#especially mutuals from other sites I hope this helps

[woe-and-grow]

Hello new and returning folks!

I’m Alexia and I’ve run this blog for literally almost two decades. This is my space to just chill and reblog things that inspire me and are important to me, mostly video game stuff, art and media!

I also make art over at @alexiamohabir and run my own merch shop @woeandgrow so feel free to check those out and follow me there!

I also have an old Smash blog I’ve run with @volcanicdynamo for almost two decades as well over @supersmashbrospics

Enjoy!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Prove Your Worth to Me (Brat-tamer!CEO!Nanami x Bratty!Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.” 

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you apply for a sectorial job, but the interview process is a lot more intense than you bargained for. 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Dom!Nanami; sub!Reader; Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Dubcon; Coercion; Brat-taming; Mild BDSM; Bondage; Degradation & Praise; Semi-Clothed Sex; Deepthroating; Hair-Pulling; Spitting; Mutual Oral; Doggystyle Over the Desk; Nanami Talks on the Phone While He F*cks You; Edge Play; Namecalling; Unprotected Creampie; Facial; PLOT TWIST

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: This is how I'm coping. Rest in peace, Kento. You were the best man & the best baby daddy ever. Imma come & help you build that house on the beach -Jazz

********

You sit in the waiting room in the pristine office, your fingers clutching your bag to stop your hands from shaking. 

You're so nervous. Job interviews always seem to do damage to your nerves and confidence, even though you’ve done them many, many times before. 

‘This is no different,’ you think to yourself, practicing the mantra you’ve had in your head for a week preparing for this interview. ‘It’s just an interview. He’s just a person. You are confident, intelligent, and a boss ass bitch, whether you get this job or not.’ 

But fuck, you hope you get it. It’s a really good position: a secretarial/assistant position for Kento Nanami, the CEO of Nanami Enterprises which specializes in human resources, charitable work, and citywide issues. Mr. Nanami is well-known throughout Japan as an entrepreneur and a very generous man, rich in intelligence and skills as well as money.

Seriously, the man is loaded. He is in every magazine, including Forbes, and has traveled all across the world closing business deals. 

He is also extremely handsome. You’ve seen his face many times in the media with his sharp jaw, intense eyes, and neatly-cut blonde hair. You’ve heard he is taller in person (and bigger at that). You’ve seen him at press conferences and dinner parties, photographed in his expensive suits or even coming off of a private jet in his sunglasses, a permanent, stoic expression on his face. You’ve wondered many times what he looks like out of his designer clothes as any woman would to an attractive man. 

But now that you’re about to meet him, all of this hits you much differently. Now that you’re sitting here in his pristine waiting room with its coffee machines and packaged snacks for clients and hearing the buzz of work activity–phones ringing; heels clicking across the floor, etc.–makes your heart scatter in your chest. Your palms sweat so frequently that you have to wipe them off on your pencil skirt every five minutes. You don’t know if you can handle any of this. 

And you hate feeling this way. You know how good you are with job interviews. Every one you’ve sat for after applying, you’ve received. You take pride in the way you’re perceived, especially when it comes to appearance. Though your interview is at 10am today, you woke up at damn near the ass crack of dawn and primped yourself. You ironed your outfit, choosing a cream-colored blouse that you tucked into your pencil skirt, nylon stockings, and heels. You curled your hair. You spritzed on sweet-smelling perfume. You even planned your makeup look several days beforehand which has been executed well. 

You look good…but you don't feel good. How are you possibly supposed to nail this interview if you can’t even stop your hands from shaking? “Stop it,” you hiss to yourself, glad that you’re the only one in the waiting room. “You will get this job. You deserve this job.” 

And it sounds like a good job position. Like, one that any person would strive to possess in this materialistic world where capitalism rules the earth. You found it on Glassdoor and as soon as you read the description and qualifications (a college degree, certain skills, attitude, etc.), you applied.

As a secretary working here, you would be working closely with Nanami as his personal assistant to help him take care of his work and anything he doesn’t have a chance to get to, such as scheduling appointments and meetings for him, and attending them in some cases, making and taking calls, and other office and secretarial work. The pay is much better than your current job that you desperately want to leave.

You’re tired of working underneath an asshole who only cares about his money and could give less of a shit about his employees or their issues. 

Were you expecting Maki, one of Nanami’s assistants, to reach out to you? Definitely not. But here you are, sitting primped, polished, and positively terrified two weeks later after receiving that joyous email for an interview. You just hope you can hold onto your wits and– 

“Ms. L/N?” You startle at the sound of your last name and look up into the eyes of Maki from behind her glasses. She stands at the threshold of the waiting room in a black turtleneck and slacks that hug her toned frame. You can already tell she has every man in here simping for her. “Mr. Nanami is ready for you now,” she says. Though she doesn’t smile, her tone is warm. “I have to deliver something, so one of his other assistants will walk you to his office.” 

“T-Thank you,” you say, cringing slightly at your stutter. If Maki notices, she doesn’t act as if she does and doesn’t mention it. She leads you halfway across the hallway to introduce you to Mai, a shorter version of Maki with no glasses, short hair, and wearing a low-cut red blouse that probably would drive any guy crazy. “Gosh, you are gorgeous!” She gushes as soon as she sees you. “And your hair looks fabulous. You’d definitely turn heads here.” 

You smile bashfully while Maki rolls her eyes. “Can you please just take her to Nanami’s office for her interview?” she sighs. “You know he hates lateness.” She gives you a nod then, her eyes kind despite how intense they seem. “Good luck, Ms. L/N,” she says before heading off to do her work, her hips swaying in her slacks. 

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Mai giggles as she presses a button to one of the elevators next to you. “That’s my sister. She’s always that sweet and bubbly.” She gives you a wink. You giggle to yourself, deciding you like both of them and you wonder what the rest of the team here is like. 

Mai presses the elevator button to the upper floor and leads you inside the damning doors that automatically shut once you are both inside. Silence swells around the tiny box and you can hear your heart pumping madly in your head. You see Mai look at you out of your peripheral version. “Nervous?” she asks. You give her a sheepish smile. “Does it show?” you chuckle. 

“He really isn’t a tough guy,” Mai says, contrary to what you think. “He just likes everything to be perfect and detailed, right down to the T. Judging by your resume, I think you’re fit for the job!” She gives you a bright, comforting smile that is impossible to ignore or not feel. You thank her for the compliment, feeling somewhat better. One the elevator doors open on the floor, she walks you down the pristine hallway with marble walls and grey carpeting until you come to two oak double doors. 

Mai smiles at you despite you wanting to book it. “Right this way,” she says, motioning to the door. “This is his office right here.” She knocks for you three times, loud and clear. “Come in,” a deep, clear voice calls out. It sends shivers down your spine. Maki opens the door then and it’s like the gates of Hell opening for you. 

You are met with a gorgeous, spacious office that is fit for a CEO. On one side is a lounging space with a flat-screened TV, black leathered seats, and a bookcase filled with books of all genres and kinds. On the other is a kitchenette with all stainless steel appliances, including a fridge, freezer, microwave, dishwasher and dryer, and a mini bar where a bottle of scotch and a wine rack sit. In the middle sits a wide, polished, oak desk with a large glass window overlooking the city where a man sits behind his laptop and a mug of coffee. 

A very handsome man at that. His jaw is sharp, his face slim, not a stitch of facial hair anywhere on his face. His blonde hair is combed and styled perfectly almost if he purposely styled each strand. When he looks up, you’re taken aback by not only his looks but the aura he gives off. It is powerful and intimidating despite his calm and cool demeanor. It’s only intensified by the gray suit jacket he wears over a crisp blue button-up shirt that he’s paired with matching slacks, red bottom shoes, and a yellow, leopard-printed tie. You nearly giggle at the way the tie stands out against the rest of his outfit, giving him a hint of personality. 

When his green eyes meet yours from across the room, you feel all of the air in your body leave you. A current of electricity courses from your body to his, making the room feel tense despite the coolness of the office. He gives you a stoic expression as if he is irritated that he was interrupted. “Your 10 o’clock is here, sir!” Mai brightly announces. “For Y/N L/N?” 

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Ah, yes,” he replies. He stands from his desk, giving you a chance to see how tall he is. The man is nearly six foot! You swear that you nearly fall out right there. “My interview. Thank you, Mai, that will be all.” 

Mai respectfully bows before turning on her heel to face you. “Good luck,” she whispers with a wink before closing the door behind you. Then it’s just you and him. You stand near the door while Nanami comes around the front of the desk, still keeping that same cool, blank expression. You feel like a deer who is being sized up for dinner by a lion. “So you’re here,” he says. “And only two minutes late.” 

You feel embarrassment flood you, making you hot all over you. You know he’s testing you, trying to make you break right off the bat…but you won’t let him. You clear your throat and meet him halfway, putting your hand out for a shake. “Mr. Nanami,” you calmly say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I arrived here ten minutes early than my scheduled time, but one of your assistants had to leave me for work duties.” You give him a smile as the cherry on top. ‘See? I’m good.’

Nanami’s eyebrows raise slightly, obviously impressed by your quick-wittedness and ability to read the room. “Not bad,” he praises you. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. L/N.” His larger hand meets yours, giving you a chance to feel his calloused palm and thick fingers. You try to avoid thinking about them around your neck. “Please, have a seat.” 

He motions to the cushioned seats in front of you while he takes his seat behind his desk, shutting his laptop. "You’ll have to forgive me for my tartness. I had a no-show earlier for an 8 o’clock meeting and I’m not a man of those.” You nod understandably. “It’s okay,” you say. “I can understand that. I’ve never been a fan of no-shows either.” You cross your legs as you sit, folding your hands in your lap. 

“Are you referring to your current job as a research assistant?” he questions. The corner of his lips twitch at the look of shock you give him. You damn near forgot where you work at! “I did my studying for today. Your resume is very interesting.” Interesting. You don’t know whether to be happy with that statement or nervous. “Oh…thank you. I actually have it here with me as a copy.” 

You go into your bag where you retrieve a folder and several copies of your resume. You pass one to Nanami who barely cracks a smile at the fact that you are prepared. He must be trying to size you up, see if you’re fit for the position. You watch him read over the paper, his index finger dragging over each section.

“So you graduated with a 3.8 GPA with a Bachelor’s Degree in marketing and communications,” he points out. You nod, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Yes, originally, I was studying political science, but I changed my major during my sophomore year.” 

“May I ask why?” he asks, raising a curious eyebrow. You’re more than happy to give him an answer. “Politics can become too messy in my opinion, not to mention that the major was extremely competitive. I was also working as an intern at the time and on the–“ 

“Cheerleading team,” he finishes. “Yes, that’s listed here in your extra curriculum activities, but you left the team during your senior year, it appears.” He gives you a sharp look that is pushing you to give him an explanation. Your brain grasps for straws. “Um…senior year is a busy time for all students,” you quickly explain. “At the time, I was just trying to finish school so I could graduate on time, which I accomplished, fortunately.” 

Nanami only gives a “huh” at this which isn’t the response you are looking for. “Huh” as in “oh, that’s interesting” or “huh” as in “this bitch isn’t reliable and can’t handle shit when shit gives tough”? 

“Let’s talk about your current position.” He folds his big, calloused hands on top of his desk, on your resume. “It seems like a promising position. Why do you want to leave there and come work here?” 

You sit up straight, happy that you practiced for this exact question. “Well, I just believe it’s time for me to move onto something new; preferably onto a new company that has a diverse team and benefits for its employees. I believe that your company does so.” Nanami leans forward slightly, peering deep into the recesses of your soul behind his spectacles. “So what exactly do you think you can offer this company, Ms. L/N?” he asks. “Or more specifically, what can you offer me?” 

Your stomach drops. You didn’t practice for this question. “U-Um…I’m a quick learner,” you reply, forcing yourself to keep eye contact. “I’m not afraid to ask questions if I’m unsure, but I’m also not afraid to lean on myself for answers. I work well independently as well as in a team. I’m hardworking, determined, and detail-oriented. I’m also willing to do whatever work is necessary to succeed.” 

Nanami’s eyebrows raise once more. “Whatever work necessary?” he parrots, quiet interest in his tone. “Elaborate on that for me. What kind of work or things would you be willing to do in order to succeed at this company, Ms. L/N?” 

Your brain begins to jump from place to place, grabbing at whatever. “Staying longer hours,” you decide. “I know this is a 9-5 position, but if you ever needed me to stay longer to get a head start on work or complete something, I’d be willing to do so. I’m also good at creating Powerpoint presentations for meetings. A-And I’m well-organized.” Now you’re stuttering. Stumbling over your answers. You’re fucking up! He’s going to see your nervous and unconfident and put you on the chopping block! 

Nanami stares you down for a moment longer, making you feel like you’re on trial and he’s a judge, before leaning back in his seat. He places his hands in his lap, ever poised and sexy. “Hm,” he hums. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to stay longer hours, Ms. L/N, I will be honest with you: you’re not the first person who I’ve interviewed who gave me all of this jargon in hopes of getting the position and then didn’t deliver on any of their promises or skills.” 

You nervously gnaw on your bottom lip, gripping your hands to force them to stop shaking. “I’m sure you have,” you quietly reply, “but I’m also sure I can change your mind and prove that I’m worthy of this position, Mr. Nanami.” 

Something sparkles in Nanami’s forest-green eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Worthy?” he questions. “That’s a new one: worthy.” He tests it out on his tongue as if it’s a new kind of food. Something foreign to him. He leans towards you once more, placing his hands on the desk. “Well, let me ask you this: do you think that you’re confident enough to work beside me if you do happen to get this position? Because from what I’m seeing, you’re not.” 

You’re so busy thinking about how handsome he is that you nearly miss his criticism. But when you catch it, you feel cold like you were just dunked in a pool of ice. You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” you ask, squinting at him. 

Nanami barely reacts to your reaction. “You stutter a lot,” he bluntly points out. “Whether out of habit or because you’re nervous which shows the employer, which is me, that you’re not confident in your words or thoughts. Then it’s in your body language: your shoulders are up by your ears and obviously tense, your skin is flushed, and your hands are shaking.” 

And he’s right. You can feel how tense and hot you are; how shaky and unbalanced you feel. You feel like crawling under the chair you’re sitting in and hiding from his scrutiny. But you also won’t allow him to expose you like this. “Well, I would think that nervousness is a common human emotion,” you retort. 

He nods, giving you a point for your fairness. “It is…but judging by your resume, I’m sure you’ve sat through many job interviews, and got the jobs as I’m seeing here.” He takes his glasses off, revealing his naked eyes to you. “So what makes this one so different? Why are you so nervous to be here with me today?” 

You can tell he’s trying hard to make you crack. He’s trying to see if you’re able to handle the pressure. Though you feel nervous and embarrassed, you also feel incredibly pissed. How dare you try to grill you like this? You can’t let him win this. You won’t. “Mr. Nanami,” you carefully say, your tone calm yet firm, “I understand what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not really appreciating it. It seems like more of a grilling session than a job interview. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about the job?” 

Nanami barely even blinks. “We have,” he replies. “And now I’m trying to decide if you are seriously fit for such a position. I take my work very seriously, Ms. L/N, and I need to be sure that you will take my work, as well yours, seriously as well. I can’t have you cracking under pressure or second-guessing things. Those are all signs of being unconfident.” He leans forward, squinting his eyes at you. “Now, do you think you can handle it?” he questions. 

You want to say yes, but you know he’ll argue with you. He’ll come up with all kinds of logic to tell you why you aren’t qualified for this position. So you keep quiet instead, just staring him down and forcing yourself to not look away. The more you stare, the hotter you get until you realize that it’s not out of embarrassment. This heat is out of attraction. Despite your anger, he’s just so goddamn fine! So you look down at your shoes, too afraid for him to see your true feelings under the anger.

Finally, Nanami heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see it,” he sighs. “I’m afraid this is where we–“ 

“What?” you snap, causing him to stop short. You glare at him, enraged. “That’s it? You bring me in here for an interview just to tell me you’re not hiring me because you don’t think I’m confident?” You square your jaw at him and put a hand to your chest. “I am confident,” you hiss. “If you let me show you, I can prove it to you, Mr. Nanami.” 

Now, Nanami smirks. It's rousing and mocking, angering you even more. “Oh,” he nearly chuckles. “So now you want to look at me. And your emotions are easily roused which could complicate your work if you were to work here.” 

The room has gotten too hot. Too tense. You can’t handle this. If you’re here any longer, you’ll surely jump over this desk and wring his thick neck. “You know what?” you scoff haughtily. “I don’t need to sit here and be criticized like this. I may want this job, but I don’t want it that much to allow myself to be grilled like this.” You abruptly stand from your chair, nearly knocking it over. He looks up at you, his expression cool. 

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Nanami,” you nearly growl. “Have a good day.” You then whip around to storm out of the office, prepared to leave and never return.  

