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#i really thought she was gonna fall off that stool at some point in the interview fghjk
t4yce · 5 months
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XUNAMI MUSE • entertainment weekly cast interview
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tobesolonely · 7 months
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A/N: this is the first thing I've written in like 8 months and it's basically just smut...I was inspired...18+ please lol (this isn't proofread and maybe it should be hahahah)
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“It’s like ripping off a bandaid, love. Just go for it.”
Harry and Y/N were situated in the bathroom, Harry sitting on a small stool facing the mirror with Y/N behind him. She had a pair of hair-cutting scissors in one hand and clippers in the other. He was really doing this.
“You know if you’re bald, you can’t steal my hair clips anymore, right?”
He gives her a faint smirk. “That crossed my mind.”
“No more running your hands through it.”
“Are you upset about that, or am I?”
“This is drastic!”
Harry meets Y/N’s gaze in the mirror before turning around to face her. “Darling, it’s just hair. It’ll grow back. Please help me cut it before I lose my nerve.”
So Y/N ends up with scissors to her boyfriend’s luscious, signature curly locks. Each strand of hair that falls on the ground nearly causes her to flinch, and out of her peripherals, she can see Harry watching her every move.
“Just trying to be careful to make sure it looks good…the whole point of me cutting it is to avoid you going to the shop, yeah?”
Harry reaches behind him at this, slightly squeezing her thigh in confirmation. “I know, love. I didn’t say anything. I don’t have anywhere to be.”
Y/N asks him at least two more times if he is sure before taking the clippers to his head, but when Harry gives her a firm nod telling her to proceed, she tries to remind herself to breathe as she shaves the first section. Harry shivers at the sensation of his hair hitting his bare back and shoulders.
“‘S a good thing I got the head shape for going bald, huh?”
“Well…”
”Y/N! You’re gonna make me second guess-”
“I’m kidding, H! I think you’ve got a lovely head shape for going bald,” Y/N positions herself in front of him so she can better see what she’s doing at the front of his head, near his hairline. “Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hair shorter than when you cut it for Dunkirk.”
“Remember when I picked you up one day without mentioning it because I thought it would be a fun surprise?”
Y/N pauses her movements, playfully glaring at him. “I think I’d mistake you for an intruder or something if you came through the door completely bald with no warning.”
“Isn’t it nice that I asked you to do it for me this time instead of just shocking you?”
Y/N hums at this, and the couple falls into a comfortable silence as she continues to cut his hair. Harry fiddles with his hands in his lap and reaches behind him occasionally to stroke Y/N’s thigh, but nothing is said between the two. 
Harry’s the first to break their cozy silence. “Woah…my hair.”
“I know.”
He turns around on the stool, looking up slightly to make direct eye contact with her. “You like it, though?”
“It’ll grow on me.”
“Y/N…”
“I’m kidding, H.”
He turns back to the mirror, inspecting his reflection. “Tell me you like it, babe. Even if you don’t.”
Y/N lets out a small giggle at her boyfriend’s fishing for a compliment. “You look handsome. It’ll take some getting used to, but…I do like it.”
Harry makes a slight, triumphant noise before letting Y/N resume the task at hand. She splashes lukewarm water on the top of his head and gently pats it dry with a hand towel before finishing off with his favorite aftershave.
“Good?”
Harry leans in close to the mirror and turns his head from side to side, carefully inspecting his new look. After a few moments, he nods, turning back to Y/N and leaning in to kiss her.
“It’ll take some getting used to on my end, too, but I think I like it.”
“They say that after you shave your head, your hair comes back healthier and stronger than ever.”
“So we’re shaving yours next, then?”
Y/N playfully swats her boyfriend, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, no.”
Harry shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind, darling.”
He exits the bathroom, searching for the broom and dustpan to get up his hair while Y/N goes downstairs to begin dinner. He joins her soon after, wordlessly telling her to sit down and relax when he picks up the knife she just set down to stir the pot of sauce she had bubbling on the stove. In front of her sits a cutting board with an onion, garlic, and different colored bell peppers. Y/N hated cutting those vegetables because she didn’t like how hard the smell was to get off her hands, so he knew she was leaving that task for last in hopes that he would do it (he did, of course).
“I hate chopping vegetables.”
“I know, love.”
Harry reaches up to run his hands through his curls out of force of habit and abruptly stops when he realizes there is no longer anything to actually run his hands through. He turns to take a quick peek at Y/N to see if she saw him. She did.
“I knew that would happen!” She exclaims with a laugh. “I just didn’t think it would happen less than an hour after cutting your hair.”
“It’s an adjustment period!” Harry responds with mock defensiveness, joining Y/N in her glee. Even if she was laughing at him instead of with him, he still felt all warm inside because at least he was the reason for her laughter.
“I can’t wait for our friends to see–what do you think Mitch is gonna say?”
Harry spins around, and yanks opens the cabinet in search of one of the many boxes of pasta they always had on hand. “Penne or bowtie?”
“Bowtie,” Y/N gets up from her seat at the kitchen island to fill their big pot with water to boil the noodles. “I bet he’ll be shocked, especially because his hair is so long. Do you think he would ever cut his hair?”
Harry smiles at his girlfriend’s chattiness. “I think he’ll make fun of me a bit - maybe call me an egghead or something to that degree. He’ll like it, though.”
“What do you think the fans will say?”
Harry lets out a huff of air. “Oh, they’ll have the most to say. It’ll grow on them, I’m sure.”
“I can’t wait to see all the discourse on Twitter.”
“Only send me funny Tweets.”
Y/N hums in confirmation and goes back to her seat at the table after putting the water on to boil. “You know what I’ll miss the most about your hair?”
“What’s that?” Harry asks his question absentmindedly as he putters around the kitchen, retrieving plates and two wine glasses. “Wine?”
“Yes, please,” Y/N pauses. “Gonna miss having something to tug on during sex.”
Harry pauses his movements at this, his full attention now on his girlfriend. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods.
“You can still grab on me.”
“Not your hair, though.”
“You can leave me scratches. Will that suffice until my hair grows back?”
Y/N pretends to be deep in thought at this, which causes Harry to laugh loudly. She answers after a few moments. “I suppose that’ll work…”
“Y’know how much I love when you mark up my back,” Harry uncorks a bottle of wine and pours them each a small glass. “Now, there will be no excuses not to.” He walks over to Y/N, carefully handing her her own glass of wine before taking a sip of his. She then takes a sip, puckering her face at the slightly bitter taste.
The conversation is forgotten until the couple is in their room after dinner, bellies full of pasta and tongues stained slightly purple from their red wine.
“Is that really what you’ll miss most about my hair?”
“Hmm?” Y/N hums in response for Harry to continue, distracted at her vanity with her (overly) extensive skincare routine.
“Pullin’ on it during sex.”
Y/N looks at him through her reflection in the mirror. “I mean, maybe not literally the most, but it’s up there. Gonna take some getting used to, that’s all.”
“Maybe we should have sex now so you can start gettin’ used to it.” Harry has a sly look, eyelids slightly drooping from his arousal and the wine he consumed at dinner. Y/N throws her head back in laughter. 
“You know you can just straight up ask for it, yeah?” She caps the last of her serums and turns around to face her boyfriend, stalking toward the bed as she continues talking. “I’m never not gonna want you to give it to me.”
“Oh yeah?” Harry now has a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gonna mark my back all up? Remind me who I belong to whenever I get in the shower?” There was nothing he reveled in more than the burning sensation of hot water hitting his freshly scratched back after a particularly rough session with his girlfriend.
Y/N nods in response as she drops a knee onto the bed, plopping down in front of her boyfriend. Harry smirks at how she’s already been rendered wordless, situating himself on his knees as she pushes her onto her back. “But first…”
He places his hands on either side and immediately dives in, licking a broad stripe up her pussy. Harry quietly moans in pleasure when Y/N lets out a choked gasp, hands immediately reaching out to grab his head.
“Oh, fuck…,” she groans, throwing her head back in pleasure. “Just like that, H.”
He moves his attention to her swollen clit, flicking it quickly in between his tongue. “Like this?”
Y/N sucks in a particularly sharp breath when Harry speeds up his movements, eyes smug at the fact he already had Y/N’s thighs quivering when he hadn’t even been between them for a full minute yet.
“Harry, please…”
He lifts his head momentarily to answer her, lips glistening with a combination of his saliva and her arousal. “Please what, darling?”
Y/N balls-up the fist resting on Harry’s head out of force of habit, letting out a frustrated whine when she’s met with nothing. He chuckles at this and simply reaches up, moving her hand in the direction of his back. Her nails reflexively dig into his back when he resumes his menstruation on her pussy.
His tongue begins moving impossibly faster, wanting to get her there now. He knew she needed this orgasm just as badly as he needed to give it to her. Harry lets out a sharp hiss when he feels her nails drag down the expanse of his back, her moans increasing in frequency and volume. She was close. He removes his tongue from her clit, replacing his mouth with his fingers.
“There you go, angel,” he reaches up to grab her chin with his free hand to force her to look down at him, not up at the ceiling. “Open your eyes and look at me when I’m making you feel this good.”
Y/N forces her eyes open to look at her boyfriend’s. She watches as he thumbs impossibly fast over her swollen bud, murmuring praises and sweet words about how she’s so beautiful and always gets so wet so fast for him. It doesn’t take much longer before Y/N is throwing her head back with a cry, nails digging into Harry’s back and dragging down as she cums. All she sees is flashes of white, hears ringing in her ears and she thinks it might be the best orgasm she’s had all week. Harry sucks her clit through the entirety of her orgasm, wanting to milk her pleasure for as long as humanly possible. He can feel his back beginning to sting and he wonders if Y/N scratched hard enough to draw blood. He hoped so.
“No more…,” she mumbles quietly, pushing her boyfriend’s mouth away from her most sensitive area. “Shit.”
“All good?” He messily wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning down to give her a chaste kiss. “Still missing the hair?”
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thanks for reading! lmk what you thought!
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Hi! I’m autistic and a lesbian and my current hyper fixation/ comfort show is Hazbin Hotel and my favorite/comfort character is Angel Dust. I was wondering if you could write a platonic Angel x gn/fem reader that is angsty and involves the reader comforting and taking care of Angel after a really bad night with Valentino. With cuddling, and handholding and Angel dealing with addiction/ self harm and the reader just being there and supporting him or something. I totally understand if not I just thought I would ask. Also I’m a huge fan of your work!!
So the way the story went, I didn’t get super graphic or anything. It truly is a really angsty fic but mainly comfort and reader being there for Angel with the help of Husk!
Let me know if this fic gets it for the prompt and if not, send me another request and I’ll take another swing at it. :)
rating: PG
genre: angst/confirt
characters: Angel x Reader, platonic
warnings: talk of boundaries, crossing physical boundaries, being a good friend.
Angel came into the hotel, looking distraught. He went to the bar and laid his top half on the counter, Husk and I giving each other a glance. I reach over to Angel to pet his hair, and the minute I touch him he shoots up, on guard, eyes wide.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me.” He says, his eyes pointed at me.
“Hey, Angel, she was just trying to help.” Husk said, trying to diffuse the tension.
“I’m not. I’m sorry.” I say.
“But you DID.” Angel cries getting up. “You touched me, without even asking if you could. I’m not property for everyone to stroke tonight.” He yells, running off. I look at Husk and he sighs.
“I fucking hate Valentino.” I hear myself growl out, watching where Angel disappeared. My face falls quickly, knowing that Angel was upset right now.
“Go after him kid.” Husk says, cleaning out a glass. “One of us needs to and I think you gotta apologize.” I nod and quickly take after Angel, not before grabbing some waters from Husk and a few snacks he keeps behind the bar. I get up to Angels door and knock lightly, hearing the soft sobs inside Angel’s room.
“Angel, can I come in?” I ask. There’s no answer, but the door opens revealing an empty room. I walk inside and sit down on Angel’s bed, seeing him in his chair in the corner.
“I brought some water and snacks. I know you need them. I’m going to set them here on this stool, okay?” I explain.
“I’m not gonna fucking break.” Angel glares at me and I sigh.
“I’m not sure right now how to help you. I understand that I crossed a boundary early and I’m trying to be respectful of that, but you pulling up a defense mechanism that you’re fine and aren’t going to break isn’t giving me clear signs here.” I explain. “I want to help. How can I?”
Angel looks at me and all the malice and anger melts in an instant as he gets up, starting to sob and throws himself at me. He lands in my arms, kneeling on the ground as I was sat on the edge of his bed.
“I’m sorry.” Angel kept crying over and over.
“No, I’m sorry. I never want to make you uncomfortable Angel or make you feel like I don’t respect you. That is so far from the truth.” I explain, clutching him to me.
“How can ya respect me? No one does. It’s what I deserve.” Angel mutters, his eyes dark.
“You do not deserve any mistreatment Angel. Regardless of the contract you have with Val. You deserve so much more than that blind bitch of an overlord could ever give you.” I declare, as I feel a chuckle.
“Blind Bitch?” Angel snorts.
“He couldn’t see two inches in front of him let alone two feet. Reason why he stays with Vox.” I joke back as Angel laughs again. “Come here.” I say and climb up Angel’s bed, laying on my back. Angel happily comes up and lays on my chest with Fat Nuggets curled up between us.
“Do you think everything will be all right?” Angel murmurs, his eyes slowly closing as he fell asleep, while I put his phone on silent.
“Everything will. And if it’s not all right, it’s not the end.” I murmur, gently brushing through his hair and I hear the gentle snores coming from him, allowing sleep to take me over too. Not before setting an alarm and texting Husk to wake me so we could make Angel breakfast.
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killerpancakeburger · 10 months
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Bloody nose // Miguel O'Hara
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Pairing: Miguel O'hara x female reader
Summary: You find out that your 14yo niece is spider-woman and are very pissed about her keeping it a secret from you. But as you're lecturing her, her boss from the spidersociety shows up. Needless to say you are not happy to see him.
Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mention of alcohol drinking.
Tags : comedy, action, slow burn, Reader has superpowers, but is neither a hero nor villain, BAMF!Reader, Reader takes no shit, Miguel takes a beating but he's fine I promise, no use of Y/N.
Words: 2539.
A/N: Haven't written fics in years and its my first time writing one in English so, uh, go easy on me i guess? 😅
Part 2
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The night was falling on New York. The booming laughs of your coworkers were resonating in the bar where you were spending your evening after work.
Being a bodyguard/security guard meant working in a field oversaturated with testosterone, but you made it work somehow. After all, a demonstration of your powers was always enough to deter any doubts on your abilities, and the rare stubborn ones left who harassed you about it were eventually convinced by a good beating. You quickly gave up on hiding your powers, since no one who saw you get shot and walk away with bruises would believe you were normal. But that's when NDAs came in handy. All in all, you liked your current company, your boss, and your teammates. To the point of spending time with them outside work, which meant a lot coming from you.
You're sipping your beer on a stool as usual, listening in on the conversations, when a notification makes you look at your phone. It's a text from an unknown number with a file attached. The text, laconic, says: "Thought you might wanna know about this."
When you recognize what's happening on the picture you received, you spit out your beer in shock and start choking.
"What the fuck!" You manage to groan.
Unfortunately your behaviour haven't gone unnoticed by your coworkers, and before you can say anything else, they start poking fun at you.
"What's happening to you? Can't handle your alcohol anymore?
"I know the beer is bad but its not that bad. You're gonna give the barman a complex."
"Did you receive a thirst trap or something?"
You do not grace them with an answer.
Beyond the good-natured mockeries, you see your closest colleague discreetly checking that you're not really choking to your death.
You have no time to lose. You finish your glass in one shot and gets up. Protests and falsely upset booing rise around you.
"It's way too early to leave!"
You cut short the argument with two words: "duty calls", which everyone of them know is code for “urgent private family matters”.
You grabs your leather jacket, your helmet, you dump a bunch of cash on the counter than is enough for your drinks, tips, and more, and you get out of here like the devil's on your heels.
Once outside, the fresh air helps to clean your mind. You take a deep breath before you start texting the number from earlier.
"Surely you wouldn't sent me this without coordinates?"
You can hardly stay still waiting, but the response comes up barely a minute later, with coordinates and a sarcastic message: "She's on top of an abandoned building of 50 floors. So have fun with that."
You swear at the new information. "Great! Just fucking great!"
You straddle your motorbike and take off like a shot. As you drive, the photo you received is stuck in your mind. Naomi, your 14 years old niece, wearing some kind of superhero suit, sitting carelessly on the ledge of a building. Between her recklessness and the fact that she kept being apparently a freaking superhero from you, when you've always been close, you feel your blood boiling. You imagine how the upcoming confrontation will go. Will she be ashamed? Panicked? Angry?
Not sticking exactly to the speeding limits has you right where you want to be in a short time. You inspect the building from outside. Abandoned means no electricity, and no electricity means no elevator for you... You leave your helmet and your bike behind. You assess the building, noticing large enough grips for climbing, and figure out how high you can get just by jumping. Then you walk backwards a few meters, take off running, gathering speed, and leaps as high as your superhuman body can. As soon as you reach the peak of your jump, you grab the closest ledge. Secure in your climbing, you start your ascension, going as fast as you can. Missing Naomi because you were too slow is out of the question.
