#it might feel good to just come home and flop onto the floor and shove the suitcases aside but is that like hour or so of rest worth

[icewindandboringhorror]

is this actually that uncommon? I don’t even unpack just the DAY I return from somewhere, but it’s literally the first thing I do. I do nothing else until I’m unpacked, I have everything organized back in it’s proper place in the house within an hour of getting home lol.. I thought this was typical??? What’s the cultural norm?

[buckyalpine]

Edit to add: thought it saved with tw, non con, dark winter soldier

I wanna fuck the beefy winter soldier who uses me like a sex doll, just a hole to fuck. I want him to shove it in whenever he wants, fully focused on pleasuring his dick and nothing else. He’s chasing that pleasure at the tip of his pink cock that feels so good, grunting and groaning, wide touch hands holding you down in place.

Imagine he comes to finish a mission, breaking into a large mansion in the middle of the night only to find no ones home except the sweet little maid, still dressed in her tiny uniform, finishing up in the master bedroom.

You freeze on the spot, ready to beg him to spare your life as he shut the door behind him, swiftly locking it. He's programed to kill but you're evoking something new inside him. He feels pressure between his legs, his cock aching with need, a new desperate desire he needs to quench.

You know that scene with the red henley, his thick, muscular body throwing others around with 0 effort. I want that but with no clothes on. Clothes make his body feel too hot. He takes it all off when he stalks over to you, rock hard cock bobbing between his legs when he grabs and throws you over his shoulder. He might as well be an animal, precum dripping from the head down to the floor from your smell alone.

He’s absolutely unhinged.

Hasn’t had an orgasm in years.

Nearly nonverbal as he gets ready to take what he wants.

Your heart races, too scared to cry while he shoves your legs apart, groaning at your sweet scent. He tears your clothes off with his bare hands before experimentally pumping his cock, moaning at the bit of relief it gives him.

He needs more.

"P-Please-please no-Oh God!" You cry out as he shoves his cock in with one swift motion, pounding you with no remorse, grunting and panting, inhaling the scent of your perfect and something distinctly you as he snarls against your neck.

It feels so good, the serum in his veins making his cock swell with each thrust, thick drops of precum already marking you from the inside. His sole focus is to get rid of the achy feeling in his dick by using you, wanting to stop the heavy feeling in his balls. They're too heavy, too swollen, too full, it fucking hurts and your cunt feels so good, wrapped around his cock.

He moans louder with each thrust, pleasure licking up his spine, your needy little squeals just adding to how good it all feels. He loves the sting of your nails scratching down his arms, your tight pussy quivering and fluttering around him.

He sits back on his heels to watch the sight of his cock going in and out, your sensitive button throbbing between your legs. He gives it a flick, fucking you harder when he realizes touching you there makes you scream. He flicks and rubs at it wildly, loving how much tighter you get when he does that.

He gives you no warning when he pulls out and manhandles you till your face is pushed into the mattress with your ass high in the air, his cock reaching a much deeper angle in this position. He grabs onto your hips with both hands and slams you to meet the sharp snap of his hips, muttering something in a language you don't understand.

You can tell he's close, feeling him harden further inside you, his pace starting to falter. He's panting harder, head thrown back feeling that release get closer and closer. He gives you a final harsh thrust before burring himself in as deep as he could go, letting out a deep guttural moan as he starts to spill into you, his hot cum pouring out endlessly.

He wants to stop but he can't, waves of pleasure continuing to wash over him each time he thinks he's almost done, letting your body go limp while he flops on top and practically ruts and humps himself until he's finally soft and spent. He pulls out, searing the sight of his seed dripping out to memory before throwing his clothes back on. The empty feeling makes you whimper.

"moya khoroshaya devochka" [my good girl] he murmurs before leaving, already deciding he's ready to go rogue just to add this location to his list of places to revisit.

-

This wasn't meant to be part of the story but imagine he does come back to take what he wants and you let him. A few weeks later you feel insanely nauseous, throwing up every time you eat, exhausted and constantly wanting to nap.

When he sneaks in again, your scent in different and he knows. You're confused when he doesn't ravish you. Instead he wordlessly puts his hand on your belly. You look at him with confusion, especially when he picks you up softly and puts you to bed instead, keeping his hand back on your tummy.

"nash malysh" [our baby] he says softly and slowly, hoping you'd understand. Of course you quickly piece it together, only snapping out of your shock feeling his cold metal hand cup your cheek.

He makes love to you that night.

He's not sure why. He knows he has to be gentle with you. He should end you, end this mess before it goes any further but its too late. He's soft and slow. He holds you close and moves with such care, giving you deep thrusts with the roll of his hips. He lets his hands lace with yours, pinning you against the bed, squeezing them comfortingly as if to let you know he's not going anywhere.

He knows he doesn't have a lot of time. You'll be showing soon.

He'll figure something out.

Idk why tf I can't just write fics with the winter soldier where he fucks and leaves. It always ends with some stupid fluff which I didn't intend to add.

[thewritingisconsumingme]

sharing food

summary: kenshi visits kung lao

warnings: suggestive at the end :)

Kenshi breathed in the fresh air of Fengjian, the only sound being the rolling of the suitcase and Raiden’s voice. It was a much needed change of pace from the smoggy air of Los Angeles. He had flown into China a few days ago and taken a cab straight from the airport, but now he was exhausted and in much need of a nap and some good food. Raiden met him at the outskirts of their village, and they caught up as they walked along the unpaved roads underneath the sweltering sun until they both appeared in front of Kung Lao’s house. Raiden pat Kenshi’s back, told him good luck and to not worry, and left to go back to the White Lotus Academy to train the initiates. Kenshi and Raiden had been planning the surprise for a few days now, and Raiden had ensured that Kung Lao would take a break from work today so that Kenshi could show up and surprise him, take him out to dinner, woo him, and then confess his feelings.

Kenshi wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and raised his fist to knock on the door. Rapping three times on the door, Kenshi shoved his hand back into pant pocket and tried to look as nonchalant as possible when he heard Kung Lao open the door.

“Kenshi?! What are you doing here?” Kung Lao sounded very much surprised, and Kenshi could imagine how his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“Surprise?” Kenshi smiled but internally smacked himself for saying such a cheesy line.

“Oh my god! Let me get your suitcase! Come in! Come in! Shoes off though.”

Kenshi just laughed at the comment and reached his hand out. Kung Lao took it and led the swordsman inside his home. Kenshi could hear Kung Lao kicking around some things on the floor to try and make a clearer path for the swordsman to walk around the home, and Kenshi could feel Kung Lao’s head grow warm and sweaty as though he was embarrassed.

“Sorry about the mess. Um, here, wait on the couch, I’ll bring something for you to eat. You must be starving!” Kung Lao led Kenshi to the couch, throwing something from the couch onto the floor, and made sure that the swordsman had sat down before sprinting over to the kitchen. Kenshi listened to Kung Lao running about the kitchen, opening and slamming the fridge door before opening it again because he forgot something in there. The swordsman breathed in the scent of Kung Lao’s home: it was an earthy smell with a small hint of something spicy. Kenshi couldn't stop himself from smiling. He had missed being around Kung Lao.

“Here, some fruit.” Kung Lao placed a hefty bowl into Kenshi’s lap and the swordsman raised an eyebrow at how large the bowl seemed. “So…why’re you here?”

Kenshi felt the other flop down right next to him and blushed when he felt their thighs squish against each other.

“Sorry, it’s a loveseat. Didn’t think I needed a bigger couch since I’m living alone.” Kung Lao explained, reaching into the fruit bowl in Kenshi’s lap and munching on something crisp. Kenshi gathered his thoughts, trying to ignore how his side was pressed flush against Kung Lao’s and how he could feel the definition of Kung Lao’s muscles through his thin shirt. It didn’t help that the two of them were quite large, and the loveseat was quite small.

“I got some time off and thought that I might come and visit you.” Kenshi replied, feeling around the food bowl and identifying slices of apples, slices of mandarins, and some grapes in the bowl. Kenshi popped a grape into his mouth to try and calm himself a bit more when he felt Kung Lao shift and put his arm on the back of the couch, his arm grazing the back of Kenshi’s neck.

“Oh! I mean- I’m glad you came to me, but, uh, why not Raiden? He’s got a…cleaner home.” Kung Lao’s voice dropped off at the end, and he shifted in his seat a bit uncomfortably.

“I wanted to see you.” Kenshi answered, hoping that the comment would placate Kung Lao and that his face didn’t betray his racing heart. The other man was silent, and Kenshi munched on an apple slice, hoping that the silence meant that Kung Lao was just a bit dumbstruck and not grossed-out.

“I was hoping to take you to Madam Bo’s?” Kenshi mumbled out the question, trying to fill in the silence of the room, but when Kung Lao didn’t answer, Kenshi felt his stomach drop. The swordsman passed the fruit bowl into Kung Lao’s lap and stood up.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll just-” Kenshi reached for his cane and suitcase, intent on leaving and booking a ticket to go back to LA and drown himself in alcohol.

“Wait, wait! I’d love to go to Madam Bo’s with you! I mean-yeah, of course, why wouldn’t you want to come to Madam Bo’s with me? I’m just that cool, and um…yeah.” Kung Lao gripped onto Kenshi’s wrist and tugged him back onto the couch. Kenshi slowly sat down, a heat spreading across his face as Kung Lao pushed the fruit bowl back into Kenshi’s lap and leaned into the swordsman’s warmth.

Kenshi gripped the bowl tightly in his hands, grounding himself back into reality as the realization that he just scored a date with Kung Lao settled into his head. His mind felt buzzed, as if he had just drank a few shots, and Kenshi fully believed that if he wanted to, he could fly.

“So, um. I’ll take it that means you like me too?” Kung Lao asked in a meek voice. It was so quiet that Kenshi almost missed it. Too? Kung Lao liked him back? Forget flying, Kenshi could ascend to heaven right now.

Without answering, Kenshi turned to face Kung Lao. He placed his hand onto Kung Lao’s chest and felt the Shaolin’s heart pound underneath his fingertips. Gaining confidence when he heard Kung Lao’s breath hitch, Kenshi trailed his fingers up to trace Kung Lao’s neck and then cupped his face. The swordsman leaned in a little bit, a silent ask for permission. Kung Lao closed the distance, his hand flying up to cusp the back of Kenshi’s neck and bring them closer together. Kenshi’s heart was ablaze, like a fire burning in his chest. Kung Lao tasted sweet, like an oasis in the middle of a desert or the best pastry in the world. The Shaolin’s hands were holding onto the swordsman roughly, but his lips were soft and inviting. Kenshi could live like this forever, oxygen be damned. He deepened the kiss and brought his other hand up to hold Kung Lao in his arms.

Distantly, Kenshi heard something clatter to the floor and ignored it, but Kung Lao pulled away at the sound, Kenshi still leant forward to try and chase Kung Lao’s plush lips. He heard a shriek come from the man.

“The fruit!” Kung Lao immediately jumped from Kenshi’s lap, and the swordsman immediately missed the warmth. He could hear Kung Lao pick up the fruit on the ground, before running off to the kitchen and turning on the faucet, presumably washing the fruit of the dust of the ground. Kenshi leaned back onto the couch, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyelids as he tried to calm his beating heart. If it beat any faster, he was going to have a heart attack. 

Kung Lao cleaned the fruit and the floor like a mad man, but when Kung Lao was done. Kenshi felt the Shaolin settle into Kenshi’s lap, the swordsman’s hands going to Kung Lao’s waist instinctually. He squeezed at Kung Lao’s waist, still amazed at how slim it was, and Kung Lao yelped, slapping at the swordsman’s chest.

“Don’t do that…please.” Kung Lao weakly protested, but Kenshi had heard the small whimper that had escaped the Shaolin. The swordsmans smiled wickedly and squeezed Kung Lao’s waist again, causing him to let out a small whine and grind down onto Kenshi’s lap.

“How about we skip Madam Bo’s and go straight to dessert?” Kenshi pulled down Kung Lao’s head for another kiss, and the Shaolin melted into the swordsman’s lap.

When Kung Lao came into the academy the next day, his hand interlaced with Kenshi’s and walking a bit funny, Raiden just smiled and clapped Kung Lao on his back.

[chifuyuzu]

leap of faith — sano manjiro x reader.

word count — 1.3k.

genre — fluff fluff fluff, i love sweet mikey.

contains — cursing, timeskip SPOILERS present, reader is gender neutral.

description — sano manjiro is in love with you, and he realizes how much he loves you at the ass crack of fuckin' dawn.

author's note — hey besties, this is my first published fic here, kinda short but mikey brain rot is heavy. i hope you enjoy this cute fic before i rip your hearts out with some angst in a few days :^) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! and please give me feedback in my inbox! hehe, enjoy.

“it’s late.”

you know. but you still wanted to hear the sound of his voice before bed.

“mm… i missed ya’, is that a crime?” your voice echos through the receiver, the sound of your duvet crinkling in the background as you shift in place. sano manjiro was a busy man. always has been, always will be. being the leader of a biker gang was never easy—let alone some “new age” criminal organization.

you didn’t understand why manjiro persisted to play this game of russian roulette with his life. but it was never your place to overstep, especially since this was his life. it was all he knew, all he understood. you’re not sure what he’s doing, or if he’s even allowed to talk on the phone at this hour, but you still wanted to hear him. just so you know he’s alive and well.

you hear him chuckle, the sound of his feet scurrying against whatever floor his sandals were clacking against. the background noise that accompanied him earlier has dissipated; you realized he probably went outside to hear you better.

“your crime is loving a fool like me way too much. don’t think you’re sane.” he’s right. you’re actually crazy for even pursuing him. there was a lot of push and shove in the beginning, both parties scared of being hurt and getting hurt. but you were always there, even when manjiro went through whatever darkness was eating at his soul.

“crazy for you.”

“corny.”

“you love me.”

a pause. eerie enough to send shivers down your spine. why wasn’t he responding? did something happen? did you smother him too much? is he regretting—

“marry me.”

… not what you were expecting. especially not over the phone.

“sano manjiro, did you just propose over the phone? what kind of shitty rom-com are we in?”

“is that a no?”

“... never said that.” you wanted to marry him. but you wanted him to put that lifestyle behind, for the sake of the family you might have in the future. kids, dogs, cats, etcetera. you wanted him to be in, one hundred percent. but you knew he was too deep into this world to run now—especially since he’s so well-known as the ‘invincible mikey.’ you still longed for a happy home with manjiro, and a normal life.

“maybe you’re right. it’s not my style to ask you this over the phone.”

“try again later. when you’re really ready.”

the gag is, he is ready.

manjiro hurries home, blond locks hidden underneath a thin, black hoodie. he’s shaking, like a pomeranian in the presence of fireworks. his hand meets the left side of his chest, back pressed up against the grey colored wall of your shared apartment as he slides down to sit on the floor. it was four in the morning, and manjiro was about to shit himself.

he gulps, eyes peering around for you, double checking that you were fast asleep before he makes a phone call. his fingers tapped the back of his iphone, impatiently waiting for the other caller to answer. though it was the crack of dawn, he still needed some moral support.

“mikey? fuck you callin’ for at this hour? haven’t heard from you in mo—”

“ken-chin. i’m proposing.”

a loud ‘flop’ rang through the receiver, accompanied by the bedsheets seemingly slipping underneath draken’s feet. it was a huge bomb to drop, especially when the duo has been separated for months on end. manjiro hears more shuffling, followed by a few curses. “you’re fucking lying. the one you’ve been one since—?”

“yeah. i’m crazy as hell. but i love them. head over heels. i’m a goddamn simp.”

“why the hell am i the first to know, man?”

“you’re m’best friend, even if i need to stay away from you. and, also… you’re not the first to know. i asked them already.”

“you WHAT? don’t fuckin’ tell me you did it some dumb way like over the pho— you did. you’re impulsive enough to do it like that, too.” regardless of how long it’s been, draken still knows and understands manjiro like nothing ever happened.

“yeah… not romantic. but i can’t see myself with anyone else. i trust no one else. but i… am…”

“scared? man, you’re the head of a criminal organization. ‘course you’re scared. you don’t want the love of your life… to get hurt…” his voice trails off and manjiro’s heart tenses even more. the memories of the past still felt fresh. all the people they lost in tokyo manji… could never be replaced. not in a million years.

but the living must live.

“i love y/n. never felt like this before. i’d quit everything. but i would have to make sure they’re safe and whatever future we have together is secure. i know i promised takemichi that i’d protect everyone and that future he worked so hard to save… but what about mine?”

manjiro really did sacrifice everything for his friends. being the type of person who carries everyone else’s burdens takes a toll on his mental. he felt selfish for wanting to leave it all behind. but maybe being selfish was beneficial once in a while.

“listen—”

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“mikey. you’re not stupid,” draken sighs, shuffling again in place. “you just want to love someone and be loved in return. nothin’ stupid about that. what is stupid though, is you proposing over the damn phone.”

he’s not wrong. it was a spur of the moment decision that could drastically change his life forever. but with you, he doesn’t care. as long as you’re his, forever.

“how do you think i should do it?”

“well. i guess, tell me some sappy shit. how do you feel about them, and whatnot.”

“i don’t think i could ever imagine me with anyone else. a lot of people have tried to grab my attention but i only have eyes for y/n. sometimes when shit gets real hard…” manjiro takes a deep sigh, fingers threading through his hair, tilting back the hood to let it fall onto his back. “i think of y/n and i remember that even in this shit world, someone is here for me. someone cares about me. they make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.

i have dreams ‘bout us, y’know? me and y/n… kids running around. a little mikey clone. pissin’ them off because we want little flags on our meals. going to the park and letting kids be kids. maybe i’ll teach ‘em at a dojo like gramps did for me and my siblings. maybe i’ll teach ‘em about bikes—with your help, of course.”

draken laughs, letting his friend continue his little speech as he gets comfortable in bed again. don’t think i’ve ever seen mikey like this, ever, draken muses.

“man, we can own a whole zoo if we wanted. chifuyu could hook us up, in secret, of course. still have to protect everyone,” manjiro is grinning from ear to ear, head resting against the wall. “i wanna grow old with them. honestly, i didn’t think i’d make it to my twenties. more so, i didn’t want to live past twenty-something. but now… things are different. wanna be old and gray. see grandkids terrorize our children. die together.”

the tension in manjiro’s chest has faded away, only left with warmth that only you could bring him. his free hand reaches into his pocket to fumble with a small box, snapping it open to reveal the engagement ring his grandfather handed down to him.

he wasn’t the marrying type. but for you, he was.

“that all? you sound good like that, man. make an exception and let us come to the wedding.”

manjiro wants that more than anything. his friends, you... all safe. all happy. but again, the fear creeps up. he doesn’t know what to do with himself if any of you get hurt.

“... how do i tell y/n that?”

“you already have.” your voice makes him jump, knocking the velvet box out of his fingers and onto the hardwood floor. his face pales, followed by a huge lump forming at his throat when he sees your figure emerge from your shared bedroom.

“i-uh… i thought you were a-asleep.” manjiro mumbles, earning a huge laugh from draken on the other side. he hears him say something along the lines of ‘my cue to leave. good luck. send me an invite.’

“i was waiting for you.” 

he’s sweating now, a small bead forming at the base of his neck. his phone is now at his side, the screen flashing from draken’s caller id to the lockscreen photo of you on your first date together, a few years back. your eyes zone into the box, though.

“i was going to do this… better. god, i fucked up, huh?”

you’re laughing now, rubbing your tired eyes before you join him near the wall, picking up the box. “what makes you think that, dummy?”

now he’s confused. you wanted him to ask when he was serious, but in his head, serious meant rose petals, candles, someone singing celine dion in the distance.

without a word, you slip the ring onto its appropriate finger, holding up to the small rays of sunlight that peaked through the window from the approaching sunrise. manjiro’s hands fly up to your face, holding his whole world in his hands. his eyes are shiny, on the brink of tears. you nudge your noses together, foreheads connecting tenderly. your hands hooked onto the hem of his hoodie, bringing his frame closer as you whisper a soft ‘yes.’

“yes?”

“yes, i’ll marry you.”

manjiro’s lips curl up into the silliest grin you’ve ever seen him sport, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. now he’s kissing you quite desperately. as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream. you feel his words vibrate against your lips, “gonna make you so happy, i promise. i love you. i love you so, so much.”

“forevermore.”

“forever yours.”

[waka-chan-out]

Just Once

Hanamaki Takahiro x fem!reader

non-canonical timeskip.

word count: 3.5k

content warnings: makki’s pov. honestly this is pretty much just friends to lovers fluff with some healthy smut thrown in at the end. technically unprotected sex but no attention is called to it.

based on this request

Makki was sure you didn’t even realize you were half asleep, so when he shoved your shoulder you nearly jumped across the room.

“What the hell?” you yelped. He laughed and stood.

“Not on my watch! Sit up. Come on. I got you.”

He dragged you into a seated position and grabbed a bright pink energy drink from the fridge. He flopped back down in front of you and held out his hand.

“Drink this.”

You saw what he was holding and snorted.

“Why?”

“So you can stay up with me, stupid. You asked to sleep over. I expect fully conscious best friend bonding time.”

You rolled your eyes but took the can anyway.

“I asked to sleep over, not stay up all night,” you said, popping open the can. You held it up to your lips and took an experimental sip.

“How is it?” he asked. You winced and shook your shoulders.

“It tastes like drugged up cotton candy.” You held it up to your lips, then hesitated. “Am I supposed to feel it as it goes through my veins?”

“You are, actually. It’s great.” He picked up his own drink and nearly spilled it on the carpet before taking a long sip. Using your logic, his was a deliciously metallic green apple flavor.

You moved to set your drink down but Makki caught your hands in his own.

“Oh, no you don’t. Come on. Open.” He sat up to between your knees and tipped the drink back toward your lips. “I can sip. You gotta chug.”

You made a muffled sound in protest but let the liquid fall past your lips anyway, grumpily holding his gaze as you drained a good portion of the can. He set it down beside you and shot you what was supposed to be an innocent smile.

“You’re an idiot,” you said.

“Indeed. Feeling more awake?” he asked. You shrugged.

“I’m sure I will once the heart palpitations set in.”

“I know CPR. You’ll be fine.”

He settled back onto the floor and resumed staring at the ceiling. You had bought him one of those little constellation lights for his last birthday, and since it was freezing outside they were the best possible substitute for stargazing. You laid down next to him, fingers laced on your chest. Quiet music came from your phone in the corner, virtually untouched since you arrived hours earlier. Matsukawa always joked that when you hung out together it was like you entered a void, completely impossible to locate until you were separated, and he was right. With you here, this was the only room that existed. You were floating around in space and would be sucked out into nothing as soon as you tried to leave.

You rolled over and leaned against your hand.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked. Makki didn’t look at you. He didn’t need to.

“Matsukawa,” he said. You scoffed.

“Why? Making a tier list of our friend’s eyebrows?”

“Hair, actually. His curls give him a pretty big advantage.”

“They are nice, I’ll give you that. But not nice enough to make up for his shitty personality.”

It wasn’t nearly as fun ripping into him when he wasn’t there to defend himself, but you both laughed anyway.

Makki considered your words for a moment. In all honesty, Matsukawa would place pretty high on all of those lists. A humor list too. And probably an overall looks list. He was certainly the more popular in high school, and had only come more into his own since graduating.

“You know, I always thought Matsukawa was the better looking of the two of us.” The words slipped out before he could even consider stopping them. He froze and turned to you. To his surprise you were studying his face with the interest he might have expected from a doctor and their patient. When you didn’t respond, he realized he was nervous. Why, he didn’t know, but he really, really needed you to respond.

“I’ve never told anyone that before,” he breathed.

“Issei is handsome,” you said. Well, fuck.

“Good, good. These years of insecurity were warranted. Good to know.”

You smacked his shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up while I speak to you.” He laughed but held his tongue. You continued. “Issei is handsome, but you are too. Just in different ways. Neither is better or worse.”

He stared at you stupidly. “Thanks?”

“Don’t say it like it’s a question! I’m being serious.”

“I can tell. It’s just a funny compliment to get.”

“Well, think about it. The sunrise is beautiful. The sunset is beautiful. Two things can be totally different and equally lovely at the same time.”

He gazed at you, face scrunched and unable to decide between confusion and understanding.

“Do you get it?” you asked

“Yeah, yeah. I think so.” He paused and considered what you said. “So, which am I?” You made a face.

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“It’s your metaphor!”

“You’re sunrise, dummy.” You ruffled his hair. “I thought you’d get that.”

He smiled. He could work with sunrise.

“So, which do you prefer?” he asked. “Sunrise or sunset?” You huffed a laugh and your eyes fell to the carpet, where you had started playing with a loose string.

“I try not to play favorites,” you said. He watched your face carefully. A small smile played on your lips, the same one that always appeared when you were alone with him. “But there’s a reason I don’t drag you outside as the sun is going down.”

He stared at you, and you stared right back. An unexpected but deeply familiar feeling settled in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he swallowed hard and returned to laying on his back. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for being honest.”

“I know. But for my own sake, thanks.”

Makki could feel your eyes scanning his face, but he kept his gaze trained on the ceiling.

“You know, you’re good looking too,” he said.

“Yeah? You come up with a fancy metaphor for me?”

He snorted and turned onto his side again. Your lips were curled into the prettiest shadow of a smile and he could feel his mouth going dry.

“I’m not good at talking like that. But you’re just so familiar.” He reached out and absentmindedly traced his fingers over the back of your hand. He tried his best to not look at your face, because he could feel his heating up and the warmth was making it hard to think straight. He stilled his hand and laid it on top of yours as was finally able to piece his thoughts together. “You feel like home.”

When he finally looked at you your lips were parted in surprise. He hadn’t expected that reaction. Was what he said been that outlandish? You had been friends forever. Of course he felt like that around you.

“Thank you, Makki,” you said. His mouth twitched into a smirk.

“You don’t need to thank me for being honest.” The repeated phrase forced a laugh out of you, but he couldn’t quite place the look on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“You just did,” you teased. He rolled his eyes and scooted closer to show he was serious.

“Okay, okay,” you said. “Shoot.”

“Why don’t you call me by my given name?”

You scoffed.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not true! There has to be a reason.”

“It feels too special. I don’t want to use it like that.”

“You use Mattsun’s!”

“Yeah, well.”

He frowned, amused, and leaned in closer. You wrinkled your nose and tried to back away.

“Well, what?” he asked.

“I don’t know how to explain it! It’s just different. Too intimate.” You said the last part quietly, like you didn’t want him to hear it.

“So why can you use his ‘intimate’ name and not mine?”

“Because it feels different with you.”

“Why?”

You were staring at him, an apprehensive look on your face. He paused, and the new information finally clicked. Oh.

You both hesitated.

“Do you want me to say it or do you get it?” you whispered.

“I think I get it?”

You blew out a frustrated sigh and covered your face with your hands.

“Don’t say it like a question!”

“Fine, fine, fine. I genuinely think I get it but I don’t want to be presumptuous.”

“So you get it but you’re not going to do anything to show me that you get it?”

“See? You get it.”

“Makki!”

“What? You know I can’t turn it off.” He grinned. “It’s like an impulse.”

“You’re an impulsive ass?”

“I am. That’s why we fit so well together. You’re an impulsive ass tamer.”

You let out a surprised laugh.

