#hurts so fuckin bad I’m wishing I had just rested

[milo-is-rambling]

Sometimes I think I might be faking having chronic pain (yknow, anxiety) and then I remember that normal people do not hurt every single day and I get jealous

[saberlight1]

lost signals & tunes — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, angst, mentions of violence, injustice in the districts, possessive!snow, trauma, kinda mean!snow, talks of a breakup, arguments, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: i’m back for round 3!!! i’m so happy that you all like this series so far as much as i do. here are the links to part 1 & 2, if you missed them. this one is sad and angsty, i’m sorry. the song y/n sings is by frank santra! anyways, i hope you enjoy this one! much love.

masterlist

Since your last real conversation with Coriolanus, he had been acting different. He was colder, and you didn’t know if you were simply going crazy, or if he just going out of his way to ignore you.

But regardless, you were hurt. When you tried to speak to him, he would say he had somewhere to be. And maybe he did, but you just wished he’d spend time with you.

You missed him, really.

Lucy Gray frowned as she watched you from across the room. You and the Covey were all getting ready backstage at the Hob where you were set to perform shortly. Even if you were cousins, you and Lucy Gray were brought up as sisters and knew the other probably better than you knew yourselves.

She watched you as you were deep in thought, and she knew something was troubling you. She walked over, and with a click of her tongue she gained your attention.

With a raise of her eyebrows you already knew what she was thinking. “Lucy Gray, please. Not right now,”

She raised her hands up in surrender, sitting down next to you on the couch. “I was just gonna ask what was wrong,”

“I’m sorry,” You sighed, rubbing your temple. “I’m stressed out,”

“Talk to me,” She softly smiled, her hand coming up to comfortably rub your shoulder.

“Coriolanus has just been acting weird, and I don’t know why. I think.. I think when we were at the lake I said something that he didn’t like, or something.” You vented. “Just ever since we got back, he’s been off. Or maybe I’m just delusional.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Christ, Gray, I’m loosin’ it.”

She giggled. “You got a bad case of the love blues, it sounds to me, Y/N.” She repeated the same thing your mothers used to say all the time when talking about past relationships.

A small smile blessed your features. “I think you may be on to somethin’.” You sighed, again. “I just wish he’d at least talk to me, y’know? Let me know whatever I’ve done, so I can fix it, or if he wants to break up just fuckin’ tell me. I hate when shit just lingers.”

“I know.” She shook her head. “Listen, if he doesn’t realize how damn good he’s got it, then he ain’t worth it. You know better. And I know you two got history and what not, but if he stressin’ you out so bad you can’t even enjoy a performance, I’d say ya need to talk to the boy.” She explained, shrugging. “Or leave his ass. You deserve better,”

You chuckled. “Only you, Lucy Gray, could manage to make me laugh while talking about my relationship problems.” You shook your head, playfully.

A smile came back to her face. “You know it, now, c’mon we got a show to play.” She stood up, holding her hand out for you to take.

She brought you over to the rest of the Covey, Issac immediately bringing you into a side hug.

“Aye, sis, you want me to kick that boy’s ass?” He asked, smiling goofy.

You laughed. “No, please.”

“Alright, alright.“ He shook his head. “Let’s go, folks!”

Once you all were out on stage, all of the struggles and worries wrestling around your mind faded, and a smile brightly displayed on your face as you sang along with your family. You didn’t even realize how fast it was going by because you were enjoying yourself.

Until you saw his smirk in that crowd.

You were scanning the crowd as normal, loving to see all of different people coming to together to enjoy music when you saw him. He was in the back of the room, alone, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirked at you.

His gaze almost made you feel uneasy, his sharp eyes boring into yours. Lucy Gray wrapped up one of her songs, turning on her heel and winking at you, her signal to let you know it was your turn on the mic.

You sighed before standing up, grabbing your guitar and walking up to the mic.

“Hey, twelve,” You smiled, looking at the crowd. “How y’all doin’ tonight, huh?” They all cheered in return, making your smile grow bigger. “That’s what I like to hear! Alright, here’s the song.”

Over and over, I keep goin’ over the world we knew.

You began, singing deeply and sharply into the mic, staring into Coriolanus’ eyes.

Once when you walked beside me,

That inconceivable, that unbelievable world we knew,

When we two were in love.

Your eyes burned into his as the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only you and him as you sang to him. He knew it was about him, most of your songs were.

And every bright neon sign turned into stars,

And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours.

Each road that we took turned into gold,

But the dream was too much for you to hold.

Your voice boomed across the pub, the couples holding each other and the singles downing their shots in misery. You touched all their hearts with the song, somehow. His eyebrows furrowed as he truly listened to the lyrics, seeing how you wrote about your love and pain, and he wondered if it was still about him.

I mean, he hadn’t hurt you, right? He didn’t think him ignoring you for a week or two would push you this far.

Now, over and over I keep goin’ over the world we knew.

Days when you used to love me.

Issac and Cece took over for the music break, as you turned to blink away the tears that threatened to spill.

And every bright neon sign turned into stars,

And the sun and the moon seemed to be ours.

Each road that we took, it turned into the gold,

But the dream was too much for you to hold.

The tears only got closer to dropping from your eyes as you kept singing, just trying to get through the song. You tried focusing on the beautiful music the Covey produced behind you and put your all into your singing.

Now, over and over I keep goin’ over the world we knew.

Days when you used to love me,

Over and over I keep goin’ over that world we knew.

You finished with one last strum of your guitar, and the melodies of Lucy Gray and Maudie Ivory next to you. The crowd erupted in cheers and claps.

“Thank you!” You smiled as the rest of your family joined you, bowing. After saying your goodbyes, you stalked off stage as fast as you could, ignoring the concerned gaze from Coriolanus.

“Your singing was beautiful, I love that song.” Lucy Gray said as she walked beside you. “But I do want to give that boy a stern talkin’ to for makin’ you feel that way.”

You grabbed her wrist. “No, Lucy. Let me talk to him.” She looked at you with raised brows, the pair of you exchanging words with your eyes. Eventually she nodded, stepping forward and letting you walk.

You walked through the corridor that led back out to the dance floor, your eyes looking for that familiar face. But it seemed to be that he found you before you could find him, the man already walking towards you.

You crossed your arms, turning on your heel to walk deeper into the corridor so no one would be around. You knew he’d follow, so you leaned against the wall, popping the gum in your mouth.

“There you are,” He called as he turned the corner, seeing you standing there. He walked over to stand in front of you. “Y/N, that song—”

“Cut the shit,” You cut him off. “What’s been goin’ on with you, Coriolanus?”

His eyebrows furrowed at your forwardness. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you avoidin’ me. You been actin’ weird since the lake, Coryo.” You sighed, pushing yourself off the wall to get eye to eye with the man before you. “If this is about what I said about runnin’ away..”

He rubbed his temple, staying silent.

“Coriolanus, do you expect me to enjoy life here? Watchin’ people get hung every other day, scared for my own damn life? My families lives?” You threw your arms out, scoffing. “Why would I want to stay?”

“Because of me!” He cut off your rant with a whisper yell. “I wanted you to want to stay, with me. Or.. come with me to the Capitol.”

“You know how I feel about that.”

“I know. And I wish I could change that.” He stepped forward a bit. “Because I don’t want to be away from you, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened. “Coryo, I don’t want to be away from you either. Hell, I’ve been thinkin’ about you for weeks just because you didn’t talk to me,” You bitterly laughed at your own foolishness. “But, look, if this is gon’ cause a problem between us, then maybe we should just call it off here, ‘cause even if it’ll hurt like hell, if we don’t got trust in each other then we got dirt.” You shrugged, even though the words you spoke felt like a dagger to the heart.

“No.” He shook his head immediately, his hands reaching out to grip your hips, almost seeming to make sure you wouldn’t run. “I’m not letting you go, no. Definitely not over this.”

“Then what do you want from me?” You asked, your eyes flickering between his. “You iced me out for 2 weeks because of what I said, then when I give you a solution, you say no?”

“Because that solution is us not being together.” He said, firmly. “That is the last thing I want. This whole thing started because I’m afraid of being away from you, Y/N.” He finally admitted.

You sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me that? We could’ve worked this out together.”

His hands slid up your body to cradle your face. “I was afraid. I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean for this. I didn’t mean to hurt you,”

You looked down. “You scared me, you asshole. I thought you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

He frowned, tapping softly on your cheek to get your attention back onto him. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I always want to be with you. We will figure this out, I promise you that. I.. I’m just not good with talking about things with people, y’know…”

A soft smile spread over your face. “Yeah, I know. Just.. talk to me next time, okay? I hate when we don’t talk.” You said, walking into his arms.

He sighed happily at the contact, nuzzling his face his your hair to inhale your scent. “I will, my love.” He sighed, pulling back and licking his lips. “That song, though, it was beautiful. What is it called?”

You continued to smile. “You didn’t figure it out? It’s called ‘The World We Knew’ and, before you even ask, yes, it’s about you.”

His smiled slowly faded. “I made you feel that way?”

You swallowed, your smile gone as well. “Coryo.. these past two weeks, I thought it was over between us. When I wrote that, I was trying to come to terms with it.”

“Well, now you know that we’ll forever be in that world we apparently knew.” He joked, making you giggle.