“Stop.” The command cuts through the air along with Nanami’s deep voice. You do so and turn to face him, confused. He is still sitting down, his steely eyes glaring at you from across the room. “Sit down,” he orders. You gawk at him. Is he serious right now? “Why?” you cackle. “So you can go and grill me some more on why I’m not a good candidate for this position? Thanks, but no–“ 

“I said.” The sound of his chair squeaking across the floor stops you short. He stands behind his desk, blocking the window with his big, tall frame. His expression is dark and intimidating, his eyes daring you to argue with him again. “Sit. Down. Y/N.” His tone is hard as steel with a slight undercurrent of a growl underneath. 

You stand there, taken aback at his change in demeanor. And even more so in the way it makes you feel. You feel tingly and hot, specially between your legs. Nanami continues to stare at you, silently daring you to disobey his order. Against your better judgement, you slowly walk back over to his desk on legs that feel like Jell-O and sit down. Your eyes find your shoes again, afraid to look into his as he sits back down behind his desk. 

“You really think you got it like that?” he asks. “You really think that you have what it takes to work for me? With me?” Your heart flips wildly at his questions and the roughness to his tone. He seems so calm and collected. Who the fuck is this? “Answer the question,” he demands. 

You swallow roughly before opening your mouth. “Yes,” you breathlessly reply. 

That is all Nanami needs to hear. He stands again, coming around the desk to stand beside you. You tremble, harshly biting your lip. “You said you’d prove to me your confidence and other assets that you can bring to this position if I let you.” 

Zzzzip. The familiar sound of a zipper coming down stops you short. You turn your head toward him in time to see his hips and crotch in your face and his hands working his belt off. “Well, now I’m letting you.” Your eyes follow his hands as he shrugs his pants down his waist before reaching into his Armani briefs to reveal his throbbing, hard, veiny cock to you. “Show me what you mean, Ms. L/N. Prove to me your worth.” 

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. This can’t be…he isn’t…he can’t… “W-What is this?” you gasp. “Mr. Nanami, you can’t–“ 

“Can’t what?” he asks. You look up at him, seeing nothing but molten lust in his eyes. “Don’t act as if you weren't hoping I’d do this to you. You wore that skirt and those heels for an obvious reason than to just seem presentable.” He nods at your outfit, making you feel ashamed. “And don't think I didn’t catch the way you looked at me when you walked in or the way you kept crossing and uncrossing your legs under the table. You’re fucking feening right now, aren't you, brat?” 

Brat. The name and the sharpness of his tone makes your stomach flip. “What?” you squeak. “I’m not a–“ 

“Talking back too?” he tsks. He places a hand on the back of your hair, near your scalp. “That just won’t do. A girl like you needs to be put in her place, don’t you agree?” He places his other hand on his cock, slowly pumping the hardened shaft in your face. “This is your decision, Y/N,” he huskily says. “If you wish to leave, you can, but if you stay, you need to prove to me your worth. I’m not a man who gives things out so easily.” 

Your eyes tick from him to his cock, back and forth like ping pong balls. You weigh your options carefully: if you say no, you’re out of a really good job and will be forced to return to the dreaded application process, but if you say yes, you’ll be nothing but a cock-sucking slut. What if he doesn’t even give you the job? 

“So what’s it gonna be, little girl?” Nanami hums. Looking back down at his cock, you take your chances. You wrap one tentative hand around the base of his dick, causing him to shimmy closer to you so he’s closer to your mouth. You then begin pressing light kisses around the head and length of his cock, feeling how warm his skin is against your lips. “There we are,” he softly moans. “Good girl.” 

The praise causes your pussy to twitch in delight and you find yourself beginning to lick up and down his long cock while your hands pump the base. He feels so heavy and thick in your hand. As you do this, soft moans drip from Nanami’s lips, deep and arousing. Your tongue and soft hands on him cause him to reach into his briefs to pull out his heavy balls, letting them hang as you continue to pump him. Your mind is racing, your eyes moving to the door ever so often.

Nanami catches you and chuckles to himself. “Don’t worry; my door has an automatic lock. Maki was only able to open it because I left it unlocked in the case of an appointment….or in the case of visits from horny little sluts like you.” 

You whimper at his degrading words, still slobbering along his cock and wetting it with your saliva. Finally, Nanami stops you and takes your chin into his hand, forcing you to look up at him. “So if I were to tell you that I was stressed and in need of relieving, what would you say to that?” he asks. The question would sound random to anyone else, but you know what he means right off the bat. 

So you give him the answer he is searching for: “I’d ask if I could help you,” you softly reply, your voice breathy and soft. Nanami’s cock twitches in response. “Then show me,” he demands, taking his cock and gently smacking the head against your chin. “Open your mouth for me, brat.”  

And you do so. As soon as your open your mouth, Nanami is hypnotized by your tongue and thick, juicy lips spread open for him. He angles his hips towards your mouth and slowly pushes inside, groaning as he does. “Christ!” he grunts, gripping the back of your head. “Your mouth is so tight and wet, darling.” 

Your moans are muffled as his cock slides into your mouth, stretching out your jaw. Your eyes, stinging with tears, widen at how large he is. You’ve never had a cock this big in your mouth before. Your eyes tick up at Nanami, watching as he strips himself of his suit jacket before unbuttoning his shirt. He reveals his bare, toned chest and hard, pink nipples as he begins to roll his hips against your mouth, forcing you to take more of him. “Come on, brat,” he demands. “Take my cock. Isn’t this what you were after?” 

His shaft slides against your tongue, filling your mouth and senses with nothing but the salty taste of his pre-cum, the scent of his cologne in your nostrils, and the feeling of his hand gripping the back of your head. He pushes you down onto his cock, forcing himself into your throat. A gargled moan leaves your lips as he throws his head back and groans at the feeling of being trapped inside your hot, tight throat. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay?” he coos. 

He then begins to slowly roll his hips against your mouth, causing his cock to plunge in and out of your throat, getting deeper each time. His heavy balls swing against your chin, becoming wet with the spit that has begun to pool and drip over your lips. Nanami tuts at the sight of you being a slobbery, sloppy mess for him as he fucks your face. “Such a mess,” he sighs. “Just a dirty, bratty little slut, doesn’t even know how to keep herself clean.” 

He wraps a hand around your braids and forces your head back, yanking his cock out of your mouth. You gasp at the sharp sting coming from your scalp. “You want this?” he murmurs, staring down at you. “You want this cock? Tell me no and I’ll stop.” Your eyes stare at the cock, now shining in your saliva, bobbing in front of you. Your pussy clenches impatiently in your panties, gushing all in the cotton article of clothing. You want this. You want him. “Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, I want your cock. Please give it to me, sir.” 

Nanami closes his eyes and inhales as if your words are a drug that he just got a hit of. “Call me Kento, darling,” he says as he plunges his cock back into your mouth. “Though ‘sir’ does sound quite nice.” He begins to thrust his hips roughly into your mouth, fucking your throat like it is his own personal toy. “It’d be a…fuck…a joy to hear you call me that every single day I…shit, darling…come in here. Even better to hear you moan it. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

Your words are a garbled, mumbling mess around his cock, your voice taken from the sound the lewd, sloppy sounds leaving your lips as he mercilessly fucks your throat. You gag and spit around his shaft, earning praise by his orgasmic moans and grunts. The more he fucks your mouth, the harder his grip on your hair gets until you can feel your scalp burning. But you endure it. You also find yourself enjoying the bite of pain along with the feeling of being used. This is so degrading: being used as a fuck toy in such a way. 

And you love every second of it. 

“Fuck!” Nanami growls, finally pulling his throbbing cock out of your mouth. It bobs against your lips before he pulls away, slowly pumping the appendage in your face. You gasp, finally free to breathe. You are a complete mess, saliva dripping down your chin and staining your blouse; hair askew; makeup ruined. The blonde man stares down at you, your hair still wrapped in his fist. “Look at you,” he huffs. “You’re a fucking mess. Came in here all pretty just to get ruined by me, didn’t you?” 

You whimper at his words, your pussy tingling. His thumb moves across your plump lower lip, spreading the saliva across your lips. “Oh…does my little brat love being degraded?” Hot embarrassment makes you flush. “N-No, I–“ 

You’re silenced by Nanami’s hand squeezing your cheeks, causing your lips to pucker. “Lying?” he sharply asks, his gaze dark. “You have the nerve to fix your mouth to say that shit to me yet your body betrays you.” He nods down at your thighs that clench together and your hardened nipples that have begun to poke through the mesh fabric of your bra. “I guess you need some attention too,” he sighs. “I just can’t decide whether you really deserve my touch.” 

He unhands you then, stepping away from you and leaving you feeling empty. The stinging sensation coming from your scalp and throat are all that remain of him. You feel like you’re burning up. There’s an all-consuming fire eating at your body and between your legs. You need him. You bend down to press your head to his shoes, your trembling hands grasping his pant legs. “Please, sir,” you beg. “Please touch me. You can’t leave me like this!” 

An aloof chuckle leaves Nanami’s lips. “Oh, I can’t?” he asks. “I can’t let you walk out of here with that pussy gushing for me and that mascara running?” You desperately whimper and babble pleas for more, the aching of your sobbing, wet pussy too much to bare. Fortunately, it’s enough for Nanami to give in.

“Oh, alright,” he pitifully sighs, "but only because you look so oh-so pathetic. And you did such a good job sucking my cock just now. Stand up.” You immediately rise to your wobbly feet as soon as the order is uttered. Nanami gives you a hot stare as his hand trails up the front of your blouse. “Let’s get these fucking clothes off,” he growls impatiently. “Oh, and I almost forgot.” 

Suddenly, his lips are on yours, rough and wanton. You moan into the kiss as his hot, wet tongue begins to explore yours, swirling around your mouth and tasting himself off of your tongue. His kiss is hungry and hard; not at all soft or romantic. He is desperate for you. Breathy groans and gasps leaves his lips as his hands begin to quickly unbutton each button to your pretty silk blouse. Soon, he becomes impatient and ends up tearing the thing off of you, resulting in a button flying off. 

You gasp, pulling away from the sloppy kiss as he flings your top open to reveal your lacy black bra. “Sir!” you shout in protest. “Kento, please! You’ll ruin it!” He tears the rest of the top off of you, pulling it off of your arms and tossing it to the side like it didn’t cost you a pretty penny. Nanami rolls his eyes at your dramatics. “You can rest assure you’ll be receiving the money for new clothing…if you do a good job for me now, that is.” 

As his lips and tongue find yours again, his veiny hands then begin to slide up and down your chest, fondling your breasts over your bra cups. You softly moan at his touch into his mouth, the tingling sensation you’re feeling between your thighs quickly growing. He pulls away from the kiss, gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth. “Mmm, such gorgeous breasts you have, darling,” he groans. “Too bad they belong to such a slutty brat.” 

Without warning, he slides your bra straps down your shoulders and slides the bra cups down to reveal your breasts and hard, brown nipples, pebbled by the cold and your arousal. A crazed look crosses Nanami’s eyes before he ducks down to capture a nipple into his mouth. “Shit,” you gasp, your hands finding his hair. His tongue wraps around your nipple, lapping at the tiny bud as his hand works your other breast, fondling it. 

Your mouth falls open and your eyes flutter closed at the new sensations you’re feeling. He then switches to the other, sucking and tugging on the nipple with his teeth, smirking at your sharp intake of breath. He alternates between each nipple, sucking, lapping, and licking at each like a hungered man desperate for water. With each torturous second, the tingling and ache in your cunt grow, making you go nearly insane. “A-Ah,” you moan. “K-Kento…fuck, sir, please!” You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into Nanami’s mouth. 

He chuckles, pulling away from your nipple with a string of saliva dripping from his bottom lip. He looks up at you, his eyes shimmering with lust. “Getting worked up over having your nipples sucked? Such a sensitive little thing you are, Ms. L/N. Now bend over.” You blink at him, momentarily confused and still recovering from the foreplay. “W-What?” you nimbly ask. 

Nanami gives you a stern look, a darkness coming over his gaze. “I didn’t stutter, brat,” he growls. “If I tell you to do something, you do it. How else will I be able to depend on you for this job?” He peels himself away from your naked breasts and nods at his desk. “Now bend over my desk now before I do it for you.” He then cracks one of his hands at his sides, the sound of his knuckle cracking making you gulp (and cream in your panties). 

You do as he says and bend over his desk, being careful to not knock over his laptop, mug, or papers. You brace your hands against the oakwood surface, biting your lip when you feel Nanami’s presence behind you. You’re a wreck before he even touches you, but when he finally slides his hands up your skirt to grip your thighs, you’re shaking. His hands move all across your thighs and backside, gripping your ass over your skirt. “Damn this skirt,” he growls. “Damn this ass of yours. Apologies, darling, but I have to spank you. After all, you deserve punishment for such naughty behavior.” 

He leans down toward you, his minty breath in your face and lips at your ear. “Do you want your punishment, slut?” he questions barely above a whisper. Pathetically, you nod, arching your back and presenting your ass to him. “Y-Yes, sir,” you reply. “Please punish me. Make me your good girl.” 

That answer pleases Nanami. He slides your skirt up to reveal your ass––and the lace, black panties underneath your nylon stockings. “Brace yourself, darling; my hands are rough.” 

Spank! The moment Nanami’s hand makes contact with your asscheek, you jump and gasp at the stinging sensation. His hands really are rough. Nanami chuckles at your reaction. “Yeah, you like that, naughty girl?” He does it again invoking a low, desperate moan from the deepest depths of you. Spank! “Y’know, I saw you staring at my hands earlier.”

Spank! “I bet all you thought about in that dumb little brain of yours is me bending you over and doing this to you.”

Spank! “I bet you want someone to come in and find us like this, your pretty ass bent over my desk.”

Spank! Spank! Spank! 

He does this again and again, punishing your ass until it is stinging and possibly red with his handprints on each cheek. Though it hurts and brings tears to your eyes, it also makes you wetter. The pain mixed with your pleasure is one intoxicating cocktail that you can't get enough of. Soon, your pussy has a heartbeat and it throbs impatiently, ready for something to be inside of it.

“Sir, please!” you whine, gripping the desk for dear life. “I can’t take it anymore! I’m sorry for being such a brat!” 

“Mmm-hmm,” Nanami hums, pleased with your confession. You feel him begin to yank at your stockings, pulling the waistband down your hips. “I bet that pussy is too,” he murmurs as he quickly pulls your stockings down your legs. He is rough and ends up putting a tear in one of them, but you’re way too horny to care. He then reaches your panties and pulls them down, groaning at the way your pussy lips stick to the cotton fabric. “And she is. Just look at how she’s crying for me.” 

You can feel how wet you are judging by the way your pussy tingles in the cold. Nanami bends down and gently blows on it, causing you to tense and softly whimper at the tiny bit of contact. “Such a beautiful pussy you have,” he coos. “And all for me.” Before you can even take a breath, he is gently prying your asscheeks apart and spitting on your pussy before digging in and slurping his saliva back up. 

As he does this, his tongue swirls along your clit and his pillowy-soft lips cushion your pussy, running along your slit as he plays with your cunt with his mouth. You gasp, moan, and sob into the desk, wanting to dig your nails into the oakwood with how good he is. He eats your pussy like it’s a profession of his, taking his time getting to know the ins and outs of you. He even slides his hand up to gently run his thumb over your puckered asshole while he tongue fucks you, groaning appreciatively at your taste. 

Your toes curl inside your heels and your hands grasp to grab for something only to get polished wood beneath you. You’ve never gotten so close so quickly before. Usually, it takes a while for a man to get you even a mile from cumming, but not with Nanami. He moves his mouth and tongue with precision against your clit, moving between fast and slow depending on how your body reacts.

But when his thumb begins to caress your asshole, you just about lose it. “Oh, God,” you sob, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. “Kento, just fuck me. I need you to fuck me!” 

Then…nothing. The feeling of your nearing orgasm fades. Nanami stops eating you out immediately and you’re left wondering what happened. His hand suddenly finds your hair and roughly yanks it back, causing you to release a strangled gasp. It hurts way more than earlier, his grip tight and merciless.

He bends his face down to meet yours, his eyes dark and almost frightening. “You don't tell me what the fuck to do, brat,” he growls. “I decide what to do to your body. Me. Understand?” 

His grip tightens more and the stinging in your scalp of your braids being yanked nearly makes you see God early. “Yes!” you sob. “Yes, sir, I’m sorry! This pussy just needs you so bad!” Finally, he loosens his grip and releases your hair, emitting a weak moan of pain from you. 

“Alright, brat,” he cooly says. “I’ll fuck you…but we’ll do it my way. Put your hands behind your back, wrists crossed.” 

You do as you’re told, putting your hands behind your back and crossing them over one another. You then feel Nanami’s funny-looking tie wrap around your wrists, tightening them and securing them behind your back.