“And what does that make Issei?”

Makki waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, forget about him. I wanna focus on us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, us. I’m still on this given name bullshit.”

“God,” you groaned. “Can we move on to another topic?”

“Not until I’m sure that I know what I think I know.”

“Hanamaki Takahiro, I am going to end your bloodline.”

He perked up and pointed at your face.

“Ah! You said it! Now just say it on its own.”

“Hanamaki.”

“Fuck! No. Not that one.”

You stared at him seriously.

“Just try it!” he begged. “Then I’ll stop bugging you.”

“Forever?”

“Hell no, just about this.”

You groaned and rubbed your hands over your face. You took a deep breath and set your jaw.

“Just once?” you asked.

“Just once. Unless I want to hear it again.”

“If you’re going to be weird I’m not going to say it!”

“Fine! Fine. I’m shutting up.” He motioned like he was zipping up his lips and handing you the key. You laughed and pretended to take it, closing your hand into a fist and laying it between you.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. He pretended not to notice the way it faltered on the way out. You looked him seriously in the eye.

“Takahiro.”

Shit.

He expected it to feel silly, so much hype up for something incredibly stupid. But it wasn’t. It felt a little too good to be silly. It felt really good. It felt right.

He held out his hand. Your brows pulled together until he pointed at your hand, then his face. You let out a ridiculous laugh and held two fingers close to his mouth, pretending to unzip his lips again. He caught your hand before you could fully pull it away, cradling it against his face.

“You know, that’s the prettiest anyone has ever said it.” He didn’t register the words that were forming until they were out and he was cringing, waiting for you to tell him to fuck off. Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t be embarrassing.”

“What? The more you say it the less strange it feels for both of us.” He scooted against the ground, bringing his body even closer to yours. “Do it again.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“Takahiro.”

Fuck.

You sat in silence. You stared at each other, unwavering and perfectly comfortable, neither of you making any move to turn away. Makki broke the silence with a sharp breath.

“Can I try something?” he asked. You looked apprehensive but he went on. “If I totally misread the situation that’s fine, I won’t be offended. Just, can I?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t care.”

Well, shit. He was suddenly frozen.

You know what? No. You were one of his best friends. If he fucked up, you’d tell him, then you’d laugh about it, and best of all, you’d never ever tell Matsukawa. That was the kind of friend you were. You were perfect. You were his.

He pushed up on his elbow and leaned over you. He could see your eyes widen in surprise, then settle back into something nervous but not apprehensive. He was so close to you. At this distance he could feel every pull of your breath against his face. God, he could do this. If worst came to worst you could laugh about it and return to being best friends. He might die as he did this, but if he was honest, he was more likely going to die if he didn’t.

He reached up and ran a hand through your hair. Then, he cupped the side of your face, leaned in, and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours.

For a moment he panicked because you didn’t move. You were frozen against him, and he had fucked up so horribly he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to laugh it off.

Then you weren’t frozen and there was a hand buried in his hair, and he let out the most relieved sigh of his life.

He swore he could feel you smiling as he finally let himself move, lips shifting against yours like they had always been there. You fit against him so perfectly it almost surprised him, but only almost. You had always been in sync, ready to back him up with a joke or laugh or the end of a snarky comment that he couldn’t quite get out. You were his other half and it only made sense that your lips were made just for each other.

He planted a knee on the ground between your legs and propped himself up above you, shivering when your hands ran down his sides.

Makki knew he was a good kisser, but with the responsive, welcoming way your mouth moved against his, he became painfully aware that he had never experienced a truly great kiss until now. He felt your tongue nudge his lips and he parted them, letting you deepen the kiss. You tasted like the stupid cotton candy energy drink and the sweet, familiar breath of someone that he adored.

Your fingertips danced along his abdomen, then his hipbones, finally coming to rest just slightly dipped under the band of his pajama pants. There was no longer the hesitance of friendship in your hands, and when he cradled the back of your neck, he realized the feeling was affecting him too. You were trembling, and so was he, drunk on the feeling of a familiar but entirely new body. Playful touches couldn’t compare to harsh fingers grasping at whatever skin they could find, eliciting small sighs and dizzying gasps.

He dipped his head down and planted kisses along your jaw. Your hands closed into fists and you tipped your head back, letting his tongue move down to you neck. He might have been leaving hickies. He honestly didn’t know. All he cared about was absorbing as much of you as he could as quickly as possible.

You brought up your knees so he was sandwiched between your legs and he shuddered. He thought the kiss would be enough. Hell, he didn’t even think you’d receive it this enthusiastically. But he could feel that he was turned on, and you were definitely going to be able to tell if he didn’t slow down a little. He brought his lips back to yours and tried to lower the tension, ease up the pace, but then your legs were wrapped tightly around him, forcing him to grind against you.

Oh, fuck.

You grabbed his face on either side and licked into his mouth like you were trying to own him, and jesus he was starting to believe you did. His arms were braced on either side of you, desperately trying to keep him from completely melting, but it wasn’t working at all.

He was distantly aware that he was hard, but he didn’t think about it until one of your hands had left his face to paw at him through his pajamas. He gasped and felt you smile into the kiss, rubbing your palm up his length, nearly able to wrap your hand around him through the thin fabric. He pulled away from your lips and looked at you seriously, or as seriously as he could when his brain was actively trying to vacate his skull.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You ground your hand harder against him.

“Getting shy on me, Takahiro?”

He let out a shaky breath and shook his head. You stared up at him with a smug smile and he had the urge to kiss it off your face.

“Shut up,” he grumbled. You smiled and pulled him down by the back of his neck.

“Make me.”

He cut off any further comment by connecting your lips, trying to fight off a grin. You managed to maneuver the front of his pajamas down and he gasped as the cool air hit him. He braced himself against the floor with an elbow and you used the moment of surprise to wrap your legs around him and lock his hips against you.

He ground against you once and was met with the sudden, dizzying realization that you weren’t wearing anything under your loose pajama shorts. He filed that information away for later, when he could sit down and ask himself just how many times you had laid beside him like that. One of your hands gripped his hair tighter as he pushed himself against you once more, trying to give you the opportunity to take the lead.

“Jesus,” you said suddenly, reaching down and taking hold of his length. “Just fuck me already.”

That sentence alone could have killed him, but his train of thought was derailed as you lined him up between your legs and held onto his shoulders, begging him to get closer. He readjusted his forearm on the floor above your head and pushed inside of you with one fluid motion.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed. He tipped his forehead against your face, trying to regain some semblance of self control as he withdrew and thrust forward again. The way you groaned and dug your fingertips into his back made that nearly impossible.

He set a slow, grinding pace, letting himself swim in your quiet moans before silencing them with a kiss. Your hands moved back to his hair, holding him close as your tongue met his. The motion felt so natural that he barely registered that you had only kissed for the first time a few minutes ago. It felt like you’d been his forever.

You broke the kiss but Makki kept his face pressed against yours.

“Takahiro,” you sighed. “A little faster.”

He nearly lost control of his body as he obeyed, quick breaths leaving his lips involuntarily with every movement. Your moans were driving him crazy. He wanted to taste them, drink in every bit of you until you were shaking beneath him. He captured your lips in a kiss again and shifted a hand between your legs, circling your clit as he continued thrusting into you.

The sound that left your throat was muffled against his lips, but he swore he would never forget it. Your breath was quick against his skin and the kiss became messier with every motion. One of your hands flew around his bicep, like you were trying to anchor yourself as he continued pushing into you.

Fuck, Makki was close. The harder you panted, the tighter your grip on him was, the faster he hurtled toward the edge. You were moaning into his mouth, and his fingers were moving faster between your legs, and his arm was cramping just a little bit from holding himself above you, but then you were breaking the kiss and your back was arching and holy shit.

Makki’s hips stuttered and he let out the most embarrassing, full-bodied groan he was capable of. He had to snap his other arm up to avoid collapsing on top of you. He stopped moving and basked in the little shocked breaths that left your body, even after you had stopped shaking. He rolled off of you and closed his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he said. Laughter cut through his words, but he could tell you were having the same problem as your chest heaved. He could see you rearranging your clothes out of the corner of his eye. You paused while readjusting your shirt.

“Makki, you gave me a hickie,” you said. He shoved your arm.

“You don’t get to call me Makki after I just made you come.”

You laughed loudly and flicked his head. He continued staring at the ceiling until he felt you turn over and lay a hand on his chest. He looked down and you were studying him, an amused expression on your face.

“Think Issei will know something’s up?” you asked.

“Of course,” he said. “He notices everything. But deny till you die, right?” You smiled and he pressed a long kiss to your lips, relishing the feeling of your breath dancing over his skin.

This was the only room in existence. You were the only person in the universe, and yours were the only lips he had ever kissed. Nothing mattered besides you and him, right now, exactly where you were supposed to be.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 108: Ideal (Happy Birthday, Harry Potter)

Harry hadn’t had very many good birthdays.

Somehow, in spite of that fact, he’d imagined that his 19th birthday would be different. Last year, on his 18th birthday, when they’d spent the day rebuilding Hogwarts, Harry had reflected on his many terrible birthdays and told himself that 18 would be the last bad one. He’d told himself that on his 19th birthday there would be a party, he’d have his friends around him, and maybe just for that one day, they could forget everything bad and just have fun.

But now he was single, living in muggle London, without any friends nearby, and without any happy plans in place. He decided that he had to do something today, there must be something that could make his birthday not quite so glum.

He set off toward a coffee shop a few blocks from his house and ran smack into a door as a woman was coming out. She apologized but Harry was too distracted by what he saw inside of the store. From where he stood he could see reptiles, and birds, and he thought he could make out cats in the corner, and somewhere there was the faint sound of puppies yipping.

Waving the woman off he entered the animal shelter, feeling like might have found something good after all. He wandered in; first past the birds, then the reptiles, then to the kittens and full-grown cats. He paused with the cats for a little while, trailing his fingers along their cages and talking to them softly. Then he moved past them to the dogs and puppies.

There had to be about 10 altogether, different breeds and types, some sleeping, some playing together, some just wandering about sniffing. Several came charging over to the edge of their pen when they saw him, wagging their tails eagerly and he just knew. He looked up and waved to a sales associate who was straightening some pet supplies. “Sorry, I just wonder if I could meet some of the dogs?”

“Oh, sure!” she replied brightly. “Draco is on the dogs today, I’ll call him over. Just a mo.”

That was an odd name, Harry thought, it must be a coincidence. Surely Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be working in a Muggle Animal Shelter of all places. It was preposterous. Yet a moment later he heard a voice he’d recognize anywhere, “Sir, is there something I can help you with?”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he turned to look at the boy who had been his nemesis for several years, “Malfoy?” he asked incredulously, yet somehow he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised. It was his birthday after all.

(Read more below the cut)

“Potter? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

“Oh, you boys know each other?” Annie asked with a wide smile.

“Uh,” Harry said inarticulately even as Malfoy said, “Yes, we went to school together.”

“Oh, it’s always nice to run into old friends!” she exclaimed. “Well, I’ll just leave you two to catch up and to find this young man a puppy!”

“You’re here to adopt a puppy?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“Or a grown-up dog,” Harry replied defensively, feeling like this sort of luck was quite typical of his birthdays.

“And you just happened to show up at the one shelter in all of London that I work at?”

“Well, it’s not like I knew you worked here. It’s my birthday and I just wanted one happy thing-”

“A dog is a big commitment. It’s not just something you decide you want one day then discard the next.”

“I know that!” he protested. “And I want a commitment. I want something to love and take care of, something that loves me in return. I want something that is there all the time.”

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment. “Alright. What kind of dog are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe I could meet them and then I’d know which one was the right one.”

“Trust me, Potter, if you do it that way you’ll take home 5 dogs.”

“Maybe I want five dogs,” Harry said stubbornly. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else on at the moment.”

Malfoy snorted, “Have you ever owned a dog, Potter?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Have you?”

“No,” Malfoy said. “For one thing I’m not allowed to have them in my flat and for another, I don’t have the time and energy for a dog. Dogs are a lot of work and I’m not saying you can’t do it,” he said, as Harry opened his mouth to protest. “I’m just saying, maybe you should start with one dog.”

Harry frowned but it did make sense, he supposed.

“Come on, Potter, tell me about your ideal dog and I’ll still let you meet all of them,” he said as he started toward the back. When Harry didn’t follow he said, “Come on, you can’t meet them out there.”

Harry followed him through a door that led behind the glass.

“So, when you imagine your perfect dog, do you think you want a dog with a lot of energy or that’s a little more lowkey?”

“Umm,” Harry said, imagining that he’d like a dog who wanted to play but also thinking of how hard some days were. “Maybe a little lower energy, but one that would still like taking walks and want to play a little bit each day.”

“Well, most of our dogs will want to play at least a little bit here and there,” he replied. “So meet Artemis first,” he said, as he went into the area all of the dogs were in and led one dog out. “She is not for you,” he said as the dog bounded over to Harry and Harry knelt down to pet her. She licked his face and put her paws up on his shoulders to sniff his hair.

“Why isn’t she for me?” he asked, tipping his head up to avoid being licked in the mouth. “Hi Artemis,” he said. “Hello, beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked her sides, combing through her soft fur. “You’re a lovie, aren’t you?”

“She is,” Malfoy confirmed, rubbing her head between her ears. “But our Artemis is part Australian Cattle Dog which means she is very high energy. She needs to run every day regardless of the weather and she needs a lot of stimulation. She is a very smart girl and there will be a perfect home for her, but you aren’t it.”

“But I like her,” Harry said, wrestling with her a little bit.

“You’ll like lots of them,” he said. “I promise.” Then he added, “And if she is your favorite, there’s nothing saying she can’t come back out so you can have her.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed reluctantly.

“Alright,” Malfoy repeated. “So that’s Artemis, you can meet Pontus next,” he said, before calling Artemis back to the playroom where the other dogs were. “Pontus isn’t completely trained yet, we’re still working with him on basic commands, so I’ll just have to go in and get him.”

Harry nodded and sat back on his heels to wait, a moment later a huge dog came out, panting and dragging Malfoy behind him.

“Pontus,” Malfoy said reprovingly.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as the dog barreled into him and knocked him off his feet with a couple of raucous barks. He pinned Harry’s shoulders to the floor and licked his face quite thoroughly, butting his glasses completely off his face. “Hey, boy,” Harry managed, pushing at his broad chest so he could sit up.

Malfoy was tugging at the dog’s collar, seemingly to no avail. Finally, between the two of them, they got him enough off of Harry that he could sit up.

“Well, hello to you, too, handsome,” Harry said with a chuckle as he scratched behind his ears and Pontus tried to sit in his lap.

“Pontus is very sweet but he is an oaf,” Malfoy said as he brushed his hair back out of his face. “He is part American Pitbull and part something huge and dumb. We can’t quite figure him out.”

“He’s a nice boy,” Harry said as Pontus tried to chew on a bit of Harry’s fringe.

“No,” Malfoy reprimanded the dog, tugging him back from Harry. “Yes, he is, but he needs a firm hand, Potter, and you are too soft. Once he’s trained a little bit he’ll be a very good boy but you just let him eat your hair so you’re definitely not his.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, patting the dog’s side. “I think you’re probably right.”

“Did you hit your head on the floor when he knocked you over?”

“Not really,” Harry said as he reached back to rub the back of his head and Pontus butted him to get him to keep petting him, “Yes, alright, you demanding thing,” he said with a chuckle. “Why do you ask?”

“Well because you admitted I was right and it didn’t seem to hurt you even a little bit.”

Harry laughed, “You’re a git. I’ll have you know it didn’t hurt me one bit.”

“My, my,” Malfoy said with a small smile, “Is this what we call character development?”

“Yes, I see you,” Harry said as Pontus flopped over onto his back on top of Harry’s legs so he could rub his belly.

“He likes you,” Malfoy said with a grin.

Harry looked up at him, “He seems pretty friendly, Malfoy. I bet he likes everyone.”

Malfoy shrugged one annoyingly elegant shoulder, “Not really. He’s usually not too keen on men, in fact.”

“And you let him all but attack me?” Harry asked in mock offense. “I mean, I know you don’t like me, Malfoy, but killing me seems a little much.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “He doesn’t attack people. It’s a common misconception about his breed. It’s all about how they are raised and trained, just like it is with every dog. Except possibly chihuahuas.”

Harry laughed, “I don’t know anything about his breed,” he said honestly. “I just meant that he tackled me to the floor pretty quickly.”

“Yes,” he said, “But when Pontus doesn’t like someone he cowers from them, he doesn’t attack them. He will do whatever he can to put as much distance and as many obstacles as he can between him and the person he’s afraid of.”

“Well, I think he’s sweet,” Harry said, his heart in his throat at the thought of this poor dog being so afraid. “Maybe I could adopt him-” he started.

“Oh no you don’t,” Malfoy said and he leaned down and grasped Pontus’ collar once more. “His person will come and in the meantime, he will have us to look after him. He is not the dog for you; he will wreck your entire house and you’ll let him. He deserves a family who will train him and teach him to be a good boy because he wants to be a good boy.”

Pontus stood up and wagged his tail at Malfoy, slapping Harry across the face. “Ow!” Harry said, shoving at Pontus’ rear end, “Stop hitting me with your tail. That hurts!”

“His tail is very strong,” Malfoy said with a chuckle, “Come on you,” he said to Pontus, “You can go back and play.”

A moment later he came back in, carrying a squirmy puppy in his arms. Harry reached out for it immediately, “Hello,” he cooed at it as the pup started to sniff him.

“This is Caerus,” he said. “He’s a beagle mix, which is quite obvious by his love of sniffing and by his sweet floppy ears.”

“Hi Caerus,” Harry said, holding him up so they were nose to nose, “You are very cute. Yes, you are.”

“He’s just going up for adoption,” Malfoy said. “He was a little touch-and-go for a while, his brother and sisters all died. He was in a very unsafe situation when we found him and we really didn’t know if he’d make it or not, but he’s a fighter.”

He squirmed to get down and Harry set him on the floor and he took off sniffing around the room they were in, following his nose.

“He will have no trouble being adopted. He is young and adorable, and people love puppies.”

“He is really cute,” Harry said as he watched him run around. “But he’s not for me.”

“I agree,” he replied.

“Why?”

“Oh, you’re looking for someone who’s a real rescue.”

“What does that even mean?” Harry asked.

Malfoy watched the little dog walking around the room, investigating and sniffing as he said, “It means that you have a hero complex, Potter, which I can’t even blame you for because you were raised to have one. But you want to rescue a dog who’s come from a rough life and knows it. You want a dog that will love you unconditionally and whose sun rises and sets with you.”

“Well-” Harry started, feeling a little defensive.

“That wasn’t a criticism,” Malfoy said quickly. “It’s a good thing. It means that you want to really bond with your dog and vice versa. Frankly, you’ll be a great pet parent.”

“Err,” Harry said inarticulately. “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said with another one of those shrugs. “Besides, you’re not cut out to train a puppy.”

Harry laughed, “I could learn.”

“You could,” he conceded. “Maybe. You don’t like to be the bad guy and sometimes when you’re training a dog you have to be able to say a firm no. Especially with puppies.” Before Harry could respond, Malfoy was bending over and scooping up Caerus, “Alright, Mister. Back to the puppy room with you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

When he came back he brought two puppies with him, both with curly, white hair. “Meet Castor and Pollux,” he said.

“Hello,” Harry replied, petting both of them as they squirmed on the floor and started to tousle with one another, both yipping happily as they played.

“We are hoping someone will adopt them as a set. They’ve never been apart a day in their lives and they basically only socialize with one another, no matter what we do with them. They both cry inconsolably when they are separated.” He crouched down beside Harry and stroked one of their backs, “They are also definitely not for you, but I told you that you could meet all of them.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile as Malfoy scooped them back up and carried them back to the other room.

A moment later he came in, walking slowly and leading a dog who limped along behind him. “This is Molly,” he said as he led her over to Harry. She wagged her tail happily at him and plopped down next to him. “She is the sweetest, gentlest dog you’ve ever met.”

Harry stroked her head and she laid her head on his lap.

“She’s a black lab mix and she is a love,” he said as he crouched next to Harry once more, “She has had a hard life and she would love you until the day she died, but she is also not for you.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up at Malfoy, “Why not?”

“Well first because she is special needs, she’s blind, her liver is pretty much shot, she’s all but deaf, she can’t manage stairs, and she is on a variety of medications.”

“I could learn how to deal with all of those things!” Harry protested. “Poor girl, she just needs a home.”

“That’s the second reason you can’t have her,” he said. “She’s already been adopted. She’s the owner’s dog. He just brings her along because he can’t leave her alone at home all day.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Yes, oh,” Malfoy replied. “She’s a good old girl.”

“Why doesn’t her name match all the others?”

Malfoy flushed slightly and Harry couldn’t help but find it a little charming, “I named all of the others,” he confessed. “We just need something to call them while they’re here and I like to give them new names if they’ve come from somewhere else to help distance them from their pasts. People can change their names when they leave.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry said.

“Shut up,” Malfoy replied.

Harry laughed, “What? It is.”

He rolled his eyes, “Alright, Miss Molly, let’s go. We have to find this prat a dog and you can’t be it,” he told her as he gave her a gentle tap and started leading her out. “No, you cannot. Your dad would never give you up. No,” he said as the door closed behind him.

Next, he came in carrying a tiny dog who was yipping at him, “Yes, yes, Hermes. We all hear you.”

He set the dog down and he immediately ran over to Harry, still barking at him. Harry held out a hand to the dog to sniff, “Hello there.”

Hermes yipped at him and then ran over to Malfoy yipping before returning to Harry once more.

“Hermes thinks it’s his job to tell everyone everything. He basically never stops barking.”

“Aptly named then,” Harry said as he reached out and stroked a hand down his back.

“He’s part chihuahua, we’re certain,” Malfoy continued. “And he is trained and housebroken, his only problem is that he doesn’t stop barking.”

“Will a dog like this find a home?” Harry asked, even though he knew it couldn’t be with him.

“Oh, certainly,” he replied. “He’s young and healthy and has his basic training. There are people out there who will not mind his barking one bit.”

“I’m not one of them,” Harry said as he handed Hermes back to Malfoy.

“No,” he replied. “There are two more,” he said. “And while I think either of them could be right for you, I’m saving the one I think is perfect for last.”

“Alright.”

“I only say this so that you don’t fall completely head over heels for the next one before meeting Penelope.”

“I’ll do my best,” Harry assured him.

A few minutes later he returned with a giant black dog ambling along behind him, “This is Gaia,” he said.

Harry’s heart melted as the dog walked straight over to him and flopped down on his feet. “Hello beautiful girl,” he said as he stroked through her thick fur.

“Gaia is a six-year-old Newfoundland mix. She is house trained already, she’s a very low energy dog but she’ll go on walks and play with you. She is a very sweet girl.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, he brushed his thumb along her cheek and she stared at him with her big brown eyes. “Hi,” he said softly.

“She would love you unconditionally,” Malfoy said as he knelt beside Harry.

“Why do you think she isn’t perfect for me?”

“More than half of her life is already over,” Malfoy said. “Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.” He glanced down at the dog and stroked her side.

“But...” Harry prompted.

“But,” Malfoy said before taking a deep breath. “You’ve seen a lot of death,” he looked up at Harry then, his eyes so clear and sincere that they seemed to pierce into Harry’s very soul. “Newfies typically live 8-10 years.” He raised one shoulder, “She would be great for you, but she is going to leave you far too soon.”

Harry’s eyes stung and he looked away from Draco and down at Gaia who had fallen asleep. “Will she get adopted?”

“Yes,” Malfoy said without even a moment’s hesitation. “She is a sweet, sweet girl and people love big dogs. I give her two weeks in here tops.”

Harry stroked her ear between his fingers, “If I tell you to bring in the last one but decide I like her better?”

“You can still adopt her,” he said quickly. “Sending her back now doesn’t hurt a thing.”

He nodded once, “Alright.”

Malfoy nodded back, “Come on, Miss Gaia,” he said. “Up you get, you sleepy girl.”

She stood up, turning to look at Harry for a moment and wagging her bushy tail at him, before lumbering after Malfoy once more.

When he returned he was leading a small tan dog behind him. “This,” he said as he scooped her up, “Is Penelope.”

As Malfoy started to hand her to Harry she started wagging her tail so hard that her entire body wiggled with the movement. Harry laughed as he took her into his arms, “Well hello little one,” he said. She bumped her nose against his before licking his cheek. “Hi,” he said again.

She squirmed a bit, so he set her down, thinking this is where any that had gone wrong went wrong but she didn’t walk away, she stood up on her hind legs and pressed her front paws against his chest so she could lick under his chin.

He laughed and stroked down her sides, she was super soft and he said as much to Malfoy.

He nodded, “Yeah, our best guess for breed is a chihuahua-frenchie or chihuahua-pug mix. The pug or frenchie would account for the wrinkles that she gets in her forehead, how soft she is, her barrel chest, and the way her little ears look. Chihuahua would account for the long legs and slender build in spite of her barrel chest.”

She took her feet off Harry’s chest and Harry held his breath to see what she would do. She turned away and he thought that his mind was made up but then she turned in a circle in between his legs, then another, then a third before laying down pressed against his body as close as she could get.

Something made Harry feel like he was choking as he watched her settle against him.

“She likes you,” Malfoy said softly. “Miss Penelope is almost two. She is potty and kennel trained already but will need a little help learning basic commands, she’s relatively young so it shouldn’t be too hard. She doesn’t like going on walks when it’s too hot or too cold, but when the weather is nice she enjoys them. She likes to play fetch and she really likes to chew things. But her favorite thing is a lap to curl up on under a blanket.”

“She’s so small,” Harry said softly.

“Fifteen pounds,” Malfoy affirmed.

“Would she want to sleep in a kennel at night?” Harry asked.

“If you wanted her to,” he said.

“And if I didn’t?”

“She loves to get up on furniture with people. I’m sure she’d be glad to sleep in bed with you if that’s what you’re asking.”

She lifted her head up from where it was tucked against her chest and plopped it on Harry’s thigh, gazing up at him with warm caramel eyes.

“She would adore you,” Malfoy said softly. “I named her Penelope because I knew that whoever she chose as her person she would be unendingly faithful to.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, stroking her head before running her ear between his fingers.

Over the earpiece Malfoy was wearing, Harry could hear Annie requesting back up on the sales floor.

“Why don’t you two take a little more time together,” Malfoy said. “I’ll go check in with Annie and then when I come back you can tell me what you’ve decided.”

Penelope lifted her head as Malfoy left the room watching him until the door closed before turning to look at Harry.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, stroking his fingers down her side. “He’ll be back.” He picked her up, holding her in his arms like an infant, and she huffed a little breath before settling her head on his shoulder, tucking her nose into his neck.

“It’s alright,” he said again, even though she didn’t seem perturbed in the least. “What do you think, then?” he asked her. “Hmm?”

She pressed her nose against his neck and gave him a tiny lick.

“Do you want to come live with me?” he asked her.

Her tail twitched back and forth a few times.

“Is that a yes?” he asked as he turned his head to press his face into the fur on her shoulder. “Hmm? You want to come home with me?”

More waggles and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Do you like the name Penelope?” he asked her, shifting her so that he could see her face, he brushed his thumb over her black whiskers and she turned her head away, “Well you don’t like that, do you?” he asked and he brushed his thumb under her eye to clear a little gunk. “Sorry, little one.”

