you wonders if it’s sunrise before your vision clears and you’re looking up into the concerned face of Red Riot and the scowling face of Ground Zero.

Oh fuck.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? A medic team will be here shortly and we didn’t want to move you.” The sturdy hero has concern pouring out of his tone, his eyes flicking your face for any sign of pain.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ground Zero hisses out, his eyes narrowing further than they already were.

“Bakubro, don’t be like that! She’s a civilian, she probably got trapped! She WAS right in between our fights after all!” Red Riot frowns at the blonde who is still glaring daggers at you. “You gotta work on your image man, your publicist is gonna straight up kill you one day.”

“Fuck off, Kiri.” Your eyes are focused on Ground Zero, frowning at the anger that is radiating off of him. You knew he was like this but it’s different, feeling it directed at you instead of at villains or press. Both heroes look up as an ambulance squeals up, followed by police cars to apprehend the villains. Red Riot immediately pops up and waves an arm.

“Hey, she’s over here!” Ground Zero is still staring at you as Kirishima gets the attention of the paramedics. Red Riot returns quickly, flanked by two more people. “Hey, there are healers here to take care of you.”

One of the people holds out her hands, scanning over your horizontal body. “There appears to be no major damage, just a shallow gash to the back of the skull. It’s superficial, Nightingale can heal it without the need for stitches.” She steps back and her partner steps up next, placing a hand to the top of your head. You feel like warm water is rushing over your skull and the dull ache of pain recedes. Red Riot gives you a relieved smile.

“She’s all set.” The medic, Nightingale, steps back and goes with her partner back to the ambulance. You sit up, automatically steadied by Riot’s large hands.

“Careful, uh...”

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounds a little raspier than usual and you wince.

“(Y/N). It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kirishima, and this is Bakugou. Can we escort you home to make sure you make it okay?” Ground Zero’s eye daggers are now aimed at Red Riot and you hide a smile behind your hand.

“That would be great, actually.” You hope that you look calm on the outside because your heart is hammering WILDLY in your chest. Ground Zero walking you back to your apartment. Your mind races with all the ways that could end, except now he’s back to glaring daggers at you.

“Red Riot!” All three of you look up as a police officer comes over. “We need a report from you.” His eyes flick to Ground Zero, still crouched near your side, and a flash of fear shoots through them. “Ground Zero we don’t need both of you so you’re free to go.”

Ground Zero rolls his eyes and stands, the movement as graceful as a dancer. “Fine, I have shit to do anyway.” “Yeah, like walking this one home.” Red Riot stared at his friend, Ground Zero glaring back, before the blonde hero tossed his head back with a sigh.

“Fucking FINE. Whatever. Let’s go.” He yanks you up, ignoring Red Riot’s protests of being careful with you. You let out a squeal of protest on your own, attempting to pull your arm back out of his gloved hand. He’s strong though, so much stronger than you ever imagined.

“Wait, Ground Zero, Ground Zero STOP!” You yank hard on your arm, stumbling back when he lets you go and whips around to face you.

“What?!”

You huff, scowling back at him. “You’re going the wrong way.”

His eyes narrow. “Well you didn’t tell me where you fucking live.”

“I didn’t get a chance to! You just dragged me off like some kind of fucking animal!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ground Zero closes the distance between you two, his crimson eyes glaring into your (e/c) ones.

“I said… you dragged me off like some kind of animal.” He may be the object of all of your carnal lusts but you were not about to be rag-dolled through the city. At least, not in this manner. You don’t flinch as he glares at you, feeling a thrill of victory as he emits a growl.

“Fucking… fine. Come on then. Which way.” His voice is low, and you can hear the annoyance laced through it. You grin and head off in a different direction, looking behind you at the angry blonde planted in the sidewalk.

“Well come on, Red Riot will be pissed if you leave me alone.” You smirk as his scowl deepens. Since he more or less promised your safety to his partner that left you free to push his buttons. You weren’t very happy about being yanked like that but fuck you loved the aggression that the blonde exuded. Every scowl and squint was sending chills down your spine and you wanted to see if you could get him yelling at you before you got back to your apartment. Fuck, that would give you something to get off to for months.

