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victoria-daydreams · 2 years

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The Night We Met

Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole

AN: You know, I did not expect this to blow up like it did, but I’m glad you all enjoyed it. I might make a taglist for this story, if anyone is interested. Messing up my sleep schedule for work tomorrow, but I still regret nothing. Sorry if there’s any mistakes.

And @emastrangee at the time I only planned on four chapters, but if the mood takes me we’ll see where it goes. Once I’m able to actually the watch movie I might change my mind.

Word Count: 3.1k

Trigger Warnings: physical assault, mentions of rape & racism, smut (if you squint, I’m terrible writing that so mostly steam)

Chapter Two: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer

Winnie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror of the diner, she looked a complete mess. Of all the days to run out of foundation and concealer, it had to be this one. The bruise on her cheek had spread wider and bluer and the one around her neck too. It all happened so fast.

A dirty hand tightly gripping her throat. The sudden impact of a hard object hitting her on the side of her face, followed by a burst of pain which sent her sprawling to the ground. Her vision swam, going completely black for a second or two. She could hear someone rifling through her pockets and removed her wallet and phone.

“Useless," the robber grunted. “These bills are marked,”

The clatter of her phone hitting the pavement echoed in her ears, and then the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps.

Winnie laid there gasping for air, waiting for her vision to return so she could try and stand. She slowly rolled over onto her stomach and faintly saw the stream of rush-hour traffic. People were all hurrying down the street never thinking to look left or right as they passed the the alley. They wouldn't have cared anyway. What was one more mugging on the streets of Gotham anyways?

Turning on the sink faucet, Winnie cupped her hands together and splashed cold water onto her face, trying to calm himself down.

“Just one more hour and your shift is over,” she muttered, staring at her dripping face.

She shut the water off and dried her face, before leaving out of the bathroom.

Winnie kept her head low, hoping that the painstaking task of straightening her hair would cover her face enough for no one to notice. Just as she turned the corner back into the diner, her eyes instantly connected with Edward’s.

“Shit, when did he get here!” she thought.

Ever since that one night shift, Edward had gained a multitude of nicknames from the diner staff due to the fact that he always came back to the diner looking for her. There was: lover boy, lovesick puppy, Winnie’s stray, the weirdo, etc. He became a souce of teasing for Winnie.

"I have rarely seen you so engaged with a customer,” Lark began, washing a plate. “Normally, you only take their order and try not to get too invested in small talk. But that pathetic creature that sits at the far end, he’s the one that gets your attention?” Lark asked incredulously.

“Could it be that Winnie’s got a tiny crush on this guy?" Jane teased, passing by with an order.

“What? I can’t be nice without it being seen as an of act of me having a crush?” Winnie questioned, folding her arms together.

“Not to him, of all people,” Jane replied, letting out a laugh and Lark joined her.

“I bet he creamed himself when you looked at him for the first time,” he joked.

“No, he instantly got a hard on, when when smiled at him,” Jane chimed in.

“Guys!”

It wasn’t her fault that she was raised to be kind to others. In a city like Gotham, it wouldn’t hurt if others did the same.

And as much as she hated to admit it to them, Winnie was undoubtedly falling for Edward. It was obvious in her actions around him, sometimes slipping a slice of pumpkin pie in a to go box that was on the house. Or, the way she looked at him when they spoke.

The bashful smile that was on Edward’s lips disappeared, morphing into an horrified expression at her appearance.

“Winnie?” Edward whispered, as she walked past him and behind the counter.

“Hey Eddie,” she greeted, her smile wavering.

She grabbed a cloth and began wiping off sugar canisters. Trying to keep herself busy and avoid looking at Edward in the eyes.

“What happened to your face?” he asked, and out of the corner of her eye, Winnie could see his hand slowly ball up into a fist. “Who did this to you?” he asked again.

Exhaling heavily, Winnie placed the canister and cloth down, finally lifting her eyes to his. A quiet storm was raging behind the frames of his glasses.

“Attempted robbery, it happened a couple of days ago,” she answered, with a sigh. “I was walking home from work and I chose the worst day to walk down an alley,” she joked, but a smile never materialized on either of their faces.

“Did you get a good look at them?”

“No,” she breathed.

“Did you go to the police?” Edward questioned, pushing his glasses from the brim of his nose.

“Yes,” Winnie replied, making her way over to him to have a seat. “However, they proved to be rather useless as expected, not sure why I bothered,” she explained, sliding into the bar stool.

“Naturally,”

“You wanna know what those assholes said to me when I went to make my report?” she asked, and Edward nodded. “One cop asked, ‘Why was I walking alone so late?’ Another said, ‘What I was wearing?’ Oh, and the best one yet was, ‘What did I do to cause such a reaction? Did I talk back?’” she recalled, shaking her head.

Edward was still as a stone, apart from his hands. They were shaking with rage.

“Hey,” she called, covering her hand with his and the tremors ceased immediately. “It’s okay,” she comforted, unconsciously running her thumb back and forth. “You’re taking it more personal than I am,” she said, with a chuckle. “It could be worse, a lot worse,” Winnie stressed.

“They’re bastards for treating you that way,” Edward growled, eyes filled with fury. “How can you be so calm about all of this?” he asked in disbelief.

“One,” she began, sticking her thumb out. “It’s Gotham PD, they’ve always been terrible and will let you down,” she explained simply, before lifting her index finger. “Two, I’m a woman, so there apathetic attitude is not all that shocking considering how they treat rape victims,” she listed, before unfolding the next finger. “Three, I’m Black. Why would I ever rely on the police to do the right thing?” she finished, removing her hand from on top of his.

“That’s rather bleak coming from you,” Edward remarked, picking up his latte.

“Bleak, but you know it’s true,” she retorted, glancing down at the newspaper next to him. “I’d have better luck putting on a silly, little costume and finding out who did this to me than Gotham PD,” she commented, pointing at blown up picture of ‘The Batman’.

The mere mention of the caped vigilante made Edward’s body stiffen.

“Maybe Batman makes him nervous?” she thought.