She let out a little huff at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her.

He held her and pet her, talking to her softly. He fell completely in love with her in a matter of minutes.

When the door opened and Malfoy stepped back in, Harry said, “Can I take her home today?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy said with a smile. “There’s a whole bunch of paperwork for you to fill out first but wait until you get a load of their quills. There’s no inkpot or anything.”

Harry laughed, “They’re pens, not quills.”

“You know about them?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

“I lived with muggles after my parents died until I was 11. Yes, I know what pens are.”

Malfoy huffed, “Why wouldn’t you have brought them to Hogwarts? Why didn’t you use them there? It would have been so much smarter.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with pens,” Harry replied with a laugh.

“Well, that's probably true. But I was an idiot.”

Before Harry could say anything in response or even process that remark fully, Malfoy was reaching for Penelope, “Let me put her with the others while we get you squared away.”

“No!” Harry said quickly, clutching her tighter against him.

“I’ll give her back, I promise,” Malfoy said.

“Can’t she just stay with me?” Harry pleaded.

Malfoy looked at him for a moment, “Yes, alright, but don’t let her distract you from the work you have to do.”

“I won’t.”

“Here,” he said, holding out a contraption to Harry. “Put this on her, she can’t be loose out on the sales floor.”

“Err,” Harry said as he reached for it. “How do I?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Merlin, Potter. It’s a harness,” he said. “Here, set her on the floor and I’ll show you how to put it on her. It’s so you can walk her on a leash.”

“Can’t I just use a collar?” he asked.

“No,” Malfoy said as he lifted one of her front legs through a hole, then the other. “Small dogs, in general, do better with harnesses than collars. Unlike larger dogs, she has a more fragile trachea so we put a harness on her instead.”

“Is she okay, though?”

“Oh, yes,” he said quickly as he snapped the harness over her back. “Right,” Malfoy said, passing him the end of her leash. “This way, I’ll take you in to see Jeff and get her paperwork filled out.”

“Great, thanks,” Harry said, “Alright, Penelope,” he said, “let’s go.” She wagged her tail and stared up at him.

“Do you have the things you’ll need for your home?”

Harry shook his head, “Can I get those things here?”

“Yes. After you fill out her adoption paperwork.”

“Will you help me make sure I get everything she needs?” Harry asked quickly, afraid he’d miss something essential.

Malfoy gave him a smile and a small nod.

When they went to the office, Malfoy knocked on the door and someone, Jeff, Harry presumed, called for him to enter.

“Hi Jeff, this is Harry Potter,” Malfoy said, gesturing for Harry to enter the room. “He’s here to adopt Penelope.”

The man at the desk looked up over the top of his glasses and gave Harry a warm smile. “That is wonderful news! Come in.”

“I’ll just leave you to it, then,” Malfoy replied.

“Draco, you should stay. I’ve been meaning for you to learn more about the actual adoption process,” Jeff said.

It took a while to fill out all of the paperwork, but once they did, Jeff said, “perfect. Now there’s just the home visit and you’ll be all set.”

Harry looked over at Malfoy and Malfoy looked at him, both realizing at the same time what a bad idea it was to have a muggle come to his house.

“I’ll do it,” Malfoy volunteered quickly.

“Your shift is almost over,” Jeff said, looking at the clock on the wall. “I can take care of it.”

“That’s alright,” he said. “I don’t mind. We’re old,” he broke off, glancing at Harry, “friends,” he finished a bit awkwardly. “I’m helping him make sure he has everything he needs anyway.”

The other man nodded, "If you're sure."

"I'm sure," he said, nudging Harry out of the office.

Malfoy helped him to buy supplies for her, laughing as Harry picked out far more toys and treats for her than he thought was necessary. The sales associate helped them to box everything up and Malfoy helped him carry everything out of the store. "How far do we have to walk?" Malfoy asked.

"Just a couple of blocks," Harry said. "Do you want me to take that?" he asked, offering him Penelope's leash in exchange.

He shook his head, "It's fine." He hoisted the box a little higher in his arms.

"Do you live near here, too?" he asked, watching Penelope trot along tail wagging as she sniffed.

"About twenty minutes by bus."

He couldn't help but chuckle, "Draco Malfoy riding a muggle bus, who would have thought it?"

But the other man didn't seem to find that amusing, he frowned, "I'm not the person you remember."

"No," Harry said quickly, "I know," he added. "I wasn't trying to say anything unkind."

"Sorry," Malfoy replied, shaking his head slightly, "It's been a while since I've seen anyone from the wizarding world." He paused then added, "People from the past don't generally say kind things."

Harry hummed, "The wizarding world is full of hypocrites and people unwilling to see the wrong they themselves have done." He shook his head, "It's a lot. It's why I left."

He nodded to the door ahead of them, "This is my house," he added.

"It's nice," Draco said.

"Thanks," he grinned as he opened the door. "Sorry, I didn't realize that I would be having company or I would have cleaned up a little more," he added as he let Malfoy inside.

He took the harness off of her and let her investigate her surroundings.

"Did you say that you aren't expecting company?" Malfoy asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, keeping one eye on the dog as he started setting up her little bed and basket of toys.

"But it's your birthday," he said.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

Malfoy stared at him for a long moment before clearing his throat, "Do you have a back yard?"

"Yes," he said, glad for the change of subject, "This way," he added, nodding toward the back door. "It's fenced in but it's not very big, I'll take her on walks," he hastened to add as he opened the door. Penelope wandered out and started sniffing around and something warm unfurled in Harry's chest just watching her.

The other boy glanced out the door and nodded, "This is fine, it passes the inspection."

"Good," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Come on, Penny," he called and the little dog perked her head up and came dashing across the yard and back into the house."

"Penny, huh?" Malfoy asked with an amused little smile.

"For short," Harry nodded.

"I like it," he said as they turned and headed inside. "Well, I'll get out of your hair-"

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Harry asked without really thinking about why.

Malfoy's brow furrowed, "Do you want me to?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "Only if you want to." When Malfoy didn't reply immediately he shook his head, "Never mind, it's silly. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm lonely, ignore me."

"No. I'd," he swallowed, "I'd like to stay for dinner, if you wanted. I just couldn't imagine that you'd want..." he trailed off.

"We're not the boys we were," Harry said, holding out a hand, "Harry Potter."

After a heartbeat Draco reached out and clasped his hand, "Draco Malfoy."

"Do you like pizza?" Harry asked.

He nodded, "As long as you don't put peppers on it."

"Done," he replied as Penny came over and put her paws up on his leg. He scooped her up and smiled, thinking for the first time in a long time that maybe everything was going to turn out alright.

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

Sorry friends, this one really got away from me. It's super long. I hope that you still enjoy it! <3 Lots of love, -c

Day 107: Charge | Day 109: Coffee Shop

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

@jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time @katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

LINK

Thanks for letting me write this, guys!!

AO3  (2.1k)

The thing about Heaven was that it was whatever you wanted it to be, and most of its residents wanted it to be familiar.

Technically, Dean didn’t need to fill his car up on gas anymore, but there was still a gas station just down the street from where his new home was placed. He didn’t need to sleep, but he still had a large king-sized bed he made sure to make use of at least once a day. He didn’t need to eat, but there was a thriving supermarket that catered to whatever he was feeling like eating and always boasted the freshest ingredients for when he wanted to get a little fancy with his cooking.

Like today, for example.

Bobby had said he doubted Dean could make a proper souffle, so obviously Dean had to make the old man eat his words - and a souffle.

Dean stared at all of the different options of eggs, trying to decide if “free-range” vs. “organic” actually meant anything in Heaven, or if it was just meant to give him some sort of familiarity.

He grabbed the “free-range” option and moved on to the dairy.

There was movement out of the corner of his eye in the meat section across the way, and the way his heart stopped in his chest when he turned to look would have killed him if he wasn’t already dead.

It was Cas.

Cas, who Dean had spent every day thinking about since he’d left. Cas, who Dean had been trying to find ever since Bobby told him he was still around. Cas, who Dean still had unfinished business with.

He’d spend hours in bed, staring at the ceiling of his room and rehearsing just what he’d say when he saw him again, but in those scenarios Cas had shown up on his doorstep or in the passenger seat of his car where they could have a moment to just be .

He’d never been buying hamburger meat.

Dean rushed forward, cart forgotten, and skidded to a halt in front of Cas, just as he looked up in surprise.

“I love you -” Dean said in a rush, heart pounding, head reeling, “Of course I love you. You’re - fuck - you’re everything I could ever want and I’m - I’m so damn sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t have me, too.”

Cas blinked at him, and it was in that moment Dean realized something was wrong.

His expression, his hair, the way he moved, the way he was dressed - all of it was wrong.

None of it was Cas, he’d just been too overwhelmed to see it.

“Oh, uh... hey Dean,” Not-Cas said, and finished putting his selected meat in his basket, “I didn’t didn’t know that you died. Um, if you’re looking for Castiel -“

Dean turned and ran out of the store.

*

What were the fucking chances that in all of Heaven, he and Cas’s old vessel were neighbors?

Dean gunned the gas pedal on his car as he drove endlessly, trying to walk himself through what exactly had happened the day before.

Jimmy Novak was here.

Jimmy Novak who - last Dean checked - hated him.

Dean had just spewed his feelings all over him without even thinking about the possibility that he wasn’t Cas. He’d been wearing a sweater vest for crying out loud - but he was willing to forgive himself for that one because he didn’t really know how Cas would dress if he had the choice.

His hopes had soared so high when he’d seen the familiar figure, only to be dashed the moment Jimmy had opened his mouth. They sounded absolutely nothing alike - and Dean yearned for the deep gravel of Castiel’s greeting.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened.

Where was Cas?

Didn’t he know that there was nothing keeping them apart now?

In what could only be an act of fate smiling down on him, Dean zoomed around a corner near the Heavenly library, and instantly had to stomp on the brakes of the Impala as a trenchcoat-clad figure stepped into the previously empty crosswalk.

Old habits die hard - Dean was still going to brake for Heavenly pedestrians, especially ones that looked like Cas.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes wide, and Dean shoved the driver’s side door open in a panic. The trench coat was unmistakable this time.

“Cas! Cas - don’t go okay? I gotta -“

Cas shook his head sharply and let out a breath.

“No - Jesus Christ - it’s still me, you idiot.”

Dean gaped at him as his brain tried to catch up with the conflicting bits of information it was processing.

“...what?” He heard himself saying.

Had he just wanted it to be Cas so bad that he’d ignored all the signs?

Jimmy gestured at himself like it was enough of an explanation.

“Uh. Yeah.”

“But - but you’re wearing his trenchcoat! ” Dean said, waved at it like maybe Jimmy hadn’t realized he was walking around as the mockery of the angel who’d once shared a living space with him.

Jimmy placed an affronted hand on his own chest.

“It was my trenchcoat!”

Frustration boiled inside of him and Dean quickly slid back into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

He sped off, once again running from what could have been.

*

Dean was sulking under a pile of blankets in his bed when there was a knock at his door.

He ignored it.

After a few moments of silence, the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time.

Grumbling to himself, Dean threw the blankets off and trudged down the stairs, flinging open the door with a scowl.

A person with nearly combed hair was standing on the doorstep holding a six-pack of beer in one hand and had a sticker on his shirt that said, ‘Hello, my name is Jimmy’.

“Very funny.” Dean said flatly.

“It’s not funny. It’s just in case you try to kiss me or something.” Jimmy held up the six-pack expectantly. “Can I come in?”

Dean didn’t appreciate the ribbing, but he didn’t mind the beer.

And after accosting him twice he might as well let the guy do what he wanted.

“Yeah, whatever.” Dean grumbled and left the door open as he walked back inside and flopped onto his couch. “Why are you here? Don’t you hate me?”

Jimmy hummed as he set the beer down on the coffee table and took a seat opposite Dean.

“I don’t not hate you.” He said with a shrug. “But last time we talked you were trying to convince me to chain myself to a comet again and I can’t say I appreciated it.”

Dean grunted in acknowledgment.

“I’ve been in heaven for a while now. It’s nice here. I take a yoga class with my wife.” Jimmy smiled at him. “I think I’m in a much better mental space now to consider liking you, especially if we’re going to be neighbors.”

Dean winced.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like Jimmy, it was just… that was Cas’s face. It wasn’t , but it was. Was he really going to have to be constantly taunted with it?

“Look man - I’m sorry about - you know. That.” Dean waved a hand in the air generally. “But you don’t have to do all this. I’ll stop harassing you.”

“That would be nice,” Jimmy said, opening one of the cans and taking a swig, “So, considering the things you’ve said to me, I take it he finally told you he loved you?”

Dean paused, still raw every time he thought about it.

“You knew?”

Jimmy smirked.

“That angel’s love for you permeated both of our beings so potently I’m amazed I don’t love you.” Jimmy said, like it was the kind of fact you could drop casually. “Though even I will admit, as a happily married heterosexual man, that having a man as handsome as you proclaim your love to me in the middle of a grocery store was very exciting.”

Dean dropped his head into his hands and groaned loudly.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Jimmy said, “That first one was pretty good. I’m sure he’s going to love it.”

“He’s never gonna hear it.” Dean muttered.

“Sure he will. You’ve already practiced it twice.”

“I can’t find him!” Dean said, and looked back up, “He’s here somewhere, and I can’t find him. It’s killing me.”

Jimmy held out a beer can.

��Good thing you’re already dead.”

Begrudgingly, Dean accepted the beer and opened it.

“I just. . . I just wanna see him again.” Dean took a long drink. “I want to talk to him. Tell him everything. Share everything. If he wants that.”

Dean let out a long breath, expecting Jimmy to interject with a quip.

He looked over at him when nothing happened, and Jimmy was smiling at him in a way that Dean could only describe as ‘fond’.

“What?” Dean said, indignantly.

“Nothing.” Jimmy said innocently. “You’re just not what I expected.”

Dean looked away.

“Anyway, you asked why I’m here,” Jimmy took another drink, “I’ve seen Castiel.”

“What?” Dean jumped to his feet, beer can dropped to the floor and forgotten about. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“I’m an enigma,” Jimmy shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the plush chair, “Anyway, I wanted to let you know as someone who has literally been in Castiel’s head - I'm pretty sure I know the reason he’s not showing himself to you.”

“Well, fucking spill.”

Jimmy paused.

“Why do you love him?”

Of all the things Dean had been expecting Jimmy to say - this wasn’t it.

Dean sat back down.

“Why?” He asked, a little breathless. “Why does it matter?”

Jimmy shrugged again.

“I guess -” Dean said, trying to unspool his emotions from the knot they’d made in his heart, “He’s - he’s Cas. He cares . . . so much about everyone and - and he’s selfless and kind and he fucking saved me in more ways than just one. He’s always been there for me and Sam and he’s just… he’s just. He’s just good . I’ll never deserve him, but I want to try.”

Dean sucked in a deep breath.

“He pulls me away from the edge, man. I just love him.”

Jimmy nodded once, set down his beer can, and in a bizarre turn of events, began yelling at Dean’s ceiling.

“Did you hear that, Castiel? Not one goddamn thing about how you look! Nothing about me or my vessel!”

Dean stared, dumbfounded.

“Wh-”

“He doesn’t care what you look like! Can you please just come talk to him so I can stop playing marriage counselor for you two?”

Care how he - what?  

What was happening?

Before Dean could fully compile all of the new information, there was a hesitant knock at the front door.

Dean whipped his head towards Jimmy, who was smiling in satisfaction.

Nearly tripping over himself, Dean rushed to the door faster than he’d rushed towards anything in his life, and swung it open.

In front of him was the wavelength of celestial intent that Dean had always known existed inside of the vessel of Jimmy Novak - the glint of angelic creation he’d caught glimpses of in the glow of his eyes and in his healing touch. The being was massive and stretched high into the sky with what was (maybe three? four??) pairs of wings scraping the clouds even further above everything. He was flaming rings and rotating divine faces that Dean could barely comprehend - he was raw power and all-knowing eyes.

On the front of his form was a sticker that read, ‘Hello, my name is Castiel’.  

“. . . Hello Dean.” The voice rumbled through the air like thunder.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I - yes. I’m sorry. I lost my vessel to the Empty - this was the only way -”

“I love you, too.”

The rotating faces on the form towering above him froze in place.

“I do! I love you, Cas. Okay? You didn’t let me say it back before - and if I’ve ever made you feel like I couldn’t love you back, I’m so fucking sorry. You deserve better.”

“. . . you love me?”

Dean nodded, his heart clenching at the disbelief he could hear in Cas’s voice.

“ Even as this?”

“You’ve always been this.” Dean swallowed. “I fell in love with the angel, not the vessel.”

“Dean. . .”

Dean smiled up at him in understanding.

“Just a shame that we’ll have to get a bigger house.”

“Oh I can -”

And as Dean looked on, Castiel began to shrink. The form didn’t change - he was still as striking as he’d been the first time with his wings and halos and faces still firmly in place - but he was now maybe one foot taller than Dean instead of one hundred.

“- make myself more manageable.”

Dean grinned and took a step forward, giddy and thrilled that this was finally, actually happening

He reached up, resting a hand on one of the divine faces.

“Bite-sized.” He murmured fondly.

Jimmy’s voice cut through the moment from somewhere behind them.

“Just so you two know - I. Am. Moving!”

[emile-hides]

Crybaby imagines

I can’t find any BNHA X Reader blogs with their requests open, so heck it. Make the content you want to see in the world.

MHA Blonde boys react to reader crying (for various reasons)

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

1-A is an amazing bunch

It sort of just all hit you like a truck, really

How much 1-A had grown, how much they’d overcame

You’re not even entirely sure what sparked the thought process

But once it stared, you couldn’t stop

You were just so?? Proud??? Amazed???

Suddenly you were crying at your desk in the teacher’s lounge

Quiet, heavy tears

Your co-workers took notice, but it was Toshinori who approched your first asking what was wrong

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying

When you get into the why he’s all ears

He sits next to you and is soon joining in on the kid’s progress

He talks mostly about Bakugo and Midoriya, you go on about Asui and Koda

It turns to laughing and quietly bullying the kids for a moment as you two enjoy some of the sillier memories

Soon Toshinori, too, has tears in his eyes

He sobs more than you did

He’s just so proud of these kids!!

You feel like an old married couple talking about their 30-something kids living far from home

Kind of silly considering they’re all 15 and currently in class right down the hall

You two have to go see them during lunch break

Present Mic

Crying in Solidarity

You stood with Hizashi in front of a grave of a kid you never knew on an overcast day

He’d normally make a comment about the weather matching the mood but...

Not now

His fists were clenched, and though his smile stood strong and his glasses hid his eyes

They couldn’t catch his tears

You held his hand in silence and pretended not to notice the falling of his facade 

It happens very seldom

He was shaking, you could hear his breath hitch hard despite his attempts to remain calm

You didn’t know this Shirokumo kid, you’d never met him, you couldn’t pick him out in a crowd if you had to

You didn’t even know who he was to Hizashi

But you knew it tore him up inside that he was buried here

You knew he kept his emotions well contained for everything else but him

You pulled Hizashi a bit closer, letting him lean onto you as tears began to run down your cheeks

The two of you stood in silence and cried on this, an overcast day

The weather really did match your mood.

Fatgum

Crying in relief

The hospital door opened with a loud slam

You didn’t really mean to slam it so hard but now wasn’t the time to go apologizing to inanimate objects for being a little rough

Your voice shrilled even louder than the door the name of the patient laying on the bed in the center of the room

Taishiro looked up with a face of ‘Oh shit’ which was the correct face to have

You were mad for all of the time it took to yell about how worried you were

FIRST OF ALL he didn’t even call to tell you he was in the hospital, you got that information from Tamaki

Second, you barely even know what HAPPENED to land him here

And THIRD,

Nope. Anger’s gone. Evaporated like a puddle in mid July.

Taishiro had sat up in his bed with a nervous smile, peppering in the nicknames and speaking in the gentle voice as he reached out to console you

Just seeing him sit up, his arms bandaged lightly around the wrist

It all just came crashing in

He was fine. 

Tears over flowed as you cried a bit louder than you had yelled previously

Hiccuping and gasping out how worried you were and how mad you still wanted to be

Taishiro just laughed an apology as he hugged you, thankful for your concern

He promised to call next time

You found yourself yelling at him to never do this again

Aoyama

Crying on command

Acting was something you had mastered

More or less anyway

You dove head first into a role and you were damn good at it

But everyone has weaknesses

You’d locked yourself in Aoyama’s room, going over lines and choreography for some little play in the park you two had signed up for

Now you sat on his floor as he painted your nails, glaring daggers into the script

You had to cry. 

It seemed so easy. Think of something sad and cry over it on stage. Simply.

and yet your eyes remained dry, your stage make-up perfect

Aoyama had been couching you, weeping all sorts of tears for your amusment

It wasn’t helping

You turned your glare to Aoyama, who was completely enthralled in drawing tiny art pieces into your nails

God he was bright

....bright.....

You looked directly up at the light on the ceiling and stared

Your eyes wide you forced yourself not to blink

It hurts

And it worked

You looked back to Aoyama with tears streaming down your face and searing pain in your retina

He applauded your dedication

Ojiro

It’s all just a lot

You weren’t really sure when it all became so much

But everything you’d been working at and training for suddenly weighed more than you could bare

You found yourself in the middle of the UA empty halls, flat on the ground on your stomach

Tripping was the breaking point

The straw that broke the camel’s back, as they say

You just started sobbing

When you heard footsteps coming you just kind of... wiggled out of the way

Pressing yourself to the wall you just continued to cry to yourself, curled in a ball, expecting the other person to just pass you by

Instead a soft white handkerchief gently pressed to your cheek, followed by a quiet “Are you okay?”

You were not okay.

Ojiro sat himself beside you as you wiped your face, continuing to sob

You didn’t offer an explanation, he didn’t ask for one

He sat in the hall quietly with you, his tail giving the occasional swish to brush your cheek of tears

The silence gave to time to catch your breath, and realize class probably started a long time ago

When you got up to be on your way, he joined you

He didn’t offer to walk you where you needed to go, he simply did

His quiet wave, his silent smile, his patient glances at you

It all made everything feel just a bit lighter

The next time you’d see Ojiro in the halls, he’d smile at you

And he’d be delighted if you could smile back

Kaminari

Crying from shock

It was just a little zap to the hip, a little bee sting

He’d been doing it to everyone in class, learned it from some stupid tiktok

When it was your turn to get stung, you let out the loudest yelp in the class

He laughed at first, proudly proclaiming how he’d gotten you

Until you whipped to him with fury in your eyes, along with tears

His panicked “Shit, wait, I’m sorry” fell on deaf ears as you quickly gave him a return jab in the hip

Without the actual shock part it probably wasn’t as painful

So you did it a few more times for good measure

Then he jabbed you again

And it was on

Jabs to the hip turned to jabs to the gut, armpit, neck, even right dead center in his chest

You were both in pain and sure to be covered in bruises when Iida finally separated you two

It was hard to see with the tears swelling in both your eyes

But when Denki made direct eye contact with you before giving a glance to Iida, you knew

You nodded, an evil smirk crossing your face

The two of you took your index and middle fingers, driving them quickly and roughly into the class rep’s hips simultaneously

His yelp had the entire class laughing

It then also had the entire class in study hall for the rest of break

Bakugo

He’s just kind of a dick

Standing outside of class 1-A you felt as though your heart was beating in your throat

When the door opened you jumped out of your skin as a green haired boy came out at full speed

He managed to stop on a dime before slamming into you though

You choked out the courage to ask him if Katsuki Bakugo was in class

The kid before you stared in shock before turning around and calling for a “Kacchan”, telling him someone was here to see him

You glanced in the door and watched as several people pried the man you wanted to see from his seat, shoving him forcefully to the door

They all then slammed the door behind him, keeping the green haired kid who seemed in a rush to leave trapped inside

He barked a what at you that made you reconsider all your choices

Still. You swallowed all your courage, and said what you came here to say.

You confessed your feelings to Bakugo, bravely. 

He stared at you with a face of utter confusion, and it managed to catch you a bit off guard

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond

Which he, of course, didn’t.

So he responded the only way he really knows how

Anger.

“WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU?!”

He called you some background extra. What gave you even the slightest though he’d want to be with some nobody he didn’t even know the name of

Within seconds of his screaming the 1-A doors slammed open yet again

The group who’d peeled Bakugo from his seat before jumped from the room and began wrestling him into submission, berating him for his treatment of you

But you were inclined to agree with him

You told them it was fine. He was right, you were just some nobody

You couldn’t stop your voice from shaking, tears streaming from your eyes as you gripped tightly at your shirt

Not knowing really what else to do, you turned and ran away

It was well over a few hours later, and you were still crying alone in the court yard

You flinched at the sound of footsteps approaching you. You closed your eyes and planned to make a run for it somewhere else to avoid bothering anyone

“Hey, dumbass,” a hand placed on your forehead, pulling you back to lean on the person behind you, “You could do a lot better than an ass like me.”

You glanced at Bakugo, who was looking far into the distance, his ears red

You cried and apologized. He didn’t say much else, but his hand remained on you, keeping you in place

You found yourself invited out more, running around with Bakugo and his friends, being rowdy and dumb as teens should be

Your crush on Katsuki Bakugo soon became a distant memory as he grew to be one of your closest friends

Honenuki

Yawning

You flopped dramatically onto the common room couch and let out the loudest, most drawn out sigh you could muster

This act of pure drama drew the attention of Juzo Honenuki, who simply chuckled at your antics

You stretched like a cat across the couch, reaching for him lazily with one hand, you swatted at the book he’d been comfortably reading

He gave another chuckle and inquired what you were after

You answered with an equally dramatic and drawn out yawn, bringing tears to your eyes as you again stretched to him

You then closed your eyes and snuggled into a couch pillow

Honenuki’s hand stretched across the couches and found itself on your head, giving gentle pets back and forth

Once he found himself a good stopping point, Honenuki put his bookmark in place and snapped the book closed

He gave a stretch and a yawn before encouraging you to your feet

You lazily tangled your arms around one of his and draped yourself over him

The two of you walked to your separate dorm rooms arm in arm, occasionally letting out more and more exasperated yawns and sleepy giggles

Monoma

Crying from pain

This was... probably your fault?

You remembered running into Awase from class 1-B while going a bit too fast though the halls

Next thing you knew you were in front of him, on your ass, staring up at him upside down

It took a minute for the pain to register, but as soon as it did tears stung your eyes

You couldn’t even really say anything as Awase’s eyes filled with panic when he’d realized what he’d done, quickly dropping your arm and stepping back, probably planning to make a run for it

The is until his blond classmate came up behind him, pressuring him to apologize in a loud, negging tone

When Awase again avoided your eyes, opting to shove his hands in his pockets as he glared at the wall, Monoma dropped to his knees and offered you assistance

The question of “Do you need to go to the nurse?” was accompanied with a handkerchief dabbed at your eyes

Monoma helped you to your feet, apologizing for his classmate, assuring you you were fine and didn’t need to report this to a teacher because you were clearly fine look at you you’re fine

I mean you weren’t bleeding so... Yeah? You were fine.