“Fine.” You hear the stomping of boots following you and you can’t help the smirk pulling at your lips. This was fun. Your heart was still pounding in your chest being so close to him, talking to him, teasing him, but you liked to think that you were holding your own.

You annoyed him with chatter and banter for the whole ten minute walk to your small apartment, easily swapping between teasing him (there’s a hole in your uniform Ground Zero, are you getting slow?) and yammering about anything and everything happening around you. Ground Zero might think it was nerves, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong. Your nerves were alive like sparklers, bright and heated, but it was mostly the thrill of watching the storm cloud that darkened your favorite hero’s face as you walk.

You’re twirling as you go down the sidewalk, generally making a nuisance of yourself just to annoy Ground Zero further, when suddenly you’re overcome with a dizzy spell. You stop twirling and put a hand to your head, the world spinning around you as you start to fall. You hear loud boot stomps and then strong arms are wrapping around you, catching you before you hit the ground.

“Fuck, do you have no sense of self-preservation? Why would you do shit like that after you just had a head injury?” Ground Zero has you fixed with that same angry scowl and you smiled up at him. You felt almost drunk, and you reach out and ‘boop’ the hero’s nose. He snarls. “Which fucking apartment building is yours, you shitty fuck.” Your arm flops toward your building and he grumbles as he takes off to it, carrying you bridal-style in his arms.

Your head is lolling back and he’s cursing under his breath. “Fuck. Which apartment? Where are your keys?” Your hand slips into your pocket and vaguely fishes out your keys, promptly dropping them on the ground. Ground Zero curses again and crouches easily to pick them up. Your fuzzy brain has it together enough to be impressed that he’s able to squat and snatch your keys from the pavement like you weigh nothing. So strong. Swoon.

Ground Zero carries you easily up the stairs to the third floor. Luckily your apartment number is on a tag on your key so he easily finds it. You aren’t really paying attention as he unlocks your door and swings it open, stepping into your home. You feel him pause, his eyes sweeping the area. You live alone and your home is small, but it’s cozy and you love it. There’s a mass of pillows by the window in the main room and he decides that is the best place to lay you. You squirm on the pillows once you’re there, trying to make yourself comfortable, and he watches you with a scowl. He knows for a damn fact that if he leaves you before you’re coherent that Kirishima will have his hide, so he’s trapped here until you wake up. Great.

He might as well try to find your bathroom and some medication, you’re bound to have a headache when you wake up. There’s only one door off the space you’re both currently in so without hesitation he crosses to it and moves to open it. You open one eye in time to see Ground Zero’s hand wrap around the knob to your bedroom and you squeak out a weak protest, but the door opens. Ground Zero stands in the doorway, frozen.

“...What the fuck is this.”

Shit. Now you were in for it. You try to pull yourself up, fighting the dizziness in an attempt to defuse the situation. You knew exactly what he was looking at. Your bedroom was absolutely covered in Ground Zero merch, both official and unofficial. You rise and shakily make your way to him. “Ground Zero, ah, don’t…”

He whirls on you, his eyes narrow. “You weren’t trapped between our fights. You came specifically to watch me.” It’s not a question and your cheeks color as you nod. He inhales and turns from you, stepping into your bedroom and looking around at the amount of stuff. Posters, figurines, plush pillows that look like his grenade gauntlets. His eyes sweep your bed and pause at the elongated shape hidden under the blankets. Without asking for permission he rips back the black and orange comforter and you gasp as he reveals a body pillow of himself.

“Are you fucking kidding me, (Y/N)?” Luckily it’s on the tame side and not the lewd side. Then Ground Zero flips the pillow over. He looks at you with raised eyebrows. Your face colors and you turn your face from him, so you miss the cocky smirk that graces his lips for a split second.

“If you have this so brazenly in your bed, what the fuck else are you hiding in here?” You eke out another protest as he prowls around to the other side of your bed, zeroing in on a pair of doors. He opens the first, but it’s your small bathroom. The blonde hero shoots you a look and closes it, then grins as he opens the other one. “People always hide weird shit in their closets…” He rips the door open and instead of a quick look like he did in the bathroom he’s pulling your hanging clothes to the side, checking the floor, sweeping his hands on the shelf. He finds the thing you’re dreading quickly – a small box shoved in the corner of your highest shelf.  “Hmm. Looks suspicious.” He pops it open with a smirk that quickly vanishes, and you want to sink into the floor and die. You know exactly what’s in the box, and there’s a reason it’s hidden where it is.