Mentally, she shrugged it off and stood up from her seat, her feet landing on the floor with a light thud. She ran her hands down her uniform to straighten out any wrinkles, and pulled out her trusty notepad and pen.

“I gotta get back to work, I don’t think my boss would appreciate me sitting down for too long,” she stated, clicking the top of the pen. “Bruised or not,” she added.

“When does your shift end?”

“Soon,” Winnie answered. “Why? You trying to walk me home?” she asked curiously.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, causing her to quirk an eyebrow. “If…if you’ll allow me,” he added, the words tumbling from his mouth.

A laugh bubbled from Winnie, “So formal, Eddie,” she giggled, which seemed to relax him. “Of course you can,” she agreed.

~~~x~~~

It was a short distance from the diner to her home, on a good day it could be a twenty minute walk, a bad day could take up till an hour. Today was a good day, even though she was cold to the bone since the season of fall weather was present, making the journey feel longer. Winnie’s grip tightened around her coat over her more feeling a bit warmer, as they continued to the old classy, brick apartment.

“You know, I figured out the real reason why you wanted to walk me home,” Winnie said, looking over at Edward as they walked around another corner.

“And what do you think that is?”

She smiled, “You want to know where I live,” she answered simply.

He rose his hands in surrender, “You’ve caught me red handed,” he admitted, chucking a little but his smile never quite reached his eyes.

The two of them came to a stop at the entrance of her apartment building. A tall and narrow red brick building nestled in between buildings just like it. Graffiti and dirt covered the stone steps all the way up to the front door along with the that weeds grew out of control.

“Thanks for walking me home,” Winnie said.

“You’re welcome,” Edward replied. “I-I just didn’t want to see you get hurt again,” he explained, nervously adjusting his glasses.

“That’s very sweet of you Eddie,”

Suddenly, Winnie felt something wet drop on top her head, quickly followed by another. As quickly as the first drop had fallen, the rest came and in a blink of the eye it was pouring down. Without thinking, she grabbed Edward’s hand and pulled him into the safety of cover of underneath the awning. She looked up at the sky in disbelief, seeing not a cloud in the sky a minute or so before, to now where the clouds were quickly building up.

“The weather in this city can be so unpredictable,” Winnie joked, and he hummed in agreement. She turned her attention back to him. “You can stay here until the rain clears up,” she added, realizing she was still holding his hand for slightly longer than was necessary.

If Edward noticed, he said nothing about it.

“Winnie I can’t-“

“I’m not letting you walk in this weather Eddie,” she said, interrupting him mid-word. “Come on,” she urged, leading him inside the building.

Hand in hand, they climbed the three stories to her apartment in silence. Opening the door to her home, Winnie shrugged her coat off setting it up on the coat rack next to the door. Edward closed the door behind him, keeping his gaze focused on the room in front of him.

She toed her shoes off, “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Winnie commented, walking to her kitchen.

“No, I like it,” he disagreed, taking off his parka.

Her little apartment was cozy, simple and not to stuffy. Walls painted in a light gray, the carpet was thick and a soft green color that cushioned her feet. The two pieces in her apartment she considered her pride and joy was the fireplace and her record player along with the massive vinyl collection she had.

“Have a seat please,” she ushered. “Would you like some water or something a bit stronger?” she questioned, with a smirk.

“Just water, thank you,”

She grabbed two glasses from the dish tray and soon the muted sound of water streaming into a cup filled the kitchen. Carrying two glasses of water, Winnie headed over to the couch where Edward had taken a seat.

“You do ballet?” Edward asked curiously. “You’re a ballerina?” he asked again, holding up a program which she was on the cover of.

Adorned in full ballerina regalia, complete with even a floral, rhinestone headpiece in her hair; the chestnut skinned woman was frozen on the booklet in a graceful arabesque. Her expression the very definition of poise. Winnie sat down next to him, placing his cup onto the table.

“Yes, it’s apart of an after school program for kids and teens,” she explained, bringing the glass to her lips and took a long sip. “Though we are not nearly funded enough,” she commented, placing her cup down.

“Winnie, you look so…so beautiful,” Edward said, his finger lightly tracing over the picture, completely entranced.

Inexplicably, she felt a chill run through at the statement and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush,”

Edward chuckled in disbelief, “If you’re a ballerina, why are you stuck working in a diner?” he asked, shaking his head. “You should be dancing at the Gotham Metropolitan Ballet Theater,” he added.

“There are a myriad of reasons of why I’m not,” Winnie answered, carding her hand through her hair.

“And they are?”

“The main one being, it put a strain on my parent’s bank account,” she answered, tucking her leg underneath her and placing her arm on the back of the couch. “I’m amazed they were able to put me through all the way into high school,” she continued, a breathy chuckle leaving her.

“You didn’t audition for a college scholarship?”

“I did, actually,” Winnie corrected, a sad smile on her face. “I didn’t make the cut,” she said, with a shrug. “The judges said, ‘my technique was ‘lacking’ and ‘I didn’t quite meet the mold of a ballerina’,” she said, snorting softly.

“That’s ridiculous!“ he scoffed.

“It is, isn’t it?” she agreed. “I knew what the fuck they meant,” she stated. “My thighs were too thick, my chest was too busty, my hair was too kinky,” she listed, rolling her eyes. “They just dressed up it to appear neutral,” she said, a humorless chuckle leaving her.

A deafening silence swept over the room. Slowly, a frown formed on Winnie’s features as she ran her finger along her calf, starting to feel mournful for a promising career that would never come to fruition. Quickly, she glanced away from Edward eyes, feeling increasingly uncomfortable underneath their scrutiny. Wanting to move on with the conversation and get rid of the piercing stare, she turned to Edward with a wry grin.

“Anyways, that’s the past, no changing it now,” she stated, shrugging her shoulders. ‘Where one door closes, another opens,” she added, a tiny grin pulling at her lips.

“It’s their lost,” Edward remarked, his hand brushing against hers. “Those judges were too dimwitted to realize that they were staring at their next principal dancer,” he stated confidently.

Blood rushed to her cheeks and Winnie gave a lopsided smile.

