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izurou · 1 year

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STOP TELEPHONING ME FT. BLUE LOCK MEN

features: shidou ryusei, michael kaiser, mikage reo, itoshi sae, bachira meguru, and when someone calls you during sex.

contains: female reader. pro! blue lock charas. penetrative sex. oral sex. fingering. semi public for reo and bachira. a creampie from sae. brief filming in shidou’s. she and her pronouns used. you or him are on the phone in all of them so yeah !!

note: these are so long for hcs i am so sorry about that

SHIDOU RYUSEI

one of the sweetest things about ryusei, is that his camera roll is filled to the brim with you.

countless rows of what seems like every image of you ever—screenshots of your instagram stories, all those pictures you’ve sent with the message do i look ok attached, and of course—the dozens of photos he’s snapped of you himself.

sweet indeed—although, he’s still him, and so this habit of his isn’t all innocent admiration and good intentions. he has zero hesitation when it comes to filming you during sex—it’s a nasty side effect of his little obsession and, even nastier, he prefers leaving that type of media on your phone; sweet videos of him with his cock stuffed inside you.

so when he’s doing just that—using your device to record himself fucking you from behind, and the words can i help you suddenly leave his mouth—your heart nearly stops. did he really just? with a reluctant glance over your shoulder, you find him holding your phone up to his ear, grinning. he did.

“ryusei! what the fuck? who’s—” you attempt to scold him through an aggressive whisper, but get cut off by your own gasp when he pushes down on the side of your head—forcing your cheek flat against the mattress. he rolls his hips forwards with a breathy laugh, and you can’t help but melt into the cotton sheets and moan when he does so—being effortlessly tamed by the thickness of his cock.

“oh? you sure you wanna talk to her? she’s a little busy right now,” he sneers into the receiver, grin tripling in both size and arrogance when he looks down and sees your face—scrunched up in pure ecstasy as you fist the fabric on either side of your head. yeah, busy being all fucking his.

nevertheless, he thinks it’d be rude of him to not transfer the call over—this person went through the effort of dialling your number, after all.

so he tucks your phone between his shoulder and his ear, and uses both hands to pull you upright—flush against his chest. with his left hand latching onto your throat, and his right now holding your phone a couple inches from your ear, he purrs, “it’s for you, babydoll. wanna say hi?”

there’s a beat of silence, and then you hear it, a voice seething with anger—one that belongs to none other than your ex boyfriend. shit.

you’re holding your breath now—hoping that if you can remain silent, he’ll give up on his attempt to reach you altogether. a decent plan—but not for someone who’s currently dating the world’s biggest instigator. “c’monnnn, at least tell him how good your boyfriend’s fuckin’ you.”

he hums in content as his left hand travels south—between your tits and eventually, onto your clit. he uses his middle finger to rub tight circles, and with his cock still pressing kisses to your sensitive spots, with his tongue dancing across your neck—a whine slips out from between your lips.

and your ex hangs up—spewing a few unsavoury comments about your boyfriend before doing so.

“awwww, we were just getting to the best part,” ryusei whines, but he doesn’t stay down for long. “get ready to cum for me baby, and don’t fuckin’ hold back. we’re gonna leave him a voicemail.”

MICHAEL KAISER

when it comes to you, michael is both equal parts selfish and selfless.

he’s great at sharing. everything from his clothing to his habits—routines he’s stuck with for years, changed, because he wants his luxe life to be something you can experience with him.

like tonight, for instance—where a past version of himself would have returned home from practice, and immediately gotten into a hot bath to loosen his sore muscles. present him is in fact relaxing in a hot bath after a rather shit practice, but present him also has a pretty girl to help him wind down.

and while your boyfriend has no problem sharing with you, hell would freeze over before he’d share you. you’re his, and though he seldom allows his possessive behaviour to control him—it seems to linger on his shoulders nonetheless, particularly after a bad day.

you’re doing your best to lift his spirits—bouncing on his cock, pressing needy kisses along his inked neck—when your phone starts buzzing against the tiled ledge surrounding the tub. he knows you’ve been expecting an important call, but he doesn’t want you to stop—he’s not going to let you stop. even so, he’d be a pretty bad boyfriend if he ignored the call altogether, so he’ll answer it himself—seeing as you’re preoccupied.

“hello?” his voice is smooth, nonchalant—a little too much so. you still your movements, watching expectantly as michael’s gaze shift to yours. he smiles before continuing, as if he’s softening the impending blow. “an interview? sure, let me pass you to her.”

his eyes darken ever so slightly as he holds your phone out, mouthing the words take it.

you obey your boyfriend’s command with a little too much confidence—bringing the device up to your ear and barely managing a hello of your own before michael has you cupping a hand over your mouth with a sharp thrust of his hips. he doesn’t stop there either—grabbing onto your waist tight, more or less holding you still as he begins fucking into you at a steady pace.

“uh, i-i’m,” your mind goes blank as the voice of your potential employer rings in your ears with a simple question—what does your availability look like? michael is eavesdropping of course, sucking feverishly at the delicate skin on your neck as he strains to hear the conversation.

“monday through friday my love, isn’t that right?” he purrs into your opposite ear—handing you the answer on a silver platter. he wants you to get at least one response out before he inevitably, but indirectly ends the call. maybe it’s his sour mood tainting his train of thought, but the future where you have a job—is one where you have less time for him, less time for this. he doesn’t want that. “because you’re all mine on the weekends, aren’t you? such a precious girl, letting me fuck you like this. i don’t know what i’d do without you, baby.”

the words drip from his mouth like honey, sweet and genuine. it’s times like these that prove how scary love is, because in the heat of the moment—you’re convinced that you don’t really want this job, that all you want is to be his.

the water sloshes against the walls of the bathtub as you crumble onto his shoulder with a whine—phone silent and blank as it sits uselessly in your hand. michael runs his palms up and down your back in an attempt to soothe the upset he just assisted in—cock jumping when you sit up and pout at him.

“you’ll definitely get the next one, my love. in the meantime, this can be your full time job,” he grins—smug, but not insincere in the slightest. “you’re already a perfect fit.”

MIKAGE REO

reo, prim and proper at first glance—the perfect textbook gentleman, is anything but.

he has the courteous mannerisms down to a tee, all charming smiles and soft touches as he opens the door to his luxurious car—holding out a hand to help you inside. once you’re seated, he’ll do an adorable little jog over to the driver’s side because—keeping a pretty girl waiting just isn’t right.

his chivalry ends there though, because a parking lot is the perfect place for you to suck him off, he thinks.

and oh, how absolutely perfect you are—leaned over the centre console with your tongue swirling around his tip. he can’t help but pant a little as he lets his head fall back against the seat.

but his euphoria is short lived, because the sound of your ringtone fills his vehicle almost as quickly as it kills the mood—bluetoothed and displaying a name on the dashboard’s touch screen. seishiro. reo figures he’s only calling you to ask about him, but it’s awfully late, and while he has no reason to distrust his best friend—he finds himself curious, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation.

so, he taps his finger on the little green button.

“ynnn,” nagi’s voice emanates from the speakers—syllables drawn out and on the whinier side. you peer up at reo, and he’s looking down at you, eyes heavy with anticipation as he waits for a follow up. “are you with reo?”

your boyfriend visibly relaxes upon hearing that—and with his curiosity fed, he reaches forward to hang up, but—you swat his hand away.

“no, why? what’s up?” you hold eye contact with reo as you speak—ghosting your lips over his tip before licking up his shaft and taking him back into your mouth. you’re hoping that nagi will start to ramble, because if he does—reo will have to stay quiet, or at least attempt to.

and nagi happens to want an unreleased game, one that reo could pull a few strings and get his hands on if he wanted to—all things the voice on the other end is in the midst of explaining. he’s mere background noise though, because your attention is solely on reo and his cock.

you hold him near the base, using your hand to pump whatever your mouth can’t accommodate. reo shifts in his seat—biting down on the knuckle of his index finger as he goes one on one against the urge to buck up into your face, because that’d really conjure up a sinful sound.

and reo worries he might draw blood when you hum against him—sending vibrations throughout the length of his cock, and oh fuck, he’s so close. his brows knit together as he taps frantically on the screen—ending the call. he cums seconds later, head thrown back in pleasure as he groans and gasps through his orgasm.

“c’mere,” he breathes heavily—cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips onto yours for a messy kiss. “you wanna sit on it, sweetheart? we can head to the backseat.”

ITOSHI SAE

it might not seem like it, but there’s nowhere sae would rather be on his day off than here.

sitting on a small padded bench inside the private fitting room of a store, with you straddling his lap in a little floral mini dress. he figures that if he’s going to blow this much money on so little fabric, he might as well trial the garment’s true purpose—sex whenever and wherever he wants.

and now, as he watches you grind down onto the growing bulge in his pants—dress bunched up at your waist with one of the straps slipping off your shoulder, he can definitely see himself getting his money’s worth.

he’s just getting into it—running his hands over your ass and hips, tangling his fingers around the lace of your panties—when your phone starts to ring. at first, neither of you even acknowledge the sound, but it persists with a second call, and out of his peripherals—sae sees his manager’s name sitting the top of the screen. great, so much for your alone time.

“hello?” your voice is soft, and yet it still manages to catch your boyfriend off guard. during his brief sulk, you’ve not only answered the call, but put it on speaker as well. “is everything alright?”

the words i need to talk to sae come through, and you feel the breeze from his eye roll. you run your fingers through the hair at the back of sae’s head, pulling him a little closer as you continue to move your hips. he nuzzles into your neck soon after—eyes heavy as he watches your movements in the floor to ceiling mirror directly across from him.

“sorry, no can do. you know he needs the break,” you hum into the receiver, and you swear sae’s grip on you tightens. he loves it when you defend him like this—he thinks it’s hot.

so hot—he just can’t keep it in his pants anymore. he’s unbuttoning and unzipping—pushing fabric out of the way until his cock is springing free, and finally, he’s sinking into your cunt.

a breathy fuck falls from his lips as he leans his head back against the wall—staring up at you like you’re some kind of deity, which—in this dress, just might be true. his nails carve into your hips as he drags you along his shaft, and oh—it’s so easy for him to get carried away when you’re hugging him so tight.

“he’ll call you first—first thing in the morning.” you fumble over your words a little when the head of sae’s cock presses against a sensitive spot, but you get the response you wanted nonetheless—a that’s good thank you, and the call ends there.

a reward worthy performance, he thinks.

“oh god, sae,” you whine—and he buries his face back into the crook of your neck, recognizing the familiar knot unraveling just below his waist. his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he cums hard, breathing heavy against your skin as he watches the mirror’s reflection through hooded lids—staring intently as white starts to leak out of you, and down the side of his cock.

“careful, you’re gonna ruin the dress,” he mutters—knowing full well that the sticky mess is all him. “guess i have to buy it now, huh?”

BACHIRA MEGURU

meguru’s fatal flaw is his attention span, or rather—his lack thereof.

the dinner reservation was at seven—a table for four. you, him, and two representatives from a sports brand that’s interested in sponsoring him.

it’s a few minutes past the hour, and the other duo is evidently running a little late—no big deal, but your boyfriend thinks otherwise. he’s sitting with his chin in his palm, twirling a straw around his fingers, and crumbling under the weight of his boredom. unfortunately, you don’t think this is an establishment that’d have a colouring page and some crayons for him, but not to worry—he’s just found something else to entertain himself.

“meguru, behave,” you shoot him a glance as he scoots closer—hearing him mutter a yes ma’am, but still feeling his hand beneath your skirt a few seconds later. he brushes his middle finger over the thin fabric of your panties—gently rubbing over your clit before he begins tracing what you think are hearts onto your cunt.

your gaze floods with desire—a look that meguru knows well, and loves dearly. he’s getting excited now, tail wagging with delight, because he knows that you’ll let him continue—so long as he doesn’t make it obvious to anyone in the room.

this means that, when one of the representatives suddenly starts calling you, he technically doesn’t have to behave.

“hello?” you bring your phone up to your ear, and at the same time—meguru’s hand slips past the waistband of your panties. he sighs in content—slouching back in his seat and lolling his head to the side. you’d almost think he was the one being touched. “w-what? you can’t find it?”

ah, so you’re saying they’re lost—which loosely translates to you have more time to play. good.

using his index and ring finger to spread you open—he sinks his middle into your warm cunt, curling it upwards and moving his hand side to side a bit. meanwhile, the voice on the other line is begging for directions, and you’re struggling to give them.

you lean into meguru’s side and hold his wrist—not to stop his movements, but to limit them, at least until you manage to get off the phone. but your boyfriend—sweet as pie and smart when it’s convenient for him, presses a kiss to your temple, and decides that he’ll take care of it for you.

“look for the big arena tour billboard, we’re right below that. see you soon,” he leans in and hums happily into your phone, and the rep thanks him before hanging up. with time now running out, he brings all three of his fingers up to your clit, where he rubs tight circles. “mmm, i don’t wanna stop, baby. wanna make you cum.”

“megs, that’s them!” you squeak—spotting two well dressed, important looking people scurrying past a window on the opposite side of the room. you claw at meguru’s wrist—but his fingers stay glued to your clit for as long as possible, and he ends up pulling away mere seconds before they round the corner.

he’s all innocent smiles and waves as the two approach the table—not so subtly licking up the side of his middle finger, which—wouldn’t be so awful if there were more than just drinks on your table. either way, it’s swept under the rug, and the four of you begin introducing yourselves while looking over the menu.

and your phone is on silent at this point, but it lights up with one new message from meguru.

bathroom in 5? <3 i know what i wanna eat ;)

#izurou #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock hcs #shidou x reader #shidou smut #kaiser x reader #kaiser smut #reo x reader #reo smut #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae smut #bachira x reader #bachira smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x you

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 2 years

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in my hearts of hearts I so deeply believe in the importance of more women shopping in the men's clothing section. particularly gender conforming cis women. hear me out:

pockets. pockets pockets pockets. huge pockets. even in skinny jeans and short shorts. pockets are high priority in men's clothes, and designers are not willing to sacrifice them unless absolutely necessary. even the pajamas and swimsuits have pockets big enough to hold your phone. the audacity

better quality & value. men's clothing is consistently made to last longer. you will find better fabric quality, craftsmanship, and general durability in the men's section.

"men's" clothes might fit you better. clothing is way more gender neutral than you've been taught to think. for dresses and stuff you'll still need the women's section, but you'd be surprised at how well "men's" pants, shorts, shirts, and jackets can fit different bodies. in fact, I would go so far as to say that men's clothes are designed to fit a wider variety of body sizes and shapes than women's clothes. if you are one of the many many women who don't fit the ridiculous cookie cutter mold of modern women's fashion, you may very well have better luck in the men's section.

(this includes people with big chests! being designed for broader shoulders also translates into extra tiddy storage space.)

(plus, universal sizing systems based on your actual measurements.) (pro tip for shorter folks: cuffing or hemming pants is the easiest alteration in the world. you can literally just use safety pins.)

you can still find "feminine" things. it's becoming easier & easier to find "men's" clothes in the bright colors/patterns, tighter fits, and shorter hems traditionally associated with women's fashion. shorts are particularly great--you can find lots of mid-thigh versions that are almost identical to women's shorts, but with bigger pockets and a little more coverage.

(also, as most trans people are already aware, people are pretty eager to assume that everyone around them is cis. I guarantee that you'd be shocked at how many people won't realize you're wearing "men's" clothes. they'll just see a women wearing clothing that fits.)

bonus: it's easier to find stuff that's not see-through/doesn't show bra straps. the irony of this is deeply insulting.

in general clothing manufacturers feel able to pull way more bullshit on female customers. a great way to tell them to FUCK OFF is by spending your money elsewhere. your life will become much comfier in the process!

WARNING: consistently shopping in the men's section may accustom you to new levels of comfort and lack of body-conciousness, and make it difficult for you to return to shopping in the women's section. you may find yourself no longer able to put up with previously normalized levels of bullshit. you may find yourself sewing huge pockets into skirts & dresses, because that is the new baseline you demand of all your outfits. these symptoms may become even more pronounced if you start wearing supportive wide-toed walking shoes.

#I'm not saying women should stop dressing as women #I'm saying many women would be dressing like better dressed women if more of their clothes came from the men's section #because men's clothing isn't designed for men. it's designed for people #and women's clothing. generally is not.#I'm generalizing but: men's clothes is more likely designed for people to live in #while women's clothing is often designed for objects to exist in. except those objects are our bodies

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sinnersweets · 4 months

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DogDay x Reader part 5

<----- part 4, part 6 ——->

A/N: 2k words this time! Enjoy!!

As I laid in bed, I couldn’t seem to get DogDay out of my thoughts. I knew today would be a hard day for him since Darla was leaving Playcare. To him it probably felt like his kid was being taken away from him. The longer I started to think about it the more I thought about myself in his position. Yes, I’ve only been working there for a week but already I have a close connection with Damian. As I thought of Damian, I turned on my phone to see my lock screen. I changed it to the picture I took of his drawing yesterday. I looked at the time and saw that I had extra time before my alarm went off for work. I decided to head to the store and pick out a card for DogDay.