You soon reach the top and dust yourself off a bit before going after your niece. The bright colours of her suit makes her easy to catch. You sneak behind her, ready to catch her if she falls, and calls her full name in a tone that betrays your frustration. You hate sounding like a parent grounding their kid – there are reasons why you’ve never had one after all –,  but it's too late now.
She has more or less the reaction you were expecting – she flinches hard, and turns to look at you with a melange of shock and horror that makes you feel like the Grim Reaper coming for her life. She puts a hand on the back of her neck in embarrassment, and offers you a smile that looks like a grimace more than anything else.
“Au-auntie… what… what are you doing here…?”
She lets slip a nervous little laugh as she gets up from the edge but keeps a distance from you.
You cross your arms and looks at her sternly, trying to communicate with your glare that she better not try to bullshit you.
“I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”
The grimace widens and she avoids your gaze. You notice beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
“Oh well it’s a funny story, see-“
“What the hell are you wearing? Are you trying to be a superhero?”
“I’m not trying-“
She seems insulted at the assumption, and regains a bit of confidence for the first time since you arrived.
“You really thought you could hide this from me?”
You are her only family member with superpowers, even if you never tried to be a superhero.
“Oh auntie, it’s not like that…”
She looks genuinely sorry, like she understood that you felt hurt by being shut out.
“Then what is it? I can’t believe you hid this from me. I’m not your dad. I wouldn’t have been mad at you. Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?.”
You sigh and bow your head with a disappointment you can’t contain.
Naomi makes a step towards you, worry on her face, extending her arm like she wanted to comfort you.
“Listen, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, but they made me promise not to…”
Your eyes open wide in horror and realization dawn on your face. Your whole body tense.
“They? Who the fuck is they? Are you being blackmailed?!”
You can’t help from raising your voice. Panic surges through you. You’re not one to lose your cool easily, but your niece is the exception to the rule. You’ve loved Naomi unconditionally since she came into this world. She could probably become a murderer and your feelings wouldn’t change. However, since her mother died – since your sister died –, she became the apple of your eye. You’ll be damned before you let anyone harm her.
Meanwhile Naomi panics too, but for what seems to be considerably different reasons. She grabs her hair and start walking in circles.
“Damn it! That’s not what I meant… I’m not supposed to… I promised I’d… Crap! Listen, I’m not being blackmailed, I swear!”
“Oh yeah? Then what-“
You’re interrupted by an incessant beeping that you quickly identify as coming from some kind of watch Naomi’s wearing. You narrow your eyes in defiance. You’ve never seen that thing before.
“What is that?”
Before you can finish, Naomi hurried to, quite uselessly, hide the watch behind her back.
“NOTHING!”
Another nervous laugh.
The beeping doesn’t cease.
You pinch the bridge of your nose with a mix of irritation and weariness at her shenanigans.
“Naomi. Whatever this is, make it stop.”
Reluctantly, Naomi brings the watch before her and pushes a button on the side of it. A flip screen deploys. Immediately, a male voice blasts from it. Its owner sounds riled.
“Naomi. I was expecting your report three hours ago. Explain yourself.”
 His commanding and uncompromising tone immediately rubs you the wrong way.
“Oh, hi Miguel… I just… uh… I’m about to send it, I just ran into some… trouble…”
You post yourself at your niece’s side and get a peek of  “Miguel”.
His striking red eyes are the first thing that catches your eye – you’ve never seen a hero with ones. Only villains. His face is broad, his features defined and his jaw unyielding. His thick, dark eyebrows are frown and his full lips aren’t smiling. Dark brown, pushed back hair that reaches the back of his neck frames a visage that must be pretty when not stuck in a perpetual expression of irritation.
Before he can formulate in response what obviously seems like criticism, you grab Naomi’s wrist, bring the watch closer to your face and articulate as clearly as possible :
“Consider this her official letter of resignation, dipshit.” You end the call.
Naomi instantly starts screaming in protest.
“Auntie! What the hell! Why did you do that!?”
“Is that fucker pressuring you? Who does he think he is, talking to you like that?”
“No! It’s not like that!” She sounds intent on defending that rude asshole. “He’s just… argh, I’m not supposed to tell others about the Spider Society!”
As soon as she finishes her sentence, she puts both hands on her mouth, as if it could stops her from blurting out more classified information.
“The Spider what?”
She shakes her head, mimicking the action of zipping her lips, and keeps a stubborn silence.
You roll your eyes at her childish antics and decides that enough is enough.
“I’m gonna get answers about this, whether you’re the one telling me them or not, are you aware of that?”
Silence. You put your hands on your hips and sighs.
“Whatever. I’m bringing you back home. And I’m telling your father about this.”
Suddenly her lips come undone.
“What! NO! Auntie, come on!”
You shake your head, implacable, and starts leaving, knowing she’ll end up following you anyway.
“This is not a negotiation, kid.”
“Nooo, you can’t do this to me! Please! He’ll ground me til adulthood! I’m begging yo-“
Naomi’s whining suddenly come to a halt as you start hearing some kind of… music? Coming from behind you.
*Spider-Man 2099’s theme starts playing*
[Insert "Why do I hear boss music?" meme.]
You turn around to see some kind of unstable orange-red hexagon floating over the ground and the man from the watch exit from it. You stay speechless, blinking in incomprehension.
“What the fuck.” You let slip under your breath. You’ve seen more strange phenomena than the ordinary mortal but this is something else entirely.
Unfortunately “Miguel” didn’t wait for you to come back to your senses and took advantage of your silence to start admonishing Naomi.
“Not only you let a civilian discover your identity but you showed them your watch? How much did you tell them?”
Miguel’s appearance seems to have turned your niece into a frightened mouse. She takes one step back for each he makes towards her, and you’ve never seen her so thoroughly shaken. Each words coming out of her mouth sounds like it’s tripping over her teeth to get out.
“I… I didn’t tell her anything… w-well I said the word Spider Society once but…”
Miguel grunts in frustration.
“ I knew it was a bad idea to take you in.”
You post yourself protectively in front of Naomi and are forced to note the size difference between him and you. He is massive. But you quickly pull yourself together – your strength always put you on top, even when your enemy had 30cm and 30kg on you. You narrow your eyes and throw a murderous glare at the man in costume.
“Leave her alone. She did nothing wrong.”
He immediately argues back.
“You-“
“I followed her here. There’s nothing she could have done to stop me.”
“Auntie has powers too”, pipes up Naomi behind you.
“Great, fantastic. Does that mean you’ll keep your mouth shut about this?”
You can feel your anger raising in your chest like a wave.
“There won’t be anything to shut my mouth about, because Naomi’s superhero’s business ends here and now.”
“But-“ starts Naomi.
“It’s out of question. This world needs a spiderman to protect it.” Announces Miguel like it’s law.
“Then find another spiderman!” you exclaim, exasperated.
“There is no other Spiderman.” He hisses back.
“Aren’t YOU a spiderman?” You gesticulate in direction of his suit.
He passes a hand over his face like explaining this to you is the bane of his existence.
“I’m the spiderman of Earth-928. There is no one else who can do this.”
“Tough luck.” You snap back. “My niece isn’t going anywhere.”
The tone between you two keeps raising, and soon you’re engaged in a shooting match.
“It’s not up to you. Her being spiderman is a canon event.”
You look at him like he’s insane – he must be.
“It’s a WHAT? No, wait, I don’t care. Deal with your own shit and leave my family out of it.”
You illustrate your words by shoving him hard in the chest, and he’s pushed back a few meters. His eyes flashes a bright, menacing red, and you swear he’s about to pounce on you when Naomi get between you two, arms outstretched in each of your directions.
“Don’t fight! We’re all on the same side!”
“He wants to use you!”/ “She can’t be reasoned with!” you both shout.
“The town needs me, insist Naomi in your direction.
You take your head between your hands.
“Can’t the town wait til your majority?”
But as the words leaves your lips, you already know how senseless they sound.
You sigh hard. Pinch the bridge of your nose. Knowing you are going to regret immensely what you’re about to suggest.
“What if I did it instead?”
“No.” reply instantly Miguel, a harsh expression on his face.
You roll your eyes. He could at least hear you out.
“Think about it for a second, smartass. I have had years to master my powers, contrary to a teenager. I have combat experience with both humans and supers. I’m a bodyguard. It’s literally in my job description to identify threats and neutralize them while protecting other people. I know how to work with a team and on my own. You won’t find a better recruit anywhere else.”
Never in your life you would have imagined presenting your resume to Spiderman, but looks like things are only gonna get crazier.
Miguel grunts, like agreeing with you was physically painful for him.
“Fine.”
“See, I knew we could come to a compromise!” Naomi beams. “Miguel is meaner than he looks, she adds to your intention. Well except for the time he threw a desk at me but-“
“He threw a WHAT at you?!” you scream in astonished rage. The fury who accumulated inside you all evening boils over.
“You fucking piece of shit!” You snarl at Miguel. He doesn’t have the time to react. You punch him in the jaw hard enough to send him flying through one, two, three buildings before you stop counting.
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ihavemanyhusbands · 4 months
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Ooo okay, My birthday just passed yesterday and I would absolutely love to request a Richie Jerimovich x reader fic/drabble/headcanons on what he would do for her birthday. Maybe how he would celebrate or if he would get her a gift or something? I feel like he’d suck at it but would try his best ahhh so cute haha thank you if you do this! No worries if not!
Omg happy birthday anon!!! I hope you had a great day! ❤️❤️
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“The banner’s crooked on the left,” Richie said, pointing at it. “It needs to go up higher.”
“Like… here?” Fak asked, raising his side.
“No that’s too much, a little lower.”
“How about now?”
“Lower. No wait now that’s too low!”
Richie sighed in frustration, passing a hand over his face. Sweeps, holding the other side of the banner, also sighed, growing impatient.
Ebra, who was blowing up balloons with Sydney, chuckled. Richie shot him a glare, but he was undeterred.
“You are getting hysterical again, my friend,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I need everything to look as good as it can,” Richie huffed before turning back to Fak. “Okay, just a few inches higher…. There, right there! Don’t you dare move it!”
Finally, the homemade banner that spelled out “Happy Birthday!” was taped to the wall. Fak and Sweeps stepped off their respective stools and high-fived before looking at their handiwork.
“Looks good man!” Fak exclaimed. “You think she’s gonna like it?”
“I sure hope so,” Richie said, glancing down at his watch. “Syd, what time is Marcus gonna be here with the cake?”
Sydney shrugged. “He said he’d be here by two thirty, but you know he’s a perfectionist.”
He rolled his eyes but nodded his assent. “We’ll deal with that in a second, but now we gotta hang the streamers.”
The front door opened, and while everyone had expected someone like Carmy or Tina, it was you who stepped into the apartment.
“Um… what’s going on here?” You asked, shocked at the sight before you.
“Baby! You’re here early!” Richie exclaimed, his eyes wide and horrified. “Shit, I thought you wouldn’t be back until later… I didn’t want you to see it like this.”
Your lower lip trembled and your eyes watered. “You were planning a surprise party?”
“Well, yeah! I just…. It’s my girl’s special day,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
“Do you want me to leave? I’ll forget I saw anything!”
“No, no, well…” he trailed off, gesturing towards the others.
“Surprise!” Everyone said, trying to sound as excited as possible.
The tears of joy spilled then and you extended your arms to the sides. “Awww you guys! Come here, why don’t we have a group hug?”
Everyone huddled around you for a hug, wishing you a happy birthday. You grabbed Richie as everyone else dispersed, bringing him in for a kiss.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry I ruined the surprise,” you said, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I love it, I really do. I love you.”
Richie smiled, bending down to kiss you once more. The front door opened again, and this time Marcus appeared carrying a box.
“Cake’s here! Oh…” he said, his face falling when he saw you.
“A little too late there,” Richie sighed.
“It’s never too late for cake!” You chastised, smacking his arm and heading to the kitchen. “Let me look for some candles.”
You wiped at the tears in your eyes, still smiling so wide it hurt. Even if it wasn’t perfect, you didn’t think there was any other way you’d want to celebrate your birthday.
——
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strawhatsoraya · 2 years
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hihi ૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა i'm trying not to send u 1 million requests, do u know how much restraint i have?? anyway, may i pls request 👄(smut) for renji (u already know the vibez) w. fling/one night stand & justice is a woman; pls thank u, ily xx fall in love (ꈍᴗꈍ)♡
You come into my home--my house--and you request Abarai Renji SMUT? What did you think was gonna happen???
Renji smut, of course, that's what. As if I'd say no. That man *chefs kiss* His tattoos, the red hair, the big tiddies, the big ass sword to match his [censored]. Roar, Zabimaru is the safe word. Pass it around.
I wrote...this little piece for you. I say little, but it is in fact, a big'un. 5k. All for Renji (and you). Once again, bb, thank you for the prompt. I live to write and please.
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Tit for Tat
ABARAI RENJI X FEM READER | NSFW
WORD COUNT: 5k (bruh...what the fuck happened.)
CONTENT WARNING: you know it: alcohol consumption, it is what it is, renji is so mean like i will fight him but i don't have the muscle, nipple play, biting lots of biting like ridiculous, renji likes to slap ass and pussies too, ya know for fun cause it's cute and shit, vaginal penetration, for as long as this damn thing is you WOULD THINK they did more, but no, degradaaatiooon i guess????, he's mean so really that's all i can say, oh yeah maybe size kink, renji got a big [censored]
A BADLY WRITTEN SUMMARY: Y/N really thought she could until she couldn't. There's nothing else to it. You just gotta read it, folks.
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You had been watching him since he entered. It was compulsory; some kind of involuntary reaction. You tried to reason with it, tried to understand the explanation behind the sudden acceleration in your heart beat. You frown at your thoughts, swirling your wine glass. The maroon liquid spinning inside beckons you to look for him again. You admire the fiery mane of hair as you bring your glass to your lips for a taste and find yourself disappointed.
This was your favorite, from a bottle of St. Henri Shiraz, full-bodied and heavy on your tongue; still it barely whets your palate. What you’re craving is something else, something new; thrilling and exciting, like the dark geometric tattoos on his forehead, or the teasing beginning of one, peeking out from his v-neck shirt.
You drink again from your glass, hoping to stave off the gnawing hunger. 
It is still inefficient; a waste of your time, just like any continued further attempt would be. At this point, you consider it necessary to leave your spot at the bar. You leave your glass behind. No further souvenirs were needed. Heels clicking on the floor, you squeeze between him and the empty stool by his left.
“Do you mind?” you ask him, practicing your most innocent voice as you drop yourself on the stool. He doesn’t glance at you, but somehow you feel it–his appraisal of you. It was quick, and left you wanting more.
“I don’t care either way,” he spoke gruffly, bringing a glass of sake to his lips. The last thing he wanted was to be tangled up with a human in his gigai body. Renji was just looking for a night to clear his head, away from everyone he knew. If he had intended to keep company he would have invited Rukia or even harassed Ichigo–but the orange haired idiot was busy with college now; a grown man.
Renji’s smile is derisive, as he does his best to hide it behind the glass. His smile threatened to be destroyed at the feel of a hand traveling over his thigh; nails trailing gently until they found his knee.
He feels his muscles react despite the urge to resist. They flex under your touch. He swallows and turns his head slightly to look down at you. You notice the enticing sharp lines of his jaw tense in restraint. It was enough to goad you on.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” you interrupt his thoughts like an elephant in a china shop–frail ceramic inhibitions shattering into an infinitesimal number of pieces.  Until there was nothing but dust, nothing to put back together. He swallows, not for the first time since you sat down, apprehensive words. 
“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Renji says at last with a casual roll of his eyes. You notice that he still refuses to look at you head on, so you dig your nails into his bony knee. He flinches. An exposure of teeth when he hisses sends goosebumps fleeing over your already heated skin. He looks at you now, brows furrowed, annoyance circling darkly behind his eyes.
Your hunger grows.
“I want you,” you tell him, leaning forward, aware that your cleavage was barely contained in your tight dress. You hoped it was enough to entice him. His eyes linger on your breasts, and you watch him struggle to pull them away. When he looks up at you, his lips are slightly parted, as if he was weighing the words on his tongue. You hum at the thought of it. Curiosity fills you with fantasies about the taste of his tongue, the feel of it on your skin. “Once. Tonight.”
In the back of his mind, he is aware this is a horrible situation to be in. It felt slightly immoral. In a body that was not truly his, he desired you. He felt the dip at the pit of his stomach, felt a growing thickness between his legs. He takes in a sharp breath as he looks at you, observing your fiery gaze. He wants to admonish you but his mouth is a bloody traitor.
“I won’t be held responsible for anything,” he tells you, curling your top lip. Irritation was heavy on his voice, as he tried his best to stop himself from devouring your mouth right then and there. “If you understand…” His voice dies as he swallows thickly again. It is difficult, so he finishes the rest of his sake in one shot.