“You know,” she began. “There’s a ballet show this Friday, I would like you to come,” Winnie said, before reaching over to the table, grabbing an envelope and pulling out a red raffle ticket. “It’s five dollars to enter into the raffle,” Winnie informed. “We’re trying to fundraise for the performance arts program since the Mayor has other priorities than us,” she joked.

“Men like him should be cleansed from this city, don’t you agree Winnie?”

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s enough bleach in the world to get rid of the stain of corruption in Gotham,” she quipped, causing him to smirk.

Edward reached into his pants pocket and took a leather wallet out. Smoothly, he plucked a ten dollar bill out and placed it in Winnie’s palm while also taking the ticket from her.

“Eddie, I don’t have any cha-“

He enclosed his large hand around her much smaller one.

“Keep it,” he urged.

“You are too kind,”

Winnie’s dark brown eyes shone brightly, briefly placing her hand on top of his before gently pulling hers away and placing the money into the envelope.

Winnie turned back around to face him and the first thing she saw was Edward's face surprisingly close to her own, fingertips poised at her cheek, barely brushing her skin. The sudden proximity briefly startled her, but she didn't move. She couldn't move. She didn't want to move. He reached out and let his fingers brush across her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Winnie’s breath involuntarily caught in her throat at the gesture. Still in a trance, his gaze fell to her full lips and ran the tip of his thumb over the soft skin.

“Edward,” Winnie whispered.

Instantly, he snapped out of his daze he had gone into, snatching his hand from her face.

"M-My apologies,” he stuttered, his face red as a tomato T-That was inconsiderate of me," he continued, scrambling to get up.

“Eddie, Eddie!” she called, as he clumsily got to his feet. “Wait!” she said, grasping his arm and pulling him back down onto the couch with strength she didn’t realized she possessed.

“Winnie-” he started, cutting himself off when she climbed onto his lap. “W-Wha-”

Her lips collided with his, silencing him mid-sentence. Winnie’s hand wound around his neck and into his hair, pulling him closer. She held him so tightly she could feel his heart beating wildly against hers. For a long, horrible, moment he simply sat there, stiff as a board. Just when she expected him to push her away in disgust, she felt him react to her kiss; leaning into her, hungry for her lips. Edward wrapped an arm around her waist, the other moving to the back of her head.

Winnie abruptly pulled back, her lungs burning for much needed oxygen. His face lingered near hers, his breath warm on her lips.

“I’ve been dreaming to do that,” he muttered,

“You have?” she replied, breathily. “For how long?”

“Since the day I met you,”

Edward tucked his face into her neck, planting open mouthed kisses up her neck along to her pulse point. Winnie’s eyes fluttered close and her lips parted to let out a heavy exhale, grinding against the tent forming in his pants. He groaned into her neck, panting softly against it. She slid her hand down his chest in between them, her handing landing on his belt buckle. Winnie moved her mouth to his ear.

"Show me what else you’ve been dreaming to do to me," she said huskily, her breath hot against his ear. "Please," she whispered.

Edward drew away from her and stared at her. Winnie held his gaze, watching as his pupils darkened until there was barely any green visible. She felt her body flush, heat beginning to pool between her thighs. He surged forward, closing the gap between them and eagerly devoured her lips. Their teeth bumping and his mouth parting to lick at her lips, before his tongue darted into her mouth to taste her.

Greedy hands began to fervently roam over the soft curves and hard lines on each other’s bodies, their appetites ravenous. Winnie moaned softly into his mouth at the sudden sensation of him squeezing her bottom. He explored her mouth further with his tongue before pulling it back out. However, Winnie was quick and she took his bottom lip between hers, causing a whimper to escape him. She reached down again, gripping him through his pants, his hips instantly thrusting back up into her palm.

“Is this better than your dreams?” she asked, her lips slipping from his.

“This surpasses it in every possible way,” he replied, his breath shaky and leaning forward to capture her mouth again. “And you feel so...mhm d-delightful,” he groaned out, the pace of his thrusts speeding up.

“Oh Eddie,” Winnie cooed. “If you think this delightful...” she trailed off, bringing her lips to his ear. “Just wait till get my bedroom,” she finished, dragging her tongue up the shell of his ear before nibbling on the lobe.

A loud moan ripped through Edward and Winnie’s hand suddenly felt wet, and also warm. She pulled back and looked down at his crotch, a dark stain was soaking his pants.The sight brought smirk to Winnie’s face, for the night was still young, and there was plenty of fun to be had.

Chapter Three: Beauty & the Beast

#the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nygma x oc #black!reader #woc!reader #black fanfiction #the batman fanfiction #edward nygma x reader #the riddler x oc #edward nashton x oc #dceu #dano!riddler

68 notes · View notes

pinkteapotwriting · 3 years

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Hi! I was wondering if you could do a wolfstar x reader. Where they find out the reader has a daddy kink, but she’s too shy to tell them? Also Remus and Sirius are a little older than her so she was worried that they’d assume she was only in a relationship with them due to the kink? I love your writing ♥️

Wolfstar x Fem!reader

Warning : Daddy kink, pet names, super sub fem reader, slight degradation, cream pie, male and female receiving. So yeah porn with no plot enjoy

Word count : 2365

I worked really hard on this and I hope you like it darling <3

---

You had always been attracted to older men. You were more likely to develop a crush on a professor rather than one of the boys in your class. It’s just how it has always been, and that’s why you were so happy with your relationship with Remus and Sirius. They were your dream partners, and although you were young, it felt like you had waited forever for people as kind, attentive, and uhhh dedicated to your pleasure. Everything about them just screamed dominance, perfectly suited to your daddy kink.

That’s why it was so frustrating you couldn’t get rid of that fear. That fear that you could scare them away. Of course they cared about you, but Remus was especially adamant that he would never want to hold you back. You adored them, loved them with all your heart. Everything with them was so incredibly satisfying, but to be able to go that extra step into submissiveness, for them to take control the way you desired them to, would make everything that much better. You didn’t want to risk losing them, and even if you didn’t, it’s hard being vulnerable in that way. Taking that first step would be hard, but you knew you would want the same from them. Even though this was somewhat embarrassing.