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Sitting in the cable car I started writing a heartfelt message for DogDay until on the TV a cartoon started to play. Odd. Usually music would play but this time I guess they wanted to change it up. “S-M-I-L-E every day!” I watched as the intro to Smiling Critters played out. I haven’t seen any of the episodes, but Damian did tell me about the show. I smiled when DogDay appeared on screen. He looked just like his cartoon version but tall and life like.

“DogDay says ‘When you see someone without a smile, give them one of yours!’” The screen went black as the cable car came to a stop. That was a cute cartoon. I tucked the card away and stepped out of the cable car and headed to my office.

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I opened my door and saw DogDay was laying down on his bed looking sad until he saw me and sat up with a smile on his face. “Angel!” I shut the door behind me and set my bag down onto my desk. “Morning DogDay. Did you sleep well?” I went over to him and gave him a hug around his neck. He rested his head on my body and sighed. “Not really Angel. Anytime a kid from my group gets adopted I always get so sad.” I moved one of my hands behind one of his ears and started to scratch him there.

DogDays tail started to wag, and he started thumping his foot. "No need for sorrow, let joy appear, with your Angel near, all troubles disappear." I sang out to him. DogDay pulled away and looked at me with such awe. “Did my Angel just sing for me?” I laughed a little nervously. “Yes?” I was quickly brought into a hug and could see his tail wagging faster. “I can’t believe I had the pleasure of hearing my Angel sing for me! Hearing you sing has made me feel much better.” I hugged him around his neck and laughed. “I’m glad to hear that.” He brought me back down onto the ground but his face was pretty close to mine. “Could you sing for me again Angel?” “Tell you what, anytime you’re feeling down I’ll sing for you okay?” “Okay!”

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Me and DogDay oversaw decorating the outside of Home Sweet Home for Darla, so we started with streamers. I was on the roof while DogDay wrapped some streamers around the railing. “Be careful Angel.” I heard DogDay call out to me. “Relax, I used to climb onto roofs all the time when I was little to see the sunrise; I’m a pro.” I saw him chuckle and shake his head. We both went back to decorating.

After a while the house was decked out with streamers and balloons. “Looks great Angel! Now come on down so we can head into the Playhouse for today.” DogDay held the ladder steady waiting for me. I started to slide down to the ladder but then heard a notification from my phone. I went to go check my phone but felt that my phone wasn’t in my pocket anymore. I looked around and saw that it was just a few feet in front of me. “Hang on I need to get my phone.” I scooted back up and reached over to my phone. I picked it up and turned it over to see the notification but instead saw a little spider on the screen. “AH!” I dropped my phone so fast and started to scoot backwards as fast as possible. In doing so I scooted all the way to the edge of the roof and slipped off. “I gotcha Angel!” DogDay pushed the ladder away barely catching me in time. The weight of my fall and him not expecting to catch me made him fall onto the ground while I landed right on top of him.

DogDay groaned as he sat up and rested his front paws behind him. My face was buried into DogDays chest. Thankfully when he caught me his pendant moved out of the way. “Are you alright Angel? What happened?” I pushed myself off his chest but was still sitting on top of him. “I’m so sosososo sorry! There was a spider on my phone, and I hate spiders- and I freaked out but I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” “I’m fine Angel. Glad that I caught you.”

“Woah- Am I interrupting something?” Me and DogDay both turned our heads to see KickenChicken grinning down on us. I saw how I was sitting on DogDay and blushed super hard. I quickly got off him and brushed myself off. “Nononono we were just um- putting up decorations for Darla!” DogDay got up after me and stepped in front of me a little. “KC why aren’t you with your group?” DogDay sounded cheerful but also a little annoyed that he was here. “Relax DD. I have extra time to spare and was making my way to the school until a phone out of nowhere smacks me on the head.” In his hand was my phone. “Oh gosh I’m so sorry about that KickenChicken. Thank you for picking it up.” I went to go reach for my phone, but DogDay had taken it from him.

It was silent for a few seconds before KickenChicken spoke. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your guy’s...uh thing...Welp I’ll go ahead and take my leave.” KickenChicken started to walk away before turning his head back and saying, “See ya later, Angel.” As he walked away, I heard DogDay start to growl. I put my hand on his paw, and he stopped and looked down at me. “Hey what's wrong?” “Hearing him call you Angel...it sounded weird coming from him. I didn’t like that.” Was he jealous? I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Don’t worry, hearing him call me that doesn’t give me the same feeling as when you do it.” I immediately froze up after what just came out of my mouth.

I saw DogDays ears perk up and he smiled at me. “What did you say Angel?” I know he heard me but I didn’t want to repeat myself. I started feeling my face grow warm. “N-nothing! Come on, let’s go!” DogDay laughed and handed me my phone back. I looked at it and thankfully there wasn’t a crack on the screen. However, when I turned on the screen, I saw that my lockscreen had changed from the drawing to KickenChicken. That motherfu-

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“Alright friends gather around!” DogDay called out to the kids in the Playhouse. “As you all know Darla will be leaving Playcare today and she has requested that we play her favorite game one last time.” I could tell that he was starting to get emotional, so I spoke out for him. “Darla has asked that we play ‘tug of war’ so get into your groups and get ready to play!” The kids all cheered out and went into groups of four.

The first teams walked up to the rope and got into position. Damian was on one side while Darla was on the other. DogDay lined up the center of the rope and tied a yellow flag to it. “Ready and go!” Both teams started pulling with all their strength. “Come on Darla you got this!” DogDay yelled out. Darla nodded her head and pulled the rope even harder to her side, leading them into victory. Damians team seemed upset but not him. He gave a thumbs up to her and she returned the gesture.

Everyone soon had a turn, and we were about to clean up until Darla spoke out saying that she wanted one last round; her and DogDay vs me and Damian. DogDay seemed to like this idea and so all four of us headed to the rope and got ourselves situated. DogDay and I were in the back with the rope wrapped around our waists while Darla and Damian were stationed in front. I already knew that me and Damian would lose because DogDay was the strongest one here, but I didn’t want to lose. “Get ready to lose Angel.” DogDay said teasingly. “Ha, like I’d let myself lose to you. Come on Damian, lets win!”

The children all watched and cheered each of us on as the game had begun. DogDay was just standing there smiling at us. The only time he would pull the rope was when me and Damian got close to winning. The flag was about to cross onto our side when Damian yelled out “Ok now!” Both him and Darla had let go of the rope and jumped away which meant I was about to get yeeted onto DogDays side. DogDay saw this and smirked and pulled the rope hard making me come towards him. I slammed into his stomach. I heard the kids all laugh at this. I looked up at DogDay and he had the biggest grin on his face. “I win Angel.” Click! We both turned and saw that Damian had my phone and took a picture of us.

---------------

I sighed and fell into my chair at my desk. The going away party for Darla had just finished and I was worn out today. I rubbed my eyes for a moment before hearing DogDay outside my door. “Can I come in Angel?” “Yes.” I said while yawning. DogDay entered and shut the door behind him before walking over to his bed and laying down. He had just seen Darla off with her family and I could tell he was sad. I grabbed the card I had gotten for him and made my way over to him. “Mind if I join you?” “Not at all Angel.” I then sat against his side and handed him the card. “Here, for you.” The card read, "To my dear DogDay; As Darla embarks on this new chapter of her life, I understand that her departure leaves a void in your heart. The bond you shared was special and filled with countless cherished moments. But as she finds a loving home and family to call her own, let us take solace in knowing that her journey is one of hope, love, and endless possibilities. While her absence may be felt keenly, remember that the love and friendship you offered her were immeasurable gifts. Your kindness and companionship made her days brighter, and your memories together will forever be etched in her heart. As Darla embraces her new beginnings, may you find comfort in knowing that you played a significant role in her life's journey. And as one door closes, may countless others open, filled with the joy of new friendships and shared adventures yet to come. With love and understanding, Angel.”

DogDay didn’t say anything, but I knew he was grateful for my card. He then had tears form in the corner of his eyes. “I think I need your singing now Angel.” He said while chuckling. I got up and climbed on top of DogDay and leaned down and started to scratch his ears. DogDay sighed and closed his eyes while his tail slowly wagged. I started to sing a little song for him. After a while I could tell that DogDay had fallen asleep. I stayed on top of him and pulled out my phone. I changed my lockscreen back to Damians drawing and changed my home screen to the picture Damian took of me and DogDay after tug of war. In the picture DogDay had his arms around my waist and had a soft look on his face while smiling at me. I was also smiling back at him with a small blush. I then went to my camera roll and deleted KickenChickens picture.

A/N: Idk why but it wouldn’t let me color KickenChickens part yellow. Anyways thank you for reading!!

#sinnersweets #poppy playtime #x reader #dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #kicken chicken

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peachsukii · 4 months

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Unexpected Treasure

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | married | aged to 26 ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: when bakugo gets caught up in the office after his patrol, you decide to send him some spicy semi-nudes in your hero suit with one sentence - "bringing you a surprise, stay in your office." tags & warnings: 18+ MDNI | CW; Smut - sexting, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, biting/love marks, oral (f!receive), nipple play, rough-ish sex, creampie, talks of pregnancy | porn-with-plot, lovers (married), fluff & tooth-rotting fluff, soft bakugo, feel good/comfort a/n: happy valentine’s day! this idea popped in my head and i couldn't stop thinking about how stinkin' cute it would be, so here you go! after the smut is when the tooth-rotting fluff starts!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 2,934꒱

[katsuki] gonna be late, sorry sweets. maybe another hour to get this stupid paperwork done

Damn, so much for a surprise dinner. You’ll just bring the surprise to him instead! You were too impatient to wait another hour to tell him about your day.

You slip into the bodysuit of your hero attire, shimmying into the neoprene and spandex as the material hugs your body like a glove. Usually you’d wear a set of tights underneath to cover your legs, but for this purpose, “forgot” them as they’d only end up getting in the way. You grab your phone from the coffee table, lying on the couch as you pose for a few shots of yourself.

Once you’re satisfied with the risqué pictures, you send the set over to your bombastic hero of a husband with one comment.

[y/n] * two pictures attached * [y/n] bringing you a surprise, stay in your office

You grab a bag with some spare clothes and throw on a long jacket to cover yourself as you head out the door. Before you have your shoes on, your phone dings three times.

[katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] shit baby [katsuki] bring your office key, i’m locking the damn door

A coy smile crosses your lips as you shut the door to your shared apartment and swiftly make your way over to Dynamight Agency downtown.

───

The sunset’s rays poured into Bakugo’s 4th floor office, bouncing off the walls and illuminating the paperwork he’s begrudgingly working on. When his phone vibrates, he quickly peeks at the notification for your response.

Imagine his shock when he opens the texts to see two half-naked photos of his wife on the living room couch of your home.

“Fuck,” he mumbles to himself, examining both photos with curious eyes. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat and ears heating up as the blood rushed straight to his groin.

The first picture had your suit’s front zipper sitting flush against your ribcage, right under your breasts, as they squished together. He could tell the material was barely holding them in place, your nipples perking through the stretch of the fabric. Your face wasn’t completely visible, just the pout of your perfectly plump lips.

The second picture, though? He audibly grunted as he stared at the glass screen.

You sat on the edge of the couch as the bodysuit rode straight up your center, hands on your thighs as your legs are spread. The snaps on the underside of the suit were struggling to stay secured as it settled in between the flush of your lips, covering nothing but your clit.

Bakugo was so enamored with your body that he didn’t notice when he started fisting himself through his cargo pants.

God, how did he get so lucky to land a bombshell like you?

Without hesitation, he unbuckles the clasps of his belt and shoves his pants and boxers down his thighs, reclining back in his chair as he ferociously gripped his dick. The heat of his palm edged him along as he kept his phone in the other hand, flipping back and forth between your two pictures with each stroke. All he could think about was how much he wanted to tear the snaps open on your crotch with his teeth and devour you, paint your luscious tits with hot cum, watch how your puffy lips wrap around his cock, and fuck you until you were screaming his name into the couch cushions.

The sound of the lock turning on his office door shook Bakugo out of his lust-ridden stupor as he rolled his chair to situate himself under the desk, hiding his erection from sight. You crack the door open, just enough to slip inside, and re-lock the door behind you. He’s panting as sweat rolls out from under his mask, crimson irises locked on to you like a predator spotting its prey.

Was he getting off to your pictures?

Fuck, that’s hot.

”Hey Kats,” you purr, stripping the coat from your shoulders and exposing your hero suit. You drop your bag by the door, along with the jacket, and saunter over to his desk.

“Looks like someone was enjoying himself.”

Bakugo scoffs, pushing his mask up on to his forehead and running a hand through his hair. “Guilty as charged. Can’t help it, you’re fuckin’ sexy.”

As you round the desk, you catch a full glimpse of his flushed cock, dribbling with pre-spend as it gleams against his flesh in the sunlight. You can feel the spandex of your suit getting moist as you bite your lip, yearning for his touch - the string in your belly already wound tightly over catching him in the act.

Bakugo springs up from his chair, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor as he’s grabbing your waist and shoving you up against the desk between his legs. He presses against your center with his hard on, feeling the damp spandex rub against his shaft. Leaning back, you accidentally knock over the stack of papers and sending them tumbling to the floor.

“Looks like someone was enjoying herself,” Bakugo teases mockingly, rocking back and forth against your clothed slit. “Fuck th’ paperwork, rather fuck this pretty cunt of yours instead.”

A soft gasp falls from your lips as he removes himself from your center, kneeling down and pulling your hips to edge of the desk. His breath is hot against your sticky thighs as he licks the wet spot on your spandex, sucking on your clit through the fabric. You roll your hips closer into his mouth, begging for him for more. He smirks, diving into your core and nipping at the buttons on your suit. He grips the fabric between his teeth and throws his head back, successfully ripping the bodysuit’s enclosure open. It springs upward to the bottom of your stomach and exposes your glistening sex on full display, arousal seeping from your folds.

“Mm, someone’s eager,” he coos, swiping a finger through your slick. He brings it to his lips, half-lidded rubies flicking up to you as he swirls his tongue around his own finger, collecting it all seductively.

“God, baby, you taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Fucking hell, Katsuki,” you moan, rolling your head back as your mind floods with pleasure.

Bakugo groans as he plunges into your soaking wet center, drinking up every drop of your juices as his tongue circles back and forth from your entrance to your clit. You twitch as a sinful mewl spills out of you, echoing through his office.

“Sh-shit, sorry,” you whimper as another groan is coaxed out of you.

“Fuckin’ scream if y’wanna, baby. Don’t hide those pretty little moans,” he hums in between laps of his tongue, vibrations of his husky voice sent straight into your core. His fingers trail up your body to your throat, tracing your jawline as he moves to your lips, pressing his fingers to them.

“Now be a good girl and open wide.”

You obey, taking his digits into your mouth and roll your tongue around his calloused finger pads.

The inferno blazing in your abdomen is becoming unbearable, rapidly approaching your limit. You didn’t even need foreplay, the thought - and sight - of him jerking off to your pictures was more than enough to catapult you to the edge.

You pull back and release his fingers, a string of drool connecting from your lips to his fingertips.

”N-ah-not to r-rush you, babe, b-but I don’t wanna finish on you’re face,” you say between gasps. “I n-need you to f-fuck me until this goddamn desk breaks. I w-ah-nna come ah-ll over your -”

Bakugo doesn't let you finish your request as he's springing to his feet and scooping his hands under your ass. He positions himself up against your entrance and shoves his cock to the hilt inside of you - full force.

"Anything for you, princess," he growls, enjoying the site of your bouncing tits spilling out of your bodysuit as he begins to thrust aggressively into your weeping cunt. His hands grip into the plush of your ass as he pushes and pulls over and over again, spreading you open with his hot member.

The burn and stretch of him inside you makes you cry out in ecstasy. You’ll never grow tired of just how fucking good he feels, especially when he’s so deep that it feels like he’s rearranging your guts. It’s like he was destined to fuck you with how perfect the two of you meld together.

Bakugo takes one hand off your ass to harshly tug on the zipper between you two, releasing your breast from their clothed confinement. He immediately dips down while moving his hand to your back for support, taking your nipple in his mouth and sucking with a rough pop of his lips. A frenzied moan escapes you, arching your back into his body, fueling a carnal desire within him as he continues to nip at your fragile skin, littering your chest with pricks of red in his wake.

You eagerly run your hands to the bottom of his tank top, tugging it up his chest and stopping on his pecs. The second your fingers roll over his harden buds, a guttural groan erupts from his throat. He lurches down, biting at your collarbone. You can feel his canines sink into your skin as you whine his name again and again, each one growing lustier with each snap of his hips.

"F-fuck, 'm not...g-uh," Bakugo stutters into the crook of your neck as he picks up the pace, his rhythm becoming haphazard as his thighs begin to tense.

"M-me too," you cry out, cupping his cheek in your hand to turn his eyes to you.

“I-I love you,” you whisper before biting at his bottom lip, sucking it harshly into a messy kiss as you beg for him to reciprocate.

He groans against your lips, crashing into you with his tongue and teeth, nibbling on your bottom lip in return. The lingering taste of your own cum swirls between your kiss as your body clenches, intoxicated by the intensity of your upcoming orgasm.

Bakugo breaks your kiss as his chest is heaving in sync with your own.