He leaned forward to place a loving kiss on your lips, causing you to moan against his lips. He pulled back at the noise, looking at you with a smirk. “I have just the idea to make it up to you,”

You laughed when you saw that glint in his eye, kissing him again. “Show me what you got, big boy.” 

[ota-division]

Taria's Thoughts on Niigata Division

Seiji Tsukimoto

"Great. Just great! Bad enough we had one cop joining this stupid tournmaent, but now we have the fuckin' Chief of Police in the mix too?! What the hell?! Are cops that fuckin' lazy that they can just join a rap battle?! Ugh!

Anyway, can't say I'm thrilled to see him strutting around in the rap battle scene. It’s one thing to deal with the police on the streets, but having them in the DRB? That’s a whole new level of meddling! And to make matters worse, my sister, Kira, is working with him, which I can't be too surprised about. She always did have a knack for keeping strange company.

I just hope she doesn't get caught up in whatever he's planning. The police have never been friends of mine, and I doubt this Seiji-guy is any different. But hey, if he steps out of line, he'll find out that not all battles can be won with a badge and a gun."

Lyall Shiba

"Lyall Shiba, the detective with a past that's more tabloid than textbook. Yeah, I've heard about him—hard not to when he's dating Kaoru, who's been my inside girl more times than I can count. Attractive? Sure, in that 'I've walked off a magazine cover and solved crimes by lunchtime' kind of way. But don't let the looks fool you; there's more to this guy than meets the eye.

We've crossed paths a few times, thanks to Kaoru. And while I'm not about to cozy up to a cop, Lyall's not your typical badge. He's got a streak of rebellion in him, and I can respect that. He's been through the wringer and come out the other side with his own brand of justice. Would I take a shot at him if he wasn't with the cops? Maybe, but not the kind you're thinking.

As for working with the police, well, I can't say I'm fuckin' thrilled, but I get it. We all have our battles to fight, and sometimes you gotta pick the side that lets you sleep at night. ...But for his sake, he better not do anything to hurt Kaoru. If he does, not even his cop buddies are gonna protect him when I get a hold of him."

Ayumu Hayami

"And last but not least, the paramedic. He’s not a cop, so he doesn't get the automatic side-eye from me, but that doesn’t mean he gets a free pass either. He's tight with the Chief, which means he's closer to the law than I'd like.

What's more, I've heard from Aranai over in Ueno that he has a thing for that nun whose on her team. ...Huh, a paramedic having a crush on a nun? What kinda nonsense is that? I'd thought religious figures would hate these guys cause its a science vs. religion thing or something. But anyway, if he likes that nun, well, that's his business. I’ve got no love for religion, but I’m not about to judge someone for who they fall for. As long as he’s not preaching at me or trying to convert me, we’re good.

Besides that, I've heard stories, you know? About how he saves lives, how he’s there when people are at their worst, offering a helping hand. That’s something even I can’t knock. Sure, he’s part of Valor Guard, and that puts him in the same boat as the rest of them. But saving lives is his game, and that’s noble, no matter how you slice it. Do I trust him? Not entirely—guilt by association and all that. But I respect what he does. As long as he keeps his nose clean and doesn’t start playing cop, we won’t have a problem."

Valor Guard

"Valor Guard, the second cop squad of the DRB. I reiterate what I said earlier: are cops that lazy that they can just join a rap tournament on a whim? Ugh!

Anyway, can't say I'm thrilled about having the Chief of Police and his detective buddy playing rappers. It's like watching a hawk join a flock of pigeons—just doesn't sit right with me. And Kira, my own sister, thinking about teaming up with them? That's a whole other level of complicated. I get it, she's got her reasons, but it’s not exactly a comforting thought.

Am I going to make trouble for them? Let's just say I’m not planning a welcome party. I've got my own way of doing things, and if they cross me, they'll wish they hadn't. But I'm not out to start a war. I'll give them a fair warning: stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of theirs. We’re all in this D.R.B. for our own reasons, and as long as they don't step on my toes, I'll keep my claws sheathed. ...For now."

[j4xotto]

Melbourne, 2014.

The first time Jax kissed Ash, he was deadly sober.

Well, mostly sober. He remembered his skin was sticky-sweet with champagne, most of the spray having dribbled down his chin, pornographic in a way he was sure would be giffed on Tumblr and later reblogged by a hundred horny, queer Formula One fans. Everything he ever did was put under a microscope, but in that moment, he was too euphoric to care. Let me celebrate tonight, he thought. Let me throw myself into the arms of my teammate, roar with the crowd. Today, he was on the podium, he was first fucking place.

Bodies pressed in on him from every side, clapping his back and clutching onto his race suit. Pure adrenaline coarsed through him, his heart still jackhammering with the thrum of the engine. Amongst the throng of people, Jax was vaguely aware of the team principal ruffling his hair, his eyes clapping on his Mum, beaming with pride. His Dad was crying, fat tears of pride spilling down his cheeks, his baby niece propped up on his shoulders. Little Paige, who Jax remembered holding in the delivery room, wearing a bright smile for him, a number four painted in glitter on her cheek. Jax wished he could say it didn’t all pale in comparison to seeing Ash.

Because when Ash hurtled toward him in the crowd, God, his heart clenched in his chest. It felt as though he was moving in slow motion to get to him, the end goal to be eveloped in his arms. Pride beamed out from Ash’s features, eyes glittering from beneath his dark brow. Those full, pretty lips Jax had fantasised about kissing one too many times were pulled into a bright smile. And then suddenly, Ash’s arms were around him, pulling him into a hug so tight the rest of the world fell away.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, Jaxxy.” he breathed, the words hot against Jax’s ear, his honeycoated Boston accent curling around the praise. It made Jax's stomach twist every time.

For just a second, Jax can live in this daydream. That Ash is his, and that he's allowed to want him. That he’s allowed to celebrate his win with the man he loves, in front of his team, at his home race. Breathing in in the slick smell of sweat against Ash’s skin, Jax knocked his Haas cap clean off his head. It fell to the ground, forgotten and probably crushed, as Jax pushed his fingers into Ash’s dark locks.

He forgot himself. In hindsight, he can admit that. When Ash pulled back, bright and blazing and beautiful, Jax moved to press his lips to the other man’s cheek.

Cameras everywhere flashed as Jax missed by half an inch, catching Ash full on the mouth. A closed mouth press of lips that leaves his trainer startled, Ash whipping his head back with wide eyes, no regard for Jax’s hurt feelings as he plastered a scowl on his face. What should’ve been the best day of his life took a sudden, steep drop off the edge of a cliff.

When Jax disentangled from his friend, his Ash, the first thing he saw was Kelly. Her blonde hair had been swept off her shoulders and fastened in a tight top knot, a precaution against the stuffy Melbourne heat. She'd pressed herself against Jax in a bright hug and a flurry of nerves moments before he stepped in the car, looking so proud she might burst. Now, when Jax's eyes met hers, they found her blue eyes brimming with rage and unshed tears. From where she was standing, Jax was sure it looked pretty bad. After all, wasn't he supposed to be her friend?

Sorry, Kelly, he remembered thinking, but I did love him first.

In the the end, Jax found himself on the doorstep to his family home. A week spent in Sydney, crying bitterly in the arms of his Mum. Jax was all too certain that his racing career was over, a sting not even Mila Otto could soothe. This horrible, hyper-masculine sport he loved so fiercely had turned its back on him for the final time. The photo was splashed over every major news outlet, and Jax was called every hateful name under the sun by every sports commentator, journalist and motor sports fan. The few times Jax dared to log into Twitter, there’s a few sweet girls with the Australian flag in their display name who tweet him a string of hearts, a reminder that he is loved and even supported. Each night involves Jax trying and failing to read a few thinkpieces on the importance of queer athletes in male dominated sports, but they just hurt his head.

There was talk about dropping him from Haas. The consolation is a stern telling off for his behaviour and a string of press conferences. Jax sitting shoulder to shoulder with other drivers as he made jokes, denied everything, no homo’d his way through it all.

If you were to ask about Jax Otto's racing season in 2014, most people would tell you about his wins. How he was consistently at pole position, how he finished P1, P2, P3 most races. How the crowd would light up with him, chanting his name as he stepped out of the car, bright, vibrant and alive.

If you were to google Jax Otto now, the picture of him kissing another man isn't even the first thing that comes up.

[parttimepuff]

king dedede took being within striking distance of a matter like a champ

What are you so worried about man, she even skittered off like a scared mouse or something

The knight didn't even turn around, summoning a small mach tornado behind him and sending it speeding towards the intruder. "Consider that a warning." Metaknight growled. Falling silent again, he could only stay close by as the king shook, obscured by his robe. It seemed like even laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder would break him.

Flying through Whispy's Woods towards home, Beep suddenly felt something very off. And very bad. 'This is Not real, ah'm having a nightmare, just need to wake up, Nova please let me wake up-' came a new voice in her mind. Immediately, she hit a tree and tumbled a few feet across the ground. Rolling to a stop, she stared up at the sky. She recognized that voice.

"…ow." The Matter mumbled. Truthfully, Beep wasn't hurt, she was more worried about the voice. 'What do ah do, do ah just wait, run away, no one can find me like this, no one Should find me like this, what if ah hurt them, wake up wake up WAKE UP' The voice continued to babble on in panic. She laid under the tree, still, before closing her eye and taking a deep breath.