He sounded like he’d be the one in trouble if you told someone about Awase self defense flipping you over his shoulder

When he offered again to walk you to the nurse, you declined

He was right, you were fine, just a bit sore

You wiped the tears from your eyes and thanked him for his concern as you walked passed him

You also apologized to Awase for bumping into him, though he just huffed a response

You didn’t get very far when you heard quick steps following close behind

Monoma was just checking in to make sure you for sure weren’t going to tell anyone class 1-B’s Awase threw you like a rag doll

He also just figured while he was here he’d ask if there was anything he could do to make up for this incident

Like... buy you lunch sometime.... Or take you out to a nice cafe he knows after school... maybe...?

He just. Didn’t want you to think class B does hit and runs like this on all the pretty students

Mirio

Crying from laughing

Your sides hurt

You gripped onto yourself as you leaned onto Mirio, cackling harder than you had in a while

He was retelling some jokes he’d gone over with Sir Nighteye at his internship today, regaling you, Tamaki, and Nejire with perfect one-liners and horrid puns

You all were laughing far too hard for this late at night

Tears pricked your eyes as you slapped at Mirio’s leg, gasping for breath you begged for a time out

You have the most contagious laugh, Mirio was positive his jokes only ever landed because you laughed at them so easily

When you finally caught your breath you sat up, rubbing giggly tears from your eyes

You gave a glance around the room and found Tamaki doing the same, though his tears were from the yawn he’d just given

All three of you watched Tamaki adorably shifts as he rubbed the tired from his eyes, something he flushed over when he’d finally noticed the attention

Nejire declared that meant bedtime and hopped from her seated position, pulling Tamaki along with her

In a matter of moments she was dragging the tired boy out of the room to their own dorms

You and Mirio chuckled at her antics before you too got up to get going

Mirio offered to walk you to your dorm, which wasn’t far down the hall, but he made such a show of it how could you say no?

Of course he spent the whole walk telling even more terrible jokes that continued to crack you up

By the time you’d gotten to your dorm you were so giggly you couldn’t see straight

Mirio waved as he turned and walked the 5 feet back to his own room

He then turned around and waved again, claiming he already misses you

You giggled at him and returned to your own room

He loved your laugh.

[nano--raptor]

Friends who laugh together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Biker & Bartender AU)

Words: 2340

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut, sex, oral sex, drug use, alcohol, cursing

A/N: This one was fun. Written for @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ ongoing drunk drabbles with this anon prompt:

Bucky and reader smoking weed and having high giggly sex

I hope you like it anon! Thanks everyone for reading, and don’t take things too seriously!😘

Do not click ‘keep reading’ if you are under 18. Thank you.

You met Bucky at his place, 2:30 am, after he got off work at the bar. Walking into his garage, you made yourself at home, grabbing a beer from the mini fridge and plopping down onto the old couch. A few empty cans, a wrench, an ashtray and some darts sat on the table beside you. After cracking your beer and taking a sip, letting it linger on your tongue for a moment, you  picked up one of the darts, twirling it in your fingers. The dartboard hung on the wall across from you, and you threw it, amused but not surprised when it missed its mark, piercing the drywall below the board.

"Oops," you giggled to yourself, taking another sip. A familiar rumbling soon started to grow louder, piercing the quiet of night. Then the garage door roared to life and slowly opened, as Bucky pulled into the driveway on his motorcycle. He smirked upon noticing you, already there waiting for him, and slowly rolled into the garage. He killed the engine and sat back, the door rolling closed behind him.

"Make yourself at home," he chided with a wink, kicking down the stand and swinging his leg over. He grabbed his own beer, pausing to examine the dart in the wall, then giving you a stern stare. You shrugged your shoulders, sipping your beer and feigning innocence. Bucky shook his head, sitting down beside you and sinking into the couch.

"Long night?" He nodded, taking a pull from the can and leaning his head back.

"Busy. But good tips tonight." He grinned, that lazy sideways grin that always made your stomach flip flop when he flashed it at you. He might be your best friend, but that didn’t mean you didn’t think he was sexy as hell.

"Well with you behind the bar, I can imagine." You bumped his shoulder playfully, sipping again and then picking up the wrench to wave playfully in front of his face. "You never put this away. You're gonna lose it." Bucky snatched the wrench from you, waving it back.

"I always know where this one is. And right now, it's right here." He leaned over you then, stretching across your lap to put it back on the side table, and you breathed him in, always loving when his scent surrounded you. "Here, where it belongs." Then he laughed, sitting back and smirking at you again before taking another long sip of his beer. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his throat, watching it move as he swallowed and having another sip of your own. Whew.

The two of you chatted about your day, you told him about your day at work and he told you about his. When Bucky got up to grab another beer, he stopped by his workbench, grabbing a small container from the shelf. He sat down again and pulled out supplies to roll a joint, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his fingers as you watched him. He licked the paper to seal it shut, catching your eye and smirking, and you felt heat rush to your face. He always caught you staring. He sat back and lit the joint, puffing on it, then taking a long pull and slowly exhaling, as if he was breathing out the stress and tension he carried from the day.

He offered it to you, and you accepted, holding his gaze as you raised it to your lips. Smoking took the edge off, you’d often meet Bucky after a shift to just chill and unwind from your day. Sometimes you’d chat, sometimes you’d just listen to music. Feeling the stress melt away was therapeutic.

The smoke swirled in the air as you passed the joint back and forth, until it was gone and you were feeling that familiar, comfortable high. Bucky finished off his beer and set the can down, then looked at you pointedly before slowly leaning in to kiss you. It was easy to fall into it, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, the taste of beer on his tongue. His hand was on your thigh and when the kiss broke, you couldn’t help the wave of giggles that started. 

“Buck what are you doing!” Bucky sat back, grinning as if it was obvious.

“Kissing you.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I wanted to,” he said simply with a shrug.

“Is that all you want to do?” Bucky grinned, shaking his head and you couldn’t hold back your giggles. “You look fuckin’ adorable right now.”

“Adorable? That’s you darlin’. I’m not adorable, I'm… manly… and handsome.”

“Yeah okay Mr Manly Handsome,” you said with a playful roll of your eyes. “But I still think you’re adorable and you can’t change my mind.” Bucky’s eyes flashed then as she stood, suddenly picking you up, and you squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing!?”

“I wanna show you something.”

“Is it… your bed?” You laughed out loud at your own joke, clutching onto his shoulder and back as best you could.

“Maybe…” Bucky couldn’t hide the grin in his own voice as he carried you inside, definitely heading towards his room. Then he dropped you on the bed and you laughed again as you bounced, pillows bouncing off onto the floor.

“The pillows!” You reached over to swipe at one, trying to reach it, and squealed when you felt Bucky’s lips press against your skin, exposed from your shirt riding up. Then he was pushing it up further, crawling over your body, and your shirt was stuck awkwardly under your armpits, sliding up further to cover your face and you fell over on the bed, clutching Bucky’s arms.

“Buck I can’t see! Oh my god.” You couldn’t stop your giggles now as his lips brushed over your stomach, it tickled, and then he was shoving his head underneath your shirt. It had popped over yours as well and now you were staring at him as you both hid under your shirt.

“It’s a fort,” he grinned, before tracing his tongue over your breast along the edge of your bra.

“This is the worst fort ever!” You wrestled your shirt off all the way, then started tugging at his, not having much luck as he held you down to keep kissing and licking your skin. “Bucky! Take your clothes off!” You tried to roll him off of you, starting to call out about fairness as you were shedding clothes, but he hadn’t yet.

“Fine okay! Here,” he sat up on his knees and stripped his shirt off, his jeans hanging low on his hips, and he was a sight. “Happy now?” You nodded, biting your lip and trailing your eyes down his torso. Damn this boy and his beautiful body. You hummed, then voiced only half of your thought out loud.

“Ohhh, body…” Bucky raised an eyebrow, and you laughed again. “I mean, I like it! Damn, look at you!” You pushed him down on the bed then and straddled his hips, leaning down to kiss him, fumbling with the button on his jeans.. When you discovered that you wouldn’t be able to push them off, you moved your focus to your own, trying to be sexy for him while taking them off, but failing at that as well.

“Need a hand?” Bucky asked, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“No…” you pouted, finally freeing yourself from the confines of jeans. “But now it’s your turn.” Bucky obliged, stripping his pants off, and you practically drooled at the sight of him, hard and tight in his boxers. “Yeah Bucky,” you breathed, and then you were straddling him again, cupping his face and kissing him hard, rocking your hips against him and suddenly you were overcome with need. You didn’t even realize you were whimpering until his fingers were pushing your panties down, and he rolled you over, pulling them off and tossing them over his shoulder.

You were floating, eyes locked on his, and you could hear your heartbeat rushing in your ears. Bucky held your gaze, smirking, as he lowered himself between your legs and licked a stripe over your pussy, moaning at the taste of you.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already.” You just whined again and wiggled your hips, trying to get more attention from him. 

“Less talking,” you teased, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. He dipped down again, curling his tongue against you, into you, over your clit, back and forth, and your grip tightened in his hair and he brought you closer to the edge. You started panting his name, wiggling underneath him, and he held you down with firm hands. You couldn’t help bucking your hips, arching your back and crying out as your orgasm quickly washed over you, warmth and tingles spreading through your entire body.

Collapsing back to the bed, you lay panting, and Bucky’s hand smoothed over your stomach while he pressed kisses and kitten licks to your throbbing heat. Then he turned his head, kissed the inside of your thigh… and blew a raspberry on your skin.

You shrieked, curling into a ball and nearly kneeing him in the chin in the process. Your shriek turned into laughter as he crawled over you, blowing raspberries over every part of your skin he could reach.

“Bucky! Bucky stop oh my god! What the fuck!” He laughed with you, crawling up to kiss your lips, and down your jaw to your neck, but now you were squirmy and ticklish and you tried to get away from him.

“Nuh uh, you come here beautiful,” he drawled, licking back up your throat to kiss your jaw and then your lips. You were finally able to catch your breath and you gazed up at him, his hooded eyes dark and sparkling as he leaned in to kiss you again. Then you grabbed his jaw and turned his head, licking a hot stripe over his cheek instead.

“Got you!!” His eyes flashed again and he grabbed your wrists, easily pinning them down with one hand. He held himself up with the other, then ground his hips down against yours. You couldn’t help but moan at the feel of him, the need for him flaring up in your belly again.

“Do you want it baby?” he teased. It was obvious that you did, but you stuck your tongue out, asking him the same question instead, though a little more breathlessly than you would have liked.

“Do you want it?”

“Yeah, yeah I do. You’re so gorgeous.” Then he was kissing you more tenderly, pushing his boxers down and lining himself up. He pushed into you with a groan and your head fell back, breathy moans falling from your own lips as he moved against you.

“Bucky… Bucky, oh my god.”

“Yeah baby, fuck you feel good.

“Yeah you do too. This is amazing…” Your voice trailed off as he slid into you, then slowly pulled out again, sending heat tingling through your body when he sank back in. You had to grab onto him, wrapping your arms around him, wrapping your legs around his waist, you felt like you were floating, like you were heading towards pure bliss and you never wanted it to stop.

Bucky picked up his pace, grunting softly into the crook of your neck and you were completely losing yourself in him, until you started mumbling.

“Fuck, bucky… fuck, oh god, oh god… fucky, fuck… I…” Bucky’s pace faltered and he snorted against your skin, and then you froze. Your brain felt sluggish in the best way, high from the weed and from Bucky surrounding you, all over you, until you realized what you’d said and burst out laughing.

“Buck!” you snorted, unable to control your laughter. “Your name rhymes with… with fuck!” He twitched inside you and you squealed again, still giggling as you held him tightly.

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky said with a laugh, kissing your nose. “And fuckin’ adorable.” When your laughter died down some, you gazed up at him, his eyes crinkled with his grin, dark, filled with warmth and desire, hair falling around his face. He was beautiful.

“And you’re fuckin’ handsome, baby. Mister Handsome. As. Fuck.” You pulled his mouth down to yours and kissed him with a smile, feeling his own smile against yours, and you clenched around him, your grin turning devilish as he growled in response.

“Ohhhh darlin’. Now that feels fuckin’ amazing.” His head fell back and his eyes were closed as he started moving against you again, then he leaned forward until his lips found your skin, and he was kissing and nipping at your collarbones, your shoulders, your neck, thrusting harder, pushing deeper, as the pressure started to build.

“Yes, Bucky please, oh god yes!” Your cries rang out, nails digging into Bucky’s skin as he chased the end, and he angled his hips just enough that you started to see stars, that wave breaking and crashing wildly over you again. As you fluttered around him, squeezing his cock impossibly tight, Bucky roared, fucking you through it until he was spilling inside you. You could feel every ripple of muscle beneath your hands, every flex against your skin, every pulse of him inside of you, and it was so fucking good that you almost whited out.

When he collapsed against you, panting, a sheen of sweat covering his body, you whimpered, wiggling against him, feeling completely blissed out, but also sensitive and tingly all over. Bucky rolled to his side, pulling you against him and nuzzling into your neck again.

“Baby you’re so good. You make me feel amazing…” He kissed your neck and pulled a blanket over the two of you, and you snuggled against him, trying to curl into him and much as you could.

“Mmm, thanks Bucky. My fucky Bucky, Mr manly, handsome and adorable.” Bucky snorted against your skin again, and the giggles overtook you both once again.

*Follow @nano--raptor-writes​ for my taglist!*

[chiliiscereal]

chosen last: part three

The people asked and so they shall receive

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/650808822043115520/chosen-last

https://chiliiscereal.tumblr.com/post/651201066386554880/chosen-last-part-two

Summary: a boy takes notice of reader for the first time and Donnie is worried that he’s bad news. Little do both of them know, he’s right

Warning: mentions of attempted rape

——-

You felt so much better about yourself when your birthday was over. It was honestly one of the best you’d ever had. Better than the ones your friends planned anyway. You still went, but it was nothing like the party that the turtles threw. You didn’t think it could get any better.

Until, that is, something happened that almost made you change your mind.

You friend put a picture of you and her, together, up on Snapchat.

And... for the first time in your life... a guy took notice of you.

It wasn’t much. It was just “who’s that? Low key cute. Whats their snap?”

That happened to your friends.

Never to you.

Even more surprising, your friend gave him your snap.

Eric.

Eric was his name.

And he also went to your school!

You were incredibly nervous about this. Every single time a boy took interest in you it never seemed to be what your thought it was.

Last time a boy took interest in you it was ACTUALLY so they could get with your friend. That, my friends, was two years ago. Your friends blasted through boys like there was no tomorrow. But you? You’d never had someone interested in you like that.

Until now.

You talked to him and... honestly... you felt like there was something there.

He asked a lot about you and just seemed like the one, you know? You both shared the same interest in shows! You both enjoyed the same music!

Whenever he responded to you, you just couldn’t help but feel elated.

You would fall back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, feeling like this was a scene from a movie.

He didn’t wait for twenty minutes to respond to you.

He acknowledged every single thing you said.

And when he met up with you after school...

Wow.

Just wow.

He was incredibly handsome and polite.

He even held doors open for you!

You found yourself meeting up with him again and again.

It made you feel so... important.

Unfortunately, the turtles didn’t feel the same way.

————

“Who ya talkin’ to?” Leo leaned closer to look over your shoulder from his spot beside you on the couch.

It was movie night with the boys and April.

You brought you phone to your chest to obscure his view. “Hey hey hey back off!” You playfully shoved him away. “Just a friend.”

Mikey gave you a shit eating grin when he noticed the smile slipping onto your face. “Just a friend huh?” He pulled himself off the floor and reached for your phone. “Let me see let me see!”

You held it away from him to. “Woah this is my phone! Get away!”

A metal claw snatched it from your hand, retracting back to Donnie.

“And is this ‘friend’ a boy or a girl?” He opened your phone. “Ugh, what’s your password?”

You leapt off the couch and tried to grab your device back. “Does it matter?”

Donnie tapped away at the buttons, using his metal claws from his battle shell to keep you away. “No, it doesn’t matter unless it’s a BOY.” You phone buzzed slightly as it opened to your home screen. “Aha, I am in!”

Mikey and Leo both crawled over to their soft shelled brother to observe from behind him.

“Donnie, give it back.” You ordered, looking to April for help. She just shrugged and continued watching with a smirk. “Guys, come on! It’s not a big deal!”

Raph pulled himself off the floor and placed his hands on his hips. “Alright, jokes over; give the phone back.”

Donnie groaned. “Come on! I’m so close to figuring out who y/n’s talking to!”

Raph gave him a stern look. “Now. It’s private and obviously Y/n doesn’t want you looking through it.”

Donnie, Mikey, and Leo all gave him giant puppy eyes.

Raph simply held out his hand.

Donnie sighed. “Fine. Here.”

You sighed as well but in relief.

Raph took it from him, glancing down at your phone. To your dismay, it was open up to messages. “Eric Sherrin?” He asked in confusion.

“AHA!” Donnie shouted in triumph. “A name is all I need!” He began typing in the device on his wrist.

“Raph!” You accused angrily.

Ugh what were you gonna do now??

You’d never hear the end of this.

“Hey! Raph’s on your side! I didn’t know he could find out with just a name!” He held up his hands in defense.

“Eric?” April asked as she swiped through her phone. “Does he go to our school?”

You glared at Donnie before you decided whether or not to share that.

He shrugged. “Hey, I already have his social media up and every piece of information I could find. Whether or not you say will change nothing.”

“Fine.” You growled. “Yes, he goes to our school. He’s a mutual friend with my other friends.”

April raised a brow. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Well it doesn’t.”

April was dead set on despising your friends. You knew she had good reason but you didn’t need it brought up now.

Leo took the computer that Donnie had sent all the information to, scrolling through Eric’s social media. “Wow, there are a lot of pictures of him holding fish.” He snorted. “Does he think that’s gonna impress people or something?”

“I’ve never understood the appeal.” Donnie shook his head. “So what? You killed an animal good for you.”

“I think it’s about killing a BIG animal.” Leo squinted at the screen. “There’s also lots of pictures of him with other girls.”

“Guys can you just stop?” You placed your hands on your hips. “It’s sweet that you’re trying to make sure he’s not some idiot but you’re invading his privacy-!”

“Woah, look what I found in his records from the school.” Donnie waved his brothers closer.

Even Raph and April did so.

“He harassed at girl at school?” Mikey repeated as he read the screen. “Really?”

“Yeah no this guy’s bad news.” Donnie shook his head in disappointment. “Y/n, give me your phone. I’ll block him for you.” He even reached his hand out expectantly.

You held your phone closer. “No, that’s just a rumor that spread at school.”

The boys stopped what they were doing.

“You knew?” Leo narrowed his eyes. “And you’re still interested?”

“He told me that the teachers didn’t believe him.” You responded as you crossed your arms. “Some girl made it up cause she didn’t like him.”

“You can’t take that risk.” Raph crossed his arms.

“Raph, I thought you were in my side!” You protested.

“That was before Raph found out that the guy harassed someone.” He defended. “Come on, you know this can’t end good.”

Your stomach burned with anger.

Anger that they felt they could order you around like that.

That they wouldn’t even let you figure it out yourself.

That this might end just like every other romantic interest would.

“Why won’t you just let me handle this myself?” You stuffed your hands in your pockets and flopped back down in the couch.

Mikey crawled into the spot next to you, wrapping his arms around you. “You’re one of our best friends! We don’t want anything to happen to you!” He gave you wide innocent eyes as if that would erase your anger.

Well... it did.

Curse him and his adorable eyes.

You rolled your eyes and hugged him back. “I know. I just want to figure this out myself.” You gave Donnie a hard glare as your rested your chin on Mikey’s shoulder.

“Fine.” He closed all the tabs on his computer grudgingly. “But I know this is just gonna end in heartbreak.”

“What a vote of confidence.” Leo snorted and plopped down in the spot next to you.

He smirked when you ignored him, still hugging Mikey.

“Hey, come on, you know you can’t stay mad at this face.” He leaned against you dramatically. “I’m the face man! You can’t resist me!” He pulled you away from Mikey and draped his arm over your shoulder. “You know you love me.”

You turned your head away from him, more playful now than spiteful.

“Come onnnnn...” he smirked. “You love meeee...”

You shoved him off the couch with a laugh. “I’m still thinking that over.”

Raph quickly took Leo’s seat as his younger brother rubbed the spot he’d landed on.

“No hard feelings?” Raph rested his arm on the couch behind you as he started the movie back up.

“Fine. No hard feelings.”

Leo moved so he was sitting on the floor and leaning against your legs.

You couldn’t stay mad at them. Well, except Donnie. You could very well stay mad at Donnie.

And it seemed that Donnie could stay mad at you as well. He left the room with all his tech, grumbling something under his breath.

“I already know how this is gonna end.” He grumbled.

“Love you to, Donnie.” You muttered, sinking into the couch.

Whatever.

He’d get over it soon enough.

————

Donnie didn’t get over it.

Whenever you came over to hang out he brought it up again casually. Well, as casually as Donnie could be, which wasn’t very casual at all.

“Ugh, this game sucks!” Mikey shouted at the tv once.

“Not as much as Eric What’s-his-face’s record.” He’d commented, giving you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

Or even:

“Ugh you can’t trust those pop up ads.” Raph told Leo when his phone had downloaded a virus after he clicked an ad.

“Just like how you can’t trust Eric.” He’d ran into the room to spit that out.

If Raph ever asked how things were going with Eric, Donnie either magically appeared next to him with a hopeful look or disappear with a groan.

You and Eric weren’t even together.

But... you hoped you would be soon.

He invited you to a party that Friday! And he’d specified that he’s invited you as his date.

Your friends were excited, surprisingly. They wanted to help you find an outfit and everything.

Finally, you felt like things were going right.

Why couldn’t Donnie just be happy for you?

——-

“Why won’t you come?” You begged April as she flopped down onto your bed.

“You’ve got Eric and all of your other friends.” She waved you off. “Besides, you know I hate parties.” She sat up slightly. “And Eric gives me the heebie jeebies.”

You rolled your eyes and held out a dress. “Yeah, yeah. Fine, I won’t make you.”

April touched the fabric of the dress with a frown. “Is this what your friends picked out for you? I thought you didn’t like dresses?”

You shrugged. “They said Eric would like it and that it looked good on me.”

April fully sat up now. “But you’re gonna be so uncomfortable in that!”

“I mean, it’s supposed to be pretty, not comfy, right?” You shrugged, slipping it on over your head. “Does it look good?” You gave her a small twirl.

“Of course it’s pretty... but its a little... much.” She shook her head. “Does Eric really deserve to see you in that?”

The last bit was playful but still...

“I think so.” You say down beside her. “I’m just so incredibly nervous and I don’t know if this is a bad idea.”

You felt exposed.

But, you also trusted that the people at the party could be trusted with that.

April draped her arm over your shoulder. “Well you look stunning.”

You smiled back at her. “Thanks.”

“Alright, girl, your party’s in twenty minutes. Ready to head out?” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the door.

You stood up and smoothed out the dress. “Ready.”

———

You stood in front of the house nervously. You could hear the music and see the lights and people dancing. You just didn’t know if you actually were ready.

“You look hot, y/n.” Your friend told you, glancing at one of your other friends. “He’s gonna love it.”

You didn’t really love it, but if he liked it then so would you.

“Hope so.” You muttered, checking your phone.

Donnie sent you a simple text:

Don’t trust Eric and keep pepper spray on hand.

Wow, such confidence.

You ignored it and stuffed your phone in the dress pocket. You didn’t need that. You needed all the confidence you could muster.

“Wow.” A voice said from behind you, causing you to jump.

There was Eric, dressed nicely and with a charming smile on his face.

“You look hot.” He grinned.

Your stomach fluttered. “Oh, thank... thank you!”! You smoothed it out nervously.

You didn’t know if your stomach felt this way out of nerves or out of feelings for him. You really couldn’t tell.

He placed his hand over your hip and pulled you to his side. “Well Let’s head on in! Can’t wait to show you off.”

Your stomach jumped. “Well, I just wanted to wait a little,” he opened the door and dragged you in, “oh okay!”

Your friends and Eric were at your side the whole time.

You still felt as if you were on display while you and your group were dancing.

You still felt like the dress was too short when you and Eric sat down on the couch.

You felt like he was staring at you when you noticed the couples in the room kissing and making out.

“You wanna head upstairs?” He asked as he took your hand.

Your heart jumped. “No, no I’m good. Really.”

“Come on.” He nodded his head in the direction of the stairs. “It’ll be fun!”

You shook your head. “No I don’t want to go upstairs.”

He looked disappointed but you stayed confident with your choice. You didn’t want that and you weren’t ready.

He recovered quickly and dropped your hand. “Alright! I’m just gonna go talk to a friend real quick, I’ll be back.”

You sighed in relief when you realized he wouldn’t push it on you.

He got up and you pulled out your phone, trying to decide if you wanted to text Donnie back.

You settled on typing:

Yeah yeah whatever.

You saw he read it but he didn’t respond.

What was with him?

Why couldn’t he just be happy?

You glanced up, noticing Eric talking to one of your friends. You noticed him glance back at you and then back at your friend. She handed him something and he left to go to the kitchen.

You went back to your phone, waiting to see if Donnie would respond.

You just wanted your friend back.

Why couldn’t he just... ugh no you had to stop asking that. He was being too judgemental and untrusting.

There was nothing untrustworthy about Eric.

He was just being crazy...

You glanced up again, noticing Eric at the drink table. Whatever it was your friend had given him, he was slipping it in his drink.

You looked closer.

It was some sort of... powder?

When he turned back around you immediately acted like you hadn’t been watching.

He made his way to you and sat down, a drink in each hand. “I thought you looked a little thirsty, so I got you a soda!”

He handed you the red cup enthusiastically.

No, he couldn’t be trying to spike your drink. He wouldn’t do that.

But he was looking at you so expectantly.

“Oh, thank you!” You swirled the soda suspiciously. “I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to corn syrup so... sorry.” You set the drink back down.

Again, he looked disappointed. Maybe even a little mad.

“Hey, We’re gonna go upstairs and play a game!” Your friend shouted from across the room. “Wanna join?”

“What game?” You asked, feeling incredibly nervous.

“Truth or dare!” She giggled. “You’ll love it!”

Eric jumped on that idea expectantly. “Come on lets go!”

“I don’t really...”

He pulled you up before you could even finish.

You wanted to stay where people could see you!

But... you WERE gonna be with your friends...

“Alright, Fine.” You settled. “I’ll go.”

“Awesome!”

You and your group headed up and down the hallway.

Your friend opened the door for you and let you in first. Eric followed closely behind you.

It was a bedroom. A very dark bedroom.

“Hey, We’re gonna head down to the bathroom and freshen up first.” One of your friends smirked. “You two have fun!”

“Wait, no-!”

They were already gone and the door was shut.

Eric had gotten you upstairs.

Alone.

————-

Donnie sighed, trying hard to focus on his work. “Why can’t y/n just listen to me.” He groaned to himself. “I’m just trying to help! How does that make me the bad guy?”

He continued wiring his latest invention, frustrated at how he kept messing up.

“It’s not gonna end well.” He growled. “It’s gonna end in heartbreak and I’m gonna have to pick up the pieces.”

“If y/n even trusts you with that.” Leo added from behind him, causing him to jump.

“Nardo, how long have you been standing there?” He glowered at him. “I’m busy.”