“I-fuck! I fucking love you,” he snarls in your ear. Your walls are clamping down all around his cock, the intense sensation too much for him to bare. He jerks a few more times as the both of you reach your peak, the wave of shared euphoria crashing down as you explosively release together. Heat floods into your center, a mix of your slick and his cum leaking down your thighs. Your body’s convulse in tandem, quivering from the recoil of your joint climax.

“Hell of a surprise, baby,” Bakugo whistles, catching his breath as he slides out of you and sits back in his office chair. He can’t help but stare at you as you soak in the afterglow of your orgasm. You were absolutely beautiful to him, especially splayed over his office desk stuffed full of his seed.

Good thing he had a corner office where no one bothered him if the door was closed. It was late, anyways, it was unlikely anyone was wandering around the agency at this hour.

You push off the desk and make your way over to your bag by the door. Rummaging around, you pull out a towel, a fresh pair of underwear, sweatpants and a Dynamight hoodie to change into. Bakugo notices and can’t help but cackle at how prepared you were as you change clothes and toss him the towel to clean himself up after you.

“I know you’re a through planner, babe, but damn.”

“Well, that wasn’t the surprise I was talking about,” you say mischievously.

He quirks an eyebrow at you as he fixes his shirt and scoots forward in his chair to finish putting his pants back on. “Oh?”

You strut over to him, straddling his lap and snaking your arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you in place.

“I actually had a whole dinner and whatnot planned for tonight, but I couldn’t wait after you said you’d be caught up in the office.”

Bakugo’s confusion deepens at your comment, unsure of what it is you could be hinting at. He scrunches his brows together, tilting his head to the side.

“Sorry for gettin’ stuck here and messin’ up your plan. Now are y’gonna tell me what it is, or…?”

You’re mentally preparing yourself as you unlace one arm from around his neck and reach into the pocket of your sweatpants, trembling with excitement.

“Remember how I’ve complaining about how sore and achy I’ve been lately?”

“Yeah, y’had that blood test a few days ago. Did ya get that back today?” He asks, not following what that had to do with whatever surprise you had planned.

“I did,” you say as you hand him the folded piece of paper. “I found out why.”

Bakugo shifts the office chair closer to the desk, allowing you to lean back against the trim as he used his hands to unfold the paper. Your demeanor hints that you’re not sick or in bad health, so he’s not immediately worried. He’s scanning over the results until his eyes settle on one particular section.

“No fucking way, are you serious?!” He’s practically vibrating out of the chair beneath you.

You nod your head vigorously. “Mhm! Think Mitsuki saved your old All Might onesies?”

He snatches you by the waist as he jumps to his feet, cradling you as he spins ecstatically. You don’t recall a time, aside from your wedding, that you’ve seen him this overjoyed about anything. Setting you down on the desk, parting your legs to remain as close as possible to you. He cradles your face in his heated palms. The smile that adorns his lips is genuine, his eyes aflame with adoration.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, y/n.”

Bakugo locks his lips with yours, and the kiss isn’t sexual in nature. It’s full of love and endearment, a tenderness that makes your heart flutter and fills your body with bliss. When the two of you part, his eyes are glassy as he touches his forehead to yours.

“We’re finally gettin’ to start our family,” he whispers. “I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dad. Holy shit.”

Hearing him say it out loud makes you choke out the sob you’ve been withholding, beaming with happiness as your tears start to flow.

“Up for the challenge?” You tease playfully, sniveling and giggling as you pull him close for a hug.

“With you? Always.”

Bakugo takes a step back from your hold to delicately place a hand on your stomach, touching you as if you were made of porcelain.

“Do y’know how far along you are?”

“The doctor told me on the phone about 8 or 9 weeks. I thought my period was late from work stress all this time.”

“You’re definitely not workin’ after tonight!” Bakugo demands, his hands moving to your shoulders. “No way in hell you’re fighting with our baby taggin’ along in ya. I’m the boss ‘round here anyways, I’ll handle the stressful shit from now on.”

“Okay, hotshot. Calm down,” you joke, reaching up and ruffling his spiky locks. He sighs, shoulders slumping as the anxiety leaves his body.

“Now I feel kinda bad for railin’ you so hard against the desk,” he snickers, a blush creeping up his neck as he turns his head away from you.

“Oh, I don’t. How do you think I got pregnant in the first place?”

Embarrassment rushes straight to his cheeks, burning hot at your lewd comment. His reaction sends you into a fit of laughter, holding your stomach as you lay back on his desk.

“Better get used to not seeing me in that tight ass suit anymore, I bet it won’t even fit in a month’s time,” you exclaim, shaking your head at the thought.

Bakugo snorts. “Don’t matter if it fits or not, I’m gonna make ya wear it.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling from ear to ear.

How’d you get so lucky? You’ll never know.

“So,” you exhale, sitting up on the desk. “Who do we tell first?”

He ponders your question and rolls his eyes at his own answer before speaking it aloud.

“Ma would kill me if her and pop weren’t first in line. Wanna stop by on the way home, get it outta the way?”

“Hah, alright. We can call my mom tomorrow and stop in. She should be back from her work trip by then.”

Another thought crosses your mind.

“Oh shit…do we tell Izuku or Kirishima first?”

Bakugo laughs out loud. “One step at a time, baby. ‘S a problem for tomorrow.”

Who would have thought this day would come? Two years of uncertainty and waiting has finally paid off, you couldn’t be more thrilled.

A memory flashes in your head from high school from a decade ago, walking into home room at UA High for the first time with Izuku as you spot Katsuki in the far row. You waved to him as he flipped you the bird, scowl painted on his face as he grumbled in his seat.

If someone would have told you that day he’s the one you’d date after graduation, marry and have a family with, you would have said they’re fucking insane.

And maybe it was insane, but you love every minute of it.

After this, I can imagine Bakugo deep diving into everything related to pregnancy - devouring every damn educational book, building the nursery three times before he's satisfied with its style and function, spoiling you endlessly with anything you ask for, and being extremely protective of you. :)

Divider by : @/saradika

#bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo smut #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #bakugo fluff #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #soft bakugo #☆.rei writes

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dollfaceksj · 8 months

Text

the pink pill | myg version (m) — “no one else”

➥ banner by @jkndigo.

➥ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn with plot ⋆ exes

➥ CATEGORY: one-shot [part of the pink pill series]

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, angst, exes but also idiots, degradation kink, unprotected sex (dont be like them), rough sex but also love-making??, did i mention a bit of angst, multiple positions guys yoongi is catching up for missing u all those times likeee, spankingggg, making out w tongue, overstimulation, claiming/possessiveness, multiple orgasms for reader, extremelyhorny!reader, cocky exboyfriend!yoongi…. yeah., hes a sick son of a bitch but thats why we like him besides he’s pretty tame in this i have worse yoongi’s up my sleeve this is nothin, neither of you have moved on, mutual pining but mutual STUBBORNNESSSSS for fucks sake, filthy words, creampie, oral sex (f. rec), embarrassingly quick climaxes likeee, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 9.8k

a/n: and at last, yoongi’s ver of the pink pill is finally out!!! thank you for loving jk’s version! i hope you enjoy yoongi’s. beware of a bit of angst and complicated feelings<33

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

Your trembling thumb hovers over the blue arrow next to your unsent message, eyes scanning over the message over and over again. Your heart might implode in your chest the moment you hit send, which is why you’ve been staring at the message that would cause more cons than pros for the past 5 minutes.

Well, would it, though? It’s just a favor. You need a favor.

It’s like your brain is talking directly to your heart. Your brain is telling you how bad of an idea this is whilst your heart is just rolling its non-existent eyes at the nagging, as if your heart isn’t about to slide up your airways into your esophagus, travel straight up your burning throat and launch out of your mouth. You need to calm down.

The aggravating lump in your throat doesn’t let up.

And that’s when the pad of your thumb impulsively hits the damn blue arrow that’s been mockingly staring at you for the past few minutes.

[11:12PM]

from: You

to: Ignore

can you come over

Once the small letters that say ‘delivered’ pop up under your blue message, you internally scream into the void. Your eyes stay glued to your phone, the back of your phone is becoming slimy in your grasp due to the sweat your palms are rapidly producing.

You barely blink as you stare at the screen, your lips twitching as you wait and attempt to ignore the anxiety bubbling in your chest.

Your gaze slowly shifts upwards on the conversation, rereading old messages. The last you heard from him was 4 months ago. The two of you broke up around 9 months ago but still slept together for a good 2-3 months after.

The last message between you two from 4 months ago was you asking him when he could come pick up the rest of his shit. He came, picked up his shit and that’s when you last saw him. You barely exchanged any words. You had anticipated having sex one last time but he just wordlessly collected his stuff and left.

So, it’s understandable why you’d be so worried about asking him to come over and… well, ask him if he can fuck the shit out of you.

Your heart plummets into the pit of the earth when you notice the ‘delivered’ has turned into ‘read 11:13PM’.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

He’s not responding.

Why is he not responding?

One minute passes. Two minutes pass. Three minutes. Four.

You’ve been staring at your phone the entire time and not once did the bubble that indicates he’s typing pop up.

What if he doesn’t even want to talk to you?

Fuck.

What the fuck were you even thinking?

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After cleaning up the coffee table that was covered in snacks and empty cans that you used to take your mind off the excruciating arousal pooling in your core, you start heading into your once-shared bedroom with your head held down. It’s been 12 minutes since you sent that message and you haven’t gotten a response.

You’re a damn loser.

You plan to start slipping out of your plain shirt and shorts, cringing when you realize you’ve completely soaked through your cotton shorts. How fucking embarrassing. What the hell is in that pill?

Right as your fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts to pull them down your legs, you hear a rhythmic knock on your front door.

What? Who could…

Wait.

It possibly couldn’t be.

The lump returns to your throat at lightning speed as you start heading down your corridor, sluggishly dragging your feet across the floor.

You press your hand flat against the door in an attempt to gather your thoughts and collect your breath before you slowly start opening up, his familiar feline eyes staring at you with an agitated look pooling in them.

“What do you want?” He doesn’t even have the decency to greet you, he just stands there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.

You quietly swallow as you cross your arms over your chest, stepping to the side to wordlessly invite him in. When he gives you a raised eyebrow in confusion, you say, “I don’t need my neighbors hearing my business.”

The exasperated sigh he lets out slightly stings but he walks in nonetheless. You close the door behind him but he’s showing no intentions or moves to take his shoes off. He just stands in front of the door, annoyance draped over his features.

You silently stare up at him, hoping he doesn’t notice your strange demeanor.

“So? Are you gonna tell me what you want or are you just gonna stare at me and continue to waste my time?” His words are blunt and brutal—the bitterness that he still holds in his heart for you hasn’t left him, it seems.

You finally find the courage to speak up and quietly say, “I need a favor, Yoongi.”

He blankly stares at you for a few moments. Humorlessly laughs at your request. Drops his head. Shakes it from side to side in disbelief.

You can’t help but glare at his reaction, fighting the urge to roll your eyes and spew insulting words at him. This is kind of selfish of you.

“Why would I do you a favor?” he asks once he’s stopped laughing, staring you down with hooded eyelids and no traces of mock amusement left on his face.

“I’ll owe you,” you say, failing to hide the clear annoyance in your tone. You want to strangle him.

“You already owe me.” His response is almost immediate, leaving you speechless for a few seconds as you stare up at him with a frown etched onto your brows.

“Excuse me? What the fuck do I owe you?”

He tilts his head to the side with an irritated look on his face before he says, “I don’t know, you wasted 3 years of my fucking life?”

You exaggeratedly roll your eyes at his words, shaking your head in exasperation. “I could quite literally say the same to you.”

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his intense stare down never letting up.

He decides to ignore your remark and repeats, “What do you want, Y/N?”

You swallow again, looking to the side to avoid his penetrating gaze as you think about how the fuck you’re going to ask him what you want to ask him.

How do you even begin to ask?

Hey, you haven’t heard from me in months but could you fuck me real quick?

“What? Do you need money?” he asks in a neutral tone, although you can sense the concern tinged in his words.

“No,” you mumble, the collar of your shirt is starting to feel like it’s closing in around the perimeter of your neck with the goal of suffocating you.

He continues, “Then what? An alibi?”

You throw your head back in exasperation as you groan, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

It’s quiet for a moment and it makes you look at him. You notice he’s staring straight at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on and what you aren’t telling him.

“Need some lovin’?” he asks with a certain humorous tone, the joke causing you to glance up at him through your lashes with big eyes.

It seems like only then that he takes notice of your swollen lips, your dilated pupils, the thin layer of sweat on your forehead and the quickened breathing with the way his eyes scan your entire face and the frown on his brows slowly disappearing when the realization dawns on him.

He narrows his eyes at you and his hands leave his pockets, swiftly moving to cross over his chest as his lips twitch, something you can only describe as him trying to stifle a smirk. “You actually asked me to come over so I could come fuck you?”

Your mind travels at incomprehensible speed to come up with an answer, leaving you scrambled and almost stuttering. You blurt out, “It’s your fault.”

This makes his brows pinch together in utter confusion. “How the hell is it my fault?”

A deep sigh pushes past your lips as you drop your arms from your chest, hands resting on your hips as you look at the floor in shame. “I was cleaning shit up and I came across that dumb pink pill you bought that you wanted me to try but never got the chance to,” you explain, peeking up at him through your lashes momentarily before averting your gaze again.

“Pill? What pink pill?” he repeats, the frown on his face deepening further as the word leaves his mouth.

“Yes, that stupid pink pussycat pill, Yoongi. We bought it as a joke to try on our anniversary but then we had that stupid fight.” You try to get him to recall the events of a year ago, the quick wince on his face at the mention of your anniversary fight doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Anyway, I didn’t want it to go to waste and I was wondering what it might feel like or if it even works. So, I took it earlier today, for shits and giggles.”

He slowly nods to your words as the memories come back to him, seemingly remembering how excited he was for you to take that pill. “So, I reckon the pill is doing what it said it would?”

You merely grunt in response.

He’s silent for a few seconds before quietly chuckling, shaking his head. His chuckle is so deep and sultry, it shoots a tingle right down your soaked panties.

You huff, “What’s so amusing, you dickhead?”

He glances at you through his brows for a moment before averting his gaze, his eyes roaming his surroundings as he looks around your once-shared home. “I’m just flattered, is all.”

“Flattered?” you repeat, a disapproving frown on your features. He’s turning this entire thing into a compliment for himself.

You really can’t fucking stand him.

“You could’ve flaunted that pretty face out at some bar and gotten someone to fuck you without needing to offer any favors,” he explains, giving you a glimpse of his thought process, those words making your body heat up all over again.

Damn him.

You know Yoongi has always found you insanely attractive but him so nonchalantly reminding you has set your insides aflame.

“You know I don’t do that stuff,” you mumble with a shake to your head.

His bitter, humorless chuckle booms in your ears. Why does it sound like he’s literally inside your head? “That’s exactly how we met, you dirty liar.” He reminds you of how his hips were slamming into yours an hour after you met him and no rebuttal comes to your mind.

You silently stare at him, bringing your hand up to wipe some of the sweat off your hairline with the back of your index finger.

“Yeah, you know what? I don’t know why I even texted you. You can leave,” you say, a surge of anger coursing through your veins as you reach for the door handle but Yoongi is quicker than you.

His hand quickly reaches for yours, fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist. “I can tell you why you did,” he quips, cockily.

You glare up at him but make no effort to remove his hand from your skin, the single touch of his skin against yours sends lava down all your veins and every single one of your nerve-endings. Fuck, you wish you could pounce him right fucking now. You finally gather your thoughts and say, “Oh, please, do enlighten me.”

“You asked me here because you don’t want all that arousal to go to waste on someone that doesn’t know your body like I do.” He starts closing the gap between you two, face closing in on yours. “They won’t do the things you like.”

Your throat tightens at his proximity and his words, your lungs seconds away from imploding in between your ribcage.

“And you’re too shy to tell them because you know you like filthy things.” He moves his other hand up to trace the shell of your ear with the tip of his index finger, his eyes glued to how his finger glides down your skin.

If he noticed his touch instantly awoke the goosebumps on your skin, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to play with your ear, fingers coming down to rub your earlobe in between the pads of his thumb and index finger.

“No one knows your body like I do, no one else.” He drops his hand from your ear to trace the collar of your shirt, the tip of his finger occasionally grazing your neck. “No one knows how filthy you are. How needy you are. How you like to be touched and kissed. That’s how I know,” he concludes.

He adds, “You clearly haven’t moved on.”

He was doing so well, too.

Haven’t moved on? Son of a bitch.

“Yeah, well, what about you?” you blurt out. You watch as his thick eyebrows scrunch together in smug mockery.

“What about me? Don’t turn this on me, sweetheart. You’re the one asking me to come fuck you.” He starts to take off his shoes, kicking them aside like he used to do.

Cocky asshole.

“You showed up 10 minutes after a simple ‘come over’ text, no questions asked.” You remind him of tonight’s events and his face slowly turns into a scowl, his usual quick witty comebacks suddenly nonexistent.

“So what?” he mumbles, not in the mood to fight you for this any longer because he knows he’ll lose.