'It’s okay.' Beep assured him. 'No it ain't, what if this doesn't end, ah'll have to leave the castle or hide away and then who knows how everyone would react and if they saw me, they'd think the worst, old man wouldn't be able to convince all of em-' Dedede's thoughts fired back, laden with fear and barely separated. 'Where are you? Are you safe?' She tried again.

'Ah'm in the throne room n' Metaknight's with me, but ah can't be safe, how could ah be safe, it's not-' Mid-thought, something occurred to the king. He already knew where he was. '…you're not me.' Dedede realized. 'No, I’m not. I’m me.' Beep replied. Looking back towards the castle, she debated whether or not she should go back. 'What happened?' She asked.

All his thoughts began bunching together just as before. 'You're not, then you, no, ah was talking with him about Matters and one of those lousy gray folk came rushing in and it had to be them, ah don't know what they did, but ah'm one of em now and things don't look right and ah can't, ah can't do this.'

'Oh…' Beep thought, falling silent. Jumbled as it was, she got the picture. 'They’re just a bunch of fuckin' jerks. And things, look how they’re supposed to. It’s just, how things look to-' She cut herself off from saying “us”. 'They sure fuckin' are, ah wish ah'd punted more of 'em out the window, maybe they would've stopped coming.' Dedede responded immediately.

Equal parts amused and awed, Beep replied. 'You can just throw them out the windows?' But the king's mind had already moved on. 'This is how they always see?? That sucks, missing so many colors, ah guess they don't need em, but ah miss em already, what if ah don't get to again.' Dedede wondered, his fear winning out over the rest of his thoughts.

Her expression fell. '…I’m sorry, but, I think you can do it. Even if you don’t, I think you can. You’re a tough guy.' Beep expressed. 'Ah don't, ah'm scared. Ah'm so, so scared, ah want to wake up, ah'm tough, but ah'm not this tough, ah haven't been this scared in years.' Dedede confessed. He could hardly restrain his thoughts enough to keep that a secret.

'…yeah, colors are nice. You’ll get to see them again, promise.' Beep insisted. 'Don’t be scared, you’re tough, I’m here, Meta knight is there, too.' She, wasn't sure how to feel about that still. 'I… I know it’s scary. But I know you don’t have to be alone.'

[phantom-ellie]

old desk, new tricks

Click here for CWs/Full Chapter List

OFMD Kinktober 2022 Prompt 4: Desk Sex/Dirty Talk

Stede buys a new desk. What should they do with it?

Part of Series Our Flag Means Stupid Bad Sex: For Kinktober 2022, my attempt to portray each kink prompt in the most unsexy manner possible. If anything in here manages to turn you on, you are a special snowflake and I salute you on your unique life path.

There comes a time in every man's life when he needs to replace his cabin desk with an even larger, more expensive desk.

It's nothing personal, Stede tells his old desk, the one he'd originally gotten to replace his even more original desk, which Ed had unreasonably thrown into the ocean despite being completely unprovoked.

He doesn't literally tell his desk that, because Stede doesn't talk to furniture, unlike some people.

"Here you are, big girl!" Ed says to Stede's New Desk as he carries it into the room with the help of Wee John and Frenchie.

"Don't feel bad, old desk, just think of it as a promotion!" Frenchie attempts to soothe Old Desk's hurt feelings.

"It can't hear you, it doesn't have ears!" Stede says bitchily as they advance towards him.

"Where do you want it, love?" Ed huffs.

"Exactly the same place as the old one, please!" Stede points his hand to where the old desk is still sitting, because no one thought to move it ahead of time, because everyone on the Revenge is a stupid fucking dork.

The men set the desk down and Ed ponders for a minute. There isn't any room to move Old Desk out with New Desk already in the room, they won't fit next to each other. But he has an idea.

"What if we pick the old desk up and lift it over the new desk and out the door?"

Stede smiles his stupid fucking dork smile that makes Ed want to ride his crotch like Yoshi on Rainbow Road.

"That's brilliant, Ed!" Stede truly and honestly believes that every idea Ed has ever had is brilliant, unless the idea doesn't work out, in which case Stede truly and honestly always knew it wouldn't work.

And so the four of them each grab a leg of Old Desk and hoist it up, lifting it over New Desk. It goes great.

For about four seconds. When the desk has completed half of its journey, Frenchie and Stede both feel their muscles giving out and once and set their end down on the floor.

"Hey, what are you doing, we're lifting that!" Ed protests. Two of the Old Desk's legs are on the floor, the rest of the desk leaning on top New Desk.

"These hands aren't made for labor," Frenchie says, holding his hands up, then looking at Stede like, 'what's your excuse?'

But that was going to be Stede's excuse, and now he doesn't have one, so he crosses his arms and huffs, blowing a blond curl out of his face.

"You know," Wee John says, standing back against the window, "They kinda look like they're fuckin' like that."

Ed starts laughing and Stede glares at him again, but secretly Stede thinks that Wee John is right, they do look like they're fucking. They look like a smaller panda going at it on a larger panda. Only pandas don't do it like that, they don't really have much sex at all, and Stede feels just awful about that and wishes he could somehow help, like maybe he could talk to the pandas, only he knows that pandas are deaf and couldn't hear him.

He sighs. "Well, what do we do now?"

Ed gets that look in his eye, that now-I'm-fucking-with-you-Stede-the-love-of-my-life-who-I-harass-and-don't-deserve look that he gets, the look Stede married him for.

"Come on, man, look at those arms. You're like a... a sexy rectangle. You can lift that end all on your own, can't you?"

"No Ed, I can't. These guns are just for show."

"Bet."

"What does that mean?"

"I bet you can! You take that end, I'll take this one." And that's when the grunting starts.

Frenchie and Wee John know better than the interfere when there's grunting, they weren't born yesterday. They don't know when they were born, but they can remember before yesterday so it wasn't then.

Frenchie nudges John with his elbow.

"Kinda hot, yeah?"

"The captains, or the desks?"

"The desks, the captains are stupid fucking dorks, you know that."

"What do you think the desks are saying to each other?"

The words "...arms I married you for..." come floating towards them as Stede attempts to lift his end of the desk, which sets it in a nice, rhythmic, rocking motion.

Frenchie thinks for a moment.

"Oh New Desk, you fucking like that, don't you? You fucking filthy whore desk. Taste my morning wood."

Wee John affects an even lower voice than normal.

"Give it to me, Old Desk, fuck me in the desk-hole like it's your last day on earth, you filthy wooden shit."

"I'll fuck the... the sap... right out of you, New Desk. You won't have any sap left after this!"

"Guys, that isn't how desks work! What's a desk hole, anyway?" Stede whines.

"Focus, mate! Lift with your sexy little legs!" Ed replies.

"Oh Old Desk, I wish we could be together. I wish this consensual sexual encounter between two large pieces of furniture would last forever!"

"Me too, New Desk, but you know me. You know my Old Desk ways. I'm a loner, New Desk. A rebel."

"If you two don't stop that, I'm going to find whoever is in charge of lowering your salary and politely ask them to do it," Stede says red-faced as he finally gets his end of Old Desk into the air.

"You're doing it, mate, look at those muscles go!" Ed laughs as they shimmy their way towards the door before setting it down.

Frenchie scratches the back of his head.

"Hey, captain? What were you going to do with Old Desk?"

Stede shrugs. "Throw it in the ocean, invite Calico Jack over to shoot it with a cannon, the ush. Why, do you want it?"

Frenchie looks at Wee John and shrugs.

"It's just... I'm feelin' kind of an attachment to it now, you know? It's been a big part of my life for the last ten minutes or so." Wee John nods in agreement.

"Where would you put it? What would you even do with it?"

Wee John cuts in. "We could put it in the hold!"

"And we could... pretend to write stuff, on it? Just to feel cool? Or we could draw."

Stede shrugs. "Ask whoever is in charge of deciding what goes in the hold."

"I don't know who that is."

Ed shrugs as well. "Make Izzy do it."

Frenchie's shoulders fall. "Izzy never lets us to anything fun in the hold, he's always busy down there."

"Okay, okay, just tell him I said you could do it!" Stede snaps. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to put New Desk to the test."

Ed wiggles his eyebrows up and down. "Have you tested it for... sturdiness?"

Stede waves his hand. "No, that's later on the schedule. First we're testing proper chair-to-desk ratio, writability with one sheet of parchment, writability with multiple sheets of parchment, ability to maintain quill verticality, and then..." his voice trails off as Wee John and Frenchie move their new desk to the hold.

They spend a good ten minutes excitedly hanging around the desk before they get bored with it forever, which is good news, because any longer and Izzy think he might have thrown his back out if he had to lay there under Swede any longer.