---

“Sirius you shouldn’t have, really you don’t have to spend money on me. What did you get anyway?”

“Don’t worry love, it’s more for my benefit than anything.”

“Remus, do you know what it is.”

“Apparently it will be better for me if I’m surprised just the same.”

Sirius handed you a small black bag, with pink tissue paper blocking the top, hindering you from peeking inside.

“Remus and I will meet you upstairs in the bed room, we’ll leave you to appreciate your gift.”

“Pads that’s weird.”

“Moony I promise you’ll appreciate it, trust me.”

They parted from you, Sirius with a peck to the cheek, and Remus with a lingering forehead kiss. Once you heard them trudge up the stairs of Sirius’s childhood home, you peaked into the bag and raised your eyebrows at the white lace hidden inside.

More for his benefit huh?

---

“Sirius, Remus, I’m ready. Can I come in now?”

They both sat leaning against the headboard. Remus’s right arm across Sirius’s shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair absentmindedly. Sirius was absolutely giddy, so giddy in fact Remus answered for him.

“Come on in Love.”

The floral lace bra supported you in all the best ways, two little pink bows adorned where the straps and the cups met. The white thong hugged your hips, complimenting your thighs and waist. It also had one small pink bow centered in the front of the waistband. Angelic is the way Remus would describe you, while Sirius would describe you as sexy as fuck. Not quite as eloquent, but it gets the job done.

“Siri, you didn’t have to but-”

“But?”

“I feel pretty.”

“You’re much more than pretty Y/N” Remus scolded.

“Does this mean you’ll let me spoil you more often, don’t mind having a sugar daddy so much huh?”

Your face immediately fell as you contemplated the effects his words had on you. Not that you needed him to spend money on you, but the idea of being good for him, of him spoiling his perfect Y/N, Daddy’s girl, had even more wetness pooling in between your legs. Sirius mistook it for concern though, not the combination of horniness and embarrassment that it was.

“Hey Y/N, I was just kidding, you know I love you right? You’re much more than this thing that we fuck. We want you safe, and we like getting you these things because it’s kind of fun spoiling you. I’d do it much more if you’d let me. And I’m sorry, I was just making a joke with the whole sugar daddy thing.

Remus zoned in on your thighs rubbing together at the word Daddy.

“Sirius wait, Y/N, is there something you’re not telling us?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Sirius joking about being a sugar daddy didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

He smirked as you rubbed your thighs together at the word daddy, pleased that his little test worked. Sirius seemed to be catching on too.

“You know Y/N, we’re not that much older than you. Didn’t cross my mind we’d fit into that category.

“I don’t understand Sirius.”

“You know perfectly well what I mean. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on and maybe it’ll turn out the way you like.”

“Well…”

You could not make yourself look away from your hands; watching them fiddle around anxiously. Remus’s voice soothed you though.

“It’s alright sweetheart. We want you to feel safe and comfortable telling us anything.”

You took a deep breath.

“I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want you to think that I was in the relationship for this reason. I love you both so much and would hate to make you guys feel insecure about it. I kind of have a Daddy kink.”

Remus kept his poker face, but if you looked close enough there was a hint of a smirk there. Sirius had the biggest shit eating grin there ever was, because he knew he was going to be having the best sex of his life tonight.

Their silence terrified you.

“I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t of said anyth-”

Remus held up a hand to halt your apology, then patted his thigh.

“Why don’t you come sit on Daddy’s lap, angel?”

A shot of pleasure went straight from your spine directly to your aching cunt. You didn’t even know how to respond. So you figured it was best to obey. You crawled up from the end of the bed and straddled his right thigh, the one that was closest to Sirius. Sirius reached for the waistband of your panties and tugged upwards so they could rubbed deliciously across your clit. Remus had to grip your hips and stop you from grinding.

“You know moony, I bought these because she’s supposed to be our innocent little Y/N. Had no idea she was so dirty. Kind of ironic isn’t it.”

“Oh totally and completely ironic. She may not be a pure as we thought, but she’s still a good girl. Isn’t that right Bunny? You like being a good girl for your Daddies.”

When you whimpered instead of answering Remus tightened his grip on your hips and started helping you grind up and down his thigh. Sirius smacked your ass, which had you jolt forward, colliding with Remus’s chest and burrowing your face in his neck.

“Answer his question pup.

“Yes, I like being good for my daddies.”

You whined when Remus halted your movements once again. He raised a questioning eyebrow which had you bite your tongue instantly. You had just said you wanted to be good for them.

“Aw, I think our desperate baby wants to cum moony.”

“Looks like it. Do you want Siri to eat you out bunny? You want your daddy to make you cum?”

You turned to look at Sirius’s smug expression.

“Yes please, want it so bad.”

“We can tell.”

Sirius’s comment had your expression turning bashful again. He gripped your jaw between his thumb and forefingers before you could turn away though.

“That doesn’t mean hide it. I like it when you’re openly needy for us. Makes me want to fuck you hard and satiate every little desire of yours. Now climb off Remus’s lap puppy. Gonna make you cum on my face.”

You were almost disappointed when he let go of your face, until you remembered what he was about to do. You all too happily turned around and wiggled in as you sat between Remus’s thighs.

“Not like that pup, ass up for me okay? I think it’s only fair if you take care of Remus while I take care of you. Understand?”

“Yes Daddy.” you hesitated for a moment, confused by Remus still fully clothed. You wanted to see him. You traced the top of his pants lightly with your forefinger.

“Daddy can I take these off?”

“Please do.”

He pulled off his shirt as you undid his belt buckle and he watched you kiss below his belly button, and lower and lower as you pulled his pants off. Once you had them halfway off Sirius pulled them the rest of the way. You rubbed his prominent bulge through and nuzzled your cheek against his thigh before pressing a kiss against his clothed dick. He laced his fingers through your hair and you would have leaned into the touch, but instead he pulled your head to make eye contact with him.

“No teasing puppy, get right down to it.”

“Sorry daddy.”

“It’s okay love.”