“Just admit you want this as bad as I do instead of being smart about it,” you say, rolling your eyes as you take a step back to create some more distance between you two. You hadn’t realized he’d gotten that close.

He shrugs his shoulders with an air of nonchalance, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “I wouldn’t say as bad as you.”

Right, because you took that pill and your arousal is off the charts.

He must think he’s sooooooo funny.

“You’re a lia–”

Before you can even finish speaking, he takes a step closer and it inevitably traps you in between his body and the wall behind you. He arrogantly adds, “Want me to push my fingers into your panties and check?”

Fuck.

He shouldn’t still have the ability to knock the oxygen right out of your lungs with just silly words. He shouldn’t.

You stare up at him with a furrow in your brows, eyes wide and lips almost quivering, simply at the thought of him touching you. Damn him.

And he knows.

Because his gaze drops to your lips before back to your eyes, the corners of his own lips curling up at something he’s thinking about.

“What?” you grumble, your voice barely coming out and leaving you for dead in your time of need.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and adds a shrug to his shoulders for extra nonchalance. “I just think after you ran your mouth like this, it’d be more fun to make you beg for it.”

Your hands come up to his chest, pressing flat against him to push him back but he doesn’t budge an inch because there’s no real strength behind the push and he knows it.

“I hate you,” you quietly say, hands still pressed up against his chest with the tiniest bit of pressure to make it seem like you don’t want him.

Unfortunately, Yoongi knows you too well.

“That’s fine, as long as you’re good to me.” The words leave his mouth in a breathy chuckle that drapes over your lips as his face closes in on yours, plump lips grazing the skin of your jaw. “You were always so good to me.”

“Why did you leave me, then?” Your voice comes out a bit choked, a big gulp following your question and it’s almost like you’re attempting to swallow the words back down. You can’t believe you just blurted that out. Is one of the side effects of that dumb pink pill being emotional as hell?

He freezes for a few seconds before pulling away and searching for your eyes. His expression is decorated by a frown and his pretty lips are pressed into a thin line.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, just lets the deafening silence settle around you. Stares at you as if one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries is being revealed to him and the answer is in your irises. Watches as you idly blink at him and it makes his lips twitch. Seems to be in deep thought and you can’t figure out what’s going through his mind for the life of you.

Then, he speaks.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

His words paired with his intense gaze sends a jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving your legs to wobble like they’re made of jelly.

You both stare at each other for a while in complete silence. His familiar, black, feline eyes staring into yours so intimately summon a vine that wraps around your heart, digging its sharp thorns into your most beloved organ until it bleeds out all over your insides.

He’s right.

You clearly haven’t moved on.

“Let’s just,” you pause and shake your head free of those thoughts. You don’t bother to finish your sentence as you wrap your fingers around his wrist, leading him toward your once-shared bedroom and he simply lets you.

As soon as you walk in, you let go of his hand and reach for the hem of your shirt. You yank it off your body without a second of hesitation before tossing it somewhere on the floor and it makes him chuckle for some reason.

You turn to glare at him. “Something funny?” you snark, arms crossing over your chest like a child that wanted the purple lollipop instead of the yellow one.

He stares at you from the entrance of your room, an amused smile still on his pretty lips. His eyes scan the walls and the furniture as he slowly makes his way in, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I see that you’ve changed the entire room.”

Your eyes follow the direction of his gaze, scanning around the room as if you’d forgotten what you changed about the place. “Yeah.”

He struts toward you, getting so close that he’s practically pressed up against you. His onyx eyes stare you down, one of his infamous unreadable expressions plastered on his face. “Trying to act like I never existed?” he asks, hands still buried in his pockets and fuck, how you wish he would just give in and touch you.

You simply blink up at him, your eyes pingpong-ing between his eyes from left to right continuously as you try to think of a way to answer.

Should you lie? Should you just be honest?

As if on cue, your question is answered when he lazily places his right hand on your hip, pulling you even closer to him.

Be honest.

“No.” You shake your head slightly, never breaking eye contact with the enticing man in front of you. “I was never going to forget about you if everywhere I looked just reminded me of you.”

His hand tenses on your hip, a muscle in his jaw tenses up and your eyes are just in time to catch the way his Adam’s apple bounces up and down.

You shift your eyes back up to his, blinking your eyelids at him so innocently yet so full of temptation. He slowly starts nodding his head as if he just had an epiphany and then moves his hand from your hip to your waist.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, thumb rubbing circles onto your bare skin.

You shrug your shoulders smugly. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He doesn’t need anything else. His lips are on top of yours the moment the words leave your mouth, teeth clashing at how quickly he lunges at you.

His mouth devours you like a man starved as his other hand grips the back of your head to keep you in his grasp, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

Several soft moans resound in your throat that he simply swallows, hand balling into a fist on the back of your head, gripping your hair at the root.

You mewl, your hands coming up to squeeze his biceps as you try to grind your hips into his. Fuck, you’re like a fucking animal in heat.

“Fuck, I’m barely touching you and you’re this needy,” he whispers against your open mouth before shoving his tongue back in.

Your insides are set ablaze when he starts pushing you backwards with his own body until your calves hit the mattress and automatically makes you fall backwards, dropping onto your bed.

He wastes no time climbing on top of you, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat to the strap of your bra as he gently starts tugging them off your shoulders.

You automatically arch your back off the mattress, encouraging him to unclasp your bra and he does.

Whilst he unclasps your bra, he coats your collarbones in soft kisses and absentmindedly throws your bra to the side as he brings his hand back up to fondle your breast in his large hand.

“Fuck,” you whisper, every single inch of his touch electrifies your body and sets your soul alight. Damn, you’ve missed this.

His thumb gently teases your erect nipple, rolling it around whilst he continues to nibble on the skin of your neck.

Your hips involuntarily buck upwards into nothing and you almost flinch at the way his breath grazes your neck when Yoongi softly chuckles, clearly finding your extreme level of arousal amusing.

“Can you just stop teasing me?” you whine, legs spreading wider and wider without a second thought.

“You’re gonna have to ask a lot nicer if you want me to do that, sugar.” He lifts his head off your shoulder and closes in on your other breast, wrapping his lips around it whilst his hand slowly travels down your stomach to your clothed sex. He starts sucking on your nipple and the effects of that pill makes it so it feels like he’s touching you all over, on every part of your body, on every inch of your skin. Causes you to squirm and moan under him like a fish separated from a body of water.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, “I should’ve made you take that pill so fucking long ago. Look at you.”

You simply grumble, “Fuck you.”

He lifts his head off your breast to stare at you directly in the eyes and you instantly regret running your mouth. “Yoongi, I just want–”

Smack!

“Ow!” you cry out, the warmth of the slap on your pussy spreading through your skin like wildfire. You instantly whimper, “I’m sorry.”

The apology means nothing to him, though.

He shakes his head. “Always running that fucking mouth of yours.” His fingers tuck under the hem of your shorts and he slides them down your legs before tossing them aside like he has personal beef with the article of clothing.

“Holy shit,” he whispers as he glances at the massive wet patch on your panties and all the slick smeared around your inner thighs, eyes practically bulging out of his eye sockets.

You can’t help but frown, though. “What?”

“No wonder,” he says, seemingly answering his own unspoken question. “You are completely soaked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucking horny.”

You whine, tucking your thumbs under the hem of your panties to drag them down your legs and he doesn’t even try to stop you, just simply stares at you in awe but your panties don’t budge an inch when you stop and decide to just give in, in hopes he’ll fall for your tricks.

“Please, just,” you yelp, “fuck me. Please. I think I’ll die if you don’t.”

He throws his head back as he laughs, his gorgeous neck on full display for you. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Yoongi,” you pause, “I’m so fucking serious. I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day. I need you to. Please.”

He searches your face and seemingly takes note of the desperation and earnestness in your eyes. Shortly after, he drags his gaze down your exposed body, simply staring at your naked figure.

Sprawled out on your bed, lips swollen, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin, pupils dilated, breasts bare with nipples standing at attention and your arousal that has already started dripping onto your sheets.

He slowly starts to nod his head and in the blink of an eye, he yanks his own shirt off.

The view of his bare chest brings back so many memories, all the times he fucked you good come rushing back to you and it isn’t fucking helping your case.

A persistent lump forms in your throat that refuses to disappear but that’s when you realize that it’s not just a lump but words. The words ‘I miss you’ are forcing their way to the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill.

But you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

Just bite your tongue.

“All day, huh?” he muses, talking more to himself. He quickly ditches his sweatpants in the meantime and tosses them off the bed. “What took you so long to text me?”

You silently watch as he crawls back over to you in just his black boxers, settling right next to your body and supporting his own weight with his elbow while his other hand returns to your panties. Teasingly plays with the hem. Presses his lips against your neck. Inhales your scent.

You stay quiet for a few moments, eyes shut tightly at the tip of his fingers brushing against your pelvis. So close yet so far. “My pride,” you finally reply.

He simply chuckles at your words and slowly tucks his fingers under the hem of your panties, groaning when the back of his knuckles brush against the sticky patch of your arousal on the inside of your panties. “I don’t think I’ve seen this amount of wetness. Not even in porn.”

His skin finally makes contact with your sex, running right up your wet slit and collecting all of your arousal on the tip of his finger. “Holy fucking shit, Y/N.”

You mewl, hips already thrusting up into his hand but he simply uses his palm to press down on your pelvis.

“Stay still.” The demand makes your insides twist into a wringed out shirt and makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“I can’t,” you whimper, legs shaking at the simple touch of his fingers smearing your arousal all over your sex. “I’m trying to but I can’t.”

It’s like you have no control over your body whatsoever. You just want to be fucked.

“Why can’t you?” he quips as he plunges two fingers right into you, groaning when your slick walls tightly hug his fingers. He already knows, he just likes to push your buttons.

“Because I want you,” you breathe out, moaning at the sensation of his fingers slowly pumping into you. Your sensitivity is off the fucking charts, just his fingers being buried in your pussy without any movement whatsoever could have you cumming in no time.

“I can tell,” he cockily chuckles. His sultry laugh is so full of mockery, the type that would usually piss you the fuck off but in this moment turns you the fuck on. “I just need to prep you, baby. Can’t be hurting you simply because you’re writhing like an animal in heat.”

You quickly shake your head. “I don’t need any fucking prep,” you moan as his hand picks up in pace. “Please, just fuck me. I’m already wetter than I’ve ever been. You literally just said it yourself.”

He lifts his head off your collarbones and searches your eyes for a moment, a stern frown on his brows. “Are you sure?”

Yoongi’s always been into manhandling you and being rough but only when it’s pleasurable for you. He’d usually go down on you or work you towards an orgasm using just his fingers, in hopes it’d have you ready to take him.

So, no, he’s not used to just jumping in and fucking you.

You quickly nod your head. “Never been more sure.”

He stares at you for a moment longer but the sincerity in your eyes is prominent. He then simply spreads your folds with his sticky fingers, smearing your arousal all over your sex before pulling his fingers out of your pussy, the sounds leaving your sex almost embarrassing you.

He slides his hand out of your panties and glances at his hand, eyes scanning his fingers coated in your pussy slick.

“Fuck, look at that,” he whispers but doesn’t even grant you the time to look when he immediately shoves his fingers into his mouth, sucking all your arousal off his digits.

“Yoongi,” you whine, clenching around nothing as you watch him.

“Fuck, princess,” he grunts as he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. “It’s been too long. I’m gonna need to eat that.”

You want to protest but he’s already pulling you toward him by your thighs, settling in between them as he’s now face to face with your slick-covered panties.

“I want to be fucked,” you whine, staring down at him between your legs but his eyes are just focused on your panties.

He replies, “And I want to fucking eat you out so you’re gonna have to be patient, you little brat.”

You don’t have the time to whine any more when he pushes your panties to the side and the single action could have you coming undone, right here, right now.

He idly stares at your glistening pussy like he’s Monkey D. fucking Luffy and he found the One Piece after years of venturing the seas.

“Why are you staring like that?” you quietly ask, unfortunately not possessing enough strength to close your thighs out of self-consciousness.

With a simple shake of his head, his face closes in on your sex and he licks a long stripe up your pussy, collecting a great amount of your arousal in a single swipe of his hungry tongue.

But you’re oozing so much wetness that he simply keeps going, licking all around your sex before focusing on your swollen, angry clit. He wraps his lips around your sensitive pleasure nub and starts sucking, coating his entire chin in your juices.

“Fuck!” you cry, reaching over to pull on his roots, fingers tangled in his soft black locks.

The sensitivity you’re experiencing is too much. “I’m gonna fucking cum, Yoongi.” You’re not even joking.

“Already?” he hums in mockery before wrapping his lips around your clit again and sucks some more with no regard of overstimulating you.

You quickly nod your head and within the next few seconds, you’re cumming all over his tongue and around his mouth. A cry rips through your throat and you’re sobbing at this point, pulling so hard on his roots that it causes him to hiss in pain.

Grinding your hips up into his face, into his nose, into his mouth. You can’t believe how quickly that stupid pink pill has you levitating off the bed, it’s like you don’t even belong on Earth anymore.

The orgasm hits you like none ever before, leaving you even more sensitive. You came within barely, what? A minute of stimulation? Two? Oh, you’re so done for.

You push against Yoongi’s head in hopes he’ll stop and he does—after giving your swollen clit one last slurp.

“Holy shit.” You can’t believe that just happened.

“That was really fast. What was that? A minute? A minute and 30 seconds?” he laughs as he sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’s that fucking pill,” you mumble defensively, trying to catch your breath.

A low chuckle leaves his mouth before he glances down at the bulge in his boxers. “Well,” he pauses, “you should take that pill more often.”

You roll your eyes with all the brattiness you can muster, hoping it annoys him as much as he annoys you. “This is the last time I’m even letting you in here, I hope you know that.”

His eyes shift back up to yours and he tilts his head to the side in question, blinking at you with a glimmer in his eyes that you can’t quite describe.

You stare back, trying your best not to look fucked out right now but you know you’re failing horribly at it when he simply shakes his head and lets out a bitter chuckle.

“You just wanted to use me one last time, hm?” he scoffs as his fingers tuck under the hem of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs and tossing them off the bed.

A surge of guilt spreads through your chest when you realize how that must’ve sounded to him. “You know that’s not what I meant, Yoongi.”

“No?” he muses, placing his hands on the back of your thighs before pushing them all the way against the mattress on each side of your body. You know your body isn’t supposed to be able to do this, apparent by the strain in your inner thighs but for some reason, it doesn’t bother you as much.

“No,” you whimper as he uses his own weight to keep your thighs spread, sliding his rock hard dick in between your folds handsfree, but not entering you just yet. It has you squeezing your eyelids shut, trying to focus on the feeling of his rock hard cock—all the ridges and veins on his dick—rubbing so good against your swollen clit.

“I don’t believe you,” he says, watching as you squirm from the slightest bit of friction that he has full control over. It makes you want to smack that grin right off his face.

“I swear,” you sniff, not even being able to thrust your hips up for more friction because Yoongi’s weight and strength keeps you restrained.

He simply hums in response, continuing to slide his dick over your slit, completely coating his shaft in your slick. “If you want me to believe you,” he pauses as his eyes shift up to yours, “you’re going to have to beg and convince me. Tell me how what you just said isn’t true.”

“Please,” you say, no hesitation. “Please, I didn’t mean that. I–just fuck me. I swear I don’t want anyone else to be in your position right now, I only want you. No one else knows me like you, no one.”

He continues to simply watch your face twist in borderline agony from the lack of friction, the sensation you so desperately crave.

“That so?” His tone is filled with so much arrogance that it makes your veins burn with lava.

You merely hum in response and finally crack your eyelids open, just to see him staring into your eyes with that familiar glint in his. Fuck.

“Ready?” he whispers, lining his tip up with your hole and cockily chuckles when you eagerly nod your head.

He abruptly freezes. “Ah, fuck, wait.” His dick is not on your slit anymore and it makes you frown at him.

“What?”

He groans, “I have no condoms.”

For fuck’s sake.

“I mean,” you start, “you’re the last person I had sex with. Did you have sex with anyone after me?”

You’re not sure you even want to hear about it but in this moment you’d do anything to just have him finally fuck the shit out of you.

He avoids your gaze as he keeps it glued to his dick sliding up and down your slit. “I have.”

Oh.

“But it was protected, always,” he adds with a quickness, tone calculated and quiet.

Oh.

Okay.

That’s good but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

You have to swallow your emotions at this moment because your pussy is basically screaming at you to just swallow your pride. “Okay, then just do it without.”

He peers up at you through his thick brows with a frown. “Are you sure?”

You mumble, “For fuck’s sake.” Your hand quickly reaches for his shaft but he slaps it away just as quickly.

“I know you’re horny as fuck but I need you to be 100%,” he pauses when he sees you glaring at his dick. “Look at me, dammit.”

Your eyes shift to his and you childishly groan. “Yes, Yoongi, I 100% consent to letting you fuck me raw. Now, will you please just–”

He doesn’t even let you finish talking as he slides his dick right into you, bottoming out completely. You yelp at the intrusion, your slick walls stretching around his shaft so well, like it always has.

“Holy shit,” he whispers with closed eyes, the disgusting squelching coming from your sexes is proof of your arousal and the moans falling from his lips as your pussy tightly hugs him sounds like a choir of angels sustaining a high C.