[phikappafuckthis]

Got back in touch with my grandma, kinda. She’s had a few strokes, she doesn’t really understand that posting online, especially on Facebook is like public access so we were talking on messenger and she was like this is difficult for me try posting and my first thought was absolutely the fuck not babe that’s fully public. But like I feel bad for making this difficult for her cuz I added her on Facebook I started this, and she’s being sweet but like I have these stories from my mom (not a valid source tbfh) so I’m hesitant to relay anything to her. And I know that anything I tell her she’ll tell the rest of the family cuz she’s go no fuckin filter so I have to be very vague with what I say, and unless it’s a post about my birthday or something significant I will have to just not post about it which is easy, but she’s asking me to post so she had an idea about my life about me?? And like I feel so fucking bad, but at the same time I’m like hollow about it. I’ve almost been getting these godawful headaches since the last week of break, and I’m worried about a lot of things abt myself tbh, worried about my alcohol consumption but than again addicts don’t worry that they’re addicts do they? Either way I gotta order these fucking omega 3 pills to make myself feel better, mostly just an excuse to eat more avocado too. Plus I’m having to deal with fucking white people bullshit bullshit on me, finally got to read the messages from something that caused me to lose all trust in someone I thought was a friend. And I’m so fucking mad because sometimes I just wish I could not care, and just pretend it doesn’t hurt and just pretend I’m not still reeling from it. It’s funny cuz Ar would call me obsessed, like they have the entire time even like immediately after it happened. I know that partially I am, because my paranoia has attached to that instead of my family, I have to be hyper vigilant about something might as well be my own fucking friends right?

[ticklishraspberries]

Playing Doctor (Riff/Reader)

Summary: Riff comes home with a few bruises from a fight, and the reader anxiously checks him over, only to discover something much more fun. (Here it is, some Riff x reader. Inspired by a conversation I had with @bigirlgiggles. Hope y’all enjoy it!!)

Riff sits on the edge of the bathtub, sporting a bruise to his jaw and several other minor injuries, and although he’s insisted that he’s fine multiple times, you just won’t let it go until you’ve checked him out.

“It was just a little fight,” he says, his tone the perfect mix of exasperated and touched by your protectiveness.

“And you come home looking like shit,” you reply. “Sit still and let me make sure you’re okay, or I’ll give you a new bruise.”

Your comment makes him chuckle. “Alright, alright. But if this is just a ploy to get me undressed, I’m gonna feel real betrayed.”

You roll your eyes. “You wish.”

Carefully, he pulled his shirt over his head, resting it over the sink. “All yours, doc,” he teases.

There’s no obvious signs of serious injury, but your anxiety won’t stop whispering in your head; broken ribs, internal bleeding, all sorts of things you aren’t equipped to fix, and convincing Riff to go to a hospital will be impossible.

Reflexively, you reach over to inspect his skin, little bruises and scars from previous nights like these litter his torso. “Let me know if anything hurts,” you say, carefully prodding.

Riff is good at hiding his reactions to pain, you’ve learned, but this time, he jerks away the moment your fingers touch his ribs with a muffled sound.

“Are you okay? Does that hurt? Do you think anything is broken, or—?”

He reaches out and gently takes your wrist. “I’m not hurt, baby doll, quit your worryin’,” he says softly, but the tips of his ears have flushed pink.

“Then why’d you flinch away?” you ask, annoyed by his need to act rough and tough all of the time. If he was hurt, why wouldn’t he let you help? These goddamn Jets, so proud and masculine, he's going to be the death of you.

“Just startled me,” Riff replies, but he’s looking down at his knees. There’s none of that usual Jet-like swagger in his tone, and his ears are definitely flushing.

Bullshit excuse, you think, and reach your hand out to touch the area once again. Instead of a wince or shout of pain, Riff lets out a huff that almost resembles a laugh, and pushes your hand away.

Oh. Oh.

“No fuckin’ way,” you say.

Riff’s blush has spread to his cheeks. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t I dare what?” you ask. “I’m just looking after you!”

He has nowhere to run; the bathroom is too small for him to dart around you, and if he scoots any further back, he’ll go sprawling into the bathtub. You watch his eyes dart around for an escape and the almost instant realization that there is none.

Your touch is soft now, no longer clinically prodding. Your fingers are gentle, using your nails to stroke the bottom of his rib cage, and you watch him shiver and suck his teeth, holding back the urge to laugh. Goosebumps start to rise on his arms. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable.

It’s fucking adorable.

“I didn’t realize you were so ticklish,” you coo.

“Shut it,” he replies. “M’not as bad as you, at least.”

That comment earns him a quick squeeze to his sides, which successfully startles a laugh out of him, causing you to grin. “This is too good.”

You tickle at his sides, listening to the melodic sound of his giggles, and you watch as he makes a valiant effort to not shove you off, probably fearing he’d accidentally hurt you if he did. He’s used to roughhousing with Tony and the other Jets, but he’s always gentle with you.

“Quit it,” he says, but he doesn’t sound mad. In fact, he almost sounds like he’s having fun.

“Not a chance,” you reply. “Where else are you ticklish, hm? What about your stomach?”

Instead of letting him answer, you test it for yourself. He hunches over, trying to block your hands, giggles still spilling from his lips. Yup, definitely ticklish there too.

It’s a truly adorable sight. It’s rare for Riff to act silly like this, always putting on a brave face. You wonder when the last time he laughed like this was, sparking another question.

“Does Tony know? I’m gonna have to ask him for all your worst spots,” you tease.

“I’ll kill you both,” Riff chokes out.

“You don’t sound so intimidating when you’re giggling.”

“I don’t giggle!”

You raise an eyebrow, challenging him, and swipe your fingers against his belly again, making him twist away with a sound that’s as close to a giggle as you can imagine.

“Sure you don’t,” you reply, smirking.

You move back towards his ribs, and he finally reaches for your hands, holding them tightly to prevent any further attacks. “No more,” he says, almost like begging, although he’d deny that.

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods. “Just fuckin’ tired. And besides, I thought this was a check-up. What’s the prognosis, doc?” he asks, giving you a grin.

“I diagnose you with ticklish,” you reply, giggling.

His face is still red, and no matter how grumpy he tries to look, you can see the smile tugging at his lips. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up from the edge of the tub. “You comin’ to bed?”

You follow him back to the bedroom happily, storing memories of his sensitive spots for the morning.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things. 

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait. 

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows. 

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.  

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again. 

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him. 

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia. 

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat. 

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?��

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

––––––––––––––––––––

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Cuddle Bunny Pt 2

Pro Hero!Kirishima x reader with a bunny quirk

Kirishima get’s his hand on his bunny. 

tw: smut, yandere, breeding kink, kidnapping, noncon, dubcon, gaslighting, penetration, delusional Kirishima, belly bulge

You struggled to open your eyes as you inhaled the familiar scent of sandalwood and vanilla. You heart rate picked up as you realized you were in a totally unfamiliar environment. Weren't you just at work?

Whoever was behind you had their arms around you to keep you from sitting up.

"Good morning, bunny. How'd you sleep?"

You knew that voice, confirming who was beside you.

Your mouth was dry and your voice cracked as you asked, "Kirishima? What's going on?"

"I picked you up from work last night, you were out like a light."

The pervious night was muddled in your mind but you knew he wasn't telling the truth. He was supposed to be your last client for the night. The two of you walked out of the building around the same time. You politely declined his offer to walk you home. The next thing you remember was sitting on the curb as the world started to spin. Kirishima was talking to you but you couldn't remember what was said.

You took a shaky breath. You had to be brave, besides he was a hero. There was an explanation. You just had to find it.

"Kiri, are you telling me the whole truth?" Your voice was barely above a whisper but you knew he heard you. His arms tensed around you.

"You're such a curious bunny. We can talk more once you're feeling better."

What was he talking about? All you had was a headache, you could hold down a conversation. Confrontation was never your thing. But maybe you could just keep asking him.

You wanted to wrap things up so you could go home before work.

"Can we talk about it later?" You asked. "I have to run home before my shift."

He nuzzled closer to you, "What do you mean, silly? You don't work there any more."

It was becoming harder to contain the panic building inside of you. You struggled harder against his grasp as small tears began to prick your eyes.

"Please let me up. You're scaring me."

Instead of letting go, Kirishima repositioned you too face him.

He looked concerned, "You don't need to be scared, you're safe here. You don't have to go back to that job, it's too dangerous."

/

"Be a good bunny, lift your pretty little tail a bit higher for me."

His hands guided your hips further into the air. Once he deemed you to be in a suitable position you felt him tug down your panties, exposing your slick cunt to the cool air.

You whimpered into the pillow. Your body, betraying your mind, ached to be touched by Kirishima's rough hands.

"You're so beautiful," he cooed. With two fingers he began to tease your delicate folds.

As the pressure in your lower abdomen began to build you tried to pretend that the situation was different. If you could lie to yourself about the position you were in maybe you could hold it together. He was stronger than you, much more athletic, even with out his quirk. Even if you struggled you knew you couldn't escape. You didn't want to risk making him angry. Although he kept repeating that he would never hurt you, how much could you trust the words of your abductor?

You bucked towards him when his thumb pressed against your clit.

Although you couldn't see it Kirishima was beaming with pride. He felt reassured that he was making you feel good. His cock throbbed in anticipation for the moment you both felt good.

But he told himself it wouldn't be manly to enter you with his dick before making you orgasm at least once.

Regaining control of himself he paused his assault on your pussy to rub his hands down your back toward your neck, gently pushing his thumbs against the base of your skull. You letting out a rough whine. Both frustrated with the lost sensation and pleased by the firm pressure against your shoulders.

"Okay baby, let's get you prepped, you're tiny compared to me. Let's get you as ready as we can."

You gasped as his index finger entered you. Pressing and curling against your walls as if to examine and assess the situation.