You pulled his cock out from his underwear and were thoroughly impressed by how hard it was considering you barely touched him. You spat onto your hand and jerked his cock for a few strokes, but not wanting to get reprimanded for teasing you licked from the base to the tip then let the head of his cock slip past your lips. That’s when Sirius quickly discarded your panties and slid underneath your parted legs.

“So wet baby, is this all just from calling us Daddy hmm? Should have told us sooner.”

You continued to bob up and down on Remus’s cock, wanting to earn his satisfaction. Sirius licked a bold stripe across your pussy.

“Such a good girl, fuck.”

Then he properly dove in, flicking his tongue against your clit and teasing your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, thinks she likes that pads. You like it when Daddy eats you out?”

You let out a muffled mm hmm against his cock, the vibrations had him throwing his head back and groaning. Sirius didn’t want to waste time talking though, his mouth and now his fingers were occupied, thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt. Bringing you that much closer to your release, while you brought Remus to his.

“Fuck bunny, m’gonna come down your pretty little throat shit-”

He was now prodding the back of your throat, and you were completely relaxed and taking him like a champ. You felt him twitch so you pulled off just a little bit as his seed painted the inside of your mouth. He stared with lust blown eyes as you showed him your now clean tongue. He cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb.

“So good for me baby, such a good girl. You wanna ride Sirius? I think you’re ready now.”

Sirius placed one last gentle kiss to your clit before parting from you and allowing you to shimmy down and straddle his lap.

“Sorry pup, know that feels good but I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

“S’okay daddy, whatever you want.”

“Mmm, that’s right baby. Why don’t you put it in now and bounce like a good bunny? You wanna be a good bunny?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Wait.” Remus interjected.

He gripped your wrist before you could grab his dick.

“What?” Sirius sounded quite annoyed.

“Make her say it. I wanna hear her say it.”

“Well bunny, hop to it.”

Remus rolled his eyes at the pun but quickly fixed his eyes back on to you.

“Wanna, Wanna bounce on your cock daddy.”

“Like a what?”

You put your head down in embarrassment.

“Like a good bunny.”

Sirius gripped his cock, placed the tip in your entrance, and slammed up in one foul swoop. You clasped your hand over your mouth, maybe to keep some of the breath in your lungs or maybe because you didn’t want to moan so loud. You really weren’t sure. All you knew was that Sirius was going absolutely feral.

Remus moved behind you and unclasped your bra, finally freeing your boobs from their constraints. He grasped one with his left hand, while the other reached down to rub your clit.

“D-daddy, gonna cum. Can I cum?”

Remus rubbed your clit faster.

“Ask Siri love.”

“Sir, can I cum please.”

“No, Hold it.”

“But da-”

“Hold it.”

Remus was now kissing the expanse of your neck and shoulders, while rolling your nipple between his two fingers. Tears were rolling down your face at the effort it took in holding back your orgasm. All while Sirius was keeping a brutal steady pace from underneath.

“Daddy Please.”

“Go on them cum. Make a mess on my cock.”

You swear you lost your vision for a second. All the sensitivity, all of the built up pleasure finally erupted all at once and if Remus wasn’t holding you you would have collapsed.

“Atta girl- Fuck”

You hissed in overstimulation as you felt his warmth spread and drip out of your cunt. Remus finally did let you collapse once Sirius had pulled out.

“Alright love, lets get cleaned up.”

“I don’t think I can walk quite yet Remus.”

Sirius only smiled with a smugness that made Draco Malfoy look humble.

That stupid grin could always get you in trouble.

Especially now that he knows you have a daddy kink.

---

Bonus

The warm bath water soothed your aching muscles almost as much as Sirius scrubbing shampoo into your scalp did.

“Y/N..”

You peaked one eye open at the lanky man in front of you.

“Yes Remus?”

“So obviously Sirius and I have a daddy kink too. The funny thing is we didn’t want to tell you because we didn’t want you to think we were dating you for your age.”

“That is funny, wish one of us would of said something sooner.”

Sirius pecked your cheek.

“Me too love.”

“Besides, you two couldn’t get rid of me that easy. I kind of love you.”

“Only kind of?” Remus teased.

“Kind of love you sounded better than completely obsessed.”

“Well then,” Remus cupped both your cheeks “I kind of love you too.”

“Me too.” Sirius promised.

The words were casual, but the tone was so intense. It reassured you that they wouldn’t be so easily scared off either.

And there were some things you had much more confidence to tell them now.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @accioweaslcy @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @side-blog-shit @agalandhermarvelobsession

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #wolfstar x reader #poly wolfstar #wolfstar #wolfstar smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #fanfiction #smut

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jellycatstuffies · 9 months

Note

hi!!! sorry if this may be an odd ask haha, but i currently own a milo shiba inu jelly cat and i think out of all the ones i own [little pup, bashful dragon, and bashful cream and black puppy] i think it's my favorite fur texture wise and i was curious on there might be similar ones that might be akin to my little milo?

again sorry if this might be weirdly specific- i just was a little curious on if there might be other jellycats that are similar to them!

Since Milo Shiba Inu has the same fur texture as the rest of the "Beautifully Scrumptious" Jellycat line, you will find many Jellycats with exactly that lovely texture!

I specifically suggest Perry Polar Bear and Harry Panda Cub for you to try! If you can still find a Woody Bear, he's great too!

Milo Shiba Inu (retired 2021)

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

waking up in vegas - jjk | m

get up and shake the glitter off your clothes, now. that's what you get for waking up in Vegas - waking up in vegas, katy perry

↳ summary- you know what they say. what happens in vegas, stays in vegas. but, what happens when you accidentally marry your brother’s best friend?

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- jeon jungkook x reader

↳ word count- 3.1k

↳ genre- fluff, smut, pwp with feels

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart friends), cream pies, light dirty talk, jungkook being cute af, slight nipple play

↳ a/n- well. i can’t tell you why i decided to write this, but i did. and it’s cute? i hope you enjoy this! thanks to @taetaewonderland @kookiesjoonies for reading it over and for @ladyartemesia and @xjoonchildx for being the best hype team a lady could ask for. i love uuuU!!!! feel free to hmu if you’d like!