You softly gasp at the sensations of being restricted to which Nanami pauses. “Good?” he asks. You nod and he proceeds to continue to tie your wrists until he is finally satisfied. “There we go,” he proudly says. “Now you can’t squirm or make a fuss when I plunge my cock deep inside of you.” 

And you can’t. Your arms are completely restricted from movement, as is the rest of you as you stand between the desk and Nanami mounted behind you. He ruts his hips against your ass for a few minutes, sliding his cock between your slit and over your throbbing clit, relishing the sounds you make as you lay splayed out against his desk.

“Here I come, baby,” he whispers before sliding all the way home inside you. You gasp in unison as his thick cock stretches out your wet pussy walls, filling you up the way you’ve been waiting for. 

He starts slow at first, grabbing your hips and slowly rolling his hips so you can get used to his length and girth. Your hand flies to your mouth to cover it, muffling your moans. Nanami doesn’t like that. He tears your hand away from your face, pinning it back down on the desk. “My walls are soundproof,” he grunts. “You have no need to worry. Come on, baby; give me those slutty sounds I know you can make.” 

He begins to fuck you harder against the desk, one hand gripping your hip while the other lays flat on the middle of your back, keeping you pressed flat against the oakwood surface. As soon as he hits that spot inside you, you can’t keep quiet. You begin wailing in pleasure, overcome with the feeling he is giving you. “O-Oh, fuck!” you gasp. “Fuck, sir!” 

Nanami draws more of these moans and wails of pleasure out of you the more he fucks you until he is pounding your pussy against the desk. “God, you’re so tight!” he groans. “You’re much better than the fleshlight I keep under my desk. You’d be a much better addition to my office for stress.” He gives your ass a smack before lifting your leg up and fucking into you at a faster pace that is making you see the entire galaxy. 

“Take it,” he demands. “Take this cock. You wanted it so bad and now you’ve got it.” Yes, you do have it…but you don’t know if you can take it. Every rough thrust of his cock sends you into orbit. It shakes the desk with you bent over it, making your titties bounce against the surface and your ass jiggle against his hips. “Wait, sir!” you plea. “Go slow! Can’t…handle…it!” Your words are broken by the force of how hard he is fucking you, taking you very breath away. 

Nanami cackles like a villain straight out of a Disney movie as he looks over your plump ass pressed against him, his cock nestled deep in your ushy, gushy pussy. “Ohhh, is this cock too much for that poor pussy?” he teasingly asks. “Is it too big and thick for that slutty little hole to take? I believe I missed the part where I gave a fuck.” 

He continues to turn you all the way out, making the desk rock and causing his balls to swing against your clit, throwing you deeper into pleasure. “This is what you get for being a brat,” he grunts. “This is what you get for disobeying me. What you get for wearing that skirt and those heels. This is what–“ 

Rrrring! Rrrring! 

Nanami doesn’t slow his pace or stop his rough fucking into your cunt despite his work phone ringing. You weakly look up at the black telephone sitting by his laptop. “This is a call from Satoru Gojo,” the automated voice announces from the phone. 

“Shit!” Nanami hisses. He bends down toward you then, his nose nearly centimeters from yours. “I’ve gotta take this, but don’t you dare say a single thing. Don’t make a sound.”

You weakly nod, covering your mouth as he goes to pick up the phone. After a moment of composing himself, he clears his throat and answers. “Yes, Satoru?” he asks, keeping his voice steady and cool as if he isn’t fucking your brains out over his desk. “This had better be important. I’m busy at the moment.” 

“You’re always busy!” Gojo shouts into the phone, causing Nanami to flinch. “It’s what you always say when I ask for you to come out with me on the weekends…which you never do!”

Nanami sighs and you picture him rolling his eyes from behind you as he grips one of your asscheeks, no doubt leaving bruises. “That’s because all you do is hang out at clubs to fuck strangers and drink yourself into a stupor.” 

“Yeah!” Gojo agrees. “And it’s fun! You ever heard of that before? Fun? You ever try it? I think it’d do you good one of these days to have it some time, Keni.” 

This “Satoru” guy must really work Nanami’s nerves because you can feel the tension radiating off of him. He finds your hair and he grips it, continuing to pound into you at a faster pace than before. “What do you want?” He asks, becoming impatient. He yanks on your hair a little too rough and you whimper from behind your hand, your body tensing. Nanami quickly loosens his grip, looking down upon you with worry. ”Too rough?” he whispers. 

You look back at him and shake your head though your scalp burns. But you want it to burn. You want to take every single of ounce of pain and pleasure he gives you. “No,” you whisper. “I’m okay.” You begin to fuck back into him, tossing your ass back to fuck his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure. “Fuck me harder, sir,” you purr. “Take your stress out on this pussy. Make this little slut yours.” 

Nanami’s eyes widen like he can’t believe you’re really real. “Fucking hell,” he whispers. Suddenly realizing he’s still on the phone, he puts the phone back to his ear while he roughly pins you back down to the desk. “Sorry, what?” he questions. 

“I was telling you about the meeting we’re supposed to have at the end of the week,” Gojo repeats. “Were you listening to me at all?” You groan as Nanami’s cock sinks deeper inside you and your hand finds your slit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Sorry, I got…distracted.” You giggle behind your hand. “Is this about the brand deal with the Human Rights Campaign? I told them we get 50% of proceeds.” 

“Not just them, but the New York Times too!” Gojo excitedly states. “I pulled some strings for us, man! They want to do a story on both of our departments! Say, ain’t it weird that we’re both a part of the same company but my department is all the way in the fucking US?” 

Nanami rails you harder; deeper; faster. Pushing you further and further towards an explosive orgasm. “Gojo, I told you already,” he grunts. “You’re part of the American branch while I’m part of–“

His words are quickly interrupted by a sharp gasp when you begin tossing your ass back into him, looking back at him as you do it. He glares down at you like he is one second away from ruining you. “You fucking brat,” he snarls. “You’re gonna get it later.” 

“Who’s gonna get it later?” Gojo asks curiously. “Nanami, you good? You’re acting kinda off. Are you with somebody right now?” Your heart lurches into your throat, but your pussy also clenches at the idea of being caught. “No,” Nanami sharply replies, yanking on your hair. “No, it was just a bug I saw. Listen, I’ve gotta go.” 

You thank God for that because you don’t think you can keep quiet anymore. You have to clamp your hand over your mouth and bite your palm to keep from screaming at the deep dicking you’re receiving. “So we’re on meeting both HRC and NYT on Friday?” Gojo asks. “It starts at 1PM to about 3, but I’ll be bringing wine along so that might turn into about 5.” 

“Yes, yes, that’s fine,” Nanami impatiently huffs. “Just keep me informed.” Without a goodbye, he hangs up and tosses the phone on the ground. “Now back to you,” he growls. He takes your hips and pounds into you with the force of a thousand men, wrecking you on his cock. “Don’t run from it now, brat. You were so desperate to fuck yourself on it minutes before.” 

Your tits swing beneath you and your ass claps against him every time he thrusts, creating a symphony of sounds mingling with your desperate whines and the squelching of your wet pussy being fucked by his cock. You can’t take it anymore. Your body is wet with sweat and your knees are buckling, tired from this and desperate for rest, just as your pussy is desperate to cum. “K-Kento!” you whine. “Keni, I’m so close! I need to cum!” 

And like an asshole, Nanami slows down, purposely rolling his hips in a way that is agonizing given that he isn’t moving any quicker. “Prove it,” he demands. “Make me make you cum. Beg for it, brat.” 

The slower he gets, the crazier you become until you’re pleading for him to just make you cum. “Please make me cum, sir,” you sob in desperation. “Make me cream all over your cock! Please, I need it! Your little brat needs to cum on that dick and have you fill her up.”

You turn to face him, peering up at him through thick lashes and big, brown eyes that have Nanami wanting to nut all over you just so everyone can know you are his now. “Please, Keni,” you whisper. “Gimme that dick. Gimme that cum. Your little office sluts needs it so much.” 

That does it for Nanami. He speeds up immediately, pounding your wet pussy into his desk until neither one of you are quiet and both of you are soon tumbling over the edge. “Fuck!” he groans. “I’m gonna cum! I can’t stop!” 

Your moans are signs of encouragement to cum deep inside of you and he does so. With a primal grunt of your first name, he pours his cum inside of your aching, twitching pussy. You cum right with him, your walls gripping onto him tighter than a vice as your body tenses. With a loud moan, you cum all over his dick, making his balls drip with your cream because there is so much of it. You can feel him drip down your thighs, staining your pretty nylon stockings. You can’t even recover from the orgasm yet. Nanami quickly pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, emitting a weak moan from the emptiness you feel. 

“Not done yet,” he snarls. He pumps his cock, wet with your and his cum, hard and fast, his handsome face red with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Turn the fuck around and show me that face. Stick out your tongue.” You do as he says, though wobbly and soaked with sweat and cum. 

You get on your knees and look up at him, admiring his God-like body. You then open your mouth, sticking out your pink tongue, hot, needy pants leaving your lips the more he pumps his cock against your lips. “Gonna paint this pretty face,” he moans. “Gonna make you wish you listened to me.”

You watch his toned body tense and writhe as he finally cums again, shooting ropes of cum into your mouth and onto your face, destroying your makeup. You gasp as each warm drop hits your skin, coating you in all of his sticky nut. You feel used. Owned. 

Nanami staggers away from you, panting heavily, his toned body soaked in sweat. He swipes his blonde strands from his flushed forehead, still coming down from his high. He then looks down at you with his cum dripping down your face, your pretty interview outfit ruined, and your braids askew. “Consider yourself hired,” he says, a rasp in his voice. 

You giggle at his words despite his cum beginning to drip over your eyes. You shut them, not wanting to go blind. “Shit, I needed that,” Nanami sighs. You weakly moan, bringing him back to reality. “Shit, hang on a sec,” he says, panicking slightly as the cum begins to drip lower and lower down to your breasts. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You hear him walk around you to his desk before returning with some tissues. 

He carefully dabs at your face, cleaning you up. “Sorry about your makeup, honey,” he says. “It’s all over these tissues now.” He goes down to your chest, cleaning between your breasts and neck. Finally, he finishes. “There now. All clean.” You open your eyes to stare into his, feeling like you’re wandering through a deep, wild wilderness in those green orbs. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says, moving behind you to untie your wrists. 

When you’re finally free, you twist your wrists around and wiggle your fingers, getting the blood flowing back through your bones. “So how do you feel?” he softly asks. You take a moment to assess yourself. Though your body aches, your throat is raw, and your pussy is feeling sore, you feel oh-so good. It’s so hard to explain. To be used up by him has made you feel better than you have in months. “I-I feel…good,” you decide. “Better than good. I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. Thank God for your soundproof walls.” 

A slight blush paints Nanami’s face. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s so endearing and makes you wanna make him cum over and over again. “So I did okay?” he sheepishly asks. 

You wrap your arms around him, “Baby, you did more than okay,” you giggle, pecking his lips. “But you always do…but I’d be lying if I said that seeing your Dom side isn’t a turn-on.” Nanami beams at you, happy that he could make your dreams come true. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he chuckles. “We’ll have to make these lunch visits more of a frequent thing for us. Including the role-play.” 

You giggle in agreement and take his hands, allowing him to help you stand on your wobbly feet and weak knees. He then begins to fix his pants and adjust himself, putting his cock back in his briefs while you pull up your panties over your twitching, soaked pussy. “Oh, which reminds me!” you chirp. “The sandwich rolls are still downstairs in the employee fridge. I left them there in case our meeting got, um…lengthy.” 

Nanami smirks and curls his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Such a smart and sexy girl I’ve got,” he coos. “How was I so lucky to end up with you?” You place your hands on his bare chest, feeling his heart beat against your palms. “Guess it was just fate,” you reply, hopelessly in love with the man standing before you. Nanami smiles, silently agreeing with your statement. 

You then part and continue to get dressed, adjusting your clothes as to not make any of the employees aware that you two fucked in their boss’s office just now. “And you’re sure that Maki and Mai don’t suspect a thing?” you curiously ask as you fix your blouse, pouting at the two buttons that popped off. 

Nanami looks at you as he fixes his button-up, only fixing the first button before moving toward you. “No one knows I’m even dating anyone, Y/N,” he assures you with a kiss to your jawline. “I barely tell my team anything about what goes on outside this building. Don’t worry, no one knows that we’re–“ 

“Fucking!” Mai screams from outside the door, scaring the shit out of you. “They’re totally fucking, Maki! I told you!” 

“Mai, get away from the door!” Maki criticizes her sister. “That’s an invasion of privacy!” 

You turn to Nanami and beg him with your eyes to kill you if you don’t die of embarrassment first. He takes one look at the door before turning to you, his hands on his narrow hips. “Well, guess I’ll be looking for another assistant,” he sighs. “And a soundproofed door.” 

THE END.

[froggibus]

Resurrection - Wally West

Pairing: Wally West x gn! Reader, platonic! Dick Grayson x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: it’s been almost a year since Wally died, and life has not been kind to you. it doesn’t help that when you get the flu and your fever spikes, you start seeing the speedster everywhere you turn

CW: loss of a loved one, grief, sickness, hallucinations, reader is worried they’re going crazy, overactive imagination, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, ghosts, reader was a part of Young Justice, mutual pining, friends to lovers, resurrection

This alludes heavily to the Young Justice tv show, especially Wally’s death. I apologize in advance because I have poor knowledge of the Flash Family and speedforce!!

day 1 of me pushing my Wally West agenda!! i absolutely adore Wally, and im so happy to be writing about him. this is literally the longest thing ive ever posted on this site but I got so into the story that I couldn’t stop. hopefully this makes sense and isn’t just a jumble of words 😭also i think from now on im gonna include wally in any of my dick/jason/tim hcs

also im very tempted to do a pt2/make a series of wally adapting to life afterwards

————

You groan in your bed, your fever spiking to an almost unbearable temperature. You spend a lot of time in bed nowadays—ever since your best friend died almost a year ago, you haven’t had the drive to do much. But being sick the past week has only confined you to your bed even more. 

You roll over, hoping the other half of your pillow is somehow cooler than the side you’re on now. It’s not, and your body feels like it’s going to overheat. If it was possible to put less clothing on, you would, but the chances of your roommate coming in and seeing you naked are too high. 

Speaking of your roommate, you know that when Dick comes home and sees how bad your temperature has gotten, he’ll rush you to the hospital. Paranoid, big brother Dick who insists he can’t lose another friend. Dick, who moved in with you a few months after Wally died because he was afraid you might hurt yourself. Dick, who forced you to put socks on and keep most of your clothes on because even though you feel hot, he knows you’re still vulnerable to the cold. 

The socks scratch at your ankles now and you long to pull them off, lazily dragging your feet together. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your burning nerve ends. 

As much pain as you’re in, this is the most you’ve felt since Wally died. From the day you watched him get vaporised, everything around you has just gotten duller by the day. You can hardly stomach to put on your costume, let alone look at Barry or Bart. Even seeing The Flash on the news is enough to make you sick. 

“Y/n,” a soft voice echoes from the bed next to you. 

You force your eyes open, your dark room greeting you. “Hello?”

There’s no answer, and you’re able to close your eyes again. You relax into your bedsheets, kicking the blankets off of your legs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. Clearly your fever has spiked to the point where you’re losing it. 

“Y/n!” The voice is stronger now, and it sounds more desperate than before. More than that—there’s something familiar to it. 

You open your eyes again and gasp, all of the breath leaving your body. There, sitting on the bed next to you, is Wally. His green eyes are full of concern, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

“Oh god,” you whine, “I really am losing it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the hallucination of your dead best friend to go away. How could any god be so cruel to inflict this on you? Knowing how you felt about Wally—and what he’d said to you during your last moments together?

When you open your eyes again, he’s still sitting there. His unruly red hair is falling into his face and all you want is to reach out and brush it away. 

“You’re not losing it,” he says. 

“I’m so sick that I’m hallucinating my dead best friend. How is that not losing it?”

He shrugs. “I mean it does sound pretty crazy, but I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re dead,” you say simply, voice void of emotions. “You died and you left and you’re never coming back.”

“I got better.”

Everything about him screams Wally. His voice, his mannerisms, even the stupid jokes he makes. But you know it’s just your brain playing a stupid trick on you. Your braincells have overheated and you’re left staring at a ghost. 

“No, you didn’t. And you never will, Wally. And I know that so I don’t get why my stupid brain can’t leave this alone.”

He lays down on his side next to you, looking up at you with those doe eyes. “There wasn’t a body, you know.”

His words make you angry, they make you choke on the lump in your throat. But he’s right. Something about his death always seemed wrong to you, and even after this long, you still can’t accept it. He’s saying all of the right things, and it almost makes you believe he’s really here. 

“So say you are here…why now? Why here? Why am I the only one who’s seen you?”