You try to keep quiet, you try not to squirm, you try not to say the craziest things right now. Like ‘I love you’, or ‘I’ve missed you so much’ because you’re just horny and dumb.

“Move,” you whimper, needing more than he’s giving you right now. He hears you loud and clear, sliding out of you and right back in. The disgusting squelching reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment, not when Yoongi finds it hot and throws in occasional ‘fuck, listen to that’s and ‘you’re so fucking wet’s.

You cuss, eyes rolling to the back of your head when your sensitivity reaches its peak. A few more thrusts will already have you cumming, you’re sure of it.

He continues to thrust, slowly starting to pick up his pace and he finally cracks his eyelids open. His eyes find yours as he stares at you—scanning your pretty face that he loves to look at—especially when it’s twisted in pleasure like that.

Brows furrowed, lips swollen, pupils dilated, mouth agape, a thin layer of sweat draped over your forehead and building up in your hairline.

Somewhere along the line, the eye contact becomes too intense for you. Your hand snakes around the back of his head, closing the distances between you two by pulling him closer to you, licking and sucking on the honey tinted skin of his neck.

After a while of sucking and nipping at his neck and his thrusts never coming to a halt, your orgasm starts approaching you rapidly again. “I’m gonna cum,” you cry, tears pricking in your eyes from the pure pleasure that’s setting all your insides ablaze.

“Already?” he murmurs as he leans down, kissing away the tears that have subtly started rolling down your temples. “But I have yet to ruin you.”

Fuck.

“Whatever, though. I guess you’re just going to lose count of the amount of orgasms I’ll fuck you through.” He states it so nonchalantly because he knows only he could ever make you feel like this, make you desperate like this, make you a needy mess like this.

His hips continue to harshly snap into yours, the indescribable sensation of being fucked at this angle and pace has your thighs clenching. Unsurprisingly not long after, your orgasm hits you full force once again.

A sob rips through your throat, your trembling hands grab at his shoulders, nails painfully digging into his skin as he fucks you through your high. His low chuckle rings in your ear, breath hitting your throat as he lowers his face into the crook of your neck.

“Cumming all over my dick and sucking marks on my neck. Are you trying to claim me again?” he whispers, knowing how possessiveness was big a turn on for the both of you back in your relationship.

You simply cry under him, the orgasm lasting longer than any you’ve ever had before. His dick kisses your cervix repeatedly, your breasts bounce continuously from the momentum of his thrusts and the sound of his skin slapping yours only increases in volume the longer he fucks you.

“I asked you something,” he says, lifting his head off your shoulder to stare down at you. “Where’d that bratty mouth that I love so much go?”

You simply grunt in response, teary eyes glaring at him as you slowly come down from your high. The corners of his lips curl up in a twisted smirk at the sight in front of him, you know he enjoys seeing you in this state and him being the sole cause of it pleases him greatly.

The overstimulation is starting to catch up to you. Your hand basically moves on its own, pressing flat into his lower abdomen in order to get him to slow down.

However, it means nothing to him. He simply continues to thrust into you like he’s got something to prove. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you want to claim me again?” he repeats.

You mewl, sinking your cranium further into your soft pillows, exposing more of your throat and neck to him as tears continue to pour out of your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you whimper, digging your nails into the skin around his belly button but it doesn’t elicit a single reaction from him.

He simply chuckles at your snarky comment as he lowers his lips onto your throat, sucking and nipping at it. You know he expected you to say that. No one else knows you like the back of their hand like he does.

“There’s my girl,” he mumbles against your skin. His words paired with the simple act of kissing your neck has all your insides clenching and twisting with something you can’t quite describe.

Butterflies?

Something you’re not going to admit out loud.

“I don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, though.” With one more thrust, he pulls out of you and harshly flips you onto your stomach. You don’t even have the time to react when he gently grabs your hips yet roughly hoists your ass up off the mattress.

A sharp sting spreads through your asscheek and that’s when you realize his rough hand came down on your bum, spanking you hard.

“Ow!” you screech in pain yet pleasure, every vein in your body pumping blood faster and faster as you anticipate exactly why, of all people, you called Yoongi over.

He doesn’t even give you the time to come down from that spanking before he gives you another one. And another one. And another one.

“You ask me to come over after not talking to me for months, then beg me to fuck you. I give you what you want and you still have the audacity to be so rude to me?” He clicks his tongue loudly and immediately after the scolding, spanks you yet again. “Biting the hand that feeds you. Tsk. I should cum in that filthy mouth of yours for talking to me like this.”

He shoves his dick back inside without a warning and continues to assault your poor asscheeks, rough palms continuously coming down to your ass in loud smacks.

You hoarsely cry out under him, most likely from the embarrassment because thanks to that damn pill you might cum from just being spanked at this point.

As if he heard your thoughts, the spanking comes to an end and his hands are now flat on your back, keeping you pressed into the mattress with his weight while he starts fucking into you again. “You like getting fucked from the back, right?”

Your ass bounces back against his hips with each thrust, adding more and more sensations to your body. You’re not going to last for very much longer.

He mumbles, “No, that’s not it.” He leans forwards, pressing his chest into your back, lips grazing the shell of your ear and he places his hands against the mattress on each side of your waist, supporting his own weight. “You just love being fucked like a slut.”

Fuck.

“Isn’t that right? You don’t care in what position you get fucked in, as long as you’re getting fucked, hm? Like the horny slut you are.” He remembers exactly what you like and it’s embarrassing. “My slut, though. No one else’s.”

And you admit that yes, you wouldn't just want any stranger to talk to you like this.

It only works with Yoongi because he knows you. Because he understands you. Because he loves you.

Or he did once, at least.

But him showing up at your front door, no questions asked, 10 minutes after you asked him to, might be proof of something you both are trying to deny. Not like it matters.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you moan. You’ve already lost count but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s fucking you so good.

“Cumming so quickly from just being talked to like this. I bet you’ve missed my filthy mouth just as much as I missed yours,” he whispers into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your skin in a way only a lover should. “I fucking love it.”

The soft kissing and the low volume of his voice are a stark contrast to the rough pounding of his hips and the degrading words leaving his lips.

And you can’t help but love it.

“Tell me I’m right,” he demands as he picks up the pace, snaking one hand around to wrap around your throat and pull you up until the back of your head collides with his shoulder. “Tell me it’s true.”

Now with your orgasm approaching, he knows you’d do anything to get there.

He knows you too well.

“Fuck, I love it!” you cry as your nth orgasm washes over you, your body violently jerking under him from the overstimulation you’re experiencing.

“I know you do,” he chuckles as he fucks you through your orgasm. “That’s my girl. My fuckin’ girl.”

Fuck.

He has no idea what those words do to you.

Well, it’s Yoongi. He definitely knows what it’s doing to you.

Because you are not his girl. Not anymore.

But you don’t have the energy to correct him nor do you want to. Because at this moment, it feels like the two of you never separated. Like you never spent a day apart. All of the nostalgia, love and hate comes rushing back to you. Surely it’s that stupid pink pill’s fault.

He pulls out in a swift motion and turns you onto your side before he lies down behind you on his side as well, chest pressed into your back as he pulls you closer.

Fuck, how many positions is he going to fuck you in? Is he making up for all the time you spent apart?

Now that you’re in spooning position, he gently places his hand under your thigh and lifts it up to spread your legs. His hand leaves your thigh as he uses the same hand to guide his dick to your pussy again.

Your thigh almost wants to give out and drop, your chest still dramatically rising and falling as you chase your breath.

Another cocky chuckle rumbles in his chest at how you struggle to even move now, his hot breath draping over your neck and his hand returning to the same spot on your inner thigh as he lifts your leg again and pushes into you.

Your head falls back, falling deeper into his embrace and he welcomes that by pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. “I don’t know how I survived all those months without y–” he pauses, “your pussy.”

Hmph. He’s the pussy if he doesn’t want to admit he misses you.

But then again, he was never that type. Yoongi was never the type to show his love through words but rather through actions and services, he had difficulties expressing his affection with words.

Like when it took him a year to say ‘I love you’ yet everyday after he came home from an exhausting day at work, he’d pull your feet into his lap and massage them in hopes of offering you some kind of relief.

Or when the topic of wedding vows came up and he said he finds them useless yet he’d buy you a fresh set of bouquets every week until down to the very week you broke up.

Or when he’d place a glass of water on your nightstand everyday when he left for work, whether he fucked the shit out of you the night before or not.

Yoongi always just showed you.

And now that he’s balls deep in your pussy, now that the effects of that pill are clouding your mind, now that his proximity is distorting your mind and setting all your nerve-endings alight again, you have to consciously stop yourself from asking him to come back home—back to you.

Your mind is so distorted that you don’t even recall the bad moments or the reason for your break up right now. You just miss him.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers in your ear, thrusting his hips into you at a considerably slower pace but by no means lacking in strength and passion.

“Like I’m fucking floating on a cloud,” you mumble back, body almost falling limp at his proximity and his dick rubbing your walls so deliciously.

He simply chuckles, “That’s what I like to hear.”

He continues to fuck into you, occasionally groaning and fondling your breast. “Fuck,” he mumbles, pressing another kiss to the back of your neck.

“Yoongi, I–”

“I know.”

You don’t even know.

You don’t even know what you were going to say.

But his confident ‘I know’ proves to you that he knows.

Thanks to his slow pace, it takes your orgasm a little longer to approach and thank fuck for that.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” he tells you, rubbing your tummy from the back. “Where do you want it?”

“I don’t care where you cum as long as you kiss me during it.”

Damn. Why the fuck would you say that?

Great. He just abruptly stopped thrusting. You’re such a fucking idiot.

You would have never been able to admit this if you didn’t take that stupid pill or even if you weren’t facing him with your back.

He swiftly pulls out and wraps his fingers around your bicep to turn you around, making you face him now. Still in spooning position but this time facing each other, he pulls you close, lifting your leg onto his hip as he guides his dick back into you and propping your head up on his bicep.

His hand finds its way back to your asscheek and squeezes the soft skin in his rough hand as he pulls you even closer, pressing your chest right into his.

“Cum with me, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He’s so mean for doing this. So mean for the things he says, so mean for fucking you exactly as you like it, so mean for making you feel like you still belong to him. Like he belongs to you.

He thrusts his hips into you faster and sure enough, the effects of the pill get to work because your stomach starts twisting from the inside immediately after the change of pace and his request of cumming together.

Your fucked out eyes meet his determined ones, staring into those black bottomless pits of his as he chases his own release.

He simply stares back, eyes occasionally dropping to your lips. In this moment, his eyes are everywhere you look, his breath hits every inch of your skin, his hand on your hip holds you so tightly that you think be might crack your hipbone. He’s inside your head. He’s everywhere. He’s everything.

It seems like he wants to say something but his attention gets disrupted by the sound of something buzzing on the nightstand behind you.

It’s his phone.

He tears his eyes away from yours, reaching for it whilst still being inside of you and by the guilty look on his face, it doesn’t take a genius to decipher it must be someone whose arms and bed he found comfort in after separating from you.

When he thinks you must’ve realized, he tosses his phone off the bed and returns his attention to you.

But he doesn’t owe you anything. Not an explanation. Not an apology. Not even love.

It’s quiet for a few moments, just your occasional soft moaning and his heavy breathing as you close your eyes to avoid his gaze.

Until you crack your eyelids open again and find out he’s been staring at you the entire time. Your walls tightly clench around him again, indicating your orgasm is close. “Just call me your girl again,” you whisper, allowing the vulnerability to escape your system once again.

Dumb bitch.

“You are. You are my girl,” is all he says before pressing his lips against yours as promised, grabbing a handful of your asscheek as he snaps his hips into yours and forces his tongue into your mouth.

You let his tongue force itself past your swollen lips, crying into his mouth as another orgasm sends electricity down all your limbs, making your brain explode with ridiculous amounts of dopamine and launching you straight to your Utopia.

You murmur some shit into his mouth that even you don’t understand, voice coming and going whenever it pleases, more and more slick gushing out of your completely drenched pussy. Tears continue to escape and roll down your temples, your nose is runny, your voice is hoarse.

A soft moan resounds in Yoongi’s throat when his own orgasm hits him, thrusts getting inconsistent and rough as he starts painting your walls with his warm cum, groaning loudly into your mouth which you happily welcome.

This is otherworldly.

Nothing will ever feel like this moment right here and you’re not sure whether you’ve accepted that yet.

He fucks both of you through your orgasms, pumping his load into you like it belongs inside of you and fuck, have you missed the feeling.

With a few more sloppy thrusts, creating a mess everywhere, his thrusting comes to a halt yet he never stops kissing you.

He curls his arm so your head shifts on his bicep even closer towards his face, keeping his dick buried in you, eliciting a simple sigh in content from the ex-girlfriend in his arms.

After an extra few minutes of nonstop making out with a man that was once yours, you’re the one that pulls away. Your stomach clenches with something you can’t describe when you watch him still chase your lips until he realizes you’ve pulled away, making him slowly open his eyes.

Is it guilt? Is it desire? Is it regret?

Fuck. Fuck. This whole idea just wasn’t smart.

You did your best to rid yourself of the stain he planted on you, closing the mark where he sunk his fangs so deeply into your skin, into your soul. You’re letting him reopen it and you’re so damn fucking stupid for it.

And you don’t understand why he’s the only one you want. No one else.

He stares at you for a moment before pressing his forehead against yours, still trying to catch his breath.

You stay unmoved for a few more moments before he delicately pecks your lips again and gently pulls his softening dick out of you, your nose scrunching when his load starts to leak out of you and onto your sheets.

He doesn’t say much else as he gets up from your bed, eyes searching the floor for something before he hunches over and slides his boxers back up his legs.

He leaves your bedroom without another word, making you simply frown at the ceiling but he quickly reappears with a glass of water and a damp towel.

He hasn’t changed a bit.

He takes care of you like nothing’s changed, cleaning your body up, changing the sheets while you don’t move a muscle, tucking you under the fresh covers and making sure you drink your water before opening the windows in an attempt to get some fresh air after you’ve fogged up the windows in the room.

He sits at the edge of your bed, gently tracing your hairline with the tip of his finger. “How are you feeling?”

If only he knew.

Your mouth slightly curls at the corners, a lazy smile plastered on your lips. “I feel amazing.”

Another sultry chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head in agreement.

This is nice.

But your mind changes when you silently watch him rising to his feet and slowly reaching for his clothes.

Ugh.

You’ve been vulnerable enough.

You asked him to come do one thing and he did it. You can’t ask much more of him.

But your heart works faster than your brain.

“Can you stay the night?” you quietly ask, fidgeting with your fingers under the sheets, relieved that he can’t see.

He glances at you over his shoulder, a frown on his brows. It seems like he thinks about it for a moment before parting pretty his lips to say, “What?”

Fuck.

Your voice goes even quieter, thinking of a way to reformulate the question. “Do you want to stay the night?”

He idly blinks at you, eyes staring straight into your soul as if you just asked him the most absurd question that you could’ve asked him. “Do you want me to?”

The neutral tone of his voice simply makes you shrug your shoulders in response, avoiding his intense gaze that always makes you feel like no one else exists in his mind but you.

Stupid.

“Y/N,” says Yoongi, quietly. Your eyes twinkle up at him, the clear look of a dilemma plastered on your face. He closes the distance between you two, hovering over your body before repeating his question with a bit more bluntness. “Do you want me to?”

Your swollen bottom lip is trapped between your teeth, veins pumping with anxiety and anticipation.

You sniffle a bit in hopes that it makes the tension and silence less awkward. “Yeah.”

Your eyes trail his features, remembering how gorgeous he actually is. How could you ever forget? His thick brows, his sharp eyes, his plump lips, his soft nose, his beautiful hair.

The next few words that leave his mouth rip you right out of your thoughts.

“Then I’ll stay,” he pauses, “for however long you want me to.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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cardhamine · 1 month

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(Just to be 100% clear, pro-shippers should block me, especially if those ships involve kiddos.)

Also, an alt version below with my AU version of Vanessa (Ava) -

(Flipped because all her scars from the wreck and subsequent surgeries are on that side.)

I didn't add the scars she gets during the last few chapters of Breached since they aren't out yet and that's Spoilers.

My main lament is that I drew this on my phone and the app I use doesn't have a good tool I can use for freckles, so the freckle-to-lady ratio is way lower than my headcanon...