Leo held up his hands in surrender. “A while. Anyway, you’re just pushing y/n away.”

“But y/n isn’t listening to me!” He protested, dropping his tool. “I’m right!”

“Maybe, but you’re also being a jerk.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’ll get her heart broken but you could at least be there for support.”

“Oh no no no I’m not supporting that relationship.” He shook his head vigorously and picked up his screwdriver.

“Not the relationship, egghead.” Leo rolled his eyes. “Our friend?”

“Oh.” Donnie tapped the table in thought. “Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have left y/n on read...”

“...And maybe go apologize?” Leo prompted.

“No she’s at a party.” He glanced around his phone, checking your location again. “Actually...” he leaned closer to stare at his screen, “y/n’s not at the party any more.”

“Perfect!” Leo clasped his hands together. “Go apologize!”

“It can’t wait?”

“Go!”

———-

You sat on the rooftop, clutching your jacket to your body and watching the city.

How could you have been so stupid.

How could have let something like that happen.

It was incredibly cold on the rooftop but you didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to go home. You CERTAINLY didn’t want to go to the lair either.

You just wanted to watch the city and pretend everything was okay again.

Why did you have to get your hopes up.

No one ever took interest in you like that unless they wanted something from you.

“Scoff, there you are!” Said the last person you wanted to talk to. “I thought you were in the building and spent about an hour searching for you.”

“Tracking device?” You asked, not even looking at him.

“Yep.” Donnie confirmed. “Now, might I inquire why you’re out here?” He glanced at his watch. “And not at your party?”

You stayed quiet.

“Something happen with Eric?”

You gave him nothing.

“I knew it!” He jumped up and cheered. “I was right! I was RIGHT! Ha!”

His every word made you feel colder and more embarrassed.

“I knew from the start! I knew he was untrustworthy!” He continued. “Eat that!”

Finally, he calmed down enough to sit next to you.

“Now, tell me, what did he do?” He leaned close expectantly. “Did he cheat? Did he kiss a girl? Did he try to get with one of your friends? Did he-?”

“He tried to rape me.” You spat out, bringing your knees to your chest.

Well I’m out of room XD

Part four up soon!

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dancing on dreams, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, (very) minor jungkook x reader

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Big sigh. He’s drunk out of his mind and blabbering away. Then the right guy who you’re supposed to pick up, Min Yoongi, says Jungkook’s apartment is on the way. Might as well drop off passed-out Jungkook and make sure he’s okay. Or Yoongi could fuck you on Jungkook’s bed. That also works.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; smut (fem reader, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; you two fuck slightly on top of and next to sleeping Jungkook, tsk tsk; technically JK is in his red My Time outfit lol

repost, originally called ‘a–dick–ted’  and then I realized tumblr doesn’t like that lmao

--

now playing – don’t threaten me with a good time by panic! at the disco

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”

That’s what Jeon Jungkook slurred to you as he flopped into your passenger’s seat, the stench of alcohol so strong you recoiled. He was wearing a thin red blazer and his sheer black shirt was missing half the top buttons, revealing his tan, muscular pecs.

Also, he wasn’t supposed to be in your car.

“Get out.”

Jungkook hiccupped and squinted at you. “Noona! What’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued, completely ignoring your annoyed look. “I thought you didn’t party.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s because I don’t. I’m picking someone up. Get out of my car.”

He shot two finger guns at you. “Eyy, that could be me.”

“It most certainly is not you, Jeon Jungkook. Now yeet yourself out of my car, please.”

He spread his legs, red slacks way too tight for him and his thick thighs and calves. He was wearing patent black leather oxfords as well. The only reason Jungkook bothered to look this good was to get attention. You sighed loudly. You shouldn’t have left your doors unlocked. You had been waiting outside the party house for only ten minutes. Lights and laughter boomed from the home, livening the late night. Too many drunk people were making out on the porch. It was a fucking mess. A minute ago, you were alone, playing on your phone, only to hear the door click and to see the wrong person saunter into your car.

Jungkook slapped his thighs and you flinched, looking away.

“Hey, I thought we were cool,” he grinned, tilting his head. His long black hair was half-tied back, curly from sweat. “I only tried to kiss you that one time.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, you tried to put your hands down my pants, you manwhore.”

Jungkook made a disgusted face. “Whoa, hey, no, no. I’m not a manwhore.”

Your eyebrows rose so high you thought they left your face.

“Your harem says otherwise.”

You pointed outside your car. Seven girls were clinging to the railing, staring at Jungkook in your car. Jungkook turned his head and grinned, waving. Then he abruptly shook it, turning back to you.

You gave him a deadpan stare.

He struggled to complete a full sentence. “What I’m saying is…” Five full seconds of Jungkook trying to conjure five brain cells and failing. “Yeah, okay, I kiss people and touch and stuff…” You were ready to punch him out of your car. “But I’m a…” Hiccup. He looked slightly green.

Then he opened your car door and stuck his head out, vomiting.

“Ugh, gross,” you frowned, repulsed. You looked around your car and found a half-full water bottle in your cup holder. Jungkook turned around and you shoved it into his face, shooing him.

“Rinse out your mouth before you speak to me again, animal.”

Jungkook stared at the water bottle and took it, grimacing. Then he unscrewed the cap, placed it to his lips, and took a big gulp, sloshing it in his mouth before gargling and spitting onto the grass. You looked away, shaking your head.

Ew.

Not to mention he just indirectly kissed you.

Double ew.

You heard him do it again and then noisily drink the rest, crushing the plastic with suction. You turned back to see Jungkook shoot the crumpled plastic bottle out your car.

“What the fuck? Why did you litter?” you scowled.

Jungkook looked out the window, surprised. “Oh. You’re right. Sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes. Out of your peripheral vision, you noticed Jungkook’s harem rush to the fallen water bottle, claiming it triumphantly like crows to a shiny bit of aluminum foil. Okay, well… at least it wasn’t litter.

He cleared his throat, pointing at you. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m not a–”

“Dirty little fuckboy?”

His head jerked back, dark brown eyes narrowing at you.

“How do you read my mind?” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, I’m a virgin.”

You blinked at him and his half-open shirt.

“What?”

Jungkook grinned at you and gave you two thumbs up. “Eyyy.”

Your jaw dropped, but before you could say anything else, you heard a sharp tapping at the driver’s seat window. Two pointed, dark brown eyes squinted at you, frowning. Oh. The person you were actually supposed to pick up. His upper lip upturned a bit, giving him a kitten-like pout.

“Why is there vomit on the passenger’s side and why is Jeon Jungkook passed out next to you?”

You started your car and rolled your window down, grimacing at Min Yoongi. He was wearing a black and navy bomber jacket, white shirt, and distressed black jeans. Ah, his hair was black again. You always told him he looked best in black hair. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I left my doors unlocked for you and he just waltzed in.”

Yoongi looked past you. “He looks dead.”

You snapped your head back. “He was awake a sec–”

Jungkook was asleep, mouth open, half-slid down the passenger’s seat. Absolutely gone.

You heard Yoongi open the backseat door and slide in. He smelled like whiskey and his pale face was a bit pink, but he didn’t seem as drunk as Jungkook.

“Well, he lives in my building, so I guess we’ll just take him home,” Yoongi said absentmindedly.

You shot him a pained look. “Yoongi, why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s the moral thing to do?”

You groaned and began to drive.

-

“You have to help me carry him.”

“I most certainly will not. He’s your friend.”

“You will.”

Five minutes later, you and Min Yoongi were dragging Jeon Jungkook’s dead weight up three flights of stairs, absolutely hating life, and wondering why you decided to wear your heeled black ankle boots today. Sure, they weren’t insanely high, but they weren’t the right shoes for the job. Plus, your flared red miniskirt and gray cropped long-sleeve weren’t helping either. Your shirt had a cat graphic on it that said, “go away,” with two middle fingers.

You felt it described you very well, actually.

Finally, after having made it to the metal door of Jungkook’s apartment, Yoongi crammed his hand into Jungkook’s tight pants’ pockets, feeling around.

“Key’s on your side.”

“I’m not touching him any more than necessary.”

Jungkook raised his head for a half-second, eyes barely open.

“Where’d the party go?” he mumbled and then dropped his head into your shoulder. His chiseled jaw cut into your flesh, alcohol-stained breath against your cheek.

“Save me from this hell, Yoongi.”

Yoongi chuckled deeply and reached around Jungkook’s waist. The back of his hand brushed against your hip and you flinched, eyes flickering to him. His pink lips curved into a crafty smirk. You rolled your eyes and waited as Yoongi yanked Jungkook’s keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

“Come on, Jungkook, step please,” Yoongi murmured softly, nudging Jungkook’s legs with his own. Jungkook groaned, head lolling.

“He’s dead,” you muttered as the two of you lugged him into the apartment. “Let’s leave and let the Grim Reaper find him.”

Yoongi ignored your complaining. He lowered himself, throwing Jungkook’s full weight on you. You grunted, extremely disgruntled, as you fell against the wall, using it as support. You had to hold Jungkook’s upper arms to keep him upright, squeezing his hard biceps. His hips hit you in the lower stomach. Ow. Yoongi closed the door and locked it, meandering on where to put the keys, settling on the hook next to the door.

“I’m going to be crushed to death. Is this guy made out of rocks or something?”

Yoongi continued to ignore you, crouching down to remove Jungkook’s shoes. You sighed loudly, staring up at the ceiling. If Jungkook wasn’t Yoongi’s friend, you probably would have pushed him into his own vomit and let the she-wolves have him.

Alright, no, you wouldn’t have, but you weren’t happy about these current events either.

You jumped as you felt Yoongi’s large hand encircle your left calf. You jerked your head down to see him staring up at you, raising an eyebrow. His fingertips kneaded your bare skin slowly. You narrowed your eyes at him and he reached for the zipper of your black boot, sliding it down. One first and then the other, hand holding your calf the entire time. Then Yoongi stood up, dark brown eyes observing you with a spark of amusement. You thinned your mouth into a line and abruptly kicked your shoes off in his direction. Yoongi dodged you easily, smirking.

Jungkook shivered and slumped, his shoulder blades hitting your sternum.

“Motherfuc–”

Yoongi laughed, pink gums flashing, and grabbed Jungkook by the armpit, hauling him up.

“Let’s get him to the bed.”

“I’m ready to chuck him to the floor,” you hissed, rubbing your chest ruefully.

Using the last of your patience, Yoongi and you managed to dump Jungkook onto his bed. Thankfully Jungkook’s apartment was tiny and somewhat clean, so you didn’t have to go very far. You sat on the edge of the bed, panting, as Yoongi calmly removed Jungkook’s blazer and tossed it aside. He gently slapped Jungkook’s face, and Jungkook made a noise like a dying duck.

“Hm, he’s pretty far gone.”

“No shit, you think?” You prodded the soft navy sheets of Jungkook’s bed. They were pretty nice. Maybe you could find the tag and write down the brand later.

Yoongi adjusted the taller man so he was on his side. He looked down at him, pursing his lips.

“We should stay for a bit. Make sure he doesn’t choke.”

You groaned, slapping the bed impatiently. “Who cares, Yoongi? He did this to himself!”

Yoongi smiled, walking around the bed towards you. Jungkook started to snore. Very loudly. His dark hair was curled around his forehead, his long lashes fluttering.

“See? He’s not dead.”

You stiffened as you felt Yoongi stand in front of you, his hand tracing your cheek to turn your head to face him. Your eyes shifted from Jungkook’s sleeping form to Yoongi’s sly smirk. His slightly rounded cheeks were still tinted pink.

“Shh, don’t complain. I’m here with you,” he said softly, caressing your cheek.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You owe me.”

He leaned down, eyes shimmering with amusement. “That I do.”

And then he kissed you, inhaling your scent and tasting like whiskey. You sighed softly into his mouth, licking his soft lips and pressing back against him. You forgot how it started, really. Perhaps a passing touch? An accidental brush of his fingers against yours? His knee leaning against your thigh for a little too long? Your hand holding onto his shoulder to grab something, maybe a little too tightly? Soon it had become a game of cat and mouse, sneaking hints of each other in innocent public gatherings. Your clothed breasts pressing against his back, trying to squeeze past. His hand brushing against your hip, fingertips tracing the waistband of your pants.

It didn’t really have a name. You two just did it, relying on eye contact, seeing the reaction of the other, spurred on by more and more dangerous actions, upping the ante. Shorter and shorter skirts, his fingers touching your bare thigh, making you shiver.

Yoongi placed a hand on your thigh now, sliding it up. You slapped yours over it, drawing back a little from his intense kiss.

“We’re on Jungkook’s bed,” you breathed, cocking your head towards the sleeping male.

Jungkook snorted in his sleep.

Yoongi grinned. “So?” His dark eyes dangerous, so dangerous. “Bet you still want it.”

He pulled his hand out from under you and put them on your knees, eyes locked with yours. You gave him a warning glare but he spread your legs, lifting your knees up and back. You fell onto your elbows, gasping as he tilted his head, licking his lips as he viewed the wet spot of your red silk panties.

“You wore the nice ones today,” he observed. “Excited to see me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Maybe I just like being pretty for myself.”

Yoongi smirked, getting onto the bed, crawling over you. “You’re already pretty. You don’t need clothes for that.”

Your felt your ears burn at the compliment. You reached up to pull his head down so he could kiss you again, hungry, deep kisses as he lifted your hips, pressing the wet spot on his bare thigh where a massive hole had been ripped in his jeans. You moaned softly, feeling him grind into your soaking pussy.

“I love those jeans,” you whispered, grinning.

Yoongi chuckled. “Me too.”

Snoring Jungkook rolled over and his leg smacked against your elbow.

Yoongi reached down and eased your panties to one side, pressing his thigh against your bare slit. You whimpered quietly, rocking your hips into his leg, stimulating your clit. He continued to kiss you, light, feathery kisses, playing with your tongue and lips, gently nipping at your skin.

“Don’t you feel nice?” Yoongi purred. “Doing something wrong?”

You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows. “Isn’t that what we always do?”

Yoongi kissed down your neck, humming. Your elbow rubbed against Jungkook’s leg as Yoongi began to suck on your flesh, making your back arch. His tongue licked at your hot skin and he blew on it, sending shivers down your spine. He slid down, removing his leg, and replaced it with his hand, pressing it into your wet heat. You gasped, sliding down, arm pressed against Jungkook’s muscular thigh and calf.

“I love the sounds you make,” Yoongi whispered, breath tickling your skin. “Music to my ears.”

He slid a finger into you.

“A-ah, Yoongi…” You clutched the sheets, catching a bit of Jungkook’s pants in your grip.

He thrust it in and out of you, slow, pushing your shirt and bra up. Licking your nipples lightly, watching you tilt your head back, eyes closed. He inserted another into your tight, wet hole, feeling you clench around them, sucking him in.

“So sexy,” he mumbled around your nipple, pushing it with his tongue. “So fuckable.”

You gasped as he increased the pace, simultaneously sucking on your nipple. The wrongness of it all made it even better, pleasure mounting fast as you felt your stomach tighten, so close, Yoongi knowing all the best spots to melt you. You breathed his name, pussy tightening as you came, soaking his fingers with your slick juices, humping his hand slightly.

He thrust into you a few more times, slowly, before sliding out and placing them in his mouth, sucking off your taste. He smirked.

“Turn over.”

You exhaled before trying to roll to your right. Yoongi stopped you.

“Other way.”

You frowned. “Jungkook’s there.”

Yoongi grinned mischievously.

“Yoongi…”

He licked his lips, purring your name. So sweet, so enticing.

You let out a puff of air and lifted yourself to your elbows. You turned your head, seeing Jungkook’s head flopped to the side, mouth open. The sharp line of his jaw, his pouty pink lips, his closed eyes. Still very not elegantly snoring away, and yet you noticed the way his dark hair curled around his forehead, his tiny ponytail mussed from being asleep.

“He likes you, you know,” Yoongi said.

You snorted. “He’s upset I’m not trying to make out with him so he’s trying to touch my lady bits.”

“Same thing.”

You turned your head back, seeing Yoongi shrug out of his bomber jacket. “Did you know he’s a virgin?”

Yoongi’s dark eyebrows raised. “Oh? Interesting.”

You shrugged. “Well, that’s what he said in my car anyway. I don’t know if it’s true.”

Yoongi chuckled. “It probably is. Jungkook’s sappy like that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Needs to be the love of his life and stuff.”

You tilted your head at him. “And you?”

Yoongi smiled at you. “I don’t need that. I only need you.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Hah, right.”

Yoongi leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You think I’m lying, but you know it’s true. I always have the most fun with you.”

You scrunched your face and felt Yoongi grab your shirt, yanking it and your bra over your head. You puffed your cheeks at his insistence, but Yoongi grabbed your breasts, rubbing his thumbs onto your hardened nipples. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him back, tongue against tongue, drinking him in. He nudged you to your left.

“Come on…”

You sighed against his lips. “Alright, alright, you bad boy.”

He smirked as you rolled over, careful not to touch Jungkook’s thighs and placing your hands on either side of his hips. Your knees ended up in between his, tightly together. Jungkook’s sheer shirt had eased out of his waist, abs peeking out from the bottom. You swallowed, feeling Yoongi moving behind you, grasping your panties and pulling down.

“You shouldn’t try to fu–”

Your words turned into a gasp as Yoongi’s tongue swiped up your dripping pussy, licking it all up. Your arms trembled, cries dying in your throat as you stared at asleep Jungkook, trying not to make any sound. Yoongi began to noisily eat you out, shoving his tongue inside you and scooping out your juices, his hands spreading your ass. Your shoulders dipped, hands spreading outwards. He slid down a little, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves and licking at it roughly.

“Yoongi, fuck,” you hissed, arching your back. His tongue was too good, so good you almost forgot you were positioned above dozing Jungkook’s dick and abs. Jungkook sighed, turning his head the other way and resuming his snoring. If Yoongi’s tongue wasn’t going to make you pass out, then you were definitely going to get a heart attack if Jungkook woke up in the middle of this.

Yoongi’s mouth latched around your clit and he sucked, hard. Your shaking hips rolled into his face, raspy breaths rattling your chest as you struggled to stay silent, feeling your pussy leaking onto his cheeks, so wet you could hear it behind you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, sliding down, nipples brushing against Jungkook’s clothed thighs. “Fuck, Yoongi, I’m so fucking close…”

If Jungkook woke up now, you wouldn’t have noticed because pleasure raced up your nerves, intoxicating you, Yoongi’s expert tongue licking and sucking on your clit, so wet and wonderful and tight it was taking over you. Your hand lost balance and your righted yourself, planting it onto Jungkook’s abs. The contours of his muscle molded to your palm as your hand slid up, low moan leaving your lips as you came again, Yoongi opening his mouth and sucking it out of you. Your body shuddered, fucking his face as your rode out your orgasm, nails curling onto Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook moaned in his sleep, breathy and deep.

The sound brought you back to reality and you jerked your hand away, startled at you were touching him. Yoongi lapped at your pussy leisurely before straightening. You turned your head to see his very self-satisfied expression.

“Looks like dream Jungkook liked that,” Yoongi smirked.

You shook your fist at him. “I touched him!” you whispered angrily.

Yoongi looked unbothered. “A tragedy.”

You pushed yourself off the bed and stepped towards him, legs tangled in your panties. You irritably kicked them off before poking Yoongi in the chest. Now you were only in your red skirt.

“What was that for, huh?” you whispered heatedly.

Yoongi grinned. “Fun.”

He took you by the waist and pulled you to him, kissing you deeply. Now you could taste yourself and the whiskey, sweet and bitter, mixed with Yoongi’s lust as he led you with him. He pushed you back onto the bed, kissing you eagerly, smiling, making you smile too because Yoongi was so much fun, so naughty, and you would never know it from his usual bored expression when he was out in public.

Yoongi undid his jeans as you reached into his back pocket for his wallet, squeezing his ass as you did so. You took the condom out, still kissing him, still licking his lips, unwrapping it. He pushed his clothes down, freeing his cock and you rolled the condom down, moaning as your felt his hard length in your hands.

“Right here?” you murmured against his lips.

“Fuck yes,” Yoongi drawled. “Right next to your favorite drunkard, Jeon Jungkook.”

You laughed. “Alright, he’s annoying, but he’s not a drunkard.”

Yoongi thrust into you and you whined in pleasure, raising your hips to meet him. A playful smirk danced on his lips as he began to roll his hips into you.

“He’s not, but he is today and so I’m going to take advantage of it,” he panted, fucking you nice and slow and perfect, making sure to stretch you out, filling every part of you with his cock.

“Ah, Yoongi, you’re so good,” you gasped, tightening around him, heightening the pleasure. “Such a nice dick.”

He grinned wickedly. “Excuse me, I think you mean the best dick you’ve ever had.”

You smiled back, meeting his hips, slapping them together and making a deliciously sloppy wet smack. “You’re right, the best dick I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook rolled over a bit, exhaling serenely.

Yoongi dipped his head against your ear, moaning softly as he increased the pace, fucking you hard into Jungkook’s bed. “Think he can hear us?”

You chuckled. “You want him to hear us.”

“No,” Yoongi replied, far too mischievously to mean it. “But maybe he should, because your pussy sounds sexy as fuck.”

You sucked in a breath as Yoongi pounded you, falling back a little so your tits bounced. Yoongi’s dark eyes flickered down to you, sparkling with appreciation as you bit your lip, flicking and pulling on your nipples lightly, heightening the pleasure.

“I’m close,” he groaned. “Squeeze me harder.”

You did, tightening your core and he threw his head back, moaning silently as his hips slammed into yours, once, twice, and he came, loud smack of your hips meeting and his cock throbbing into your walls, spurting his cum into the condom and making it swell inside you. You exhaled hotly upwards, tipping your head back, Yoongi’s name drifting out of your lips in bliss.

He just felt so good.

It might not have a name, but it didn’t need one, because Yoongi’s eyes found yours and there was only ecstasy, perfect, lovely, wicked ecstasy of the mighty who had already fallen.

-

Jungkook woke up immensely groggily, head pounding, his sense of space and time completely and utterly fucked.

But he wasn’t dead, so… yay?

He frowned and rolled over. He was in a soft place. A bed. He breathed in deep. His bed. Nice. But he smelled something else. Jungkook squinted. He could see someone. He touched his chest, finding his shirt still on, barely. He still had his pants on. Oh, good. He didn’t accidentally lose his virginity in a drunken stupor.

He recognized that large pale hand. Jungkook frowned again, squinting harder. Yoongi-hyung? But the hand was over a pair of soft breasts, squeezing them together.

“N-noona?” Jungkook croaked.

You reached over and placed a hand over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Go back to sleep, Jungkook. You need to sleep.”

That’s true. Jungkook did need to sleep. This was probably just a dream anyway. No way Yoongi-hyung and noona were naked in his bed, tangled in his blankets. That would be nuts. Totally crazy. Jungkook drifted back into slumber, softly snoozing away.

-

second act. dreaming in reality a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

extended playlist where did the party go by fall out boy the mighty fall by fall out boy

[angryschnauzer]

Jingle My Bells

Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr​, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.

Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife

Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).

Gif by @littlefreya​ and used with her kind permission.

Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.

Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites​. I don’t run a tag list.

Jingle My Bells

Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.

And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.

"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;

"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"

"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;

"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"

"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa" 

With a groan your husband released you;

"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"

-

Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;

"Hennn…." You purred

"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"

"Are you free this afternoon?"

He sighed over dramatically;

"What do you need?"

"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"

Henry let out a snort of laughter;

"I've met your class… some of them are…"

"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"

"Hmmmmnn"

"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"

Henry sighed;

"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"

“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”

He sighed;

“Okay, make it thirty minutes”

-

If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.

By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.

When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk. 

Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;

“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”

Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You wriggled on your lap;

“Oh I've been Naughty…”

Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;

“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;

“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.

You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;

“Hen! We’re at school!”

“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”

His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;

“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;

“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”

“Tights” you corrected

“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”

Grinning you turned your head;

“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”

Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;

“Really?”

“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”

With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body. 

Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;

“C’mon, lets get home”

Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”

Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;

“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you

“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”

The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;

‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’

Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”

You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Geralt in 21 with partner of your choice for the lingerie prompts!!

I hope we’re feeling Geralt X Eskel tonight bc I wanted to write Eskel v badly.

"Maybe it's a bad idea," Geralt mumbles, twisting to look at his ass in the mirror. Objectively, he looks good, but fear and self-doubt creep into his mind anyway. Outside the bedroom door, Eskel sighs.

"Can I just see it so I can give you an honest opinion? Not one tainted by your horrific self-loathing."

Geralt takes another look at himself, resists the urge to sigh, and steps away from the mirror. If it was anyone else but Eskel, he'd lock the door and undress before going back out, but he trusts Eskel. And tonight, he's hoping Eskel is a better judge than he. He takes a deep breath as he steps out into the living room and as soon as Eskel's eyes are on him, he deflates. He feels stupid.

"I'm just gonna change," he mumbles, but Eskel reaches out to stop him.

"Don't. He'll love it."

"Are you sure?"

Eskel nods slowly, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "You look… incredible. Only an idiot wouldn't love you in this."

Geralt doesn't believe him, but he trusts Eskel's judgement. He slips back into his room, closing the door behind him (although there's not much left that Eskel hasn't seen tonight) and turns to his closet to pick out what to wear.

Lingerie aside, he's looking forward to tonight. Vernon is… something. But it's not like Geralt is going to marry him or anything. He wants to fuck him, though and tonight is the fourth time they've been out, so he's optimistic - hence the wardrobe choice.

He leaves the house just after five with enough time to get to the restaurant before their 5:30 reservation.

By six, he's sat in the underground parking with his head on the steering wheel.

He feels like an idiot to have assumed this was going anywhere. And yeah, maybe he wasn't as into the guy as he should have been, but being turned down outright still fucking sucks. And to make matters worse, all he can feel is the press of the straps digging into his skin. It's irritating, maddeningly so, and only serves to remind him of how fucking stupid he was to think someone might want him. But he can't go upstairs because Eskel will be there and he'll ask why he's home so early and Geralt will have to tell him. And the only thing worse than being stood up and having to come home and take off the lingerie he bought specifically for tonight (an already embarrassing experience) is having to admit to your best friend that it happened.

Geralt groans and squeezes his eyes shut, banging his head against the steering wheel. If he just stays down here long enough, Eskel will never know. He'll think he went out and had a great time and came home. It's what he usually does. But factoring time for dinner, sex, and potential conversation afterwards? He'll be stuck down here for hours. Which is not at all how he intended to spend his night.

He picks his phone up off the passenger seat and makes to get out of the car, but there's one unread message that catches his eye and he opens it quickly, hoping it's Roche. It's Eskel, because of course, it is, hoping that his night goes well. Geralt just groans at the screen before locking it and shoving his phone in his pocket where it can't taunt him.

When he gets up to their shared apartment, he waits again before letting himself in. Only for a few minutes, only to try and hear if Eskel is in the living room. But there's no sound coming from within, so he pushes the door open and sneaks to his bedroom. But as the door is clicking shut, Eskel calls out.

"Geralt?"

Fuck.

"Geralt, is that you? What are you doing home?"

"Uh- change of plans," he mumbles. He wants to make up an excuse, to say he's not feeling well or something came up, but he can't form the words. Instead, he flops onto his bed and stares up at the ceiling, which is where Eskel finds him a moment later.