It’s a splitting headache that wakes you up from your near comatose sleep.

Your eyes blink open and you groan when a sliver of light bores into your vision. The curtains are closed but there’s just enough of a crack that the sunlight seeps in directly onto your face.

You roll over in the expansive hotel bed and hold a pillow to your face as you groan out loud.

What happened last night?

All you remember is being with the guys, celebrating your brother Namjoon’s upcoming nuptials by bar-hopping your way down the main strip of Las Vegas.

It all gets pretty blurry from there.

You know you’re in a hotel room and you hope it’s yours. You can’t remember if you made it back to your own room or if you found someone to share the night with. There had been that cute guy at the first bar who bought you a drink. Maybe you’d gone home with him.

You chance a look at the bed and see a human-sized lump next to you, a tiny bit of black hair sticking out.

The black hair was nondescript, and you had no idea who it could be. There surely were a thousand men in the greater Las Vegas area alone with black hair. It could be anyone.

Looking around the room, you notice the decor is like that of your own hotel. But the layout of the room is different. You bite your lip as you notice you’re completely naked as well. You’re in a stranger’s room and nude. Well, at least you’re in the right hotel.

You’re desperate to know who the mystery person under the blankets is, but a war rages within you—should you grab whatever clothes you can find and book it before they wake up? What if your beer goggles were a little too foggy last night? How would you feel if you woke up next to someone 20 years older than you? Or god forbid, younger than you?

A groan comes from the blankets beside you and you panic. You quickly lay back down in bed and pretend to sleep, back turned to the stranger beside you.

“Fuuuuuck,” the voice grumbles as they emerge from the white cotton bunker they huddled under.

Your pulse froze in your veins.

That voice. It was so familiar. It couldn’t be.

You peek an eye out and see the back of a head, unruly black hair sticking out in different directions. The man smacks his lips as he adjusts his eyes to the low light of the bedroom, before he turns and looks in your direction.

You nearly gasp in horror.

Jeon Jungkook stares at you with a dopey grin on his face. He’s shirtless, and you hate how your eyes can’t stop staring at the way his muscles ripple down his back. Even in times of crisis you’re still achingly attracted to him.

Jeon Jungkook is your brother Namjoon’s best friend, soon-to-be best man at his wedding, and your decades long secret crush.

The fact that you’re waking up naked in his bed is equal parts distressing as it is titillating.

“Oh!” He looks startled. “What are you doing here?”

You’ve pulled the sheets up to your chin, covering any inch of exposed skin.

“Uh, I don’t know,” you whisper as you swallow hard. “I was hoping you would know.”

Jungkook sits and squints his eyes, as if he’s trying to directly visualize into the past.

“Did we end up drinking in here last night after we went out?” He asks as he rubs at his messy hair.

He drops his left hand to the bed, then freezes, eyes locked on his fingers.

“Oh, my god.”

You sit up, worried he’s recalled something that you don’t.

He spins his head to look at yours and notices your bare shoulders. His eyes widen and he grabs your arm, reaching for your left hand anxiously.

Before you can open your mouth to question his movements, your eyes follow where his eyesight lands.

A gorgeous, sparkling wedding ring sits on your delicate finger, sparkling in the single strip of sunlight beaming through the windows.

Your throat goes dry. Jungkook lifts his own hand and presents a silver band on his ring finger and you nearly faint.

You’re married.

To Jeon Jungkook.

You got drunkenly married to your childhood crush and your brother’s best friend.

“Namjoon is going to kill me,” he groans. He dramatically falls back onto the pillows and covers his face in shame.

You bite your lip carefully and study the ring on your hand. It’s stunning. It’s the size and shape you’ve always dreamed of having. You can’t help but note the irony of it all. Your dream ring and your dream husband.

Jungkook turns his head to look at you, stares at the soft skin of your bare back.

“Oh, my god, we fucked.” He covers his face with his hands again, muffling his words. You’re grateful that he can’t see your face—can’t see the way your cheeks are flaring bright red.

“I had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for years and I don’t even remember if I did well or not,” he cries.

Your own head whips to where the boy lies prone on the bed, groaning his sorrows into his palms.

Did Jungkook just admit out loud that he’s been in love with you? Were you hearing that right? You nearly pinch yourself to check and make sure you’re not dreaming. There’s no way. Was there?

“What did you just say?” You question.

He peeks at you through his fingers covering his face, a bashful look on his face.

“Was I good? Did I make you cum? God, please don’t tell me I finished too quickly.”

You shake your head and scoot closer, desperate for confirmation of what he just said.

“Not that, you idiot. I don’t remember either. What did you say before that?”

Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink and you hold back any cooing that’s desperate to claw out of your throat at the sight.

“I uhh,” he stumbles. “I sort of may be a little… into you. Like, a lot.”

He hides his face again with his hands, but his grin gives him away. He’s bashful, and you want to push him off the bed as much as you want to kiss him.

“You fucking asshole!” You laugh as you shove at his arm. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was 6! Ever since Namjoon crushed my Barbie dream house and you helped me fix it.”

He pulls his hands off his face and slaps them down on the bed, eyes wide with surprise.

“Really?!” He asks.

“Yes, you idiot,” you sigh. “Why else would I drunkenly agree to marry you?”

Jungkook sits up and smiles, like a puppy. His arms wrap around you and he pulls you in for a hug. It’s tight, and innocent and you can tell he’s still beaming from ear to ear. It makes you smile as you wrap your arms around his middle and return the enthusiasm.

He pulls back and holds you away from his body with his hands on your shoulders. His eyes are lit and he looks like a kid on Christmas.

“We’re married!” He exclaims.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yes, we are. A little non-traditional but, it worked out in our favor.”

Jungkook slides his hand down to hold your left, bringing it to his lips and kissing the diamond-studded finger gently.

He lets your hands drop, and he smiles at you, silence shrouding the two of you on the king-sized bed. He seems to be taken, deep in pleasant thoughts.

“Wait!” He jerks back to reality. “We fucked. But you don’t remember it, and I don’t remember it.”

You bite your lip, suddenly shy. “Yes?”