#fnaf security breach #fnaf gregory #fnaf vanessa #biblically accurate vanessa #breached au #ava andros #fnaf au #Cardoodles #Also I've done a colored background three times in my entire life so don't @ me about that #Before anyone asks tiny glamfred is 100% waterproof #Ava is almost diligent about sunscreen but gets distracted by beach bc she's a golden retriever #Vanny (Breached) just sets a timer and makes everyone come back to take breaks #If Vanny wasn't there both Ava and Gregory would probably get 3rd degree burns #Freddy would try to nag them but his tiny body is easy to ignore #Speaking of vanny I haven't forgotten her that art is almost done

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electricpurrs · 7 months

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my life has been greatly improved after i did this and i want to help my fellow mobile warriors, but there are no full clear tutorials on it out there, so im making my own

under the cut there'll be an overly extensive but hopefully helpful tutorial on how to use revanced (of youtube revanced fame) to get a patched version of the tumblr mobile app which can reverse annoying UI changes, get prev tags back, and get rid of tumblr live permanently

first of all, this only works on android. sorry. but that said here we go

firstly go on the play store and turn off Play Protect. you'll generally need to turn off/ignore any safety checks you get, and allow to "download from unverified sources" (dw this process is safe, you can turn these back on after you're done)

uninstall the tumblr app you currently have on your phone (the one from the play store)

download Vanced MicroG and ReVanced Manager. install both. ReVanced Manager will become an app you'll need to use for this

go to this link. generally youre supposed to be careful when downloading apks off the internet, but i can testify the ones from apkmirror are safe

now this is where the magic happens. apkmirror has the apks for ALL versions of the tumblr app, from the most recent one as far back as 2015

this is how you can reverse any changes to the tumblr app you dont like, simply get an apk from before the change was made

the one im currently using is v29.1.1.100

pros of this one:

- the old image viewer (you can click on images to zoom in without the weird transparent background and scrolling taking you to unrelated posts)

- prev tags (aka you can click on a post or a reblog to be taken directly to that version of the post or the reblog instead of just going to the top of op's blog)

- general reversal of recent UI changes, like the DM redesign and the update that made everything smaller and round

having chosen an apk, download it. i heard some people say you should only download and not install it right away, but mine only worked when i had it installed, so it might depend for you

now go to the ReVanced Manager app you downloaded earlier

go to the Patcher tab, and there click on Select and application, there you can select the tumblr apk you just downloaded

there you can see the available patches, simply click on patch and wait until its done

i believe if you did not need to install your apk earlier you can just click "install" and install the patched version right away.

but for me, since i had to install my apk, what i had to do was, once my app was patched, click on the folder icon on the bottom left, save the patched app to my phone files (besides the og one, not replace it), then i went to my file manager, deleted the original apk, THEN installed the revanced version

idk if you'll need to do this but it was a pain for me to figure this out so if it helps someone else 👍

and with that its done! if you manage to install it sucessfully, you can just open the app, log in, and youll see if its working if tumblr live is completely gone and all other changes are applied o7

#finally finished writing this. time to release it into the wild #hope this helps somebody else my life is so much easier now #🧃

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ayasuki · 1 year

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4th Bakugou x Reader Fanfic recs

note: if i put none/no title, the writer has not given the work a title :P

> • 𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒔 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕

all fics are smut

" tempting tempest " by lord-explosion-baku

shark!bakugou X mer!reader

warnings: mentions of noncon/dubious themes, slight violence, sexual themes

" he's lost " by xoxo-teddybear

bakugou x fem!reader

series 4 parts

warnings: angst, physical harm, cursing, accused cheating, katsuki’s insecurities, eventual smut

summary: y/n is so busy around valentine’s, her lack of attention towards her Pomeranian is causing him to freak out and do the worst of the worst.

" i warned you " by melticss

dom!bakugou x sub!fem!reader

warning: dirty talk, slut shaming, play fighting, oral (fem receiving) (male receving) sex, embarrassment

" on your knees " by luvrkay

bakugou x gn!reader

short

warning: blowjob

" drunk fuck " by lighterfluid1

two versions: bakugou x fem!reader | bakugou x m!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, they/them pronouns, drunk sex, lots of degration, aggressive sex, creampie, fingering, overstimulation, some dirty talk, edging, oral sex (both char. receiving), half clothed sex, anal (for m!reader)

bakugou x fem!reader pt 2 | bakugou x m!reader

warnings: they/them pronouns, masturbation, violence, mentions of blood, near death experience, anesthesia/medical drugs, top!receiving, creampie, dacryphilia, degradation, belly bulge, overstim, anal (for m!reader)

" dumb bitch " by dovkss

mean!dom! katsuki x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: after you pine after him for so long with no luck, Katsuki finally decides to take you as his; thanks to his best friend.

warning: dirty talk, oral (m receiving), rough sex, spitting, choking, breath play, degradation, hair pulling, manipulation, dacryphilia, edging, size kink, misogyny, yandere tendencies, kinda ooc, kinda dubcon-ish?, reader is drunk for the most part, katsuki is an ass; poor eijiro won’t take no for an answer and ends up getting fucked over bc of it; katsuki and ei are basically frenemies

part 2

warning: manhandling, blowjob (m receiving), degradation, slapping, public sex, possessive & controlling katsuki; choking & gagging, yandere themes, poor eijiro once again :((

" no title " by thatgirlgames

farm owner!bakugo x chubby cow hybrid!reader

warning: heavy lactation kink, tit sucking, cream pies, cow hybrids, moterboating.

" no title " by salimanderwrites

pro-hero!bakugo x bimbo secretary!reader

warning: boss x employee, reader is both a bimbo and a bit of a perv, bakugo is soft for reader and a soft dom, f and m masturbation, imagined freeuse scenario, imagined exhibition, phone sex, exchanging fantasies (office sex, possessiveness, blowjob, eating reader out), actual sex, praise, oral f!receiving, unprotected sex, brief pain from sex

" no title " by mhathotfic

neko!bakugou x fem!reader

warning: creampie

" bakugou wants to try anal " by 1-800-cybersaint

bakugou x fem!reader

warning: creampie

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two-white-butterflies · 1 year

Text

i know places | a. targaryen

Description: Aegon is a popular streamer, his girlfriend brings him treats every few hours. No one knows who his girlfriend is. Pairing: streamer!aegon/non-showbiz!reader

The first time his fans found out about you - it was totally an accident. He was using his phone to play a mobile game, casually streaming in omelet arcade and twitch at the same time. "I haven't actually touched my phone in a week, I'm sorta a pc guy." he spoke into the mic, using his controls to win and follow the quests in the mobile version of Genshin.

While he was walking to the north part of the map, his phone suddenly flashes a message from you.

HONEYBUNCHSUGARPLUM Heading towards Maccas, you need anything babe?

His eyes widened slightly - pretending that he didn't see the message. "- and I don't play genshin much so I don't think I'll have fun using the mobile version," he continued - slyly changing the topic. He takes a deep breath, seeing that his chat couldn't stop talking about the message.

"What message?" he scratched the back of his head.

You were going to kill him.

DreamStan

Evidence A. Now looking for suspects @egg.streams

PinkIsLife74: Ya'll saw egg's stream rite?

"So the first thing I want to build is a farm for my carrots," Aegon spoke to himself, staring at the chat that was currently going wild because his girlfriend brought him some hot chocolate. He smiles softly, turning his mic off - and giving his girl a small kiss.

"Thanks, honeybunch." he whispered, making sure that your face was far from the camera's view. Once you walked away, his eyes returned to the screen in front of him - and everyone couldn't stop talking about you. He turns his mic on with a small smirk.

"Calm down guys,"

egg.streams: sorry for not streaming today guys 💚

159 comments 178,293 likes

islandinthestream2124: no message huh

hannahbanana90: Find urself a man that lets u use his gaming pc for roblox 😆 - egg.streams: roblox is for pro-gamers ong 💪🏽

bedlam29: HE'S SOFTLAUNCHING BYEE

aegonii_fanbase: I MASTERMINDED IT, I think it's Alys Strong.

7 comments 789 likes

AemondTargaryenOfficialAccount: Could be...but she's dating me so probably not. - aegonii_fanbase: OMG AEMOND NOTICED ME

Hannibal80980: HEAR ME OUT.

"I was sorta thinking 'sophisticated' vibes for our engagement party," you continued walking while holding his hand. "Yeah, and we'll get some white flowers." he added while holding your hand tightly. He was the sweetest boy in the world - he respected your privacy and treated you nicely. You couldn't ask for anything else.

Before you could enter the shop - a man pokes you with a microphone on his hands. "Do you think that husbands should help around the house?" he asked and a laugh escapes your mouth, seeing that he was one of those tiktok interviewers.

Aegon was about to talk to him - presumably pleading to remove the footage but you shake your head. "We have a chance to make it official in the most hilarious way possible," you whisper and he nods - smiling as he lets you answer the question.

"I think it depends on the household, but Egg helps around ours - I have no complains." you laugh and he raises your hand - showing the camera your large diamond ring. "Thank you," the man walks away, interviewing other people.

tobascolikescoke: i interviewed someone on the street and i didn't fucking realize that they were famous 😭 now, twitch royalty @egg.streams probs hates me for exposing his relationship

@pearlstiare @watercolorskyy @sweethoneyblossom1

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon fanfic #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #hotd imagine #house of the dragon fic

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slayfics · 8 months

Text

Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fanfic about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter two: You talk to Katsuki about the Sports Festival.

Chapter links

More time had passed during your time in U.A. and The Sports Festival had finally concluded. It was exhausting and the school had the next two days off to rest.

You lay on your bed as you re-watched the televised version of the event from start to finish. As it concluded they announced Katsuki as the winner. Although he looked far from a winner. In fact, he looked like a prisoner with his arms chained and face muzzled.

Don't they think that was a bit much you thought?

You wondered how Katsuki was doing. Clearly, he wasn't happy about the result even though he won. You glanced at your phone debating texting him. Would anyone else check up on him, you wondered?

Probably Izuku, but if anything that would make him more pissed.

You agreed with the overall opinion that his anger was out of hand and reckless. But, was everyone else going to just dismiss him for that and not listen to what he was going through?

Sure it was dumb to be upset about winning but, if everyone just dismissed him instead of validating him from time to time... wouldn't he just fall even deeper into anger?

You understood what it was like to feel like no one listened to your perspective on things so you couldn't help but have empathy for Katsuki. Even though he did resemble a feral dog fighting back on the restraints.

You also couldn't help but wonder if being restrained like that was triggering for him. After all, it was only a few months ago that he was attacked by the sludge villain. The villain had restrained him in a similar manner to the muzzle and handcuffs used at the Sports Festival.

Fuck it, you gave in and grabbed your phone to message him.

Hey, how are you doing?

You sent and watched with bated breath to see if he would respond. To your surprise, he messaged you back almost as quickly as last time.

How the fuck do you think dumb ass?

You had become so used to Katsuki's vulgar tongue that it hardly made you bat an eye anymore. While the rest of your class still took it offensively, you just brushed it off.

I know that was a dumb question. I just wanted to check on you. Didn't think anyone else would.

I don't fucking need someone checking up on me.

You signed at his response and locked your phone, dropping it to your bed and deciding to leave it. Clearly, he was going to be too stubborn to even accept a listening ear. You started to putter around on your computer when about 10 minutes later your phone buzzed again.

You turned around to grab it, surprised to see it was another message from Katsuki.

Icy Hot is a fucking idiot, why wouldn't he want to show off what he can do in front of the pros? He ruined the festival for both of us.

You were surprised to see he actually began to open up slightly to you.

Want to come over and talk about it? I don't want to talk about anything. But, I'll come over. Since you're so eager to see me.

It didn't take long for you to hear explosions outside, followed by Katsuki coming through your window.

"You know it's daytime you could have come through the front door. I don't think anyone would mind a classmate coming over," You stated.

"Nah, I don't want to deal with all that bullshit." He said, sitting down on your bed making himself as comfortable as he would in his own room.

"I'm sorry about how things went down," You said, causing Katsuki to let out an irritated tch and look away from you.

As irritated as his demeanor indicated he was, the truth was no one had empathized with him. Everyone kept telling him y0U sTiLl w0n tH0uGh. Hearing someone agree with him threw him off, and he wasn't sure how to respond.

"Yeah, half and half is a fucking idiot. Thanks to him the pros don't know what I can really do," Katsuki said, looking back at you.

"Maybe, but if anything I think that reflects more on him than you," You responded.

"Hu?" Katsuki exclaimed, confused.

"Well think about it, if you were a pro hero scouting for talent, would you really be interested in a hero who had some reservations about using his full power? Or, would you be more interested in the hero that showed he's always ready to give it everything he's got," You explained.

Katsuki felt something weird in his stomach that he didn't understand.

"Whatever, you're thinking too much about it," He dismissed you.

"Yeah probably, but... I think you would have won regardless of what Todoroki did though," You spoke, causing Katsuki to look away from you again.

"Duh idiot, of course, I would have won," He said, but his voice didn't carry as much anger this time. The room was silent for a moment before Katsuki spoke again. "You know, you didn't do too bad yourself, the way you used your quirk surprised me. I could tell you trained a lot in order to make it so versatile."

"Wow," Your face flushed just the tiniest bit. "Did I really just get a compliment out of Katsuki Bakugo?" You teased, laughing away your blush.

"Oh shut up you damn nerd. Whatever, I got to go," He said, getting up and walking to your window. "I'll see you Monday," He said as he left.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Shout out to @yuichiroleftarm for the enlightenment of Katsuki being re-traumatized by the sludge villain when being restrained again at the Sports Festival .

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

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rindousbbg · 3 months

Note

Hiii! I love ur work! I would love to see timeskip pro athlete! Kageyama with supermodel/celebrity! Gf in ur style! they would look so hot together and be the ultimate it couple of Tokyo <33 I love this idea sm and I can’t wait to read your take on it!! <3

Summery: kagyama with a girlfriend who is super model and actress.

Genre: Fluff??

A/n: i just wrote it in my style. Hope you like it. I didn't made it long cus idk what to write more. Don't worry you can see better version in future 😭. And also request more if you want. Thank you. Feedbacks are appreciated. Not proof read.

"Tobio you have to go for an interview."

Kagayama's manager informed him. The black haired male didn't liked to give interviews or wether you could say doesn't know what to say. He was scared that he could spit out some nonsense. Poor boy was confused how interview works.

slightly nodding his head he started to strech his body outta no where to motivate himself.

he checked his phone if he had any notifications, there was three messages and one was from his girlfriend and other was from his friends or more like teammates.

Soon he headed out to give the interview.

"Hello Tobio-kun"

"Hi"

The questions were all about volleyball and how he plays etc. but that one question struck his brain and he didn't knew what to say.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Uh"

poor boy looked at the manager for help while the manager's slightly turned downwards preventing himself from laughing.

"Sorry, miss the time is up. Thank you"

the manager and tobio bowed to the interviewer and left as soon as possible.

"Thanks"

"For what?"

"For saving me?"

the manager let out a short laugh in response.

"How was the game?"

"Tiring"

tobuo looked at his girlfriend, tiredness was dripping from both of their eyes.

"Someone asked me if I had a girlfriend."

the girl frowned.

"Ehh, really? Well it's nothing to be shoked of. You are a player. A very handsome one. So I don't see anything wrong here"

Tobio nodded.

"Do you want to make our relationship...uhmm..public??"

the black haired male looked at his girlfriend, hoping say you would say yes. It was tired some for him to avoid the question again and again. Does people can't tell that he doesn't want to reveal it? Whatever it is it's purely because he was tired. Or was it something else?

"Uhm, i won't say that i have never thought about it. But will you be okay?"

"Why won't I be?"

Hearing that thing from your boyfriend made you happy and you let out a giggle.

"Okay, I will make our relationship public."

bird's chirping can be heard in the morning. It was barely 8 am. You woke up since you didn't wanted to lay down in bed anymore. And decided to make breakfast and all.

While you were making breakfast a deep voice spoke out.

"Morning"

You looked at tobio and smiled in return. He turned on the tv to watch his match from yesterday. But instead of his match there was a big news headline.

"Welcome everyone, today's breaking news is The model and actress L/N Y/N and famous vollyball player Kageyma Tobio were seen together at a hotel and also in a restaurant together lot of times. Source had been taking proofs now we can say with pure trust that they are indeed in a relationship"

Kagayama raised his brows in surprise and turned his head towards you. He thought you would be shoked but instead of a shoking expression you had a teasing smile.

"Looks like your wish came true. We didn't had to do anything"

#kageyama x reader #hq x reader #suna x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #kenma x reader #hq x you #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader

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peachsukii · 4 months

Text

Hollow Heart { chapter 2 - the ghost of you }

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: A month's time has passed since your abduction and the boys have not given up on finding you by any means necessary. Between late night phone calls, midnight confessions, and endless breakdowns, they're struggling to go on with life as usual like everyone assumes they should. Bakugo in particular is struggling with your absence, cursing how he wasn't strong enough to save you and locking himself away. Midoriya has opted for the opposite, spending multiple sleepless nights searching for you on his own. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: Thank you to everyone for the support with this story!! I've gotten some of the nicest compliments and am so excited to continue. Enjoy the angst (and light at the end of the tunnel)! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 9,891 as of ch.2 ꒱ Main Post Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5,092k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4,799k] Chapter 2.5 | Choke Chapter 3 | The Grey Chapter 4 | The Good Left Undone Chapter 5 | Tourniquet Chapter 6 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

CHAPTER TWO: THE GHOST OF YOU

The ride back into the city felt like an eternity, the silence between Bakugo and Midoriya excruciatingly heavily in the air. They hadn’t said a word to one another since their mutual breakdown in Sector 42’s field. The only thing on Bakugo’s mind was to go home, lock the door, and shut the whole fucking world out. Midoriya, however, was writing up the report on his phone while it was still fresh in his mind. Unfortunately for them, they were responsible for relaying all of the information from that night back to the agency, the details of your abduction included, no matter how emotionally wounded they were.