Ground Zero holds up the bondage harness as you watch, mortified, his eyes sweeping the black and orange straps. "Is this... is this official merch? I'm going to kill my entire marketing team."

"No. I, um..." You swallow, averting your eyes as your cheeks flush. "I made it."

Ground Zero stares at you for a second, then a grin slowly curls up the corner of his mouth. "Yeah? You made it?"

You nod. "There's, um. There's matching arm binders that look like your gauntlets. And leg binders that look like your boots." You risk raising your eyes to look at him and you feel the breath knocked out of you at the hungry, feral look in his eyes.

"Put it on then, if you're so desperate for my cock. Fucking earn it." His grin widens as he throws the harness at you.

You catch it, acting more out of reflex than anything. “What?!”

He casually fishes out the arm and leg restraints, looking them over the way he looked at the harness. “You fucking heard me. If you want it, you have to work for it.” Crimson eyes flick to you. “Especially after the way you fucking teased me the whole walk here.”

Teased him? I mean yeah, you were a little sassy, but… your eyes widen in understanding. He likes the sass. That made you look at all his glares and glances in a new light, and… Your eyes flick to the heat in them now. Fuck were you in for it, and fuck were you all about it.

“I’m not going to say it again. Put. It. On.”

His voice is like steel and you drop the harness on your bed, hands going to your shirt. Fuck, was this really happening? Were you really going to do this? You hesitate as you toy with the hem of your shirt and Ground Zero uncrosses his arms, cupping his palms, and lets off a few warning sparks. Your heart leaps into your throat and you yank the shirt over your head, throwing it nearly across your room before yanking off your pants and kicking them after the shirt. You look at Ground Zero as you stand in your underwear, and he motions to the small garments. Your face heats up as you slowly slide those off too. At his raised brow you pick up the harness, carefully stepping into it.

“I uh, I can’t put this on by myself. It’s why I’ve never worn it before.” Your face flushes, the harness straps hanging from your frame. Ground Zero shifts his weight, moving like a cat stalking prey. He slowly walks around you, reaching out for the straps, and pulling them tightly into place.

“So I’m the only one to see you like this, hah?” His voice is low and rumbling, hot like raked coals. You shudder and nod. He pulls the strap he’s tying tighter and leans into your ear. “Good. It had better fucking stay that way.” The words spike directly to your core and you groan, immediately moving to slap a hand over your mouth. He just chuckles darkly and finishes tightening the straps, and you look down on yourself. The harness is very nice, if you do say so yourself. You can’t help but feel a little proud of your handiwork.

Then you notice Ground Zero holding the arm and leg binders and grinning.

You immediately start to shake your head but he just grins wider. “Ah ah, you made them, you must want to wear them.” You’re only semi-surprised at the skill and nimbleness that he exudes to get you locked into these binders, and you wonder if this is something he does regularly. Your arms are twisted behind your back and locked into place, and Ground Zero guides you down to the floor so he can use the leg binders to keep you in a kneeling position. It’s a good thing he has those huge knee pads on his hero outfit – they provide an excellent cushion from your hardwood floor. You’re glad you included them.

“There. And now that you’re all nice and tied up…” He walks to the front of you as he removes his gloves and reaches down, a calloused thumb teasing at your lower lip. You immediately open your mouth and he gives an approving rumble deep in his throat, using the pad of his thumb to stroke your eager tongue. You roll your eyes back in your head at the flavor – he tastes like rich caramel. The scent rises off of him now that his hands are so close to your face. You’re vaguely aware that it has something to do with his quirk, and that the nitroglycerin he sweats can be toxic, but you’re way too into him being in your mouth to care about that detail. He grasps your chin with his fingertips, holding your jaw in place from the inside. You give a small whine, closing your mouth to suck on his thumb.