“So we can’t even truthfully say we’ve consummated the marriage.” He looks at you as if he expects you to follow his train of thought.

“Kook, I’m hungover. Can you just… spill it?”

He sighs dramatically, but the grin remains.

“Lets fuck? It is our honeymoon, after all.” He winks as he crawls towards you.

The sheet has fallen off his lower body now and your eyes widen at the sight. He’s hard and impressively thick. He’s shameless too, knows you’re staring and doesn’t move to hide it. In fact, he appears to make it more on display as he hovers over you.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he sighs as he approaches you, comes face to face above you.

Jungkook is no longer the silly, playful puppy dog you know and love. His eyes are dark and blown wide, breath heavy and confident. He oozes a raw sensuality that has you squeezing your thighs tight.

“I’ve always wondered what you’d look like underneath me with those big, beautiful eyes of yours,” he breathes as he leans down to pepper your collar with kisses.

“Will you let me make you feel good? Give you a honeymoon you’ll never forget?” He asks, fingers playing with the sheet but never straying further. He’s waiting for you, waiting for your consent or denial.

“Please,” you gasp as his fingers tickle the skin of your decolletage. “I want you.”

Your acceptance is all he needs to hear before he’s pulling down the stark white sheet from your chest and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips as he stares at you, and your body warms under his gaze.

“Fuck, you really looked like this under your clothes? All this time?” He asks, his voice turning needy and whiny. “No wonder Namjoon kept you under lock and key.”

You huff lightly. “Can we not talk about my brother during sex?”

Jungkook chuckles and nods, before bringing a finger up to pinch and tug at a nipple. It makes you both moan, and the bud hardens beneath his touch.

“Fuck,” he repeats. He seems to be stuck on a constant loop of surprise. He seems just as dazed as you—unsure if this is real but unwilling to wake up if it’s not.

His cock hardens even more—you can feel it through the cotton sheet on your thighs and you’re desperate to touch him. As he lowers his mouth to suck your nipple into his mouth, you push the remaining bits of sheets and mused blankets off your body and reach for his cock with a groan.

Jungkook inhales sharply around your nipple as he feels your warm hand grip him. It makes his cock twitch in your grasp and he sucks harder to compensate.

Your back arches with the force of his suction, and your hand strokes his length languidly. He nearly whines onto your breast, before he pops off and lifts his head—eyes closed and mouth dropped open in bliss.

“S-shit, your hand feels so fucking good,” he whispers through gritted teeth.

“Imagine how my pussy will feel,” you counter.

Jungkook drops his head onto your breast at your words.

“You’re gonna kill me with that dirty mouth.”

“That’s the plan.” Your hands tug at his black locks until his lips meet yours, meshing them in a deep and passionate kiss.

His hand slides down between your legs, slithers to your heat where he presses two fingers inside you and groans at the wetness there. It makes you gasp and whimper into his mouth as he fucks your relentlessly with his fingers.

“Dirty little girl,” he whispers as he bites your lip and tugs. “Can’t believe you’re mine. This pussy is all mine, now.”

You nod quickly and desperately as your legs fall open even more. The wetness of your channel is squelching around his fingers and Jungkook’s groans muddle with your own in the expansive room. His fingers scissor you open and you’re keening at the stretch.

“Gotta get this tight cunt ready for my cock,” he breathes as he sucks a spot on your neck. You’re sure it’s gonna leave a dark mark, and you thrill at the idea. You want the world to see you’re his—you’re finally his.

“P-Please,” you beg as you feel your body coming closer to the breaking point.

Jungkook growls as he pulls his hand from inside you and shakes his head.

“I want you to cum on my cock.” He lines himself up and rubs the head of his cock up and down the slit.

“You okay without a condom?” He asks, waiting with the bulbous head still catching the slick of your pussy, not quite pushed in fully. “I’m clean.”

You’re whimpering—the feeling of his thickness so close to being inside of you has your mind nearly empty. You nod your consent.

“I’m good too. On the pill.”

It’s all the boy needs to finally push his length into you. His head throws back in bliss as he feels your tight walls accept him. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper, pulling him in to the hilt.

“A-ah,” he gasps. “You feel so fucking good.” His hands grip your hips as he stills himself for a moment—allows himself a minute to catch his breath and beg his body not to cum too quickly.

“So big,” you whine. “Fuck, Jungkook, baby…”

There’s nothing else to say, no ability to speak as he pulls his length out slowly and slams it back in, knocking all the air in your lungs with it.

“You’re finally all mine,” he grits as he thrusts in and out of you again, as deep as he can. “My fuckin’ dream girl, all mine.”

He finally opens his eyes and watches as your cunt takes each thrust, watches your tits bounce in time with his pistoning hips. He can’t help but travel up to your face, where your mouth opens in silent rapture and you focus your eyes on him—like he’s the only man in the universe. Jungkook has never felt more powerful, more loved. The girl he’s only ever pined over is finally here, finally beneath him, wearing his ring. While he doesn’t remember how it started, he’s sure as hell he will remember how it continues.

You squeak out moans with each harsh thrust, reveling in the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and drags against your walls. Feeling him bare—rubbing and hitting each spot that has you gasping for air and seeing new colors, is sending you closer and closer to a screaming finish.

Your hands hold his powerful arms, grip the muscles of his biceps you’ve spent years drooling over. You can’t comprehend that he’s yours now, all yours to touch and feel and fuck. And love. You finally can shower the man with all the love you’ve cultivated for him, and you plan to start now.

“L-love you, Jungkook, fuck! I love you,” You gasp.

His rhythm stutters as he registers your words, and he feels his stomach tighten—your admission bringing him even closer to his climax. His hands grip your hips tighter, knowing he’s sure to leave bruises there.

“G-god, baby,” he grunts as he thrusts into you harder, faster. The sounds of your cunt are music to his ears, the slick juices squelching around his cock. “I’ve always loved you.”

He removes a hand from your hip and rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb, eyes now firmly locked with yours. Your legs fly up to rest on his shoulders and the new position has him hitting you even deeper.

“Cum with me, baby,” he begs as his thumb circles your clit harder, applies more direct pressure. “Wanna see my pretty wife cum on my cock.”