You watch him throw his head back, and picture yourself licking and sucking up the column of his neck. Your thighs rub together, and you grow tired of it; waiting and waiting for him to decide.
When he finally stands, you seize his wrist. There’s resistance at first, as you do your best to drag him away from the bar. He mentions something about the check, but you ignore him. This was your usual spot as you lived within walking distance. The bar owner knew you. If anything, they’d put it on your tab.
The walk to your place seemed longer than usual as you fought the urge to put your hands all over him. His shirt clings to his muscles in a way that you could see them flex when he moves. You try your best to forbid it–your naughty hands, but they are on his biceps as you pull along, assessing, measuring. He was strong, and the look he gives you through his lashes as he looks down at you is hot enough that you almost imagine your clothes burning away.
He snatches your wrists, and pulls on you roughly. You collide against his chest, and gasp at the feel of his hard body. “Keep this up,” he hisses as he swoops towards your face, his nose inches from yours. “And I’ll just pull you into an alley.”
You are much too old to feel this way, much too wise to think your knees feel weak but you feel your strength leave you. You were a creature of comfort, but an alley didn’t seem entirely bad at the moment.
With a promise to behave, he lets you go, and you lead him at last to your apartment. 
As you fumble with the keypad, something you’re quite embarrassed to even think about, you try to think up your next steps. Should you offer him a drink? Or would that be a further waste of time?
He seems to believe so, as he takes you in his arms the moment the door closes. His hands are in your hair, long fingers tangling in between dark curls. His tongue slips past your lips meeting no resistance. He is determined, but not eager, brushing against your tongue. You moan when he curls his tongue around yours, claiming it for a suck. He tastes of sake, and regrets.
Something prickles behind your eyes, but you push it away, deepen the kiss. Your hands roam freely now, over the planes of his muscular abdomen. They rise to his chest and you squeeze the flesh and muscle, absolutely devastated that your hands are not big enough, not strong enough to mark your territory further. So you dig your nails into his chest as he kisses down your neck. You feel him hiss, his hot breath bouncing against your marred skin. One of his hands travels from the back of your head, to dance over the small of your back until it reaches your ass.
He returns the favor, digging his fingers painfully into an ass cheek.
“Easy,” he tells you against your pulse. He nips and sucks until he feels you shudder in his arms. “I’m not that forgiving.”
The taste of danger, heavier than the red wine you drank, lingers on your tongue as he kisses you again with your face in his hands. You reach for him, blinded by the shimmering light in his hair but you grasp nothing as he tosses you back on the bed. You try to sit up to meet him but he is faster, pinning you underneath him.
You gasp as he grabs your breasts, kneading and gripping. You bite back a whimper. He frowns at you, and shakes his head once. “Now why would you do that?” he asks you. His tone was serious, chilling. You barely breathe as he releases your breasts to grasp the front of your black dress instead. A single moment of violence was enough for him to tear your dress in half with his bare hands. Your shout turns into a gasp as the blast of cool air touches your heated skin. The sound of fabric ripping haunts your ears. Fear and desire mix into a deadly concoction. Still, you swallow it all just like the sight of him above your trembling body.  “There we go,” he sings, a crooked smile tugging his plush lips. “You shouldn’t hold back. I want to hear you fall apart.”
You want to be mad; truly, you do. The dress had not been cheap, despite its light fabric. Sometimes, you paid for a brand name more than the quality. It had been your mistake, just like your choice to go braless. You were left vulnerable, exposed. He did not hesitate to exploit any weakness, not in battle, nor in bed. His long tongue laps at an erect nipple, soft and explorative at first. When you moan, and arch into his kiss, long, hard and wet he is convinced that he made the right decision.
Tonight was the perfect time for a day off.
Your skin is addicting, sharper and more intoxicating than any drop of alcohol he had ever consumed. Your breast feels soft, and perfect under his large hand. He grips it tightly, and wonders if he will have enough time tonight to explore the rest of you; all of you. For all your boldness, you had become malleable under his touch. He smiles mockingly down at you, as you moan not for the first time, when he flicks a nipple with his thumb.
“You’re all bark aren’t you?” he asks you, and ignores the irony; ignores how in a way he can relate. He leaves a wet trail as he kisses down your sternum, and down to your belly, nipping playfully at the soft flesh under your belly button. Your nails are in his hair, and he tilts his head pulling away from you. He frowns up at you, with a mild sense of irritation. It doesn’t last long, lust taking precedence. “Don’t mess up the hair,” he tells you, and it only makes you want to do it more. You gingerly touch the pins in his hair, keeping half of it up, in a silent thank you. Because of them, you're able to watch him as he runs his tongue over the string across one hip–the thin strings that keep your thong in place. The sight of his tongue, long thick and red made you even hornier. You whimper, and your eyes threaten to close when he parts your legs. He turns his mouth to your other hip, eyes closed as one hand finds your heated core. He slides a thumb, gently at first, over your fabric covered slit. Even through the thong, he feels your wetness. He hums as he drops kisses on your pelvis, tongue running along the elastic of your underwear.
“You’re not wet enough,” he states with another curl of his top lip. You swallow as you watch him pull back to stare at your cunt. It was true that you still had your underwear on, but watching him watch you with such a clinical expression was embarrassing. His frown deepens and he tilts his head. “How disappointing.”
You jolt at his words, and push him off of you. Your hands are on his thick chest and you push with all your strength, until you topple over him on the bed. “How dare you,” you hiss, straddling him. He watches you in surprise, chest rising and falling as his breath hitches. It takes a moment, a second of silence, before he smiles; big, bright and genuine. It is loathsome how it fills you with a strange sense of warmth, so you dig your hands into his hair and pull. You force him to look at you, as you put on your best mean face. “Whose fault is it that I’m not wet enough according to you? Maybe you don’t know what you’re doing.”
He laughs at you, even as you tug on his hair one more time. He brings a large hand, and curls his fingers around your thin wrist. You know in a battle of strength you could never beat him. You seize the opportunity of surprise and swoop down to bite his lower lip, with enough strength and viciousness to draw blood. He hisses into a heated kiss, smearing blood on both your mouths. 
The taste is coppery, metallic and you pretend your mouth is a furnace as you suck on his tongue, melting all his hardened edges so that you can mold him into something powerful; something beautiful.
It is lust and delusion that brings you to grasp his shirt in a pathetic attempt to rip it open, to expose the chest you so desperately want to kiss. His laugh echoes in the room, and you feel the sting of embarrassment on your cheeks. You glare at his mouth, now open as he gasps when you slip your hands under his shirt. Your eyes flutter just at the feel of his muscle, at the sensation of his cock growing even harder and bigger underneath your throbbing pussy. You needed a defense, a solution; so you pull the front of his shirt all the way up and shove it in his mouth.
He amuses you, bites down on the fabric with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You ignore his absolute cheek in favor of exploring his skin instead. Ink was stark against his tanned skin, a road map of untold stories. You bring your mouth to them, tasting the secrets embedded in his tattoos. He flinches underneath you. You hear him moan as you drag your nails gently down his sides. You kiss up the middle of his chest, and move over to his collarbone. You drop feathery kisses that make him shudder. 
Your touch is light, teasing. Your mouth is a con artist, flapping its gums to sell him empty dreams. He wakes up from this false reality at the feel of your teeth under his collarbone. He bites down harder on his shirt, groaning. Drool wets the fabric and he closes his eyes as you continue to bite down his chest. You are ruthless. Your objective is clear as day to him. This is his punishment, he thinks with a muffled shout when you bite down on his nipple, once again leaving a mark on his skin; purple and red next to black ink. 
He had insulted you, pushed you down, and you rose like judge and jury. In his clouded thoughts, full of desire and pain, Renji thinks to himself that indeed, Justice was a woman.
His breath is ragged as you move further down to his ribcage. He tries to contain the shuddering, icy fingers of anticipation dragging beads of sweat on his skin. He tries to steady himself when he feels your teeth graze against his skin, but he is still not prepared for the onslaught. You bite along his rib cage, time and time again leaving a crescent shape of marks.
A moon of bites to match your bark. He laughs silently, shoulders shaking as he tries to contain it. He had already insulted you once, and was paying the price. He couldn’t think of what would happen next. Your hips start moving against him, and his head lolls, a moan dying in his throat. You are definitely wet enough now. He feels you soaking through his pants. His hips buck at the feel of your heat, at your teeth pinching the flesh over his belly button. 
He thinks he can take it. He thinks you’ve had enough of the torture but when you move to the side of his waist–he panics. He mumbles something but it isn’t fast enough. You bite down with a growl and his back arches, a shout that turns into a moan. His shirt soaks further with his spit, it now oozes down his chin and pools on the hollow of his neck.
You hear him mumbling, but choose not to listen. This was his own undoing, you think feverishly making up excuses as you bite under his belly button, once, twice; two marks just because. Your hands shake as they undo the buckle of his belt. It takes some effort but you manage.
“See?” you tell him, a tremble in your voice you despise makes you flush further. “You just don’t know what you’re doing,” you continue, rubbing your legs together. Slick slides down your inner thighs. It should embarrass you. You should feel shame at the way your pussy throbs, as if it was pleading to have him inside you. When you bring the zipper down, you’re taken aback, a small gasp leaves you before you can swallow it.
He chuckles at you, propping himself up by the elbows to watch you. He spits out the shirt from his mouth, but doesn’t bother to wipe his chin. “What now? Cat got your tongue?”
You look at him, and find it difficult to swallow. He had felt big, very big, when you were grinding your cunt against him but now that there was nothing but the fabric of his underwear between your eyes and his cock it became evident that you had underestimated his size.
You grit your teeth, and clench your jaw. You were no punk. This was nothing. You tell yourself this as you pull his pants down and he helps you, feeling charitable. Not that you deserve it, you think as you take in the sight of the marks left on his skin, growing darker and darker the more time flies by. He tosses his shirt and looks over at you as he sits up with amusement dancing behind his eyes. His smile is lecherous, and you notice how he grips the bed sheets tightly. Was he holding back? Was he laughing at you? You’re not sure. 
You soldier on, heart in your throat, and slide a tentative hand over the print of his cock. He looks heavy, and he feels heavy as you cup his balls. His eyes flutter close, a happy hum coursing through his body. You slide your hand over to feel his length, and you’re amazed at the girth. You were no petite girl, your hands were far from small. If you were to grip him, wholly, you had the feeling your fingers would not touch your thumb. 
“Scared?” he breathes out as he watches you grip his tip over his underwear. He blows his hair out of his face noisily. You hate how attractive that mere gesture was so you ignore him, and pull at the waistband of his boxer briefs. He tilts his head but concedes, lifting his hips so that you can pull them down. You dare not look until they’re over his ankles, until you toss them on the floor.
When you find the courage to look between his legs, you think you may have overestimated yourself. His cock is hard, a thick vein running and curling around his length. His balls looked as heavy as they felt. His tip, red, angry glistening with precum taunted you. Erect, it was flush against his belly, up to his belly button.
You can’t help it. You can’t help the hand that goes to your mouth. You can’t help your widening eyes, and the way your whole body freezes and burns at the same time. You definitely can’t help the feeling of growing wetter, hotter, the way your pussy clenches at nothing at the sight of him.
He is watching you with mild amusement, head tilted. He looks at you, lashes fluttering briefly. “That’s enough,” he says decisively. He takes action by grabbing your ankles. He pulls you towards him until you’re underneath him, caged in between his big arms. “I told you, didn’t I?” His breath is moist and warm against your cheek. He licks one, then the other. “I can’t be responsible for anything tonight. Your loss.”
His grip is strong on your hips as he flips you over, hands kneading your ass. You whimper, and grip the sheets on the bed. You think to protest, maybe ask him to go slow but you feel a sting that blooms into pleasure. You moan despite the embarrassment, feeling yourself get even wetter if it was at all possible. His hand grabs at your cunt possessively, and he rubs his fingers roughly over your underwear.
“There we go,” he says in a soft tone, encouraging, full of praise. “You know,” he begins, his tone playful, leaning down to bite up your back. You tremble under his assault, a moan following each sink of his teeth. “You might just be wet enough to take all of me. What do you think? Are you feeling greedy tonight?”
Your mouth goes dry. You open and close it, stammer like a fool, and he laughs again. You feel it against your ear when he leans down. His hands are on your ass again, rubbing circles. “I’m waiting,” he sings, licking the shell of your ear. 
“Uh–Well, I–” You begin and you feel your eyes water from shame. This was your undoing. You thought you were above it all. You thought you could be in control but even after everything, he somehow managed to get the upper hand. He chuckles darkly against your ear. His teeth bite down on your earlobe before he sucks on it. He releases it to mock you–to throw your stammering words back at you.
“You sound ridiculous,” he tells the crook of your neck. You feel him smiling there, as he pulls your asscheeks aside to rub his erection between them; up and down. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”
You take in a ragged breath. His hand is on your neck, and he squeezes thick fingers around it. “Yes,” you breath out between gasps, finding it deathly arousing to feel his thickness rubbing on your ass. 
You feel him move away, feel the bed creak. You dare to look over your shoulder, and watch him with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as he pumps his cock. His tongue is out, licking his bottom lip, eyes dark, lids heavy with barely controlled desire. 
“Show me,” he commands, his thick cock in his hand. He moves his hand slowly up his shaft as you falter. He watches you turn slowly on your back as he squeezes his tip. He bites back a moan, wanting to save it for later. His precum is smeared on his hand and he stills for a moment, as you lay on your back. You push the fabric of your thong to the side, exposing your puffy pussy. 
Renji draws a sharp breath, a hiss that turns into a low growl. He crawls over you, stealing away your breath and what's left of your senses. The sight of him is devastating. His broad shoulders make you feel prisoner to the heat between your bodies. He brushes his nose against yours, a terrifying form of intimacy that confuses you.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips.
He clashes against you, a feverish mouth that takes no prisoners. His hands are in your hair again, messing with your curls and you can’t be bothered to be upset at how he pulls at them, how he grips and curls them around his fingers. He kisses you until you feel like he can kiss you deeper than your mouth, past your throat and lungs. He kisses you until you think you can die from this act alone. When he comes up for air, he is gripping your wrists.
“Here,” he says, bringing them to your ankles as he helps fold your legs enough to reach. “Hold these.” 
You don’t think you have any right to refuse, or rather, any weapon to battle him with. The idea of having him inside you feels like a necessity that justified any risk. You hold your ankles as you whimper, feeling him adjust his fat tip around your entrance. He rubs it against your folds, and up your slit to your clit. A moan wafts out of your mouth, a wanton song past midnight. He snickers and he slaps your cunt with his cock.
“I think…” he drags his words, the same way he drags his tip down your pussy again, to push gently against your opening. Your eyes fly open from where you had shut them in anticipation. “I really think you’re a little…” He hums pensively, pushing his tip in, slowly. He pushes a bit more, and you back arches. He’s not even halfway but the width of him makes you feel so full you fear splitting in half. “A little too greedy for your own good.”
He finishes his words as he continues to push slowly inside you, inch by inch. You’re amazed at his sudden bout of gentle consideration just as you’re amazed at his size. You can’t help clenching around him, and you hear him curse under his breath. Your stomach contracts, forcing your body to make small jittery jolts as you cling to his biceps, nails digging so hard they leave half moon marks.
“Fuck!” he hisses. His teeth are white when you look up at him, gritting as he tries to keep control. “Hey,” he says softly, voice shaking. “If you keep that up. It won’t be good for you.”
“Shut up,” you tell him, unable to think of a clever retort. What you could only think of is the feel of his thick cock inside you, settling in too comfortably as if it belonged there. You move your hips tentatively, and your eyes close, a moan shaking your body. You hear his laugh again as he starts moving against you, slow and purposeful at first.
“God damn,” he hisses, again. You hate the way he clenches his jaw. The sight of teeth, canines a bit too sharp and long, had never been arousing to you until now. “Your pussy is greedy too, huh. You can barely take me in but you keep sucking me back in for more.”
You are far too gone to be embarrassed. You release your ankles, and wrap your legs around him instead. Surprise is evident in his face by the way his brows rise, the slight widening of his eyes. You loop your arms under his, to hold on to his shoulders. Your breathing is scalding against his chin, you kiss desperately up his jawline as he moves again–thrusting into you with renewed fervor.
“Just do it,” you say quickly, a voice that sounds desperately unhinged. “Just fuck me.” Your hands cling to him, and he scoops you up into his embrace. There is no apology, although he thought about it, as he angles his hips.
He pounds into you with more force than he needs to. He is aware of it when you cry out, when your nails pierce skin. He feels your fingers slip against his back, feels the heat of his blood smearing between his back and your palms. It isn’t enough to stop him, or guilt him. His eyes close at the feel of you, wet, tantalizing; completely erotic. He looks down at your face, the sight of your disheveled makeup–mascara smeared over a temple, lipstick leaving a purple tint on your chin. He loves it. He smiles at you even as he continues to fuck you. 
“You’re a fucking mess,” he says loudly as you moan, an orgasm flooding your body like riptide. 
You can’t think. You can barely breathe. All you know, and all you need is for him to keep going. The pain is worth it. Every time he pushes in, you feel as if he will kill you, split you, eviscerate you but the moment of pain and fear is quickly followed by a new kind of pleasure.