“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” He pulls the thumb out and wipes your saliva on your cheek. “You know, that body pillow you got there? It’s fucking wrong.” He smirks a little, hooking the thumb that was in your mouth through a belt loop. “I bet you want to see the real thing, don’t you? You’re dying for it. I can see it in your eyes.” You whimper and nod, your eyes immediately going to the crotch of his pants. “Well too bad. I’m not done looking through your shit.” You let out a much louder whine as he turns away from you.

“Let’s see now. I’ve already checked the closet, how about this drawer?” He moves to your nightstand and yanks open a drawer, but all that’s in it are a few odds and ends. He gives you a scowl and slams it closed before pulling open the second one. That one yields much more fruitful results, and you feel like your face can’t get any hotter as Ground Zero lifts out a ball gag colored like a grenade and a blindfold in the shape of his mask. He gives you a very direct look before carefully laying the items on your bed, then dives back in. Next he comes out with a thin paddle made of wood with a slab of rubber on it, the rubber looking like a boot imprint. “What the fuck is this? It this…” He squints at the tread, then lifts his own boot and looks at it. “Is this my fucking boot print? How the fuck did you even get this?”

“Someone… after a fight in your district, someone made a casting of your boot print in the dirt. I uh, I bought it and cast the rubber to make a spanking paddle… with your boot tread on it.” You swallow a little. “I’m glad to know it’s authentic.” You give a tiny, nervous chuckle.

He stares at you for a second and then drops the paddle on the bed. “You filthy fucking bitch. You just want me to walk all over you.” But there’s definitely a vein of arousal in his voice, and when he turns you can see that the crotch of his pants are tighter than they were earlier. He shifts through the rest of the drawer, casually putting a bottle of lube on top of the night stand.

Without a word he gets on his knees and looks under your bed, pulling out another box. You’re so far beyond embarrassed at this point. The delicate lace of arousal in his words, the strain against his pants, you’re going to get fucked stupid by the hero you idolize. You wish desperately that your leg binders didn’t keep your thighs spread, robbing you of any friction you might have been able to produce for yourself. Your breath intakes sharply as Ground Zero returns up from the floor, holding a sizeable black and orange dildo. “Did you fuckin’ make this too?” He’s catching on that all of your sex toys are in his trademark black and orange.

You shake your head. “Commission,” you squeak out.

“Ah, you keep my dildo right under your bed, hah? Has to be in easy reach so you can stuff yourself as soon as you need to feel my cock in you?”

Your breath intakes harshly at the words. “Yes.”

He stares at you with hard eyes for a second. “…Fuck.” He stands, eyes drilling into you as he pulls off his boots. Next go his gauntlets, clattering to the floor. He rips off his top, and despite the fact that you’ve seen his naked chest countless times in either battle damaged costume or professional photo shoots you’re not prepared for the real thing standing in front of you. You make a hiccup-y gasp, and his grin goes feral.

“Be a good girl and don’t move.” He closes the distance between you and easily scoops you into his arms, placing you on the bed with your back facing him. He glances at the hardwood floor where you were originally sitting. “Tch. Haven’t even fucking touched you and you’re already making a fucking mess.” He gestures at the floor where a small pool of liquid betrays how turned on you already are. You feel a slight sliver of shame but it’s heavily outweighed by the sheer force of your arousal.

You watch as Ground Zero, now stripped of everything but pants and socks, moves behind you again. Hands reach out and caress your sides, softer than you thought the blonde was capable of. You moan, trying to arch your back in the tight bindings. You hear a chuckle behind you and then clothed hips are grinding into your ass, the feather soft finger tips now grabbing your waist hard enough to leave bruises. You cry out, pushing your ass back into the hips, and are rewarded with a soft groan as the cleft of your ass encompasses the hard dick in Ground Zero’s pants. Your eyes widen – he wasn’t kidding, your body pillow did him no justice.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? I didn’t say you could have that yet.” He smacks the round globe of your ass with his hand, then releases you. You pant in need, trying to push your hips back again, desperately trying to feel his length against your body again. He makes his ‘tch’ noise and you bite your lip. You can feel him move behind you, then his arm comes in to view and he’s grabbing the boot paddle. Your breath hitches in your throat as the wooden length slowly drags backwards across your messy bed. He’s going this slowly on purpose, you know it. He wants you to anticipate what’s coming.