He strokes his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t really know, y/n. I’ve been here the whole time. I’ve watched everything. I know how hard things have been for you guys…” 

You don’t say anything, just staring at him expectantly, forcing him to keep talking. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m glad Dick is taking care of you.”

“Answer the question, Wally. Why now?”

He sighs. “I think it’s because you’re sick. I think once your fever got past a certain point you were able to hear me, and once you could hear me, you could see me.”

“How would that even work?” You squint at him, “how did you even know I could hear you?”

“I didn’t it’s just—it’s a habit to talk to you, you know? But anyway, I think it has something to do with the speed force being attracted to the release of energy, and whenever you have a fever, you release massive amounts of it. But since yours is so high…” he gestures at himself for emphasis. 

“So as long as I stay sick, I can see you?”

“I think so.”

“Then I never want to get better,” you murmur. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, and the tone he uses makes you freeze. You’ve only ever heard him use it once before—with you on the day he died. 

The thought brings a tear to your eye, his words echoing in your ears. I love you, y/n, I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?

When Dick gets home from work, he’s surprised to hear you talking. His first instinct is that you’re feeling better and you’re arranging to go back to work, but as he gets closer to your bedroom door, he realizes it’s not the case. 

He listens in for a bit, hearing a one sided conversation. As soon as he hears you say ‘Wally’, he’s barging through your door only to find you talking to the air. 

“Dick!” You cry out, gesturing to the empty bed next to you, “look! He’s back, he’s here. Wally’s here!”

Dick’s heart aches for you. You’re clearly unwell and in your feverish state, your mind is playing tricks on you. 

“Y/n,” Dick sighs, “I think it’s time we go to a doctor.”

He approaches your bedside slowly, trying not to startle or upset you. He knows you’re hallucinating, and he really doesn’t want to trigger anything worse to happen. 

He kneels at your bedside, just behind Wally. “Come on, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“N-no! I can’t leave Wally!”

Wally’s face crinkles up the way it always has when he feels guilty. “Y/n, I think you should go with Rob.”

“No!” You cry out, “you can’t leave me again!”

Dick gives you no warning before he’s pulling you into his arms, your feverish skin scorching his. He holds you securely, even as you cry and beg him to take you back to Wally. 

“Wally, please! Do something! Let him see you! Don’t—don’t leave me again!”

“Y/n,” Dick rubs your sweaty hair out of your face. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re really sick, and you’re hallucinating, but we’ll make you all better. I just need you to trust me.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, looking over Dick’s shoulder at the redhead sitting on your bed, giving you a sad look. He gives you a wave, “it’s okay, y/n. Everything will be okay.”

You just hope he’s right. 

—

The hospital takes an eternity to admit you, leaving you lying on Dick’s lap in the waiting room. You keep your eyes closed, hoping that if you open them Wally will be there, but you know he won’t. 

Dick strokes your hair, rubs your back, does anything he can to keep you comfortable. When a nurse finally calls your name, he helps you to your feet and half carries you down the hall. 

They leave the two of you in a small, isolated room with a bed covered in scratchy sheets. Dick helps you climb up while the nurse insists a doctor will be by shortly. 

Dick holds your hand the whole time, the skin on his palm turning sweaty from where your hand touches his. Your fever has only gone up since you left the house and you feel like you’re going to burn alive. 

Finally, a doctor comes in and she starts to run all kinds of tests on you. After a while, they insert an IV into your arm and push fluids to keep you hydrated. They give you medicine to help you drift off to sleep, your eyes fluttering shut before you realize what’s happening. 

You wake up a few hours later, Dick no longer asleep at your bedside. Your temperature has gone down, and while you still feel feverish, you’re coherent enough to know what’s going on around you. 

“—hallucinating our best friend who died almost a year ago.” Dick tried to keep his voice down but you can hear it from the hallway. 

“It’s common in extremely high fever’s to experience visual, auditory and sometimes even tactile hallucinations,” the doctor explains. “Y/n’s fever was beyond high enough to cause any number of these complications.” 

Your shoulders slump. You knew deep down that Wally wasn’t really there, that he was a hallucination, but a part of you just hoped…

“But it’s going to be alright? There’s not any permanent side effects?”

The doctor sounds tired of Dick’s questions. “No, we’re keeping y/n overnight for observation but there shouldn’t be any long term side effects.”

Dick thanks the woman and slips back into your room, stopping in his tracks past the door when he realises you’re awake. “How are you feeling?” He whispers. 

“Somewhat better,” you admit. “Not hallucinating anymore.”

He sits in the chair next to your bed and squeezes your hand. “That’s good to hear.”

“I-I’m sorry if I upset you earlier…talking about Wally and everything. I just—it seemed so real, you know? He was right there, Dick.”

“I know. You don’t need to apologize. Your mind was playing tricks on you, n/n. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.”

You can’t help the tears that trickle down your cheeks. “I just—I miss him so much!” 

“It’s okay,” Dick leans over your bed, pulling you tightly to his chest. “I miss him too. I miss him so, so much. And if there was any chance…you know I would take it too.”

“Did I ever tell you what he said to me that day? Just before he passed?”

Dick shakes his head. 

“He said—,” your voice shakes so severely it’s hard to get the words out. “He said ‘I love you, y/n. I always have. I’ll be back for you, okay?’” 

The gears in Dick’s brain click together, and suddenly everything makes sense. It was no secret that you and Wally had been pining after each other for years. Always cuddling and fighting and loving and hating each other. Dick was close to both of you, and he of all people knew how your feelings were bubbling over. He knew how badly you wanted to be with Wally—and how badly Wally wanted to be with you.

It’s a cruel joke, he thinks. That in one day you got everything you wanted, and an hour later had it ripped away. No wonder you’d been like a zombie this year.

“Y/n…” he squeezes your hand reassuringly. 

You squeeze his hand back, and between the fever and the medicine and Dick’s skin on yours, everything in the world feels right for a minute. 

—

It takes two weeks for you to fully recover from being sick. If it weren’t for your roommate being the ultra rich adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you probably would have had to go back to work sooner. Dick insisted that you stay home until you were fully recovered, though, offering to cover your bills for the month. 

It’s also been two weeks since you saw Wally. It’s been easy to brush it off as a fever dream, but something deep within you wants it to be something more than that. Still, you try to continue on with your day to day life, putting thoughts of the speedster as far away from you as possible. 

You pull into the Bludhaven News parking lot with ten minutes to spare. You grab your bag from the passenger seat and clip your badge to your shirt before grabbing the coffee you’d stopped for on the way. You’re determined to make today a good day. 

You settle in at your desk, smiling at the picture of you and the original Young Justice team was kids. It makes you happy, but in the most bittersweet meaning of the word. You run your fingers across the glass, stopping them at the lightning symbol on Wally’s chest. 

You’re interrupted by your boss stopping at your desk. 

“Hey, l/n, good to have you back,” she smiles, and you feel as though she really means it. “We’re having a meeting in five minutes.”

You nod, thanking her. She leaves you at your desk, letting you get organized before you have to meet them in the conference room. 

You bring your laptop and coffee and settle in at the big round table in the spinning desk chair. Other journalists, reporters and higher ups slowly file into the room, filling it up until it’s so full it feels almost hard to breathe. 

Your boss enters the room last, standing at the front in front of the tv. She welcomes you back before explaining what’s going on in current events, and what she expects everyone to report on. 

You sip your coffee, zoning out for the majority of her presentation. Every once and a while, she clicks a remote and the screen changes to a new slide. You don’t pay much attention to the tv, only glancing at it every so often. 

When the screen changes to three familiar figures, you freeze. It feels like someone dumped cold water on you, and you’re painfully aware of everything going on around you. 

The screen shows Wally, Bart and Barry on the day he died. Wally has a big grin on his face, clad in his Kid Flash suit, giving a salute to a security camera. You’re not sure how they got this picture, but a part of you wishes they didn’t. 

“—the one year anniversary since the Flash Family saved the world, and since Kid Flash bravely sacrificed himself to achieve this goal. We want to honour them for their ultimate sacrifice, and that’s why this month, we’ll be doing daily pieces on the great exploits of the family. Also—,”

Her words echo in your ears, everything feels far away from you. The only thing you can focus on is the way your heart is pounding and the way all the air is sucked out of your lungs. Wally’s face stares at you from the tv screen, and the walls close in. 

You’re on your feet in an instant. “Pardon me,” you rasp out, before almost running out of the room. 

You’re not sure where you’re going. Your head is spinning, your heart is racing, everything is fading away. You stumble your way into the bathroom, locking the door behind you before your knees buckle and you hit the floor. 

You claw at your throat, desperate for air. You squeeze your eyes shut, clenching your fists, desperate for pressure. When you open your eyes, you swear Wally is there. 

“You’re not here,” you gasp. “You’re not real.”

Wally’s green eyes are wide, staring at you with concern. “Y/n—,”

“You’re not real! You’re just some ghost—fucking haunting me for no reason at all!”

It breaks his heart to see you like this. So sad, so hurt, barely able to breathe. 

“Stop,” you choke out, “stop haunting me! Stop, stop, stop it!”

Wally hasn’t seen you have a panic attack this bad since you were kids. Curled up in a ball, gasping for air and repeating the same word over and over again. He’s desperate to help you—help you like he did back then. 

He doesn’t even register what he’s doing until he pulls you into his lap, arms tight around your waist. He keeps a hand over your heart, tracing circles over it. 

“Y/n, y/n…” He murmurs softly, “y/n, listen to me. Deep breath in, okay? Follow my example, feel my heart beating.”

You’re not sure how you can feel his arms on you, feel his heart beating against your back. You’re half convinced you’ve already fainted, and you’re laying on the bathroom floor having another fever dream. 

Still, you follow his example. You breathe in when you feel his chest rise, and breathe out when you feel his chest fall. You stay silent for a few minutes, leaning completely against Wally until you can breathe again. 

Wally rubs your hair, his other hand tracing circles on your hip bone. “How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“Better,” you admit. 

It takes a few minutes longer for either of you to register that he’s touching you. His hands are on your body and you can feel them. 

“Wally, you’re touching me.”

“I’m touching you?”

The shock is almost enough to send you back into a panic attack. Ghosts can’t touch people, neither can fever dreams. But somehow, someway, Wally West is holding you in his arms. 

—

You leave the bathroom ten minutes later, after you and Wally went back and forth on if he was really there with you or not. You insist you’re losing it, but Wally insists he’s there, and somehow when you were sick, you connected to the speed force and now you can see him. 

You head back to your desk with no intention of working, set on researching the speed force and if it’s possible to connect to it without being a speedster. Of course, Google doesn’t yield the results you hope, so you decide to go a different route. 

You pull out your phone and text Dick. 

You: do you think you could get me Barry’s number? need it for work 

Robin 1.0: I think I can manage 

You: you’re the best 

Robin 1.0: don’t you know it

It only takes a few minutes before he texts you his contact for Barry Allen. You waste no time in opening the contact and sending him a quick text. 

Of course, you don’t get to see what he responds because suddenly your boss is over your shoulder. 

“Y/n, you know what our policy is on personal devices at work. There’s too much sensitive information here.”

“I know, I know. But if I play my cards right,” your ability to think on your feet coming in handy, “I could get us an exclusive interview with the Flash.”

She lights up at that. “Okay, but remember, no pictures or recordings.”

“Sure thing,” you nod and wait for her to leave before opening up your phone and seeing that you have a new text. 

You: can I ask you a few questions on the speed force?

Barry Allen: sure thing

You: i know the speedforce is like it’s own separate thing that speedsters connect to, but is it possible for non speedsters to connect to it? 

Barry Allen: only under extenuating circumstances. not every ordinary person can just connect to it, but if you’ve been in contact with the speedforce unwittingly or if a speedster has accidentally shared particles with you it’s possible. why?

You: just…a theory im working on for work. we’re doing a piece on Flash Family to honour you guys for saving the world and I wanted to look into it more 

You: thank you

Barry Allen: do you think you’ve been in contact with a speedster recently?

You: i don’t know, if I’m being honest. 

Barry Allen: okay…keep me updated, okay? if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask 

You: thanks

You frown, your conversation with Barry only making you feel more confused. How would you have had contact with a speedster or the speedforce? It’s been almost a year since you last touched Wally, and there’s no way the symptoms are only coming out now. And the speedforce—there’s no way for you to have connected with it either. 

You look up from your phone only to see Wally sitting on your desk, looking at you with amusement. “Get what you wanted?”

“Why are you still here?”

“What?” He holds his hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

You go to speak but realize your coworkers are giving you strange looks. You quickly put your phone up to your ear, pretending to be on a phone call. 

“Of course I want you here. I lo—miss you, okay? But it’s not possible. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I am, y/n. And did Barry not just confirm that to you?”

You sigh. “I will admit, what Barry said does confirm my theory, and what you said while I was sick but…”

“But?”

“It shouldn’t be possible. You were vaporized, Wally. You’re dead. So even if you are here, you’re just a ghost.” 

“Ghost, schmost,” he rolls his eyes, leaning in to flick your arm. “Does that not feel real to you?”

“I don’t know, okay? Just—I need time to think. About everything.”

You don’t say it, but it lingers in the air: I need time to think about you. 

You put your phone down, indicating to the boy that you’re done talking, before returning to your job. The day goes by fast when you’re contemplating if you’re actually being haunted by the ghost of your best friend or not. 

Before you know it, you’re heading home. When you get through the door of the apartment, Dick is nowhere to be found. He must still be at work, you think. 

You kick off your shoes and set your bag on the counter before throwing yourself on your bed. You lay down for only a minute before a familiar cologne fills your scent. One you haven’t smelled in a long time. 

You don’t need to open your eyes to know that Wally is back. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping I could catch you changing,” you can hear the grin in his voice. 

You sit up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Wait—if you’ve been here this whole time then…?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I didn’t! I mean, I thought about it but…it feels wrong.” 

“More wrong than confessing your love to me and then dying?”

Both of you freeze after that, and your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can force the words back in there. 

“I—y/n…you know that if I had a choice, I would have come back to you. Right?”

You nod, “I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he places a hand over yours. “I wanted to come back to you. Even though you didn’t say it back, I just thought—”

“You didn’t give me a chance to say it back! You dumped all that on me and then you ran away and left, Wally! You didn’t give me the chance!”

Your outburst surprises both of you. Wally isn’t sure what to do—if he should apologize or be angry or both or neither. So he says nothing. 

“I-I think you should go, Wally. You’re only doing harm by being here. You’re dead and I need to move on and I never will if you’re just here haunting me.”

You expect him to argue or to make a joke, but the boy doesn’t do any of that. He gives you a lazy, one handed salute, like the kind he would give before speeding away as kids. 

And then he disappears. 

You feel sad and angry all at the same time. You know it’s not fair to Wally to lash out at him like that, but how is it fair for him to open up old wounds? For him to haunt you? 

When Dick gets home, he’s surprised to see you dressed in your old costume. It’s been so long since you put it on, you look almost strange to him. 

“Uh, y/n?” He asks, “not that I’m against this but, what’s up with the costume?”

“I was thinking I could go out on patrol with you tonight,” you explain. “It’s been a while. I need to blow off steam.” 

“Okay, let me get changed.”

That’s good enough for you, so you settle in at the counter and wait for Nightwing to suit up. He comes out a few minutes later, clad in the black and blue Nightwing suit. 

He looks at you seriously through his domino mask. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“If I don’t get out, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in surrender. “But don’t push yourself, okay? And I’ll be there the whole time.”

“Alright, dad,” you roll your eyes. “Let’s go.”

—

Patrol goes fine. It’s just the usual robberies and gang violence, nothing that you and Nightwing can’t handle. Of course, that’s until you hear there’s a bank robbery over the scanner. 

The two of you are about to take off and head towards the bank when you hear the radio go off again. This time, it’s a jewellery store being robbed. 

“Go!” You say to Nightwing, “you get the bank, I can handle the store.”

He seems content with that answer, grappling to the nearest rooftop and heading off towards the bank. You turn and head towards the jewellery store, hoping it’s enough to take your mind off of Wally. 

You get to the store just in time to stop the robbers from shooting the owner.  You knock the gun out of one of their hands, turning to fight the other one. There’s five total, maybe six, but your vision is tunnelling and all you can focus on is the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your need for a distraction. 

You make your way through three of them, and just as you turn to fight the fourth, you hear someone yell from behind you. 

“Y/n, look out!”

You knock out the fourth and turn around, just in time to see Wally West pass through you and punch the man in the face. He hits him hard enough to send him falling to the floor.

You stare at Wally in shock. “You—you hit him!”

“Are you okay?” He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“You saved me…” You mutter. “How did you do that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he admits, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I just didn’t want you to get hurt and then I passed through you and—”

“Dick!” You exclaim, realising you haven’t heard anything from him in a while, and that he still hasn’t returned to you. “Somethings wrong, Wal. We—I gotta go!”