You moan into his neck, kissing and sucking as best as you can but your strength is not even enough for that. His movements become sloppy, rogue thrusts slamming into your hips hard enough to leave bruises the next day. He grips your thighs as if you had no feelings, hard and merciless. You whimper, reach down with one hand but he is gone before you can even touch him.
He pulls out, and you feel eerily empty. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he grabs a fistful of your hair. He pulls you up, forcing you on your knees. His cock is coated in your cum when he shoves it at your face. Eyes that can barely see, unfocused and hazy, take in the sight of his tip, the way Renji furiously pumps up and down his shaft.
You are not yourself, you think, as you open your mouth, tongue hanging out. 
He cums all over your mouth and face. You flinch as a drop hits your eye. You close them tightly, as he still cums some more, feel the heat of it sliding down your face. You hear his laugh as you kneel there, not daring to open your eyes.
“Stay there,” he orders you, and his footsteps fade. Your breathing is loud against your eyes. Your body feels heavy, achy and used. The footsteps come back, and you feel a cold wet rag on your face. He washes your face roughly, not an ounce of tenderness to the gesture. It surprises you then, when you open your eyes to see him smiling at you–a little softly, almost demurely. 
You have no words, and suddenly it feels awkward. Before you can say something you regret, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. Apprehensions disappear at the taste of his tongue, he kisses the corner of your mouth, taking your hands to clean them too.
“I was right,” he says, frowning down at the dried blood on your palms. “You are a fucking mess.”
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nrrrdgrrrl2002 · 8 months
Text
Taller
A batai lil bendy and Audrey short
“Audrey was trying to stay awake as her and bendy watched a cute little sitcom.
Bendy had a big ol smile as his eyes were glued to the screen. Audrey couldn’t really bother to pay attention after such a long day, only staying awake due to being spooked by bendys sudden squeaks of laughter.
She noticed on the screen a parent kneeling down as a child was lined up against a wall, standing straight. As the kid did so, the parent opened a marker and drew a line right above the kids head.
The child then moved away from the wall and jumped up and down in joy as they saw the newest line was higher up than a couple older marker lines.
She turned to see bendys vacant smile had turned into an expression of pure wonder and curiosity, his eyes still staring at the scene.
“Look daddy! I grew!” The child on the screen exclaimed. The father rubbed her hair lovingly. “You sure did sweetie. Why at this rate, you may even be taller than me when you grow up!” The father said.
She hasn’t noticed bendy had run off as she was starting to fall asleep again. Only to be jumped awake when she felt herself be shook.
She looked down and saw bendy shaking her arm with one hand, holding a marker with another.
“What is it, lil Buddy?” She asked, half asleep. Bendy pointed to the marker, then to the tv and then to a wall.
Oh.
“You want me to mark your height like on the tv?” She asked. Bendy nodded. “Sure. Why not?” She said as she rubbed his head before getting up.
Bendy leaned against the wall and stood straight. Audrey kneeled down to his level and marked the wall right above the top of his head, between his horns.
Bendy jumped away and took a look at the mark. He then pointed at Audrey and then at the wall.
“Do you wanna measure me next?” She asked. Bendy nodded. “Alright then” she said as she gave him the marker and got up.
She leaned against the wall and stood straight. She ended up letting out a laugh as she looked down and saw bendys puzzled and annoyed look.
“Cmon, bendy. I’m right here waiting for ya. Aren’t you gonna mark my height?” She teased. Bendy let out a “hmph!” As he crossed his arms and gave her a cute little mad expression.
He looked around and saw a barstool in the kitchen he could use. He ran to it and pushed it next to Audrey before climbing up on it.
He stood on it and reached over to mark right above Audrey’s head. “Oh, good job bud! You found a way to reach me!” She said as she rubbed his head.
He gave her an annoyed look, still mad at the teasing from earlier. He decided to get revenge by pulling the barstool he was sitting on and having a leg of it land on Audrey’s foot.
“OW! OH YOU LITTLE-“ Audrey shouted as bendy jumped off the stool and ran off, squeaking with laughter.
“Oh no! You get back here!” Audrey yelled as she chased after him. Bendy was still squeaking to himself as he tried to avoid Audrey’s grasp.
-
Audrey was working on some scenes at her desk in her bedroom. She figured taking her work home instead of staying at work late was better for lil bendy.
She felt bad leaving him alone so much. Yeah he was surprisingly self sufficient despite how young he was and he always seemed happy despite being alone so much. But…
Her thought process was stopped when she felt her shirt being tugged. She looked down and saw bendy was the culprit.
“Hi sthisth” he said. He had been doing really well when it came to learning to talk the over the past year, but he seemed to have a lisp that sometimes made it hard to understand what he was saying.
“What is it, bud?” She asked. Bendy pulled out a marker from his pocket and pointed to the hallway outside her room.
“Taller?” He said in his childlike voice. She wasn’t sure what he meant. “Can you show me what you mean?” She asked him.
Bendy nodded and grabbed her hand, yanking her out of her room and to the living room. He let go and pointed to the marks on the wall from months back.
“Ohh! You want me to mark your height again?” She asked. Bendy nodded excitedly.
“Oh. Umm. Sure thing” she said a little nervously.
She wasn’t gonna have to explain to him that he can’t grow like that… right?
“Alright lil Buddy. Line up” she said as she took the marker from him. Bendy went up against the wall and stood straight.
She marked the top of his head between his horns. “Alright bud” she started as he jumped to look.
“Now please don’t be upset if nothings changed. There’s nothing wrong with-“ she stopped as she saw bendy jumping for joy shouting “taller! Yay”.
She looked and saw that the mark she just made on the wall was a good inch above the older one.
That… that can’t be right…
“You weren’t standing on your tip toes, were you?” She asked. Bendy shook his head as he said “Nuh uh”.
Hmm.
“Lemme take another look” she said as she gently grabbed his shoulder and lined him against the wall. She made sure that his feet were planted on the ground as she marked his height again.
He moved away so they could both look. “Sthee?” He said as he pointed to it.
Audrey had a concerned face that confused bendy. She saw his confused look at her and realized her worry was showing.
“Wrong?” He asked. “Oh! No no! There’s nothing wrong, bud! I’m just… surprised. That’s all” she said.
Bendy still gave her a slightly sad look, not buying it. Audrey tried to think of something.
“Hey. I gotta finish up my work. Why don’t you go play in your room and we’ll watch tv later, ok?” She said.
Bendy nodded, still having a slightly sad look before running off to his room.
“Ugh” she muttered as she put a hand on her forehead.
Dammit, Audrey that was awful.
She thought to herself as she looked at the marking. Her mind started to wander as she thought to herself.
How did that happen?
It’s nothing Audrey.
You’re worrying too much.
She thought as she got up. But she just. Couldn’t help having a bad feeling…
Why was she so worried?”
End for now!
I may continue later but this is gettin long
7 notes · View notes
iwritewhump · 1 year
Text
Whispered Reassurances
year of whump 2023
characters: kier, ryker (ocs from this post)
warnings: android whump
719 words
next | masterpost
a/n: these characters will be the main ones for this challenge, but some of the prompts don’t fit with them so I’ll write those ones with other characters :)
~
Kier pushes into the small dwelling he calls a home and calls out to his roommate. 
“Hey Ryker! You forgot to lock the door…again.” he sets a bag on the ground under the barely functioning coat rack and sighs. “Do I need to update your memory or something? Because if I do, I have time tonight.” He walks further into the entryway and pokes his head past the kitchen doorway. “I made it to the thrift store and got some clothes that fit the vibe you said you wanted.” he frowns when he doesn’t see the droid standing over the stove. “Where are you?”
Kier hears a sigh from Ryker’s room and nods once to himself. “Did your legs lock up again? Just let me take them apart and fix them!” 
“My legs are not a wristwatch you can just take apart and try to fix.” Ryker shouts from her room. “And what happens when you get bored and just leave them on the workbench? Am I supposed to fix them myself?” 
Kier pokes his head into her room with a smile, “You could. It’s not illegal or anything.” he sets the bag from the thrift store on the ground and tilts his head. “Those are my clothes.”
She wrings her hands together and smoothes the pink shirt down nervously, “I was really tired of what you gave me so I went through some of your old ones. I hope you don’t mind. They’re just your ‘family’s in town’ clothes.” 
He shakes his head, “Yeah, no. It’s fine. But! That means to pay me back you’re gonna have to let me fix your legs. And also dye my wings tomorrow. They’re growing back faster, I swear.” 
“Whatever. Just…promise you’ll put me back together by tomorrow.” she says. “And let me borrow your computer while you do it?” 
He hums, picks her up and throws her over his shoulder, grunting with the effort. They slowly make their way to the kitchen and he sets her down next to the bar he’d fashioned into a workbench. She starts taking herself apart while he finds some of the tools he’ll need to fix her. 
“Alrighty,” he says, hands on his hips, “Ready?” 
“Forgetting something?” she asks. He tilts his head, shaking it slightly. She sighs, “The computer.” 
He snaps and points at her, “Right! I’ll be right back. Think you can move yourself to the bench?” 
Before she can respond, he’s running into his room and throwing things around in search of the computer. 
Ryker huffs and lifts herself off her legs and onto the workbench, moving her legs to lean against the wall. “I always told Ida it was a bad idea to let him get so much stuff.” 
“What was that?” 
“No-nothing. No, it was nothing.” she motions to the computer tucked under his arm, “Is that charged?” 
He nods and hands it to her before dragging her legs to his stool and leaning against the seat. 
He mutters softly to himself as he checks for any obvious issues. He gasps and picks up his tweezers before prodding them between tangled wires. 
Ryker looks up from the screen and smiles. Kier bites his tongue in concentration and she watches as he closes the tweezers around whatever he thought was the problem. 
“You’re doing great,” he whispers, mostly to himself. “Just a quick-there! Now pull it out.”  
“Ow!” Ryker gasps. 
Kier releases the tweezers and pulls his hands away instantly, looking at Ryker. “What’d I do?” 
She snickers and purses her lips. He huffs and puts his hands on his hips. 
“You fall for it everytime! I’m not ever going to stop.” she says, still laughing. 
“Asshole,” he says with a small smile. 
He takes the tweezers back in his hand and grabs the object again before pulling it out. He sets it on the bench and leans back. 
“Is that…” 
He nods. “I told you to be more careful when you bake.” 
She laughs and takes the walnut in her hand. “That was it? I honestly thought this was going to be a whole thing.” She tosses the walnut in the trash and closes the laptop. “Well, thanks.” 
He waves his hand and puts his tools back in the toolbox. “It was nothing. But you can put yourself back together.” 
3 notes · View notes
ch4nb4ng · 3 years
Text
Evil Roommate
Tumblr media
pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers
warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise
requested : yes!
word count 6.2k
summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.
“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”
The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.
“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”
“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”
Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.
“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”
“What the fuck is your problem?”
You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”
Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.
“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”
A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?
“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”
His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.
“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”
“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”
Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.
“Who the fuck said you could touch me?
“Did you just fucking slap me?”
“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”
“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”
You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”
“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”
Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.
“Can you get to the point please?”
“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”
A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.
“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”
Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.
You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.
Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.
“Y/n?”
Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.
“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.
“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”
The arm he had around her waist made you sick.
“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.
“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”
“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”
You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.
“Uh no thanks Y/N-”
“We should all hang out!”
The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.
“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”
“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.
“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”
You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling
“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”
You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.
“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”
The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.
“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”
“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.
Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.
“Hello?”
His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.
“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”
“What do you need me to do?”
You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.
“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?���
“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”
“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”
“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”
“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”
And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.
You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.
“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.
“Y/n what are you doing-”
“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?
Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.
“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.
“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”
She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.
“Let’s play a game!”
“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”
“I think that’s a great idea!”
You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.
“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”
***
Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.
“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”
Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.
“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”
“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”
“Yes you have.”
All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.
“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.
“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”
Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.
Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-
“Y/N? Y/N!”
The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.
“When?”
As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.
“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”
“I’m not saying it here in front of-”
“Who? Chaeyeon?”
Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.
“It was in the car.”
Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.
“The car?”
You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.
Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?
“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”
“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.
“Do you want this?”
“What?”
A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.
“I said, do you want this?”
“Do you?”
His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.
“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”
Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.
“Kiss me if you want me.”
He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.
“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”
You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.
“Fuck it.”
He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.
“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”
“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.
“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”
A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”
“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”
“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.
But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”
You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.
“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”
“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.
“Are you being serious right now?”
The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.
“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”
“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.
“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.
“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”
His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.
“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.
“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”
A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?
“Minho I’m-”
“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”
His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.
“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”
“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”
You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.
“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”
“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”
“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.
“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”
The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.
“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.
“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.
“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”
“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one
who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”
There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.
“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.
“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”
“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”
Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.
“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”
“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”
“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.
“Are you okay?”
You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.
“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”
Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.
“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.
“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.
“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”
The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.
Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.
“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.
“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”
It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.
“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”
“You wanna cum baby?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna cum right now?”
“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.
“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”
And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.
“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.
“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.
“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”
He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”
You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.
“Why don’t you find out and see?”
1K notes · View notes
dienamights · 3 years
Text
Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou
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» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.
» Word count: 6.7K
» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au
» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.
» Warning(s):  Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)
» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!
Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡
Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol
» Masterlist | Requests
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Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.
And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date. 
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“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.
“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.
“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.” 
“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.
You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to- 
You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.
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Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.
She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.
“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.
“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?” 
“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”
She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.
“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”
You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.
So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now. 
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You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.
“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.
“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her. 
Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-
Music?
You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week. 
The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.
So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.
“Welcome!”
“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”
“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.
Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No!  He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?
Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.
“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.” 
Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!
All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario. 
At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.
You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,” 
“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-” 
“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.
He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.
He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.
“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.” 
Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.
“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.
“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.
“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight. 
He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.
“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it. 
Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.
Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.
Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.
Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.
You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?
“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”
The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.
Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”
Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?” 
But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.
The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.
Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”
“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.
His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.
Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.
“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.
“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”
“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.
“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.
Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.
“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high. 
Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.
His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.
“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.
“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.
“Say you love me.”
You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.
“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.
“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.
You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.
You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.
“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”
“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.
You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.
Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.
His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a  shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.
Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.
He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly. 
Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you. 
“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.
“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.
“You better say you do too, becau-”
“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed. 
With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.
Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.
“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.
But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.
Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”
“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”
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aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least
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hotwings0203 · 3 years
Text
I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.
Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?
In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.
But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.
Or so he tells himself.
“Slut”
“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”
It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him
“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”
Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.
“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”
It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.
“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”
But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.
He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.
You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.
The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.
You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.
He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.
It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.
But then, he speaks.
“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”
His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.
“No.”
“Oh.”
This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.
Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.
“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.
He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.
A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.
You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.
It drives Dabi crazy.
He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.
But your silence is something he’s not used to.
Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.
You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.
You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.
So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.
“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”
Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.
“And Dabi?”
“What about him?”
She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”
“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”
“He likes you.”
You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.
“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”
The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.
“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”
You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.
“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”
“You’re joking.”
“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”
No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.
You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.
“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”
“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”
“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.
“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”
Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.
“Why not just tell him how you feel?”
You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”
“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”
And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.
You were fucked.
And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.
“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.
You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.
No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.
He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.
“After you.”
You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.
A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.
Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.
You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.
“So, what did you wanna talk about?”
He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.
“Dabi.”
“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”
He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.
You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned
“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“
“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”
In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.
But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.
So he does exactly what one does as a villain.
Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”
You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.
“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”
You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.
“Why?”
“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”
Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.
He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.
So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.
Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.
You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.
He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.
Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.
“Dabi, wait, please stop-“
But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.
“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”
He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .
Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.
But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.
You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.
And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .
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moon3thereal · 3 years
Note
I have a request with Nat x reader. It’s a party at the compound and nobody has ever seen Nat drunk but this night she was completely gone like blackout drunk. So you end up having to carry her to her room and take care of her but she accidentally admits her love for you, you end up sleeping on the armchair in the room and in the morning you wake up to a Nat that’s throwing up on the floor, at first she don’t remember shit but later during the day she remembered what she said and gets really flustered and embarrassed but it ends I fluff reader admits her love for Nat to
Title: Drunken Confessions
Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: alcohol
a/n: thank you for the request! happy reading <3
1.4k
Everyone knew Tony Stark loved the glamour of his extravagant parties often threw in the Avengers tower. Everyone also knew that while everyone else got batshit drunk, the black widow never got even slightly tipsy after several rounds of drinking games when everyone else was drunk enough to strip to their undergarments and start pole dancing. She always only watched with a hint of amusement glinting in her emerald eyes
That led to the bet going on amongst the other Avengers, Tony threw in a solid 500 dollars to whoever got Natasha drunk while the others put in smaller amounts. Thor had been lurking around with a smug grin for a whole 5 minutes since the party had started, you had no doubt that he’d been up to no good and opted not to touch the alcohol at the bar for tonight.