Midoriya decided to be the first to initiate conversation. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “I started the -,”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Izuku.” Bakugo’s voice was hoarse, strained by the combination of screaming and crying.

Midoriya pursed his lips into a straight line. “Right…sorry.”

“Just sign my name on the report. I don’t want to look at it.”

“Sure, Kacchan. No problem.”

The silence resumed the entire way back to the agency. They parted ways without saying goodbye.

─── Bakugo’s footsteps were heavy up the stairs of his apartment complex, struggling to climb to the third floor and make it to his door. He stumbled inside while dropping the briefcase containing his hero suit to the floor and kicking off his shoes. Even though he lived alone, there was an entirely new sense of loneliness accompanying his apartment tonight.

Turning on the water in the shower, he set the temperature as scalding hot as it could go. He tossed his phone on the counter, disregarding any messages demanding his attention. Once he stripped down to nothing, all of the cuts, bruises and blisters littering his body from the fight were visible and cast back to him in the mirror.

He wanted to punch his own reflection for being weak.

Bakugo forced himself to stand under the scorching stream of water, the evidence of the night washing down the drain - blood, dirt, sweat and whatever else he tumbled through. He was a stickler for being clean, but that night, he didn't have the ability to give a shit. Once the water ran clear, he didn't bother to move. He stood under the water until it turned ice cold, his mind completely void of thought.

Eventually, he turned the water off with the minimal energy he possessed. He dried himself haphazardly with a towel, water daintily dripping from his hair as he tossed on a pair of boxers and launched himself into bed. Bakugo felt detached as he stared into the void of his bedroom, growing listless as he studied his ceiling mindlessly.

Reaching for his phone on the nightstand, he scrolled through his favorite contacts list and clicked on your name.

Maybe she'd answer?

Big mistake.

Maybe he'd been dreaming - stuck in sleep paralysis or some crazy shit like that.

The line rang... ...and rang... ...and rang... ...then proceeded to voicemail.

What the fuck was he expecting?

It didn't spare him the reflex of his heart cannonballing into his stomach, that familiar nausea returning from the moment she disappeared. The memory of you vanishing into the portal sparked in his mind as his stomach stirred, threatening to be sick.

Oh no, that wasn't a threat - that was a promise.

Bakugo shot up from the bed as the acidity rose in his throat, sprinted to the bathroom and slid in front of the toilet, losing every bit of the junk food buffet from their movie marathon from the previous day.

His knees ached from the rough, bare contact of the cold bathroom tile. The taste of bile coated his mouth as his stomach continued to purge until there was nothing left. Eyes watering, nose running and panting frenziedly, he sank to the floor - an empty shell of himself.

He yearned to go back in time. He'd give everything to rewind and make you stay home - safe and sound. Unfortunately for him, time-travel doesn't exist, nor was there an incantation, spell or charm to wave in the air to summon you back to his side.

You're a fucking coward.

The thought pounded in his head, regret swirling in his gut over every moment he lost not telling you the truth.

THREE DAYS LATER

Three days passed with no sign of you anywhere - not work, not home, and nowhere near Sector 42. The agency officially marked you as missing in action, silently, to avoid alerting the public of their failure to keep one of their heroes safeguarded. No one would even know you were gone via the news, they'd have to search the database of the agency to determine your status.

Y/H/N RANK 37 STATUS: MISSING IN ACTION LAST SEEN: SECTOR 42

Bakugo and Midoriya checked the database for an update hourly, just in case - somehow, someway - you'd re-appear magically before they’d get word of your return.

To their dismay, the status never changed.

The hardest thing was informing your mother of your disappearance, to which Midoriya offered to do on behalf of the agency in place of some unknown board member. Him and Bakugo agreed to visit her together back home in Musutafu to tell her in person. What was the alternative, say "You're daughter is missing" over a phone call? They'd never forgive themselves. They called her together, asking when they could stop in for a visit. Your mother wasn’t naive - she knew immediately something was wrong.

They had to return to Tokyo shortly after their arrival, leaving your mother with nothing more than a broken heart after their explanation of the situation. She tried her damndest to keep herself together but couldn’t keep her composure in front of the boys. You were her only daughter - her only child. There was no replacing you, no siblings to fill in the void of your absence.

“Please, bring her home. That’s all I want,” she pleaded, over and over again.

Midoriya cried himself to sleep on the way home as Bakugo drove them back to the city in complete silence. Your abduction was the equivalent of the weight of the world on their shoulders, a grueling mix of guilt and anger stirring between them. Neither of them talked about that night in the days that had past, not knowing how to approach the subject. Both of them tried to stay in an automated routine, using their work schedules to keep their minds busy.

No surprise, feigning ignorance didn't work.

───

Midoriya tried to contact Bakugo multiple times over the next couple of days, only receiving sporadic one word responses outside of their drive from Tokyo and back. He expected nothing less, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried sick over his best friend's well-being. He didn't know how to help - did he need space, or did he need someone to comfort him?

He continued to remind Bakugo that his phone is always on and he's only a call away, night or day. No matter what, he'd drop everything to talk with him or come keep him company. He pulled out his phone to send another reminder. He’s lost count how many times he’d sent the same sentiment, just rewording the text each time.

(9:15PM) hey kacchan, hope you're doing okay. you don't have to respond, just reminding you if you need anything, call me. i'll be up tonight. (9:16PM) please remember you need to sleep, too. don't push yourself. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. He wasn't expecting a response so soon, let alone at all.

(9:18PM) thanks izuku, you too

Of course, Midoriya would not be taking his own advice. He planned to be up until he passed the fuck out from exhaustion, going until his body physically forced himself to recharge. He was busy taking matters into his own hands, and by that, he was spending endless hours gathering information from the night of the mission. He'd been back to Sector 42 countless times in the last couple days, retracing every single step step, looking for any clues to lead him in the direction of finding the lab - of finding you.

Midoriya monotonously stalked the empty field, frantically scribbling down everything he found:

-The dart canister has no fingerprints attached to it, but left enough of the serum inside to run tests (sample in the science lab - awaiting results) -The dirt in the area had no trace of anyone but us -The portal didn't leave any type of matter behind, no evidence to research -The agency database had no information on a quirk suppressant drug, the only incident linked back to Overhaul years prior (quirk suppressant lasted an hour and was not permanent)

Exhaustion began masking his normal perky expression as the bags under his eyes grew darker each passing day. On top of not sleeping, he was forcing himself to work his usual patrol schedule. Was that irresponsible of him? Other people counted on him, too, and he couldn't handle the thought of a civilian being subjected to another kidnapping - or any crime.

As long as his eyes stayed open and his body would listen, he'd do the job. That's what it means to be a hero.

But who saves the hero when they need one themselves?

The question haunted him in the middle of the night, but he mentally tucked away the unease to deal with another day.

No. There was no use perpetuating that mindset, it wouldn't help the current situation.

He rejected the sentiment, turning his weary eyes up to the night sky as one thought crossed his mind.

She loves the stars. I wish she could see them tonight. ───

Bakugo begrudgingly got his ass to work each day, no matter how fatigued he was. By the sixth day, he was devoid of all energy and full of nothing but resentment for those around him. The color in his life had faded into grayscale, bland and soulless, in just under a week's time.

How could everyone continue on as normal?

Why did time stop only for him, and no one else?

No e-mails had gone out, no news updates - nothing - regarding your disappearance. It's as if you never existed. He began receiving endless calls and messages from friends as word spread, asking what happened that night and offering support. He didn't want to hear it - not from anyone, even if their intentions were pure. His phone was full of notifications that he refused to sort through.

Bakugo wanted to disappear, abandon his feelings and burn the world to the fucking ground.

TWO WEEKS LATER

The agency had officially marked your case as unresolved, shifting the priority from "High" to "Low" status due to the heavy crime rate persisting in the city. It wasn't that they didn't care, it's that they didn't have the staffing to hunt for a missing hero. They were too busy attempting to fill in your patrols for the month to even think about hosting a search party.

It's just how the business worked. Anyone below rank 10 wasn't deemed urgent by the board. They were replaceable.

Bakugo and Midoriya vocalized their concerns, multiple times, for the past two weeks. No amount of explanations, yelling, cursing or threats to quit seemed to make the board budge on their decision. It floored them that they were willing to lose two of their top 10 heroes over the refusal of a search party. They didn't push the issue any further after that, unable to muster up the energy to fight more than they already were. They couldn’t rely on the agency to do anything at this time.

─── The clock taunted Bakugo as he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a sliver solace in his mind to sleep. No TV, no music, no lights - absolute darkness, with the exception being the florescence of the alarm clock blinking 1:17AM. He reluctantly grabbed for his phone, overwhelmed by the thought of just how many messages and missed awaited him. He'd been ignoring any avenue of communication for the past two weeks, no matter who it was.

Tapping the lock screen, he navigated to his messaging app, showing 32 unread messages. He scrolled through the list:

Deku - 15 unread messages Red - 6 unread messages Pinky - 3 unread messages Cheeks - 2 unread messages Hag - 4 unread messages Pop - 1 unread message Ears - 1 unread message

Lite-Brite - no new messages

His heart stutters in his chest when he scrolls too far and ended up on your name. He scanned the letters in your nickname multiple times before clicking into the conversation.

What was the last thing you texted him?

"see ya in the morning for our run! :)"

The physical reaction Bakugo experienced while re-reading the message was foreign to him. His stomach lurched, head ached, and eyes twitched anxiously.

What the fuck was happening to him?

Even though there was no way in hell you'd respond, he needed an outlet right now. His fingers moved faster than his brain could keep up with as he began texting you, spilling out his thoughts like word vomit.

[1:21AM] i bet you’ll never get these, even if your phone is on [1:21AM] there’s so much i want to tell you [1:22AM] like how some mom dropped off muffins for me at the agency cause i walked her kid across the street after a villain attack [1:23AM] or last week when deku was passed out on his desk and drooled all over his paperwork and had to redo it [1:23AM] and this dog i saw in the park on the way to patrol one morning wearing a fucking sweater [1:24AM] idiots don't realize it's summer? poor mutt had to be dying [1:24AM] i've called you out of habit so many times and forget your... [1:24AM] not here

He hated how he sounded like a lovesick dog, cowering with his tail between his legs.

[1:26AM] i miss you lite-brite

Bakugo stared at the screen for minutes, unsure of what to do with himself. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating at an uncomfortable pace as he sat in the silence of his bedroom. Swiping back to his contacts list, he selects the call icon next to Midoriya’s name. The line rang twice before he answered.

“Hey Kacchan. What’s up?” Midoriya’s voice was littered with exhaustion.

“Do you mind comin’ over?” Bakugo asked, somewhat ashamed to be asking Midoriya for help of any kind.

“No, not at all. Everything okay?”

“…no. Not really.”

He couldn’t mask the dread in his tone any longer. The last two weeks were catching up to him like a dam ready to burst.

Midoriya paused, a soft hum vibrating through the phone. “…alright, I’ll be right over.”

While waiting for Midoriya to show, Bakugo made the dreadful mistake of lingering through the photos on his phone. He wasn’t one to take pictures, but he’d save all the ones sent to him from friends. You were the exception. He loved taking pictures of and with you any chance he got. He started flipping through them like pages in a scrapbook, memories flooding back and threatening to drown him in despair. The longer he stared at your face in the photos, the more he felt his lip start to quiver and eyes well up with salty tears.

Bakugo’s limbs began to quake uncontrollably, dropping his phone onto his bed as he sprang up, clutching his chest. He could feel every pulse reverberating through his veins, his stomach on fire with anxiety as his breathing became shallow, oxygen no longer reaching his lungs.

What the hell is this? Was this…a panic attack?

“Kacchan?” Midoriya called out from the living room, not knowing where Bakugo was as he let himself into the apartment.

“You didn’t answer so I used my key..." his voice trailed off as he made his way down the hallway. He heard a faint sound...as if someone was gasping for air? He picked up the pace and slid into Bakugo's bedroom.

"Kacchan?!" Midoriya rushed to the bed, catapulting himself next to Bakugo as he grabbed hold of his shoulders.

"Hey, hey, breathe! It's alright, I'm here. I've got you," he soothes, cupping Bakugo's face in his hands. "You're okay. Just look at me, I'm right here."

Bakugo can taste the saltiness of his tears streaming into his mouth as he's fighting to get his breath under control. The familiar bitterness of nausea is creeping up his throat as he smacks Midoriya's hands away from his cheeks, rocketing off the bed and bolting to the bathroom.

Deja vu, huh?

Midoriya wasn’t far behind, dropping beside him on the bathroom floor. All of Bakugo’s stress manifested into his sickness, heaving every ounce of turmoil from his guts.

“I’ll be right back, Kacchan. I’ll go get you some water,” Midoriya whispers, placing a gentle hand on Bakugo’s back as he made his way to the kitchen.

Confident that he’s now running on empty, Bakugo rocked back on his knees and flushed the evidence down the drain. He rested his head wearily against the cool ceramic bowl, finally able to catch his breath.

Midoriya returns with a glass of water and a wash cloth, handing Bakugo the glass as he makes his way to the sink. He runs the cloth under cold water, wringing out the excess before finding a spot next to Bakugo on the floor. In those few moments, he’s chugged the entire glass of water.

“Here, turn towards me,” Midoriya says, reaching for Bakugo’s face.

Bakugo slaps his hand away, a last ditch effort to save the inkling of pride he has left.

“Kacchan, let me help you.” Midoriya glares at him, silently pleading with Bakugo to let his guard down. They’re best friends, what good is that if he can’t help him in a time of need?

Bakugo drops his hand out of the way, too exhausted to put up a fight. Midoriya runs his fingers through his bangs, tenderly pushing them out of the way of his forehead as he places the cool wash cloth against his skin. He continues gently patting his face to calm him with the cooling sensation, attempting to get his body regulated back to normal.

“If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. If not, that’s okay.” Midoriya takes the wash cloth away from Bakugo’s face, tossing it onto the counter behind him.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice how upset you've been. I just thought you needed space."

The overwhelming uncertainty swirling around inside of Bakugo comes to a head, bursting through the cracks as he begins to sob violently. Head in his hands, no words are spoken as his heart bleeds from the grief of his current reality.

Midoriya immediately pulls him into an embrace, awkwardly holding him on the freezing bathroom tile.

One things for sure - he’s thankful that his phone caught his attention before he drifted off to sleep for the first time in days. ─── The next morning, Bakugo called out sick for the first time in his pro-hero career. He felt worse than death, rotting away in bed as the sunlight came and went over the course of the day. By nightfall, he was roaming aimlessly around his apartment when an idea struck him.

Before he could alter his course, Bakugo was on the way to your apartment with the spare key you’d given him years ago. Walking up to the door, he froze, key in the lock as he tried to shove aside the panic threatening to wrack his nerves for a third time. He pushed the door open successfully and stood in the entryway, unsure what to do with himself next.

Engaging into an autopilot-type trance, he began to walk around your apartment and clean up for you like he always had in the past. The leftover dishes in the sink from movie night that never got cleaned, organizing the blankets on the couch, vacuuming the living room from the crumbs from your movie night snacks, folding the pile of laundry in the corner of your room - every and any task he could get his hands on.

Bakugo hadn’t realized how much time had passed by the time he folded your last shirt in the basket, pulling his phone from his pocket. The clock read 11:35PM. He’d been doing this for 6 hours, stalking around your apartment like it was his own.

But you know what? It gave him hope - a sliver of something he had all but lost in the time you’ve been missing.

It wasn’t long before he’d turned on the TV, stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and climbed under the covers of your bed that it hit him - he’s losing his shit. Your disappearance was driving him into madness. Your absence continuously haunted him wherever he went - at home, work, and in his nightmares. Bakugo didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone how to handle this influx of surging emotions running through him 24/7.

He turned over to the wall to feel a soft lump under the covers. It was a plushie that he’d won for you years ago at an arcade in the city. The two of you had just moved to Tokyo a few days prior. Bakugo remembers fondly how ecstatic you were when he handed the plush to you, jumping for joy like a child. He wouldn’t admit that he spent over $20 on the crane game, determined to win it for you. Could he have bought you one online? Sure, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to take the easy route.

The idea that you slept with it every night made his heart swell.

It wasn’t long before the tears stung his eyes again as he cradled the stuffed animal against his chest, cocooned in your bed sheets. The sheets smelled like your body wash, a whisper of floral notes flooding his senses as he curled into a silk-covered ball.

The bright side?

Bakugo eventually slid into a deep slumber that he hasn’t had in weeks.

ONE MONTH LATER

Bakugo stared at his phone with fervor, focusing on your name in his contact list for the millionth time. He knew there was no use messaging you again - for fucks sake, you were missing. He’d been texting and calling you ever since that horrible night with no semblance of a response, not even a ‘read’ receipt.

It’s been a month. He was starting to lose his sanity, staying up all hours of the night and forcing himself to continue working as a distraction - just like Midoriya. He was running from his invasive thoughts and into a pit of oblivion. He couldn't accept you being…gone. For good. There was no way. He refused to believe some busted D-list villain with one lucky shot could take you out.

The text conversation taunted him the longer he fixated on his phone screen, scrolling back and forth roughly through past messages.

Fuck it.