Wally goes to protest, but you’re already running away. Not only are you running away, you’re running at the speed of light, yellow lightning crackling from your ankles. You don’t realize it, too focused on getting to Dick. 

You arrive at the bank to see a bunch of lackeys passed out on the floor. Nightwing is leaning on a counter, holding his hands over a bullet hole in his side. 

“Hey!” You cry out, skidding to a stop next to him. The bank smells gross, like gunpowder and..burning rubber? “Are you okay? Did you get them all?”

He clenched his jaw. “All but one. He headed North, there’s no way we’ll catch him. He’s probably out of town by now.”

“No, he’s not going to get away with this. We’re going to find him.”

And before Dick can ask, you’re tearing away from the bank, lightning in your wake. His jaw falls open at the sight. In the dark, with the speed you’re going and the lightning coming out, you almost look like Wally…

You run as fast as you can, keeping your eyes peeled for the man driving the truck of jewels. You catch up to him in no time, throwing your body weight against the truck fast enough to tip it over. 

Your veins are electrified, pure lightning in your system, better than adrenaline ever could be. You rip the man out of the truck and toss him onto the street. It only takes one hit for you to knock him out, and only a few more seconds to tie him up. 

It’s then that you realize what just happened, how fast you were going. You look down to see the soles of your shoes on fire, the thighs of your costume torn open from the fabric chafing so fast.

Something about the ruined shoes and the torn fabric makes you think of Wally, and the thought of the ghost in the bank saving your life only makes you want to run even more. Is this how he felt everytime he ran? It’s exhilarating, it only makes you want more.

You keep running, running straight up the side of a building before stopping in your tracks on the roof. How did this even happen? You look around, half expecting to see Wally there, but he’s not. 

Your legs quiver, threatening to collapse beneath you. Your feet ache from all of the running and your shoes have practically disintegrated into nothing. You know you’re done for the night, your body at its absolute limit. 

Your knees buckle, but before you can hit the ground, there’s a streak of yellow and suddenly Wally is holding you up against his chest. 

“I—what’s going on?” You ask. 

Wally holds you up with one arm, staring at his other hand. He shakes it, going fast enough to make it seem as though his hand is vibrating. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I—something’s changed. I can feel it.”

You hear the unmistakable sound of a grappling hook before Nightwing is landing on the roof. “Holy shit, y/n. How were you going so fast? For a second there, I thought it was—Wally?”

His face pales at the sight of the redhead, clad in his Kid Flash suit, holding you up against his body. There’s no way he’s here now, alive and well, right in front of his eyes. 

“You…you can see him?”

Dick is running across the roof in an instant, feet pushing him closer to his best friend. He jumps on both of you, arms wrapping around you both. “Wally,” he sobs into his shoulder. “How—how are you here?”

There’s another flash of lightning—red lightning—and suddenly The Flash is standing next to you guys. “I can answer that.”

Wally grins insanely wide, making sure you’re steady against Dick before jumping to hug his former mentor. 

“How did you know I was here?” He asks. 

Barry smiles, “I could feel it. In the speedforce. There was a huge amount of energy released and then for the first time in a year, I could feel you.”

“But how did that happen?” Dick interjects, before adding, “not that we’re not happy to see you.” 

Wally goes back to hugging you, wiping off the tears that have slipped from your eyes and kissing the top of your forehead. “I think y/n here somehow borrowed my speed and-and opened a portal into the speedforce.”

“I brought you back?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely a whisper. 

“You brought me back!” He’s beaming at you. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, spinning you in a circle. He sets you down on the ground, only to tip your head back and plant a kiss to your lips. It’s intense, passionate, full of the longing he’s felt for you since you were kids. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using him to keep yourself up. His body is so warm and hard under your touch, so familiar to you. You draw him closer, not even caring if Dick and Barry are standing there staring at you. 

When he finally pulls away, he flashes you the biggest smile in the world. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“So,” Dick awkwardly says, “why don’t we take this back to our place?”

Wally grabs your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “I think that’s a really good idea.”

[mischiefmanifold]

How Do My Autism, PDs, and DID Interact/Intertwine?

Disorders mentioned in this post: autism spectrum disorder (ASD), attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), tourette syndrome (TS), fetal alcohol spectrum disorder (FASD), dissociative identity disorder (DID), antisocial personality disorder (ASPD), narcissistic personality disorder (NPD), and schizotypal personality disorder (STPD)

(This post was requested by a mutual, I hope you find this (somewhat) helpful and I apologize for taking a million years to post it 🙃)

I have a whole host of disorders, pretty much all of which affect my personality, identity, and way I interact with the world around me. A lot of people look at the combinations of disorders I have and tell me I can't possibly have them (this is especially popular with autism and ASPD, as well as autism and STPD), when I do in fact have them and they suck ass.

To begin with, since I have DID, my other disorders vary drastically in symptoms from alter to alter. It is important to note that individuals with DID will likely only be diagnosed with other disorders alongside DID if most or all of the frequently fronting alters show symptoms and those symptoms impair the whole. Disorders like autism, Tourette, ADHD, and FASD are system-wide disorders due to the nature of their development. Personality disorders are usually diagnosed at the discretion of the therapist or psychiatrist who is doing the diagnosis.

My combination of autism, NPD, and ASPD resulted in an individual who lacks essentially all empathy, is very isolated, and is really sensitive to perceived slights or criticisms.

I have the psychopathic subtype of ASPD, which means that even if I didn't have NPD I would have narcissistic traits. Alongside heightened NPD traits, I am also more prone to violence and aggression (it is important to note that most psychopaths and individuals with ASPD are not criminals or extremely aggressive). Features of psychopathy that I display are typical antisocial behaviors (disregard for societal norms and rules, essentially), increased aggression and violence, lack of empathy and remorse/guilt, and manipulative and deceitful behaviors.

When it comes to autism and ASPD, the only real trait my presentation has in common is a lack of empathy. Communication problems can arise for individuals who have both disorders, but for different reasons (my ASPD communication problems are almost exclusively related to my disregard for others and lack of remorse; while my autistic communication problems stem from a fundamental misunderstanding of social norms, sarcasm, facial expressions, gestures, and figurative language). Individuals who have ASPD will not experience any developmental delays like autism (delayed speech, social ineptitude, etc.).

My ASPD and NPD go hand-in-hand pretty well. The earliest memory I have of exhibiting antisocial behaviors is at age 8 when I would repeatedly steal candy from my friend's school locker because I felt I deserved it more than her; the theft just escalated from there. I was very good at getting people angry with me so I could take out my anger on them.

I don't feel that my autism and NPD really have that much in common, honestly.

If you would like to learn more about ASPD, its history, and the psychopathic subtype of ASPD, please visit this site: https://psychopathyis.org/what-is-a-psychopath/

[dwn024]

hii i was wondering if you have any good resources or tips for y2k styled background patterns/elements? i wanted to look at stuff for some inspo but i've got a lot of trouble figuring out the right search terms and stuff to find specifically what i'm looking for... you're The Y2K Mutual in my head so i was hoping you might be able to help out? XP

YOU HAVE COME TO THE RIGHT MAN MY DEAR FRIEND

first off, in general when it comes to Y2K design research [and really any any historical aesthetic design from 1960s-present] i always love to point people towards the consumer aesthetics research institute

it is the most useful research on this subject you will probably ever find because it is VERY well organized, well researched, they're the ones that coin basically all the aesthetic names that the aesthetic fandom wiki uses, and at some point since the last time i checked the site they added a new search feature that lets you filter by relevant decade!

now for Y2K type shit you might be tempted to search for resources from "the 2000s", but the Y2K futurism aesthetic was actually already on its way out by 2003 [the decline officially started post-9/11] and many 2000s aesthetics are wayyyy more different than the Y2K futurism type visuals i specialize in. it's better to seek out things from the 90s, especially late 90s [1996-2000 is the general Peak Era for Y2K style design], but don't limit yourself to JUST the 90s! it's also extremely helpful to look at the decades that Inspired Y2K futurism, because the late 90s was nostalgic for the 60s and 70s, so a lot of design styles from those eras are useful to research too! i mean just look at space channel it is EXTREMELY 70s revival

Y2K futurism itself is its own distinct aesthetic style, but it's very connected in a web of other visual styles from the same era. plus, the term "Y2K" has been corrupted by bad SEO and people who don't know what they're talking about conflating it with mcbling, so just searching "Y2K" won't really net you anything very helpful. "Y2K futurism" or "cyber Y2K" are good search terms to start with!

besides just the classic Y2K style, here are some other similar/related styles that will help you branch out your research even further

disco deco [60s] *art deco revival combined with disco aesthetics. you can very clearly see its influence on Y2K when you look at a lot of the fonts; case in point bauhaus 93 AKA the homestar runner font

supergraphic ultramodern [60s] *very very influential on Y2K design trends especially with all the organic flowing shapes

corporate gen-X cyber [90s]

gen X soft club [90s]

metalheart [90s]

vectorheart [90s] ***my personal favorite and probably what you think of when you think of flat Y2K graphics and UI

ultramodern revival [90s] *revival of supergraphic ultramodern with Y2K flair

frutiger aero [00s] *USE AS INSP WITH CAUTION. this style sprung into being AFTER the Y2K style had already waned, but since history is more like a gradient than a checkerboard, very very early examples of frutiger aero overlap with Y2K and contain similar design elements. still, if you're going to look into it, try to stick to the earliest possible examples, especially since Later frutiger aero starts to look very apple minimalist in a way i can't stand

mcbling [00s] *same as above, WITH MORE ANGRY PASSION THIS TIME!!!! Y2K futurist fashion is WAY different from mcbling, but more casual everyday fashion styles from 1998-2003 are fairly similar/precursors to mcbling, but mcbling and Y2K are NOT the same and should NOT be conflated. mcbling's real popularity began After the death of Y2K, so they weren't exactly The Big Thing at the exact same time

^all of the above can be found on the CARI website with plenty of example pictures. thank you for coming to me with this question if you have any further questions do not hesitate to ask i would be happy to help^_^

[llyfrenfys]

I knew you were based in Aberystwyth, but I didn’t know you were linked with the university, or the Celtic Studies course for that matter either, which is a course I’m planning to apply for!

I’m not sure whether this is overstepping, but I was wondering if you have any advice for academic enrichment in the mean time- I have limited knowledge of Welsh itself because even though my dad can speak it, I was never really taught it. I went to the uni open day, and they recommended ‘Say Something in Welsh’ which looks like a really good resource, and I was wondering if you knew any sites (or books!) which could be good to further look into, especially if you know where I could find medieval Welsh literature in modern Welsh online.

Also, I’m interested in Welsh history and language conservation, and if you have any book recommendations on those I’d definitely check them out!

Sorry for the long ask, I hope this finds you well

I'm so sorry anon that I'm getting to this so late (it's been months -mae'n ddrwg gyda fi!) but I will try and answer some of your questions now.

The Celtic Studies department at Aberystwyth is really lovely and quite small so everyone kinda knows each other. My Welsh teacher and personal tutor was Simon Rodway - he's a really lovely guy and was the first member of staff I shared my chosen name with (he helped me find out how to change my name on the Uni systems to my chosen name as well).

I've heard good things about SaySomethingInWelsh - the Uni also does (in the Celtic Studies department) intense summer courses in Welsh in person and online (I did mine online because pandemic) with DysgyCymraeg, who I also recommend. I have a post about free Welsh learning resources here:

For Medieval Welsh literature in Modern Welsh - dafyddapgwilym.net has a collection of Dafydd ap Gwilym's poetry in the original Middle Welsh, Modern Welsh and in English translation. Just click Cymraeg or English, go to Y Cerddi/The Poems and select a poem from the drop-down menu. More options will come up when you do this (including notes and where you can find the manuscripts the poems are from). I'm not usually a Medievalist so I'm gonna ask if any of my followers/mutuals have any recommendations for this.

For Welsh language conservation- (or language conservation in general) I would check out the module "Language Revitalisation in a Global Context" - usually run by Ben (another really sound lad from the department who teaches Irish and Scottish Gaelic) - I think that module is available in Second and/or Third year. But I do recommend it!

Apologies for answering this so late - feel free to send another message if you have any more questions.

Cofion gorau!

[vibratingskull]

About your last response, i love Thurfian. I wish people would write for him more. I wish I could write for him but I am useless with words, especially since I struggle with finding words in English since it's not my native language. I applaud you for managing that!

DUDE, GIRLY, NON BINARY ROYALTY!!!!!!!

You should totally go for it.

That's litterally the best advice I can give you, it's to go for it!!! I'm going to be fully honest : the firsts chapters are going to be crap and that is perfectly OKAY!

I cannot for the life of me reread my first ever chapters because they're bad but you know what? I still love them dearly because they're part of my writer journey.

Writing is such a pleasure I highly advise you to give it a try, even in your own language at first to find your footing and then switch to english.

You should use and abuse of all sites like Reverso, Google traduction, lingee, Wordreference and Grammarly, etc...

To get the jist of writing in english you need first to read in english. When I started to read fanfiction there was no SW fanfic in my language so I translated EVERY fics that caught my eyes with Google translate, PARAGRAPH BY PARAGRAPH.

It was long and tedious BUT NOTHING could stand before me and fanfics. And I read and read and read until i stop using google translate without even realizing it. I owe my current english level to fanfics and not school, school did jack shit for my english, its 100% my hyperfixation on fics that did all the work.

So if you are reading in english, CONGRATS! This already a big step. Read and read until you are comfortable to not use a translator or use it less.

Then try with a simple fic. Pick your favorites characters, your favorite trope and give it a try! Write it for yourself! Publish it if you want, but don't write it trying to please everyone. We can feel when a writer don't like what they write, so write for yourself, make it super duper self indulgent, screw everyone else!!!

I write for myself and what I like and just hope to cross paths with other degenerate that will like my stuff. If I don't like a chapter I rewrite it, if I don't like a request I tweak it or throw it to the bin, if I don't like a pairing I banish it from my sight.

Ask around if someone could be your beta reader, ask tumblr mutuals, ask discord friends, put on your big pants and ask other established Fanfic writers in the fandom! Don't be afraid to ask for help.

That's what I can tell you.

I would love to welcome you in the fanfic writer club my dear❤️Especially if you write for Thurfian 👀 We need more Thurfian lovers in this fandom!

But you should write because you enjoy it, that's the most important.

[soulrph]

hiii i'm new ( in a way ) to twitters rpc and idk how to ,,, exist here ??? like ,,, idk hiw to explain it 😭

hi my angel! do you mean twitter or tumblr? because i have exactly zero experience with twitter, but i'm also gonna be presumptuous as hell and assume it's tumblr! so here we go! i'm going to add a list of terms and definitions below the cut, so bear with me, and i may do a part 2 of this bc like. lads. ladies. legends. the tumblr rpc is terrifying and complicated for new friends. it's still terrifying and complicated for everyone, really, but we just adjusted! i digress:

literally everyone you will ever meet on this site has been where you are. it's a daunting experience to try and exist on a new site, especially if you have limited experience or contact with friends on this site, too! i knew one person who helped me adjust to the site, and after that, i was on my own!

i spent my first six months figuring out rules, icons, and my bio page for my character. that seems like a long time, but i started my blog, recklessly, during my first year of college! it took six months to figure out what rules i wanted for myself. did i have any triggers or squicks? did i have any banned fandoms or characters? i explained my limited activity, i added my age, my alias, my timezone, and basic things like that, but most of my inspiration actually came from reading other people's rules pages!

whenever i followed new people, i made sure to read their rules page first. now, nobody is going to expect you to remember EVERY SINGLE RULES PAGE you ever read! that's crazy! you might read a hundred different lists of rules and more, and you're human, so you will forget things! but the rules pages often include an age limit lately. so, "don't follow if you're under eighteen/twenty one/twenty five/etc." is a popular thing, you absolutely HAVE to obey that, and if they add more requests, like "don't follow if you're part of X fandom, or if you use these face claims, or if you write this character", or "don't follow me if you write with these blogs". you do need to follow those, but here's the good news: you make that decision the minute you see the blog. you don't need to remember those rules further down the line, aside from the banned blogs, and then you just look back over some rules. but i firmly believe that nobody should be taking offence over people forgetting some of the rules they read. i have 300 mutuals on my blog; you think i'm gonna remember 300 rules pages??? not a hope!

now. once you follow someone, and they follow you back, you are mutuals. you are NOT mutuals if you follow them, and they don't follow back, or if you don't follow them, but they follow you! similarly, you are NOT obligated to follow absolutely everyone who follows you! follow the people you find interesting and who have good vibes! don't let the rules pages scare you away; many people use a different tone of language in their rules pages to express the seriousness of following the rules, but beyond the rules page, they're actually perfectly lovely!

now! for things like icons and graphics? you don't actually need them. you don't need a promo, really, either. fortunately for us all, tumblr is entering an era where icons are just like, a nice extra bit. they don't really do anything. they're just pretty pictures of our characters to add a little something to our replies in threads. (again, my beloved, these definitions will be below the readmore thing, so don't stress yourself over the definitions!)

and now for the actual roleplay bit! so on this blog, and many other meme source blogs, we provide short and long lists of writing prompts for the rpc and writers to inspire some threads or passages of writing. in addition to this, there are starter calls! they're very useful, you just make a little post that says "like this post and i'll tag you in a starter!" and then if someone likes the post, you can write them a little starting point for a thread. so, my other blog will be used as an example: if @soulprompts liked a starter call, i would write them a little thing (it can be a one-liner or a paragraph or however long you like!) and tag them by using the @ button, and then their url. so in this case, my url is soulmemes, their url is soulprompts, so it's @soulprompts . like that! then they reply, and i reply, and the resulting series of replies will be called a thread!

now! my final addition here, before this post gets too long, is this: many people use features known as @xkit-extension-blog and @new-xkit-extension to adjust their experiences of the dash. you should download both of them, and you should download "EDITABLE REBLOGS" on the normal xkit, and "MUTUAL CHECKER" on the new xkit. it's very easy to do that! these just make it easier to trim your threads and to see who's following you back, respectively. i can add another post if you want me to, my angel, this is very rushed and i'm worried it's too much information at once!