"What happened?" he asks gently. Geralt shrugs and sighs.

"Don't know." He does know. It's the same thing that happens every time, but he knows Eskel doesn't like when he talks badly about himself, so Geralt keeps quiet. "Just didn't show."

His skin prickles and he shuts his eyes. Just for once, he'd like to be good enough for someone. For someone to want to be with him. He's always the one setting the dates or reaching out to start with and he doesn't know why he bothers because it never goes well for him. The best he gets is Eskel's sympathy and a bottle of gin to come home to.

"Asshole," Eskel mutters, "doesn't deserve you anyway. You can do better." Geralt scoffs, but Eskel persists and eventually, Geralt just tunes it out because one day Eskel will realize that he is inherently unlovable, that he's not worth the time to text and say hey I'm not showing up tonight.

"Thanks," he mumbles, but it's false.

"You wanna watch tv and drink vodka?"

For the first time in hours, Geralt smiles.

"You know I do."

Watching tv and drinking vodka turns into watching Jeopardy and drinking if you get the answer wrong. And the longer it goes on, the fewer answers either of them gets right. It's not until late that Geralt realizes he never got changed when he came home. He peels off his shirt, having spilled his drink on it, and the black straps are there, crisscrossing across his chest and reminding him he's an idiot. Which is a shame really because the piece itself is nice and now he'll never get a chance to enjoy it properly.

"S nice," Eskel mumbles next to him. Geralt looks up to see what he's talking about and finds Eskel looking back at him. "Vernon's a fuckin' idiot turning you down in that." Geralt huffs a humourless laugh.

"You're drunk," he shrugs, "and you're s'posed to say shit like that when I'm having a bad day."

"True though. Wish you didn't think so badly of yourself all the time. You're hot, Geralt, simple as that. You're the only one who doesn't see it." Geralt pauses for a second, decides he's misheard, and shrugs it off. He picks the bottle up off the table, takes a large drink, and passes it to Eskel who sighs, but takes it anyway.

But over the next half hour, he catches Eskel looking at him. And not just glancing over at him, but really looking at him in a way that makes the skin on the back of his neck prickle.

"What?" he asks finally, his anxiety getting the better of him. "What's wrong?"

"Just thought you'd have taken it off by now, thought you'd wanna be comfortable."

"It is?" Geralt says simply and Eskel purses his lips and nods.

"Can I touch it?" Eskel looks up at him earnestly and Geralt would be an idiot to say no to him now. He nods slowly and Eskel reaches out, tracing the lines of the leather. His fingers slip, brushing against his skin, Geralt pretends not to notice.

He shifts to get more comfortable, turning to face Eskel and leaning into the couch cushions. And Eskel grows bolder, slipping his fingers into the rings joining the straps and tugging gently, letting the leather lift from his skin before releasing it. Geralt shudders the first time he does it and that only seems to encourage Eskel.

One warm hand presses against his chest, slipping down to the button on his jeans. Eskel turns it between his fingers for a moment before looking up at him.

"Should take these off," he hums, "let me see the rest."

"You saw the rest earlier."

"Not like this."

To Geralt's drunk mind, it seems like sensible reasoning, so he quickly unbuttons his jeans and pushes them to the floor. He feels suddenly exposed in only leather straps and a lacy thong, but Eskel is transfixed. He runs a hand up Geralt's thigh and Geralt shudders under the warmth of it. The room is cold, his skin breaking out in goosebumps now that he's mostly bare, but Eskel's palm is warm where it slides against his skin and Geralt closes his eyes at the feeling.

He stops where the leather digs into Geralt's thighs, pressing his thumb beneath it and following the line along. Geralt is only partially aware of the way his pulse spikes, the way his skin prickles under Eskel's touch, but he knows that he likes it, so he doesn't tell him to stop.

"Geralt." Geralt opens his eyes and looks up to find Eskel looking back at him, his expression soft. "Can I kiss you?"

Geralt's mind whirls to try and catch up with what it's evidently missed. He doesn't even realize he's nodding, and then Eskel's mouth is on his own, soft and warm, and he can't think about anything else. His fingers slip instinctively into Eskel's hair and Geralt finds himself laid back against the arm of the couch as Eskel fits himself between his thighs.

He's wearing sweatpants and the softness of the fabric feels amazing in contrast to the leather wrapped around his thighs. Geralt nearly groans when Eskel shifts forward, but then his attention is refocused to where Eskel's hand settles on his pec, fingers slipping under the leather straps. Eskel breaks the kiss just long enough to mumble fuck, before pressing into his neck and kissing under his jaw.

"D'you have any fucking idea how you look in this?" he mumbles, "christ Geralt, you're stupid beautiful." Geralt starts at that. No one has ever called him beautiful before. On occasion, he's been called hot, but he knows it's just his body they're interested in. When Eskel calls him beautiful, it feels like something more.

"You're drunk," he accuses and Eskel laughs against his skin.

"But so are you. Drunk and beautiful." Eskel shifts down the couch, pressing soft kisses down Geralt's chest until he reaches his nipples. "Fuck. You just put 'em on display like this?" he groans, "what's a man supposed to do with himself, Geralt?"

Geralt squirms under the praise, but he shuts his eyes, focusing instead of the brush of Eskel's lips, the warm wetness where his tongue peeks out from between his lips. He'd be lying if he said he'd never thought about Eskel this way, but Eskel was always just one more in a long line of people who would rather just be friends. So Geralt doesn't think about it. Much. On occasion, he'll imagine what might have been if they'd met at a different time, or on nights when nothing else is going right, he'll picture him above him as he jerks off, inevitably falling asleep guilty and ashamed.

But he never expected anything like this.

Eskel sucks a nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue at the numb and Geralt lets out a shaky moan, shifting his hips beneath him. The sensation goes straight to his cock and he realizes belatedly that he's half hard. It's not until Eskel readjusts himself that Geralt realizes he's also only wearing a tiny, lacy thong and that it was barely covering him to begin with.

His worries go unnoticed by Eskel who is now sitting sideways, one arm under Geralt's back and the other slipping slowly down his chest, catching on each of the straps as it goes. He stops abruptly and Geralt hears a little hum before Eskel's leaning back up to him, nosing under his jaw.

"You're already so hard," he groans, "can I touch you?"

"Please," Geralt whispers.

There's no hesitation as Eskel's palm cups his cock, first over the lace, then quickly pushing beneath it to wrap a hand around him. He strokes him slowly, working him up to full hardness in no time at all and then he's ducking down and wrapping his lips around the head of his cock. Geralt whispers and bucks and when he looks down, the hand that was on his cock is now shoved down Eskel's sweatpants.

"Let me see," he breathes and Eskel shoves the pants down without so much as wavering in his ministrations.

Once he catches sight of Eskel's cock, he can't look away. He watches the way it slips between his fingers with fascination, imagining his own hand around him, his mouth around him.

"Fuck me," he says and Eskel pulls off his cock to stare at him.

"You want me?"

Geralt nods and leans in to kiss him again, sighing softly against Eskel's lips before pulling away. "Yes. Always, please."

Eskel doesn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around Geralt's waist and kissing him soundly as he pulls him up into his lap. When he shifts his hips, Geralt can feel the thick length of Eskel's erection through the lace and it only makes him want him more. He nips at his lips, kisses him hard and Eskel laughs softly against his mouth.

"Fuck, you're really somethin' aren't you."

"Lube," Geralt grumbles. He shifts to move, but Eskel stops him. When Geralt looks up, he looks embarrassed then he shoves a hand down the side of the couch and Geralt realizes why.

For whatever reason, there's a bottle of lube stashed between the cushions and he offers Eskel a questioning look.

"Full disclosure?" Eskel shrugs, "I couldn't get the thought of you all wrapped up in that out of my head. I was gonna jerk off while you were gone to try and get it out of my system but then you came home."

"Mm," Geralt hums, "good thing I did."

He kisses him again, slow and deep, taking the bottle from Eskel's hands and flicking it open. He pours probably more than he needs to into Eskel's hand then drops the bottle again, uncaring as Eskel's fingers press back between his cheeks. Eskel makes no attempt to remove the thong, just slips his fingers beneath it and presses against him.

Eskel makes quick work of opening him up, fucking into him with thick fingers and kissing the moans from Geralt's lips. When he fucks him, it's quick and hard and neither of them is sober enough to have much finesse, but it's good. It's the first time in maybe years that Geralt remembers genuinely enjoying himself during sex and when they're finished, he collapses against Eskel's chest and just stays there.

Warm arms wrap around him and Eskel kisses his shoulders and slowly, they both drift off to sleep.

In the morning, Geralt wakes up alone with a pounding headache and something digging into his skin. As he looks down at himself, at the straps barely covering his skin, everything rushes back to him and he feels sick. Fuck.

He shouldn't have given in, should have said no to Eskel's advances. But he was in a bad place and he wanted. He still wants him, but evidently, Eskel was just horny and drunk. Mark him down as another who doesn't want to stay. Geralt wants to go back to bed, to call Yen and ask her to drag him out to do anything but stay at home in the apartment, but he supposes this is something that should be dealt with sooner rather than later.

He barely makes it to his feet before Eskel comes downstairs. He's dressed in only his sweatpants, hung low on his hips, and Geralt groans internally.

"I'm sorry," he blurts and at the exact same time, Eskel says "I've got the bath running." To which, Geralt doesn't have a response.

"You first," Eskel says tentatively. Geralt sighs.

"I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have-" he cuts himself off, failing to put his thoughts into words.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. It's just… I've been up for half an hour making breakfast and running a bath and I didn't account for regretting what happened last night." Eskel smiles up at him and Geralt's shoulders slump. Sometimes he hates how well Eskel knows him, but this morning he's glad for it.

Eskel steps up close, reaching around to undo the clasps at the back of Geralt's neck and gently tugging the lingerie down until it falls in a pile on the floor. The thong goes next and Geralt doesn't say a word as Eskel's hands settle on his hips.

"Bath, breakfast, and then we're going to sit down and talk about this," he breathes, "but don't think for a second that I'm gonna let you worry yourself out of this. Last night was good. You were- you are beautiful. Go upstairs and I'll be up in a minute if you want?"

Geralt isn't sure exactly how Eskel thinks he's going to fit the both of them into their bathtub, but he isn't going to let that stop him from trying.

"Okay," he whispers. Eskel smiles and tips forward, stopping at the last moment, but Geralt leans in to close the space, kissing him softly. He loses himself for a moment in the slide of Eskel's lips against his own and he doesn't realize he's being pulled forward until he shifts his hips and presses against Eskel's cock, hard in his sweats.

"Bath, breakfast, talk," Eskel repeats, breathless, "after that I'd like to keep you in my bed for a week."

As far as ideas go, Geralt thinks it's a damn good one.

lingerie prompts~

[bonniebird]

If you asked nicely

Reader x Mikaelsons

Requested by Anon

When you had fallen asleep Elijah had been neatly sat in one of the chairs in the corner of your room. He was softly reading some old book you’d never heard of. He had come in the angry wake of Klaus.

To his credit Klaus had tried for a day to coax you out of bed, soothing and fussing. He wouldn’t listen when you exclaimed you just want to be left alone for a day. To sleep until you roused only from your body being incapable of sleeping any longer. He had relented when he realised nothing he did would get you up. Not daring to move lest you catch the attention of one of your predatory protectors you stayed still. Hoping for more sleep. You just felt more tired now.

Something twitched the edge of your duvet and before you could decide between snapping your eyes shut and feigning sleep or glaring down whoever dared to disturb you and a new face peaked at you. “Hello Darling!” Kol said cheerfully. He smiled, shoving himself partly under the duvet and looked around as if he was appraising your docile cave. “I thought it sounded like you were awake. Elijah said not to disturb you. Apparently you gave Klaus quite the hard time.”

Amusement played with his face as he watched you. He received a frown. Not one of anger but more one you’d get if you suddenly roused someone with something delightful. You sighed, frowned and turned your head so you wouldn't have to look at him but by the time you’d done it, he’d rounded the bed and tucked his head under the duvet on the other side.

“Come on now love, don’t be like this! You’re no fun when you’re sleepy.” Kol teased before raising his eyebrows and adding. “I suppose it’s best you got Elijah helping you sleep last night, when Klaus helps you sleep… it’s a pain.” He smiled and rubbed his chest, wincing. You tried not to laugh knowing he was joking about the daggers. When he got a snicker out of you he beamed with delight.

“Kol! Brother are you pestering (Y/N)?” Elijah called from somewhere. Fake panic took over Kol’s face as he froze and leant up. Tugging the duvet up with him, letting a fresh breeze brush at your skin.

“How could you say such a thing brother! I do not pester… I seduce and intrigue, some think I’m a delight!” As he spoke he playfully wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. His eyes lit up as he heard the bubble of laughter you’d been holding onto escaped, bursting past your lips in peels of laughter that had you tearfully rolling in your bed in a fit of giggles.

“Yes! I did it!” Kol cheered, throwing his hands up victoriously. He cheered to himself, your duvet helplessly flopped across the room, making a last ditch attempt to cling to you as it defeatedly slipped to the floor.

“You didn't do anything!” You said through giggles the laughter ebbing away.

“Hey if you didn’t get out from under that blanket they were going to send in Rebekah.

“She would have just joined me and said it was a girl thing.” You pointed out knowingly. Kol gave you an agreeing nod as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“So what now, you’re free of that.” He said cast a gesture to your piled duvet on the floor. “Elijah is making enough food to kill a man. Honestly there isn’t any space in the kitchen. Klaus has been painting pictures for you since yesterday and Rebekah was gathering supplies so you two could take to the bed in an appropriately aesthetic manner.” He mimicked Rebekah’s voice for the last few words and you giggled again.

“Food sounds nice. I should probably shower though.” You said as you sighed.

He hopped up and your eyes widened when he started to undress. “Right let's get in the shower.” He said until he caught your eyes. He flashed you a smile and paused.

“I need a shower… not you!” You said quickly, finally sitting up and trying to tame your hair a little. “I might need a shower! You don’t know where I’ve been!”

“I suppose that’s true.” You mused. He watched your brow furrow as if you were mulling over where he could have been that day. Your attention was snatched back when you moved in a blur. You were whizzed past Elijah who dropped his plate he’d brought up for you. Though you were sure Kol had knocked it out of his hand on purpose.

“Brother!” He snapped sharply.

“Brother?” Kol answered in a tone that would definitely rile Elijah. Kol focused on fixing the water in the shower which made Elijah rap on the door several times.

He gestured for you to get into the water but you frowned at him. “Aren’t you going to leave?” You asked and he shrugged.

“If you’d like. I thought I’d help you wash your hair.” He paused and rolled his eyes. “It was something that was done as… a show of affection. Elijah’s still right there and I’ll keep my underwear on!” He gestured to his boxers and then to the door. “Elijah?”

“Yes Kol.” Elijah said in an unamused tone. You tried to hold back another laugh at the sound of his voice.

“See, a perfectly friendly shower.” Kol said giving you his best innocent look that gave a more dubious expression.

“What’ll I wear?” you pointed out and he shrugged.

“I won’t look at you if you like. But I’m a thousand or so. I’ve seen a lot.” he said as he stuck his hand under the running water, satisfied it was a good enough temperature he stepped in.

“You’ve seen a lot or you’ve seen a lot of naked people?” You asked curiously as you decided to undress. It would be nice to have someone do your hair for a change.

“Both?” Kol said as he, to his word, closed his eyes until you’d gotten in. “Women did find me rather irresistible back in the day.” He said as he brushed his fingers through your hair until it was damp enough to add the shampoo.

“Back in the day?”

“Well, I got a bit out of swing when I spent a few hundred years in a box, not much room for seduction in a coffin.”

He chuckled when you spluttered out a laugh as if his comment had caught you off guard. Kol’s fingers were soft and gentle. More gentle than you’d thought a vampire capable of. If you weren’t quite so intimidated by his near nudity you would have been lulled into relaxation, so much so that you could have leant against him and closed your eyes.

The shampoo smelled different and glancing at the bottle Kol had set on the shower shelf you realised it was a brand new bottle, an expensive looking brand that you hadn’t heard off before. You assumed it would have either been from Elijah or sent over by Rebekah.

For a while there was silence as Kol massaged the suds into your roots and rinsed it out, continuing to massage your scalp and neck. “You know. Affection really is wasted on modern humans.” Kol said thoughtfully as he reached for a second bottle. “The fun that could be had if you all let go just a little.”

“If every human let go we’d all be like Elena. Vampire lovers on rotation.” You said quietly. His hands stilled for a moment as he raised his eyebrows. When you glanced over your shoulder at him he chuckled.

“Careful darling. Glass houses and all that.” He said playfully as he rinsed the final suds out of your hair. “You could have four Mikaelson if you asked nicely.”

He grinned when you elbowed him gently and spluttered a little. With the gentlest brush of a kiss to your shoulder he got out of the shower, leaving to finish your shower as he deliberately dripped as much water on the floor as he could. He cracked the door open and snatched the towels that Elijah was holding out for him. He could see Klaus lurking behind Elijah and grinned. He didn’t envy Elijah for having to deal with Klaus’ grumpy mood.

“Come on then darling, you must be starved.” Kol hummed out as he unfolded teh warm, fluffy towel. It was definitely one from the Mikaelson's home. It was massive enough for you to step into it and have it wrapped around you at least twice.

When Elijah saw the state of the bathroom he sighed and glared at a gleeful Kol who bowed mockingly. Klaus bickered with Kol as you were escorted to your bedroom which had been tidied and your bed made with fresh sheets. Rebekah was sprawled over them with a pile of new pajamas beside her. “Off you go now!” She insisted once Kol was near the doorway. Both he and Klaus found the door slammed in their faces as she took a turn at fussing you. She fixed your hair and produced so many creams and powders and moisturisers your small desk was almost completely covered in little bottles. Once she was satisfied she’d fussed you enough you were relinquished into Elijah’s care to be escorted to your kitchen. You noticed everywhere was a lot cleaner and suddenly all the odd jobs that needed doing were done.

“You didn’t all have to make a fuss.” You said quietly to Elijah who smiled.

“Nonsense.” He muttered back with an endeared affection.

Kol hadn’t been kidding about the amount of food in your kitchen. Even if you invited the gang round there would be too much for you all to eat. You gave Elijah a grateful smile as he pulled out your chair and helped you sit. He must have been worried to cook so much. You hadn’t meant to worry them. You’d just felt so exhausted by everything going on in Mystic falls.

As you sat you noticed sweet paintings of plants and flowers adorned your kitchen walls. Klaus’ touch there was no doubt and you smiled as you looked at them. “Rebekah said renovating the kitchen was a bit much. So I settled for decorating.” Klaus said as he took a seat beside you. He admired the way you appreciated his work.

“Thank you. All of you. I feel much better.” you said with a smile. The stress of the chaos going on had ebbed enough for you to feel energized again. The Mikaelsons had gathered in the kitchen and all smiled as you beamed for them.

“Well, I have to apologise. If I had known looking at my beautiful face would be the thing to get you out of bed after a few days. I would have arrived earlier.” Kol said. You shared a daring look together as Rebekah groaned and helped herself to some food. Elijah rolled his eyes and tutted while Klaus growled quietly from beside you. Trying to hide a laugh you opted to stuff your mouth full with the food that had been carefully set before you.

[snackhobi]

pairing: namjoon x reader / word count: 9.3k / genre: pwp/smut

summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand.

warnings: sexually explicit content, masturbation, edging (kinda), unintentional voyeurism (briefly), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), bigdick!joon, dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation (reader gets fucked dumb), praise, aftercare (please heed the warnings, and let me know if I need to clarify/add any!)

--

For most people, Sunday is a day of rest. But not for you.

Sunday means chores. Sunday means tidying up, dusting, vacuuming. Sunday means finally doing all the Adult Things you’ve been too busy/lazy to do for the rest of the week (or even longer than that, as evidenced by your overflowing laundry basket). Sunday means work. 

You slap at your vibrating phone, fingers sliding uselessly across the screen as you fumble to cut off the chirping alarm, and then you groan. “Ugh." You bury your head into your crumpled pillow. And then, once more, with feeling: “Uggggggh.”

You roll around in your bed, thrashing a little like a child having a tantrum, before you flop on your back and stare at your ceiling with your limbs akimbo, a starfish.

“Why?” You whine out to no one in particular. “Why me?”

Fortunately you live alone, so there’s no one to witness your sulky behaviour.  You would put off getting all your errands done, but you’ve already been doing this for so long that you’re practically out of clean clothes to wear. That’s one part about living alone that’s a double-edged sword- you have your own space where you can act however you please, which is Great, but also you’re the only one responsible for keeping on top of things, which is Less Great. You can’t rely on other people to get things done for you.

You’ve never been a morning person, and the fact it’s so nice outside already does nothing to brighten your mood; it’s the perfect kind of day, the chilled bite to the air mellowed by the sun in the cloudless, pale sky, and you’re going to have to spend it indoors. Ugh. You eventually grit your teeth and pull yourself out of bed, waking yourself up with a cold shower. Once you force a cup of overly sweet coffee into your system and the caffeine hits you so that you’re fully awake and ready to go, the world suddenly feels a lot more bearable. So you’re unperturbed when your underwear drawer comes up practically empty.

“Oops,” you say. “Oh well.”

It’s practically empty, but not entirely; there, at the back, there’s that pretty lingerie set you’d bought on a whim in a sale and then promptly never worn. Honestly you’d be happy to go without, seeing as no one else is here and you have no one to look pretty for, but you find that you never get anything done if you’re not in a bra. It’s like a Pavlovian response that you've ingrained into yourself: when you get home, your bra comes straight off, no ifs, buts, or maybes. Bra off means it’s Relaxation Time. Bra on? That means it's time to get things done.

But, yeah, if you’re going to wear the bra, you may as well wear the matching thong, right? It came as a set so you’d basically be committing a crime if you didn’t wear them together. You take one moment to admire yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that to appreciate how it makes you look, before promptly ruining the illusion of sexiness by covering it up with a pair of old sweatpants and a too-large tank top. They're the only bits of clothing not in your laundry basket that you don't mind getting dirty while you clean, so, you have to make do.

The worst part about doing chores is getting the whole process started, but you’ve been doing this long enough that you have a routine. Bra on, hair up, mental checklist ready. You toddle through to the kitchen with your laundry basket, picking through for the colours and whites, feeling entirely too accomplished once you get the first load sorted. This kickstarts the whole chore procedure and once you get stuck in, you actually start to have fun; you’ve got your noise cancelling headphones on and your cleaning playlist is full of songs that get you pumped up, and you sing along to the music as you get started on your next job.

You wiggle your butt to the rhythm of the beat while you hoover, pushing your vacuum into the corners of your flat and ruthlessly sucking up the dust bunnies that have gathered there. You're in the middle of belting out one particularly long note when a spider scuttles out from under your sofa and the note rises into a little scream; you act on pure instinct and suck the spider up into the hoover, watching as all the long hairy legs fold together and get schlorped into the vacuum’s nozzle before disappearing forever. You feel immediately relieved but also immensely guilty when this happens- spiders are awful and you hate them but usually you’d try your best to catch them under a cup before flinging it outside, so the fact you’ve maybe just killed it? You really are just awful. (But thank God it’s gone.)

Maybe that's enough hoovering for now.

You empty the dust bag into the bin, mindful of the fact that the spider might still be alive and come crawling out onto your hands. Thankfully it doesn’t, but you’re not going to take any chances; you draw the bin liner shut and tie it tight, before deciding that the best course of action is to put it into your outside bin, in case the spider decides to come back with a vengeance. 

You hoist the bag up and pause for a second to glance down at how the straps of your too-loose top have slipped down your shoulders to reveal the top of bra, the intricate lace trim of the cups and extra straps that criss cross your chest- definitely an, uh, interesting outfit choice for a quick trip out of your flat. You make the executive decision to shrug on a hoodie and zip it all the way to your neck to preserve your modesty and save you from the chill outside. Once that’s done it takes two seconds to slip your feet into your (fake) Converse shoes, another few seconds to fiddle with the lock on your door, struggling with the latch- it’s been a bit janky for a while and you keep forgetting to sort it out- before you hop your way downstairs and  to the outside shed where everyone's bins are stored.

Ewch. It doesn’t smell that great in here. You make quick work of dumping your rubbish and escaping from the hut, shutting the door firmly behind you to try and keep the stench locked inside, before almost falling over when you feel the telltale sensation of a cat curling around your ankles. He’s meowing up at you but your headphones have been drowning him out, so you slide them off your ears and hook them around your neck so you can actually hear him.

"Oh, hi, baby!" The ginger stray likes to hang nearby the building, always friendly and happy to see you, even if he seems to like sneaking up when you least expect it. He meows at you again as you squat down to stroke him, butting his head into your palm as his tail curls in delight. "Aren't you just the most gorgeous boy? Yes, you are, aren't you?"

The cat ends up putting his paws onto your knee to butt his face against yours, and the next thing you know, you have an armful of cat. You laugh and continue to pet him, cooing at how cute he is as he purrs back. "Awh, baby, you're so sweet," you say. "I wish I could take you home, but my meanie landlord says we can't have pets."

“I was thinking of starting a petition, actually, so the landlord gets rid of the No Pets clause in the tenancy agreement. You’re welcome to sign it if you like.”

You glance up from where you’ve been allowing the cat to shove his nose against your chin, standing up straight to address the man who’s talking to you, cat still clutched in your arms. “Oh! Hi, Namjoon-ssi. That’s such a good idea, I love that. Stick it to the man. I’d definitely sign it. How are you today?”

Kim Namjoon, aka your neighbour from across the hall, is smiling at the cat in your arms. Namjoon’s the perfect neighbour and ideal tenant- quiet, tidy, considerate, although he does have a tendency to lose his keys and gets locked out of his flat on a pretty regular basis. 

It’s actually how you’d started to talk in the first place. When you first moved in you’d given him a small box of chocolates to endear yourself to your same-floor-friend, only exchanging small nods and pleasant greetings for a while after that, but after you’d found Namjoon waiting sheepishly on his own doorstep- “My friend has a key but it’s going to take him a little while to get here,” he’d explained- you’d invited him into your own flat to wait, rather than just in the hall. 

Since then you’ve started to have chats whenever you see each other, and occasionally knock on each other’s doors whenever you ask to borrow things like sugar or a screwdriver or whatever, and you always invite Namjoon in for a cup of tea when he’s waiting for one of his friends to rescue him from his own forgetful nature. You’re still toeing the line between Friendly Neighbours and Kind Of Friends, but one thing you already know and admire about Namjoon is his ability to actually be a mature and put together adult. Sure, you drink a decent amount of water, you have a skincare routine with multiple steps, and you usually manage to eat your 5-a-day, but a lot of that feels like you do it because you’re expected to, sort of like a child playing make-believe. 

Namjoon, meanwhile, manages to just ooze the sort of gravitas that comes with being a fully realised human being, someone who actively participates in the world around them because they’re entirely engaged with things and basically just Super Mature Adult (even if he apparently loses/breaks things on a fairly regular basis). Hence why you’re not at all surprised at the petition thing, or when Namjoon proceeds to tell you that he’s going to spend the afternoon at his friend’s uncle’s strawberry farm, picking fruit, because of course Namjoon is the kind of guy who supports local, organic, free range produce. (Wait. Can strawberries be free range? Or is that just eggs?)