Spotting a certain redhead, you sidled up to the bar in your new dress that you definitely haven’t bought to impress her and new heels that again, you definitely didn’t buy to awe her. “Someone put in effort for tonight’s party” Natasha said, dropping her gaze to your heels and all the way up until she met your eyes “trying to impress someone?” she winked teasingly. Damn it, were you that obvious “Steve maybe?” she pressed, seating yourself on one of the rotatable, red leather stools you laughed “I don’t swing that way”
Natasha hummed in acknowledgement “me neither” she said. You turned to look at her so quickly that you thought you may have given yourself whiplash “Then…You and Bruce?” you asked cautiously “there’s a reason that didn’t work out” she said, taking a sip of her martini and sending her glass a peculiar look “you’re new?” she asked the bartender “no ma’am I’ve been working here for three years” Natasha’s lips formed into a silent ‘oh’ and you stifled a laugh
After a few more glasses of alcohol, Natasha was clearly very drunk, the rest of the avengers who hadn’t seen Thor’s expression of obvious smugness had drunk the alcohol unknowingly too and Tony and Steve were challenging each other to a dance off. In their boxers. You watched with amusement and second-hand embarrassment. Meanwhile, the Russian that was the heart of all this chaos was standing across the room apparently having an argument with Clint about whether the walls are green or red. The walls are white. Then it suddenly clicked in your mind, the only alcohol that could get her so shockingly drunk, Asgardian liquor
Of course, why hadn’t you thought about it before. Thor was incredibly competitive even if he didn’t look it. You continued sitting aside from all the havoc erupting on the party floor taking tentative sips from the water you’d brought, keeping an eye on Natasha before she does something stupid. Normally that was her job, unbeknownst to you, Natasha always looked out for you during Tony’s parties, knowing your alcohol tolerance wasn’t exactly high.
Glancing at the clock, you could see that it was almost 3 in the morning and the noises had died down and all the Avengers were splayed out on the couch only half awake, Natasha was half laid half seated on two bar stools barely keeping herself upright. Deciding that you really didn’t want her to fall off and give herself a concussion, you tugged at her sleeve “come on Nat, we’re going back to your bedroom” she smirked at you with her painted lips which were normally perfect but tonight, they were slightly smudged, you liked the look on her though
“Bedroom? Getting frisky already y/l/n?” you raised your eyebrows while helping her off the chair and draping your jacket around her shoulders “getting concerned about how drunk you are” you corrected. Natasha hummed and after a few steps let her head slump onto your shoulder, you were half supporting and half carrying her but you were glad she wasn’t sober right now because your heart was probably going a million miles a minute, her hair smelt so nice, her tresses were gently tickling your neck
Caught up in your thoughts you had to abruptly steer Natasha towards her bedroom before she walked directly into a wall. Practically dumping her onto the bed with a huff from the exertion of dragging her all the way back to her room, you pulled off her heels and hung up the jacket “I love y/n, don’t you think she’s just so pretty, she’s so smart too and how she fights, it’s soooo hot” she slurred and your cheeks heated up.
You were ready to dismiss it as a hallucination, you had feelings for the redhead, you’d been harboring them for a good 2 months because you thought they’d never be reciprocated. But Natasha turned to you “do you think she likes me too?” she asked “yeah, yeah I’m sure she does” you whispered. Natasha seemed to hear it, she sighed contentedly and let her eyes close. Making your way out of the room, you heard her say “stay” it was barely a whisper but you heard it and you could never refuse her
So you slumped onto her chair with your chin supported by the heel of your hand just appreciating how gorgeous she looked even blackout drunk, ginger hair all over the place and smudged makeup. It sounded creepy but you were really just taking the advantage of being able to stare at her now before she’s sober again tomorrow and your act of indifference had to come up again.
You didn’t know at what point you fell asleep but you woke up to Natasha rushing to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. Hastily pulling her hair back into a ponytail, you rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her. She glanced up at you when she was done and flushed the toilet “why are you here?” she asked while rinsing her mouth in the sink and holding a hand to her head while wincing. You tried to hide your disappointment, last night it was the alcohol speaking, not her, it didn’t even make sense that she would remember it, really. “you couldn’t stay on your feet on your own, let alone walk back to your room, I wanted to make sure you were okay so I slept in that armchair” you gestured to the armchair at the corner of her room
“You didn’t have to do that” she said “but I’m glad you did, thank you” sending you a tired smile. You squeezed her shoulder “I’m gonna go make some breakfast you want some?” you asked at her doorway “please” she said while removing the makeup from the night before. You nodded and made your way to the kitchen
Once you step foot in the kitchen, you saw Thor with a triumphant smile on his face and the rest of the Avengers grumbling, you slapped a 50 dollar note on the table, shaking your head amusedly as you passed by. Thor’s grin widened further as he stuffed the money into his pocket. There were pancakes in the pan, courtesy of Wanda most probably. You put two each on separate plates, slathering Nutella on yours and drizzling syrup on Natasha’s. you made some coffee and poured out two mugs
When you came back to the table, Natasha was already seated wearing a hoodie, one of yours you realized with a skip of your heartbeat, and sweatpants. Setting the plate and mug of coffee in front of her, you took a seat and dug in.
It was only in the afternoon when you and Natasha were working on reports that her cheeks suddenly went pink and she stared at you with an expression of mortification. You frowned at her sudden distress and walked over to her “what’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned. “last night, what I said, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn’t, I mean, I do feel that way, but if you don’t it’s completely understandable and I-” you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers, the feeling of her lips against yours was heavenly, they were soft and tasted like her vanilla and cherry chapstick.
“I love you too” you whispered slightly dazed from the fact that you’d just kissed Natasha and that she hadn’t pulled away “show me how much” she said and kissed you again.
Taglist: @phoenixofash @michelle-dsn @midgardianweasley
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reidgraygubler · 3 years
Text
just my type (spencer reid/reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Title: just my type 
Request: kinda, not really
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (daddy kink, loss of virginity (reader), praise, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, after sex cockwarming, groping, heavy petting, tipsy sex, innocence kink, hair pulling, crying during sex (but the VERY end)), dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, Professor!Reid, age gap, aftercare, swearing, drinking, making out in public places, incredibly brief mention of necrophilia, mentions of absent father, ooc!spencer, professor/student, brief mention of drinks being drugged (not actually happening)
Word Count: 8,194 
Summary: Reader sleeps with a man she met at the bar. The next day she finds out that man was her new professor, Spencer Reid...
A/N: this was writing for pom’s discord server fic swap! My partner doesn’t have tumblr, but their wattpad is babyleaf1! I took a few of her favorite tropes and prompts she likes and came up with this! It’s loosely based off the song campus by vampire weekend. Spencer and reader’s ages are undefined, but there is a gap between the two.  thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!
{***}{***}{***}
Going to the bar wasn’t exactly my scene. Sure, it was nice to kick back and have a drink after a long day. I’d rather be at home with a glass of wine and watching a movie. But when a friend I haven’t seen in a long time asks to go to the bar, I’m gonna go to the bar with her. 
My eyes scanned the crowded room, searching for my friend who was no doubt already drinking. The room was filled with drunk people. I didn’t expect so many people to be drinking on a Tuesday night… who am I to judge though? 
When I finally saw my friend, I rushed to her. She was sitting at the bar with a drink already in hand. I wondered how many drinks she had before I arrived.
The moment I appeared by her side, she let out an excited squeal before throwing her arms around my body.
“It’s so nice seeing you!” she squealed into my ears. I laughed as I carefully pushed her off my body, and tried to regain some personal space. “It’s been so long!” 
“Yeah, yeah. Been busy. School and stuff starts this week.” I nervously laughed as I sat down on the stool beside her. She leaned over the bar as she called for the bartender. 
“That’s right! School!” she exclaimed as she looked back at me. I looked away from the bartender and at my friend. “That’ll be fun!” she added, trying to sound excited, but epically failing. 
“I sure hope it’ll be fun…. But it’s hard to say. You know, college,” I chuckled and looked down at the counter. The bartender placed the two drinks on the counter, pushing them towards us. My eyes widened once I saw the brightness of the drink. The brightness of the liquid was unnatural. So of course I was going to drink it. What’s the worst that could happen?
A couple hours had passed and the conversations between us seemed to flow fluidly. I was thanking God that that was the case because I don’t think I could do awkward drinks. I like to think I was concentrating on her and her words pretty well.
And then he happened.
A man walked up to the bar and looked right at the bartender. He held up one finger as he sat down behind my friend. He had an exhausted look in his eyes, which were hidden behind shaggy brown hair. Suddenly my concentration was out the window and I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. My friend definitely noticed too, but thankfully she didn’t comment on it. 
Then he looked over at me, and I was met with honeyed hazel eyes. They were more intoxicating than my drink. A small smile grew on his lips when he realized he captured the attention from someone. 
I just assumed he would have gotten his drink and returned to wherever he was sitting. But I was so wrong. Maybe the bar counter was where he was sitting and he just got here...
“So… What’s your type?” my friend asked, looking over at me with a small smile on her lips. I struggled to look away from the attractive man sitting just behind her. It was a relief when his gaze dropped from mine when my friend asked the question. But a small smirk grew on his lips as he, and my friend, waited for my answer.
“I… I, uh,” I finally looked away from him and down at my drink. The two black stir straws leaned against the glass, and I realized that I should probably stop drinking soon. My face grew really hot, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the alcohol I had consumed, or the thought of telling my friend my type in men I’m interested in, or even worse… That the type of guy I’m interested in standing right behind her…
“C’mon, can’t be that bad… Unless you’re like… A necrophiliac,” she laughed as she leaned closer to my body. I moved away from her before looking back at the man behind her. He was looking back at me, an amused smile on his lips. “Well,” she asked, slipping closer to me. I locked eyes on the man before licking my lips lightly.
“Older…” I made sure to be loud enough that I knew he would hear. I watched as he choked on his drink before looking over at me. 
“Ooo! Girl,” my friend exclaimed as she moved closer to me, “How scandalous,” she whispered as she wrapped an arm around me, “How old are we talking?” she looked up at me. Her eyes were glossy, and I knew there was no winning this one. 
“Is this really a conversation we… we should be having?” I asked, my voice shaky as I spoke. She looked at me with wide eyes.
“We talkin’ old enough to be ya daddy… if ya know what I mean,” she mused as she began falling into my body. The man behind her looked over at me, his smile telling me he was clearly listening in to our conversation. And he obviously enjoyed what was happening in front of him. 
“Ye-No!” I cut myself off with a shout, “No! Not at all!” I continued, backing away from her body. I couldn’t tell if I was being serious or not, and something was telling me my friend and the man didn’t believe me either. “Wh-why are you suddenly…” I let my words trail off as my train of thought suddenly vanished.
“Because… You’re young, you’re single… And you’re… you know…” this time it was her words trailing off. I looked at her with wide eyes, my face getting hot again. “A virgin,” she said in a normal tone, even though I think she thought she was whispering. The man behind her choked on his drink again before slowly turning to face me and my friend.
“Will you shut up?” I whispered as I tore my eyes off the man and looked down at my friend. She sat back in her seat as she looked at me with a smile.  
“OH!” she shouted as she looked down at her drink. She slammed the rest of it in one go before standing up, “I have to pee! Stay here! If I’m not back in 10 minutes, assume I went off with that hot guy.” She slipped off her chair before pointing somewhere in the bar. I looked over my shoulder and at a group of guys who were closer to our age than the guy behind her.
“O-okay,” my words stumbled as I carefully pushed her body off mine. I held back my chuckle as she stumbled away from me and towards the bathroom. 
I turned back to the counter, my head dropping so I was looking at my drink. My fingers fiddled with the straws as I waited for my friend to return. The bright blue liquid sitting with ice wasn’t as good as it looked. Which was very unfortunate because I’ve had maybe two of them… Working on my third...
“Your friend… She’s rather excitable,” someone spoke from beside me. The seat my friend was once sitting in was now occupied by the man who sat beside her. I perked up and looked away from my drink. He was hunched over the bar, holding a small glass with an amber liquid. 
I didn’t realize I was staring at him till he cleared his throat and looked back at me. I jumped, looking down at the bar. I didn’t exactly know how to respond to him, words not coming from my mouth properly as I struggled to speak. So, I shrugged and stared at him.
“Y-yeah, yeah she’s like that… Especially when she’s drunk… She doesn’t know how to hold her booze,” I laughed as I lifted my drink to my lips. I searched for the two mixer straws with my mouth, closing my eyes before taking a sip. “Y-you didn’t hear anything she said,” I asked, my words slurring slightly from nervousness, "Did you?" I added as I leaned on the counter. The man looked at me with a raised eyebrow. 
“Uh, erm,” he looked back down at his drink, not directly answering my question. I sighed deeply as I planted my face into my hand, leaning against the bar. 
“She was being really loud,” I laughed as slowly slipped off my stool and into his body, “Oh, sorry.” I looked up at him as I held onto his arm, “I think I should stop drinking,” I laughed as I recollected myself and moved away from the stranger’s body. 
“It’s okay.” The man looked at me, helping me get back on my seat, “I’m going to get you water.” He looked between me and the bartender. 
“Listen, listen, yeah, whatever, like so what, I’m still a virgin… I just have my bar set way too high for men,” I started as I turned to face him, “I should lower that bar and my standards,” I mumbled as I leaned against the counter. The man looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. Why did I think my friend would be embarrassing to me when I can just do it myself?
“Definitely getting you water,” he laughed. After a moment of silence, the bartender placed two glasses of water on the counter in front of me and the stranger. The man looked over at me before pushing the glass closer to me. “Drink it, you’ll feel better,”  
“Is it safe, right? Like…” I let my words trail off, hoping he’d clue into my worries. He looked at me with raised brows, like what I had said was absurd that I would even suggest something like that.
“It’s safe… just water and ice,” he returned, his tone telling me he was mildly offended that I'd think he drugged water. But to be fair, he's a random stranger in the bar, talking to a girl who's had a few drinks.
“Thanks,” I muttered before lifting the glass to my lips. The icy coolness of the water hit my lips and tongue and I already felt a million times better. I couldn’t help but let out a pleased hum. 
“Spencer... by the way,” the man finally introduced himself to me. I swallowed roughly as I looked up at him. My eyebrows knit together as I stared at him, my words tumbling from my mouth as I introduced myself.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking around the semi-filled room of drunken adults. 
“After work drinks,” he spoke softly. He didn’t sound too enthused by after work drinks. Part of me wondered why that was… Maybe all his friends ditched him too. 
“Sounds boring,” I laughed as I looked back at him, “My friend wanted to get drinks… But she wanted to catch up and to… Well, just drink,” I sighed as I leaned my entire body against the counter, “As you can see, she ditched me… Like always,” I scoffed before looking over at where my friend actually was. She was standing beside the cute guy, leaning close to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d be gone with him the next time I looked over at her. 
“Maybe it’s your turn to leave her at the bar.” Spencer watched as I lifted the glass of water back to my mouth. I nearly spat water all over the place with his words.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked as I moved my chair closer to him. He seemed content with where I was sitting, and how close I was to him. To be honest, I wished I could be closer to him. 
“Could mean anything you wanted it to mean,” he replied with a shrug. I stared at him for a moment, slowly leaning closer to him, but not getting too close. 
“You’re right.” I smiled as I stared at him. He looked away from his drink and nodded. “Like going home before her to go to bed early.” I laughed. Spencer returned the laughter and shook his head. 
“If that’s what you want it to mean,” he smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shrugged.
“Nah, I don’t think I wanna go home yet,” I sighed, resting my head on my fist, and my elbow on the bar counter. We both stayed quiet for a moment, letting the silence carry our “conversation”.
“So… Older men…?” Spencer asked after the long silence. He looked down at me with a smug smile. I froze in my seat, my eyes on the glass of, now, ice in front of me. 
“You did hear that conversation,” I lazily laughed as I looked up at him. I couldn’t help but nibble lightly on my lower lip as I looked at him. “Nah…” I looked up at him, feeling a small smile grow on my lips. Spencer looked down at me with a raised eyebrow and a sly smirk. “Maybe… Possibly… Definitely older men…” My head fell back in laughter. Spencer kept his eyes on me and his smile grew more amused than smug. 
Spencer definitely met my standards in men. He seemed to be older than me, I wasn’t exactly willing to question that though. There was a certain… gentlemanly-ness to him that I infinitely enjoyed. He was definitely not like any other guy I’ve talked to. And he 100% wasn’t some 20-something-year-old guy who claims he has all the experience in the world but doesn’t. Spencer seemed very experienced, in what? Well, everything I guess. I could just sense it by the way he talked to me and the way he held himself.
“My last boyfriend was 10 years older than me, and the one before that was 7 years older…” I paused, staring at him. I wondered what he was thinking, and if he was thinking what everyone thinks… ‘This girl has totally got daddy issues.’ “I don’t have daddy issues,” I rolled my eyes as I gravitated closer to his body. I looked up at Spencer, my hand falling to rest on his thigh as I moved closer to him. His body tensed slightly at my touch. I felt a little bad at first, but when I went to move my hand, he stopped me. His hand reaching out to grab my wrist.