He continued to use his other fingers on the outside of your pussy. There was a wet noise as he gently thrust his finger in and out, and then with out warning you felt a stretching sensation. He has added another finger to your insides.

"That's it baby, you're doing so good. You got such a tight little pussy. How about I get a toy for next time. Something a little bigger than my fingers but smaller than the real thing. That way we can't get you ready a bit better than we will this time."

The idea of ‘next time’ made you lightheaded. You whimpered as he added a third finger. You could feel the stretch between your legs. Paired with the stimulation of your clit you couldn't hold back as the tension in your body released, Kirishima tighten his grip to keep you in place as you tried to jerk away from him.

Pleasure flooded your body and you wanted to collapse onto the mattress.

As you slowed your breathing he gently lowered you're ass so you could rest as he slowly removed his fingers from your drenched hole. He trailed kisses along your back while he praised you.

Finally he turned you on to your back. He was flushed, his hair falling around his face, and he had barely broken a sweat.

He removed his pants revealing his... monster cock. There was no other way for you to describe it. You had never been with someone who had such length AND girth. It looked like it was gonna break something in you.

No matter how hard you tried, Kirishima managed spread your legs. He took a moment to admire the mess he made before digging through a drawer on his nightstand.

You closed your eyes at the sound of the lube bottle opening. Kirishima applied a generous amount to his cock before using two fingers to rub the remaining substance into you.

"There we go," he whispered as he lined up his tip to your soaked cunt. "Just relax for me. Don't be afraid to hold on to me. I'm pretty sturdy."

The tip wasn't bad. You were thankful for the lube. You needed to hold on to him. Gripping your nails into his back as he continued to slide into you. You focused all your energy into your hands, afraid to move. Tears flowed freely from you now. The pain seared and you couldn't stop it.

"It hurts," your gasped. "So bad. Please no more."

Kiri paused.

"Shhh, bunny. I got you. We're almost there then we can give you another moment to adjust." He was running circles on your hips with his thumbs, wanting to provide you some form of comfort. He knew he was a challenge to take. It didn't help that you were so tight. "Take a deep breath for me."

You did, grateful for the momentary break. But as he instructed you to breathe out he shoved the remainder of his cock into you. A violent sob wracked your body. Kirishima hoped that the sooner you adjusted to his size the sooner you'd stop crying.

With him fully inside of you he rested for another moment. You were so tight that he was honesty surprised he fit. He brought a palm to the slightly swollen area of your lower belly. He applied just a bit of pressure before he began to slowly pulse in and out of you. You were still shaking but had quieted down.

When he no longer felt like you you were off the verge of passing out he was ready to help you feel good. He kept his palm against the bulge he was responsible before, but repositioned slightly so his thumb could make its way back to where it belonged - the swollen bud between your legs.

"God you're such a good girl. So tight and warm," he panted. "Gonna fuck you so good. Teach you that I'm the only man you need."

His speed began to pick up. While you were still in pain you began to feel the pressure expand within you once more.

Kirishima kissed the tears off your cheeks. He knew he was close, your walls clenching around his member. He was determined not to be too rough with you, at least not the first few times, but you were unintentionally wearing down his his resolve.

He nipped your neck harder than he should have, breaking the skin. You arched against his chest which allowed him to wrap his arms underneath you.

Kirishima felt like he couldn't get close enough to you as he pressed violently against you tender body. Another orgasm shot through your body causing you to clench even tighter around the cock inside of you.

"Fuckin hell," Kirishima groaned, "You take me so well bunny."

You felt a swell inside of you as he released inside you.

Your mind felt fuzzy with post orgasm bliss. Kirishima softened inside you, remaining in place as he showered you in praise. He began to withdraw from you, allowing his seed to drip past your puffy folds. He didn't leave you empty for too long. He used two of his fingers to push his fluid back into you. He used his other hand to pull you against his chest.

You were still tearful and the realization that he was using his fingers as a makeshift plug to keep his seed inside you was making you sob again.

"Don't cry bunny, you did such a good job. Once we calm down we can get in the shower. Then I'd got a little present for you since you're behaving so well."

You were not a fighter, you wished you were. You wanted to yell at him. To thrash and scream and make him stop holding you. But you weren't a fighter and you knew fighting him would do you no good. You would have to bide your time until you could make a run for it.

At least he hadn't been mean to you. And aside from (probably) breaking your pussy, he hadn't hurt you yet.

He was gentle getting you into the shower. You were washed first, his hands roaming your body and conditioning your hair. Then he helped settle you against the shower bar while he quickly took care of himself. After drying you off with the fluffiest towel he slipped one off his shirts over your head. It was just the right size to cover you ass.

He disappeared for a moment, leaving you sitting along the tub. There wasn't much for you to look at. The cabinets were locked and the room had no windows.

Kirishima was back, changed into comfortable sweat pants. He carried you with ease back to bed. The old sheets piled in a corner, he had replaced them with fresh linens.

Hopefully, he thought, this would make you more comfortable.

"Ready for your surprise?" He asked with a pointy grin.

You thought it was a rhetorical question but it looked like he was waiting for your response. Did you really want a surprise? No. But you probably didn't get much say so you merely shrugged your shoulders. He bounce out bed and went to rummage through one of his drawers.

He turned around to present a stuffed animal. It was a chunky shark, not too big but the perfect holding size.

"Look! I saw him and thought you would think he was cute. Don't forget to name him, 'kay?"

You clutched the toy to your chest. He knew you loved plushies. You mentioned it to him once and said you had them all over your apartment. The shark smelled like Kirishima.

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

tell me again | e. kirishima 

➳ tags ;; fem!reader, disgustingly tooth rotting fluff, super cliche confession scene, kinda fuckboy kiri

➳ wc ;; 1.4k

➳ a/n ;; sometimes you just gotta write some corny fucking romance tropes man. 

➳ plot ;; after kirishima ghosted you post your confession, you don’t really plan on seeing him again. naturally when he shows up to your dorm during finals week - you’re not exactly sure what to do. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

A knock on the door of your shared dorm room startles you out of a late night study session. At this time of night and during finals week - you don’t find yourself to be all that excited for whoever's at the other side. Your R.A., Iida is known for being a stickler and whatever news he brings won’t be good. 

You look over your shoulder at Mina, who instead of studying, has been playing 2048 on her laptop for the last hour. She looks back at you with an exasperated sigh leaving her lips, promptly pushing her laptop to the side. 

“Why is it always me who answers the door?” she groans. 

“Because you chose to study business,” you reply without missing a beat. She flips her middle finger off at you without a second thought but your nose is too deeply buried into your materials for you to care. 

The knocking gets more frantic as the seconds pass. 

“Coming!” she shouts it, irritation already filling her at whoever would be on the otherside. She swings it open, irritated beyond belief. In the midst of her preparing to cuss out whoever was on the other side at this hour, only a quarter of her sentence makes it out of her mouth. 

“Who the hell is -,” she stumbles, pauses. The words don’t even halfway make it out of her mouth before she blinks twice before stumbling back “Kirishima?” 

At this, your head snaps up to look behind you. You know you’re not visible from the door way, your desk opposite of view but you look anyway. You can’t see him but you can hear his voice. 

“Mina, hey - uh, is Y/N here? It’s uhm.. shit, I need to,” 

Mina crosses her arms above her chest, blocking Kirishima when he tries to look over her shoulder. You’re frozen in place and you think anyone in your position would be. 

Your.. relationship with Kirishima is complicated at best. You’d know him since you were freshman and after this semester, you’d managed to work out the courage to confess your feelings to him. You were certain he felt them back for you, ignoring his somewhat notorious reputation in hopes he was being genuine. He seemed awfully genuine to you. 

As it would be, you were met with rejection. It hurt but you weren’t worried about it either way. What you wanted was to remain friends, because Kirishima is awfully important to you. A confession shouldn’tve had made so much of a difference. You wished that’d been the case, anyway. 

But he.. left you like that. Left your friendship at the weird wits end where even when you saw each other on campus or elsewhere - there was no greeting. No hello or how are you. Uncomfortably, you faded into being strangers and you haven’t spoken to him in months.

“She’s not here,” 

Kirishima’s face twists up at the words. He looks over, just peers and shakes his head. 

“I can see the little colored lights that she keeps on to focus are on. I know she’s here. Please just let me talk to her,”

Mina turns her head slightly to make eye-contact with you. You shake your head softly, uninterested in what he has to say. Your heart feels too heavy. You know it’s kind of stupid but the wound feels fresh. Never-ending in how it aches. 

Mina doesn’t budge. 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you. Fuck off back to your dorm and leave us alone,” 

Mina pushes in on the door but he sighs, sticking his hand in even when she pushes in on it. He curses under his breath at the weight of it on his hand. Mina’s eyes go wide. 

“What the fuck are you -” 

“I know you can hear so I’ll just say it, shit” ― he curses under his breath but you catch ― “Even if Mina crushes my hand, please don’t though. You both know I don’t have health insurance,” 

You crack a warbly smile at the comment and Mina lets up but doesn’t open the door up. She keeps her hand steady on his, letting him writhe in mild pain. 

“I love you,” 

You freeze and so does Mina. Kirishima rests his forehead on the door with a soft sigh. Your heart skips a beat or two. You can’t keep track. 