You freeze as you feel the ridged rubbed slide across your ass. “You ever use this before?” Ground Zero is practically purring behind you.

“N-no.” Your breath leaves you in another shaky hiccup.

“Why the fuck not?” The boot tread continues to rub across your flesh as Ground Zero’s voice gets a little angry.

“No one was good enough b-but you.” The tread stops and you hear a breathy ‘fuck’ behind you before the blonde hero is pulling his arm back and snapping it forward again. The rubber tread of the boot slams into your cheek and you cry out. It didn’t hurt as badly as you expected – maybe it was the thickness of the boot. Either way it was definitely the perfect opening.

“T-that all you got, Ground Zero?” Your breath is coming out harsh but you make damn sure that he can hear the antagonistic tone in your voice.

You hear a growl behind you and the boot flies down again, this time you can feel the bite of the tread marks in your ass. You hope it is going to leave an imprint. “Hah, I t-thought you were strong, Ground Zero.”

You tense as you hear an aggressive snarl and feel a quick movement behind you. There is the sound of glass shattering, and you’re able to glance to your left and see the broken remains of your table lamp on the floor next to the paddle. You’re annoyed until you hear his quirk spark to life behind you, and your heart stops again.

“You’re such a fuckin’ brat, hah? Just gotta be fucking mouthy? Well if you like my quirk so much, let’s see how you can handle it.” The sparking sound intensifies, and you’re barely able to hold your breath before Ground Zero’s hand slaps against your cheek. Oh, oh. This is what you want, yes. The sting is enough to bring tears to your eyes and it radiates across your flesh like fire. You can’t hold back your moan, and you lean forward more to present your ass better. He gives you a matching slap on the other side.

“Not so fucking mouthy now, are you?” Twin slaps to both sides again. He keeps going, hands still ignited, more and more until you’re sobbing and he can see the outline of his handprint reddening your ass. “Fucking perfect.” He grins and places one more playful slap, your hips bucking in response.

Ground Zero moves to the front, grabbing your jaw in his hands roughly. “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation and he grabs the ball gag with his free hand. His crimson eyes look into your mouth for a few beats, and you take the chance to admire how handsome his face is. He is still wearing his mask, and there’s soft grey streaks from his battle on his neck and cheek. Then he leans forward a little and you wonder for a second if he is going to kiss you, but before you can close your mouth he spits into it and stuffs the ball gag in. “Good girl,” he purrs, tying the gag around your head. He smirks as he moves behind you again and you’re shivering, waiting to see what he’s going to do next.

The ball gag prevents your loud moan as your ass cheeks are separated and his tongue licks a long strip from your aching pussy to your asshole. He doesn’t speak, he just starts to circle his tongue around the rim of your ass, inching the fingers of his right hand closer while keeping your cheeks spread. You fall forward as he hikes your hips up, just able to turn your head to prevent your face from pressing directly into the mattress. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head as he fucks his tongue in and out of your hole, growling softly at the whimpers you’re making that are muffled by the gag shoved in your mouth. He stops suddenly, mouth and hands disappearing from your skin, and you let out a high pitched whine at the loss of contact.

Ground Zero laughs and reaches over to the bottle of lube he’d previously placed on your night stand. He positions himself behind you once more, popping open the cap of lube and pulling one of your cheeks to the side. He squirts the lube directly onto your hole, grinning as you shudder at how cold it is. The hand not holding your cheek circles your hole, teasing, not dipping in. It’s not until you push your hips back that he slips his finger into your hole, both of you groaning. He slowly works you open, watches your hole swallow his digit eagerly, his erection straining against the pants of his hero costume. You rock your hips back into him, your eagerness clear on your face as you pant around the ball gag. You choke out another muffled moan as he adds a second finger, hips rocking back harder. You need more, you need him to fill you. He lets a third finger slip it, scissoring all three to stretch the tight ring of muscle.