“Even if you did, I don’t think that would influence your taste in men.” He looked down at me. It was then did I realize just how close our faces were to each other. 
“That’s good to hear because most people just automatically assume that I have daddy issues,” I murmured as I looked between his lips and eyes, “Although… It’s just a lie… I tell myself that because people always say women with daddy issues are sluts… But I’m not…” I whispered as I slowly moved closer to him.
“I didn’t think that,” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, “And I’ve known you for all of 45 minutes,” he laughed as he removed his hand from my wrist.
“Good,” I laughed lightly. “Can I kiss you?” my voice was a murmur as I looked into his eyes. Spencer licked his lips before parting them slightly. He didn’t seem too shocked or taken aback by my proposition. But when he spoke he was a little… nervous.
“If… If that’s what you want,” he whispered as he looked at me. I took a deep breath, my hand resting on his leg shifting a bit as I moved closer to him. Spencer took a shaky breath as I looked up at him.
“Do you want it?” 
“I… I’d be lying if I said no, but I don’t want to take advantage of a woman under the influence,” 
“It’s what I want,” I leaned even closer, not even an inch between us. I could feel his breath through my nose, that’s how close we are. “And I’m not under the influence,” I spoke, losing my confidence with each word. It was also an obvious lie too. We both knew how many drinks I had. “I’ve had two glasses of water and a handful of bar nuts, and it’s been like an hour since my last drink. I’m okay,” I whispered as I leaned totally on him. 
Spencer looked down at me, his face still as his eyes examined my face. He slowly brought a hand up to my face, resting it gently under my chin. I smiled, feeling my face heat up again. When he squinted his eyes, I felt my heart rate spike. 
“Please,” I begged. The bar and world around me simply vanished as I became so involved with Spencer and everything about him. In that moment, I was obsessed with him. “Kiss me,”
Spencer let out a soft breath of air from his lips before pressing them to mine. If the cool water didn’t sober me up, this kiss sure did. But at the same time, it was so intoxicating. Sure I’ve kissed men before, but this time it was… Different. Something else was going to happen tonight, with Spencer. But I couldn’t exactly place what it was that was going to happen.
My free hand lifted from its place beside me and went to his head, my fingers getting tangled in his hair. My other hand stayed put on his thigh, my grip slowly hardening on his leg. I tried to be quiet as a moan came from me, but I obviously failed. Spencer moaned right back into my mouth. I suppose I was happy he didn’t have an issue with our volume. Thank God the music was loud enough to drown us out.
When I pulled away from him, I nearly fell into the bar. Thankfully Spencer looked at me, his hand going to my hip to keep me from crashing into the counter. I looked up at him, taking a deep breath to get my head clear. But it was hard when I went back to him, my arms wrapping around his neck as my lips crashed back into his. 
Spencer’s hands moved quickly over my back, resting on my hips, lower back. Anywhere he could reach, he would touch. He turned more to face me, allowing me to stand between his legs. 
“We… We should stop… Before one of us does something we’ll… We’ll regret,” he whispered softly. Spencer pressed his forehead to mine as he spoke. I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling quickly. 
“No… No, we shouldn’t.” I looked up at him, my hands getting knotted up in his hair again. Spencer looked at me, a certain softness on his face. “I think… You… You meet my standards, Spencer.” I blinked at him. 
Spencer quickly looked over at the bartender before fumbling for his wallet. I looked at him, watching him pull out more money than needed and shoving it in the bartender’s hands. He looked back at me, wrapping an arm around my waist and guiding me out. I smiled as Spencer dragged me out of the bar. 
For the first time ever, I was leaving the bar before my friend… And I didn’t care about her. 
Spencer looked back at me as we stepped outside and the semi-cool air of the night felt really good against my hot skin. Inside I almost couldn’t breathe, but outside it felt like it just came to me. It was so… refreshing.
I didn’t realize Spencer had called a taxi till he was pulling me to the vehicle. I looked up at him, blinking slowly as he pulled the car door open. Swallowing down the sudden excitement and fear mixture, I slid into the taxi before him.
 I wasn’t scared because I was having sex for the first time. No, I was scared that I was going home with a strange man. Anything could happen, honestly. What if he was a murderer? 
“Where to?” The taxi driver looked up in the rearview mirror at me and Spencer. I was the quickest to talk, giving him my address before Spencer could give his. 
Spencer glanced at me, watching as I nervously played with the hem of my dress. When I glanced at him, I noticed that he was turned to face me more, whereas I was still, facing the seat in front of me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft. I moved my head a little too fast as I looked at him. 
“Mm, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve never done something like this before, that’s all,” I whispered, looking at him as I bit my lower lip. Spencer nodded as he looked at me, watching as I shifted closer to him. 
“We don’t… We don’t have to…” Spencer started but stopped when I maneuvered to straddle his legs. He looked up at me as he carefully rested his hands on my hips. I swallowed roughly as I looked down at him. My hands pressed to his chest to hold myself upright, and my head occasionally hitting the roof of the taxi with every bump we went over.
“I know... I know we don’t have to do anything…” My heart slamming in my chest as I stared at him. I moved my hands from his chest to gently cup his face. His cheeks were stubbly, prickling at the palms of my hands as I held his face. With one final deep breath of air, I pressed my lips to his, this time a lot more passionately than before. 
Spencer pressed his lips down my face, and neck while his hands roamed my body. My hands stayed planted on his face, keeping me in place over his body. I was so into him just… touching me that I didn’t even realize his hand had slipped in the front of my dress. His fingers gently stroking the skin on my inner thigh.
My head fell to the side as he pressed his lips down my neck more before going towards my chest. A huff of air came from my lungs as I pushed my hands through his hair. 
“Uh… We’re, uh… at your destination…” The poor taxi driver spoke from his spot in the front. I moved Spencer’s head away from my body and I looked down at him. 
“You… you pay him.” I stared down at him, feeling a certain embarrassment grow in my stomach, and across my face. Spencer quickly fumbled for his wallet before pulling out more money than necessary and tossing it to the driver. After he shoved his wallet back into his pocket, he wrapped his arms around my waist before exiting the taxi. A squeal came from my mouth as he carried me out of the vehicle and towards my complex. 
“Spencer!” I screamed as my arms wrapped around his neck. A dizzying feeling took me over as a hard bulge pressed between my legs. I almost couldn’t hold back a moan.
 He laughed before putting his lips back on my neck, nipping lightly on the sensitive skin. And I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, almost a whimper. 
“Keys,” Spencer muttered into my neck. I took a deep breath, my chest pressing into his body more. 
“Unlocked,” I gasped as he nipped my neck again. He hummed as he opened the door and entered my home. He put my back down once we were inside, door shut and locked. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall towards my bedroom.
Spencer pushed the door shut and pressed me against it, pressing his lips to mine like I was the last woman on earth. His arms were propped up on either side of my head, blocking me between the door and his body. It’s a good thing I didn’t feel trapped because I otherwise wouldn’t have allowed that to happen.
My breathing picked up when he pressed his hips against me. A pit grew in my stomach, and I couldn’t tell if it was actually anxiety or excitement. I was willing to bet it was both. 
As the anxiety slowly melted away, a new feeling took over. A feeling of want and hunger. It was the type of feeling that could be satisfied by another person, or by my own doing. But, I knew I wanted it from Spencer. I needed it from Spencer. 
“I need to feel something,” I whimpered against his lips as he pinned me against the door, “Please, I need to feel you.” My leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer to me. I almost couldn’t breathe, my excitement getting the better of me. 
Spencer looked down at me, a hand slowly coming up to my face, resting gently on my cheek. My eyes blinked slowly as he examined my face. I wondered what he was thinking, and if they were good thoughts. I only wondered what he thought because of how he looked at me. His features were soft and gentle like he was a child holding a fluffy, white dandelion. But the way his eyes moved across my face… They were hungry. Unlike his soft facial features, his eyes wanted to destroy everything in sight… 
And I liked it. It should have scared me, right? A man looking at me like he was about to destroy my life… But the way he did it… I liked...
While he kept one hand on my face, his other hand was high on my upper thigh. His thumb carefully moving back and forth on the soft skin. I wonder if he knew how desperate I was beginning to feel. And he only fueled my desperation the further up his hand traveled.  
A sharp gasp fell from my mouth as his hand finally moved against my underwear. His fingers were gentle as they ghosted over me. I wondered if he could feel how aroused I was through my underwear. Probably, it was impossible to hide that…
The way his hands touched me and held me was weird. He was still gentle, but there was a certain hastiness to it that I noticed. Like he was trying to claim something that wasn’t his. 
“Please,” I whimpered as he trailed kisses down my neck. My chest began heaving as he began tracing his finger over my underwear. Okay, now he had to know how desperate I was. Spencer groaned once he pressed his lips back to mine. 
“You’re so wet, Princess,” he whispered as his hand on my face fell to my chin. Another gasp came from me at the pet name. He took the opportunity to pull on my lower lip with his teeth. “I’ve hardly done anything,” he moved his head away from me and smiled, “Hardly touched you at all.” 
I looked up at him, my lower lip pouted out slightly. It was hard to say what his next action was, but I heavily anticipated it. He smiled softly as his thumb pulled down my lower lip. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I yelped when he pushed my underwear to the side, and carefully slipped a finger between my folds. 
Spencer looked down at me with a pleased smile. It was clear to me that he enjoyed my struggle. I placed my hands on his arms to keep myself up. And even though my body was pressed against the door, and I braced myself against him, my knees still wanted to give out.
I’ve never had another person touch me like this before. My previous relationships didn’t last long enough for them to do something like this. And, I’ve never exactly had this feeling before. Well, let me rephrase that, I have felt this feeling before. I’ve never felt this way from another person. I’ve masturbated before, after all I’m lonely, not Catholic. But, the feeling happening because someone else is causing it. 
“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Spencer whispered as he slowly pressed a finger into me. I looked up at him and nodded as I pressed my lips together. “Use your words,” 
“Yes, it feels so good… s’good, Daddy,” I whimpered as I looked at him. I swear I saw the corner of his lips twitched slightly. Did my title for him do to him what it did to me? It was obvious he liked it. 
Spencer stared at me for a moment before harshly pressing his lips back to mine. It felt as if he was taking the breath right from my lungs with everything he was doing. His hand between my legs moved a little faster, my hips grinding down on him in reaction.
“Say it again,” he murmured against my lips. The way he moved his face caused our noses to squish together. My heart was slamming in my chest and I could hear it in my head. It felt like at any moment it’d break out of me. 
I softly yelped when he carefully inserted a second finger in me. His pace quickened slightly and I couldn’t concentrate on anything.  
A tension grew in the pit of my belly, and slowly grew as the seconds ticked by. I wasn’t sure how long I’d make it till the tension cracked. I wondered if Spencer sensed that too.
 I removed my hands from his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him closer to me. It was so hard to hold back the soft whimpers and moans I was feeling getting trapped in my throat. Although, Spencer seemed to enjoy my struggle.
It became more of a struggle the stronger the tension grew. It was close too. 
“Say it again.”
“I’m s’close, Daddy,” I whined, my head involuntarily falling to my shoulder. Spencer looked down at me before moving to press his lips to my neck. His lips attaching to the base of my throat before sucking gently on the sensitive skin. 
Again my body reacted by trying to get closer to him. The closer I got to him, the faster he went. I could tell that he was trying to bring me closer to the edge, to finish the moment. 
“Let go, it’s okay,” Spencer whispered. I swallowed roughly, my head falling forward onto his shoulder before my body slowly fell into his. It was hard not to stay quiet, my sounds getting louder as I finally finished. 
I stayed against his body, trying to recollect my breathing for a moment. Spencer rested a hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles on my shoulder. And after I had my moment, I stood back up, leaning against the door behind me.
Spencer looked back at me as he pulled his hand out from my underwear. He looked down at his hand, more specifically the two fingers he just had in me. I nearly lost my balance again when he put those exact fingers in his mouth. And it didn’t help at all when he moaned. 
“You did so good, Princess.” He looked at me with a soft smile. Part of me was worried that was all we were going to do. Sure it was nice, but that was that the end of it? 
He cupped my face again before pressing his lips back to mine. His arms were wrapped around my body before he led me towards my bed. But I didn’t realize we were going to my bed till the edge of it hit the back of my knees.
A breath of air was knocked from my lungs the second my back collided with my bed. I looked up at Spencer, watching as he fought to take his jacket off. But when he finally did get it off, he was back over my body, his lips on mine while his hands roamed my body. My fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and his hands were pushing up my dress. His touch was like wildfire across my body, and it felt near impossible to breathe.
“Please, Spencer,” I whimpered as his lips reattached to my neck. My eyes fluttered shut as he gently sucked a spot on the base of my neck. His hands pushed the top of my dress down, making it sit around my hips.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he spoke against my skin.
"You… I just need you…" 
It was really… strange. I had just met him not more than 2 hours ago… and I couldn't get enough of him. Even though I knew this would be the only time I'd ever see him, I never wanted the moment to end. I needed him more than I needed air, it felt like. I needed the night to last as long as possible.
Spencer looked down at me for a moment before getting off the bed. I had to hold back my laughter as he struggled to take his pants off. And after throwing his shirt to the ground, he was back over me, his body between my legs. My chest tightened, and at the same time, my heart sped. 
I tried not looking further than his neck. But it was so hard. Did I want to see what he looked like before anything happened? Or would it make me want to back out? 
I shouldn’t look...
“Will it hurt?” I brought my eyes to look up at him. I wasn’t exactly scared. I was more worried about it hurting than anything else, I think. I wanted this.
“Maybe for a moment, but not too long,” he whispered as he brushed his thumb over my cheekbone, “If it hurts too much we can stop… But you have to tell me,” he spoke so softly. 
“I can do that,” I whispered, keeping his eyes on him. My arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to my lips. His hips slowly started to lower towards my sex. That was when my breathing picked up, and my chest heaved slightly.
“It’s okay, you’re doing such a great job,” he whispered against my lips, “I got you.”
A soft wince came from my mouth when he carefully entered me. My fingers knotted in his hair, gently tugging it as he slowly kept going. I struggled to take a deep breath. My head fell back and my lips opened.
“Spencer,” I whined, finally allowing air to enter my lungs, “You’re so big,” I moaned as I pressed my head into my pillow. One of my arms fell from his body and landed on the bedding beside me. My hand gripped the bedding. 
“You’re doing a great job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he grasped my hand and held it. I looked up at him and nodded lightly. “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” I whispered and stared at him. After a moment, he carefully moved his hips, and soon after fell into a steady rhythm. 
“Please… Please don’t stop doing what you’re doing,” I gasped. I slowly ran my hands up his chest to his shoulders before wrapping my arms around his neck. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes half-closed as he stared. “It feels so good,” I whimpered as he started to slowly move his hips. 
My legs tensed for a moment when he bottomed out in me, and I could feel the wind being knocked out of me. Spencer looked down at me as he brought a hand to rest on my cheek.
Spencer grabbed my hand and moved it to rest against my belly. An unfamiliar bump hit my hand through my stomach and caused me to gasp and look up at him. Spencer smiled and nodded lightly.
“Do you feel how deep I am?” he whispered softly.
“You… You’re…” I took a deep breath as I stared at him. He pressed his lips back to mine. His movements hastened and he pulled his hand away from mine, moving it between us and to where our bodies met. A small whimper fell from my mouth, again, as he began rubbing a finger on the already sensitive bundle of nerves. “Daddy,” I whined as his hips quickened for a moment before faltering.
I cried out as an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout my body. Spencer moaned into my ear. My legs were wrapped around him, clinging to him as he rode out our highs together. And, as I came, I couldn’t help but moan out his name.
My chest was heaving as my breathing tried to catch up with the extreme movements I was just doing. I couldn’t move my legs off him. I wasn’t ready for him to leave me just yet.
“Don’t move…” I gasped, looking up at him, “Please, Daddy… stay inside me…” I cried as he began moving away from me. My hands gripped his arms, holding him above me. Spencer looked down at me, his eyes glued to the way I squirmed beneath him. There was such an intense gaze in his eyes as he looked at me, I wasn’t sure what to do. 
He lifted his hands and rested them on my cheeks. The way he held himself over me without actually crushing me was impressive. What was even more impressive was how he carefully pressed his hips back to mine.  
“It’s okay, I got you,” he whispered, brushing the apple of my cheek with his thumb. I stared at him, my chest quickly rising, only to fall just as fast. It felt hard to breathe, my body still feeling full with him. “You did such a good job, Princess,” he pressed his forehead to mine.
I didn’t even realize I was crying till Spencer’s thumb moved across my cheekbone. I looked up at him with wide eyes. 
“Are you okay?” Spencer whispered as he kept his eyes on my face.
“I’m good. I’m okay. I promise.” I wrinkled my nose and nodded. Spencer smiled softly and returned the nod. “I’m-I don’t know why I’m crying,” I laughed lightly before sniffling my nose, “I’m sorry.”
“Sex can be an emotional thing for some people. And since this was your first time, it was an emotional experience. You’re okay. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Spencer reassured. I stared at him and nodded, agreeing with what he said. “I’m going to get you water and a wipe or something.”