GLOSSARY!

RULES PAGE: a page where you keep your rules for your blog! many people use google docs for this, and add a link to a pinned post at the top of their blog for ease of use. these rules are variable and depend on your preferences! they should include an age, an alias, maybe some pronouns, and any off-limits content. so "i don't want to write angst", or "don't interact with me if you write any characters from this fandom" or something like that. honestly, if you read other rules pages, they're very very useful in terms of guidance to making your own page!

BIO PAGE: a page where you provide information about your character! if your character is an original character, i.e. your own creation, not found in any public lore, then you need to provide information so people can educate themselves about your character! it doesn't need to be overly long; you can list the important things and add to it as you go along!

VERSES: so most, if not all characters have different verses. so if you take shrek as an example, some verses for shrek could be "before the first shrek movie" or "during the first shrek movie" and so on, so forth. many people get very creative with these, so you could have your character enter new fandoms! so, to keep using shrek as an example, shrek might have a marvel verse, where he's a mutant who turns down an offer to work with professor xavier and proceeds to tend to an onion farm in his swamp while more mutants turn to him for help. it can be wild and wacky or it can be serious, it doesn't matter, once you like the verses!

MUSE/MUN: you are a mun! a mun is the person behind the blog, the real life person who turns on their computer and logs into tumblr. i am also a mun! your muse is your character! so in this example, my muse is hypothetically shrek. some people write on multi-muse blogs, where they write more than one muse!

ORIGINAL CHARACTER/CANON CHARACTER: canon characters are characters who are established in publicly available lore. like shrek! shrek and fiona are canon characters! but if i decided to write another muse in the morning, shrek's sister, re-shrek-a, then she's considered an original character, because she is not established in the public lore of shrek. she is made up entirely by me, so she's my original creation, hence an original character, or OC.

ICONS/PROMOS/BANNERS/GRAPHICS: basically some people are insanely talented at photoshop and whatnot, and they make little images of their character's face claim or some banners to title their posts with. icons can be any size at all! icons and other graphics aren't necessary, if you don't want to make them, that's fine! some people run commission blogs where you can give them money and they'll make you icons and banners and promo graphics for you, if that's more up your alley!

STARTERS/PLOTS/SHIPS: a starter is the starting point of a thread, a plot is something that takes place between you and your writing partner where you decide what will happen in a thread together, and a ship is a relationship between two muses; it can be platonic, romantic, enemies, anything at all! starter calls are posts you make where people like the post and you can make those people some starters. plotting calls are the same, but if someone likes the post, you can chat to them to discuss some plots together! shipping calls are the same, but instead of starters and plots, people who like the post are free to discuss the possibility of a ship with your muse!

MEMES/PROMPTS: finally, memes and prompts are the same thing. they're lists of writing prompts to inspire threads with new friends! i write a bunch of them here and on @soulpromptsts ! there are many meme blogs, however, such as @leneemusing and @ohisms and @nightprompts to name just a few!

[exhausted-impact]

Event Task: The NXX on Tumblr

Just a quick note: This set is headcanons for the guys of the NXX only. As for Rosa’s Tumblr...I don’t want to generalize especially since we all have different interpretations of Rosa’s likes/dislikes/interests. But that aside...

This is my first time writing...anything that isn’t a work email in a while, ngl  (((＞＜))) But I hope you all like it~!

(Keeping it under a cut in case you want to scroll on by, and that’s okay too. Have a wonderful day~)

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Artem Wing

- Somehow lucked out on username ‘mockingbird’

- Blog title is derived from one of his favorite movies

- Blog aesthetic? Who is she? Keeps it simple, clean and business-like...until a mysterious follower (read: Celestine) offers to help him change it to a cinema-esque aesthetic

- Definitely a movie-centered blog, with a few rare food posts...all original, no reblogs

- Posts movie reviews, various analyses (e.g. themes, cinematography), cast interviews and behind-the-scenes shenanigans

- Will interact if someone has an ask/reply to his reviews, but other than that, not really active on Tumblr...except to shut down + block the occasional troll/bot/pr0n0 blog

- Has a ton of followers, all looking forward to his bi-weekly posting...Kiki follows him as well, blissfully unaware her boss is one of her favorite bloggers

- Mutually follows only three blogs, Celestine’s, MC’s/Rosa’s and Luke’s...Vyn and Marius are still in denial that he has one in the first place

Vyn Richter

- Username most likely related to psychology (e.g. ‘nietzcheisms’)

- Name of the blog is written in Svart, a word with deep meaning to him

- Nature-type aesthetic, for sure...may or may not have taken a coding class to get it exactly how he wants it to look like

- Posts more suited for an Instagram account with the amount of Aesthetics (TM)

- Blog is filled with moodboards (most likely cottagecore or royalcore), with the occasional psychology-related post...also enjoys reblogging stimboards

- Active on Tumblr, but prefers to lurk + like instead of interact

- Lots of influencer-types follow him...Marius does too, but has the tags for psychology posts blocked...the list grows as Vyn changes the tags often

- Mutually follows a handful of aesthetic blogs, MC’s/Rosa’s and Marius’s blogs...one such aesthetic blog belonging to one Vincent Kim

Marius von Hagen

- Has two blogs: one for fanart (main), and one for classical art (sideblog)

- Definitely has ‘Z’ in his username (e.g. ‘artizts-alley’), alt username includes the name of a museum/gallery he frequents

- Blog title of main is just Z...the other is from one of his yet-to-be-revealed pieces (which will immediately change when he does release it)

- Changes up his blog aesthetic every quarter for both main + side, has Luke check the coding beforehand in case he mixes the two

- Fanart blog is chaotic, original posts + reblogs of works from at least hundreds of fandoms...reblogs have tons of praise and comments in the tags and replies

- Classical art blog is tamer, no tags except artist + piece names, year painted, medium used to paint, and technique executed

- Main and side blogs are both pretty big names on the site, main is always loaded with submissions, chats and asks on the daily

- Mutually follows a lot of artists (regularly reblogs and commissions them), Luke, Vyn, and MC/Rosa...first followed Giann’s blog when he made the account

Luke Pearce

- Honestly struggled with a name (agent-themed? bird-themed?), but MC/Rosa helped him keep it simple (e.g. ‘agent-peanut’)

- Most dedicated to sticking with tag rules among the NXX, has several tags for different posts but never mixes them up

- Has the most complicated coding for blog appearance...style is straight out of a Sherlock Holmes novel, except for the cursor which looks like Orb!Peanut

- Definitely an animal-centered blog! Most posts and reblogs consist of animal pictures and videos, but will occasionally sneak in a Sherlock Holmes or video game post here and there

- MC/Rosa once posted an audio of him singing to Peanut as a prank, but it became so popular to the point that followers wonder when the next post will be (see also: never, sorry)

- Runs a pretty popular sideblog with Aaron as co-admin, dedicated to all things puzzles, riddles and mysteries

- Tagging and linking system is an absolute mess, but can always remember exactly what tags he uses for all his posts

- The only one who follows all of the NXX members alongside MC/Rosa, will occasionally spam their chats/asks/submissions if they happen to be late to an NXX meeting and they’re not answering their phones

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Dedicating this to @babylulururu and @actualbird  ( ´ ω ` ) Thanks for everything so far!

[kojiscorner]

🎧 😀 💖

MUNDAY ASKS! (ACCEPTING)

🎧 — do you write while listening to music/podcasts/videos/etc, or do you need total silence?

I most often write sort of with whatever ambient sound is around me, but I do at times listen to music to help myself get into the right mindset. This especially works when I have either a personally curated playlist for a character/dynamic or someone I am writing with has made one for their end of things.

😀 — are there any rpc mutuals that you’ve met irl before?

A couple, yes! The first of which actually is no longer on site anymore, and the meeting sparked a friendship that at this stage has little to nothing to do with tumblr at all funny enough.

💖 — what was one of the greatest/happiest moments you’ve had in the rpc?

Let me preface by saying I hope I get this one multiple times from people because I have plenty of incredible moments to choose from my time not just on Tumblr, but way before it.

I'll be happy and make this first one the moment that started it all:

Many, many, many moons ago in the ancient times I used to frequent these long forgotten spaces known as Yahoo user created rooms. It was 2004, I'd just gotten an instant messenger for the first time and was enamored by it all. I'd also recently been introduced to the concept of creating a persona and going online and pretending to be someone else while writing stories with other people who are doing the same. User created rooms were a veritable wild wild west of people doing so, and I remember stumbling into one that had styled itself as a cliche high fantasy style tavern. At the time, my introduction to the entire practice was on the auspice of writing out fights (even then I loved writing action scenes) and was being an annoying 14yr old going 'anybody wanna spar???' Ad nauseum. Eventually, one of the 'patrons' saw fit to message me directly and in no uncertain terms let me know no one was interested in that. What ensued funny enough was a conversation in which we both kind of clicked with each other and I suddenly had my first ever RP partner. It was in writing with them that Kojiko Kanasuke, my very namesake, was first crafted.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

A Birthday Threesome for ‘Suki (Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"Two pretty sluts for the price of one? Lucky me."

Pairing: Pro!Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader x Your Fem!Best Friend

Synopsis: In which you and your best friend decide to help your man see the joy in birthdays by giving him a threesome. Also, Bakugou likes butt plugs. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUBBY 🎈

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Sub to Dom!Bakugou, Dom to sub!Fem!Reader, Race of Reader not Specified, Threesome, Birthday Sex, Anal Play, Food Play, Prostate Massaging, Edging, Double Blowjob, Mild Girl on Girl (just kissing), Spit Play, Cunnilingus, Multiple Positions, Unprotected PIV, Squirting, Creaming, Fingering, Overstimulation, Mild Degradation, Three Way Kissing, Cum Eating, Creampies, Facials, Dirty Talk, Three Way Cuddle

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I'm uploading this ahead of time cuz it’s my boy’s birthday!! 🥳🥳 This one is kinda different, but I hope y’all like it! Enjoy! 🥰 -Jazz

*********

Bakugou had never been the one for birthdays. 

It’s not like he hated them, he’s told you once before while sitting in the spring sun for a picnic. “I just don’t see the hype with ‘em,” he said when you asked about it. “So what I turned a year older than I was last year? So what I’m still on this fuckin’ earth? What’s the big deal?” 

“But birthdays are something to celebrate!” You had protested, which he thought was cute. “The way I see it, you can either be a year older while alive or you could be a year older six feet under. Birthdays are for celebrating with the people you love.” 

“And I do,” he had argued. “I celebrate with you, don’t I?” You hummed indifferently as he rubbed your feet that were settled in his lap. “Look, babe, I get it; you like the surprise parties and birthday cakes and razzle-dazzle. I don’t need all that shit. I don’t even need a card.” 

His response had definitely rubbed you the wrong way. To you, birthdays were a time of celebration! To be on this earth for a certain number of years, especially with the shit the economy, capitalism, and COVID brought, was an accomplishment in itself. And to be able to celebrate another birthday with your man was even better! 

So, being the loving, great girlfriend you were, of course, you’d think of the best way to turn your man’s frown upside down and show him the beauty of birthdays. And what better way to do that than to plan a birthday threesome? 

Yes, a birthday threesome. 

You and Bakugou had always been a kinky couple. Anything that you could bring into the bedroom that the both of you could enjoy, you’d do it. Handcuffs and rope? Tried ‘em. Blindfolding? Temperature play? Most definitely. Bakugou loved you calling him “daddy” and seeing you squirm underneath him as he edged you to oblivion (being the asshole he is). 

But what he loved more than anything was to submit to you, too. He never expressed it to your mutual friends or tried to show it as much, but you knew he loved it when you took full control over him. His body, his mind, and his cock were all yours for the night to bend to your will. Add in a butt plug and some pegging, and he was ready to give you everything. 

However, the thought of having another person you could watch break him apart and share in that domination was hotter than you initially realized before coming up with your deviously-hot birthday surprise. 

You and Bakugou had discussed a threesome before, but Bakugou was very possessive. He’d be ready to blast someone to space for just looking at you. Plus, you didn’t know where to even look for the best third piece…until you did. 

Your best friend. A woman who was just as hot as you and whom you trusted wholeheartedly. A woman who also happened to have a secret attraction to your boyfriend that she confessed to you over cocktails one night. A woman you’ve caught Bakugou subtly checking out a few times during social outings…but obviously not subtle enough. 

You’d never been angered at him for it, especially when he’d shown you many times before that you were the only woman for him. “I belong to you,” he’d say to you, his sweaty forehead to yours, cock buried deep inside of you. So the idea of sharing such a hunk with someone who also was attracted to him would be much hotter than you initially thought. 

When you’d come to her with the idea, she’d first look at you like you were insane. “You sure?” she’d ask, uncertain about this. But after some reassurance on your end, she’d be ecstatic to be a part of your birthday surprise. Just imagine it now, how’d it all pan out: 

The day of Bakugou’s birthday, you’d pepper him in kisses and make him his favorite banana pancakes that morning before shooing him out the door for a spa day before he could initiate birthday sex.

“A $100 Hand & Stone coupon?” he’d grumble when you handed him the card, scowling at you. “Babe, I told you that you didn’t–” 

“Hush!” you’d say, pressing a finger to his plump lips. “Every hero needs a little relaxation, so this is yours. You need a massage.” His vermillion eyes would twinkle mischievously. “I need a massage, alright,” he’d growl, pressing your hand to his groin. “Think you can help me with that?” 

Ignoring him, you’d shoo him out the door of your shared apartment. When he finally begrudgingly left for nearly two hours of relaxation, you’d spend the whole day prepping for tonight. You’d clean the apartment from top to bottom, fix Bakugou his favorite dinner, leave it in the fridge for later, and call up your friend to tell her to come over. She’d arrive, happy to help you prepare for everything. 

“You sure we have time?” she’d ask, grabbing some lemon pledge to wipe down the counters. 

“The spa treatment is an all-day special,” you’d explain as you swept. “He’ll be out for hours.” That answer was enough to reassure your friend that you’d have all the time in the world to clean and cook. 

When your man finally came home later that evening, relaxed from his massage, skin glowing from his seaweed mask, and feeling loose from the champagne the spa offered back to back, he’d walk in to find the apartment suspiciously empty. “Baby?” he’d call. “You in here? I’ll admit, that stupid ass spa treatment was nice.” 

You wouldn’t answer. Your lack of response would make Bakugou nervous and he’d contemplate calling you until he ventured into the kitchen and saw what’d lie for him on the kitchen counter. There would be a red velvet cake (his favorite flavor) sitting there adorned in buttercream frosting and decorated in red and orange flowers that appear to also look like fire blasts. On the top would be writing in red food coloring that read, “Happy Birthday Katsuki!” 

Bakugou would be confused yet touched. Did you do all of this while he was out? Before he could ponder on it more, he’d be taken aback by the faint scent of roses and soft giggling coming from upstairs. “Up here, babe!” you’d call. 

Filled with relief that you were safe (just hiding), Bakugou would venture up the steps. “What is all this?” he’d call you. “I told you, I didn’t need all this, baby, really.” But as he walked upstairs, his heart would pound methodically against his ribcage in anticipation of what was to come next. 

But nothing could’ve prepared him for what he found waiting for him in your shared master bedroom. When he pushed open the bedroom door, he’d find a trail of red rose petals leading right over to his birthday presents: you and your friend, sitting on the couch near the window overlooking the city lights, dressed in only the most expensive lingerie. 

Bakugou’s greedy eyes would trail over the skin exposed along with how well the lingerie filled out your bodies’ natural curves. The cups of your lace bras framed your breasts so nicely, and he could only imagine what the back looked like. Sitting on the floor by the couch was a bucket where a bottle of champagne and glasses sat, giving him the impression that tonight really was for celebrating…as if seeing you and your friend decked in lingerie wasn’t an indication enough. 