“I know I fucked this up like.. really bad. When you told me you had feelings for me, at first it was.. I don’t know. It was like I couldn’t believe you,” 

You bite back tears as you listen to him. He can hear people in the rest of the dorm start to peek out but he doesn’t seem to stop.

“Shit, it was you. Not be corny but fuck like.. how the hell could I ever believed you liked me? Of all people, you chose me with a shitty fuckboy reputation and stupid haircut,” he laughs a little at this and so do you. 

“Kirishima..”  Mina mumbles

“It was too much. Like you’re so.. so much. But not in a bad way. Like the idea of being with you was just so damn overwhelming. And Bakugou told me not to be an idiot and ghost you but I was just so.. so scared,” 

You can hear the way his voice shakes. 

“I’ve never been with anyone seriously before and I’m kind of an idiot and I didn’t wanna fuck it all up. Like what if you realize half-way that it’s not me you want? What if.. what if we started dating and you realized that it was some kind of mistake?” 

“Eijirou...”

He smiles a little. The sound of your voice is soft like he remembers. He thinks it might be worth Mina breaking his hand if he gets to see you. 

“It was easier to break it off before it got serious, that’s what I thought. But then we didn’t talk for a few months and I was goin fuckin’ crazy thinking about you,” ― he laughs at the memory, drunk and dizzy from it ― “You don’t think you can miss one person so much. That just one person could mean so much to you.. like you’re incomplete without them there,’ 

You sniffle, wiping tears you hadn’t realized had fallen from your cheeks. 

“I think I’m in too deep. It was already too serious. I already.. loved you. I thought it’d be better if I just fucking.. ran here and told you,”  ― Mina opens the door up and steps to one side as you stumble towards it, tear eyed and in loose pajamas. Not confession ready in the least  ― “I thought maybe I’d get lucky and I’d have a chance of you at least.. forgiving me. Maybe if I was really lucky, you’d still like me too,” 

He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at you, mouth curved into a half smile. So sincere, like always. You wonder to yourself if there would ever be a way to love him less. 

“So uhm.. I’m sorry. And I love you.. and it’d be sick if you like.. loved me back but it’s not necessary. I’ll do whatever you want just.. I dunno. Be in my life again, maybe?”

You run into his arms but he catches you. You’re a half conscious mess, sniffling into him as you punch his shoulder. He chuckles but hugs you back, wincing as you hit him. 

“Of course I love you, you stupid asshole,”  ― you whine, hugging him even tighter  ― “Your timing is shit, y’know that? Stupid -” 

He pulls back and leans into you. Lets his mouth bump into yours clumsily until you melt into a placating kiss. It’s all too much Kirishima - a gentle swipe of tongue and sharp teeth. Sweet but not enough. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth. He’s too good at that, you think. 

“I know, but.. that’s why you like me right?” 

You roll your eyes, opting to keep clinging to him instead of replying. From behind you, Mina sighs. 

“I’m glad you stopped being a jackass but how the hell did you make it up here without Iida noticing,” 

From outside, there’s two loud but distinct voices. It’s Kaminari, screaming and Iida screaming back. When Mina walks over to peer outside, she catches an eyeful of a very naked and very drunk blonde. She cackles. 

“Uh.. I’ll just say I owe Kami a ton of money right mow,” 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[shotorozu]

hello! i hope you're doing well~

can i request headcanons (or with scenario if you'd like) where bakugo's s/o falls asleep on him while crying 🥺 and if it's okay with you, can s/o have the emotion deprivation quirk because i really loved those hcs you made before :)))

i really really love your blog btw. your writing is always sweet and fun to read ❤

passing out after crying on them

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, shinsou hitoshi

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, emotion deprivation quirk— the more you suppress your emotions, the more power you get.

headcanons : hurt and comfort, but mostly comfort.

note(s) : thank you for the love anon :)) i also added shinsou because i thought this concept fitted well with him too :))

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

you were really unreadable— you’d understand that because of the nature of your quirk. however, being with katsuki gave him the ability to read you and your mannerisms

if your nails dug into your palms, that probably meant that your day was shit, if you kept looking at your nails, it means you’re trying not to cry, and running your hands across the surface meant that you were happy.

and unfortunately, he caught the sight of you digging your nails into your hands, not enough to actually do any harm but.. enough to keep you ‘focused’

he wants you to be comfortable enough to go to him with your problems, but then again— it was always something you struggled with, so he wasn’t expecting it

so now you’re alone with him, walking along the corridors of the dorms— and none of you guys are saying much.

“get in here,” he says, grabbing your wrist as he yanks you into his room, immediately setting you down on his bed.

“i don’t know what happened with you, but i don’t fuckin like seeing it.” he sets your head on the soft pillows, an arm bringing you close in positions

“nothing really happened,”

“yeah? then why the hell were you doing that then?” his words sound rather harsh, but he’s not raising his voice at you “you know what i mean.”

“i’m sorry, it’s just.. exhausting. having to suppress my emotions for long periods of time. i don’t know what to do because i’ll..”

and that’s when you start crying, which was probably the last thing on your check list— you’re getting his pillows wet, he’s not saying anything, you can feel yourself getting weaker

all of the doubts in your head run wild, and bakugou only shoves your head onto his chest “idiot, stop it with the apologies already. just let go.”

and you do exactly that. you heave into his chest, bawling like it’s been forever since you’ve done so. you’re getting his shirt wet, but katsuki couldn’t seem to care— he’s just glad that his hands are emitting enough heat

your ragged breathing eventually blended into soft breathing— you don’t seem to be shaking in tremors anymore, and he’s glad

he takes a look at your face. you’re out like a baby, cheeks still damp and your eyelashes were wet with tears.

“idiot Y/N,” he mutters to himself, wiping your damp face with his thumb, “you’re out like a baby. you’re not gonna hear this but next time, don’t be so stiff with coming forward to me for help.”

“i’m the last person that’s gonna judge you, i do love you after all. it might not seem like it but i really really really do.” he presses a kiss against the back of your ear.

he’s going to try to not wake you up, as he gets up from the bed— sprinting downstairs to prepare some water that he’s gonna force you to drink down later

when you wake up, you bet he’s making you put a cool towel on your eyes, reducing the puffiness as he has you on his lap.

shinsou hitoshi

can also tell if you had a good or bad day, and he really hates seeing you so.. miserable.

he can tell that you have so many thoughts in that head of yours, because of that powerful quirk. those were one of the few times he wished he had aizawa’s quirk.

he frowns when he sees you suffer in absolute silence, even though you’re wearing the most neutral face he has ever seen, he can quite literally see it— because you’re fidgetting with your hands on your lap.

unlike bakugou, the first thing he’ll talk to you about is how you’re feeling— the moment you guys are alone.

don’t try to deny it, because he knows already— this is just him giving you a heads up, just letting you know that he’s about to coddle you.

actions speak louder than words in moments like this, he has you pressed against him on the bed— allowing your arms to wrap around his torso like lifeline

“you don’t have to say anything right now, Y/N.” he reassures you, “let it happen.”

as if it was on command, your eyes water— and you shove your head onto his shoulder, finally breaking the barriers you were desperately trying to keep up.

you’re vunerable, a mess, and hitoshi allows you to cry like there’s no tomorrow— only resting his hand on your back, rubbing soft circles there

when you start shaking, hiccups escaping your lips— he panics for a moment, because you’re on the cusp of going into a panic attack

but that’s also when his baritone voice starts giving out soft instructions on stabilizing your breathing pattern. his quirk would always be the very last option.

and when the storm has finally calmed, your eyes flutter— a sudden wave of sleepiness washing over you, and you just allow yourself to fall asleep in his hold

he sighs in relief, and he doesn’t care that his sweater suddenly became soaked with your tears, it allow him to carry some of your burden— he’s just holding you with all of his attention.

his violet irises soften in adoration, and he’s kissing your tears off your cheeks, moving anything out of your face.

hitoshi being hitoshi wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he’ll spend a good moment thinking about what he’ll talk about with you the moment you wake up, and he’ll pask you about your issue, and how he can help.

but for now, he’s just thankful that you have so much trust him— to the point you’re okay with being vunerable around him, and he’s just so proud of you.

“sleep well, kitten. i love you a lot, please remember that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters, boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i don’t profit off my hobby.

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 1/?

Pt 2 / pt. 3

A/n: kinda annoyed that I had to split this but it’s almost 2k words so,,,, another series is born!!!

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: omegaverse, obvi, yandere themes (my boi Izuku is a stalker), possessiveness, pining, hurt/comfort, reader is kinda dense, mad swearing,

“So are you and Bakugo like- ya know-?” Mina mimed what you assumed was meant to be a bonding bite, and you thanked god Katsuki was elsewhere.

You were sitting in the college park with Denki and Mina, and since you were approaching your 21st birthday, when alphas usually decided on their mate, or mates if they wanted a triad, and they were grilling you to high heaven-

“No, we’ve just know each other since we were teenagers so we’re just kinda close friends!” You waved your arms frantically, and Mina just raised her eyebrows as Denki laughed.

“Bro- we’ve seen him scent you, you’re always lending him your jackets that reeks of you, and you’re trying to say the two of you aren’t courting?” The blonde stopped laughing just long enough to ask, but he dissolved back into laughter when your flustered scent filled the space.