“Mm, yeah. Gotta stretch you open so you can take my cock, right?” You give a high pitched groan, unable to control yourself as the thought of taking his cock sends you over the edge. You ride through your orgasm on his fingers, eyes squeezed closed, and he stops moving them. “Did you already cum just from the thought of it? Damn, you really are desperate for my cock, aren’t you.” You can hear the ego in his voice and he removes his fingers. This is it. You’re going to get stuffed full of your favorite hero’s dick. You’re gonna get to cum on Ground Zero’s dick.

You feel the blunt head prodding at your entrance, but it feels strangely cold. You open your eyes and Ground Zero’s wearing a cocky grin, pants still zipped up, with the head of your dildo breaching you. You pout, or at least you pout as best as you can with your gag in your mouth, and the hero laughs. His grin is almost feral as he twists his wrist, watching your ass swallow the black and orange toy. Your pout doesn’t last long because the feeling of being stretched has you groaning again, pushing back against it, trying to take it further. He stops once the toy is bottomed out inside you.

You squirm against it, groaning as it rubs against your walls, watching the explosion hero as he slowly walks back around to the other side of your bed. He reaches down and unbuckles the gag, pulling it from your head. He pulls you up, positioning you so that you’re sitting on the dildo but pushes on your shoulders so that your head bows back down. Not quite all the way to the bed, but definitely level with his dick. “Stay,” he murmurs, and then reaches for the buckle of his pants. You hover there, eyes locked on the movements of his hands, your mouth already open and salivating. He moves slow, watching your face with an intense hunger. He pulls the pants off, sliding them down his muscular thighs, and kicking them off. His boxer briefs are straining to hold his erection and there is a damp spot where the head is, betraying how much your reactions are affecting him.

He palms his own cock through his underwear, smirking down at you. “Do you think you’ve earned this?” His voice is low, dark. Your nose is filled with the scent of caramel again and you nod. “Are you sure? I’m not.” His fingers slowly wrap around his shaft, pressing the outline out harder through his underwear. “Beg for it.”

“Please, Ground Zero, I need it, I need you, please just fuck me,” you immediately plead. Your body is squirming and you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue flat and looking up at him. He bites his lip and pulls his underwear down, his cock bobbing just out of reach of your mouth.

“Keep your mouth open.” His voice is a low rumble and he holds his dick by the base, rubbing the head across your tongue and lower lip, smearing his precum on your skin. He doesn’t quite taste like caramel, not like he smells, but he does taste sweet. You moan softly at the taste, fighting all your instincts to not close your mouth and take him in as far as he can go. “Fuck, good girl. Good girl.” He presses his cock in, slowly, until it reaches the back of your throat. “Close your mouth.”

You moan and do as your told, immediately curling your tongue around the shaft and sucking deep. He chokes out a moan and the sound sends a spike of arousal to your core, making you clench around the toy. He gently pumps his hips, sliding in and out for a few strokes. One hand caresses the top of your head and your heart flips at the tender treatment, but then he grins and tangles his hand roughly into your hair, snapping his hips harder. He starts to fuck your face in earnest, using his hand in your hair as an anchor to keep you in place. You start to take quick breaths in between his thrusts, trying to relax your throat so he can fuck into it. You’re rewarded by a loud moan the first time he does, his hips stuttering as he rocks back and forth in your throat. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, rubs your lips with it, and then shoves it right back in.

“Fuck yeah,” his motions are fluid and graceful, he fucks like he battles. He’s not giving you time to swallow as he snaps his hips in and out, and your saliva is pooling and running down your chin every time he pulls them back. He finally pulls out one last time, holding himself at the base and looking down at your messy face. Without looking Ground Zero reaches into the drawer and retrieves a line of packets. He rips one off the line and looks at it, then rolls his eyes back. “Okay, I know you didn’t make these.” You give him a shaky smile, still covered in your own drool, as he stares at the condom packet slogan. ‘BAKU BRAND: Reliable enough for your biggest explosions!’

He shrugs and rips open the condom, moving around to the back again. He rubs a hand over the print he left on your ass before lining himself up with your pussy. He lets his hands crackle with his quirk as he slams his hips in, and suddenly between Ground Zero and the dildo he left in, you feel unbelievably full. The hero immediately starts a brutal pace, shoving your face forward into the mattress with every thrust. You cry out with every thrust, and it only takes a handful before your pussy is clamping down around his cock again.