“Uhm… Yeah that’s okay… I guess. Bathroom is over there. I should have a cup in there. And there should be paper towels too.” I nodded as I gestured towards the bathroom. Spencer pecked my lips one last time before pulling away from me and leaving the bed.
‘It’s just a one-night stand,’ I kept telling myself just so I wouldn’t forget what this really was. And, in the morning, I’d never see him again.
{***}{***}{***}
My body jerked slightly when I woke up. An arm was wrapped around my middle, and the body that was connected to the arm was close to mine. Her head was resting on my chest, her ear right over my heart. She, and like my surroundings, were unfamiliar. 
“Crap,” I whispered, looking down at the girl and her sleeping form. She hummed as she nuzzled her head more into my chest. I pulled on my lower lips as I carefully pulled her arm off mine. I had to be quick as I slipped out of the bed.
Usually, I wasn’t the type to just sleep with someone and then leave them the next day. To have a one-night stand, if you will. If today wasn’t the sort of day it was, I’d stay with this girl till she woke. But I had to leave to get ready for a new semester at the college. 
I quickly grabbed my shirt and pants, throwing them on my body as I quietly and quickly left her apartment. My feet dragged quietly across the ground as I got closer to the front door. I pulled the door open at just the right time. Or maybe it was a bad time.
A young woman was standing with a carrier filled with coffee cups, her fist was lifted like she was about to knock. Our eyes locked before hers carefully looked down my body, lingering in spots that made me very aware. 
“Holy shit,” she stared at me with wide eyes, “She wasn’t joking when she said she likes older men,” she stated, the shock in her tone was so apparent that it left me in shock. It was her friend from last night.
“I-I’m sorry.” I looked at her with furrowed brows.
“You’re old enough to be her father,” she spoke before pushing past me. I turned as she entered the apartment. “She’s got balls of steel to fuck a guy like you,” she spoke as she set the carrier on the coffee table, “But, I’m happy she did… Hope her first time was good,” she chuckled before winking at me.
“I-I have to go,” I nodded before leaving. I pulled the door shut. I tried not to linger in front of her home for too long. She’d probably be awake soon, and I really didn’t want to stick behind. 
I kept my head low as I ventured on my walk of shame to the closest coffee shop. And then, from the coffee shop, I’d get a taxi to return home… To return to my home.
The second anyone finds out I had a one-night stand, I’m dead. I’m leaving. I could only hope it stayed between me and those two girls. 
{***}{***}{***}
I looked over at my coworker and nodded, only half paying attention to what they were saying. Which, in turn, made me feel bad. This morning is not my morning and there were only so many reasons why.
Then I looked across the grounds, looking at all the new and familiar faces returning for a new semester of classes. My eyes landed on a familiar girl walking beside a friend. She was laughing and smiling at whatever her friend said.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I stared at the girl. Then she looked up and saw me. An embarrassed look grew across her face as her gaze fell from mine. I kept my eyes on the girl across the campus for a moment longer, long enough to notice that the friend she was with had spilled coffee over her shirt.
“I have to go…” I grimaced as I looked at my colleague. They looked back at me before slowly nodded. I kept my head low as I walked back towards the building and towards my lecture hall. 
Thankfully I was the first and only person in the room. Enough time to prepare over everything. To free my mind of… of her and what we had done last night. But oh dear God, it was so hard. 
I thought I had a lot of time on my hands, seeing as the class didn’t start for 5 more minutes. I thought it was bad when I saw her across the campus. Then she entered my lecture hall, clearing her throat to get my attention. 
She introduced herself like I had no idea who I was. As if this was the first time we ever met. Maybe she forgot? But she definitely wasn’t drunk enough to forget. I wouldn’t have taken advantage of someone wasted as Luke or Derek would say. She was lucid, I know that much. Hell, she was able to give the taxi driver her address. 
“Spencer… Reid… Professor Reid is fine... Reid... Doctor Reid. I'll-I’ll answer to pretty much anything,” I rambled, feeling as if I couldn’t stop myself from talking. She looked at me with a knowing smile, and I wondered if she thought ‘Oh, I know you’ll answer to anything… Daddy,’ That’s probably a bad thing to think, right?
“Oh! It’s wonderful meeting you, Professor Reid,” she kept talking as if she didn’t know who I was. 
“Pleasure meeting… Meeting you too,” I paused with a forced smile at her, “Can’t wait to have you in my class.” I stared at her. The way she stared at me confirmed that she was pretending that she didn’t know me. I thanked God or whatever other Deity was out there that she was pretending. I don’t think I would have been able to survive if she acted like we knew each other. 
“Can’t wait to be in your class.” She nodded at me before going to the first seat in the front row. I stared at her for a prolonged moment, noting the way she crossed her legs at her ankle, and looked down at her notes. She held her pen between her thumb and forefinger, the end of it just barely between her lips. I couldn’t stop hating on myself for just leaving her this morning.
 Then I noticed she was staring back at me. She had a smug smile on her lips as she looked at me. It felt as if she was reading my mind as if she knew every thought that had passed my mind from the moment she entered my lecture hall.
‘Shit,’ I thought as the memories of last night forced themselves to the front of my head. All the things I said to her last night stood in the spotlight. The idiot part of me that said the stuff about impregnating her and how she kept calling me daddy stood out loud and clear. I broke this poor girl, and it was too late. And the worst part about it is… I’d do it again if I had the chance.
 My pants tightened and my face grew hot. How the fuck was I supposed to get through the day? Let alone this semester?! That’s the thing I wasn’t supposed to do. 
I was happy when the end of the class came. Everyone stayed in the room for a moment, bantering with each other for a moment before leaving.
I kept my eyes, and head, low as all the students filed out of the room. A few people stayed around to ask me their questions, or give me their comments. It was until the last standing student had exited the room did I realize someone was still at her desk. 
“Is there something-” ‘I can help you with,’
“Why’d you leave this morning?” she asked, standing up from her spot. I looked up and away from the paperwork I was “working” on. Swallowing down my own pride and unnecessary fears, I stood. My fingertips resting on top of my desk. “Woulda made you coffee… Breakfast even…” she whispered with a shrug. 
“Right…”
“You were hoping I was so drunk I forgot who you were, right? That’s what it is?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together as she spoke. I watched as she stepped around her desk and approached my own. “I thought… I don’t know what it’s like the morning after… But if that’s what it is… Then I don’t want it,” she scoffed as she stared at me. I didn’t mean to hurt her as much as I did. But it was already too late, and the damage was done. 
“That’s not what it’s like. I promise,” I whispered as I looked at her. I wasn’t prepared to make up excuses and lies as to why I just left. But I also don’t think she’d believe my truth either. 
“Then why did you leave,” she ask-No, she begged. Begged me for the truth. 
“I-I, uh, I had to leave because of this. I needed to get ready for this class,” I tapped down on the hard surface of my desk. Her eyes dropped down to the desktop. I could see the range of emotions on her face as she looked at all the papers scattered on my desk. Maybe she would believe me. Again, I don’t think I would have been able to come up with a believable lie.
“You could have woken me up, still… I seriously would have made you coffee,” she muttered before shrugging, again. 
“Next time then,” I swallowed roughly as I stared at her. Her eyes shot up from the desk and landed right on my face. I could tell she was trying to keep her sudden excitement hidden. But I knew she was excited because of the way the corner of her lip twitched up slightly, and the way she shifted her stance, and the way her grip on her books changed, and all the other things I could list off but won’t.
“Next time?” It was obvious she struggled to keep her voice low.  
“I mean, never say never, right?” I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. She looked at me with a smile as she hugged her books closer to her chest.
“Right… Never say never,” she whispered as she looked back down at the desk, “It was nice meeting you, Professor Reid,” she paused before looking up at me, a smug smile back on her lips, “And, it was nice seeing you again, Spencer,” she winked at me before walking out of my lecture hall. I swallowed roughly, staring at the space she once occupied. 
Fuck.
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luna-writes-stuff · 3 years
Note
Kili + ❛You’re interesting, and different, and I like that.❜ + A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards.
Little Thief, Kili Durin
I wasn’t exactly sure what else you wanted me to write about, so I kinda gave my own twist to it. I hope you like it!
Fanfic, gender neutral pronouns
Fluff, crack fic
Tw: A CHILD (not yours, sorry), cake heist, swear words (use of “shit”), child swearing, Established relationship?
Summary: Kili has finally been taken by the meetings. You grow bored and seek dessert after dinner. Upon finding a little dwarfling attempting to steal cake, you help him. Chaos ensues.
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It had been yet another boring day in Erebor. Kili had been off to meetings the entire day. He managed to outrun a lot of them for a very long time, but unfortunately, he had been dragged away by his brother this morning. You had been left by yourself to wander the often empty hallways, look after little dwarflings and oversee the loud forges.
It had not been until after the sun had set that you were finally off to do whatever you wanted. Yet Kili had still been busy. Lonely dinners had been rare for the two of you, but there were days there was no choice. Dis had joined you for an afternoon meal, but besides her, no others really joined. Dis had informed you that Thorin and the princes would be busy for a while and that she was not entirely sure when Kili would be dismissed.
After dinner, you wandered off to the kitchens, trying to find some form of dessert. However, as you walked in, the room had been empty. Only a young dwarfling had been vacating the room. He was standing on top of one of the kitchen surfaces, threatening to fall down any moment. He had not yet noticed you, but you ran towards him the moment he started wavering. Your hands steadily held his sides, spooking him momentarily.
“What are you doing here, little one?” You asked quietly, turning him around carefully, but leaving him standing on the surface.
“Nothing.” He answered almost too quickly. The space around his mouth had been decorated with molten chocolate and cake pieces. You were onto him immediately.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” You accused, sitting down on the surface next to him, simultaneously grabbing a wet cloth and tending to his face. His expression turned into one of guilt. He had obviously not been a great liar.
“Now you can stand here, pretending to be all innocent, or you can tell me where the cake is.” You teased, lightening his mood. His frown turned into a smile as his eyes crinkled along with them.
“She hid it up there!” He admitted, pointing towards the upper cupboard. You looked down at his now clean face and shot him a quick wink.
You had jumped off the surface, grabbing the nearest stool and settling it under the cupboard. The first thing you did was lower the kid down, making sure he was safe. As he stayed beside you, you ascended the stool, reaching for the cupboard.
Upon opening it, the smell of freshly baked pie reached your nose. In front of you was a relatively large cake, decorated with sprinkles of chocolate and cookies. Carefully, you grabbed the treasure, holding it down to the dwarfling, silently urging him to grab it and put it down for you. It had been as if he read your mind, because as his hands found the platform, he put it down with great focus.
Just then, the sound of footsteps nearing was heard. You looked at the little boy, who returned the same alarming expression.
“Grab that bowl!” You quietly yelled, pointing towards the huge bowl that had been put on top of the table. The dwarfling rushed towards it, granting you the time to get back down. You grabbed the platform that held the cake, before dumping it into the bowl the boy was holding. The state of the cake would be something to worry about later.
You took the bowl from his hands and supported it with one arm. With your free hand, you reached for his, ready to run away. The boy accepted your gesture and took off running too. A faint “get back here” was heard from behind you, but you ignored it, now rushing through the halls. They had been filled with different dwarves, indicating that the meeting had finally finished.
But you had no more thought for that. All that was important for now was getting the cake to safety.
You held onto the dwarfling’s hand tight, not planning on losing him in the crowded space. Speed had been a difficulty now, so you did your best to manoeuvre through the crowd. A few questions were dropped about the cake and when it was being served, but you ignored their calls. The cake was yours. Well, yours and the boy’s.
“Y/N?” You heard Fili’s voice call out. You risked a quick glance over your shoulder and saw his confused face, the familiar mop of his brother’s hair not far behind.
“Shit.” You silently mumbled, now taking off quicker.
“Shit?” You heard the little boy wonder. Your eyes widened, though your pace did not fade.
“No, don’t say that. That’s a bad word.” You scolded, pulling him along.
“But you just said it.” He defended, his breath labored, but still he managed to keep up with you.
“It’s a bad word. Don’t say it again.” You nearly pleaded, turning around the corner. “Shit.” The boy challenged.
“Don’t say it or no more cake for you.” You threatened, though it no longer took him aback.
“I found the cake first.” Upon those words, you thought a while, simultaneously trying to find your way to your chambers too.
“Thin ice, sir.” You finally concluded.
As the crowds began to lessen, so did your certainty of reaching your chambers. These halls did no longer seem familiar, not even as you had wandered through them the entire day. Still, you did not want to upset the boy, so you kept on running. Until you eventually ended up in a dead end. You slowly came to a hold, the dwarfling stopping too. Behind you, the footsteps were still heard.
“Maybe we should just return the cake.” The boy sighed, defeated.
“No, don’t do that! I’m your accomplice now!” You shot back, turning back around.
“If we run fast enough, we can still make it.” You assured, but the boy looked at the floor in defeat.
“I’m tired of running.” He admitted, his eyes now lingering on yours. You nearly felt bad for him, but now cake was on the line and the footsteps were right around the corner.
“I can carry you. We must protect our cake.” You offered, kneeling down and offering your back to him. Just as the boy was about to step on, a figure appeared in the hallway.
“What are you two doing?” A familiar voice called.
The dwarfling quickly stepped in front of you, trying to protect both you and the cake. Or at least, that had been your train of thought.
“We stole a cake but we are running for so long and I’m tired, but please don’t tell amad.” The dwarfling said hurriedly. “She made me do it!” He ended, pointing towards you.
“Traitor!” You yelped, standing back up. Kili frowned at you as he neared the boy. He shot him a silent smile before approaching the bowl in your hand.
“You were gonna eat it without me, weren’t you?” He accused, looking back at you.
“Obviously. You eat cake as if it is the last thing keeping you alive.” You retorted, holding the bowl behind your back.
“I do not!” He defended, scoffing slightly.
“Yes, you do! Ask literally anyone!” You spoke as a matter of fact.
Another pair of footsteps suddenly approached, alerting all three of you.
“What do we do?” You asked the boy, ignoring Kili completely, shielding the cake from his eyes.
“Prince Kili can distract the cook.” The dwarfling concluded, hopping onto the back you offered to him again.
“You’re using me as decoy?” Kili gasped, looking at the boy in confusion.
“You’d make a good decoy.” You mumbled quietly, making sure the boy was secured on your back.
“I’m not sacrificing my last bit of dignity!” The prince tried, though he knew it was forfeit.
“Be our decoy or you don’t get cake.” The boy argued, causing you to let out a small chuckle. Kili send you a warning glare, but you just poked out your tongue at his disappointment.
“Fine.” Kili concluded, nodding at the dwarfling on your back.
“We’ll meet in our chambers. Don’t tell anyone.” You warned.
“Cross my heart.” He spoke truthfully, walking up to you and planting a quick kiss on your lips. A loud ‘ew’ was heard from behind you, but you just laughed at him.
As Kili disappeared around the corner, you waited to ensure the safety of you, the cake and the dwarfling. There was no other opportunity than to turn around and cross the hall on the other side of you, but the cook would see you. You would have to depend on Kili.
And as that thought crossed your mind, a loud crash was heard. You heard the cook swear and run the other direction. Whatever Kili had done, it had worked.
As you ran through the halls, familiarity finally started to hit again. You knew there halls. You were only two more halls away from your chambers. Turn after turn, you made sure no one saw you. Even the kindest dwarves could betray your position. No offense to Balin.
But as you finally reached your chambers, you all but kicked the door open, dropping the child from your back immediately.
“You took your sweet time.” You heard Kili say, who had already been seated in front of the hearth. A small scratch decorated his cheek, but beside that, he seemed fine.
“What did you do?” You asked, handing the bowl to the dwarfling, who was on his way to the carpet next to Kili.
“Being a decoy.” He spoke through a wink, standing up and walking towards you.
“What was that crash we heard earlier?” You questioned, holding his chin in one hand, turning his head so to inspect his cheek.
“I bumped into one of the candle holders. Nearly lit my hair on fire. Thankfully, it only scraped my face.” He stated as if it was nothing.
“You are the most reckless person I’ve ever met.” You mumbled, wiping the blood of with your sleeve.
“Thank you. My mom tells me every day.” Kili returned proudly.
“You’re interesting, Kili.” You admitted, letting go of his face. “And different.”
“Different?” He wondered, not sure what you meant by that.
“I like it, don’t worry.” You reassured, now grabbing his hands, squeezing them in comfort.
“So are you, darling. You stole cake from the royal cook. That is quite the accomplishment.” He praised, running his thumbs over the top of your hands.
“Learned it from the best.” You said, smiling up at him.
Before either of you knew it, Kili’s face loomed closer to yours, his breath fanning your face. Yet, something seemed to stop him.
“Still asking for permission?” You mumbled, though you did not necessarily found it a bad thing.
“Always am.” He whispered back.
Instead of giving him a verbal reply, one of your hands let go of his, instead culling his cheek and bringing his face closer to yours, finally uniting your lips. Even after all these years of being together, you did not miss the weightless feeling the kiss brought to your stomach. Your heartbeat could be felt from your throat, but it brought nothing but comfort.