You smiled at him as he stood there frozen on the threshold of the bedroom. “Happy birthday, baby,” you’d purr. “Well? You gonna just stand there or are you gonna join us?”

Bakugou wouldn’t need to be told twice. The door would be closed and his shoes would be off immediately before he rushed to join you on the couch like he had lit his ass on fire. 

The rest of the night would play in flashes of ecstasy as a surprise after surprise unfolded: 

You and your friend would sit Bakugou down between you with a glass of chilled champagne and ask him if he wanted this, only moving forward when he gave you an enthusiastic growl of “fuck yes”. 

After giving each other a look of pure excitement over finally getting the pro out of his clothes, you and your friend would strip Bakugou out of his clothes, giggling at his sharp intakes of breath and swearing. “Someone’s excited,” you’d coo into his ear, grinning at the way he shivered. 

“You shittin’ me?” he’d growl as he watched your friend’s soft hands that looked so small compared to his unbuckle his belt. “I’ve got two of the prettiest women in my bedroom right now. Who the fuck wouldn’t be excited?” 

Once you’d get him out of his clothes, you’d watch your friend admire his muscled body like he is carved from granite stone. You wouldn’t blame her, especially with the way the silver moonlight would shine through the window and illuminate your boyfriend’s mouthwatering six-pack and the dragon tattoo crawling up his right ribcage. His thick, muscular thighs would be spread, giving both of you girls a good peek at the outline of his dick in his designer briefs. 

Seeing your friend stare Bakugou down like he was a masterpiece would turn you on more than you believed. Your pussy would gush knowing that the same man that is yours is so wanted by everyone else. It would turn you on even more to see Bakugou stare her down with the same lust–filled stare, the act of sharing him with another person arousing you further. 

“Go on,” you’d encourage your friend. “Touch him.” She’d give you an uncertain stare before Bakugou would lean back against the couch, allowing her perfect access to his body. You and your friend would then run your hands all over him–up and down his abs, over his biceps, caressing his warm skin. The low moans of appreciation Bakugou would make at feeling hands all over him would work their magic on both of you, filling you with anticipation and need. 

However, Bakugou was a greedy man, and he’d try to touch both of your asses looking so plump and full in your thongs. You and your friend would then make it very clear that you both are in control and not him by slapping his hands away when he tried to touch you. 

“Uh-uh, baby,” you’d purr, smiling sexily at his irritated scowl. “No touching…not yet. You’re ours right now, so just sit there and take what we give you like a good boy.” 

And shockingly enough, Bakugou would listen, too turned on to fuss. He’d do nothing but watch as you and your friend’s hands would caress his hardened bulge in his briefs, your lips on his neck; his chest; behind his ear. “That’s his sweet spot,” you’d whisper to your friend, giggling at your boyfriend’s soft gasp as you squeezed his shaft in his briefs. 

After some teasing and earning a wet spot at the tip of his dick, you and your friend would finally pull down his briefs. Like a sexy Jack-in-the-box, Bakugou’s cock would finally spring free–thick, long, curved, veiny, and so, so fucking hard. Your friend would stare wide-eyed at it before cooing to Bakugou, “You have a beautiful dick, Dynamight.” 

“Bet you wanna taste it,” you’d giggle. “That’s what these are for: to make it sweeter.” You’d then reach down into the chilled champagne bucket where you’d present a bottle of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream to Bakugou. He’d stare down at the goodies, perplexed. “Da fuck are those for?” he’d ask. 

“For you, silly,” you’d giggle as your friend excitedly clapped her hands. “C’mon, you’ll love it!” Bakugou continued to stare down at the condiments fit for ice cream. “It’s part of your surprise, babe,” you’d coo before pecking his lips. “Let us show you.” 

After coaxing him to sit back and enjoy his champagne, you and your friend would proceed to squirt chocolate syrup and whipped cream along his dick, giggling at the way he’d shiver at the coolness of the continents hitting his skin. “Don’t get any of this shit on my floor,” he’d growl. “Otherwise, you’re both gettin’ punished.” 

You and your friend would share a mischievous look before you’d look up at him, batting your lashes. “Is that a promise, daddy?” you’d purr before giving the tip of his dick a lick. The sugary scents of whipped cream and chocolate would hit your nose as the sweetness of both condiments hit your tastebuds. Bakugou sighed at the feeling. 

Two sets of wet hands would then wrap around Bakugou’s dick, stroking him up and down, the tender skin of his shaft moving along with your hands and smearing the sugary-sweet continents around his shaft. He’d groan and moan at the feeling of your soft little hands on him, his head tilted back against the couch and eyes closed. 

After warming up, you and your friend would each share a turn with your mouths on his cock–sucking, licking, and slurping up the whipped cream, syrup, and precum bubbling at the head. Bakugou would stare at your two pretty mouths slurping up his dick, tongues sensually caressing the head and shaft, through hooded, red slits. 

“You both look so beautiful,” he’d whisper breathlessly, chest heaving rapidly and slowly losing it at seeing you both on your knees, chocolate and cream all over your mouths and lips. 

You smile up at him in thanks before taking his balls coated in whipped cream into his mouth, lightly sucking on each as your friend licked and sucked along the bulbous head of his cock. “You taste so good, baby,” you’d moan through his balls in his mouth. “Even without the chocolate or the cream.” Bakugou’s toes would curl and his moans would be loud, echoing along the bedroom walls. 

You’d later go further and have him in your throat, gagging along the head, dribbling saliva down to his balls that your friend would generously fondle as you deepthroated him. “Doesn’t she look so good, Dynamight?” she’d purr. “Doesn’t your girl look so nice with your cock in her throat?” 

Then it’d be her turn. You’d teach her how to slowly take him into her mouth before gagging on his cock shoved deep down her throat. You’d gently push her head down to take more of him, demanding that Bakugou watch another girl take your cock. “Watch her,” you’d whisper to him. “You think she’s better than me? Does her throat feel good, ‘Suki?” 

Bakugou wouldn’t shut up, too deep in euphoria to silence himself. He’d be losing his shit when your friend finally popped off of his cock with a gasp, her mouth wet and dripping in spit and chocolate. You two would then proceed to kiss with his wet dick sandwiched between your mouths. There would be nothing but the lewd sound of breathless moans and wet slurps as you erotically made out, tongues swirling and soft lips caressing his shaft. 

The erotic sight would be too much for him. “Gonna cum!” he’d warn you in a strained voice. “C-Can’t stop it! Gonna…ah!”

When he finally came, it’d be messy and quick, spurts of cum spilling out of his cock that would splash all over your hands and mouths. He’d sound straight out of a porno, his whimpers and grunts making your toes curl. 

You and your friend would greedily slurp up his cum from your lips and lick it off your hands, giggling at how messy your man is. “Naughty boy,” you’d mockingly scold him. “You made such a mess!” Your hands and lips would be sticky with whipped cream, chocolate, and his cum–a yummy combination. 

“Now you’re gonna have to be punished,” your friend would purr, helping you stand to your feet. Bakugou would stare up at the both of you, helpless and spent. 

You’d then coax him up from the couch and lead him over to the king-sized bed where you’d already have the other half of his birthday surprise laid out for him on the black, satin sheets: strawberry-flavored, warming lube and his favorite glass buttplug would sit there, causing Bakugou’s eyes to widen when he realized what was happening. 

You’d instruct him to lie down, giggling when he immediately gets onto his hands and knees, his plump ass from years of squats and training looking so appetizing. You and your friend would then climb onto the bed and take some time to warm Bakugou up. You’d graze your nails along his muscles; kiss his neck and lips; fondle his overly-sensitive balls.

Then you’d each squirt some lube onto your fingers before gently prepping and probing Bakugou’s tight, puckered hole, both of your pussies growing wet at the high-pitched whines and whimpers that would leave his pretty, pink lips. “Such a good boy,” you’d coo to him. “You’re doing so good for us, ‘Suki.” 

Your friend would reach under to fondle Bakugou’s heavy balls as you slowly, gingerly, inserted the buttplug into Bakugou’s ass, moaning wantonly at his whines and pitiful moans. “God!” he’d shout, his usually raspy, deep voice going up several octaves than usual. 

You and your friend who would take turns pumping the buttplug in and out of his tight hole, paying close attention to his body language when you brush against his prostate. You’d relish the way he’d writhe against the bedsheets, fisting them so hard that his knuckles turn stark white. His back would arch, pushing his ass up further, allowing you to plunge the plug deeper. 

Then you’d switch, giving yourself a break and a chance for your friend to make him moan like a bitch in heat. You’d then wrap your hand around his cock and pump it, your hand slick with lube and Bakugou’s precum, as you press your lips against his ear. “Happy birthday, baby,” you’d whisper, nibbling at his earlobe. 

The second orgasm would be messier than the first. Bakugou would be whining, begging, pleading either one of you for release. “T-Too much!” he’d sob into the mattress. “Please! Please just fuckin’ make me cum!” 

Your friend would giggle giddily at the change in his demeanor, still fucking his asshole with the butt plug. “Alright, ‘Suki,” you’d coo to him. “It is your birthday, after all. So cum for us like a good little boy. You don’t wanna disappoint my friend, do you?” 

As you’d cup his balls and turn your slow strokes into fast pumps, Bakugou wouldn’t be able to take so much stimulation and would cum all over your hand and the sheets below.

“Cumming!” he’d whine, a string of high-pitched moans and whimpers leaving his pillowy-soft, pink lips formed in an O. His pretty face would be screwed in ecstasy, cheeks red and eyes squeezed tight as his second orgasm hit him like a freight train. 

You’d silently encourage your friend to continue to stroke his prostate as you slowed your handjob down, bringing him to the brink of insanity from the overstimulation. “No more!” he’d groan. “Too much! C-Can’t…can’t…!” 

And you’d make him cum again, this one just as strong and as messy. Nut would paint the black sheets white, spurt all over your hand, and drip along his balls that would become sticky from it. Finally, you and your friend would stop, allowing the pro to recover. Seeing him so vulnerable, helpless, and spent would have your bodies beginning to be the vulnerable and helpless ones for a change. 

Bakugou would have the same idea after you fetched him some water and laid his head in your lap while your friend stroked her fingers down his arms and legs. “That was…fuckin’ amazing,” he’d heave, making you both giggle. 

“You did so well for us, baby,” you’d coo into his ear, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so happy you enjoyed your birthday.” 

Bakugou would then sit up, his exhaustion gone and his personality flipping in a wink. He’d give you both a dark, devious, lust-filled stare that would have your hearts pounding and pussies wet, because you’d know what would come next. “It ain’t over yet,” he chuckled. “What, you thought tonight was over? After all, I’ve gotta enjoy my birthday gifts, don’t I?” 

And then, in the blink of an eye, he’d be forcing you and your friend onto your backs, side by side, staring up into his vermillion eyes and mischievous grin. “So,” he’d huff, “you slutty girls wanna play with me, huh? Question is, who do I take first?” 

A nervous smile would curl on your lips and you’d turn to your friend, sharing that same look of anxiousness and excitement. “Guess I’ll just have to take both of you then,” Bakguou would growl. “Teach you both a fuckin’ lesson for playin’ with me.” 

And mind you, the butt plug would still be in his ass during all of this. 

You’d barely of time to process what was happening before Bakugou is tossing your legs over his shoulders and plunging his tongue deep in your pussy while he stroked and petted your friend’s pussy. Her whines and moans would arouse you even more than Bakugou’s skillful mouth, causing you to gush all over his quick tongue that flicked over your clit. “‘S-Suki, please!” you’d beg. “Slow down!” 

But he wouldn’t stop. He’d keep going until he brought the both of you to your first orgasms that you’d share in unison. “Cum for me,” he’d growl into your cunt. “Both of you sluts fuckin’ cum for me!” 

And with a gasp followed by a moan of his name, you would. You’d burst all over the sheets and his mouth as your friend would cum all over his calloused fingers. After that first round, he’d switch. You’d then have his fingers toying with your needy little clit while his mouth was on your friend’s pussy, her legs spread wide for him and mouth open on a moan. 

“Just look at your girl, babe,” he’d sadistically chuckle, staring down at your friend in her fucking world. “You been teaching her, haven’t you? Your slutiness rubbed off on her, didn’t it?” 

His fingers would leave your clit to tweak at your nipple, pinching the hard peak until sparks filled your body. “Y-Yes, daddy,” you’d whine. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to give you a great birthday.” 

Bakugou’s eyes would soften then, touched by your confession. “I know a way to thank you,” he’d growl before proceeding to rub your needy little clit to make you cum again as you tweaked your own nipples.

“Fuck, daddy, yes!” you’d practically scream as your friend moaned his name, cumming all over his mouth, lips, and stubbled chin, her hands in his platinum blonde hair. 

You’d watch as she cums, noticing her body tensing and legs shaking as Bakugou continued to slurp up her cum, sounding and looking like a starving man. His back muscles would ripple as he spread your friend’s thighs open wider, licking her right from the source as she weakly moaned and whimpered, complaining that she was “so sensitive”. You’d be able to tell he was enjoying this, and that made you enjoy it too. 

When he’d finally break away from your friend’s inner thighs, his lips, and chin would be shiny with her and your juices combined. He’d greedily lick his lips and suck his fingers, making your pussy impatiently clench around air despite just cumming. “Let’s say we play some more, hm?” he hums, smiling darkly at you. 

You and your friend, exhausted and spent, would look at each other, slightly terrified. Would you even realize what you’d be getting yourselves into? The answer would be unknown, but the idea of that would make you hotter and desperate for whatever your man had in mind. 

“What’d you have in mind, birthday boy?” you breathlessly asked, weakly sitting up to drag your nails up and down Bakugou’s thighs. Your friend would sit up too, making a move to touch him too, running her hands down his pectorals. 

That question would result in your friend on her stomach with his cock stuffed deep inside of her, her ass bouncing in time with his thrusts. You’d be beside her, Bakugou’s fingers curled inside of your wet pussy, fingerfucking you as he fucked your friend into oblivion. Breathless huffs of “fuck, fuck, fuck” would leave Bakugou’s lips as he drove his cock into your friend, again and again again. 

“Two pretty sluts for the price of one?” he’d huff, a crooked smile that drove you insane on his face. “Lucky me. It really must be my fuckin’ birthday.” 

He’d then grab a fistful of your friend’s hair and wrench her head back, just enough for him to reach her ear. “How’s it feel to be fuckin’ with a pro, huh, baby?” he’d whisper into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe. Seeing him tease another woman opposite of you would make you clench harder around his fingers. 

“S-so good, daddy!” your friend would moan, planting her face into the mattress. “Right there! Don’t stop!” You’d want to tell your man the same thing, but he didn’t seem like he was letting up any time soon. You’d bounce against the mattress in time with his thrusts, your tits bouncing and your mind going blank. 

“Such a pretty girl you are,” Bakugou would grunt into your friend’s air. “Such a good girl to make me feel so good with your best friend.” His hand would then caress her ass before giving it a spank, making her whimper as the sharp sound of his hand against her asscheek filled the air. 

“She planned this whole thing,” she’d whimper, staring at you with blissed-out tears in her eyes. “She really loves you, Dynamight. You should make her feel good, too.” 

Bakugou would shoot you a lustful yet adoring look as he curled his fingers up into your G-spot, making your toes curl and your voice catch in your throat at the sheer pleasure. “Oh, I plan on it. But first, I’m making you cum all over my dick.” 

And he would: after a few more merciless, precise thrusts, your friend would be creaming all over Bakugou’s cock the way he’d want her to. When he’d pull out, your friend’s cum would be dripping all over his balls and around his cock. “Clean it,” he’d growl to her to which she’d greedily move to slurp up every ounce of her cum off of his dick and balls. He’d reward her with an open-mouthed kiss. 

And then it’d be your turn: you’d be on your back, legs spread wide and pussy on display for him. Before sliding inside, he’d first duck down to pepper your face in kisses and nose nuzzles. “Thank you for tonight,” he’d whisper against your sweaty brow. “You’re the best fuckin’ girlfriend in the fuckin’ world.” 

Then, finally, he’d plunge his dick inside of you and begin to rock his hips into you, making you see stars. Beside you, your friend would lie, legs spread and moans bouncing off the walls as Bakugou plays with her pussy too. He wouldn’t let either one of you have a break. He’d continue to make you cum again and again until you were sobbing for him to stop, broken from the pleasure. 

As he’d rut his hips into you, he’d torture you with his words as his cock abused your pussy oh-so-good. 

“Who owns these fuckin’ pretty pussies?” he’d snarl. “Who’s gonna make you cum for the fourth fuckin’ time tonight?” 

When neither one of you are fast enough with your response, he’d wrap a hand around your throat and smack your friend’s pussy. “Say it! Say my fuckin’ name!” he’d bellow, his rasped voice echoing off of his bedroom walls. 