“Nngh, fuck, you’re so tight. That’s right, cum all over my cock.” His voice sounds harsh, like he’s losing control as he keeps pounding into you. His fingertips are digging into your hips again, definitely bruising, as he yanks you back into him. He slams back into you one last time with a hoarse shout, and you know he’s cumming. The thought that Ground Zero was cumming in you was enough to get you off one last time, your walls clamping a little weaker around him than the first two times. He holds there for a moment, holding you up as you sag on the bed. He slips out and you hear the snap of rubber as he removes the condom. His footsteps leave the room.

He’s back a moment later, pulling the toy from your stretched ass and undoing the bindings of the restraints. Your body sinks into your bed in exhaustion and you follow him with your eyes as he moves into your bathroom. You hear your bath water running and blink as Ground Zero steps back into your bedroom, then back out of it into the main area. He’s walking around like he owns the place and if you could move your body at all you’d say something about it.

He comes back again and lifts you into his arms, carrying you the same way he did into your apartment. “Here.” He holds a glass of water to your lips and tilts it. You look at him, confused, as you sip from the glass. “Good. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He carries you into your bathroom, carefully lowering you into the half filled bath. You hiss at the hot water and he immediately adjusts the temperature of the water filling the tub. He leaves the glass on the floor. “Keep drinking that. Don’t fucking drown.” He leaves the room again.

If you weren’t so utterly, deliciously sore you would wonder if you were dreaming. You’re only mildly aware that he comes back at one point to turn the water off before disappearing again like some kind of blonde ghost. The warmth is seeping into your bones and you’re feeling drowsy. You’re not sure how long you spend drifting in and out but you aren’t aware when Ground Zero comes back in.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and you open your eyes, blinking at him with a small smile. “Lean forward so I can wash your hair.” You lean forward as best as you can, assisted by the hero’s hands more than you actually do yourself. You’re able to hold yourself up by bracing your arms on the sides of the tub, and you hear the pop of a bottle as Ground Zero opens your shampoo. Then his hands and carding through your hair and you can’t help the small moan at how good it feels. He’s being so much more gentle than you thought he was capable of, especially after how rough he just was with you. He rinses your hair for you, then carefully washes your with your body soap.

Once he’s convinced you’re clean enough he pulls the drain on the tub, helping you to stand and wrapping you in a towel. You’re not so pathetic anymore and you’re able to walk, albeit shakily, back into your room without his assistance. “Get some pajamas. Don’t put them on yet.” Gentle or not his tone still leaves no room for disobedience, and you pull out a pair of boyshorts (Ground Zero ones, obviously) and a black tank top to leave on your bed. Ground Zero himself comes back out from your bathroom with the glass you didn’t finish and some aspirin. “Take this, and finish the fucking water like I already said to.”

You take the pills and sip on the water, watching him sleepily. He’s rifling through his pants pockets, still in his underwear, and pulls out a small green tube. “Alright, lay on your stomach.” He rolls his eyes at the look you give him. “No, not for sex, this is fucking aloe vera. If I don’t put it on your ass it’ll burn for a week.” He does give you a smirk at that, and you place the water on your nightstand so you can crawl onto your bed and lay on your back. His rough hands soothingly rub the aloe into your abused skin, and you can’t help drifting off to sleep again. There’s no sass left, only satisfaction. This time though, you don’t wake up when he’s done.

When you do wake up it’s almost the afternoon the following day. You’re dressed in the pajamas you picked out and tucked into your bed. You sit up, still feeling sore, and you can’t help but wonder if you imagining the whole of last night. It wouldn’t be the first time you had a dream like that, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Pity you didn’t wake up next to him, though. You ease out of bed and stretch, popping your back a little, before shuffling into the kitchen. On your counter top there’s an envelope. You tilt your head and slowly grab it, pulling it open. Inside is paper yen and a note. You pull the note out and open it.

“There’s food in the fridge. Make sure you fucking eat it. Cash is for the lamp I broke.”

You smile a little and skim further down the page. Your eyes widen at the phone number, but you about drop the paper at what’s scribbled underneath it. “For when you want to be a brat again. Maybe if you’re good, next time will be a creampie.

- GZ”