Your spine tingles as it builds and you’re gaping for breath as your orgasm slams into you like a freight train. Your entire body is alight with licking flames and electric shock. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his cock, gripping so tight that Jungkook lasts only a few more thrusts before he’s cumming hard inside you.

Jungkook gasps your name as his cock spills his load inside you, emptying himself completely. Your walls are coaxing him, stroking and encouraging him to spill so deep, as if it can’t get enough of him.

You take nearly a full few minutes before your vision returns to normal and your breathing settles down from the heavy breathing. Your legs are still on Jungkook’s shoulders and his cock still rests deep inside you, softening gently.

“Holy shit,” you whisper with a long exhale.

Jungkook nods and lets out a chuckle. He eases his cock out of you, sighing with pride at the way his thick cum slides out of you with it. He can’t believe that this is him, and that is you. That his cum is what’s decorating the inside of your walls, that he gets to be the one to do it—always.

Jungkook lies beside you and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to kiss him sweetly.

“I know we sort of skipped the whole dating part and went right to marriage,” he says sheepishly. “But, I was hoping you’d let me take you to dinner sometime?”

You can’t help but cup his cute cheeks and kiss him again—your heart feels as if it might burst.

He pulls you close, wraps his hands around you to pull you on top of him. His cock is jerking with the need to go again, to be buried inside you once more.

You smile as you straddle him, lining his cock up with your soaked heat before sitting fully and allowing him to enter until he’s completely enveloped. You gasp out his name at the feeling—oversensitive but still not yet satisfied. You sit and marvel at how he feels inside you—you think you could let Jungkook be there forever, as if it’s where he’s meant to be.

A harsh knock pounds on the door, before the clicking noise of the lock moves and allows entrance to the intruder. Jungkook is quick to throw the sheets of your combined bodies, you still straddled and laying on top of him.

“Kook! Have you seen my fucking sister? Where the hell--,” your brother is cut off mid-sentence as he takes in the scene in front of him.

“Uh,” Jungkook blushes. “Hey, new brother-in-law.”

Namjoon quickly averts his eyes and backs away quickly.

“Jesus! Christ!” He complains as he moves out of the field of vision.

“You two get dressed now!” He demands from the hallway. “You have some explaining to do!”

You can’t help but giggle as Jungkook’s features turn stark white with fear. You press a kiss to his lips for reassurance.

“It’s okay, babe,” you whisper as you pat his cheeks.

“And what the fuck do you mean by brother-in-law!?” Namjoon shrieks. “Jeon Jungkook, I’ll fucking kill you!”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #ficswithluv #heartsforbts #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #jungkook bts #jeon jungkook

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lea-andres · 2 years

Note

Vavokilla has grabbed my attention and now I shall provide you with headcanons!

- It started with Vector and Vanilla having puppy love for one another, and grew when they spent a few days with the deadly six when kidnapped to being interested in Zavok.

- Eventually, the trio began to meet up in secret. They'd have picnics in a restricted part of the beach where no one can see them, adventure into different hobbies together, and that friendship became dating after months went by.

- Zavok was reluctant at first, after all he was the leader of the deadly six and technically a wanted criminal, but the other two somehow managed to persuade him to come for the first few times before he began to come on his own.

- Vanilla gives gifts in the form of food. Cookies, brownies, croissants, you name it and she'll bake it. But she also gifts hand–made jewelry on occasion, though bashful about showing it off to others.

- Vector adores both his S/Os and is vocal about it. If their relationship weren't a secret, he would've been bragging about them to his friends for hours on end or recounting some of his favorite dates that they took him on.

- The metal virus arc was a terrible time for Zavok when he found out that both Vanilla and Vector got infected, and that caused him to lash out at a certain platypus mobian. That's how the deadly six found out about them.

- The deadly six is actually supportive of their relationship ship because if Zavok even gave them the time of day, then they were pretty good in their book.

- Zeena and Zomom get along great with Vanilla, she offering to teach them how to cook food that could last for weeks, showing them modern music, ect.

- Zazz and surprisingly Zor instantly take a liking to Vector for some reason, and the crocodile sees a lot of his sons in the two.

- Master Zik is neutral about the two, friendly sure, but won't go further outside of that.

- It's Espio and Charmy that found out next; them walking in on a vavokilla date when it was about to end, and they freak out, thinking that Zavok had done something to them. But after it gets explained by Vector, the two just become confused (Charmy) and angry (Espio).

- After this, it becomes a little awkward whenever Zavok is at the crocodile's house – mostly because Espio keeps doing the 'im watching you' gesture towards him.

- Charmy doesn't actually mind the fact that his father is dating Zavok and Vanilla, he just enjoys playing harmless pranks whenever he can (maybe accompanied by Zazz).

- When Cream finally founds out, she just hums with thought and continues to do whatever she was doing before. It's not until later when the rabbit approaches them with a messy drawing of them, showing her appreciation for the two making her mom happier.

- Vector fears the day when team dark finds out about their relationship. You know why.

- A very fluffy ship.

- The wedding in a pretty far future takes place on some mountain with a very beautiful view, Vector and Zavok both awaiting Vanilla to walk down the isle in their newly tailored white suits and jet black bowties. She walks down the isle in a long while wedding dress with flower patterning at the end and her hands full of red roses wrapped up in a bouquet. That day ends with a trio of very happy newly weds.

🥺🥺🥺

I wasn't expecting this to be so stinking cute, but it is and I can't take it. 😭

#vector the crocodile #vanilla the rabbit #zavok the zeti #vavokilla

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piecksz · 4 years

Text

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container.

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen.

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her.

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process.

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

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