“I tried to bring it up with Katsuki but you know what he’s like! I asked what he was gonna do for his heat and he locked me out of the apartment! I don’t think he wants an alpha at all, really-“ you stopped the second your nose picked up the familiar burnt sugar smell, frantically shushing Mina and Denki when they made kissing noises as Katsuki approached.

“You forgot your fucking lunch, dumbass.” He dropped a bag in your lap, completely ignoring your friends as he inhaled and then gently shoved your head. “Why the fuck do you smell so worked up?” The hint of concern in his voice made your heart twinge, maybe you did wish things were different, but you pushed that thought aside as you reassured him nothing was wrong and you were just worried about a test. Katsuki believed you, barely, reminding you not to be late to dinner before he stalked off to god knows where, Denki and Mina bombarding you the second he was out of sight.

You were two minutes from home when you smelt it, an omegas scent that was so distressed it almost had you gagging. You back tracked your steps to where it was strongest, heart dropping when you couldn’t see down the alley but could hear some kind of scuffle. Katsuki was going to kill you. You walked down the alley as quietly as you could, the distressed scent only getting stronger and sending your protective instincts into overdrive, and if you weren’t so worried maybe you would have stopped to wonder why the omegas scent was affecting you so much.

“But you smell so sweet omega, surely you’re close to your heat?” That voice made your skin crawl, and the nails you had been digging into your palm were quickly turning into claws.

“I-I’m not really, please, I just want to go home- I’m sure you have places to be-“ the second voice trembled and your heart broke at the fear in it, that must be the omega.

“Bullshit, we can fuckin smell how much you want it-“ the third voice was accompanied by a thud, and distressed chirps followed, pushing you over the line and causing a growl to rip out of your throat.

“Well look here, somembody else wants to join-“ the sleazeballs voice cut off when you stepped into the light, your teeth bared with your canines extended, when an alpha was this pissed off the best thing to do was run. You kinda hoped they didn’t.

“Don’t worry man, we can all share him-“ The second one tried to passify you, but couldn’t help baring his neck in submission when you let out an even louder growl, your angered scent pumping off of you in waves.

“Leave. Now. Before I make sure the two of you never fucking mate anyone.” A feral grin spread over your face at their fearful scents, unable to resist tripping one of them when they ran past. Only once they’d disappeared onto the Main Street did you register the distressed chirps coming from the figure hunched on the ground, and your scent instantly switched to as comforting as you could get it, subconsciously crooning to try and calm the omega down. It seemed to work, and you gently crouched down across from him, desperately wanting to hug him but not wanting to over step. The decision was made for you, however, when the omega launched at you, rubbing his cheek against yours and thanking you over and over in one of the sweetest voices you’d ever heard.

“Hey no problem, uh, what’s your name?” You asked when he finally calmed down, pulling back just enough to take out his features. You almost got a nosebleed. Teary emerald eyes and matching green hair framed his face, with freckles dusting his cheeks and a slight blush covering his entire face, you were so in awe you almost didn’t hear his name.

“Sorry! I’m Izuku Midoryia- I live just down the street and was walking home when these guys chased me down here, thank you so much for saving me!” He hesitated, and you realised you hadn’t even told him your name.

“Oh! I’m y/n l/n! Do you live in the big blue apartment complex?” You gently stood up, reaching down to help Midoriya up with you, and ignoring how warm you felt when he immediately nuzzled into your side.

“Yeah! Do you know it? I only moved in a couple days ago!”

“I actually live there with my friend, I can walk you home if you’re comfortable with that?” You almost died when he let out a happy chirp, he was so cute.

“That would be so amazing, are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“Oh course not- anything to make sure you get home safely!

Midoriya had moved into the apartment opposite yours, (you were too tired to wonder if it was more than a coincidence) and the two of you had laughed about it before you said goodbye, promising to catch up again at a later date. Now, you were standing outside your apartment door, ready to face the music from what would surely be a very, very angry friend. Katsukis enraged scent hit you the second you walked in the door, almost completely covering the smell of the ramen that must have been dinner, and you called out as you took off your shoes.

“Katsuki, I’m home, sorry I’m so late! You wouldn’t believe what-“ you were cut off by a growl, slowly straightening up and looking across the room to where your housemate stood. Katsuki stalked towards you, and you froze when you saw how wide his pupils were blown, was he really that pissed about you being late?

“Why the fuck do you reek like some scared omega.” He snarled, and your eyes zoned in on how his fangs had elongated. Shit, this was bad, was he nearing his preheat? That could make make him more sensitive-

“Funny story- I was walking home and I heard this commotion and…” you trailed off when he reached you, red eyes fixed on your neck in a way that made you blush.

“I don’t care, you smell fucking disgusting.” He pulled you close once he reached you, and you were too scared to say anything, face going bright red when he rubbed his scent glands over you, until your scent just smelt like him.

“That’s better, now we can actually eat before you shower and get the remainder of that stench off of you.”

Katsuki didn’t know why he was so on edge, and when you came home smelling familiar, that mint and honey scent that he hadn’t encountered in years, his instincts had pushed him over the edge. You were his, how dare you let some other omega scent you? The two of you were practically together, he cooked for you and scented you, and you’d scent blankets and pillows and such for his nest, so why the fuck were you coming home reeking like that? He was just waiting until you turned 21 and had your rut for the two of you to seal the deal. He couldn’t sleep, growling to himself as he realised the only way he’d get any rest was with you. The apartment was dark as he quietly opened his door, walking down the hallway and not even hesitating before he opened the door to your room. You were asleep in the middle of the bed, hair a mess over the pillows and your shirt rumpled up so your midriff was exposed. The room was saturated in your content scent, and Katsuki let out a sigh of relief when that was all he could smell, other than his own scent quickly spreading through the room and mingling with yours. He padded over to the bed, crawling under the covers and positioning himself so he was facing you, his face pressed to your neck and one arm thrown over you. You mumbled something in your sleep but didn’t wake, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a happy chirp when you automatically rested your arm on his waist, pulling him closer till your legs were tangled together. It was… more peaceful than he was used to, and he pushed down the nagging feeling that something was missing, your scent and warmth quickly lulling him to sleep.

[lacontroller1991]

FEBUWHUMP DAY 24: Rick Flag x F!Reader

Febuwhump Master List || Main Master List

Day 24: Too Weak to Move

Warnings: medical jargon, mention of that one scene, language, blood, surgery recovery, pain medicine

If it had not been for the monitor constantly beeping at a steady pace, you would not be able to tell if Rick Flag was breathing, or if he was alive. The only indication that the colonel is alive is the increase/decrease of lines, displaying his slow, irregular heart rate.

After killing Starro, you went back through the rubble to find his body and to take him home to give him a proper burial, but when you found a very faint pulse, hope spiked up in you as you called over the medics, which leads to now, you sitting by his beside with your head buried in your arms.

“Ya know you should prolly get some rest sweet cheeks, we can watch Flag,” Harley comments empathetically, rubbing a soothing hand over your back but you decline her offer, having made a promise to yourself that you would not leave his side. Not again.

“Thanks Harls, but I think I’ll stay here.” She gives you a small smile before her and DuBois walk away. Gently, you take Rick’s hand in yours and softly kiss his bruised knuckles, wishing you could heal him with the power of your love. In that moment, you feel a slight twitch in your hand and immediately look at his face for any sign of movement. “Rick? Baby, can you hear me?” A small groan leaves his lips and you jump back in surprise, tears welling in your eyes. After his emergency surgery, the doctor had told you that it was a very low chance of him waking up, and even if he did, it would be an insanely long road for recovery. Rick’s career is practically over from a physical standpoint, he would no longer be in tiptop shape to do Waller’s bidding, and a sick part of you is grateful for that, but you know how much the Task Force meant to Rick. 

Slowly his hazel eyes open, eyelids rapidly blinking to take in the light and his surroundings before he attempts to sit up but you’re quick to push him back down. “Don’t sit up baby, just lay down.” You scoot your chair closer to his bed, a hand making its way to his hair and petting his matted hair as your lip quivers. He came close to death. Too close, and you don’t know what you would do if he had died. 

“Water,” you quickly reach for the jug of water and place the straw in his mouth, watching as he greedily sucks down the clear liquid. After drinking all the water, he lets his head fall back onto the pillow and turn to look at you. “what are you doin’ here?” The question takes you aback as you try to cover the hurt.

“What do you mean? Where else would I be?”

“Thought you said you didn’t need me. That I’m just your commander,” he attempts to sit up but the stitches on his chest make that an impossible feat, so instead, he just lays back and stares up at the ceiling.

You hang your head, bringing your lips to the back of his hand and leaning against his arm. “I’m sorry I said those things. I didn’t mean it Rick. You’re so much more than my commander. You’re my best friend. You’re my partner. I love you. And when I found out what that asshole did... when I heard about what happened from Cleo, I regretted every fuckin’ word. I thought I didn’t need you, baby. I really thought I could do everything by myself, but in that half an hour where I didn’t know if you were dead or alive, I realized how wrong I was. Because the truth is...” you turn your head, trying to usher the tears back in before returning to look at Rick, who turned his head once again to face you, listening to your proclamation. “I need you, Rick. I need you so bad, and I can’t live without you. I don't want to live without you. I am so sorry for what I said, and I really hope you can forgive me, because I am so in love with you.” 