Slowly, Kili let his free hand rest on the small of your back as his other one let go of your hand and held your biceps instead. Your free hand quickly found his neck, as if it had been natural. As Kili pulled you closer, you let yourself rest in his arms, letting the adrenaline of the chase fall down. All that mattered right now was Kili at your side. How he held you and how he managed to always return these way too familiar butterflies.
As the two of you broke apart, your forehead rested on his, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes had still been closed, not yet ready to come face to face with reality again.
“I love you.” Kili mumbled out of nowhere.
You smiled at his sudden words, before giving him a quick kiss in assurance.
“I love you too.” You returned, opening your eyes and looking into his.
“I love cake.” The dwarfling interrupted, his mouth filled with the earlier caught cake. Both your and Kili’s eyes widened at the sight of it.
“It’s not just for you!” You accused, dropping down beside the boy and grabbing a piece of the ruined cake yourself. Kili quickly sat down beside you, one hand winding itself around your waist, as his other reached for the cake too.
“This is great cake!” Kili spoke, his voice muffled through the full mouth.
“And completely ours!” The dwarfling returned happily.
“You know, there is another big meeting tomorrow I can sneak out of. Maybe there will be more cake.” Kili hinted, reaching for a next part.
The dwarfling gave no other response but a knowing smile and nod.
“Cake is good.” You said, catching onto his meaning. “Too good to leave for the rest of the guests.”
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dokifluffs · 3 years
Text
Free! as Dads | Rin, Sosuke, Makoto
Pairings: Rin X Reader (gender neutral though not really mentioned), Reader isn’t mentioned in Sosuke’s, and Makoto X Reader (gender neutral)
Genre: fluffy domestic swimmer dads 
Author’s Note: free! needs more appreciation ✨
Free! as Dads | Haru, Ikuya, Natsuya
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RIn: gif from @makeusfreefromthisfandom​
Inches of snow blanketed the streets, sidewalks, and houses, and the inches would only grow for the rest of the day and tomorrow
“Bunbun, it’s time to wake up, baby,” Rin softly whispered as he leaned down, hovering above his two year old daughter’s sleepy face
Her face poured and contorted, her eyes squeezing shut even more as she was pulled from her peaceful sleep by her father as he would be home while you were away
The bed was so dwarfed whenever he stood or sat by it to wake her but it was adorable as she was
Her red hair matching his, bright eyes matching his too
“Bunbun,” said once again as she brought her hands to her eyes, rubbing them before peeking them open to her father
“I’m still here,” he teased. “Come on, let’s get you ready for the day.” He effortlessly scooped her up and helped her brush her teeth, wash her face, and get dressed
And now it was time for hair, a part he wasn’t too confident himself in
Her hair was so soft and light, it was short down to her shoulders
She sat still on her stool as he stood behind her, a hair tie in between his teeth as he gently brushed it, stalling so he could think what he could do
“Why’d you set the bar so high, Y/N?” He thought to you, thinking about how you always beautifully did your daughter’s hair
Little buns, braids, cute hair clips
But then it hit him with what he could do
He gathered the hair on the crown of her head into a single little pigtail
“Do you like it, bun? I can’t do it as well as mommy does but it’s still something.” He looked at her reflection as she tiredly looked through the mirror too
“You too, daddy.” She adorably tilted her head, pointing up to her dad’s hair that was loosely down
“Me? Want us to match?”
“Yeah!” She nodded happily, her little teeth adorable as her eyes turned into thin lines
And Rin did just that
He gathered his hair up with his little girl sitting on the counter before him, his body blocking the edge so there was no chance for her to fall
She clung onto his shirt, her smile only growing bigger and bigger the closer his hair was getting to matching hers
“Now we’re the same!” She cheered, giggly as can be as she reached up to him as Rin leaned down and scooped her into his arms
“Hm,” he hummed. “Now we really are papa and baby shark,” he bounced her playfully as they descended down the stairs, her small hands clinging to his shirt
And for the rest of the day, as Rin trained from home, the occasional smile broke out when he saw his daughter as she played in the corner
Seeing the little pigtail that matched the one he wore on his head
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Sosuke: gif from @makeusfreefromthisfandom​. Also, based on this tik tok sound
The little bedroom was illuminated out of the darkness, the automatic little night lights shutting off now that the bedroom light was switched on
Sosuke towered over all the small furniture in the cream colored bedroom, matching the rest of the aesthetic you had designed the house with, as he carried his little girl in her little charcoal gray onesie with faint white stripes
She latched her short arms around Sosuke’s neck, her hands clinging to the back of his white tshirt and her whale shark plushie, dark blue plaid pajama pants with black slippers on his feet
He bent over the miniature bed frame, moving his arms from below her body, to take hold of her sides
“Time for bed now,” his voice was tender with love as he set her body down to lay in bed but she still clung to him, some non-verbal whines coming from her as she refused to let go of her dad
“D/N, time to sleep,” a low chuckle escaping him as he rubbed her back, giving her small pats until she loosened her grip, setting Sosuke free
Her cheeks were puffed and eyes wide and glistening as she looked up to him, her hands that once hung to his shirt now clung to her blanket and blankie
“What’s wrong, hm?” He tucked her in, resting his arms over her covers as she looked at him as he knelt beside her bed, looking into her teal eyes that matched his own yet all she did was sniffle, staring back to her father as if he could read her mind
“Don’t cry, there’s nothing to cry about,” he soothed his little girl, holding the side of her head, leaning close to press a kiss to her head as he stood up
“Okay, daddy’s gonna leave now,” he hummed as he walked away, switching off the lights, the cool touch of metal on his hand but just before the door shut, he heard her voice
“Cuddle me,” she cried out, her little voice sounding off her walls as she made little grabby hands towards her father
“What?” He opened the door again, the light from the hallway pooling into the bedroom
“Cuddle!” her voice sounded and face looked so sad in his eyes, it actually broke his heart to see his little girl so distraught
“You wanna cuddle?” He stepped into the room, tilting his head in amusement as she crawled out of bed, kneeling on her bed, arms reaching toward her father as he approached her
“Yeah,” a hot tear cascaded down her cheek as she closed her arms around his neck, nuzzling close in the safety and comfort of his embrace
The biggest smile broke on Sosuke’s face as he sat in the miniature bed, doing his best to lay in it despite the sheer size difference but his daughter was happy and that was all that mattered
“Okay,” he chuckled low, chest rumbling as she laid draped over his abdomen, her hands once again holding onto his shirt as she rubbed her back
Sosuke held his little whale shark close as she laid on his chest, her little back rising and falling with every breath as she slowly began to sleep soundly against her father’s chest
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Makoto: 
“Good morning, babies,” your voice quiet as your little one year old son and daughter unsteadidly held onto the side of the crib, their olive brown hair messy and dissolved from sleep
They reached up, cooing at you to be picked up. After doing so, you changed them and brought them back to your bedroom where Makoto remained
You sat on the corner of the bed, careful not to wake him from the shifting of the bed as he slept soundly
The two babies reacted as soon as they saw their papa fast asleep and began crawling toward the big man fast asleep laid on his stomach, his arms buried beneath the pillows, his face and hair smothered into the comfy thing
Your son sat right beside Makoto’s sleeping face, reaching his little hand forward as he sucked on his pacifier, petting makoto’s face while your daughter worked on climbing onto his broad back she pulled on his shirt, doing the best she could but alas, couldn’t make it as she slid back down his side
Makoto stirred in his sleep until he jolted a bit to the side towards the edge, waking up from the sudden weight of his daughter, startling him
“Oh, it’s just you guys,” he sighed relieved
His heart pounded in his chest as he thought he was being attacked by some kind of monster, a sick nightmare turned reality but fortunately, he was wrong
“Morning, buddy,” Makoto smiled, his son’s eyes pulling into lines as he smiled with his pacifier in his mouth. “And morning to you princess. What’re you doing?” He asked
“She was trying to climb onto your back but couldn’t make it.”
“Aw, princess,” Makoto cooed as he turned onto his back, scooping up his little girl
He sat her on his stomach as she held onto his fingers
“Is this what you wanted?” He asked to which she happily giggled before laying herself down onto her father’s broad chest, hiding her face into his shirt
Your son seemed to not want to be left out as he attempted to crawl on too, whining a bit
“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you,” makoto laughed a bit. “There’s plenty of room for the two of you.”
He did the same and sat his son on his abdomen, adoring them, seeing how messy their bed head hair was
Taking in the view of your family, your heart swelled twice the size but the sight also made you laugh as you looked at all three of them collectively
“What is it?” Makoto sat up a bit more, spooning his babies in his arms against him
“The three of you have bed head,” you laughed as you rolled into bed
This morning was so nice, you wish it never ended so you could stay in this precious moment with your babies and Makoto
~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!
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certifiedskywalker · 3 years
Text
Breathing Room - Bucky Barnes
Thanks to Sharon’s new profession, you have a chance to catch your breath in Madripoor. Though, Bucky never fails at stealing it away.
WARNINGS: drinking (?) and tensiooooonnn
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“I’ve never seen him look at anyone like how he looks at you. Except for Steve.”
“It’s not like that,” you persisted as you shook your head.
Ready to prove your counterpoint, you traced the path of Sharon’s pointed gaze. It landed on Bucky who, amidst the party of stiff art connoisseurs and writhing criminals, looked strangely at ease. When you let your gaze linger, you saw him shift against the far wall he was leaned on. His eyes found yours in an instant as if he had been glancing in your direction before. As if he already knew where you were stood.
Under the colored lights that seemed to flash in tune with the music, Bucky’s eyes, once bright and blue, were dark as he focused on you. Despite the heat of all those that danced, you found yourself frozen. A chill rolled up your spine and threatened to overtake you, thrust you in the depths of Bucky’s stare. Only the sound of a knowing, humming sigh freed you.
“Uh-huh, sure. It’s not like that,” Sharon echoed sarcastically. You glared at her as she moved out from behind the bar. She passed a glass of dark liquor over to you with a grin. Gently, you nudged the drink back across the counter and shook your head.
“I’m on a mission.”
“So is he,” Sharon quipped as she tipped her head towards Bucky. Steaming embarrassment rose along your skin as you glanced back over towards the super-soldier. He was no longer fixed on you. He instead squinted at Zemo as the Baron broke it down in the most awkward, display of dance you had ever seen.
“Yeah, and I’m not it.”
“You are, you just won’t admit it,” Sharon sipped at her drink before she continued. “The way he watches you...he’s ready to take a bullet for you.”
“He already has,” you sighed, gesturing to your left arm. “Vibranium, remember? He’s covered me more than once.”
“Couldn’t forget it.”
“Also, he stares at everyone.”
Sharon scoffed, a light laugh slipping from her lips. “Sure, but not like that.”
“Do you really think...he’s hard to read. I don’t know if he really means to…”
“You’re right, he might not mean to look at you like you’re his lifeline, but it doesn’t change the fact that he does.” Sharon downed the rest of her drink and rested the empty glass on the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on a mission too: to sell some art and information.”
With a wink, she sauntered away, towards a group of individuals clad in formal wear. You watched her go for a moment longer before you shifted your gaze to sneak a glance at Bucky. When you did, you found he was already looking at you, dark eyes fixed on your face. It was tough to tell in the red tones that shone down on him, but you thought you saw Bucky’s mouth quirk the slightest bit upward. Though, you did not stare long enough to see if it morphed into a full-fledged smile.
You were too aware of how your chest tightened to let yourself linger on him. Especially with Sharon’s teasing, her insights, you could not find it in yourself to stare back. Not then, not when there was a chance Bucky felt the same as you had for years, which meant both of you were too stubborn, or too wary, to say anything about it. Even the thought of it knocked the air from your lungs. You eyed the liquor Sharon had poured out for you, considered downing it to distract yourself from the new wave of nerves that washed over you. Before you stretched your fingers out towards the glass, a sudden warmth brushed against your left shoulder.
“You gonna drink that?”
You turned and saw Bucky, his side nearly pressed against yours. The scent of the cologne Sharon had forcibly sprayed on him before the party filled your nose. Fragrant balsam and clove: warm, welcoming, and enough to numb your racing thoughts. When you didn’t respond to his question, Bucky leaned in closer to you with furrowed brows.
“Y/N?” Up close, you noticed just how clear his eyes were, how wholly focused on you he was. Silently you hoped he didn’t detect the shuddering breath you took.
“Yeah,” you said as tipped your head towards the drink, “it’s all yours.”
Bucky nodded at you as he reached for the glass. As he moved, his gaze remained fixed on you and you could not tear your eyes away. The moment the lights flashed an almost natural white, you swore you saw hints of pink on Bucky’s cheeks; but before you could truly tell, the fixtures flickered between blue and red. As Bucky brought the glass to his lips, you forced your eyes to the granite countertop.
To busy your mind, distract yourself from the lure of Bucky’s presence, you traced your fingertips along some of the natural patterns on the stone’s smoothed surface. It was only when you heard the clinking of glass against the countertop over the music that you felt enough courage to face the man stood at your side. Bucky’s eyes were still trained on you when you looked back up at him, full of that same attention Sharon had noted earlier.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink before,” you remarked, “or relaxed.”
“I’m not relaxed,” Bucky said, shouting slightly to be heard over the music. You smiled as he leaned in closer to add, “I don’t think I’ve ever been. Not since….”
“The forties?”
Bucky averted his eyes from you at your teasing question and turned his gaze to the floor. “Well, yeah, honestly.”
The smallness of his voice made your heart ache. Without a moment’s thought, you reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. At your touch, Bucky met your eyes again, and then you saw it. It must have been the glint that Sharon picked up on before. A ferocity, but not one that frightened you. It was a ferocity born of passion, the same, deeply rooted feeling that forced the air from your lungs when you let yourself stare at Bucky for too long.
The passion that you had kept bottled in your chest since you met him, the real Bucky, not the Winter Soldier. It had taken so long for you to truly see him and he was just finally seeing himself. Until the party and Sharon’s observations, you hadn’t realized that maybe he was seeing you too. How long had you been blind to each other, giving each other breathing room when all you wanted was to be close?
“Honestly, I think you look good,” you said, with a confidence that surprised you.
Bucky cocked his head to the side slightly, with the faintest hints of a smile on his lips. “Really? I don’t...it’s been...I haven’t been to a party since the forties. I haven’t danced…”
“You look great, Bucky,” you pressed as you let your hand fall from his shoulder. Bucky blinked at you a few times as if trying to compute your compliments. You gave him a soft smile, an expression that he, shockingly, returned.
“So do you, Y/N.”
The way he said your name sent another chilling shiver down your spine and tightened your chest. Your breath grew ragged and you became suddenly self-conscious about the volume of your breathing. Though, when you noticed how Bucky’s chest rose and fell a bit more rapidly than before, your worries faded. They melted into the music and the smell of his, Sharon’s, cologne until all you felt was warmth and light.
“Do you want to danc-”
Before Bucky could ask his question in full, a drunken party-goer knocked into your back and sent you leaning off your stool. As you tipped forward into him, Bucky opened his arms to catch you. The cool metal of his left arm dug into your waist as your hands braced against his chest. Once you found your footing, you glanced up at Bucky.
“Are you alright?” His eyes scanned over your face as he asked. Yet, all you really heard was Sharon’s voice: he’s ready to take a bullet for you. Ready to fight for you too.
“I’m fine.”
Despite your assertion, Bucky looked past you and towards the person that had nearly knocked you over. For a moment, you saw the man that Zemo had ordered around in the Power Broker’s bar. He wasn’t your Bucky. The passion had turned to anger in his eyes. Quickly, you trailed your hands up from his chest to cup the sides of his face.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” you forced Bucky’s face to turn until his eyes found yours. “I’m fine. Are you fine?”
Bucky didn’t respond. Instead, he just stared down at you, his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again. Gently, you rubbed the pads of your thumbs along the peaks of his cheekbones. At the contact, eyes glinted and you knew he was the Bucky you loved again. The scruff that lined his jaw and grew up the sides of his face prickled and tickled the skin of your palm as he drew in closer.
Suddenly, there was no more breathing room; but you were so wonderfully okay with that. Each breath you each took mingled between you until there was no space at all. Bucky’s lips brushed softly against yours, a tentative ask for permission before you closed the gap. He tasted like whiskey as you kissed and, when his arms tightened around your waist, you felt that you might drown in him.
You were prepared to do just that when you heard someone loudly clear their throat. With a small gasp for air, you and Bucky parted and turned your attention away from the other. Sam, clad in Sharon’s spare turtle neck, stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing grin on his lips. Your hands slipped from Bucky’s face and the super soldier’s arms went a little more slack around your waist.
“So, if you two are done, Sharon found Nagel.”
“Y-yeah,” you stammered, “we’ll...follow you.”
Sam glanced at you then Bucky and back again. “You really gotta work on your timing. We’re on a mission, guys. Seriously.”
Before you or Bucky could comment, Sam started off towards Zemo and Sharon. You glanced up at Bucky who seemingly sensed your eyes and looked back at you.
“He’s not wrong.”
“Don’t tell him that.”
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