“You, Katsuki!” you’d sob as he pummeled into you, gasping around his hand encircling your throat. “You’re gonna make your good little sluts cum! Please, please make us cum, Daddy Dynamight!” 

That would make something snap in Bakugou because suddenly, he’d begin pounding into your pussy so quick and so roughly that his thrusts would send your pussy into hyperdrive with how mercilessly he was grazing your G-spot. Your friend would be facing the same treatment as Bakugou would continue to fingerfuck her senseless, his thumb generously rubbing her clit to orgasm. 

“Cum for me,” he’d demand. “Both of you be good girls for me and fuckin’ cum for me right now.” 

And you would. You and your friend would once again cum in unison as you’d explode all over Bakugou’s fingers and cock. You’d cum so much that you’d cream all over the sheets, making a mess of yourself as you clenched around your boyfriend’s cock. “Fuck, you got so tight,” he’d moan appreciatively. “Gonna make me cum too.” 

“Do it, daddy,” you’d beg. “Cum deep inside of me…but don’t forget to leave some for her.” Your friend would be there beside you, on her side and watching with astonishment as Bakugou pummeled into you again and again. You’d be grasping his shoulders for dear life as the bed springs bounced with how rough he was fucking you, still pummeling your G-spot and turning it to mush. 

Finally, with a gasp, Bakugou would reach his peak. “Fuck!” he’d shout before he’d clench you to his body, his fingers digging into your hips, as he’d cum deep, deep inside of you.

He’d fill you to the brim with rope after rope of hot cum, giving you the impression that he’d been needing it. You would weakly moan at the warm feeling flooding your pussy before he slowly pulled out of you, making the cum drip down your ass crack. 

“Still not done,” he’d grunt, pumping his wet cock in your face. He’d nod at your friend, crooking his finger in a “come hither” motion that seemed to drive you insane. 

Though both of you would be exhausted from cumming back to back and having Bakugou put you through the wringer, like two greedy, cum-hungry whores, you’d be sitting on your knees in front of him, hands flat on your thighs and tongues out. Bakugou would pump his semi-hard dick in your faces until he finally had a second mini-orgasm, groaning as spurts of cum were pumped onto your faces and waiting, heated tongues. A delirious giggle would leave your lips as you felt the hot spurts of nut splatter onto your face, tongue, cheeks, and tits. 

“Come here,” Bakugou would growl. “Both of you. Gimme those lips.” 

He’d lean down to kiss you both, leading to a three-way kiss as his tongue swirled with both of yours. He’d moan appreciatively at the taste of his cum on your mouths, earning soft, breathy moans from you in response. It’d be one of the hottest kisses you’d ever had in your life. 

Finally, after recovering from his orgasms, Bakugou would fetch you both some lavender-scented baby wipes which you’d gratefully use on your skin to wipe his cum off of your skin. Then he’d lie back against the pillows, abs, and flaccid cock on display for the both of you. He’d open his arms out, a crooked smile on his face. “What the fuck are you just sittin’ here for?” he’d ask. “Can’t end tonight without a three-way cuddle. Come here, girls.” 

Though suddenly feeling shy despite just having a fucking threesome, you’d crawl to your boyfriend and curl up on one side while your friend would take the other. Bakugou would sigh contently as he’d lie sandwiched between you, your tits pushing into his sides. “That was fuckin’ amazing,” he’d laugh. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life!” 

You and your friend would giggle in the quiet of your and Bakugou’s master bedroom. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you’d sigh, giddy with happiness at your plan being a success. “I certainly did.” 

“Me too,” your friend would reply, suddenly appearing shy as she traced shapes over Bakugou’s chest. 

“You know…if you’d ever want to do this again, I could definitely make a date for your next birthday, Dynamight.” 

You and Bakugou would share a look, shocked at her suggestion, but also extremely turned on. You’d share a smile before he’d turn to her, gripping her closer by her waist. “Call me Katsuki,” he’d purr to her. “And who said we had to wait till my next birthday?” 

“We have about two hours until midnight,” you said, looking at the clock. “Technically, your birthday isn’t done yet, ‘Suki.” 

At your words, you’d feel Bakugou’s cock suddenly lurch back to life against your thigh, hardening at the base. He’d smirk at you both, causing a pool of heat to make its way back into your aching pussy.

“Round two, ladies?” he’d ask, taking a handful of each of your asses and squeezing them. “After someone gets this fuckin’ plug outta my ass.” 

You and your friend would bust out in laughter, realizing that yes, that butt plug was still deep in Bakugou’s ass. “And after that, we can finally enjoy that birthday cake,” you cooed as you coaxed Bakugou onto his knees, moving to get some body oil to slick up your fingers. 

“I’m kinda in the mood for some other birthday cake,” he’d growl before giving your ass a smack, once again making your pussy clench impatiently for more. 

Hours later, you three wouldn’t be sleeping until dawn. 

A birthday surprise (and threesome) gone right, indeed.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

just stumbled across your blod (thank God) and was instantly addicted to your writing and in love with your story "love has no limits"... Just wow =) thanks for giving me a good time. Luck seems to be on my side, as I saw that your requests are open, good Lord my brain is in overdrive. I'm got an idea in my mind and I just want to share it with you, of course with the big hope you like to write a story out of it, but even if you don't like it pleeeeeeease just let me know =) I'm really in need of some sick/hurt and comfort fic (hopefully you like to write this genre) with angst and an protective Jake, but there's also this dad!Jake in my brain, so my synapsis combined these ideas into one story. You ready? It's slightly au, cause the Daggers are permanent at Top Gun, sorry

Fem!reader (or oc as you like) is new in town, kicked out of her own home by her aggressive ex as she told him she's pregnant, but not bevore he threatened her and the unborn's life.... Running from these abusive douche she seeks peace and comfort hopefully finding it now. Fortunately the Hard Deck searched a new auxiliary to help Penny with the bookkeeping and sometimes with holding the bar on busy nights. That's how Hangman casts an eye at you for the first time (he's instantly taken aback).... So that's where I need some angst, drama and comfort: she has a difficult pregnancy with constant nausea and heavy dizzy spells and migraines ans sleep doesn't come easily because of nightmares of her ex. She's not showing when Jake sees her the first time, but Penny told the Daggers of your problematic pregnancy to keep an eye out on you (Penny knows your bad history with your ex, but she doesn't tell the Squad). The Daggers some kind adopt you, especially Jake can't hide his protectiveness of this beautiful pregnant woman.....

Fluff, protective and comforting Jake, angst drama, sick, hurt and love... Is there more we need in a story? :D

Sorry for this long shit, just wanted to share it with you. How bad is it?

Send you just love =)

Thank you so much for reading and enjoying Love Has No Limits! My requests indeed are open, but I have one caveat. I'm already working on three series and I have other projects I'm thinking of for after those are over as well.

I truly adore this idea, and I think it would be a great fic/series to have for TG:M. I could see it turning into a series in order to fully explore and cement the relationship between Jake and the main character. I'm just not sure I'd be able to do it justice with everything else that I have going on right now.

I'm so thankful that you enjoyed my work enough that you're comfortable enough to share this idea with me! Maybe one of my followers and mutual writer friends on this site will be able adopt this idea and do it justice.

- XOXO Star

[lvnarsapphic]

You reblog a lot of pretty art! Any tips for finding good art blogs? I’m not the best at curating my dash yet

I'm doing blogging well, I'm getting a good grade in Tumblr

But if you want a real answer, I'll give you one... Under the cut because I love to ramble about meta stuff and my particular methods of doing things. I hope you never have to read my lab reports.

Best way to find stuff you like is to dive into the tags of things you like and follow anyone who makes something you like on a semi-regular basis. Find out who they reblog from and who the original posters are and follow those people as well, given you like their vibe (more on this later). I generally avoid following the big repost accounts because they find their way onto my dash no matter what cause other people follow them and therefore anything I see has already gone through one filter of aesthetic appreciation.

The reblog function of Tumblr is core to your experience on the site and its best and most notable feature. That is why the entire site is built around this feature and updates that aren't uplifting or capitalizing on its use do extremely poorly (live, mart, and TV). I say this because the filter of the endless amount of stuff on Tumblr that reblogs from the people you follow, gives you the ability to shape your experience of this site. If you don't follow the right people to cultivate the kind of experience you want, or to see and talk to the people you enjoy, the site's appeal and functionally falls apart.

My initial method (as explained above) was to follow everyone and everything that remotely seemed within my areas of interest. I have since refined it to something I could (theoretically) plug into Excel if I was bored enough. This is possible for no reason other than I'm autistic, love to use Excel, make things into a definite process, and then excessively math something out (with some number fudging), more than I ever really needed to. I won't detail it here because it's a floating set of ideas in my head and not a hard and fast list of things I'm genuinely looking for. I will say that my prior following escapades from when I started out on Tumblr have made me reach a follow count of more than 3,000. However, within the last month and half, I've followed maybe two new blogs out of genuine interest, rather than a mutual recreating or having a side blog I had meant to follow for a while but forgot/didn't know about but should have. I mentioned the number fudging didn't I?

I kept this vague, of looking at the "vibe" of someone's blog, because it really is just based on your tastes and who you follow and who you want to follow. I will look through someone's blog for a long while before just clicking off, because I know I don't want to see more of their blog than the infrequent amount I see. I look through these blogs I half follow when someone I follow reblogs their stuff or if they're in my activity. I'll like some posts, reblog others, and then I'm off. If the vibes don't fit, I don't follow. You and I have different vibes despite you enjoying the art I post, as evident by the very act of sending this ask. This isn't a dig at you, nor is it saying I can guess your whole personality cause that would be idiotic. But, I don't imagine you were expecting this long of an answer, especially this late.

I'm glad you enjoy what I post though. I know I do. Half the time I spend on the app is spent going through my own posts and activity because I enjoy seeing what people liked which of my posts. I hope this was helpful in some manner to you. Maybe you will post the right stuff or reblog the right stuff from me that would make me follow you back. Actually, that isn't something worth striving for. Honestly, that sounds a little sad to hope some blogger you do not know follows you back. Though I kind of just thrust that want onto you, so I don't think that is representative of something you actually care about. Sorry that's a weird thing to leave on but I have nothing else to say.

Good luck blogging... I guess?

[yuta-nakamots]

hi guys, it’s definitely been a while…i guess i would say that i’m back but i am not too sure how active i will be and for how long. this post will serve as an announcement and an update regarding my blog and status on tumblr but if you feel that i missed anything or have questions, feel free to send me a message or an ask. 

PAST

first off, i would like to apologize for leaving without official notice. i was extremely busy with school along with my extracurriculars and i kept telling myself that i would come back tomorrow, the day after that, and so on. at some point i stopped thinking about tumblr and forgot about it but every so often it came across my mind and i felt the urge to come online but i never did. 

a large reason of why i didn’t come back earlier was because i was scared. i’m still not too sure why i’m scared but i think it’s because i know so much has changed and i’m scared of seeing how many people have left or seeing how much my mutuals have grown in the time i was not here.

i am especially sorry to people who organized and/or hosted events and collabs that i was a part of and missed the deadline for. i do intend on releasing my works for them because i feel a sense of incompletion knowing that there are things i have left undone.

PRESENT

if anyone would like to fill me in on any events (url changes, mutuals leaving, my membership in networks, overall network changes, etc.) that occurred in my absence, it would be greatly appreciated. 

i know i held roles of authority within both @nct-writers and @neosmutcollective and i would love to return to remain part of the staff team. if the head admins and staff team would like to have me back, i am more than willing to return, even if not to my previous positions.

aside from those two networks, i was also a member of a few other networks and will be sending an ask to the respective blogs to check on my membership with them since i do wish to continue being a member.

i will begin checking all of my messages both on here and discord throughout the next few days. please be patient with me but if there are certain things that you would like to bring to my immediate attention, feel free to do so.

i will also be responding to everything in my ask box and going as far back as possible in my notifications in case anyone has tagged me recently. 

regarding my url and its relation to wayv’s lucas, i personally do not have a statement on his issue but in combination with that and this refresh to my blog, i think a name change would be fitting and it would help me get back into enjoying this site. 

within the next day or so, i will be changing my url from lucas-wongs to yuta-nakamots which i think many of you will find a bit more fitting if you remember my undying love for yuta haha that much has not changed about me during my time away.

please be patient as i update my links once i change my url and also let me know if there are posts that i missed after i announce that i have finished updating links. 

FUTURE 

i am currently in summer school and i do plan on remaining active until my fall semester starts in august. i do not know how active i will be but i definitely will not be as active as i once was since i have more responsibilities than i did back when i first started writing.

as i mentioned before, i will continue to write and post works, but works related to events and collabs will be given priority. i have kept notes on new ideas i would like to write during my time away from tumblr and i do hope to bring them to life on here.

if there are any of my mutuals remaining here that do not already have my social media and would like to stay in touch, let me know and i would love to find a way for us to stay connected outside of tumblr since i enjoyed so many of the friends i made here. 

i would like to thank Liv @horanghoe for continuously supporting me ever since we first became partners in crime on tumblr. thank you for encouraging me to come back and making me feel welcomed and wanted in this community. you make tumblr feel like a hangout place for the two of us to exist together without a giant ocean between us and i’m so glad to have met you. 

[luvvchu]

Hey there, Ko! Sorry for how sudden this ask is, but since I remember you mentioned being new to tumblr and wanting a few pointers on using this site. As someone who's had an account here for nearly 2 years and has been "lurking" for the past 6 or 7 years, here are a few pointers. 1. Interaction

There are 3 ways to "interact" with a post on tumblr, with those being liking, reblogging, and commenting. Whilst liking and commenting are fairly self explanatory, reblogging allows you to "repost" a post or image you liked onto your own blog; you can add commentary, images, and so forth in the "reblog." Reblogging is by no means mandatory, but it is the best and most reliable way to support an artist/creator!

2. Primary and secondary blogs

There are two types of blogs on tumblr, with those being "primary" and "secondary" blogs. Your primary blog (which was created with your account) can like, follow, message, and comment on posts. While you can only have one primary blog per account/email, you can create as many secondary/side blogs as you like. Secondary blogs have the ability to post, reblog, and answer/receive asks! I have a secondary blog for reblogs and another for edits and the like; I highly recommend creating a secondary account for reblogging posts if you'd rather reserve this account for sprite editing.

3. Tagging

To ensure that your work shows up in search results, you can add tags (ex: tagging a sprite edit of Nagito with his name). Only the first 20 tags show up in search results, so be sure to use them wisely! If you're wanting to differentiate between types of content (ex: sprite edits and asks), you might want to create an original tag (ex: asks, sprite edits, reblogs, etc). I personally tag reblogs with "reblog" and reblogs from friends or mutuals as "friend's work."

4. Curating Your Feed

Since tumblr's algorithm is a bit different from that of other websites, you have a bit more control over what you can and can't see. You can filter out specific tags and/or keywords to prevent posts with those tags or keywords from showing up on your dashboard (which is considered the "main" page).

5. Protecting Privacy

If you'd like, you can prevent your blog from showing up in google search results or from being visible to people without an account. This is a very helpful feature, especially if you are worried about your privacy. Don’t be afraid to block suspicious accounts (especially since this site currently has a problem with porn/spam bots following accounts and even creating explicit posts in certain tags).

Have fun, and I hope you enjoy it here!

Hey, tysm! this is actually really helpful :D I also had no idea about the secondary blog thing 😅 that's pretty cool, thanks again for being so kind and explaining to me ! (๑>◡<๑) 💕

[thissortofsorcery]

Okay so I meant to do this earlier, but for the 70 (or however many there were, I honestly forget lol) questions thing, could you do 31?

Also, for the other thing, I have a secret to confess: I don't have a whole lot of really really good friends, really only one or two, but I consider people on the internet my friends, especially you and my other mutuals, because you seem to get me in a way that some of my other friends don't. I always have a little bit of anxiety when doing anything social, because I don't want people to think I'm weird for asking or saying things out of the blue (even doing asks like this make me a little nervous), and I'm afraid they'll stop being my friend because of it. It's worse with people I actually know in person, but it's still there, so whenever someone answers an ask I gave or reblogs/likes/comments on my posts and works on sites like ao3, it really helps ease my mind and makes me feel happy. So that's my secret, and thank you for always helping me to overcome my anxiety just by being a nice person on the internet. I don't think we've ever met, but I hope someday we might be able to. 💚💚💚

ok, for 31: does somebody love you?

I mean, family and friends, yeah. Romantically, no, I don't think ever.

---

Thank you for sharing a secret!! Honey we're samesies!! I don't really connect with people irl but you and other mutuals are special to me too. You're such a sweetheart honestly!!!! And I totally get how you feel, you're not alone. Reaching out to people is so hard :(

I'm always happy to hear from you though! Whenever I see you on my dash or notes my brain goes "OH HI LIV!!"