“Ahh, I love strawberries! That’s so cool,” you say. “It must be fun.”

“You’re welcome to come, if you like,” Namjoon says. He’s always gracious so you know he’s just saying this to be polite, but you can’t help but think it would probably be really nice to spend time picking fruit and talking with him.

“Ah, I’d love to, but unfortunately I have prior commitments. I’m catching up on chores,” you admit ruefully. You’re still absently scritching the ginger cat’s chin as you speak, the animal purring up a storm in your arms and shedding all over your clothes, although you don’t notice or care. Namjoon is incredibly endeared- not that you notice that, either. “Hence the runway-ready outfit.”

Your hair is so messy it looks like some sort of wild possum has been nesting in it, your hoodie sleeves are so long they threaten to swallow your hands, and you’re not even wearing your cheap knock-off shoes properly- you’re stepping on the back collar of them in your bare feet so they’re basically glorified flip-flops at this point. Total fashionista. (Not.)

Namjoon, however, seems surprised at your dismissive tone. “You look cute and cozy,” he says.

You snort in an unladylike way, lifting the cat in your arms a little- you can’t gesture properly with an armful of fur, especially when the stray takes this as an invitation to crane upwards and shove his little face into the crook of your neck, knocking against your headphones. “Cute baby,” you coo at the cat, before turning your attention back to Namjoon. “You look cute and cozy,” you echo. It’s a little chilly today and Namjoon’s wrapped up, long scarf curled around his neck, beanie on his head, hem of his coat fluttering around his thighs. Super cozy, and again, a well-put-together adult. 

You muffle a sigh. He’s a well-put-together and hot adult, tall and built, so handsome in his casual outfit, effortlessly masculine. You’ve been lowkey crushing on Namjoon for a while now, as futile as that effort is- you haven’t seen any evidence of a special someone in Namjoon’s life, but there’s no way that man is single. Even if he somehow is, he’s like, a bajillion light years out of your league, hyper intelligent and kind and gorgeous, in comparison to your… um… your… well. Yeah. In comparison to that. 

He’s nice to you and he smiles whenever he sees you, though, and your weak little heart can’t help but flip flop in your chest whenever you see that dimpled little smile, even if you know you don’t have a chance in hell that he really thinks that you’re cute. He’s just being polite. 

The cat in your arms gives a little wriggle, apparently sated for the day, and you carefully squat down to deposit him onto the ground. He gives you both one last little mewl before scampering off and you fondly watch him go. “Let me know when you have that petition written up,” you say, brushing the cat hairs off your sleeves. “I better get back to my flat, I need to finish the rest of my laundry so I can continue the facade of being a functional adult. Have a great day, Namjoon-ssi, and I hope you enjoy the strawberries! You’ll have to tell me how they are.”

“I will,” he says, eyes warm as he smiles, those little dimples appearing in his cheeks. Ugh, you want to touch them so much. “Good luck with your laundry.”

Namjoon’s beautiful smile fuels you for the rest of the day, buoying you up as you scrub the walls of your shower and bleach your toilet, bright yellow gloves a size too large for your hands as you spritz your bathroom counter. You might not be a legitimate adult in the same way that your neighbour is but you can give it a damn good go; even if the rest of your life is maybe a bit more chaotic than you’d like, you can at least get your surroundings in order.

And you do. By the time you’re finished with hoovering and mopping your floors and reorganising your clutter, your flat feels brand-spanking new again, fresh and clean and airy. You’d even lit a few scented candles earlier and you give yourself a pat on the back for your forward thinking as you snuff them out, the delicate smell of vanilla lightly filling the apartment. All that’s left is to go to the kitchen and put the final load of laundry in the tumble dryer and once that’s been emptied and sorted, you’re all finished. Mission accomplished. Chores done.

Once the tumble dryer has started its cycle you reward yourself with a cup of tea, a blackcurrant and blueberry fruit infusion that you’d gotten as a Secret Santa gift at work and hadn’t used yet, saving it for a special occasion. You hum to yourself and continue to wiggle your hips to the music trickling out of your headphones as the kettle boils, watching the purple that bleeds from the tea bag once the hot water cascades over it. It looks rich and vibrant and it smells so good- but then you make a little face when you take a sip. Fruit teas never taste as good as they smell. It’s not bad but it’s a little disappointing, really, a subpar reward after a hard day of work. 

You stand in the middle of your kitchen with your mug still in your hand, eyes unfocused as you stare into space, trying to think of things in your flat that you could use to reward yourself. You’ve already used up those fancy gel eye masks that Jimin had given you for your birthday, and you’d let Jungkook have your sheet masks when he’d said his favourite brand was out of stock; Taehyung had pilfered all of your bath bombs as part of an experiment (the experiment being that he wanted to know what colour his bath water would turn if he used all your different bath bombs in it- the answer was ‘an incredibly underwhelming, if glittery, sludge brown’), and he still hasn’t gotten around to replacing them.

Pay day isn’t until next week and you’re tight enough on money at the moment that you don’t want to order out for dinner- living alone means you have to pay more rent so you have to be more careful with money- so you’re out of ideas. 

That is until motion out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. You glance over at it, pulled out of your reverie; the old tumble dryer has been in this flat longer than you and it’s showing signs of wear and tear, base warped a little from age, noisy and wobbly as your clothes are being spun inside. You pause, mug dropping a little in your hand as the thought briefly flickers through your mind, before you bite your lip and throw caution to the wind. Fuck it. You live alone and you’ve had a long day and you deserve some kind of reward. 

You abandon your unfinished mug of tea in the sink before eyeing the shaking tumble dryer. You hoist yourself up, straddling the corner of the machine, a little shiver running through you when you feel the vibrations through your legs and thighs as you settle into place; it takes time to situate yourself, thighs spreading as you tilt your hips forward and press your heat against the rumbling dryer. You shift on your hands, palms braced against the top of the machine as you wriggle into the best position- the second you get just the right angle you let out a little gasp, eyes squeezing shut when you feel how the shaking machine is sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

You keep your eyes shut as you continue to find the right rhythm. You rock your hips forward each time the machine rocks back, rolling the weight of your body down towards your clenching cunt; the vibrations are so strong that you can feel them through your sweatpants, lace of your thong rubbing against your clit in a deliciously rough way, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through you.

As you continue to work yourself up, your skin starts to feel overheated under your clothes, even with the chill spring air seeping into the flat- you fumble with the zip of hoodie, letting the material sag open before you brace yourself with your palms again. You feel how the hoodie slips down your arms, baring your shoulders, and you tilt your head back, revealing the line of your neck as you arch your spine. Each rumble of the machine rolls through you, wetness starting to slicken your folds as you grind down a little harder. It’s a steady, slow climb towards your peak- you shut your eyes to focus fully on the pleasure building between your legs, the way your clit feels swollen and almost over-sensitive from the strong vibrations from the dryer, the way your pussy clenches whenever you get the angle just right.

You start to gasp, biting back moans when you feel how your orgasm is getting closer. You lift one hand from the top of the dryer to run your hands over your skin- your neck, your throat, tracing over the straps of the bra that are digging into the swell of your breasts. It’s good, really good, but it’s not enough; every time you feel like the peak of your orgasm is about to crest, it ebbs away again, and you let out a little whine from the back of your throat. 

With your eyes still shut, you try to conjure up images that’ll arouse you and send you tumbling over the edge. Hands on your body, lips against your skin, your mouth. Normally when you masturbate you try to keep away from thinking about anyone in particular, because you feel like if you see that person in the future they’ll just telepathically know about it and you end up feeling awkward and guilty (even if you know it's illogical)- but today you can’t help it. Your mind slips to the thought of Namjoon this morning and the way he’d smiled at you, and once you start thinking about Namjoon, you can’t stop. 

Namjoon’s smile. His mouth. His tongue. His hands, his fingers. His tall, beautiful body, pressing you down against a mattress, trapping you against him. You take the hand that’s been trailing over your collarbones and lift it to your mouth and press two fingers past your lips, trying to imagine that it’s Namjoon. Imagine that it’s the weight of his cock on your tongue, hard and heavy. You bet it’s as gorgeous as the rest of him. You bet he tastes so good, hot and salt and maybe a little bitter, heady and masculine; you let out a low moan around your lips as you run the pads of your fingertips over your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth.

All the while, your music has been playing on, heavy beat thrumming through you as you forget the outside world and focus on the reality you’re conjuring in your mind. Namjoon’s cock in your mouth. Namjoon’s mouth on your cunt. Namjoon’s skin against yours. Namjoon fucking into you, hard and deep. Your blood rises in your veins, toes curling as you can feel how your orgasm is getting ever closer now that you’re this turned on, your cunt leaking with arousal; the thought of Namjoon wanting you as much as you want him is dizzying, as unlikely as it is. The Namjoon in your mind fucks into you with a particularly rough thrust and in the real world you respond with a moan, garbled around the fingers between your lips. Fuck, you’re so close. 

Just as you're nearly there, your playlist ends and everything lapses into silence, your reverie shattered. The moment is gone. Your orgasm slips away from you again and you whimper, unintentionally edging yourself yet again. 

Your eyes flutter open briefly when your haze is broken, although you squeeze them back shut so that you can get back to picturing Namjoon and finally bring yourself to completion- but then your eyes fly open again, fingers stuttering in your mouth and hips going still as your entire body stiffens, blood turning to ice in your veins.

The very real Kim Namjoon is standing in the doorway of your kitchen. There’s a look of utter shock on his face, his lips parted, eyes so wide it looks like his eyeballs are going to pop out of his skull, frozen in place. You don’t know how long he’s been there. You don’t know if he’s just walked in on you. Really, though, it doesn’t matter if he’s been there for five seconds or five hours- he’s seen everything, the way there’s saliva dripping from your mouth around your fingers, tank top barely hiding your lingerie, the way you’ve been bucking your hips against the dryer. Utterly desperate and debauched and depraved. 

There’s a small, white plastic bag in Namjoon’s hands with a pretty strawberry logo on it, drooping further and further towards the floor as his arms go slack. You don’t notice it until it’s slipping loose from his fingers and landing on the floor. 

Berries go rolling out of the sagged plastic and across the tiles but Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice. That single point of motion in the room seems to kickstart your brain into gear, your flight or fight response screaming flight, and you practically throw yourself off the tumble dryer. Your brain is entirely empty of logical thought right now and the only thing you can think of is that you need to get away and hide forever. 

You rush past a still frozen Namjoon, stumbling down your hallway towards your open front door- you notice that the latch is stuck, not clicking into place when you’d come back inside earlier and leaving the door unlocked, you idiot. Namjoon always knocks and it must have swung open as soon as he rapped his knuckles against it, and you wouldn’t have heard it over your goddamn music. You absolute, utter idiot.

You’re not thinking about how illogical it is to flee from your own home to get away from someone. You’re just thinking about your escape. Taehyung’s flat is the nearest and it won’t take long to run there and you can survive without shoes; you’re still barefoot but you don’t have time to grab anything. You have to run. 

You’re just stretching out for the door when you feel large hands grab you from behind. You flail, door swinging shut as your fingers brush against it before you’re being pulled backwards by the arms that have slid around your waist. You start to struggle, squirming in the hold, pushing at the hands trapping you as you instinctively still try to get away from the shame and embarrassment; Namjoon’s body is warm and solid against your back, his muscles effectively trapping you in place, and you can feel how his voice rumbles through him as he speaks, audible through the silence of your headphones.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You’ve never heard Kim Namjoon sound like this. His voice is authoritative, commanding. The part of your brain that acts on pure instinct- the part that just told you to go hurtling out onto the street without shoes- responds instantly, and you immediately go lax in his hold even though you’re still internally panicking.

“I was planning on going to the moon,” you say, unable to cover up how your voice is shaking, even if you’re trying to hide behind sarcasm. It’s your only defence right now. Your skin prickles with embarrassment. “Where else do you think?”

Namjoon lets out a chuckle, and your toes curl at how deep the sound is. “The mouth on you.” He sounds amused. You can’t look him in the eye. “Were you trying to get away from me?”

“‘Trying’ is the operative word.” You’re still staring resolutely at the door- it’s swung shut and the latch has actually clicked upwards this time. Traitor.  “As you can tell, I’m not doing a very good job. The sooner I go, the sooner I get the paperwork started for my move to Fiji.”

“I thought you were planning on going to the moon.” Namjoon’s hold on you is still firm. You’re utterly helpless. “Changed your mind?”

“Going to open a diner in Fiji to raise funds for my moon mission. It’s a long plan.” The spike of adrenaline that had burst through you is already dissolving in your system, leaving you feeling limp and strung out. You can’t see Namjoon’s face with how your back is crushed against his chest; when you glance down all you can see is how big his hands are against your stomach. Despite yourself, you shiver. As panicked and embarrassed as you are, arousal is still trickling through you, and you hate yourself for the effect that Namjoon is having on you right now. You try to sound calm and unaffected as you continue to speak, but you feel breathless from the lingering pleasure tingling between your legs. “Can you let me go now, please?”

“Is that really what you want?” You’ve had your hands on his wrists from how you’d been trying to push them away, so you feel how one of Namjoon’s hands starts to slide downwards, slow as treacle, and your breath hitches as his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweatpants. They don’t go any further than that, palm splayed over your hipbone, but you feel your pussy clench at the warmth of his hands on your skin and a whimper slips out of you. “Or do you actually want something else?”

Your fingers dig into his wrists. When you open your mouth to reply, your words fail you and instead you just let out a little breath.  You’re in utter disbelief at what’s happening right now, unsure of what’s going on- you’re not an idiot but there is no way that Namjoon is implying what you think he’s implying. Absolutely no way. Not a chance in hell. What?

As you continue to stay silent, brain trying to catch up with the situation, Namjoon doesn’t move.

“Use your words, baby,” he murmurs. “I need to know that you want this.”

Oh, fuck. When Namjoon calls you baby it feels like a switch has been flipped inside you; like he’s slipped a missing fuse into place and your entire body has lit up, full of energy and electricity from his touch. It’s overwhelming. “Of course I want this,” you confirm, trembling, and then: “I want you.”

Namjoon responds by finally moving his hand downwards. You watch as it goes, how he pauses when he makes contact with the fabric of your underwear, the unmistakable texture of embroidered lace under his touch. He drags his fingertips across the straps that cross over themselves, an arrow guiding him to his mark; your entire body goes tense when his fingers glance over your swollen folds, slick through the fabric.

You gasp. You’re still trapped against him by the strong arm curled around you, but your hands are free- you pull your headphones off and let them fall to the floor, twisting your head around so you can finally look at Namjoon’s face. His eyes are hooded and dark. He looks nothing like the cute and clumsy man who waves you good morning every day; he looks like some hungry animal, a predator who’s been waiting for the right time to swallow his prey whole.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. He gives you a small smile that’s more of a smirk, utterly at odds to his usual dimpled beams.

“You don’t have to settle for an old tumble dryer, gorgeous.” He kisses the bare skin of your shoulder, right next to where your bra strap is resting, eyes locked on yours. His lips are so soft and you shiver. “Let me help you.”

“I’ll have you know that tumble dryer was very close to getting me off, actually.” You’re so turned on right now but you can’t help the words slipping out; a lifetime of snark doesn’t leave you the second you start feeling horny. “So it’s less you helping me, and more you giving me something you owe me, seeing as you took it away in the first place.”

Namjoon’s silent for a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far- if you’ve run your mouth too much- when he hums. “Ah,” he says. “That’s true. You’re right.”

“Huh?” You say eloquently, surprised, but then he takes the hand out of your sweatpants and you whine. “Hey, put that back, you’re not done yet.”

Namjoon lets out a little chuckle. “No, I’m not,” he agrees. “But I want to see this pretty lingerie properly. You’re all covered up and that just won’t do.”  

He punctuates this statement by taking both of his hands to your hoodie, where it’s been caught at your elbows, and sliding it off you. He drags his large palms down your arms as he does this, cool against your overheated skin; goosebumps appear in the wake of his touch and you shiver again. You have no idea what's going on right now. Everything feels like some sort of fever dream but you're not about to start complaining.

“If you’re about to see me in my unmentionables I’d least like a kiss first,” you say, pout audible in your voice. The truth is you’ve thought about Namjoon’s plush lips more often than you’d like to admit, how beautiful his mouth is, and it’s got to be illegal for Namjoon to have been touching you for as long as he has without letting you have at least one taste of his kisses. “Please?”

“Turn around, baby.” You instantly comply, all but throwing your arms around his neck as you look at him with an innocent, bambi gaze; he still has that half-lidded set to his eyes but you can see how that ravenous hunger is softened by his smile. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you say. You might sound like the protagonist to some cheesy romance film right now but the truth is that you’re still aware of the heat between your legs, the ebbed arousal that’s still coiling low in your stomach, and as much as you want to kiss Namjoon, you want to cum, too. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss m-”

Namjoon kisses you. He cuts you off mid sentence by slotting his mouth against yours, open around the word he swallows, and he immediately presses his tongue past your lips; you yield to him, letting him press his lips to your cupid’s bow as you lick his lower lip, soft and full. Just as good as you thought. No- better. His hands stay steady around your waist, but yours keep moving as you keep kissing- his shoulders, his nape, his hair, his jaw. Every part of him is so warm and solid against you and you just can’t get enough.

You slant your head to get deeper, tongues slipping into each other’s mouths in a way that borders on lewd, rubbing against each other as you trade saliva, your mouth full of the taste of Namjoon. You swear there’s a lingering taste of strawberries. You feel better, a little more in control now that you know Namjoon will indulge you even if you’re being a brat, and you can finally chase the thing that got this whole sequence of events started.

“I wanna cum, Namjoon,” you murmur against his lips once you finally part, breathless from his kisses. “Will you help me cum? Please? Pretty please?”

Namjoon’s lip curls back from his teeth in a silent growl, and a shudder runs through you at the sight; seeing your usually composed neighbour act like this because of you is a heady sensation. “You won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you,” he says, and your pussy throbs with need at his words.

“Jesus Christ, Namjoon.” Your eyes are wild. “I want you to fucking wreck me.”

You get no warning before Namjoon is literally sweeping you off your feet and you squeal in surprise when you feel them leave the ground, but Namjoon’s grip on you is steady as he lifts you in a bridal hold. You feel breathless at this physical representation of his strength- you’ve only seen his bare arms once (that had been a nice morning) before but you definitely hadn’t forgotten about how thick they are, as evidenced by the way he’s carrying you. 

Normally you’d probably be chewing him out for lifting you without warning, but right now there’s a very base, animalistic part of you that goes belly up at the very obvious reminder of Namjoon’s superior power. The instinctual part of you that had initially told you to run away from him now seems entirely content with the fact you’ve been caught, and so you stay quiet in his arms. You cling tight to him as he walks to your bedroom without the need for directions, your flat the mirrored twin to his; you keep kissing his neck as he nudges the door open with his foot, running a hand down his chest, feeling the flex of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. 

He’s so fucking hot, what the fuck.

He’s hot, and strong, but gentle, too. When Namjoon sets you down he’s so careful even though he could easily manhandle you in any way he wanted, and you give him a kiss as a thank you. It’s a brief moment of quiet, that little kiss, but then Namjoon is pulling you back towards him and his hands are all over as he helps you strip; Namjoon’s eyes are heavy on your body as he drinks you in, finally wearing nothing but the lingerie he’s been so desperate to look at.

He sees the way the interweaving straps rest against your skin with the perfect amount of pressure, little swells letting him know that he’ll be able to trace the touch of lace on your body even after he’s ripped it off you. The lace cups of your bra do nothing to hide how your nipples are standing to attention, begging to be touched. But the most eye-catching thing, the thing that Namjoon can’t stop looking at, is how sodden the lace between your legs is; your inner thighs are slick with your arousal, shining, and you haven’t even cum yet. 

“Look at you. So gorgeous,” Namjoon says. “Gonna make you cum over and over, baby.”

His hands feel so good against your skin as he skims his fingers over your panties, but he doesn’t take them off, and you let out a needy little noise. “Please,” you whine. “I need to cum, Joonie, been waiting so long.”

Namjoon watches as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra and reaches for your hands, stopping your motions. You blink up at him, confused, but then he’s turning you towards the bed and bending you over it, motions firm and undeniable; not that you would try to defy him, anyway. You brace your palms against the mattress and instantly arch your spine so that your ass is pushed out, enticing as possible.

You’re wondering if you’re going to have to beg for Namjoon to touch you but it seems what little patience he had has run out; his warm palms are immediately against your ass, touch reverent as he slides his hands over your skin, and you press back into that touch, wanting more of it. His hands skim up your sides and his fingers dance along the edge of your bra before reaching for the hooks, unfastening it so that it slips down your arms and onto the bed before you shove it aside. 

He bends over you, chest broad and warm against your naked shoulderblades, arms coming around your body so that he can cup your breasts in his large hands; his palms cover so much of your skin, your sensitive nipples, and you gasp at the shock of sensation that shoots through you as he drags his hands over them before using his fingers to pinch the hardened nubs. You twist your head and make a little noise, and Namjoon obliges you with a kiss, grinning against your mouth with each desperate sound he muffles with his plush lips.

Eventually, though, he pulls away from you. You glance over your shoulder to see that he’s gotten to his knees, still staring at your soaking core, before he hooks one of his thumbs into the fabric covering your aching pussy and pulls it aside before pressing his mouth against you.

“Oh, fuck!” Your body goes weak and you slump forwards onto your elbows and shove your face into the bed, and Namjoon follows when this moves you away from him, tongue buried in your cunt as he eats you out with no mercy. He’s utterly shameless, noises slick and lewd as he drags his wet tongue over your entrance and clit, swallowing down all the arousal that’s leaking out of you, ravenous. You reach behind you with one of your hands to grip his hair, and when you grind back against his face he lets out a satisfied hum; you gasp at the vibrations against your lower lips, oversensitive from all your edging.

“Gonna cum,” you say, twisting your head so that your cheek is pressed to your rumpled blanket. “I’m so close, oh, God, Namjoon-”

He’s been rubbing his tongue up and down your clit in a particularly sinful way, and after one more particularly hard stroke, you finally, finally reach that precipice you’ve been reaching for all day. You shove your face back into the blanket as you cum, all your gasps and moans coming together in one long cry as your toes curl and you tighten your fingers so hard into your sheets you almost pull them off the mattress. Your entire body trembles as your cunt pulsates with pleasure, each ripple of your pussy feeling like it’s passing through your whole body, and Namjoon doesn’t let up for a second, lapping down each wave of cum that flushes out of you. You feel utterly weak as you flop forwards against the mattress, boneless and shaky, but Namjoon’s mouth is still on you and you let out a whimper, oversensitive.

“It’s too much,” you gasp. “Namjoon-”

He takes his mouth off you immediately. “Sorry, baby,” he apologises, pressing a kiss against the swell of your ass. You want to sag your lower body against the bed but his hands are keeping you up, fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass and hips. “You just taste so good. Can you lie down for me?”

“Yes,” you say into the blanket, your voice a muffled slur. You’re so eager to please him even though you feel so weak from your post orgasm haze, and your muscles feel like jelly as you try to lift yourself onto the bed. Namjoon obviously notices how fucked out you are because he helps flip you over so that you’re on your back, staring up at him.

You continue to stare at him as he sheds his clothes. You let your gaze shamelessly rove over his body as it’s revealed- the honeyed tone of his skin, the muscles that shift underneath it, his shoulders, his arms, his chest, the long legs, the thick thighs, the trail of hair that dips down to his-

“Holy fuck.” Your voice is reedy with desperation, and Namjoon laughs.

His cock has to be the biggest you’ve seen in real life, long and thick, fully erect even though you haven’t touched it yet- the fact that you’re apparently arousing enough to bring him to full hardness is flattering, honestly. Even as you stare at it, it twitches, a dribble of precum oozing from the flushed head, almost an angry red from neglect. You watch, enraptured, as he circles his fingers around it; it doesn’t look any smaller in his large hands. He pulls on his cock, long and slow, before he spits onto it and fucks into his fist as you watch him, spreading the wetness over himself.

“Gonna fill that hungry little pussy with this cock,” he says. “Gonna give you a reward for being such a good girl. Is that what you want?” Namjoon watches you as he thumbs at his slit, precum weeping from his tip. “Does my good girl want this cock?”

“I want it,” you beg. You do, you want it so bad. His mouth and lips and tongue felt so good but it must be nothing in comparison to how good it’ll feel to be filled up  by Namjoon’s heavy, long cock. “Fuck, Namjoon, please, I want it.”

You lift your hips so that Namjoon can slide your panties off you. He stares at the strings of wetness that cling to them as he peels them away from your core, finally bare to the cool air of the room, and you suck in a breath. He wastes no time, climbing onto the bed and settling above you, cock swaying between his legs before he grasps it and tilts it towards your entrance. 

You lift your hips again, tilting them towards him for an easier angle- and immediately cry out when he broaches you, head pressing past your entrance. You’re so turned on and flushed wet that the initial slide in is easy, but as he gets deeper and deeper you can feel the stretch, your pussy forced open for him, feeling like you’re being split open with how big he is- you’ll feel the burn tomorrow, but right now your body is ripe and ready for him to take you, cunt clenching as he bottoms out in you. You experimentally tense your muscles and the two of you gasp in a breath, shocked pleasure at the sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans. “You feel so good.”

He holds still for a moment to let you adjust, leaning down to kiss you. It’s deep and slow, tongue swiping into your mouth as you part your lips for him and let him take what he wants. When he leans back, all that softness is gone- your legs fall apart as he starts to fuck you, hips snapping forward as he ruthlessly presses his cock into you. He’s so big and he’s striking so deep it feels like you can feel him in your stomach, and you arch your back into him and cry out each time he strikes home.

The pace he sets is rough and aggressive, the slap of skin against skin and wet noises from his cock driving into your pussy filling the silence of the room, every part of you hypersensitive to every sensation- Namjoon’s weight pressing you into the mattress, the shaking bed, the rising smell of sweat and sex, the firmness of his hands on you. He leans back and you catch a glimpse of his hungry eyes before he puts his hands under your knees and hitches your legs up so that you’re practically bent in half when he fucks into you again- you cry out at the change of angle, how this lets him splay his large hand over the line of your hipbone as he starts to rub his thumb across your clit, continuing to fuck into the whole time.

“Gonna c-cum again,” you hiccup between thrusts, the air punched out of you each time that hot cock spears into you. “Joonie, gonna- gonna cum aga- oh!”

Your spine arches as your orgasm rips through you, coil of pleasure exploding like a firework as you cum for the second time that day, walls tensing around Namjoon’s cock; he continues to thrust into you, even when your cunt clenches so tight it feels like there’s no space inside you for his length. He keeps forcing your body open for him even as you keep falling apart around him, and you keep taking it, loving it. The only thing you can register is the delirious, mind-numbing satisfaction, sobbing out as Namjoon’s cock continues to fill you- you feel like he’s fucked you dumb, like your body was only made to be fucked by him, sloppy and open and wet. Each time he fills you up again it forces a noise from your throat, sounds of almost animalistic pleasure spilling from your lips, all semblance of coherent words gone.