Bakugo clicked into the response bubble and furiously began typing, continuously sending message after message with no hesitation. His emotional vulnerability got the better of him in the moment as he poured his broken heart out into an electronic void. [2:35AM] i can’t take this anymore [2:35AM] i realize i'm basically talking to a damn ghost at this point, i don't care [2:35AM] it's fucking painful without you here [2:36AM] i'm losing my goddamn mind [2:36AM] i can't sleep or do anything without thinking of you [2:37AM] and i should have told you a long ass time ago about how important you are to me [2:38AM] i'm sorry [2:38AM] i'm so fucking sorry [2:39AM] i miss you [2:39AM] i miss your stupid laugh and your smile [2:40AM] fuck, i just miss being around you [2:41AM] i don't know who to talk to [2:41AM] izuku doesn't understand how shitty i feel [2:41AM] kirishima doesn't either [2:41AM] to be honest, i don't fucking understand it [2:42AM] i feel so lost, i’m grieving someone who’s still alive [2:42AM] and i'm an ass for making your disappearance about my feelings

He’s about to click ‘send’ on his next message when he stalls, analyzing the letters one by one as his throat constricts at the feelings they force upon him.

‘I love you, please come home.’

He deletes the words. He can feel the panic weaving in his stomach and tightening into a knot.

[2:45AM] i don’t want to say this in a fucking text of all things [2:45AM] especially under these circumstances [2:46AM] but i’m scared i’ll never get to say it to you [2:46AM] i’m a fucking idiot for not telling you sooner

He exhaled a shaky breath as his fingers trembled above the glass screen, his heartbeat deafening the world around him.

[2:47AM] god dammit [2:48AM] i love you [2:48AM] like a stupid fucking amount [2:49AM] i convinced myself for years that i didn’t and that you wouldn’t feel the same [2:50AM] when you come home [2:50AM] i’ll tell you every damn day to make up for all the times i didn’t [2:51AM] that’s a promise [2:52AM] i love you lite-brite

Bakugo's heart and mind were coming apart at the seams, sinking into the never ending abyss of sorrow growing inside him. He threw his phone across the room, burying his face in his pillow as he bawled into the soft cotton. He was unable to stop the hot tears gushing from his bloodshot eyes, soaking through the fabric as his muffled sobs bounced off the walls in his bedroom.

And then it happened.

His phone rang from the other side of the room, vibrating against the wooden floor. A wave of rage engulfed his depression as he flung himself off the bed, aggravated by the disturbance. Who the fuck would be calling at almost 3AM? Midoriya or Kirishima, maybe?

And then he saw it.

Your name appeared on the caller ID screen with a picture of you two together.

Is this a sick joke? Was he hallucinating?

Had his psyche finally shattered?

He juggled the phone in his sweaty hands chaotically as he clicked on the "Accept Call" button.

"H-hello?! Y/N!?" Bakugo cried, distressed as he awaited a response. His whole body was quivering and his breathing was labored.

The line was quiet before the call ended.

No.

No no no.

NO!

His fingers weren't cooperating with him as he hopelessly scrambled to call you again until his phone dinged twice.

Text Message: Lite-Brite

'No. Fucking. Way,' he cursed internally, unsure if he's even in the same reality.

There were only two messages from you - a pinned location and an orange heart emoji.

Bakugo blinked again and again at the screen, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. He must've hit a state of psychosis, no other explanation. Why would you have access to your phone...wherever you are? That's impossible.

Or is it?

He worked up the nerve to click on the pinned location text and held his breath as the maps application loaded. The location dinged and showed on the screen where it was sent from.

"There's..." Bakugo grumbled out loud. "...no way in hell this it right."

Sector fourty-fucking-two.

He placed a hand on the back of his neck when something clicked in his brain, a bolt of unanticipated adrenaline wracking his body.

He hurriedly swiped back to his contacts and clicked on Midoriya's name.

Come on, come on. Pick up, nerd. I know you're up.

"...Kacchan?" Midoriya answered groggily.

"Izuku, I need you to come over. Now!” Bakugo demanded. He needed to get this adrenaline rush out of his body and use it to find a solution.

There's a pause before Midoriya’s answer.

"Mm, alright. Is everything -"

"Now!" Bakugo yelled as he clicked the "End Call" button, chucking his phone onto his bed.

He figured it out. He knew where you were.

You’re under Sector 42. That’s gotta be where the lab is hidden. Midoriya never found an entrance because there isn’t one. The only way into this stupid place was through one of those portals.

For now.

His mind was formulating a plan as Midoriya’s knock startled him out of his train of thought. He sprinted to the front door, violently swinging it open and pulling him inside.

“Kacchan! What is it?!” Midoriya was panting frantically, sweat glistening on his forehead and cheeks. “I ran as fast as I could.”

“I figured it out…I know where she is.”

Midoriya scrunched his brows together as Bakugo’s words hung in the air.

“What?!” “She’s not above ground. She’s underground at Sector 42.”

Each chapter I have planned, so far, is named after a song title that could fit as a theme for the specific chapter. This one (obviously) had to be MCR - The Ghost of You is my fave and fits the narrative I was going for, even though the boys know Reader isn't dead, that doesn't mean their grief stops. tags: @bakugouswaif ✩ if you’d like to be tagged when updates are posted, message/comment to be added! ✩

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo angst #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #dynamight #☆.rei writes #✩.hollowheart

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isaut · 6 months

Text

𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓— f!reader x chrollo lucilfer. 2.5 k, refurbished. original: ao3

synopsis: during a simple heist job two years ago, chrollo offered you a cigarette outside the library. it isn’t his fault he fell in love with you, is it? I finally felt it was time to give this fic a face lift. I’ve changed a lot since I started her, and it only felt right. If this gets a sign off from tumblr.com I’ll change the ao3 version

The skyline of Sirap is stunning, with the silhouetted buildings twinkling with lights, a hum bubbling from the streets and from the blimps in the sky. It’s a place that Chrollo has found solace in, has even made a home and a routine for himself in the past few years. He’s overstayed his welcome, set by his own nature. It’s been years since he’s fallen back into his mysterious, nomadic ways.

Sitting in his study, Chrollo’s gaze is not on the skyline. He is not taking in the movements below him, taking up an old pastime of watching as people scurry by and wondering where they are going. Instead, his gaze is fixated on his computer, the blue light of the screen singing his eyes, drying them out. The pen in his hand clicks steadily against the stained oak of his desk.

The steady click click click of the pen does little to soothe the worries that have begun to stir in his stomach. The unsettling feeling on his soul as he reads the message before him.

It’s an email. From his bank. A simple request for 10 000 000 jenny. With a simple message attached.

I took care of the man who requested I eliminate your lover. I’ve forwarded his balance to you. You should receive a file from me shortly with details. Congratulations on your relationship.

In a brief fit of rage that is quite unbecoming of the man he wishes to present himself as, Chrollo slams his hand against his desk before lending back in his chair, stewing over the message. He tears his eyes away from the message, looking instead out the large windows before him. He takes a deep breath of the not fresh air, and it does little to calm his emotions.

As he watches a blimp float by in the sky, red light blinking against the darkness of the night, Chrollo can’t help but feel silly at how emotional he’s being. He can’t help but remember how he used to feel so indifferent, how everything felt stale.

Stale like the air around him.

With little reluctance, Chrollo sends the money over to his somewhat of an ally, Illumi. Their relationship was little more than constant transactions. He stands, stretches his arms above his head. Calling himself a banker had its pros: boring enough no one asked about it. It also had its cons: sometimes sitting in front of a computer for too long, researching his next thrill instead of boring into an excel spreadsheet.

Chrollo thinks that, at the end of the day, death suits him. Even if he’s falsely climbed into the carriage. Even if his back aches from time to time. He briefly considers doing a few of the stretches his lover had recommended. His lover who had gotten him in the mess. The one where he carefully removes bricks from the walls around him and lays new bricks as he lies to cover up his reality. His lover who was still probably perched in the living room, waiting for him to come out of his office.

The idea of you patiently waiting on the couch fills Chrollo with an uncomfortable guilt. He scrolls through his phone, looking for a text chain. He can’t find it, and resorts to drafting a new text in a small group message of just himself, Shalnark and Machi. If he took time to be truthful with himself, it felt odd texting the two of them. Even a year later, there’s an uncomfortable void, two of them in fact, of accumulated grief that press against his soul. He can’t shake it, nor can he steep in it.

We need to have a meeting. In the next few months.

Not ready to linger in those feelings, Chrollo locks his phone. Perhaps he’d mellow in those thoughts of the all consuming grief tonight, with your head resting on his chest as sleep washes over you. His gaze returns to the skyline. It’s dark out, it must be well past dinnertime.

Chrollo shuts down his computer with the forceful, long press of a button. Shalnark, who set up the device for him, is berating him for not using softer methods. Chrollo pockets his phone, eager to deposit it somewhere and forget about it until morning. The journey from his office to the living room isn’t a long one, and it’s one he can chart by the way you’ve dappled yourself along the path.

Gentle music flows from the living room, playing on the speakers that were brought from your apartment when you moved in. There’s a sweatshirt of yours on the ground that he picks up without much thought. He deposits it on the back of the couch, upon arriving to a deserted living room.

It’s not deserted. There’s a blanket that looks like it used to be wrapped around you, slumped in the corner of the couch. There’s a stack of essays on the middle cushion, and a pen set upon them. Half a glass of wine sits on the coffee table, and beside it is your iPad, unlocked.

Satisfaction brings the cat back. Chrollo leans over the iPad, investigating what you had been doing. He takes it upon himself to close the online shopping tab after seeing the total in the cart.

Rounding the corner, you hold a mug of tea in your hands. The brightness of the lemongrass tea fills the air, and you take a deep breath, both of the tea and of the sight of your boyfriend. Both senses wake you up.

Chrollo picks up the blanket, and sits in its place, throwing it over the armrest. He picks up the essay you had been in the middle of grading and flips it to the cover page. It’s thick, at least ten pages. A Turn About the Room: How Women Have Always Been the Secluded Ones.

“Done working?” You ask him.

Chrollo rests his arm along the backside of the couch to take you in. One of his shirts peeks out from below an oversized sweater of yours. Glasses perched atop your nose. He holds his hand out to you, palm up.

“You should be too.”

“I see how it is,” You say, coming over to his open hand. Your hand is still warm from holding the mug, and you slide your palm easily against Chrollo’s.

Only, the man before you isn’t Chrollo, no, there is no mass murderer before you. No grandiose thief. He’s just Kuroro, a man with a penchant for reading and a sadness behind his eyes that’s curtained by charisma and a modern day definition of chivalry.

A man who’s raising his other hand to take the mug from your own hands, the heat barely bothering him. His fingers twine with yours, and he brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon it.

“Do you?”

You nod, leaning over the back of the couch and into his personal space and pressing a kiss against his cheek. He smells warm, of mellow, musky notes that you’ve come to associate when you think of him. Home smells like Kuroro, it smells like the cologne he wears and the aftershave in the morning, curling with a warm drink and incense in the air.

It’s time to stop working for the day.

Rounding the couch, you take a seat right beside Kuroro. Truly, you’re more so on top of him with the way your knee hinges over his thigh. Neither of you care. Not when you’re so close, not when the world seems to just be the two of you.

Kuroro returns your mug to you, his now warmed hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How’s work going?” You ask, blowing on your tea before taking a tentative sip.

Kuroro hums at your question, resting his hand on your thigh. He rubs his hand over the smooth, plush skin. He ponders over how to answer, how to toe the line between being honest and being deceitful. It’s all for your safety after all. And here he has been, thinking he’d been doing a good job of maintaining your blissful ignorance to the world he hid in.

“Stressful,” Kuroro admits, taking a deep breath before raising his gaze.

“Mon pauvre,” You murmur, “Want some tea?”

Pressing his brows together, Kuroro nods. You watch with infatuated eyes as he does just as you had earlier: blow on the warm drink, letting the steam lick up his face before taking a small sip.

“Want to go get dinner?” You pose. “I haven’t eaten yet… We could go to the sushi place down the block.”

The news Kuroro had received minutes earlier rings in his head. Bounces from ear to ear, unable to be ignored. He thinks of the mom and pop restaurant that had infatuated the two of you, of the kind couple who ran it. Of the grandma who greeted you everytime you came in. Who cooed over how cute of a couple you made.

He thinks of an assassination attempt on either one of you. Of the chaos it would cause, of the rubble and the debris. He can envision your scared expression. The dead bodies of the kind family he’d come to know so well.

It tugs at his heartstrings in a way he had believed was long since dead. Perhaps you had made him too soft. Too human. He felt the youth coursing through his soul again.

With reluctance, Kuroro shakes his head. “I’ll make us something. Then you don’t have to get dressed.”

“You’re so considerate,” You say with a smile. “What are we having?”

“I have to check the fridge,” Kuroro replies. “Want to join me in the kitchen?”

Of course you do. You’d altered your 10 year plan to accommodate the man. You’d follow him anywhere.

Kuroro is, in his nature, secretive. It has always carried a certain charm with it: adds to the allure of his dark hair, his well-read nature and clean dress. However, you’ve picked up on a few tells he carries around with him. For instance, when he’s set on surprising you there’s a boyish glint in his brown eyes. When he’s morose in thoughts of life, both his own and philosophical, he’s oddly talkative. Always eager to find solace with his head on your chest or in your lap. And when he’s had a bad day at work, he’s quiet.

You don’t like when he’s quiet. It’s not that you feel the need to fill silence with Kuroro. In fact, normally it’s quite the opposite. Silence is comfortable.

The silence that hangs in the kitchen is not the comforting closeness you’ve grown to love.

As Kuroro investigates the fridge for something to eat, you take it upon yourself to put on some music in the background. Amy Winehouse’s voice seeps through the silence.

“Do you want tteokbokki?” Kuroro asks, holding a bag of rice cakes in his hand. His other rests on the refrigerator door.

You come to stand beside him, peering into the fridge. It’s barren. Only a few condiments and pickled vegetables litter the shelves. You feel an emptiness in your stomach. Did you eat lunch?

“Sure,” You say, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “Do you want some help?”

“Just your company,” Kuroro responds smoothly, closing the door and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. The base notes of his cologne still cling to his skin. There’s cedar and vanilla. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, releasing you slowly.

The gesture has your heart skipping a beat. You feel your face warm, feel as Kuroro’s hand slides along your shoulders.

It makes Kuroro smile slightly, watching your reaction come over. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then opens the refrigerator open again.

“Go sit. I’ll get you some more wine.”

You wet your lips as you take your place on the kitchen island. Kuroro sets the chilled white wine bottle in front of you, then busies himself in the kitchen, combining spices and sauces together and simmering them over low heat.

To keep his mind off whatever was bothering him, you launch into telling him about the essays you’ve been grading— Final papers for your class on women’s oppression in literature. You teach it every other year in the spring, and this conversation is reminiscent of one you had when you first met Kuroro.

This one is about Rokeya’s Sultana’s Dream and Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It’s a fresh take on Austen’s work, and you’re glad to see Rokeya being cited. There are a few inconsistencies in the line of reasoning, but the student is a year too young to technically take the course. She reminds you of yourself, if you’re being completely honest— Ambitious, if not a little scatterbrained.

Kuroro turns off the stove and sets the pot atop a woven potholder in front of you. He adds side bowls and chopsticks to the spread.

“I’d love to take a peek,” He says, getting himself a wine glass to join in with your drinking.

“You can. Want to see it now?”

Kuroro shakes his head and sits next to you. “You know I’ll get sauce all over it.”

Shrugging, you pick up your chopsticks. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spilt on an essay. “Thanks for cooking tonight.”

“Careful, it’s hot,” Kuroro says as his you’re welcome.

Even with his stomach pleasantly full, the overhead fan humming, and you pressed up against his side, sleep evades Chrollo. He tilts his head to the side, his hair fanned out on the too soft pillow. All pillows are too soft to him, anyways. He cushions his head for your comfort.

Sleep’s tireless evasion from Chrollo is not one that he’s a stranger to. He often finds himself in this same position, surrounded by newfound comforts, his heart thrumming softly, his eyes on the twinkling lights of Sirap. Absentmindedly, he rubs his hand up and down your side, taking solace in the way your stomach moves with every deep breath you take.

When you don’t drink before bed, you’re quick to rouse at his gentle petting. Sometimes, you wake at even the slightest shift. Groggily blinking away and rubbing your eyes, trying to see what’s wrong in the pitch black room.

Not tonight. Tonight, you’re full and there’s wine in your brain. And Chrollo is alone with his thoughts.

He turns his head to look at you. Cranes his neck to place a kiss to the top of your head without jostling you.

There’s a grief on his soul tonight, and it’s not own he’s used to. Albeit accustomed to loss, Chrollo’s heart can’t fathom experiencing the gravity of loss again. To be responsible for someone’s death who was so innocent, who had nothing to do with the circumstances he put her in.

So he places another kiss to your forehead, and shifts himself to wrap both of his arms around you. Invites your legs to tangle against his. He closes his eyes, and despite wishing for sleep it continues to evade him. So he takes deep breaths of you: shampoo, bodywash, oils and lotions. He lays in the dark, simply waiting.

#chrollo x reader #by ophelia

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