His hand flips over so he takes your smaller hand in his, his thumb running over your knuckles as he ponders your words.

“What happened to the drive?” He asks casually as you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“DuBois used it to bargain for our freedom. I know you wanted it to be released to the press, but DuBois got all of us free. You and me, we’re free, Rick. I’m no longer a prisoner and you’re no longer commander of that hell,” his eyes find their way to yours, looking for the lie but finding none.

“We’re free?”

“We’re free,” you confirm with a smile as one traces it’s way on his face. “Well, in that case,” he groans in pain as he attempts to move again before giving up. “What the hell did they do to me?”

“You’re pretty high on pain meds right now, your body needs time to recover and it’s gonna be a while.”

“How dosed up am I?”

“High. I’m surprised you’re even conscious right now.”

“How long is recovery gonna take?” You sigh, grabbing his chart and reading it with ease, gulping at the prognosis.

“A solid 9 months baby. Most of that’s gonna be in a hospital,” you reply sympathetically as he groans, looking around the room.

“Well, I suppose we can plan a wedding in here.” You furrow your brows, looking at him in confusion. He nods to the bag that contains his clothes. “Look in the bottom right pocket,” you hesitantly get up and walk over to his clothes, pulling out his pants and fishing around until your fingers pull out a small box. Your head whips over to Rick.

“Ricky? What is this?” He smiles softly, slightly beckoning you over to his side and you’re quick to fall next to him, looking for answers. He weakly takes the box out of your hand and pries it open, huffing at the lack of mobility. Inside rests a thin gold band with a marquise diamond sitting on top, sparkling in the hospital lights. “Oh baby. It’s gorgeous.” He offers you the box and you take it, inspecting the ring.

“I was gonna propose to you once you were free, and I never knew when that was gonna happen so I always just carried it around,” he admits as tears of joy well in your eyes.

“What does this mean?”

“Will you marry me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

@febuwhump 

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[piratesfromspace]

You Again (Frank Castle/Reader)

Frank Castle (the Punisher) x Reader

Word count: 1.5k TW: light description of wound and bruises, implied rape attempt, mention of alcohol, canon-typical violence, reader has ✨issues✨

Female pronouns for reader

Note: Some hurt/comfort with Frank Castle. For unknown reasons, reader can’t go see a normal doctor. This story was inspired by an unpublished fanfic written by a dear friend of mine, in which Frank already helps reader.

MASTERLIST

“You. Again.”

You never had been so happy to hear his gruff voice. 

“And you’re a fuckin’ mess.” Frank added, tone flat.

“You should see the other guy.” you croaked, trying as best as you could to smile despite the cut on your lower lip.

You were, indeed, a mess. 

Battered and bloody, you were sitting - or more accurately slouching - on the dirty floor, in front of one of Castle’s hideouts door, on a random Tuesday night. Your right hand was badly hiding the knife’s wound on your stomach, the gash in your blood-soaked T-shirt obvious behind your feeble fingers. Angry bruises were already blooming around your wrist, adding yet another painful layer to your miserable appearance. 

“Fuck.” He let the word slip between gritted teeth while scanning your body. You were not in great shape. 

“Fine, come here, don’t bleed out on my front porch.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, while you tried to put yourself on your feet, before admitting you were too weak to accomplish the simple task.

“I-I can’t... stand up.” 

Frank closed his eyes for a second, exhaling through his nose, just like he would do to try and calm himself to avoid scolding a child. He eventually crouched beside you, slipping an arm under the crook of your knees, and the other behind your shoulders, gathering you in his arms and lifting you effortlessly like you weighed nothing. 

The door closed behind him thanks to a powerful kick of his foot, and you finally allowed yourself to relax a little, feeling safe for the first time in days. 

The dingy flat was nowhere near the level of comfort you would wish for yourself, but he was here, in this room, breathing and alive and focusing on you, and that was all that mattered at this moment. 

---

“I’m the first choice when it comes to patching you up I guess.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t have come if I had any other option.”

Frank was trying his best to stitch the wound on your stomach without hurting you too much, but the lack of anesthesia was making it difficult. The witty banter was one way of distracting you, and you were grateful for it.

“Done.” 

The needle clattered on the plate he had put on the floor next to the mattress you were lying on. You let out the breath you were holding, pain slowly radiating through your whole body, making his lazy way from the cut on your belly to the rest of your limbs, awakening in its path the dozens of bruises littering your skin. Your vision got blurry for a moment, ears ringing.

“Hey, stay with me.” his hand was on the side of your face, cradling your cheek while avoiding to touch the cuts on your lips. His warm and callused fingertips against your cheek gently brought you back to reality. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, cataloguing every cut and scratch, and you did not miss the way his eyes just narrowed for a second when they fell on your neck, his fingers hovering above the bruises there. 

“Are you hurt elsewhere?”

“No.” you knew the moment the word escaped your mouth that you had answered way too fast and way too loud for you to be believable.

“You’re so bad at lying it hurts to see you try, you know?”

“I’m f-fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Since you’re the one bleeding on MY mattress, I would argue that it’s also my business now.” 

Your defense was pathetic and he was so patient with you, you wondered why you had to be such a defensive jerk sometimes. You slouched a little more, you wanted to disappear into his mattress. 

“Truth is… I-I don’t really know.” 

“Let me take a look.” It was not a question, but he waited nonetheless for you to nod your approval before helping you shimmy out of your torned jeans. You winced, the movement cruelly reminding you of the freshly stitched wound on your abs. 

“Do I need to kill someone?” was his only reaction when the galaxy of black and purple bruises on your thighs appeared from under your pants. 

“He’s already dead.” 

He knew you were not lying this time, the proudness in your soft voice too earnest to be faked. 

“What happened?” he asked, voice so low and caring, like he was talking to a wounded animal.

“You know what happened.” you answered sternly.

Frank wasn’t dumb and it would only take half a brain to do the maths and understand the situation given the bruises on your neck, wrists and thighs, and the broken zipper of your jeans.

“Do you need medication? Something for...” he seemed lost all of a sudden.

“No, Frank, I killed him before anything happened. That was the plan.”

“The plan? You planned on being attacked and… “ he froze, his mind working to make sense of your words. He quickly understood, his expression suddenly changing. If he was looking sorry a few seconds ago, now he was angry.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been up with this vigilante bullshit again?” 

“That’s rich coming from you.” you scoffed.

“You’re not a 6-foot-tall trained marine.”

“That’s the point, I can easily lure those guys, unlike you.” You cut him off.

“You should have told me first.”

“What? I don’t need your permission.”

“You need my protection.” he was starting to lose his patience.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Says the girl bleeding on my doorstep.” he snorted.

The bastard got a point.

“At least I’m trying to be useful.” you retorted, in a low blow, a foolish attempt to not lose too quickly.

“You won’t be useful when you’re dead.”

“Right now I wish I was.” you grumbled, running out of replies.

“Don’t you ever say that again.”

“Fuck you Frank. Fuck you.” 

He was tiring. You should have known you had zero chance of winning this argument from the get go. You couldn’t even go and dramatically slam the door on your way out. Your shaking legs would barely carry you up. Ok, maybe, just maybe, he was right. Maybe it was a bad idea, and your injured body was just the proof of his implacable logic.

Frank rose on his feet slowly, a hand rubbing on the back on his head - he always did that when he was stressed and thinking too much. 

“Stay here until you’re somewhat healed.” his eyes were avoiding yours, his voice too soft whereas you wished he would be mad, because he would be way easier to fight him this way. “Please.”

It’s not like you were physically able to go anywhere else, and truth be told it’s not like you wanted to go anywhere else. The hurt in his voice made your heart clench. You had been unfair, just like usual. A stupid defense mechanism.

You thought about the last time he had to patch you up. A mean fever. Found you unconscious in a dark alley. Frank had taken good care of you, slowly bathed you in cold water to lower the fever, before tucking you against him under a blanket and nursing you back to life the following days. He had even kissed you that first night, and the next morning, when you felt better, he had pressed his body against yours and made you feel even better, this time with different means than some cold water. The memory of his kindness contrasting with your current ungratefulness had you on the verge of tears. 

You were mad at yourself. 

“I’m-I’m sorry.” you offered after what seemed like an eternity. 

”And… thank you.” you added, trying your best to not burst out crying right there. 

Castle said nothing, he just left for the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, before squatting next to you and handing you the precious liquid. You gulped the whole shot down, you had not realized before how parched you were. 

“You lost some blood, that’s why you’re dehydrated.” he explained matter of factly, voice devoid of hurt or anger, like your little scene had not existed. And that’s why I’m saying nonsense, you thought to yourself.

“I’ll bring you some more.” 

Before he could rise up again, you reached out to touch his face. The sudden movement sent sparks of pain through your guts but you did not flinch. His eyes bore into yours and you closed the distance between you. The kiss was soft then fierce, it felt like finally letting go of something that was burning you from the inside, your injury forgotten the second his lips touched yours. The taste of blood in your mouth was soon replaced by the taste of him and the lingering notes of the whiskey he surely drank before you arrived. 

Castle fell slowly on his knees, carefully hugging you, breaking the kiss only to bury his face in the crook of your neck and whisper inaudible praises between two “silly girl”. 

You closed your eyes. It felt like finally being home. Finally being safe.