When Namjoon pulls out of you, even though your body feels weak and limp and entirely fucked out, you whine at the loss. The next second, though, he flips you over, nudging your ankles apart before sliding back into you. The change of angle has him dragging against your sweet spot, balls slapping against your clit, overwhelming off the heels of just cumming, but you just take it, drooling into the pillow as your brain gives over to the all-consuming pleasure.

“So pretty when you cum around my cock.” Namjoon’s bent over you, murmuring praises that you barely register as he litters kisses over your shoulders and the side of your throat. “Greedy little pussy takes my cock so well. Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Wanna be a good girl for you.” Your words are a slur, your brain foggy but eager to please, answering the question. “Joonie.”

“Gonna fill you up so good,” he says, lips pressed against your ear as he whispers filth to you, still mercilessly fucking into you. “Gonna fill this pretty little pussy with my cum. Do you want my cum, baby?”

“Wan’ it,” you moan. There’s heat curling in your abdomen again, pussy tightening as another orgasm creeps up on you, the promise of Namjoon’s hot cum filling you pulling you closer to the edge. “Want your cum, Joonie.”

His fingers tighten around your waist as he starts to jackhammer into you. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open even as his rhythm starts to falter, and after one particularly hard thrust your eyes roll back in your head as you tumble over the edge again, cumming so hard it’s a wonder you don’t pass out. You let out a strangled moan and Namjoon curses as you tighten around him, your entire body trembling under his hands as you give yourself over to the waves of pleasure crashing through you. 

His rhythm falters before he lets out a shout and his cock jerks inside you as your tightening cunt pulls him into climax. Hot cum fills your pussy as he empties himself inside you, aftershocks of your orgasm drawing his seed deeper, painting your insides. You lie there and take it, face turned into the pillow as you focus on the sensation of his twitching cock, the way your body is milking him even in your exhaustion, like it’s desperate to satisfy him even when you can barely speak.

You shiver when you feel him slowly pull out. He’s stroking his hands over your skin, kissing your shoulder blades and nape as he turns you over, gentle as he touches you. “You did so well,” Namjoon praises, smiling at you. “So good for me.”

You still feel fuzzy but you latch onto Namjoon’s words as he kisses you on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose. Words seem so hard to string together right now but you try your best, voice small and weak. “Did good?”

“Absolutely perfect, baby,” Namjoon says, and you let out a happy sigh. You stay quiet while Namjoon slips out of your bed before returning with a damp cloth. You let your muscles go entirely lax as Namjoon rolls you onto your back and gently spreads your legs; he watches as his own cum drips out of you before he gently swipes the mix of cum that’s smeared across your pussy, mindful of your sensitive clit. You bask in his touch, feeling like a cat bathing in sunlight as he cleans you up, stroking his hands across your skin.

He gathers you in his arms and continues to murmur praises between kisses and touches. You slowly come back to yourself as he keeps lavishing attention on you, skin warm against his, turning into his touch as your brain starts to flicker back on. 

Namjoon brushes his lips against your forehead as your higher thought processes continue to fall back into place, although you’re still a little hazy. “You okay, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah.” You feel thoroughly fucked out after three back-to-back orgasms and your pussy feels raw and you’re not sure when you’ll next be able to walk in a straight line, but none of those things detract from how fabulous you feel right now. “More than okay. Wow. When I said I wanted you to wreck me, I didn’t realise you’d do such a good job.”

Namjoon smiles at you, and you finally get to indulge yourself, lifting a hand to stroke a finger across his dimples that deepen as you touch them. “I’m always happy to oblige,” he says, and you grin as you brush your nose across his neck, nuzzling into him.

“You really are the best neighbour,” you say. “Did you seriously come over to give me a bunch of hand picked strawberries? That’s what that bag was, right?”

“Of course.” Namjoon’s fingers continue to rub circles into your shoulder. “I thought you deserved a nice treat after a day of chores.”

“Oh, I feel very thoroughly rewarded,” you giggle, before pulling your head back to look Namjoon in the eye. “God. I was so mortified at the beginning, though. I seriously thought I was going to have to pack my bags and move away.”

“The strawberries wouldn’t be enough to persuade you to stay?” Namjoon strokes his knuckles down your cheek before resting his thumb under the swell of your bottom lip, pushing up a little so it looks like you’re pouting at him. “After I spent all afternoon picking them and thinking about you, and how lovely you’d look while you ate them with this pretty little mouth of yours?”

You relax into his touch, letting him rub the pad of his thumb over your lip, all but kissing his finger each time your mouth shapes itself around another word. “You think about me?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Namjoon says, stroking over your lip one last time before cupping your chin in his palm.  “I don’t genuinely lose my keys as often as you think I do. Though I do still lose them a lot,” he adds, a little sheepish, and you laugh.

“So you’re saying that if I give you a spare key to my flat, I should have back-ups on hand just in case?” You tease, leaning into the hand that’s cradling your chin. “Good to know.”

“A spare key?” Namjoon looks a little taken aback, and you blink at him.

“Yeah,” you say, like it’s obvious. “Y’know, unless you want me to go back to using the tumble dryer.”

The hand that’s been on your shoulder tightens a little as Namjoon digs his fingers into your skin, possessive. That part of you that’s gone belly up for him preens at the attention, still eager to please him and make him happy, loving the sensation of being so desired by someone who you thought was out of your reach. “No.” Namjoon’s voice is a rumble in his chest. “I’ll make you cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”

“Mm.” You hum quietly before kissing his cheek, and then Namjoon uses the hand under your chin to turn you towards him and presses his mouth softly to yours. “You might regret saying that. I’m very demanding. Starting with this- do you want to go get those strawberries so I can have a taste?” You flutter your lashes at him, and Namjoon chuckles as he indulges you. 

You watch the flex of muscles in his thighs and ass as he walks from the room, still in a bit of disbelief that you’ve touched him and kissed him and been so thoroughly fucked by him. Kim Namjoon is a ten course meal (not including drinks or dessert) but here he is, naked on your bed as he feeds you the sweet, ripe strawberries that he picked with his own hands, kissing the taste off your lips between each bite.

You feel utterly pampered and taken care of, reclining against the pillows as Namjoon feeds you another strawberry. You reach out for the largest you can see and return the favour, letting him lick the sweetness off your stained fingers and giggling at the sensation. 

“The dryer’s finished its cycle, by the way,” Namjoon says after he’s finished kissing your fingertips.

“That’s nice,” you say as you carefully pick out another strawberry and rest it against the dark red flush of Namjoon’s lips. “But I’m busy feeding the world’s most beautiful man right now, so it can wait.”

Namjoon smiles at you, eyes lovely and warm as he parts his lips to accept the fruit, before leaning down to press his berry stained mouth against your own.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Bath Bomb

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Bakugou

⋘ ──────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──────── ⋙

"Come on, girls! Let's go here next!"

You giggled with your friends as you hurried to keep close with one another in the crowded street. Today was one of your bi-annual girls' day out with all your gal pals from the former class A.

It so happened that this outing was planned and organized by Yaomomo, and she had decided to take you all on a shopping trip to Harajuku. Everyone was already laden with bags, some even assisted by Ochaco in lightening the heavier ones.

The store Momo had pointed to was a quaint LUSH store, where pink neon lights glowed in the windows.

All seven of you eagerly crowded into the store, breaking off into smaller groups to wander around. You ended up with Toru and Mina, wandering over to one of the walls packed nearly floor to ceiling with colorful bath bombs.

"Look at them all," Toru breathed, carefully bringing one up to her invisible nose for a sniff.

You walked around with them, occasionally pointing out a particularly cutely shaped or colorful one.

Suddenly, you felt a hand alight on your arm. "(Y/N)!" Mina said, barely stifling a giggle. "Look at that one!"

Your eyes followed the direction her finger pointed, finally landing on an egg-shaped turquoise bath bomb. Except, it wasn't meant to be an egg. This was unmistakably a grenade.

"Oh, I get it," you said. "Bath bomb, and it's a grenade. That is pretty funny."

"Well, yeah, but what I meant was—" Mina paused to grin and wiggle her eyebrows at you. "I think you might be able to enjoy that with a certain explosive someone, perhaps?"

Heat flooded into your cheeks as you realized she was talking about your fiancé, Bakugou Katsuki. Now that she mentioned it, it did remind you of him. The mold it had come from was similar to the very real explosives he kept on his hero belt.

"You should totally get it!" she went on, practically bouncing on her toes.

You picked one up, feeling its shape and weight. It was easily the size of your palm, and you finally let your hand take it up to your nose for a quick sniff. Lavender and rosemary greeted your senses. It was a very pleasant mix and you held it up so Mina could get a whiff of her own.

"Mmm," she said, briefly fluttering her eyelids closed. "Yep. You're getting that."

She pulled you with her so you could grab a tray together, gently placing it in the little holder. Everyone browsed for another twenty minutes or so before finally checking out. You had decided on an additional bath bomb for yourself along with something called a bubble bar, but you were truly the most excited about the distinct blue-green grenade that innocently rested at the bottom of your bag. As your group left the store, you couldn't wait for a chance to try out what you'd bought. It would be a nice way to surprise Katsuki when he got home. Additionally, it provided an excuse to relax together and spend time in each other's presence.

You had to snap yourself out of a quick daydream you'd begun to sink into in order to answer Jirou, silently grinning to yourself in anticipation for what was to come.

. . . . . . . .

Not three days later, you finally found your chance.

You got home earlier than he did, which was normal. As you began your routine of amusing yourself while you waited for Katsuki to come home, you felt a buzz emanating from your pocket. It turned out to be a call from none other than your fiancé himself, Bakugou.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" you said into the phone, uncertain as to why he was calling.

"Just wanted to let you know I'm coming home early," his gruff voice came through. "Do you want anything for dinner? I know it's been awhile since we've had that takeout you like."

Your eyes lit up. "You'd do that?"

Katsuki grumbled on his end of the phone, however you could hear that there was no malice behind it. "Yes. I don't understand why you like it so much, especially because of how bad for you it is and when my cooking is so much better, but I'll get it. For you."

"Thank you so much!"

"Whatever."

Thus went most of your conversations with the blond. You were used to it by now, so you merely smiled. "I love you."

Katsuki's voice abruptly changed to tender. "I love you too."

Your smile only brightened as the end-call tone sounded in your ear. You loved everything about Katsuki, even his overly boorish nature. It only made the moments he let it slip all the sweeter. You knew you were the only one who got to witness that softer side to him, and it made your heart swell every time.

You flopped back into position on your couch, mind beginning to wander through possibilities of what you could do during your evening with Bakugou. You quickly remembered the little bath bomb you had shoved into the back of the bathroom cabinet. That would be perfect! You decided to wait until after dinner and then surprise him with the little plan that was already beginning to take form within your mind.

The lock on your door clicked a few minutes later, alerting you that Bakugou had come home. You rose to greet him, strolling into the kitchen to see him setting a bag down on the counter.

You walked up to his side and pecked him on the cheek. "Welcome home, babe."

Katsuki's vermilion eyes met yours as you leaned into him, draping an arm around his waist. "Hey."

"How was work?"

"Not bad," he answered, reaching up into a cabinet and pulling out two glasses, handing one to you.

You grabbed the bag and went to your little table, going back into the kitchen to fill your cup with ice and water once Katsuki was done. The two of you settled at the table, taking out the boxes of food he'd bought for you.

"So why did they let you off early?" you inquired, plunging your chopsticks into a personal container of noodles.

"Dumbass advisor told me to go home," he answered. "Villain hit me with their quirk or something and I got a little dinged up."

"Are you alright?" you asked, suddenly concerned.

"Of course. They just told me to stay in and rest. Pathetic, thinking I'm weak or some shit."

"'Tsuki, you know he just cares about you."

Bakugou made his classic tch noise, scowling back down into his mixed vegetables. "The only reason I agreed to leave was so that I could spend more time with you."

You looked back to him, hoping to catch those ruby eyes of his. He refused to offer them, however, and you eventually gave up, going back to your food.

"I know you don't see me as often as you'd like to," he continued, his voice little more than a mutter. "It's been a while since we've been able to spend a day together, let alone plan our—our wedding."

It was true. Even today, for Katsuki, he'd gotten home early, but you weren't blind to the fact that it was already half past seven. Some nights you'd be up until nearly two AM, waiting for his footsteps to come in through your door. You never ceased to stay awake for him, however, filling some of your free time with planning for your wedding ceremony. Bakugou was letting you handle most of it, although it wasn't as though he had much choice. That didn't stop you from trying to include him any way you could; occasionally talking over what you'd thought of and decided on that day while the two of you lay in bed together. Sometimes lying alone with one another in cool darkness were the only moments you could share, quietly conversing until one of you fell victim to the sleep that had been pressing at the backs of both of your eyes for the last few hours.

You had to hope that one day it would get better. Someday, he may be able to catch more breaks. Maybe someday, society would be fixed so that crime would dwindle to nearly nothing. But that someday was far, far away, if it even would ever come at all. All you could do was be thankful that Katsuki loved his job and rarely got injured. It brought in good money too, with his position so high at the top. The only thing that mattered was that he somehow walked in through that door at the end of each day, no matter what time it was or how long the two of you had gone without sleep. No matter what, you'd always be there, waiting for him.

Your hand snaked its way across the table to settle on top of Katsuki's, finally getting him to look up at you. "It's okay," you assured him. "You're here now. I couldn't be happier."

You both sat, looking at each other in a silent moment, his palm having turned to take yours, thumb gently stroking the outside of your hand.

Flicking your eyes down, you let a small smile creep onto your lips. "I actually have a little surprise for you," you said. "It's for after dinner."

Bakugou breathed out a little laugh in a singular huff, going back to consuming your "shitty takeout" food. "Do you, now?"

"Uh huh."

You could tell he was curious. Bakugou wasn't really one who was much for surprises, but he trusted you.

It wasn't too much longer before you finished your meal, taking the cardboard containers and stuffing them back into the bag they had come from. Bakugou put the glasses on the counter next to the sink while you tied up the trash bag and tossed it out, double checking that the table was clear and clean.

"Ready?" you asked, running your hand down his forearm until it met his own, intertwining your fingers.

"Sure."

"Let's get started, then."

You led him to the bathroom, letting go of his hand so you could turn on the tap for your bathtub. It was just the right size for the two of you to comfortably sit together in, and this was hardly your first time doing so.

"You wanted me to take a bath?" Katsuki asked, watching you adjust the temperature.

"Well, yes, but—" you turned and strode over to the cabinet, rummaging around for the object of interest. You pulled out the bag, reaching in to show off the little grenade. "Ta-da!"

Bakugou looked at it, slightly unimpressed. "What is it?"

"It's a bath bomb," you explained. "I saw it the other day when I was out shopping with the girls and it reminded me of you." You watched his expression, but it hadn't really changed. "So are you interested?"

Katsuki finally let the smallest of smiles grace his lips. "Sure. I was planning on showering here anyway. A bath will do."

"Am I invited?" you asked, just to make sure.

"Of course you are, dumbass," he said, looking nearly offended that you might have thought otherwise.

"Well, then. Let's get to it."

The two of you started stripping off your clothes, discarding them on the floor. When you glanced up at Bakugou, you noticed a little red mark on his shoulder, disappearing over the peak and presumably continuing on his back. You stepped closer, walking around behind him, ignoring a half-hearted protest from the man who was sporting it. A large, red blotchy welt bloomed on the skin of his back, and when you touched it as gently as possible with your fingertips, you found that it was nearly burning.

"Katsuki, baby," you crooned concernedly, unable to take your eyes off it.

"That was the best the healing guy could do," he explained, his voice quieter than usual. "It was worse before, but that's why I got sent home."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

You clicked your tongue, still figuring it probably did hurt more than he would ever let on. You gently kissed a patch of unmarked skin next to it, just to be safe.

Knowing how much Bakugou hated it when you fussed over any injuries he got, you finally left to grab the bath bomb. You traded it for your engagement ring, sliding off the gold band and picking up the green grenade from where you had set it on the counter. The faucet handle of the tub was cool in your hand as you turned the water off, having moved back over to its edge. You shifted your appendage to flick your fingers in the water to check the temperature. It was just right; not too hot, not too cold.

"Come here," you beckoned Katsuki to your side. "Watch this."

You dropped the bath grenade into the water, both of you watching as it began to fizz at the bottom. The water began to take on a cartoonish lagoon-blue tint, and the smell of rosemary and lavender began to sweetly float into the air.

"Now come on," you said, stepping into the tub. Katsuki followed in after you, and you let him sit down and adjust before sliding into his lap. You leaned against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you. You scanned his face, searching for any signs of discomfort. You found that sometimes it was the best way to tell what he was feeling, rather than asking.

Nevertheless, his eyes were gently shut, jaw relaxed. An eyelid slid open to peer at you, a tiny sliver of red just scarcely able to be seen.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asked, tone conversational.

"You."

"Feh."

"'Feh'," you mocked. "The great Bakugou Katsuki, 20—"

"Stop," he interrupted, sending a splash of scented unnaturally blue water over your shoulder. You giggled, nuzzling closer into his chest in your giddiness. A deep inhale and exhale went through your man's lungs, and you followed the idea soon after. The lavender really did do something to your brain, almost magically quieting your thoughts as you felt calm steal over your body.

You'd missed this, just being able to spend time with the love of your life, relaxing together. The water you both were encased in was so soothingly warm, reaching you where Katsuki's hold could not.

"So how did your day go?" you asked, keeping your eyes shut as you snuggled into him. "Tell me all about the villains you vanquished."

You could practically hear Katsuki grin above you, and without hesitation he launched into an anecdote about a man he'd apprehended early that morning. You knew how much he loved talking about his great feats of heroism. It seemed to be a bit of an ego booster for him, watching your face as you reacted to his account of his day.

You felt him shift slightly, not ceasing in his talk. The sound of a shampoo bottle popping open met your ears, and soon after, Bakugou's fingers were lacing through your damp hair, spreading the cleansing scent throughout your scalp.

You hummed and leaned into his touch, enjoying the added sensation while he finished up his speech.

"—shoulda seen the look on the little shit's face when he realized there was nothing he could do. I had him, just like that. Damn extra, didn't even have that much paperwork to file on him."

"Mmm," you hummed in acknowledgement. "Oh, baby, that feels so good."

Bakugou continued rubbing circles into your scalp, lather and foam coating his hands. You loved his hands. They were so large and strong; the source of his power, the source of his pride.

Finally he swirled your hair up and out of the way into a makeshift twist-bun, held together sheerly by the sticky shampoo lather. He took a bar of your favorite soap and began to run it over the skin of your back and shoulders, applying a delicious amount of pressure to muscles you hadn't even known were tensed. Satisfied with the slippery coating, Katsuki went back to using those hands of his, rolling the heels perfectly into you, alternating between palms and knuckles.

"'Tsuki," you said, voice hazy from how good it felt, "this was supposed to be for you."

"Yes, and?"

You pouted, eyes still lidded. "You're supposed to be relaxing."

"This is how I relax."

"Yeah, but—"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

You snorted, letting him continue his business in massaging your back. "Okay, but you're next."

"You wish."

"Did I fucking stutter?" you countered, using his own words against him. "You can't escape me. You're going to feel good by the time we get out of here, and that's a rock fact."

Even Katsuki had to have known his grumbles sounded fake. It was rare for him to show it, but you knew that every now and then he reveled in having you take care of him. Whether it be working out knots in his muscles or rubbing cream into his burns, there was a secret side to him that would allow you to tend to him. His brash persona had to be let down sometime, and every day you felt honored that you were among the few people who he trusted enough to see him without it.

Katsuki finally began to pour water over your back, the warmth trickling down and bringing the soap right with it. He leaned you back so your hair was submerged and your head was in his lap. His fingers began to wind through your tresses again, shaking the shampoo bubbles into the water around you. Without fail, Bakugou always insisted that you were completely taken care of before he ever allowed anything to be done to himself. There was nothing you could do to protest, that's just the way it was. Firm but gentle fingertip pads were pressed into your shoulders, signaling for you to sit up.

He began the process over again with your conditioner, squirting some on his hand before running it through the strands of hair that fell from your head.

"Have the energy to talk about our wedding?" you asked, eyes flicking up to the counter where your sparkling ring sat waiting.

"Sure."

You ran over a few thoughts you'd gotten to recently. You already had a pretty solid guest list, a venue in mind, arrangements for flowers, the cake, dresses, and even the suit Bakugou had picked out. Now was the more practical stuff; scheduling and seating, sketching out designs for the invitations.

You relayed over the conversation you'd had with Momo earlier yesterday. You were so thankful to have her as a friend, helping you plan. It was almost as if she knew what she was doing, at least, more than you did. She was good with decision making and had your best interests at heart.

Bakugou listened while he continued to thread his fingers through your hair, occasionally commenting or making little noises of acknowledgment while you spoke. It wasn't long before he tapped your shoulder, ready to dip you again.

The water that flooded your ears distorted your voice as you continued talking. You wished you had your laptop in front of you so you could show him your detailed spreadsheet.

You finally sat up, him having finished rinsing once again. You paused in your conversation to say, "Now it's your turn."

He turned, trying to find a moderately comfortable means to lean back so you could reach the top of his head. You cupped water in your hands and used it to wet his ash blond hair. Satisfied at its newly damp state, you pulled down his shampoo. Which also happened to be his conditioner.

You'd always grumbled at him for being tacky and using it, but his argument was that he didn't need anything more. It was cheap and quick and he refused to budge from his stance on it. At least you'd gotten him to start picking up scents you liked. This one was coconut. You glanced at the upside down bottle in your hand as you squeezed some out, silently cringing at the 3-in-1 proudly printed on the sticker. What bothered you was probably the sheer difference in male vs female advertised products. You wouldn't be surprised if they came out with something that he could brush his teeth with too.

You spread it over his spikes, each point becoming droopy under the weight of the water that had soaked into them. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou leaned into your touch. Your voice began to trail off as you focused on his hair. It didn't take long to spread the shampoo through his short blond hair, working it into his roots. Next you moved down to his neck, trying to keep your fingers away from any reddened areas. Your hands skillfully moved over his back, much like his had done to yours a few moments prior. His skin was soon covered in a fine layer of suds, deliciously scented as you finally began to rinse both it and his hair with the now scarcely lukewarm water.

"You feel any better, Katsuki?" you asked, leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder.

"From what?" he shot back, annoyed that you'd suggest he was ever anything less than 'fine'.

"I don't know," you said, keeping your tone soft. "You still haven't told me how you got this today." You gingerly tapped a patch of skin on his back, still flushed but now glistening with moisture.

He abruptly stood, water running in rivulets down his legs as he stepped out of your bath. Bakugou wordlessly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, exiting the bathroom with nothing more than it and heavy footsteps.

You sighed and chewed on your lip, collecting yourself before pulling the plug from the drain. Your fingers slid through the receding water, eventually locating the fizzing remains of your grenade and setting it on the ledge. You lifted yourself out and grabbed a towel, sliding your ring back onto your finger before finally leaving the warm, steamy bathroom to find Katsuki.

It wasn't difficult to locate the blond, finding him in the first place you checked; your bedroom. He laid on his back, palms supporting his head while his elbows stretched out on either side. He wore only a pair of loose-fitting orange and black gym shorts, slung low on his hips as he gazed up at the ceiling.

You decided it would be best to not force him to talk, opting to begin work on patting your hair dry with your towel before slipping on one of Katsuki's large, old t-shirts and some cotton panties. The bed dipped under your weight as you sat at the edge, silently beginning to finger comb your damp hair. You listened to nothing but your own heartbeat steadily thumping in your chest, concern for your fiancé clouding your thoughts.

Before you could turn around to ask him what was wrong, Bakugou finally spoke. "Why did you agree to marry me?"

The question caught you so completely off guard, a scoff escaped your throat. "Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why are you asking me that?"

Katsuki's frown deepened. "It's just that . . . sometimes I wonder if you don't deserve this. I never see you. When I do, I'm not the . . . nicest person. You could—you would probably be better off with someone different."

You rubbed your hand soothingly over his toned belly. "Was today not a good day?"

Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek. You recognized the blank look in his eyes, signaling that he was trying to distance himself from his emotions. "He got away."

"Who?" you asked quietly, shifting so you could comfortably run your hands over him. The action was meant to try to calm him and ease him from behind his figurative walls.

"The villain who—who hurt me. I didn't catch him and it's all my fault. I lost. I'm a failure."

You frowned at his words. This must have really affected him if he was willing to break down so much in front of you. Bakugou had always had the mindset that he always had to win. That was how he decided he would be the greatest hero. A blow like this had to hurt.

You laid down and pulled yourself against his side, ducking under his arm so he had no choice but to hold you to his warm chest. You placed a kiss over one of his pecs, your gentle fingers never ceasing in their soothing up and down motions over his abs.

"You're far from a failure, Katsuki," you said softly in his ear. "Things like this happen."

"Not to me," he grumbled, turning his head away from you.

"You'll catch him next time, I'm sure of it."

Bakugou huffed beside you. "I should be out there, hunting him down," he finally said.

"Not in this condition," you stated firmly, tapping a finger against his skin.

You could see Bakugou's lip curl over his teeth. "It's not like I can't fight. I barely even hurt anymore. I can—"

"I wasn't talking about your wound."

He turned his head, finally looking at you. Confusion and suspicion swam in his vermilion eyes, but you used the opportunity to place your hand on his cheek.

"You're down on yourself," you said. "You need some time off. You're working so much and so hard, which is a good thing, but I think you need some time away."

Bakugou rested his hand over yours, gazing into your eyes. "I can't just let him go," he stated simply. "I can't afford to take time off."

"I know," you sighed. "But just for tonight? For me? You deserve it."

Your fiancé sighed. There wasn't anything he wanted more then than to hold you in his arms and forget for a few moments. Forget about his demanding job and getting a whole new hero agency kicked off the ground. Forget about his sworn responsibilities to the world. Forget about that damned bastard who got away.

A grumble sounded deep within Bakugou's chest, signaling to you that he had caved. You let him tug you forward and pull you into a kiss, attacking your lips in that perfectly rough but sweet way that you craved and loved.

Once he was temporarily satisfied, he cradled you against his bare chest for several minutes, refusing to move until all the stress had slowly trickled out of his muscles. You nuzzled into his bare skin, which still smelled so deliciously fresh after having gotten out of your bath.

"I love you," Bakugou finally said. "You know that, right?"

"Of course." Your voice came out a bit muffled, but you had little interest in adjusting from your position.

"I do want to get married," he went on. "To you. Maybe start a family . . . . It wouldn't be so bad, having a little fuckin' monster running around."

Your heart leapt at the idea of having a baby with the pro hero. It was something you'd thought about quite a bit, actually. "And is this child's 'fuckin' monster' qualities from you or from me?"

"You, obviously."

You laughed at Katsuki's joke, glad that he was beginning to feel better. When you looked back into his face, you were pleased to find that even he was smiling just a little bit.

You kissed his skin again as a way to segway to another topic. "So what do you want to do for the rest of your evening off?"

"Maybe we could watch something." He shrugged. "I don't care as long as I'm holding you."

His wish was an easy one to have come true. Within minutes you were relocated to the couch, snuggled up under a blanket together with a bowl of popcorn, watching something you both had been able to agree upon.

Your relationship with Katsuki wasn't an easy one, but there was no one else in the whole world you'd rather spend a lifetime with.

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